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#expect the buddie one later today
eddieisinlove · 2 months
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✨🍓The Strawberry BBQ🍓✨
It's May's idea to throw a strawberry themed party and she's enabled by Buck who's even more excited than her.
Bobby agrees to host it at their house (to Athena's dismay but she just shakes her head and accepts her fate).
Hen and Karen show up matching top to bottom.
Everyone discovers that Ravi is very fashionable (he has the cuntiest outfit of them all).
Of course Buck and Eddie go matching as well and get caught making out in the kitchen.
Christopher and Denny refuse to take part in the toomfoolery.
Maddie and Chim do hand crafted outfits (because they didn't want to buy extra clothes just for this) but they dress up Jee like a little strawberry.
Bobby makes strawberry cake for desert and Athena procures strawberry wine.
btw this is just an excuse for me to draw everyone in strawberry themed outfits.
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katsu28 · 9 days
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rain, rain, (don't) go away
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: you put your trust in a handsome stranger in the midst of a bit of bizarre wet weather. what could go wrong? (4.6k)
warnings: minimal swearing
a/n: not quite the summer lando series i've been working on but the idea for this came to me in a dream a while ago lmao
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It doesn’t often rain in Monaco. Especially not during the summer. 
So when you feel a drop splash against your forehead, then another, you’re wildly unprepared. You squint up at the rapidly darkening sky like it's personally wronged you, and you’re met with another raindrop, this time in your eye. 
Part of you wonders if you could try and make it home before it starts to pour. The other part knows it would be an impossible feat given your lack of a car and how far you’d have to run in such a short amount of time. Even as you ponder the thought, the occasional drops turn into a heavy drizzle. 
You barely make it under the nearest awning before it really starts to come down. All around you are people scrambling to get out of the rain and somewhere dry, caught off guard by the unexpected downpour like you are. 
“Crazy rain, huh?” You startle at the sound of a voice from next to you, gaze snapping to your left to see a man huddled under the same awning, most likely having come up with the same idea you did. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, holding his hands up in surrender. “I take it you weren’t expecting rain when you left the house today either?” 
You scoff, chuckling. “Was anybody?” 
You tear your eyes away from the sky to look at him once more, and to say you’re pleasantly surprised is an understatement. 
Your awning buddy is awfully attractive, and looks to be around your age too. A form-fitting black sweater stretches across broad shoulders, paired with baggy blue jeans that might not have worked for everyone, but definitely suits him well. He’s smiling at you too, a lopsided grin that has you intrigued by him. “The one time I didn't check my weather app before I headed out.” 
“You actually check the weather app?” He chuckles, tilting his head. 
“You don’t?” 
“Can’t say that I do. Usually I just trust the vibes when I look out the window. Didn’t really work out today, though.” He holds his palm out from under the makeshift shelter, letting the rain pool in his hand before dumping it on the ground, flicking his fingers to rid them of the excess drops with a scrunched nose. “Is this your first time in Monaco?” 
You shook your head, smiling softly. “I live here. You?” He bobs his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s never rained like this though, especially this time of year.” 
“If it’s any consolation, I reckon it’ll stop soon. It’s usually pretty quick—” 
A bolt of lightning flashes through the sky right at that moment, followed by a clap of thunder not five seconds later. If it continues on like this, you might be stuck here forever. 
“Huh! Maybe not.” The man sounds amused, aiming a sympathetic smile at you. You can’t help but chuckle, and you notice it makes him perk up a bit, looking pleased with himself. “Hope you don’t have anywhere to be.” 
“Honestly? I don’t. But I’d rather not be standing under this awning til the storm lets up. Could be ages, by the looks of it.” 
A stream rushes its way down the street, carrying a sad swirl of leaves down the storm drain at the corner along with it. It seems everyone else has come to their senses and found somewhere warm and dry to wait out the sudden storm because when you look around, the two of you are the only ones still outside. 
As if the man can sense what you’re thinking, he speaks. He’s smiling hopefully at you, head tilted invitingly. “There’s a cafe down the block that was open before it started to rain. Care to join me?” 
Normally, you’d be wary about a handsome stranger inviting you to an unknown location. This seems like one of those situations you’ve been warned about, but right now you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s about time you put yourself out there, take a chance for once. You’re pretty sure he won’t try to kidnap you. 
“I’d love to.” You reply. You peer out at the dreary grey sky again, lips twisting into a grimace. “Is it just me or does it seem to be raining harder?” 
“I say we make a break for it. Run like hell on three.” He says firmly. You nod and he does the same, holding out his hand. You slip your fingers through his without a second thought. “One, two, three—go, go, go!” 
You both take off in a wild sprint down the sidewalk, splashing through puddles on your way. He giggles the whole time, peals of laughter bouncing off the cobbled street that sound gleeful. You’re laughing too, because who would’ve ever thought you’d be running through the rain hand in hand with a guy you’ve only just met?
He tugs you along, leading the way to your destination confidently. Well, as confident as one can while being half-blinded by a torrential downpour. 
You nearly slip as you make a poor attempt at a sudden stop when he finally slows, and you probably would’ve ended up flat on your ass if he hadn’t grabbed you by your forearms, steadying you with an infectious grin that you can’t help but return. 
The bell above the door rings when the two of you stumble inside, soaked to the bone even in the very short time it took to get down the road. But you know what they say, when it rains, it pours. 
He shakes the rainwater from his hair not unlike a dog would shake out its fur, and in the process splatters you with the droplets. Normally you wouldn’t be too happy about it, but you’re already drenched and he’s very cute, so you don’t mind. 
The place is pretty much empty when you look around, save for a handful of other patrons doing their own things. It’s cute though—cozy and warm, the smell of coffee beans and something sweet floating through the air. You never noticed it before, but it’s exactly the kind of cafe that you love. 
The man seems to notice that you’re still holding hands, because his cheeks turn pink and he drops it, smiling rather bashfully. 
“Sorry. I’m Lando, by the way.” He introduces himself softly, rubbing the back of his neck. You tell him your name and he repeats it, testing it out on his tongue. You’re not ashamed to admit you like the way it sounds when he’s the one saying it. “Nice to meet you.” 
“Nice to meet you too.” 
“I’m gonna go order something so they don’t think we’re loitering. Preferably something hot, because I’ve got water in places water definitely shouldn’t be.” He shudders, pulling his soggy sweater away from his torso as proof. “Do you want anything?” 
You ponder for a moment before responding. “A latte sounds amazing right now. I’ll pay you back, of course.” 
Lando shakes his head, backpedaling towards the counter. “My treat. You just sit there and look pretty.” You roll your eyes playfully at him, but smile nonetheless. “Oh look, you’re doing great already!” 
That makes your cheeks grow hot. You’ve just met Lando and he’s flirting with you, and you don't mind at all. In fact, you have half a mind to flirt back. 
He finds you at a table soon after, balancing two cups and a concerningly large paper bag. You pop to your feet, carefully grabbing the bag to ease the load, and peer into it. There’s at least five different pastries inside, all of them looking absolutely mouthwatering. 
“I hope you’re hungry. Got convinced to buy a few things by the lovely old lady at the counter.” Lando says sheepishly, sliding into the seat opposite you. “Very persuasive, she is.” 
You shrug. “I could eat.” 
You’re not sure how long you sit there, chatting with each other like you're the only two in the world. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to him too. He’s funny and quick-witted and he talks very animatedly with his hands, you notice. You find it cute. 
Lando tells you about himself, asks about you and your life story, and you find yourself settling in nicely with his friendly nature. This isn’t a date by any means, but he makes it feel like one by the way he truly pays attention to you and what you're saying, nodding along closely with rapt attention. As far as listeners go, he's a fantastic one. 
You’ve also learned a lot about him. He was born and raised in the UK, but moved here a few years ago for work. What exactly did for work, he wasn’t too forthcoming with, but you don’t pay it any mind. You’ve just met, after all. You’re not expecting him to tell you his whole life story. 
But it also doesn’t feel like you’ve just met. You aren’t sure why, but Lando has this way of making you feel like you’ve known each other for ages, of making you feel comfortable and at ease with every word out of his mouth. 
Your clothes and hair have just started to dry out a bit, and you’re having a great time. Such a nice time, you don’t even notice the girl approaching your table. Lando sees her before you do, and he smiles politely. 
“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but are you Lando Norris?” She asks hopefully. She looks young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Her eyes flick to you, and you can tell she’s nervous, so you smile back. You’re confused to say the least, but you remember what you were like at her age. She reminds you a bit of yourself. 
Lando nods. “I am, yeah. What’s your name?” 
“Valeria. But everyone here just calls me Val. I’m the owner’s granddaughter, so I work here all the time.” 
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Val.” 
She looks positively starstruck now, hands trembling as she holds up her phone. “Would you mind if I got a photo with you? You can totally say no if I’m interrupting something, I—” 
“You’re alright, love, don’t worry.” Lando stands, moving into selfie position next to her. The poor girl’s arm shakes so much you’re positive the photo won’t turn out clear at all, so you slide out of your seat too. 
“Here, let me.” You take the phone gently, motioning the two of them to scoot closer to get them in frame with each other. 
Val looks a combination of relieved and grateful, while Lando gives off nothing but a cool, albeit reserved, confidence. The same kind of confidence a celebrity might have when approached by a fan of theirs. But certainly Lando couldn’t be famous…right? 
You shake away the idea, snapping a handful of photos before passing it back to her, figuring there can never be too many to choose from. She beams bright, hugging him quickly, then to your surprise, gives you a hug as well. 
“Thank you so much! I’ll get out of your hair now. Enjoy your food!” With that, she hurries away with a bounce in her step, disappearing into the kitchen. 
You turn to Lando with arched brows. “That was interesting.” 
“So interesting.” He echoes, but his tone makes it sound like he doesn’t quite agree. 
“What are you, famous or something?” You mean it as a light jest, but Lando looks guilty for some reason. He beckons for you to take your seat again, sliding back into his own before offering you a sheepish smile. 
“Um, there might be something I haven’t told you yet.” 
“Shit, are you actually famous?” 
“...Yeah, kinda.” You arch a curious brow, and he sighs, but not in exasperation. “I’m a Formula One racing driver. For McLaren.”
Formula One…racing…it all sounds slightly familiar, but you can’t quite place it. Then it dawns on you. 
Lando isn’t just a local celebrity—he’s literally world famous. 
You’ve heard your friends talk about the races before, a few of your relatives who keep up with the sport, but you’d never paid it any mind. It just wasn’t something you could see yourself being interested in. That really famous race that takes place here in the streets every year that makes traffic an absolute fucking nightmare the whole week, Lando drives in that race, and countless others around the world, if you recall your limited knowledge correctly. 
He’s…cool. And he’s sitting right here with you in a tiny cafe, and you had no idea who he was. 
“Oh my god, you must think I live under a rock or something! This is so embarrassing, I—” 
“No, no! I’m not—I don’t go around expecting everyone to know who I am, I swear. It’s just that most people usually do recognize me, and it saves me the whole ‘having to tell them I’m famous’ thing, which always just makes things really awkward, and…yeah.” 
“Things don’t have to be awkward.” 
“No?” 
“No. We don’t even have to talk about it.” 
“We don’t?” He sounds a tad wary, but when you nod, the tension in his posture melts away. Relief floods his features at once. “Thank you. It’s actually quite nice to meet someone who has no idea what I do. Makes me feel normal for once.” 
“Glad my lack of sports knowledge makes you feel like a regular guy,” You joke, nudging his foot with yours under the table. He gives you a light kick in return, infectious smile back in full bloom once again. You quite like it when he smiles. 
You’ve just moved on to a new topic that has nothing to do with Lando’s job when his phone buzzes, making him jolt in surprise. He digs it out of his pocket, and when he sees the name flash across the screen, his eyes go wide. 
“Sorry, hang on. I’ve gotta get this.” He says, hitting the answer button. It’s a quick phone call, and you try your best not to eavesdrop, but whoever is on the other line has Lando worked up when he hangs up. 
“Everything okay?” You ask lightly. Lando bobs his head quickly. 
“Yeah, it’s—I, uh, I’ve gotta go. I forgot about a work event, apparently. That was my press officer, wondering where the hell I am and how fast I can get there.” He sounds disappointed, smiling almost sadly. “So much for feeling normal.” 
You try your best not to let your face fall when you nod. “I should get going too. Get home before the next freak summer rainstorm.” 
It’s nice when you step outside. You tilt your face up towards the sky, feeling the sun warm your face. This is the Monaco you know and love. Though if it hadn’t rained, you would’ve never met Lando. 
He turns to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for the nice afternoon. I had a good time.” 
“Me too.” 
“Maybe I’ll see you around?” 
“Maybe you will.” 
“I certainly hope so.” He says softly. You shift slightly on the balls of your feet, suddenly feeling awkward. You’re not sure how to leave things with him, and it looks like he feels the same by the way he mirrors your actions. “Um, I really should leave, so…goodbye, I guess?” The look on his face tells you that leaving is the last thing he wants to do, but he has to. 
“Bye, Lando.” 
“Bye.” He echoes, one more time before turning away from you to head down the street. 
You can only bring yourself to wait a few seconds before you call his name again. He turns around instantly despite his hurry, meeting your gaze. You want to say something to him that’ll make him remember you, because chances are you’ll never cross paths again. If you were brave enough, maybe you'd even ask him for his number. But you’re not, so you don’t. Instead, you just smile at him. 
“Thanks for the latte.” 
If he’s disappointed, he hides it well. He smiles back at you, warm and bright like the sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. “Of course.” 
You watch him walk away, fighting that pesky little feeling in your gut telling you that you’re making a mistake by letting him go. It’ll go away soon, and you’ll go on with your life like you’re meant to. 
-------
You find yourself going back to the same cafe often, whenever you're out and want a little treat before you go home. The pastries are always still as delicious as the first time you had them, and you’ve become well acquainted with the staff as the time goes on. 
Oh, and that feeling you had when you let Lando leave without a word? 
It never went away. It’s still here, worming its way into your thoughts every chance it can get. 
You’re a little embarrassed to admit that every time you walk into the cafe, you hope you’ll see Lando. It’s wishful thinking more than anything, hoping he’ll be there when you go. He’s probably busy doing his thing anywhere but here, busy racing around in the world to the tune of thousands of screaming fans. You’re not sure if he even remembers you, or the afternoon you’d spent together. 
Why would he? In the world of Lando Norris, world famous Formula One driver, you’re probably just a speck of dirt in his rearview mirror. 
The thought gets pushed to the back of your mind as you step up to the counter to order. Val beams at you from behind the register. 
“Hey, Val,” You greet the young girl warmly, returning her smile. You’ve become quite fond of her and her youthful energy, and she always brightens your day. “How’s business going?” 
“Oh you know, same old.” Val waves an absentminded hand in the air as she keys in your usual order with the other. Her smile turns mischievous at the same time, like she knows something you don’t, and you narrow your eyes at her, already knowing what she's going to ask. “Have you heard from Lando?” 
“No, I haven’t. How’s summer school going?” 
She makes a funky face at you, rolling her eyes. “Boring. Way to change the subject though.” Before she can press any more about Lando, someone calls her name from the kitchen. “Ugh, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfy, wait for your order, you know the drill!” 
You chuckle to yourself, heading straight for your usual table by the window to wait for your name to be called. 
You like to sit while you enjoy your food and drink, watching the people and cars go by outside. The streets of Monaco are always busy and bustling, but being in here feels like a pocket of peace. 
“Is this seat taken?” 
Your brow crinkles at the sudden voice, because you know for a fact there are at least four or five other empty tables available other than the one you’re currently sitting at, but this person chose to to ask you. 
Pocket of peace…disrupted. 
You let out a short sigh through your nose, turning your head from the window to politely tell them to find another seat, preferably at a table that isn’t yours, and that’s when you see him. 
Lando is grinning at you when you look over, lopsided and endearing just like the first time you met him. 
“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the expletive that falls from your mouth at the sight of him, even though there’s a thousand other things you’d told yourself you’d say to Lando if you ever saw him again. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and he’s rocking on the balls of his feet slightly like he’s nervous as he waits for you to do something other than curse at him. “Lando! I—you—hi.” 
“Hi,” He echoes, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. All you can do is stare at him, wide eyed in disbelief. “Mind if I sit?” 
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes, you can sit.” You fumble over your words like you’re not used to speaking, feeling your cheeks flame embarrassingly hot. Lando just chuckles, sliding into the chair across from you. “Um, so how’ve you been?” 
He rubs at the back of his neck, bobbing his head. “Good! Bit busy. We had a triple header the last three weeks, so it’s just nice to be home again.” 
“Oh, I bet. I don’t think I’d be very good company if I couldn’t sleep in my own bed for three straight weeks.” 
“That’s fair. Though to be honest, I’ve gotten scarily good at falling asleep anywhere. If it’s a flat surface, I can nap.” 
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.” 
“Impressed would be mint. Otherwise I just sound like a dumbass.” 
You laugh at that, and in this moment, you realize just how much you’ve missed Lando. No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself to forget about him, to convince yourself that there was no point in pining after someone you’d only spent a few hours with, it all came back to this. You missed him because you like him. 
“I need to tell you something.” He blurts suddenly, bracing his elbows on the table. 
You nod, expression turning thoughtful. Whatever thoughts you’re having about liking Lando can wait. “Sure, go ahead.” 
“This is gonna sound unbelievably weird and maybe even a little bit creepy, but I need to get it off my chest or else I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Lando looked nervous. The bouncing of his leg you can feel under the table and the way he plays with his fingers supports your theory. 
You cock your head at him, reaching across the surface to steady his fidgeting with a hand over both of his. His gaze snaps down to your touching hands, and you can see him visibly gulp. 
“What’s going on? Are you okay, is something wrong?” 
He shakes his head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. Everything is…the opposite, really. Everything is right. Meeting you, finding my way back to you—here of all places. I don’t believe in fate or anything like that, but this sure feels like something along those lines.” 
“Lando, I—”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that afternoon. I tried everything. Nothing worked. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He confesses. His fingers curl around yours gently, thumb stroking over the ridges of your knuckles. “If I’m being completely with myself, I think it’s because I didn’t want to get you out of my head. And I just got off the plane an hour ago, but instead of going home and passing out like I usually do, I came here, hoping that somehow, you’d be here too.” 
“Can I say something now?” You ask lightly, stifling a giggle. 
His cheeks flush an embarrassed pink, and he motions for you to go ahead. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I talk too much when I get nervous. I’m working on it, I—fuck, sorry again. You go. I’ll shut up.” 
“I still think it’s cute.”
“Is that the only thing about me you still think is cute, or…?” 
That gets another laugh out of you. You chuckle, giving his hand a squeeze. “Not at all. I still think all of you is cute, and…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either. We haven’t known each other long, but I really like you, Lando.”  
“I could kiss you right now.” 
“What’s stopping you?”
You don’t have time to second guess your newfound confidence before he’s leaning across the table, sliding a large hand over your jaw and pressing his lips against yours. Lando kisses you softly—gentle, like he’s worried you’ll pull away if he’s too forward with it. 
You’re fully aware that you’re smiling like a madman against his lips, but in your defense, he is too. His eyes open slowly when you pull away, almost tentatively as if he’s not quite sure what just happened actually happened. 
He leans back just enough to study you, letting his gaze flit around your face, taking in every detail he possibly can. All while he grins larger than Cheshire cat, like he’s a kid whose parents just told them they could get whatever they wanted at the candy shop, instead of kissing you for the first time. 
“I was gonna be nice and bring you your order, but it looks like you’ve already got something sweet.” Val’s voice cuts through the moment, and when you look over at her, she looks over the moon. 
“Lando, you remember Val, right?” 
“Uh huh,” Lando hums, holding out his hand for a fist bump that she happily gives him. “Thanks again for the heads up.” 
“Hold on, what? What heads up?” 
The two of them share a look, like they’re debating whether or not to tell you their secret. Then Lando sighs, giving her a go ahead nod, and she squeals, setting your food down. 
“Okay, so you know how you come in here all the time after work? Well me, being the keenly observant, brilliant young mind I am, noticed a pattern. You come on the same days, at the same time, and you never stray.” She explains excitedly, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. You aim a questioning glance over at Lando, who just gives another amused nod.
Val continues excitedly, “So I’m expecting you today, right? But then the door opens and guess who walks in? Lando! He asks me if you’ve ever come back here after that one day and I’m like oh my god, you have no idea! So I tell him to wait a half hour for you, and now you’re both here and my matchmaking skills can be put to rest.”
“Are you being serious right now? Really, I can’t tell.” 
She tilts her head, popping a hand on her hip. For the same girl who’d been so nervous to meet Lando just weeks ago, she’s got a surprising amount of sass in his presence today. “Why would I not be serious? I’m basically a genius, and I expect to be invited to the wedding. You’re welcome, by the way.” 
“Alright, that’s enough, cheers, Val!” Lando blurts, shooting her a pointed look. 
“Can I get paddock passes for making this whole thing happen? Preferably Monaco but I could probably make it to Monza too. Imola is a little far.” 
Lando blinks at her for a few moments, probably seeing if she actually means it. When all she does is raise her eyebrows, he concedes. “Maybe. I’ll make some calls, see what I can do.” 
“Fantastic. Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone!” 
You both watch as she all but skips happily off, then turn back to each other. 
“She’s…definitely something,” You sigh, shaking your head. Secretly, you owe her everything. 
“Eh, I dunno. Kid’s growing on me.” He reaches across the table, lacing his fingers through yours with a fond twinkle in those pretty eyes of his. 
“How serious are you about those paddock passes?” 
“I mean…she did help me out massively. I’d have missed you if it weren’t for her.” Lando shrugs, rubbing an absentminded thumb over yours. “I hope you know I would’ve come back until I found you again. Everyday, if I had to.” 
“Me too.” 
If you’d told your past self that a bizarre summer rainstorm in sunny Monaco would’ve led you to where you are right now, you wouldn’t have believed it. But now, as you sit here with Lando, smiling at each other like complete and total idiots, you’ve never been more grateful for a bit of unexpected rain.
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simonbrain · 7 days
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ghoap being selfish bastards and stringing you along with their affection. it's hard letting someone into their lives; so many risks come with the job, and to add a civvie to that mess? it's not fair to you.
but they also can't seem to leave you alone. even when they push you away after you show the slightest sign of wanting to take things further than being fuck-buddies, they still keep an eye on you. even when you tell them you don't want anything to do with them anymore, they still show up at your front door. even with teary eyes while you're spitting venom at them, rightfully hurt by their confusing actions, they still think you're beautiful.
you just want to know why they rub it in your face. why they flaunt their unbreakable bond, knowing that there's no space for you except for when they want to sink deep into your holes, leaving their marks. why they can't just decide if they want you or not. it's a risk being with them, you know this, but you just want something for yourself for once in your life. it seems like they're not even giving you a damn chance to prove yourself worthy of their love.
(it hurts so badly to push you away, but they must.)
they're causing you so much distress, not to mention the stress from your job piled on top of that. who wouldn't become resentful towards them? you open your home to them, your legs, your heart—god. what fucking assholes. what did you expect from two military men? they really are just heartless machines.
(no one else has made you feel so whole in years, for the best and for the worst.)
you stop responding to their messages and calls; you curse them both out when they show up at your door separately and again when they show up together, and now you just want to heal from something that didn't even fucking happen. it's pathetic, but you really did love like them. it's hard falling asleep without johnny's obnoxious snoring in your ear or simon's big arms wrapped securely around you, but you'll manage. it's quiet on the drive to work without johnny cranking up some random scottish rapper before simon scolds him and hands the aux to you, giving you the best start to your day, but you'll be fine. it's disheartening when you return home to nothing but a dim lamp in the corner, no greasy takeout waiting for you on the table, or two pairs of ears eager to listen to the shit that went down at work today, but you'll get over it.
then months later they see you at a bar. johnny's trying his best to not just slide up to you and purr into your ear about how gorgeous you look, how blue's his favourite colour and this shade looks so good on you, and did ye wear this tight lil thing just for me, hen? simon's not doing any better; there's a you-shaped hole in his chest, and he wants nothing more than to go home with you and johnny under each arm, but they know they lost their chance with you.
they know this because when you finally catch the source of whoever the hell is staring holes into your head, there's no falter. there's nothing in your eyes that says you want them anymore—you look at them, then look away.
(they don't know your heart still aches for them.)
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luveline · 2 months
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Hii! How are you?
I love all ur fics especially Hotch and his adult daughter ones. They are just brilliant<3 Can u please write something with Hotch being worried about his daughter as faints or get injured? Thank you!
thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k
There are silver-linings to your concussion. Not many, and he’d much prefer you were better, but silver linings all the same. 
You, unable to look after yourself with on-again off-again dizziness and shortness of breath, have no choice but to stay at Aaron’s house. (Well, you could’ve stayed home, and he could’ve come to visit you a few times a day while your mother worked, but this is easier on his gas tank and his heart.) 
The silver lining is that he actually gets to spend time with you, large swaths of it, and that he gets to see you without your smart formalwear for the first time since you’d met all but four months ago. It will never not be strange to have a daughter and to be her acquaintance, but Aaron feels that this time is perfect to get to know you beyond two hour dinners and texts. 
It is admittedly occasionally awkward, but he doesn’t expect it to be easy. He doesn’t need you to pretend that you’re more comfortable with him than you are, or that he’s been there for you as you deserved. He wishes he was, and he can’t forgive your mother for keeping you a secret, but he can understand her reasoning (to some extent), and he can try to give you what you deserve, because it is about you. You’re a young woman who deserves a father and has one now. He’s determined to prove that it isn’t too late. 
You curl on the family couch with a new pillow under your head. You wear pyjamas he bought you, socks you’ve borrowed, and a big blanket covers your legs. Jack sits on your feet eating grapes from a bowl. 
You look younger without makeup. Aaron can almost see you as a kid. 
“You want another grape?” Jack asks you. 
“Please, buddy,” you whisper, holding out your hand. 
You’re trying not to talk or move too much, as movement hurts your nose, which was broken. Aaron still can’t believe someone hurt you —you were assaulted in the subway during a city riot and passed out as result, where you hit your head, and ended up where you are now with post concussive syndrome.
A bad fall can do such great harm, he can’t imagine how awful it would’ve been to have met you and had you stolen from him that swiftly. He’s a lucky man. 
Aaron almost hadn’t answered when you called, about to change into Kevlar and prepare the BAU for an anti-terroism strike that Strauss shoved into their laps. He’d smiled briefly at your contact photo and thought of the phone call he’d have with you later to apologise for missing the first, but then he got a strange feeling. What could it hurt for him to make sure you weren’t in the centre of it? 
“Do you want water?” Jack asks. 
You hold out your hand again, searching for Jack’s. You find it and give his fingers a squeeze. “No thank you. You don’t have to worry about me, I just want you to watch your movie.” 
“I’ve seen it a hundred– hundred times,” he says, taking his hand back to eat another grape. After a moment, he lays his cheek against your legs where you have them bunched up. 
“Don’t choke on your grapes,” you say. 
“Don’t worry,” he says. 
You laugh quietly. “I won’t.”
Aaron closes his laptop, having failed to work from home in the armchair beside you both. He might need some help to get back to a functioning place when he returns to the office, but his hands itch with a different need today. He checks his watch. 
“Time for another dose, if you want it?” he asks you. 
“Please.” 
It’s only anti-nausea and painkillers, but you’re quite dependent on them. He’s staying on top of them, because on your second morning here, you’d woken up and forgotten the anti-nausea. Being sick with a broken nose is agony. He doesn’t wanna see you crying again. (Though again, that had made you closer. To get to rub your back, and promise it wasn’t too disgusting, he could deal with it no problem.) 
Haley hums in the kitchen. She’s happy to have her way, which is to have him home, if vaguely bitter that it’s for you. He understands her annoyance, but it’s different. If Jack were attacked and recovering, of course Aaron would be home with him, as he’s home with you, but he won’t stay home for much less and lately, it's been a point of great contention between them. 
Still, she’s a good woman who looks after everyone the best that she can. Your pills are waiting on the counter with a glass of apple juice and a muffin, and your laundry is being folded from the dyer next to Jack’s. 
Aaron ushers her in for a grateful hug, a kiss pressed to her soft cheek. “Thank you, honey.” 
“You’re welcome. She shouldn’t take so much tylenol when she’s barely eating. You’re gonna have to convince her.” 
“I will. I was thinking I’d make soup. You know, my mom’s split pea. What do you think?” 
“Does she like split pea soup?” 
“I don’t know.” 
“Just ask, Aaron,” she says, not without sympathy. 
“I was going to.” 
Haley gives a long sigh. “I’m sorry.” 
He rubs her arm. They’ve been very far apart lately, so far that he’s wondered if they’re not going to make it work, but for today they seem back in sync. 
“Don’t be sorry,” he says. 
“No, I am. I know it’s impossible, but I keep imagining how I would feel if it happened to me.” She wipes lint or maybe nothing from his collar. “What if I had a baby out there and I knew nothing about her? It’s not… not fair on either of you.” 
“Worse things have happened, Hale.” Because it really is awful, but he doesn’t need anyone to feel sorry for him. You, yes. Poor girl, your poor nose. Aaron gives Haley a quick kiss. “We’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it, hm?” 
“Okay, honey. Well, find out what she wants for dinner.” 
“I’m gonna make it.” 
“I can make it.” She moves back to her pile of laundry. “I don’t have much to do, with you home. It’s nice.” 
He winces, grabbing your pills, your juice, and the muffin. Aaron has no qualms sharing duties, but he can’t have this conversation again. Of course it’s nice to be home, that’s not the issue. 
You and Jack are exactly where he left you eating grapes and watching TV, but you’ve shifted upward a little to make more room for him, the blanket now over his legs.
“Are you looking after your big sister?” Aaron asks. He can’t help himself. 
Jack grins at him. “Yeah, dad. We need more grapes.” 
“Yeah?” Aaron walks around the couch to pass you the few pills into your hand. He crouches in front of you. It hasn’t stopped feeling alien, suddenly having two kids, but it has started to feel right. “It’s dinner time soon, Jack, can you wait? I don’t want you to have a full tummy.”
“What’s for dinner?” he asks. 
Aaron passes you the glass of juice for you to wash down the pills. “I was thinking we’d let Y/N choose…” He taps your knee gently. “Do you have a craving for anything?” 
“I can’t choose,” you say. 
His hand turns to cup your knee, hoping it isn’t too much. “Sure you can. Jack chooses dinner all the time.” 
“I’ll eat whatever.” 
“You’ve barely eaten all day, isn’t there something you love? Something soft?” 
You look like him when you’re not happy. Unsure, you look to Jack. “Can’t Jack pick, please?” 
“It’s your turn,” Jack says. 
Aaron puts the muffin he’d been given for you on your knee. “Honey, just think about it. There’s no rush. You and Jack can live off grapes for the rest of the night.” 
“Mean,” you murmur. 
Jack slips off of the couch with his bowl. He makes for the kitchen, his wobbly declarations of love cute and ringing when he sees his mom. “Hi, mommy. You’re pretty. Can I have grapes?” 
“Hi baby.” 
You smile, fingertip playing with the muffin’s paper casing. “He’s so lovely.” 
“I know.” 
“It’s okay, right?” 
Aaron holds your gaze. Not commanding, but listening intently. “What’s okay?” 
“For us to– you know. To cuddle.” 
“Yes, it’s okay. Jack makes his own mind up about things, and if he wants to cuddle with you, he will. If you don’t want him to cuddle, you can ask him for space.” 
“It’s strange,” you say, laying your face against your pillow, muffin ignored, “to have a brother now.” 
“Bad strange?” he asks. 
You smile. Almost hopeful. “No.” 
Aaron does know what you’re thinking. He has four months of evidence on your behaviour, and you aren’t dishonest, so he believes his frame of reference to be correct. Right now, you’re feeling unwell, maybe the pain in your face is flaring or your concussion is giving you grief, but you seem to already love your little brother. If not love, then to be very fond of him. You have similar feelings about Aaron, but you’re shy about showing it. 
He understands that you might not feel very close to him so soon, he understands that you’re practically still strangers, but he loves you. Maybe it’s something innate in being your father, but he really does love you. 
It’s like being passed your baby —you don’t know your baby, they’re a baby, but you love them. Aaron doesn’t know if you like vegetable soup more than French onion, if you like buttered bread or a dinner roll or toasted baguette on the side, but he’ll learn. 
“I’ll make you anything you want for dinner,” he says softly, looking for your hand in the blankets, and taking it with similar care. “You just have to tell me what you like.” 
You look down at his hand. 
“Sorry for making things difficult.” 
“You’re not making anything difficult.” His thumb rubs your hand of its own accord. “You aren’t difficult. You’re remarkably easy to look after.” 
“Thank you.” 
“If you could just pick what you wanted for dinner…” 
You both laugh at one another, and you wince at the soreness in your nose. Aaron stands from his crouch with aching legs to pat you on the shoulder. 
“I’ll figure something out,” he says. “I’m a good guess, usually.” 
“Okay. Thank you, Aaron,” you say, resting with a sore squint back against your nest. 
In the kitchen, Jack sits in Haley’s lap, his bowl filled again with more grapes. She’s chewing on one when he comes back. “Hey, did she decide?” 
“Not yet. I’m working on it.” 
“Well, we have time.” 
687 notes · View notes
axelsagewrites · 10 months
Text
Jace Velaryon*Frat Baby
Pairing: Jace x pregnant!f!reader
Word count: 1688
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Warnings: rivalry, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Masterlist Here
Part One Here
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Jace had went from being your sworn childhood enemy to fuck buddy to now the most awkward conversation of your life. You had been avoiding completely for the past month as you debated what to do so when Jace got the ‘we need to talk’ text he made sure he was free the next day for lunch. You were sat in a café across from campus, anxiously sipping on the caffeine-free tea Sansa had insisted you switch to instead of your regular coffee.
You wondered if the hole in your stomach was morning sickness or nerves but you just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best as you waited. Jace walked in, dressed like a burst bag of clothes, and anxiously scanned the room before rushing to your table. “You’re late,”
“Class ran over. have you ordered?” he said making you roll your eyes at his lack of apology as he ordered from the very perky waitress you were for some unknown reason suddenly jealous of. after he ordered, even ordering you your favourite sandwich which you were shocked he knew, he turned his attention back to you, “So what’s ‘Defcon one’?” he asked, quoting your text.
You took a deep breath as you debated how to say it before suddenly the words tumbled out, “I’m late,”
“I thought you didn’t have class today?” Jace asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy making you face palm. A few beats of silence passed before Jace said a quiet oh, followed by a louder oh, followed by a “oh fuck,” followed by one more quiet oh.
“You good?”
“I mean sure. Are you?” he asked, sitting up suddenly and leaning over the table and dropping his voice, “Does it like hurt?”
You stared at this frat boy for a solid three seconds before rolling your eyes, “I’m pregnant not dying!”
“I thought it hurt, okay?”
“It hurts later on,”
“How am I supposed to know that?”
“Highschool biology!”
“I ditched that week!”
“Yeah, to fuck Sara Snow!” the waitress who brought your food offer gave an awkward smile making you both sigh and drop your voice. “Look I get this isn’t what we planned for but,” you paused for a second before finally saying the words out loud, “I wanna keep it, him, her, them I don’t know. but either way I totally do not expect you do be involved and I wont even tell your mom but I- “
“Eh!” Jace cut you off, his eyes widening as his shoulders tensed, “No! you don’t get to just toss me aside during this,”
“I’m not tossing you aside- “
“Yes, you are! It’s my kid!”
“It’s a clump of cells,”
“My god damn cells. Half of them belong to me,”
“What you want me to stick em on a petri dish?” you spat out, “Look I’m just trying to give you an out,”
“Who said I wanted an out?”
“You wanna raise this baby?”
“Yes, I wanna raise *my* baby,”
“It’s my baby,”
“Our baby!” Jace said before sighing, “Look I’m not going anywhere and don’t for a second think I’m gonna leave my kid behind thinking I’m a dead beat. No this is what’s gonna happen- “
“You are in no position to tell me what to do- “
“Shut up!” Jace snapped, “Honest to god shut up and listen to me okay cause I am freaked the fuck out right now but I am not gonna abandon you,” he said and you weren’t sure if it was the foetus getting to your brain but it was the sweetest way he’d ever told you to shut up which would normally be met with a rude slap, “We are gonna do this together. I’m gonna get a part time job at my family’s firm. We’re gonna save like hell and then by the time our last year rolls around the baby will be like what? 3 months?”
“Two,” you said as you let Jace recover from his spiral.
“Right two. We’re gonna get a flat off campus and we’ll just have to pick our classes at the same time to make sure we can do it, okay?” he said but the way his eyes were strained made you wonder if he was genuinely asking for reassurance.
“We got this,” you said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, “We’ll figure it out,”
Jace let out a heavy sigh of relief as he sunk into his chair and picked up his sandwich, “Okay good. Now eat up. And we’re getting dessert too. You’re eating for two,”
-
Shockingly Jace had been sweet this whole time. each day he dropped off snacks or random baby things he’d found at your dorm. This ranged from dummies to blankets to a fucking crib catalogue. When summer break came you were pregnant, terrified, and explaining to both your parents and Jace’s about the whole situation.
They were unpredictably happy. That was till you told them you weren’t a couple and your mums both deflated a little but eventually they got back with the programme. You expected Jace to lap up his final child free summer out partying but instead he took day trips with you to the beach, went out baby shopping with you, and would just sit in with you watching movies and eating ice cream. You wondered if he was trying to make you gain 100 sizes by the end of this pregnancy with the amount of junk food, he got you. he’d even drive over at 2am with whatever weird pregnancy craving you had.
The giving birth part was the terrifying bit. But Jace held your hand through every push. “Just one more,” the midwife told you as you began to break Jace’s hand with your grip but finally you heard the cries and let your head fall back into the pillow as you panted, “It’s a girl!”
“We have a daughter,” Jace grinned, a wide dopey smile on his face. His head turned to face you and soon you broke out in your own smile as they cleaned your baby up. You saw his head begin to dip but this kiss was far different from any other.
It was sweet and tender and life altering even if it lasted a second before the woman brought your daughter over and placed her on your chest, “Hi baby,” you cooed at her.
Jace leant over to get a better view, “She’s so pretty,” he whispered, “just like you,” he added as he kissed the top of your head, not even poking fun at the sweaty state of it.
-
Jace moved into the guest room at your house for the first week of your daughter's life but soon he ended up in your room. He said it was for convenience but that didn’t explain why he held you in his arms. As you began to unpack your things in your new flat as your baby slept you turned to Jace, “What are we?” you asked as he unpacked the plates.
He rolled his eyes at you as he put them in the cupboard, “My girlfriend you idiot,”
“You never asked,” you shot back, hand on hip.
He turned to you with his cockiest face possible, “Sorry I thought between the sex, cuddling, and baby we just had you would’ve caught on,”
“Uhuh,” you rolled your eyes as he turned away from you to continue unpacking but you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your cheek against his back, “Ask me,”
You could hear him chuckle before he turned around, taking your face in his hands, “Will you be my girlfriend?”
You grinned before putting on your best thinking face, “I suppose I could be,”
“You suppose,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he lent in to kiss you only to be rudely interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. “I’m gonna kill him,” Jace groaned as he ran to the door to stop the noise, so the baby didn’t wake.
“What up bro?” Cregan whisper shouted as he hurled into your flat, “Where’s the baby?”
“She’s in the nursery sleeping,” Jace said, slapping him in the stomach as he mentioned the sleep.
Cregan rolled his eyes as he passed Jace and walked up to you with an overflowing gift bag, “Consider this a baby-welcome home-nice to meet you properly gift,” he said as he handed you the bag.
You laughed as you began to empty the contents onto the bunker to find university baby sized hoodies, t shirts, hats, and even a scarf. Of course, digging further in you found a soccer jersey, baby sized of course, rattles, and then your hand settled on a box. “Condoms?” you asked, holding the box in the air.
“Hey!” Cregan defended, hands in the air, “She’s cute and all but I’m not ready to be a double uncle. They’ll overtake me when I babysit,”
You and Jace turned to each other before looking back at him, eyes narrowing with concern, “Who said you were babysitting?” Jace asked.
Cregan just rolled his eyes as he began to wander and look for the nursery, “Bitch please she needs me. I’m the fun uncle,”
“You’re not her uncle?” you said as he reached the pink painted nursery door.
Cregan span round, hand on heart and hurt in his eyes, “Not cool man. She’s not just your guy’s baby. She’s basically the frat baby,”
You debated arguing more but watching Cregan, a built like a truck manly man, fawn over a baby no bigger than a doll was too cute to interfere with. You weren’t sure how you survived university with a baby and a Jace btu somehow with a lot of help from Cregan and Sansa who had become expert babysitters by now you managed. Some day you would have to explain to your daughter her parents were sworn enemies but not today. No today your daughter was three years old and teaching Jace to do Taylor Swift choreography with her so they could surprise you.
Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons
@aleemendoza2425-blog  @happinessinthebeing @bellstwd
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foulphantomllama · 4 months
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My Secret Desire | AESPA Winter x Male Reader
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I decided to post the new chapter today because I was supposed to post something else today. But as you can guess, I did not liked it enough to post it. So enjoy the new chapter!
4. The Package
She send me a pair of her underwear. With a little note on them saying “Make good use of them until i come back and get them.” And she drew a little emoji winking at the end.
But she wasn’t coming over. Neither to school nor my house. She was barely texting me. And when she does, she only makes me horny and disappear completely. I asked about her to one of her friends but they were in it too. I all got for a response was to wait. So I waited. After nearly a week and a half later, my door was knocking. It was her. I looked at the peekhole. I opened the door. She went straight in. Saying nothing. She took off her shoes and jumped to my bed. Getting ready to take a nap. I closed the door and started watching her. After a moment of silence I wanted to check on her. She was sleeping. She literally was gone for nearly two weeks and now she is back sleeping in my room.
But no. This was my time to act. I couldn’t just let her win every time. I sit beside her and woke her up. “What?” she asked me. Her attitude was making me angry. This attitude of her was the main reason I hate her as much as I love her. “What do you mean “What?”!” “You come into my house, crying. You’re not saying a single word. We fuck, you disappear for nearly two weeks. Than you sending me your panties. And after a few days later you appear on my doorstep and pretending none of this happened?” She looked at me. Holding her laugh. “Yes.” She said. Then burst into laughing.
I hold her arms. I mean, I hold them pretty tight. Her laugh was disappearing quickly. She realized that I’m really angry now. But she was not holding back either. “Come on big boy, what do you have in mind?”
I knew her intention. She wants sex again. But no. She needs to know that she does not always get what she wants from me. We fuck when I want to fuck. She grabbed my cock. But my cock was not hard this time. Because I was furious. “Come on, stop resisting. I know you want me.” She was thigtening her grab as she talks to me. I pushed her to the bed. “Okay, now we’re talking.” She said. But the following event was not someting that she would expect. I dressed up, took the keys and locked her inside my apartment. She has no other option to wait for me. My apartment was pretty high up so she couldn’t use the balcony to run away. But also, I had zero worries that she wants to escape. I was confident that she will wait for me. No matter how long I took to come back to my apartment.
I grabbed some ramen from my favourite store. It was just around the corner of my apartment. Then I rented a film from one of the stores that is not far from my apartment. Then I go to my apartment. Opened the door. There she was. Sitting on the toilet without closing the toilets door. “You should at least close the door.” I said to her. She rolled her eyes and answered. “You should be grateful that I did not pissed on to your carpet. You dick.” She was acting just like I imagined she would. “I am hungry. You did get something to eat, right?” I showed her the ramen I bought. “You’re the best boyfriend in the world.” Then she added. “Probably.” I asked her while I put the ramens on the kitchen counter. “What do you mean boyfriend?” She got up and came towards me. “Duh, dude you fucked me and cum into my throat. And I fucking swallowed it. What do you think we are? Study buddies?”
“So, you loved me from the beggining.” I asked. “Both.” She answered. “I fucking love you so much and I hate you so fucking much.” She also said. I can take that. “I love you because you’re the most precious person ever. I hate you because you’re too precious to be real. That you will gone to your own country an forgot about me.”
Her words hurt me a lot. But not in a bad way. I was hurt because I did not see it before. She was never bullying me. She just wanted my attention. Because she was thinking that I will leave her because she was not clever enough. What a bad way to think about yourself. And this was the exact reason I hated her to my guts. She was so hard to get along with. She was meaning the world to me. Yet, whenever I tried to show her this, she accused me by being delusional. Saying she is not enough for me or so. I may be too harsh to say I hated her just for this, trust me this kind of toxicity can kill. But my love for her was always getting the spotlight. It was the same for her too.
“I am so sorry If I ever hurt you with my words. I was never a bully. I just wanted your attention. And you weren’t giving me.” She hit me with your little fist as she talks. I hugged her. “No, I won’t be going anywhere. Not now at least.” She showed me her middle finger. And then she realized the film I rented. She took the dvd and started inspecting it. “I heard that this one is so shit.” She said. “It is pure shit.” I answered. Her response was hilarious, and expected. “Then why the fuck you rented this?” It turns out that this was just the way she communicates. Not exactly helping her with the social life but, kind of makes her hot and cute. Or I was just obsessed with her.
I prepared the ramen and we started eating. “Put the film on.” She said. I put the film on. In under ten minutes our meals were finished. She paused the film and said “Okay let’s agree on something.” I said go on. “If i get bored in the next ten minutes, we fuck. If I don’t we don’t fuck.” I was confused a little. “Why do I get punished for choosing I film that you probably like?” I asked. “Haha. That is how I work, honey.”
She watched that entire film. I can realize that she wasn’t really liked it. But she did it because she wanted to annoy me. But I wanted her. So I started to kiss her neck. “No hickeys.” She said. “My mother will fucking kill me.” Of course I was going to give her a hickey. “If you’re going to give me a hickey just do it on a place my mother wouldn’t be able to see.” She said. I took of her tshirt. I left a hickey on her left shoulder. “Your mother wouldn’t see that, I think.” I said. She mimics me. Then laughs. “You ruined the ending.” She said. “Come on! It was already shit how I could possibly ruined the ending.” I answered. She nodded.
“I’m just going to give you a blowjob, and get the hell out of here. I’m already late. I was gone to buy some rice. My mother still waiting me to bring rice.” She said. “I have an unopened package of rice. You can take it on your way out.” She gave me a thumbs up. Then took off my pyjamas. She was on her knees. She licked my cock over my underwear. Then she took of my underwear. Took my cock inside her mouth. Her mouth was so warm. And I already knew that she is very skilled when it comes to sucking cock. But she was too shy to make eye contact. I did not pushed her to her limits just yet. I just let her give me head peacefully, in her own terms. “Are you going to swallow it again?” I asked. She took it off from her mouth to answer me. “Well, i want to but you bought me a gigantic ramen. I don’t want to throw up the first meal you bought me.” She started sucking it again. I asked her to look into my eyes. She started to look up. She was looking so good with my cock in her mouth. I mean, she was probably the cutest girl I’ve ever seen. And she was my girlfriend.
“I’m going to swallow it.” She said. “Do not pull it out when you’re about to cum.” I pulled my cock out. “What makes you change your mind.” I asked her. “You forgot to buy me beverage. Can I please finish it and go???” “Okay, okay sorry.” I answered. “All yours.” She got faster and faster. Then I came into her mouth. First she showed me her mouth full of my cum. Then she swallowed it and showed me her empty mouth. I pull her closer to me and kissed her lips. “You just kissed your own cum.” She laughed. “But off your mouth.” I answered. “But it makes you gay.” She answered. I looked at her face laughing. “Okay, I’m going. Give me the rice.” I give her the rice I bought the other day. “Hey, mom! I just blowed my boyfriend and he give me a packet of rice.” She was laughing out loud while saying that. “At least you keep the money.” I said.  “You’re so very right sir. Goodbye.” She saluted me and went out the door. I followed her. “No kiss goodbye?” She came closer, I was taller than her. She signalizes me to bow down. I did. She put her middle finger into my mouth. “Here’s your kiss.”
God I love her.
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jarofstyles · 5 months
Text
Take Me Higher
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Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣
Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!
Send requests here
WC- 2.5k
Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc
Picture is not mine, credits to owner
————-
The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.
“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.
“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.
Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.
A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.
“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.
“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.
“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.
“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”
“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”
Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”
Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.
Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.
Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.
Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”
She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.
“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.
His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.
She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.
“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.
Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.
“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”
Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.
Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.
“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.
“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.
“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.
“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.
“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.
“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.
“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”
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shroomdreams · 2 months
Note
Since we’re in monsterfucker territory, maybe could I request gn reader that’s shorter than character of your choice that teases reader a lot about being small
Turns out reader is a shapeshifter who just doesn’t want to waste energy being tall but decides to show them whose boss in the bed >:)
Characters off the bat that I think could work: Aventurine, Sampo, Scar, Kafka, blackswan, Boothill, jing yuan, Kaeya, Lisa, tartaglia, venti,
Sorry that it’s super obvious I’m not as far into the other two fandoms lol
Love To See You Come Undone
Various Sub!Characters x Dom!Shapeshifter!Reader
a/n: oh buddy YOU ARE IN FOR A TREAT! Let's make this a multi-fandom post >:3 btw because the reader is a shapeshifter they'll be treated as gender neutral, but I'll specify if they're topping/bottoming THE SIZE KINK IS REAL IN THIS ONE GUYS
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Sampo (Top!Reader)
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Sampo, Sampo, Sampo... Even though he follows an Aeon known for their unpredictability, he never expected this side from you. He had fun teasing you for your height, assigning you an array of height-related nicknames whenever you two interacted
He was loosely aware that there's something beneath that visage you wore, but he figured that you'd be easy enough to figure out. What kind of noises can he get you to make? What faces will you show him? Too bad he's imagining the wrong end of the spectrum
When he got you in bed, you had him lay back while you slipped into something more comfortable... His eyes widened as your form grew to tower over him, caging his now smaller body beneath him. "H-heh, guess you can teach this old dog new tricks?" He weakly says as you smirked down at him
Sampo finds himself desperately clinging onto a pillow for dear life while you ravaged his behind, hips clapping against his ass as your cock rubs his walls, his eyes rolling up as he let out breathy moans. Sure, he wasn't a virgin, but he'd never been fucked like this before! Sampo arches his back when you slowed down, thrusting deep and slow
"Mmmggpphhh- Oohhhhhaaaaaa- OoooooohhhfffffffffUUUUCK!"
The fool cums the same time you do, panting as your seed fills his ass. You lean over and inspect his fucked out expression, his eyes crossed and tongue out. You take a moment to snap a picture for your own pleasure later on
After that, Sampo doesn't view you the same anymore. He still jokes around with you, but he whimpers when you remind him who's really in charge
Kafka (Top!Reader)
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You're as short as Silver Wolf, maybe even shorter by a few inches. It doesn't matter as Kafka often kidnaps you to dress you up in various frilly outfits. "It's cause you're a lil' dolly, sweetie~" She teases, fixing the bow in your hair.
Really, you tolerated it for so long, but it got on your nerves whenever Kafka condescends to you. So one day, she receives a brown, paper bag with her name written on it. Inside was a lingerie set in her signature purple. When she confronts you about it, you tilt your head with a smile. "It wouldn't fit me, silly."
Intrigued, Kafka drags you to the bedroom so she can prove it. But to her shock, you were correct. In fact, it seems that the lingerie is specifically fitted for her. Kafka clicks her tongue. "Hm. I didn't realize you had it in you, sweetcheeks."
Kafka decides to indulge you for today, sensually caressing her body, the lingerie perfecting hugging her curvy body. However, when she joined you in bed, she noticed the size disparity between the two of you had been flipped... To a greater degree. You seem to sink into the mattress, her body nearly falling into your chest.
In the blink of an eye, Kafka finds herself with her eyes clothes and your tongue shoved in her mouth, moans swallowed by you as you slid your fingers in her panties. She rocks her hips back and forth on your much bigger fingers, tainting your digits with her arousal
Kafka sighs as you bounce her up and down on your cock, playing with her nipples while your cock kisses her cervix. "Mmmph, ahhhh~ Fuck, harder, dolly." Harder? You'll give her harder. You suddenly wrap your arms around her waist and pull her down with you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room as your hips thrust up into her tight cunt with wild abandon. "Oh shit- Ohhhh fuck- Ah! Ah! Ohhhhhh fuuuck!"
You fuck her so hard she squirts, her fluids drenching the sheets as you fuck her through her orgasm. Kafka gasps, twitching as you pull out of her, feeling your cum splatter against her ass.
She still calls you her dolly, but now she knows better than to condescend to you these days
Tartaglia (Bottom!Reader)
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Ah yes, the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. You caught his eye when he spotted you training with the bow. He challenged you to a duel, which he won with much difficulty. From then on you became somewhat of an obsession of his.
He thinks you're absolutely adorable when you fight, using your small stature as advantage against taller targets. He likes to joke that the only way you could beat him is in bed. Unfortunately for Childe, his jokes inspired devious things in mind
You've actually had a few sexual encounters with Childe, though he never ventured to the treasure you kept hidden within your undergarments. He figured you must have wanted to wait before doing the deed... So imagine his surprise and excitement when you told him that you want to do it for real.
What he wasn't expecting is your taller stature and your much bigger proportions. His pants suddenly feel much tighter as you pin him to the wall, engaging him in rough kisses. "Hey comrade, how come you- mmh- kept this from me?" He pants, watching you pull down his pants
Childe gasps and groans, leaning his head on the wall as you rode his cock. Your much bigger size meant that his poor legs were constantly being bruised, but he loved it so much. "Aaaaaagh! Hnnng- Coming-" You slammed down on his length, watching him cry out as his cum painted your walls. But it wasn't enough
The Harbinger whimpers, his hands futilely trying to keep your hips up as you bounced on his dick, his thighs sticky from the many orgasms you wrung out from him
The unfortunate side effect is that he's now obsessed with egging you on for another duel with him, this time in your larger form
Scar (Bottom!Reader)
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THIS MAN. Hoo boy he's been pestering you non-stop to join the Fractsidus. He claims to have felt the energy RADIATING from you, the potential you have to bloom in the organization is something he salivates over.
He's very touchy, nipping and biting at your ears in an attempt to rile you up. Handsy fellow too, he's very intrigued that a small body like yours attracted him to you. He wants to know just what you are, since he's extremely certain that you're just what the organization needs
Indeed he finds out what you are when you reveal your taller stature to him. In this one, you're actually a human fused with a tacet discord through ambiguous means, but Scar will focus on that later. Right now he finds you stupidly sexy and if he doesn't bone you right then and there he's burning all of Jhinzhou to the ground
His mouth hangs open as he inches his cock deep in your hole, the heavenly warmth you exude makes him act up. Rutting into you like a lil' bunny, he can barely reach your chest, laying his head on your stomach as he growls through his lust. You laugh and pat his head.
"S-See? I knew- mmmmph- I knew you'd be perfect!" Scar says in between pants, his hair sticking to his forehead while sweat dripped down his face. You coo at him, teasing the tacet mark on his neck. He groans, snapping his hips into your warmth and creaming deep inside.
But it didn't stop there. Scar continued to fuck himself into a stupor, your warmth so inviting- Like he bit into a fruit so sweet he wanted to eat more. You laid back and allowed him to rut into your heat. You were supposed to be the one moaning, and yet here Scar was, his mouth slack open as he came again and again
In the end Scar did manage to get you onboard the Fractsidus. You know that one pic of a bunny being obsessed with his giant gf? Thats you two everytime you're seen together.
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starvity · 7 months
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— ☆ zb1 reacting to you being extra clingy/touchy in public
gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)
genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: physical touch of course, slight jealousy?, some flirting here and there...
author’s note: smaller drabbles today :') (not proofread!) (★ω★)/
ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong
jiwoong is usually the one being touchy in public, especially when he feels a bit jealous so when you’re the one being clingy, he can’t help but giggle when your hands are on him. he won’t let you go any second, you’re stuck with him.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao
hao will get a little bit flustered by the sudden skinship, probably already overthinking and asking you millions of questions "why? are you feeling uncomfortable? are you tired? do you wanna go home?". he’ll probably stick to having his hand on your lower back or knee.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin
hanbin would shoot you a surprised look, immediately laughing shyly. when you tell him there isn’t any ulterior motive and that you’re just feeling affectionate, he’ll melt onto your touch as he hums in satisfaction.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew
i just know matthew would just have a plain smug look on his face. he’d wrap his arm tighter around your shoulders, enveloping your figure with a protective aura until he suddenly whispers in your ear shyly "what’s all that~~".
ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae
taerae gets flustered way too easily when you’re around him, at even 3 meters away from him he’s already hot and nervous. so when you decide to slowly caress his nape and play with his hair while he talks to his friend, he has to excuse himself to the bathroom (and pour 5 litres of water on his burning face).
ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky
ricky might not be used to you being so affectionate but he doesn’t really react. might show you a little smirk with a slight eyebrow raise as he pulls you closer. he’ll take the chance to nonchalantly flirt with you and will love if you match his vibe. WILL tease you about it later though even if he was the one who started it!!
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin
gyuvin definitely thought about playing the lottery on that day because he felt like the luckiest guy in the world. him being the biggest cuddle buddy, you might want to think twice before putting your hands on him because he is not letting go!!! (and he will pout if you put some distance between you and him at some point).
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook
gunwook might get a bit flustered if you flirt back for once, wrapping your arms around his neck and putting your head close to his shoulder to faintly hear his heart speeding up. he'd brush a strand of hair off your face as he smiles sweetly.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin
yujin might get really shy and flustered, slightly pushing you away and opting for tickling if you don't seem to detach yourself from him. despite the teasing, he'd expect you to continue being affectionate like that because he secretly loves it!!
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bluecollarmcandtf · 7 months
Text
Dads, Dads, and more Dads
I did something I shouldn't have! My buds all bailed on our night out, so I hit the bar and got hammered by myself. Somehow, I ended up blackout drunk in a fortune teller's shop. I remember crying about how much I wanted a fatherly figure in my life. She did this weird ritual to make me feel better. I thought it was a joke at the time, but I know now it wasn't...
"Buddy, get out of bed! Breakfast is ready!"
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A pang of guilt empties my stomach. For a moment, I stare at the ceiling with absolutely no urge to eat. It's been two days since that fortune teller put a curse on me, and I have no idea how to live with myself. I obviously can't pretend her little ritual wasn't real anymore.
"Hey, Josh," I nervously answer, stepping into the kitchen to look at my roommate.
"Can't sleep all day, buddy. Eat up!" Josh gives me an endearing smile that sends shivers down my spine.
A few days ago, Josh was a lazy, rude asshole who was only good for paying his part of the rent. We were chill enough roommates, but he only ever talked to me when he wanted a second opinion on girls he saw at the gym. The guy was easily the biggest douchebag in our friend group, always showing off and making someone else the butt of his joke.
Looking at him now, I'd laugh! If only I didn't feel so guilty for his personality's erasure.
"Look at the time! I better get moving. That yard won't maintain itself!" Josh flashes the brand new watch on his wrist. The thing is clunky and old: the kind of wristwatch you'd expect a dad to wear.
"You know we're only renting this place for the semester, right?" I search his expression for any trace of the slimy old Josh, "The landlord is supposed to take care of the yard!"
Josh just chuckles and mutters something about wanting to impress the neighbors. He even has the audacity to reach out and tussle my hair. My face gets hot as a guy, only a month older than myself, treats me like a child.
That curse really screwed up his brain. When Josh found me the morning after, something just broke in him. He immediately jumped to my side and promised to help me nurse my hangover, and it didn't stop there. After he tucked me in for a nap, he drove straight to the mall, buying a whole new wardrobe of cargo shorts and polos. I thought he was just hitting the gym like usual, so when he came back dressed up like the suburban father he hates, I barely even recognized him.
"Have a good day, buddy!"
Josh ignores my protests and plants a big smooch on the back of my head before marching out of the kitchen. It was bad enough my roommate was calling me buddy! Does he really have to kiss me like that too? It makes me uncomfortable to see my scummiest friend infused with such insane paternal instincts, but this is kind of what I asked for. Right?
I slam the back door shut and look at my rusty old bike. Today is already getting on my nerves and I'm not in the mood to peddle all the way to class. Maybe, that guy next door hasn't left for work yet...
"Oh, hey there, Kiddo!"
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The deep voice of my neighbor makes me relax a little. I see all six and a half feet of him climb out of the car and stare at me with the same look Josh had on earlier. He's a father of four, but ever since my night out, he looks at me like I'm him his only real son.
"Hey, Mr. Jones," I mumble back.
"Glad I caught you, Kiddo. I was just about to pull out of the driveway," he explains, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "You want a me to drive you to class today?"
I push aside my feelings of guilt and manage a smile, "That'd be great."
Mr. Jones beams back brilliantly. He claps me on the back, which knocks me a bit off balance. Before I know it, he's guiding me into his passenger seat and asking me to hold his briefcase.
"Just let me text work to let them know I'm coming in later than normal," he adds while texting on his flip phone, "How are classes going, kiddo?"
I shrug off the question with a one-word answer. Now that everyone's forced to act like my dad, I get asked about my classes like twenty times a day. My thoughts drift, but Mr. Jones keeps up the conversation, lecturing me about good grades or something. I don't know how a guy who barely knows me can have so many opinions about my academics!
"You know what!" I cut him off just before he starts reminiscing on his own college years, "Just drop me off at this cafe."
Worry lines form on his forehead, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you the whole way?
"No. Just give me some cash."
Mr. Jones gives me a look of disappointment before shimmying his wallet out of his khakis. He counts off forty dollars and hands it over.
"Can I have a little more?" I press quietly.
Look, I know it's wrong to abuse this bizarre new dynamic between us, but I'm a poor college kid! If he doesn't want to give me his money, he can just say no. It's not like I'm holding a gun to his head!
"Sure thing, kiddo," he gives me a dry smile and pulls out a couple more twenties, "Don't spend it all in one place!"
"Ok, bye," I awkwardly announce and hop out.
"Wait!" his husky baritone calls from the car window, "You want a ride home after class?"
"Nope! Just go back to your own life," I yell stiffly. Even though I don't turn to watch him drive off, I hear his car pull away. It's just a car, but it somehow sounds disappointed in me too. I try to swallow the growing lump in my throat and step into the cafe for some much needed coffee...
"Morning, young man. What can I get you?"
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The lump in my throat seems to get bigger when I see the waiter. He's a lot hotter of a man than I expected to find in this little cafe.
Already, the way he looks at me is shifting. That curse is transforming whatever thoughts he'd just had in his head. He's feeling more and more protective and responsible for me with every second he looks at me. At this point, I've grown accustomed to the mysterious effect I have on older guys. It's only been a few days, but I've seen so many random dudes go through this psychological transition. It's like they're discovering a new purpose in life: me.
"Uh yeah, I guess a cappuccino would be nice," I mutter with a dry mouth.
"You got it, young man!" he gives me a friendly wink, "Anything else I can get you?"
I know I shouldn't push my luck, but I can't help myself with this guy, "A hug would be nice! I've been feeling a bit isolated lately..."
The waiter instantly puts his pen and paper down and holds out his arms. His welcoming smile is gone, and a look of genuine concern waits for me, "Come here."
I practically leap into his arms, and he eagerly accepts me, pulling me into his chest like it's where I belong. It feels amazing to be held by this man, even if I don't know him at all. I could stay here all day if he'd let me.
"Seems like you're enjoying the hug," the waiter eventually chuckles into my ear.
For a second, I'm confused, but then I realize I'm fully erect and the waiter can definitely feel it poking into his waist.
"Sorry!" I jump back, searching for any other witnesses.
"Hey, don't be!" he assures me, "It's a completely normal part of life, ok?"
"You're not mad?" my voice comes out more timid than I expected, but I can't help myself. I just accidentally boned up someone who was trying to be nice. What makes it worse, is that he's probably only trying to be nice because of my ridiculous curse.
"Of course not," he affirms, "I can help you take care of it, if that's ok, young man?"
"What do you mean?" My face burns red hot.
"Oh, let me show you," he grabs me by the hand and leads me away from the table, "There's no need to be ashamed of any part of your body! In fact, this part can be a lot of fun."
I'm left speechless as the waiter gives me another fatherly wink, but I can't linger on what he's said. I'm being pulled into the men's restroom. I hear the click of the door locking behind us as he pulls me in front of the mirror, sliding up behind me. I can feel his chest on my back and his thighs against my ass.
If I was hard before, I'm practically bursting now!
"It's time you had the talk, young man," he calmly speaks in my ear like this is a completely normal thing for a waiter to do.
He starts droning on about men, women, sex, and where babies come from, but I'm not listening. I obviously know what sex is, and I think I'm having it right now. His hands slip under my arms and wrap around my waist to unzip my pants. My rock-hard cock bursts out of my jeans the second they're open, and a moan of surprised ecstasy fumbles over my lips just when the waiter gets to his point on male anatomy.
Does the waiter really believe a dad should do this for their sons?
He starts talking me through how to jack off. He must think I've never masturbated before, and I'm sure as hell not telling him that I have! Hearing him narrate every wrist movement, every ball tug, every nipple pinch is just too much fun! Before long, the waiter has me violently shooting on our reflections in the mirror.
"And there you go," he pats me on the back while I stand there stunned. The waiter steps back and looks at me like he's proud of the great life lesson he'd just taught me, "Now you know how to get rid of those boners of yours. Let me go get your coffee started."
I stand in the bathroom, collecting myself, as the waiter finally tends to my coffee order. This dad-curse the fortune teller gave me might be more fun than I originally thought. If I can get one daddy to randomly jack me off, then who knows what else I can do! Rushing out of the bathroom, I already have so many ideas flooding through my head...
"Excuse me, sir!"
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"Sorry!" I shout.
In my excitement, I almost crash into the cafe's porter. A little less graceful, and I would have sent every single dish crashing to the floor. Glancing at the face of my would-be victim, I almost moan when I see get a good look at him. I can tell his head is already filling up with the same artificial need to be my father.
"No damage done," he assures me, lingering back to stare at me like I'm some lost puppy.
"Don't you...um...have to bus some tables or something," I breath nervously.
"Oh yeah," he frowns, "Sorry to get in your way."
He shakes his head like he's trying to lose the strange new thoughts in his brain. I stand there frozen like a deer in headlights as he walks away. He glances back at me before turning his attention to a cluttered table.
"Wait!" I yell, "Come back!"
The busboy drops the tub of dirty dishes and rushes back over like his life depends on it. The sight of this worried hunk running back to me makes me hard all over again.
I grab him and pull him into a hug, but his arms quickly take over and support me. Once again, my boner is rock hard and poking into the body of some random guy I just met!
"You have a car?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"You want to drive me around?"
"Of course!" he yanks off his apron and puts a hand on my back.
The waiter comes back around and hands me my coffee, looking at his coworker in utter confusion.
"Cover his shift," I demand, "He's driving me to school."
The waiter nods with an open mouth. He does look completely confused, but there's also a hint of jealousy in his stare. I think he's mad the busser gets to chauffeur me around: poor guy.
The porter doesn't seem bothered to be walking out of his job. He's busy smiling at me like I'm his whole world. I slide into his humble car and tell him where my class is. Before long, he's pulling out of the parking lot and driving me to school. I use our time to get to know him. I'm honestly not all that interested in learning about his life, but I do enjoy watching him talk. It doesn't take a while for us to get to campus, but before I get out I grab his hand and put on my best puppy dog eyes.
"I don't know when you get off work, but I'd love it if you came by my apartment. My roommate is trying to clean it up, but he could really use the help of someone more experienced."
"I love housework!" he just answers, "I'll be there!"
I snicker and slam the car door shut. I might be an hour late, but I'm finally here for class. It's time to give my professor a visit...
"Yeah, I can unbutton my shirt!"
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My professor fell under my spell just as fast as the others. He had a look of anger when I walked in; probably from me skipping his class, but that expression quickly warped as he looked at me. Within seconds he was rounding his desk to give me a big old hug. Apparently, he "forgave" me for being so late.
"You like what you see?" he asks, gesturing to his hairy chest, "Trying to check out your old man?"
"You're my old man?" I ask, kind of surprised by the goofy smile on his face.
"Well, no," he bumbles, "But I am a strong male influence in your life! I'm like your dad!"
I nod my head like he's just made a really good point, "Oh. Then you probably want to treat me like your son. Right?"
"Yeah!" he holds his arms out to animate his enthusiasm.
Professor Reid has a reputation for being stiff and demanding in the classroom, so his new personality completely contradicts his true character. The man I know would never smile at a student, let alone bare his chest to them.
"So, I'm off the hook for missing today's class right?"
"Well," he pauses, "Sure."
"Can I skip the rest of the semester?"
"What, no. I want you to have a good education, my boy!"
I creep up to him and place my hands on his hairy torso, feeling the fur and the weight of his body. Professor Reid sure has a lot to hide under all those dress shirts he always wears.
"I'm just so lucky to have a daddy like you," I purr, "A daddy who's willing to do everything he can for me."
My professor grabs my arm and stares into my eyes. With a serious tone, "I am willing to do everything for you, my boy."
"Alright," I smile, "You should give me private lessons then..."
"What a great idea," he's back to grinning like an idiot.
"...and you should always do it in your underwear!"
"I can do that. From now on, I'll be stripped and ready before you come in!" He smiles at me like this is the best decision he's ever made in his life.
"Alright, now pull the rest of your clothes off," I command, "I want to see what the rest of my daddy looks like."
Mr. Reid doesn't hesitate to start stripping in front of his favorite student. I could probably get this guy to do anything now. I can already imagine our private lessons; me lounging in his leather armchair and him on his knees with his mouth full. Maybe that curse isn't a curse at all. Maybe it's actually a gift...
"Hey, buddy! How was class today?"
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Josh looks tired from a long day of yardwork, but he still seems excited for me to come home. The lawn looks immaculate compared to our neighbors', and I have my roommate to thank for that.
"The grass looks great, dad."
"Dad! Woah!" Josh yells ecstatically, "Buddy, I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that."
Josh sweeps me up in his arms. Apparently, it doesn't bother him to be the father figure of a guy only a few months younger than himself. It doesn't bother me anymore either. I kind of like that he smells like aftershave and bacon now instead of weed and sweat.
"Let's go inside, buddy. I'll cook something up for dinner," Josh says with a hand on my back. I'm already growing so accustomed to being guided around everywhere.
"Actually, I invited a guy to come over," I admit, "He can cook. You should relax. You got a lot of work done today, dad."
"I did, didn't I?" he smiles proudly, "Let me grab a beer, then. We can watch TV."
"Actually, I thought there might be something else you'd enjoy."
"You know me so well, buddy. What are you thinking?"
"You could bend over the couch..."
Josh cringes and shakes his head. Once again, it's like he's fighting the foreign thoughts entering his head.
"...I know how much you like to make me happy, and I really want to pound ass right now."
For a second, a look of horror flashes over his face, but it's gone in an instant. A bright fatherly smile spreads between his cheeks.
"That sounds perfect, buddy. Enjoy yourself."
Josh doesn't look away as he unbuttons his cargo shorts, smiling at me with love and devotion the entire time. He seems completely relaxed as he bends over the couch, and he only seems to become more comfortable as he spreads his cheeks apart.
Once again, I'm rock hard as I stare at one of my dads. This curse might have made me feel guilty before, but Josh said it himself.
I think I will enjoy myself.
Thanks for the ASK, Vebrendos
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Text
Study Buddies
isaac lahey x reader
summary: isaac asks you for help in chemistry. you agree on one condition.
tags: high school, studying / tutoring, mutual crushes, awkward flirting, caught in a lie, shyness, embarrassment, play fighting / tickling, bad puns, confessions, first kiss, teasing, fluff, pre-wolf isaac; his dad still sucks; autistic-coded reader
word count: 4.5k
a/n: this is my first time writing for teen wolf. I feel like I'm encroaching on claimed territory. 😅 also i've had this tab up for almost a week but have been afraid to post it, so here goes
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Mr. Harris slides your progress report down onto your desk before you have a chance to react, and it catches wind and falls to the ground a moment later. You sigh and roll your eyes, but he’s already halfway across the room, impatiently handing out the rest of his stack. Your own little slip of paper is nowhere by your feet, and you resist the urge to make a remark about it. 
“Hey.” A voice interrupts your intruding thoughts at the same time a tap lands on your shoulder. Gentle, as if the tapper hates to disturb you, yet needs your attention. 
You turn, and temporarily forget about your lost report as your eyes meet Isaac’s, the boy who sits behind you, and has the cutest smile imaginable. You drop your gaze instantly, only for it to fall on his dimpled smile, and then, finally, on the paper held between two fingers. 
“I think this is yours,” he says, holding it out to you. 
Your name is clearly printed on the front, followed by your most recent grades in the class. You blush, immediately remembering it had dropped in the first place. 
“Oh. Thank you.”
“No problem. He seems like he’s in a mood today.” 
You nod, then take your paper from his hand. By this time, Harris has made his way back to the front, and is clearing his throat in a demand for the class’ silence. Quiet mutterings amongst friends cease at once, and you turn back to face the ill-tempered chemistry teacher. 
“Take a good look at your progress reports. The midterm is coming up, and some of you have more studying to do than others. Today, we will be learning new material, but next class period, we will have a review day. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. You can ask at the appropriate time in class, or come see me after school, or shoot me an email. Regardless of your grade, everyone should be studying, however, some of you have to move up a whole letter or two. That is on you to be aware of, and for you to put in the effort to do. Now, pull out your notes so that we can cover this section. It isn’t the hardest thing we’ll cover, but I expect it will be a struggle for some.”
And after that condescending introduction, he begins to teach. 
When the bell finally rings, your head is swarming with so much chemistry, your eyes are beginning to glaze over and put you to sleep. You’re relatively good at the subject, but that topic was more challenging than he warned it would be, making even you confused at times. You shake your head when you reach your lockers, trying to relieve yourself of the numbers swirling about in your mind. It takes a moment. A very stressful moment. 
A tap on your shoulder, more urgent than the last, pulls you out of your mental headspace. The chemistry bounces out of your mind entirely, bringing you back to reality, but making you jump in place at the sudden contact.
“Sorry,” a familiar voice apologies, “didn’t mean to scare you.”
Turning, you come face-to-face with Isaac again. His normally bright blue eyes are slightly cloudy, which worries you more than you’d like to admit. “No worries. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I have a question, actually, to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Okay, I wasn’t looking at your report, I didn’t mean to see your grades. I accidentally saw them when I picked up your paper, but I promise I wasn’t looking on purpose.” He stalls, continuously apologizing for something not at any fault of his own. 
“It’s okay,” you interrupt as politely as you can. 
He pauses, “um. I was wondering if you could help me? Like, in chemistry. Help me study, kinda like a tutor, I guess?”
You pale immediately. Just because you’re doing okay in the class doesn’t mean you have a clue how to help him understand. “Um-”
“Just… I just need a little help, if you can. I understand if you don’t want to, or can’t, or… I don’t know… are busy.” He runs his tongue along his lips nervously. You snap your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact. 
“I don’t know… I’m not a good teacher.”
“But you’re really good in the class. Probably a better teacher than Harris has been lately.”
You chuckle, but you’re still not sure. Being that close to the boy you’ve liked for ages? On top of not being able to teach well? He’ll reduce you to a stupid, stuttering mess, just look at yourself now, unable to look him in the eye. No, don’t look at him, that was rhetorical. 
“I just,” he continues, “when he was talking about people who needed to go up a whole letter, he was talking about me. I know you’re good, you sit in front of me. If you can even just explain it to me as you study, it would help a lot.”
Half of your mind races to find an excuse, looking for an out, while the other begs you to agree. Isaac shoves a hand in his pocket and waits for a response. You debate with yourself for a moment, but then the urging part of your mind wins the argument with a question of its own. 
“What about this,” you start, “I’ll help you in chemistry, if you help me in French?”
“What?” He asks, taken off guard. “I’m not good at French.”
“You’re better than me. You have the answers to most of Ms. Morrell’s questions, and I can hear you when she asks us to recite words out loud.” His eyes narrow at that, to which you reply, “you sit behind me in French, too.”
“Right.” He smiles, but doesn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he rests his head against the locker beside yours. 
“So?”
“How do you know I’m not just guessing?”
“What’s your grade?”
“A,” he sheepishly answers.
“See? You can tutor me.”
“What’s your grade?”
You purse your lips and avoid his eyes again. “Too embarrassed to say.”
“Really?”
“Languages aren’t my strong suit. We all have our strengths.”
“Alright, deal. Help me in chem, and I’ll help you with French.”
“Sounds good. Library, or at one of our houses?”
“I can probably go to the library sometimes. Maybe during lunch or free period. But after school, I have lacrosse, and you probably don’t want to wait around school for that to be over.”
“Okay, so then your house or mine?”
“Where do you live?”
“Like ten minutes from here. You?”
“A bit closer than that. Parents?”
“Don’t really care what I do.”
“My dad is a little controlling,” he admits. 
“Would he care if I were to come over?”
“Not if you’re helping me study.”
“Okay. You want to meet a couple times a week at your house, and sometimes during lunch?”
“Sure. Practice ends around five. Is seven too late?”
“Not for me.”
“Cool. So, um, I’ll text you, and we can plan dates.” He shakes his head. “I mean, like, what days work best.”
You blush at his embarrassment. “Have to give you my number first, doofus.” 
“Oh.”
You scribble it onto a sticky note and hand it to him. “Let me know.”
“I will. And thank you.”
“Thank you, too.” You hurry your way to your next class, leaving him red in the face and hands at having a girl’s number. Granted, it’s just for studying, but it’s the fact he was able to talk to you at all that has him shaken. Isaac forces himself to breathe, before entering it in his phone and tucking the sticky safely in his backpack. As the bell rings, he hurries to his next class. 
~~~~
The next evening is the first time you meet up to study. You drive to the address he’s given and knock on the door as gently as possible. Isaac had mentioned his dad is controlling, so the first thing you want to do is to avoid pissing him off in any way you could. Controlling could mean a lot of things, and the boy wasn’t specific at all. For both of your sakes, you tread lightly. 
Isaac opens the door a moment later, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweats. You try really hard not to blush as he invites you inside, but then his dad’s strict voice snaps you back into reality. You can see Isaac take a visible deep breath before rounding the corner in the kitchen, you in tow. You put on your best look of professionalism while trying to anticipate how the next couple of minutes might go. 
“And? Who was it?”
“Y/N, the girl I told you I was studying with… with whom I am going to study,” he corrects at the last minute. 
His father’s posture tenses a bit less when his son corrects his own grammar without prompt, but it doesn’t stop his cold eyes from floating over to you. “And you’re studying what?”
“Chemistry, sir. I’m helping Isaac, and he’s helping me with French.”
“And you know French well enough to help her?”
“I believe I do,” he says, trying to sound confident. 
“I think he does, too. In class, he always has the answers, and Mrs. Morrell’s often impressed, and she’s hard to impress more than once.”
“Hm.” His dad takes a sip from a glass, then carefully sets it down on the table. His eyes are locked on Isaac the whole time. The boy stares at the ground, any confidence shaken by the interaction. You study the scene, confused. “Well… Go study. Bring up those grades.”
“Yes, sir,” you reply at the same time. 
Isaac nods for you to follow him to his room, which you oblige. His dad remains seated as you make your way up the stairs. You bite back a comment about the man, even in the safety of Isaac’s bedroom, and he doesn’t say anything, either. The same remark is in both your heads, yet while you want to ask it in a question, he wants to use it as a reassurance. Yes, he’s a bit more controlling than Isaac originally said. No, he won’t do anything stupid while you're there. He tries to convey this in an expression, which you half-understand, but eventually drop it. If anything happens, you’ll leave. Simple as that. 
As it turns out, the first night of you studying together ends up nothing like the initial interaction you had in his house. Isaac is gentle, patient, and willing to learn and teach the best that he can. He’s admittedly worse in chemistry than you are in French, but you’re able to convince him that you only need to work on a few things; an hour of time doesn’t have to be devoted to your studies, maybe only twenty minutes. On the contrary, the other sixty are put towards chemistry. And, of course, the first five are for settling in, and the last five are for uncontrollable laughter at a mispronunciation. 
Thirty minutes to nine, you realize how late it’s gotten and start to pack your things. Isaac looks exhausted, and frankly, as much as you’re enjoying his company, you’re getting tired from talking. 
“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He asks, rather quickly. 
You stare for a moment, then, “what?”
“Vendredi.”
“Thursday?”
“Non.”
“Friday?”
“Oui, rencontrer?”
“Meet then?”
“Yeah, would you like to?”
“Sure.” You nod. “Say it again?”
“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He says it slower this time. It has the same effect on you, but you can comprehend each word better. 
“Cool,” you say, not at all thinking about his accent that paints the words so beautifully. “I’ll bring my H2O, since I forgot it this time.”
The boy snorts with more laughter. “Bad joke.”
“Absolutely horrible,” you agree. “See you in school tomorrow.”
“Drive safe.”
“Be safe,” you reply before you can stop yourself, referring to his dad downstairs. 
Isaac only nods. He walks you to his front door, then hurries back up to his room. 
~~~~
Each day you study together follows a similar routine to the first: five minutes to settle in, sixty of chemistry, twenty of French, then five of joking around with each other. Sometimes Isaac pushes for thirty of French instead, worried that you’re sacrificing your own studies for his, and never understands when you push back that you’re good with only twenty. 
His chemistry improves immensely with your help. In three weeks, he manages to pull it up to a ‘C’. Not only is his father a bit more lenient to him after the next progress report, but he’s also more pleasant to you the next time you come around to study. He even cracks a smile. 
Today, you go over just the same as you have been. Seven on the dot, you’re greeted by his dimpled smile and half-friendly father. The man has now graduated to welcoming you, and has once clapped you on the shoulder as you’ve passed. You’re polite to him, though you can tell Isaac’s uncomfortable with his unusual behavior, so you always try to retreat upstairs as soon as possible. This time, he’s busy with something in the kitchen and doesn’t talk for long. He makes one comment about grades; you promise him you’re both doing well, then he lets you go. 
Finally away, it doesn’t take long for you to settle down anymore. You make yourself comfortable on Isaac’s bed, pulling out your notes and pens, and smiling when he joins you. You’ve come to be good friends in the last couple weeks, and although there’s something definitely in the air, too, you’re good with being friends if that’s all you can convince yourselves you are. 
You start, per usual, with chemistry, reading over notes and figuring out problems. He moves closer and closer to you each day you teach, simultaneously making you nervous and excited. Either way, your water bottle remains beside you to calm your ever-growing heart rate. When it comes time to switch subjects, you excuse yourself a minute to recover and prepare for the next half hour. In the beginning, it was easier to hide your blush, promising you’re still getting the hang of the co-teaching thing. Now, your excuse dwindles. The shy smile you wear as he recites words of the love language has never faded. You have to compose yourself entirely, elsewhere, to be able to control your reaction and face him. 
“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”
“Yeah, just over there.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as the door shuts, Isaac jumps off the bed to check his hair in the mirror. In the process, your French binder falls to the ground and loses its page. The boy sighs, mutters an ‘oh shit,’ then pulls it back up to find the page again. He opens the flap and immediately finds a stash of old progress reports. You seem to keep all of your old ones in the front flap of your binder; he’s noticed you have all your chemistry reports, too. Curious, Isaac steals a peek. Despite confessing about his ‘D’ in chemistry, you’ve always cheekily refused to share your French grade. He doubts it’s that bad, but he’s never gotten you to admit it. 
He glances at the bathroom door, then checks the date on the report before scanning the grades. Guilt eats at him the longer he looks, but nosiness, then confusion keeps his eyes glued. Is he really reading that right? There’s no way you have a-
“Sorry about that,” you say, closing the door. 
Startled, he drops your binder and looks up at you. “It’s no worry.”
“What’s wrong?” You notice his change in behavior, like a young boy being caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. 
“Nothing. Your binder fell off the bed, I was picking it up.”
“Oh. Thanks.” He smiles when you join him back on the bed. You’re not sure if you still have a right to be suspicious, or if he’s just embarrassed because he’s so shy. “So, um-”
Isaac, on the other hand, is brimming with questions. As anxious as he is that you caught him peeking, he can’t help but wonder about what he saw. You start to speak, maybe to change the subject, but he cuts you off, guilt and curiosity both winning. “You have an ‘A’ in French?”
“What?”
“You’ve had an ‘A’ since the start of the year. Why do you need me to tutor you if you already know it?”
You shut your open mouth immediately, face paling at the realization you’ve been caught. “I-... I don’t know. Your grades are better than mine.”
“By one point.”
“Two points. You have a 94. I have a 92.”
“Doesn’t explain the need for a tutor,” he argues.
You study him, choosing to base your reaction off his own. He’s smiling; seemingly happy, curious, and not at all upset. His tone implies no accusation, just confusion, and his body posture is straight, shoulders relaxed. A twinkle shines in his baby blue eyes; his level of eye contact is neither constant nor avoidant. He’s safe. 
“I, um,” you decide to tell him the truth. Or, rather, stutter out the truth. “I don’t need a French tutor.”
“So I’ve gathered.” Decisive tone, yet still friendly. Still safe. 
“I figured, since I would help you with chemistry, even though I’m not that good of a teacher, if you had to teach me something too, it would put less pressure on me to be a good teacher.”
His eyes narrow. “Okay… but why French?” He’s still a little confused on that reasoning, but doesn’t question it. He knows you’re shy. If that’s what you had to do to make it work that you could help him, he doesn’t mind. 
“I, er, well, the French provided a win-win scenario.”
“Which is?”
You shrug, body warming quickly as you near your deeply guarded secret. “I- I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Mhm, really?”
“You’re best in French,” you offer instead, on a whim.
“True,” he agrees, “though I feel that’s not the real reason, judging by your lack of eye contact.”
“I’m always bad at eye contact.”
“You’ve been getting better with me these last few weeks.”
“Yes, but…”
“I’m not going to judge, Y/N. Whatever you say, it’s safe with me. You trust me, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then how is me teaching you French a, as you call it, win-win scenario?”
Finally, you fess, “because I get to hear you speak it every time you teach me.”
Isaac’s quiet for a moment. Then, you realize it seems to have gone over his head as he says, “you hear me speak all the time in class.”
“Yeah, but… with twenty other voices mixed in, too. I like hearing just your voice. The way you know just how to sound it out perfectly, and the way your accent flourishes each sentence. Most people in class sound like they’re gurgling saltwater, but you make it sound hot, like the way French is supposed to sound.” Your mouth utters words before your brain can catch up and prevent you from embarrassment. As soon as you realize what you’ve said, a dizziness swarms your head and it feels like the temperature’s gone up ten degrees. 
Isaac is speechless in front of you. He’s first stuck on the fact that you like his voice, then on his pronunciation being described as perfect, but then he short-circuits as the word ‘hot’ falls from your lips. He doesn’t even realize when you plant your face into your binder, shocked by your own confession. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. It’s muffled, but he hears it enough to pull him from his trance. 
“You like my voice?” He asks, cursing himself for the stupidity of the question. It’s all he can think of to say, though, still trying to cool his own rising body temperature. 
“I shouldn’t have said all that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” he blurts out quickly. “I’m actually quite charmed by that.”
You resist the urge to look up at him, desperate to see if he’s smiling or not. Isaac seems to have a similar thought, and tries to hook a finger under your chin to lift your head. He succeeds, but then you instantly embarrass again, and dive for the pillows, burying your face amongst them. 
“Oh no, get back here,” he jokes. You feel him before you look out to see him. His hands shake your shoulder, but when you don’t respond, he playfully starts to tickle your neck. You scrunch and try to scramble away, but he only continues. “C’mon.”
“I can’t!” The words have finally sunken into his head; the weight of them falls on your chest. 
“Oh, yes you can!” He teases more, moving pillows away from you, just for you to grab another and bury back under it. When Isaac realizes there’s no use in trying to win the pillow war, he swings a leg over yours and begins to tickle your stomach. Your shirt has begun to ride up from your movement, and temporarily, he forgets you’re classmates, not longtime best friends. “C’mon, give it up!”
“I-I can’t!” You’re running out of breath, and pillows. He pulls another away from you, then puts his hands back on your sides. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but only do you open them because of the unfamiliar feeling of him touching you. A beat skips in your heart at the sudden, unexpected realization that he’s not only touching your skin, but he’s also straddling your waist. You swallow hard. He pinches your side lightly, shocking you back into reality, and making you grab another pillow to hide your face again. Before you can grasp it, Isaac grabs your hands and pins them above your head. You pant, heart racing a mile a minute. His too, as you can hear in the moment you both grow quiet. 
“You think it’s hot when I speak French?”
“No, I think you’re hot when you speak French. There’s a difference.”
“Is there now?”
“The temperature of the room doesn’t get hot, it’s you that gets hot.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Not that you’re not always hot… I mean, sometimes, you’re more like a cute little puppy than a hot, French-speaking…” your words fade as your brain catches up, faster this time, yet still not fast enough. 
“Am I now?”
What’s done is done, you figure. Can’t take it back now, can only admit it. “Yeah.”
“Huh. So all this time, you’ve been teaching me chemistry, and I’ve been talking pointlessly while you listen and learn nothing?”
“When you word it like that, it sounds bad.” A pout graces your lips as guilt floods you. “But I have learned some things. I was struggling with direct objects, and now I’m not.”
“Ah. So I’m not totally useless?”
“Never. You wouldn’t be useless even if I knew perfect French.” Before he can reply, you continue. “I’m sorry I wasted your time. I shouldn’t have. Can you forgive me?”
“Forgive you for what? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I wasted your time when we could’ve been doing more chemistry.”
“Darling, too much chemistry and my brain woulda exploded. The French lessons are a nice intermission. Besides, I wouldn’t consider any time with you as time wasted.”
“Really?”
He drops your hands and they fall back down to your waist. He seems, then, to realize he’s still on top of you, and begins to climb off. “Sorry, I-”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Can I confess something else?”
He pauses. “Sure, anything.”
“I would’ve been okay with just tutoring you chemistry, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye long enough to do it well.”
“You’ve been doing great with the eye contact thing. I know it’s not your strong suit, but you’ve made a lot of progress these last couple weeks.”
“Thank you,” you smile. “It’s not only that.” A heartbeat passes. “I like you.”
“You like me?” His eyes narrow before he assumes only, “you like my voice.”
“No, I like you. I mean, yes, I like your voice, but I like it because I like you.”
“Like me, as in…”
“Like I have a crush on you.”
He tilts his head like a confused dog. “On me?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Why do you seem so surprised?”
“I’ve never had anyone have a crush on me before,” he admits.
Now you’re confused. “What?! How?!”
“I don’t know!”
“That’s stupid. Never had anyone admit it, maybe.”
“I’d never know.”
“Well I’ve had a crush on you since the seventh grade.”
“You moved to Beacon Hills in the seventh grade.”
“Exactly.”
“And you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?”
“Very secretly.”
“Huh. Well I’ve liked you since the first day of school,” he confesses.
“I’ve liked you since orientation, so I win.”
He smiles, then shakes his head playfully. “So I sit behind you in classes for years and only finally get the courage to talk to you when I’m borderline failing chemistry, and you only get the courage to talk to me for more than one minute if you can convince me to talk half of the time that we’d be studying together.”
“Sounds about right.”
“And my portion of the talking is in French, because you think my accent is hot?”
“Your accent is always hot; your French is hot on its own.”
“Ah, I’m following now.” He chuckles, letting his fingertips grace your hips. 
“So,” you ask, “as two people with several year long mutual crushes on each other, what do we do next?”
“Well you’re the one that’s been tutoring me chemistry, love, I’m hoping you have the answer.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wrong kind of chemistry, dork.” You reach your hands up to the sides of his face anyway, and pull him down for a kiss. Isaac complies immediately, setting one hand down beside you, while the other caresses your chin. Your legs hook around his waist, keeping him close until he starts to pull away, needing air. You let go, then hide your face as his own turns a rosy pink. 
“That was worth the wait,” he says, smiling, and touching a finger to his recently-kissed lips. “Êtes-vous d'accord?” 
“Shut up,” you tease, pushing him slightly. “Chemistry time.”
“We just had chemistry time. It’s French time now.”
“No, we can skip a round,” you insist, unsure you can hear anymore French fall from his lips without folding and kissing them again.
“On the contrary, I think you need to sharpen your vocabulary.”
“I think I’ll need a water break first.”
“That we can do,” he agrees. “I’ll make sure to get yours with extra ice.”
“Shush!”
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jojojoy1 · 1 year
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Are you doing Lando Norris story requests. If so can you do one where he is a dad and his child and girlfriend/wife come to watch him race for the first time and he wins with 01 💙😊
Daddy, you won! - Lando Norris
Lando Norris x reader
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You and Lando have been dating since you were fifteen years old. You two have been together through thick and thin. So when you found out you were pregnant at only twenty you both knew you could handle it together.
You gave birth to a beautiful baby boy in the November of 2020. Your pride and joy, you and Lando could not be happier.
You didn't want to have your son exposed to the race track too soon. Babies are delicate and as his mother, you are over protective. Lando always said, every weekend since Rowan had been born, that he should be at the races. And you always said no.
One week before the Australian Grand Prix and you were having the same conversation you and Lando have before every race.
"I think you and Rowan should come to Australia." Lando said as you both got into bed.
"I don't know, Lando." You sigh, "He's still so young."
"But it'd be nice. And it's not like he's ever gonna be alone. You can be protective mama bear."
"It's loud, we don't want to deafen him-"
Lando cut you off with a solution, "He can wear ear defenders."
"And fans. I don't want him to be scared or overwhelmed by the amount of people."
"You can take him straight to hospitality. Please y/n. You haven't been to a race in two years. It would mean so much to me." Lando interlocked your fingers as he spoke. You stared into his pleading eyes. Those eyes you always struggled to say no to.
"Fine," Lando smiled more then you knew possible, "We'll come to Australia." Lando cheered, wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a passionate kiss.
...
"Where's the sunscreen?" You panicked as you frantically emptied one of your suitcases.
"It's right here, babe." Lando said as he pulled a bottle out of the baby bag you had packed for the day. "Are you okay?" He asked, applying the sunscreen to Rowan's skin.
"I'm just nervous."
"There's nothing to be nervous about."
"What does nervous mean?" Rowan said.
"It means worried, baby." You answered.
"Why are you worried?"
"Because there's going to be lots of people today."
"Bluey will make you not worried." Rowan handed you his blue whale teddy, causing you and Lando to chuckle at the cuteness.
"You hold on to bluey, lovie." You handed Rowan back his whale.
...
The shock on everyone's faces when you walked into the paddock was priceless. You had told noone about you and Rowan attending the Grand Prix.
Even though Rowan could walk, you decided to carry him to ensure you didn't lose him.
"Y/n! Rowan!" A familiar Spanish accent yelled as the three of you walked to hospitality.
"Uncle Carlos!" Rowan screamed as Carlos approached.
"Hey buddy." Carlos put his hand out to fistbump the toddler. "What are you doing here?" He turned to you.
"Lando finally convinced me that it'd be safe." You smiled.
"Will we see you in the paddock more often, then?"
"If today goes okay. Maybe."
"Well, I'll see you all later." Carlos said as he patted Lando's shoulder.
"Yeah, bye mate." Lando said as Carlos walked away and you continued to McLaren.
...
You were sat in Lando's drivers room before the race.
"You should watch in the garage with everyone else. Then you can be the first ones I see when I get out the car."
"I don-" Before you could protest Lando interrupted, already knowing what you were gonna say.
"He's got ear defenders."
"Okay, we'll sit in the garage."
...
Rowan was so excited watching the race. Squealing anytime he saw an orange car on the screen.
You'd never seen Lando drive so well. He started the race in P13 and had managed to work his way up to P2.
Lando was right on Max's tail. A close fight for the win. The atmosphere in the McLaren garage was incredible. Noone expected the car to be capable of this. And with a possible win on the table? Everyone was so nervous.
For the last few laps, Lando had been making so many moves to overtake Max. Getting so close, but not close enough.
They were fighting right to the chequered flag. Just as Max was about to cross the line with another win under his belt, Lando came storming past. By mere inches Lando took home his first ever win.
The garage erupted into cheers. Everyone ran out to meet Lando at the podium. Holding on to Rowan, you made your way to the front of the barriers.
Lando parked his car in the first place spot, removed his helmet and immediately ran over to you and Rowan. Embracing you both. Kissing you on the lips.
"You did it." You said through the tears of joy, "You're a Grand Prix winner."
"Daddy, you won!" Rowan screamed over the cheers.
"Yeah, I did, baby." Lando said as he took Rowan from your arms for a hug.
...
You'd never felt so proud, seeing Lando on the highest step of the podium.
This win was something Lando has been working for his whole life and being able to celebrate it with the two most important people in his life made it even more special.
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leah-lover · 6 months
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My mommy. Alessia russo x daughter! reader.
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Reader is jealous of her mother's pregnancy.
You loved your mama. 
Obviously everybody loves their mom but with you it was different. You wanted to be on her, near her and in her eye sight at all times. When you would wake up she was the first thing you thought about, and you wanted her to be the last thing you saw before you closed your eyes. Alessia loved you too, she loved your clinginess, your smile, your strawberry like smell, and laughter. 
Today started out like any other day. You woke up, washed your face, took your stuffed bear and headed to your mommies’s room. They were still asleep, tangled up in one another. You stood up at the foot of the bed and jumped on their sleeping bodies. 
“Honey I told you to stop doing that.”said you mommy half asleep. 
“Come here bear, I still want to snuggle.” Said your mama, Alessia, opening her arms for you. You always looked up to these moments with you and your mommies tangled up in bed. 
“We love you so much baby bear, you know that right.?.” Said your mom. You worry in her voice but you didn't give it much attention. 
“I love you too mommy.” You add.
Your mommy gets up to go make breakfast and you stay in bed with your mama. 
“We have a surprise for you baby bear today.” She says with the biggest smile on her face. “ We are gonna spend the day together at the park just you mommy and me.”she adds. 
“But mama no training today, no football?.”you ask. 
“No care bear, just you mommy and me at the park. Let's go get dressed then.” she says before picking you up and taking you to your room. 
Today was the best day in your recent memory. Mommy, mama and you went to an amusement park, a real park where you and Alessia played football. You had lunch at your favorite place, went to the mall and bought some new toys and ice cream. It was a perfect day. When you came back home all of you were tired. And just when you thought the fun ended Alessia turned the TV on and put on your favorite movie and you had a family doing along. After one of your performances you looked at your mommies only to see Alessia's hand on your mommy's belly. You knew what that meant. Ight mean that mommy was pregnant and that a new sibling was china come and share your mommies with you. You then felt your chest rise and tears built up on your eyes. 
“No.” You yelled. “ No, brother. No sister, just me, mommy, mama, and footy.” You say before storming off to the stairs.
Your mothers didn't expect this huge of a reaction but they still ran after you. 
“ Baby bear please calm down deep breaths my love is okay.” cooed Alessia rubbing your back. You couldn't control what was inside of you and you didn't know what it was you just wanted to cry. 
“It's okay baby we are your mommies we love you we always will.” Said your mommy. 
“No, mama mine. Mine alone.” You say stomping you get on the ground. 
“I am yours baby. I will always be yours and I will always love you, play with you and hang out with you baby.” says Alessia trying to get you to calm down. 
“Baby Olive sleep on aunt Beth. Don't want brother to sleep on you. I sleep on you.” You say referring to Beth and Viv's new born baby. 
It was clear that jealousy was the reason behind your outburst. “But baby Olive is so young she still needs her mommy to help her to sleep. You will sleep next to us if you want to.” says your mommy. 
You busy your face on Alessia's neck crying even more. “I only have one baby bear in this world that I love and that you. It will always be you. I  promise. I will love both of you so much.” says Alessia rubbing your back and giving you kisses all over your face. 
“ Are you okay now buddy.”says your mommy. 
“Think so,”you reply.
“Okay lessi is gonna give you a bath while I prepared your bed is that okay.” She asks. 
“Please bear pjs mommy.” You demand which is granted as your mommy gives you a kiss and walks past you 
About an hour later you find yourself in bed with both your mommies reading you a story. 
“It's okay mommy. I can have a brother. You will love me the same.” You say and put your hands on your mommy's tummy. 
This gesture brought some much needed heart warming Emeryville in the room. 
“Yes we will.” Says Alessia tucking you in bed before giving you a kiss before heading out of your room to let you sleep.
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gojos-fr-bae · 6 months
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Daddy's Day
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader
Warnings: Heavy Heavy angst, cussing, dyuszcbjsuifk
Word Count: 884
A/N: Heyy, so I've been experiencing writer's block recently with Liar pt.7 so I decided to take a break & write this. Loving the Gojo family au. Also, this was ipired by something written by @zuffer-weird-girl (I love her writing so much, omd)
Hope you enjoy <3
(Requests open)
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Satoru had been away for the past week on a mission that had been meant to last two days.
He stepped into the house, expecting to be welcomed by you and your son Kaito at the door, but he was met by complete silence.
All the lights in the house were off except for the one in the living room and the kitchen. He walked into the living room and saw his son Kaito seated on the couch facing the tv which was playing whatever cartoon it was that he was obsessed with recently. He was in his dinosaur onesie and was hugging his monkey plushie tightly against his chest.
“Hey buddy!” Satoru said, walking to Kaito with his arms open,ready to give him a hug, but the seven-year-old looked up at his father with sadness coating his features before he got up and ran to his room, slamming the door behind himself.
To say Satoru was confused would be an understatement.
He slowly walked into the kitchen and saw you seated at the counter drinking whiskey…WHISKEY.
You only even drank whiskey when shit was getting deep, so now he knew for sure that something was wrong.
“Hey wifey, " he said in a soft voice, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, placing a kiss against your cheek.
“Mmm”is all you could respond to him, you didn’t even have the energy to respond to it.
“What’s up, and why is Kaito so upset?” he inquired, taking a seat next to you. You stared down at your drink ,swirling it slowly in your glass.
“Satoru, where have you been? Your mission was only meant to last two days.”
“Yeah, I know, but the mission ran a bit later and I also chose to stay back an extra two days after we finished just to make sure that there were no more curses left in the area.” he responded nervously, not sure where you were going with this. 
“So, yesterday, and today, you were away…by choice?” you questioned in disbelief.
“Y-yeah, um…why?” 
“Satoru, what promise did you make to your son? What day was it yesterday?”
He was so lost, he was trying to wrack his brain and remember wha- oh. Oh Fuck.
Oh no. No No NO NO NO NO NO!
How could he forget? How the fuck could he forget?! 
Yesterday, all the kids in Kaito’s class were meant to come to class with their dads, and Kaito asked Gojo if he would be able to make it, and he promised he would.
“Satoru, Kaito waited, and waited, and waited, and you didn’t show up. All the kids in his class started making fun of him, telling him that you didn’t even love him enough to show up. Satoru, he was crying for HOURS! And he hasn’t spoken to me, or anyone else the whole day. And you didn’t show up BECAUSE YOU FELT THAT DOING A JOB YOU WEREN'T EVEN ASKED TO DO! WHAT THE FUCK GOJO!?” You screamed, eyes tearing up as you lost your patience with your husband.
Shit. Words couldn’t even begin to cover how much Satoru HATED himself right now. He was actually an awful father. He was speechless. He couldn’t even move, and his breath was stuck in his throat.
“Please, go talk to  him, he needs it.” you said softly, patting his back softly, before making your way to bed.
Satoru could feel his eyes begin to sting as he was beating himself up. He could only imagine how Kaito must have felt. He had to go through all of that because of his stupid decision. 
He slowly made his way to his son’s room before knocking on the door gently.
“Kai, it’s daddy, please I come in.” he said softly.
No answer.
He opened the door and saw a sight that absolutely broke his heart. Kaito was sitting on his bead, with his back against the wall, facing the door. He had brought his knees up  to his chest and he was clutching his monkey plush as hard as his tiny fingers could. But his eyes were bloodshot and he had tears steadily flowing down his face as he sobbed softly.
“Buddy,” Satoru’s voice broke as the buy completely broke down and started wailing uncontrollably. 
Satoru ran to him and pulled him into his chest, hugging him tight, as he felt his own stray tears flow down his cheeks.
“I love you so much, buddy, and I’m so so so sorry.” He kept on apologizing over and over again, until Kaito had cried himself to sleep. He  slowly tucked Kaito into bed, before kissing his forehead and leaving the room.
He slowly dragged himself to your room, closed the door behind him before sliding down with his back against it. You looked at him and made your way to him as he broke down. He clutched you with his all as painful sobs racked his body.
He was beating himself up for being a horrible father and you tried to console him but nothing seemed to be working. He wanted to be a good father, and a good husband but he couldn’t even seem to do that. 
How was he meant to be the strongest when he felt so weak?
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Hope you enjoyed!
@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here
© gojos-fr-bae
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billthedrake · 7 months
Text
ACCOUNTABILITY (PART ONE)
Story idea generously provided by @talesfromunderthemattress.
Jim McCready didn't like starting his work day at 6:00, but he'd been dedicated to his CrossFit routine, and the flex schedule allowed him to carve out a couple of hours in the middle of the day. Besides, he realized he could bang out most of his work emails pretty quickly first thing in the day, as he had his coffee, without the distractions of the office or some "crucial" issue coming up.
He was in the middle of one of those emails when a light knock came from the direction of his office door.
His eldest son, Ryan, stood there, tall and bed-headed, wearing just a pair of gym shorts and one of his dad's beat-up hand-me-down Auburn fraternity T-shirts that had become his favorite. Ryan was a football jock, a senior in high school now, and Jim was impressed at how much his kid was filling out that old T.
"Hey Dad," Ry said, his voice still thick with his morning grogginess. Even Ryan's voice had gotten deeper over the last few months, a reminder to Jim that his boy would be off to college very soon.
Jim pushed his chair back. He was already in his business casual for the office, khakis, loafers, button-down, quarter-zip sweater, and the cross necklace barely visible beneath the unbuttoned top of his shirt.
"Hey buddy, what's up?" he asked. When he was younger he used to chastise any of his four kids when they interrupted him at work. But a church seminar on spiritually guided parenting made him shift his focus, to put family first.
Ryan got a shy grin. "I just wanted to be honest with you... and I guess you're gonna realize pretty soon, if you haven't already..."
Two and two clicked for the middle-aged father. "Oh," he said. "I take it you're talking about the app?"
The nervous smile got a lot more nervous. "Yes, sir," his son answered. "I had a weak moment this morning.... you know..." The football tight end shuffled on his feet a little.
His father wasn't exactly happy. He'd convinced Ryan to install the accountability app on his phone. Covenant Watch. It pinged Jim anytime Ryan looked at a porn site or material flagged as sexual. Jim had even set up the same, installing Covenant Watch on his phone. Becoming accountability buddies with his son in the goal of a purer lifestyle. James McCready believed in practicing what he preached.
He'd only received two pings from the app before. Once was a mis-coded site, not porn. The other was a slip up. He and Ryan had a heart-to-heart talk about it, about temptation. And then they prayed. That was four months ago.
Something felt different now, but Jim couldn't put his finger on it. "Anything you need to talk about, buddy?"
Ryan laughed. "No, sir, I'm good. I mean... I'll do better. I promise."
Jim nodded. He believed his son. Ryan was a good kid. Good student, great athlete, devout Christian, head of his FCA chapter at school. And yet, this was Ryan's second accountability slip up.
"All right," the dad replied. "And Ry... thanks for being honest with me, buddy."
Ryan nodded. Maybe more chastised than his easygoing teen demeanor let on. "That's what accountability buddies are for, right, Dad?" He gave his father a longer look, then said, "Well, I'll let you get back to work, sir."
***
It was three days later. Ryan had fifth period free as a study period, with an arrangement to help out Coach Mitchell. Today he was actually studying for his AP biology test while Coach did some paperwork.
The phone buzzed in his pocket. He almost expected it was his best friend Braden Whitmore, but the dude had already gotten detention once for using his phone during Mrs. Clemens class, and even a dumb jock like Whitmore knew not to be that stupid to tempt a second infraction.
It was a banner notification from Covenant Watch. James McCready, 8 flagged sites, 14 flagged pages.
Ryan's heart beat excitedly. As he pulled up the accountability report, his suspicions were confirmed. Dad was looking up the videos Ryan had jacked off to Monday morning. Figures he would, the football jock reasoned. That's what accountability was about. If he didn't want his Dad to know he was watching porn, Ryan knew he shouldn't watch the stuff to begin with.
But Ryan had only watched a couple of videos in his moment of hormonal weakness. It had been a really great stroke session. While the church didn't have a problem with masturbation, their teachings made pornography the forbidden fruit. Just watch those videos of young jocks fucking some hot college chick was enough to make Ryan's palm feel extra amazing.
His teen dick was boning up fast now, and he placed the Bio book on his lap to hide his hardon from Coach, who was engrossed his work anyway. Taking one good look to make sure it was OK to pull it up, Ryan scrolled through the full Convenant Accountability Report.
His father had first watched the ones Ryan had, but then continued to watch more of the Hot Guys Fuck videos on PornHub. Like five of them.
"Hey Coach," Ryan spoke up. "Mind if I find the restroom?" Mitchell wasn't as strict in study period as some teachers, but safer to ask.
"Yep, McCready... you know where it is."
Ryan tried to play it cool, but it was like he couldn't get to that men's room stall fast enough. He shut the door and took his perch on the toilet seat and unzipped. Ryan pulled out his phone and ear buds. Helpfully, Covenant Watch had a link to the offending site, so it took just seconds to pull it up. He almost wasn't even thinking that Dad would be aware he watched it. Ryan just needed to see.
It was a hot one all right. The dude was jacked in that collegiate jock way. HUGE dick, too, thick and veiny.
At times like this the football player was glad his father had left his foreskin intact. Slowly, Ryan worked his shaft with his bare fist as he watched part of one video, then another. Then another. All with the same model/star. Dad clearly was into this stud, and the idea made Ryan's balls twitch with excitement. His hunk of a father had undoubtedly jerked off to the very thing Ryan was watching now.... tugging at that nice long Dad cock, working out a heavy, manly load... And then in the middle of the video a second buff dude entered the scene and started tonguing the dude's balls along with the chick.
Ryan was coming, blasting hard. Cum splattered on the tile floor in front of him, and the rest dribbled down his first.
"Fuck!" he hissed then caught himself, glad no one else was in the restroom during the middle of fifth period. Hurriedly, he cleaned up and flushed the tissue paper down the toilet. The video was still running and Ryan was about to shut it off, when it occurred to him that his Dad would know he watched it. He knew he could in a pinch pass it off as being an accountability buddy, just seeing what Dad had clicked on. His Dad probably wasn't dumb, but it's not like his old man hadn't done that to him.
But, fuck, a part of Ryan didn't want to get off easy. He clicked on the "Bisexual" tag and scrolled till he found a hot looking one. Then hit play. He didn't even need to let the whole thing run. He had to get back to Coach Mitchell's office pronto, anyway. But this would be enough. His Dad would know.
Ryan shut the video and stuffed his phone and earbuds back in his pocket. He washed up and made his way back. Now he was trying to play it cool in a different way, trying to calm his breathing and hoping that he hadn't totally fucked up.
***
Jim could barely look Ryan in the eye that evening. The father could not believe he'd been so incredibly weak that afternoon, but it had been a slow day at the office, and just, well... he was horny as fuck. He'd actually jerked off on Tuesday just looking at the names of the websites Ryan had watched. That's before the guilt had sunk in. He should be leading his son away from sin, in Christian stewardship.
Then that afternoon guilt gave way to horniness. He'd watched more. And not even thirty minutes later, Covenant Watch was sending its accountability report.
The thing that had caught him off guard now was that Ryan was doing his best to act cool. Jim knew his son was nervous as fuck, as nervous as he was, but every body language signal his son sent out over dinner or as he helped his Dad cleanup and do dishes was "it's cool, Dad."
The tension was still thick as they were alone in the kitchen. Ryan broke the spell, leaning in to whisper, "You mad at me, Dad?"
Jim shook his head. For all the emotions he was feeling he wasn't upset at Ryan. He had to wonder why he wasn't. "No..." he replied back in an equally soft whisper. "It's just we shouldn't have done it."
Ryan gave a grin, though it was more of a supportive one than a cocky one. Jim never felt as much as he did now that his eldest was all grown up, 18, fully sexual. "I know, Dad... it's just... knowing you were looking at those sites, too..." He didn't finish his thoughts be he didn't have to.
"Not my proudest moment," Jim said. "This stays between us?" He KNEW he shouldn't be asking his son to cover for his own shortcomings as a man and a father. Accountability had become conspiracy. But he also knew he didn't want Kelly knowing what he'd done. He'd rather lose face with Ryan than that.
"Course, Dad," Ryan said. "I guess that means I'm not grounded or anything..." OK, now that cocky smirk was there.
Jim had to laugh. "Nah, kiddo, you're not grounded."
The conversation had cleared the air a lot. Jim felt better, and as he got ready for bed that evening, he reflected that his own lack of conjugal connection with his wife had put him in the mindset where he'd stray. Not that he was blaming Kelly for any of his shortcomings. But the idea of the no-porn pledge was to channel his male desires into marriage.
But Kelly rebuffed his attempt to initiate sex that night. Any other night, it would have felt normal. Marriage was a partnership and both people had to want sex. That night, though, it was like Jim McCready was looking for a lifeline. Looking for his wife to save him from more debased desires.
Those desires came hard and heavy, as the father tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. They continued even as he finally entered his deep REM sleep. And they were there when he woke up at 5 in the morning, rock hard as he'd ever been.
Jim lay awake thinking about the bisexual scene and how he wanted to watch more... how he got excited by the two guys kissing, or one dude sucking the other one. This wasn't the first time in his life that he'd had gay fantasies, but they seemed surprisingly strong now.
He looked over the clock. Earlier than he got up, but not too early, he decided. He slipped out of the bed and found some sweats to put on. He went to start the pot of coffee and then made his way to his home office and shut the door.
Last night everything had seemed clear in his head. He'd implied to Ryan that they'd stop this escalation. Only this morning, he was horny as fuck. Moreover, the more he replayed last night's conversation with Ry, the last he was convinced that his son saw it as a stop to things.
Already, Jim was pulling up Pornhub on his phone. With his heart beating, he clicked on the "Straight" selection on top and changed it to "Gay." The algorithm did the rest. The page filled with thumbnails of hot, muscled collegiate-jock looking guys. Handsome, clean-cut. Jim turned down the volume on the phone and pressed play for one...
***
Ryan woke up and when he looked at his phone there was a Convenant Watch notification. 27 forbidden sites accessed.
"Dad, you naughty fucker," he said aloud as he sat up in bed and looked at the full report. Already he was pulling down his briefs and taking his morning wood in hand.
***
Jim was a little disappointed that Ryan only watched one of the videos. Then he started getting freaked out. Maybe the gay video was a step too far. They'd shared some bi-ones, but this was different. As he got dressed for work after showering, his whole body shook. What if Ryan wasn't gonna keep this between them? If his son told anyone, Jim was royally and truly fucked.
But as he walked into the kitchen, everything was normal. His family was there eating breakfast. Ryan had gone through a phase of skipping breakfast or maybe just grabbing a breakfast bar, but now he was working out a lot and had football, and the kid now was eating nonstop.
"Morning, Dad," his daughter Olivia said as Jim came in and poured his second cup of coffee for the morning.
"Hey Princess," he winked, then Kelly greeted him, but mostly laid out the plan for shuttling the kids from practice that afternoon. Her bossy planning mode used to annoy the hell out of Jim, but now he appreciated how his wife kept it all running. They had four amazing children, who were growing up fast.
Some faster than others, Jim thought with a gulp as he looked over at Ryan, scarfing down eggs, sausage, and toast. At least the kid wasn't giving him the silent treatment or even seemed bothered.
It out the door time, now. Kelly took the two youngest, Sara and Mitchell, while Ryan would drive Olivia to the high school they both attended. Jim went to his office to retrieve his hard drive and papers to take in. He took one final check around to make sure he'd cleaned up the cum from earlier. It had been a big load, for sure.
He heard a knock.
"Hey Dad." It was Ryan's voice. Quiet, almost as his son stepped in and shut the door softly behind him. "Just wanna say, sir, you have good taste." Ryan had his normal polite kid demeanor, but that smirk coming back.
That caught Jim off guard. Ry's words but more than that his nonchalant approach. "Yeah, buddy?"
Ryan nodded, like he was getting turned on a little just talking to his father like this. "Oh yeah... I mean, I couldn't make it through one before losing it." His eyes locked with Jim's for a second. It turned the father on, and yet he also felt the earth was opening beneath him. Swallowing him to Hell. "Anyway... catch you later."
"Yeah," Jim croaked in reply. Mad that he couldn't be the responsible dad. Mad that he was letting his libido drive things. "Have a good day, son."
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jazminrhode1 · 1 month
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can you please please do a fic where they are on the podcast and they have matt or chris' gf on the podcast and they talk about their relationship and it's really cute and the guy is just so in lvoe? omg please i need this haha
Forever Be Your Always Matt Sturniolo x Reader One Shot
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“Good morning, campers. Welcome back to the cut the camera podcast,” Nick feigned enthusiasm, “can you believe we’re still doing this?”
You sat in Matt’s regular spot, kind of nervous and kind of excited.
You never did this. You never got involved with the triplet’s content. Matt had filmed countless vlogs for his personal channel with you that he never posted. Not because he was embarrassed or wanted to hide your relationship but, because he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.
The fans were fine. They had no choice but to be fine. You and Matt had been dating since before they started YouTube. You were in more of their videos in the early days but, you kept out of it these days.
Nick was the one who suggested you come on the podcast. He was sick of editing you out of content. Chris was the one who said they should take a stand and let fans know that they weren’t going to ignore the hate that you get online anymore.
It didn’t really bother you. Not matter what anyone said, Matt was still your boyfriend, Nick and Chris were still some of your best friends.
“Today we’re here with a very special guest,” Nick gestured to Matt to finish the intro.
“It’s y/n” Matt announced as Chris and Nick cheers.
“Thanks, you guys,” you laughed. This felt more natural than you had expected. After a while you forgot that the microphones were even there.
You answer questions that Matt had answered a million times before. Where did you meet? How long have you been dating? What is your favorite thing about each other?
Chris claimed that he got the two of you together and, to be honest, you couldn’t remember if that was true. All you knew was that you were thankful for Matt everyday.
“Okay, fans want to know what it’s like dating the grumpiest motherfucker on the planet,” Nick asked.
You rolled your eyes.
“Matt is not that grumpy. Really, he’s not. You just get so animated for the vlogs, and sometimes you do too much - I don’t think he likes that,” you answered. Nick pretended to take offence but, you two had never been anything but honest with eachother. And, you knew that Nick’s energy is was a hgue part of why they had been so successful.
“Another fan wanted to know if this is the kind of relationship that your younger self would have pictured,” Chris asked.
“That’s a great question,” you said and the boys agreed.
“I mean, we’ve known each other for so long. Almost all of my memories have one of you in them. Like, our moms are so close, our Dad’s golf together, my Uncle was just at your Grandma’s house doing some electrical stuff. You know, we’ve vacationed together. There’s just so much shared history even before we started dating. I don’t know that a lot of people can say that they met their partner at 5 years old and started dating 10 years later. That doesn’t answer your question.” 
You thought it over for a moment.
“I think when I was younger, I thought that someone would come along and sweep me off my feet. I didn’t think it would be my desk buddy from the second grade, you know?”
Matt just smiled. For him, he always knew.
“But, I could not have dreamt him up. I don’t think you could have convinced a younger me that I would get this lucky. That I would have found my person at 15 years old or that our families would become so entangles or that his brothers would become 2 of my best friends, you know”?
“Yeah,” Chris said. His eyes glistened.
“Another question was, do you feel like you missed out on anything since you started dating Matt at such a young age?” Nick asked.
“It’s a fair questions but, no. Even our parents when we graduated were like… are you sure you don’t want to live life separately for a little while, and that was just never on the cards for me.”
“And, Matt what about you? Do you feel like you missed out on anything?” Nick asked.
“No. I have gained more that I could have imagined from being with y/n,” he began. “I feel like I will go through my whole life as a triplet being understood by two other people in this unspoken, unexplainable way. And, in the best way, we were kind of forced together by nature and you are two of the closest people to me and, even if I don’t say it often, I love you guys and I wouldn’t be here with out.”
Chris and Nick exchanged a look. Matt wasn’t usually as forthcoming with his feelings if it wasn’t with you.
“In saying that, I don’t believe in soul mate or destiny because that implies that I don’t have a choice in this. Everyday, I wake up and I thank God that it’s next to y/n. And every day it’s the easiest choice to be with her. And every choice that I make, I consider her above anyone else.I don’t want a relationship, a marriage, a family if it wasn’t with y/n. There is no one else that understands me or supports me or loves me in the way that y/n does. You can’t put a price on that and you can’t manufacture it and if, for whatever reason, we were to break up I know that I will never find this again,” Matt said as he reached for you hand over the bench.
You saw a glint of sadness wash over Chris’ face. Nick was swooning.
“Do you think you guys will get married?” Nick asked. He was straying from the previously agreed up list of questions.
“One day. If there is one thing that y/n’s Dad told me is to enjoy every season. Enjoy being a kind, enjoy dating as teenagers, dating as young adults, don’t rush things because you’ll get to the end of your life and regret not really living in the moment,” Matt said.
“Your Dad’s so smart,” Chris said.
“Yeah, he and Matt are big on the motivational speeches,” you joked.
You answered a few more questions about future plans and Matt’s unpublished vlogs. Chris went on a non-sensical rant about not wanting a girlfriend while simultaneously wanting a relationship that you and Matt had. You knew that he was only scared that the girl he dated would only want to be with him because of his job. You knew that would break his heart.
As they wrapped up and you crawled out from behind the desk, Matt wrapped you in a hug and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.
Without saying a word, you knew how deeply he loved. Everything is better with him and he will forever be your always.
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