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daisynik7 · 4 months

Text

Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie

Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky. “Told you, didn’t I?”

Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.

You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center.

Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”

Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching.

Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall.

The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral.

“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.

Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.”

They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.

Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror.

You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.

Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”

Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming.

Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”

As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit.

“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting.

Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog.

“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it.

You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"

He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”

You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."

You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"

He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."

You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued.

~~~

After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?

You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”

Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.

He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”

He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”

He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”

“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching.

“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”

“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”

He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”

He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you.

“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”

You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation.

“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs.

“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.

“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?”

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you.

With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.

You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state.

“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”

You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.

He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.

As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”

It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you.

“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.

He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb.

He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.

And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer.

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo jjk #todo smut #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #to all the boys who live next door #todo x you

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ickadori · 5 months

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hi i’m going feral over the dynamic w uraume, reader, and sukuna. uraume hating reader but they can’t lie and say the way she looks at now BOTH sukuna and uraume as if he were the night sky but they were thd stars in it… still, they say they don’t like her at all! annoying as she is.

even if she’s left alone with them while sukuna is out. and especially if she’s needy and wow sukuna isn’t here to fix it. ugh, uraume HATES her. totally for sure, no lie at all.

sorry it’s just such an AWOOOOBARKBARKHOOWWWLL dynamic </3

[cws] fem reader. brief mention of sukuna treating his workers poorly lmao. poly. this mainly focuses on uraume/reader.

Uraume hates you, sparingly.

There are days where they grow so annoyed by you that they fear they may have to bind their hands to keep from squeezing at your throat. But there are also days where they find their interest mildly piqued by you, and can therefore tolerate you more than usual — today is one of those days.

They stand quite a distance away as they watch you cling onto Sukuna, your face twisted into one of despair as you beg him not to make you leave (ever the drama queen). He pays you no mind, one arm keeping you from falling over yourself while the other three pack your clothes away into a trunk.

“Ryo, I don’t want to go!” Ryo. Tuh. The first time you had uttered that shortening of his name, Uraume had prepared themself to finally see you be disciplined. It was terrible enough that you referred to him as just Sukuna, but to forego that as well and address him by such a casual title?

They had been sure that you’d be sporting a bruised face for a few days, or perhaps cradling a broken limb if the master was feeling particularly slighted, but instead, Lord Sukuna had only regarded you with low, hooded eyes and a ghost of a smile.

“Your wants are of no concern to me.” Sukuna says, and Uraume vividly remembers him asking them just the other day if you ‘wanted’ for anything.

Uraume was woken by a dark presence weighing heavy on their chest, and their eyes quickly open to see Sukuna looming over them, his own eyes narrowed into slits.

“Yes, my Lord?” There’s a slight waver in their voice.

“That woman…does she want for anything?” Uraume glances to the large, open window in their room, the sun still hidden away, and then slowly turns back to the curse.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“The date of her birth is approaching.” Uraume has enough sense not to gape. The King of Curses planning on getting a birthday gift for a human of all things — how absurd! “She claims not to want anything, but you know how women are.”

Uraume blinks at the pensive look that suddenly takes over his face, one hand raising to rub at his chin. After a beat of silence, Sukuna focuses his gaze back on Uraume.

“If you have no use for your tongue, then I’ll gladly take it.”

“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna, I was just recalling what she had mentioned in passing the other day.” He silently urges them to continue. “She frequently reminisces about the fountain in her village and how she wishes she could visit it again - I assume it holds some sort of sentimental value in it.”

Both parties are well aware that the fountain has long since been destroyed; the stone holding it together having been smashed the night Sukuna single-handedly pillaged the small village, and the water, once so crystal clear your face could be reflected in it, had been stained a deep, dark red with the blood of your friends and family.

“Shit.” Sukuna seems a touch distressed, and Uraume balks. It earns them a stinging on their chest, their sleep clothes staining red before their skin quickly heals itself. “Fix your face.”

“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna.”

He ponders for a moment. “I’ll have a fountain erected in the courtyard. I’ll send her away while it’s being built - you’ll accompany her.”

Shit.

Construction was set to start today, hence why you were being driven out of the palace, and Uraume had been tasked with taking you away to a neighboring village until the fountain was completed.

Before, Uraume would have been ashamed of themself for seemingly falling so low in Sukuna’s graces that they had been demoted to a mere pet sitter, but the Lord saw you as so much more. He trusted no one with you, and had killed plenty a servants for so much as letting their gaze linger on you a bit too long, but here he was trusting you, arguably his most prized possession, in their care.

It spoke volumes of how much trust Sukuna put into them, hence Uraume’s agreeable mood.

“You’re sending me off to my death, aren’t you?” You blanche, eyes darting between the two people in your room, and Uraume gives nothing away as they watch you with a neutral expression. “They’re going to cook me, aren’t they?” You let out a harrowing moan, even going so far as to drop your head into your hands, and Sukuna regards you with a painfully patient look.

“You would have done well in the story telling business - you’re highly dramatic.” You go limp, one of Sukuna’s arms quickly snatching you up, and another one comes down to snag ahold of your chin and turn your face up to him, large fingers squishing your cheeks together. “Enough with the theatrics, woman. You’re not being killed just yet.”

“Just yet?”

“The two of you are going on a trip. It’ll be no longer than two weeks.”

“A trip to where? The afterli—!” Sukuna spins you out of his arms, and Uraume acts quickly, their own arms shooting out to steady you. “Ryomen!”

“You may leave, Uraume.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Uraume had been attempting to pacify you ever since the two of you had finally reached your designation: an inn a bit of ways into the countryside.

You had annoyingly cried a good ways of the journey over, only stopping when you had fallen asleep on Uraume’s shoulder, and when you had awoken, you had stayed quiet as you sulked to yourself.

Dramatic.

The two of you were now in the bath, Uraume’s hand gently moving the soapy cloth up and down the expanse of your back. You were still quiet, something completely uncharacteristic of your usual self. Even when Sukuna left the palace for weeks at a time you didn’t act like this. Perhaps you really did believe that he sent you away to be killed…

A part of them wanted to pick at you for their own amusement, but another part of them was slightly…worried. A very minuscule part. A displeased you would inevitably lead to a displeased Sukuna, and Uraume simply refused to let that happen.

“Lord Sukuna’s business will likely be finished before two weeks.” Knowing his master, the man would ensure the workers hands didn’t stop moving until their fingers were worked to the bone - the project would surely take no longer than a week, at the latest.

You give no indication to having heard them, and Uraume rinses the soap from your skin, silently acknowledging just how soft and supple the flesh is. “Have you decided what you’ll have for dinner?”

“You mean my last meal?” You quip, and Uraume grasps the wooden bucket filled with water at their feet. “You have some nerve, Uraume. Bathing me and plumping me up before you drive the knife in. Just know that—ah!” You splutter as a wave of water comes crashing down against your head, and they reach around you to dab at your eyes with a dry cloth.

“I think a hearty soup would do you well. I noticed that your voice sounds a bit scratchier than usual. I suspect you’ll come down with a cold in a few days.” Uraume turns you so you’re facing them, and they pause when they notice the tears gathering in your eyes.

“Did he grow bored of me?” Your voice cracks, and Uraume tilts their head. Humans and their needless worries.

“You are a very silly girl.” You sniff. “We both know very well what has become of the people that bored Lord Sukuna.” Their hands move on instinct, thumbs flicking away the tears that slipped free. “Do you really believe that I would be treating you so kindly if my master had signed off on your death?”

“You dumped water on my head.”

“Lukewarm water. It could have been boiling.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy sound, and Uraume isn’t pleased to admit that they can see the appeal that Sukuna sees in you.

“Let’s quickly finish so you can eat.”

“Is it any better?” Uraume questions, careful of their strength as they push their fingers into the plush flesh of your waist. You had found yourself tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, and once questioned, you had complained about a stiffness in your shoulders and lower back, prompting them to undo your robe and attempt to work the kinks out…kinks that they had yet to find.

“Mm-nn,” you sigh, cheek resting on the pillow as your lashes flutter, and they add a bit more pressure, oiled hands sliding up the sides of your waist, fingers brushing against the sides of your breasts, before they’re pushing down between your shoulder blades. “It’s…it’s lower now.”

“Lower?” They let their hands slip further down, thumbs pushing into your lower back and moving in wide, slow circles. They can feel you wiggling underneath them from where they straddle your bare behind, and Uraume focuses their ministrations in that area. “I suppose you are a bit tense - is this better?”

“L-Lower.”

Their brows furrow as they shuffle back so they’re sat atop the backs of your thighs, only for understanding to settle on their features at the slick sheen between your inner thighs. Uraume hums, a single finger moving to trace down your slit. You gasp, butt jutting out, and they tsk with a shake of their head.

“What a roundabout way to say you want me to pleasure you.” You hide your face into the blankets, and they allow their finger to push past wet, puffy lips to get to your clit. “Lord Sukuna instructed me to give you everything that you desired, and if sex is what you desire from me, then you will have it. There’s no need to beat around the bush.”

After Sukuna had first demanded that Uraume ‘teach you how to take him’, he had also given them the task of satisfying you whenever he was not around. You had only come to them twice so far - once at the end of your monthly cycle, a time where you could frequently be found moaning in Sukuna’s lap and pawing at his chest, and twice when Sukuna had ‘punished’ you by refusing to mate with you, forcing you to come to Uraume as a last, desperate resort.

You don’t answer them with words but moans, short breathless sounds that leave you with every swipe of their finger against your clit. Their free hand moves to a plump cheek, and they spread you open, eyes taking in the way your drooling hole clenches around nothing and oozes slick.

Their finger moves from your clit to your hole, and they add in another finger before slowly pushing in, silently marveling at the way your walls greedily suck them in, a low squelch sounding as your arousal bubbles up around the digits.

“Uraume,” you gasp, voice heavy with desire, and there’s a stirring in their groin that they pointedly ignore. They pull their fingers back until they slip out of you and spread them apart, your slick webbing between the two digits, and then they’re plunging them right back in. “Uraume!”

“Does this please you?” Their voice is breathier, heavier, and your ass ripples with the force from their hand hitting against you. “Or would you prefer something else? Perhaps my mouth?”

You moan out something indiscernible, but Uraume decides to take it as an enthusiastic yes, a decision that they refuse to dwell on as they push your thighs apart and lay on their stomach in between them, thumbs keeping your lips spread as they lick a long stripe up your cunt.

You gasp and twitch, and they let you move as you see fit, simply adjusting their position to keep up with you. Their tongue flattens over your bud, nose nuzzled against your clenching hole, and the scent of you nearly overwhelms them.

They venture up a tad, tongue now thrusting into you, and the heat of your pussy is enough to make beads of sweat trickle down their nose to mix in with your essence. They push in deep, tongue rubbing against your walls and curling up before withdrawing, pools of your slick collected and messily gulped down.

Uraume now understands why they so frequently catch Sukuna with his head buried between your thighs, hands keeping you pinned as he feasts on your cunt. Their master has never once eaten a meal they’ve cooked for him with such hunger and passion, and Uraume hates to admit that nothing they make could ever amount to the taste of you.

Their hands move to lock around your hips, your movements preventing them from mouthing at you the way they desperately need to, and they pay no heed to the way you sob into the sheets, pussy tightening around their tongue as you come with a breathless shriek of their name.

You relax in their hold, and they let their tongue slip from inside you, the muscle once again parting your folds to give slow, gentle licks to your twitching clit. You weakly call their name, and they pull away from you with a wet, messy kiss to the sensitive bud, hands going back to massaging into your skin as they struggle to calm their racing pulse.

Your soft snores filter into their ears a few moments later, and they observe you as they’re smacked with a new revelation.

Uraume doesn’t hate you, not one bit.

#uraume x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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wooahaes · 13 days

Text

cake crumbles

pairing: non-idol!woozi x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au. some slight comfort.

warnings: anxious jihoon who just wants everything to go well. proposal mentions. food.

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: he :( <3

“Okay. We can fix this. It’s not too late.”

The only things holding Jihoon together right now was both Soonyoung and Vernon’s presence right now. But he hadn’t stopped staring at where your birthday cake had been dropped onto the floor, smashed into a mess of blue and white icing. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to clean up the mess in Soonyoung’s apartment. Soonyoung was on his knees now, tossing it into a bag to be disposed of properly once it was all done. It had all happened too quickly. One minute he’d been moving it to a different space on the counter, and the next he’d been lying on the floor, body aching from his slip, and the cake was destroyed. The little party he’d planned was hours away, and he’d ordered this cake specifically for you…

“I think grocery stores do plain buttercream cakes,” Vernon said, fingers covered in blue as he dropped another chunk of cake into the trash. “It’s not as special, but we can get them to write her name on it.”

“She likes those cakes,” Soonyoung nodded. “That’s what we did for my birthday last year.”

Right, but those weren’t made for you. Jihoon had gone out of his way to slowly figure out what you’d love the most. He sighed, and moved to get paper towels to wet and clean up the remaining icing. “I don’t know. I wanted to get her something special…”

Vernon looked up. “It’s just her birthday. I know she’s special, but—”

Immediately, Soonyoung started to smack his arm. He shook his head, and Vernon slowly connected the dots.

“Oh.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Dude—Today?”

Jihoon quietly nodded, then stopped. “I mean—Not technically?” He sighed, leaning back. “I was going to ask her when we went home. It’ll be after midnight, so it’d be tomorrow, and—”

Vernon nodded. “Alright. Look,” he pushed himself off the floor. “I know some people. Maybe one of ‘em could help do us a favor.”

Something inside of him seemed to crumple like tissue paper at how easily Vernon seemed to take charge right now. That should be what he was doing. You were his girlfriend, his love, and yet he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the spiralling thoughts that he’d fucked this all up. He knew what you would say now, though: that it was fine. That you didn’t need a birthday cake to be happy. But today needed to be perfect for you. You treated him with so much kindness, always so gentle but clear with how much you loved him. Jihoon wasn’t always the loudest with how much he loved the people in his life, but he hoped that his love was clear, too. This was supposed to be part of his big gesture, the thing that screamed to the skyline that he loved you wholeheartedly. The other part was the box still tucked away in his pants pocket, even now. He carried it with him most days, just in case he ever felt the inclination to forego his plans…

Maybe he should have. Then he wouldn’t be so stressed right now making sure everything went right.

Vernon had already stepped away, calling someone to see what they could do on such short notice. Soonyoung, on the other hand, had helped him wipe up the remaining icing. The floor needed to be mopped soon anyway, and then the scene of the crime would be entirely taken care of. By the time it was all taken care of, Vernon already had a name and a place to go—which led to Soonyoung pushing Jihoon toward him, saying he could handle setting up the rest.

He’d described as basic a cake as he could: vanilla, decorated with buttercream in blue and white, with maybe some flowers on it if the baker could swing it. All it needed to say was ‘Happy birthday’ and your name. The easiest thing that they could make, he would accept as long as it tasted good. With the order placed and a time given to pick it up, Jihoon stepped back out onto the street with Vernon at his heels.

“So…” He’d soon fallen into step beside him. “It’s not just about the cake, is it?”

Jihoon slowly nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. Anything to look more casual instead of the nervous storm he was inside. “If I don’t make it right… Then I’m going to feel like I failed her.”

“You could literally show up with just a thing of Oreos and she’ll love you.” Vernon looked over. “It’s fine to be nervous, but I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could upset her.”

“I know, but…”

Vernon bumped into him, just to get his attention back on him. “You two love each other a lot, dude. It’s gonna be alright.”

Jihoon could only hope that it would be.

Hours passed quicker than Jihoon expected them to. He and Vernon had returned to Soonyoung’s apartment and helped him set up for your little birthday party. Seungcheol had thankfully agreed to drive the cake over, careful as he could be, while Jihoon had to return home to you. He’d fed you this plan to go out for a movie and then dinner, hand hovering over his pocket. The box was right there. Maybe it’d be better for him to leave it somewhere safe here, but he felt better carrying it on him.

“Jihoony?” You had turned from where you were putting on an earring—one of the ones he bought you last year for Christmas. There’s a playful lift to your voice, smiling at him. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, making his way over to you. “Everything’s perfect,” he said. Yet the pit in his stomach didn’t seem to shrink at all. He had hoped that saying it aloud would do something, and yet…

You fastened the earring into place, and then reached forward to cup his face. “Jihoony.” You let out a long sigh. “I know.”

“You… know?”

“One,” you said, “Cheol accidentally let the party secret slip when I asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner. And two…” You shut your eyes for a moment. “Remember the other week when you came home exhausted from work? You changed, ate dinner, and then went straight to bed…”

Oh no. Oh no. He swore he had tucked the ring box into his bag after he drove home. “So, you…”

With a soft kiss against his lips, you leaned back. Your chapstick tasted like birthday cake, all too fitting for today. “Whenever you ask, I’m going to say yes.”

Jihoon met your eyes. “Even if it’s tonight?”

“Maybe wait until we’re alone,” you said, as if he hadn’t always planned for that. “But yes,” you giggled. “Tonight included.”

Jihoon reached for your hands, taking them into his own. The words already started to pour out of him before he could even think twice, “I dropped your birthday cake earlier. We got a replacement, but it isn’t the one I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.”

Instead of saying anything else, all you did was step back as you laughed. He’d fallen in love with your laugh long ago, but hearing it now he swore he was falling in love with the sound all over again. When you faced him again, you were smiling harder than before, even more radiant this time.

“As long as I get to enjoy it with you,” you said, “I’m going to be happy.”

All at once, his anxieties disappeared. He leaned in, lips brushing against yours for just a few seconds. He knew he would kiss you properly once the two of you were home again. But for now, he’d leave you with something fleeting, just to leave both of you wanting more. “Happy birthday,” he said for the second time today, hands resting at your waist. “I love you so much.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #woozi x you #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi reader insert #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x you #wooahaes.24

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gazorninplat · 2 months

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As much as I love Disco Elysium, I think I was not prepared for Sacred and Terrible Air. Of course, I was expecting to know more about the world of Elysium as a whole, and Robert Kurvitz is a very good writer, but the thesis of the novel (and how it makes its points) flash-banged me.

Disco Elysium this is not, and it wasn’t supposed to be, but I think I can understand better now what the team at ZA/UM was getting at with this specific setting, and these specific narrative angles. Kinda messy, because it’s been a week since I finished it, but here are some things I’d like to highlight:

1. The pedophilia. I surely wasn’t expecting this to be such a central theme of the novel, but a lot of its main points revolve around it. The most interesting use of this, as a narrative device, is how the girlfriend of Jesper basically accuses him of being a pedophile because he cannot relate to the adults around him. He’s still obsessed with a girl he met when he was 13 years old, and fetishizes a scrunchie he stole from her bag two decades ago. Yeah, I guess Jesper, well into his thirties, is still in love with a 13 year old girl. His girlfriend is almost half his age, and they started dating when she was 15 years old and a lingerie model (!). Zigi mentions how pedophilia was a bougie disease, and well… That idea went right into my thought cabinet (I call it “Bougie Babies for Sale).

Still processing it.

Now, let’s go back to the rest of the main characters. With all this in mind, a pedophilic overtone covers their interest in these four missing girls, but Jasper is the only one who acts on it, sort of. Khan remains in a sort of arrested development (he still uses a shirt he had when he was 13), foregoing normal adult relationships, and Tereesz joins the police as an investigator with the idea of still finding them some day (essentially letting these eternally prepubescent girls define his entire existence), leading him to a very dark path. I wonder if the brutality they afford to the “actual” pedophiles in the story (Vidkun Hird and the Linoleum Salesman) comes from the realization that they are not that different?

2. Obviously, though, this fetishization of the Lund sisters is also a fetishization of the past. The novel states it in the first few pages; they disappeared twenty years ago, in a time that most conservative people remember as the “good old days”. Basically their version of the American Fifties. Now, being obsessed with the past is a running theme in both SaTA and DE, but the angle here is different.

I already said it: the past is not remembered, is fetishized with an almost sexual yearning by a lot of the male characters of the book. They want to be consumed by it (and lucky them! It will) and do nothing more than serve it. It reminds me of a poem by Yamil Nardil Sadek, which, translated to the best of my ability, goes like:

She awaits me

sitting on the bed,

wearing leather,

and armed to the teeth,

the Memory.

Yeah, that sums up Sacred and Terrible Air pretty well. Everyone is being consumed by the past, bite by bite, and enjoying it. Vidkun Hird, by the mythologized version of his tribe’s history; Sarjan Ambartsumjan, by a miniature ship model that requires constant, devoted thought or else it will disappear, the three main characters by the memory of that summer with the Lund girls. Even the Linoleum Salesman is being haunted and consumed, of sorts, by his sickness and dementia that only sometimes let him take a peek of the past. Beyond that, there are very few characters that do not spend time being followed by relentless ghosts. Literally, in the case of Zigi. Which brings me to…

3. The Pale. It was a really cool concept in Disco Elysium, and it’s an existential nightmare in Sacred and Terrible Air. It always was, really. But here it lets you take a look into it in a way that’s applicable in real life. The Pale is a metaphor for many things, but actually for a single one: A world where our current Capitalist reality facilitates both apathy and yearning for better days, often idealized in our collective pasts.

My favorite scene, one that was incredibly puzzling but so obvious in retrospect, is a beautiful speech by the ghost (?) of Ignus Nilsen to Zigi. I will just paste it here:

“I said terrible things, yes! I stood on a white horse, in a blizzard, and gave speeches. In the mountains, on the construction site… I swung my sword, with silver sunbeams on the hilt. And all around me fluttered white flags, crests of crowned horns made with silver thread, a pentagon between the prongs of the horns, the branches raised to heaven. Everyone who came here with me became happy, Zigi! Communism is powerful! Believe in Communism, it’s a burst of enthusiasm! I promise! It’s beautiful when you believe in a person, but without it…!”

“Without it, there is nothing.”

“Nothing. It was a blizzard, but it was bright, it was morning. Communism is white, it sparkles! Communism is the morning, it is a jubilation!”

The Pale begins to recede dangerously around the entroponaut.

The fucking Pale recedes with talk of Communism! At first it might appear a little heavy handed (yeah, Communism, by itself, could save the world). But then I got into how Communism could be a solution to the antipathy and chronic nostalgia that sustain Capitalism, and then it hit me. Nilsen, a literal ghost from the past, is talking about a future that could have been. That he wanted to accomplish. That people, probably, can still achieve. The Pale is not eternal, it can be pushed back. Because the Pale seems to subsist on the past, it abhors any talk of the future. A better future. That’s how we solve things, and for a central thesis, is not bad at all.

With that being said, and because I’m just rambling here while pretending I’m working, there are also some things that I just didn’t understand, but maybe it was because of the translation. The original novel is written in a very poetic style, and some of that is still here, but I still need to untangle…

1. The Man. It is said that the day the Lund girls disappeared, they were joined by a mysterious Man that nobody seemed to remember correctly. A character even suspects that she was remembering wrong. Now, the Pale erases people and memories retroactively, so maybe it had something to do with it, but… Who was that? Is there any theory about that Man, or I just missed something? Some scenes and narrations were tough to parse for me (my primary language is not English).

2. Was Malin Lund pregnant? That flash with the fetus was sudden and weird.

3. What was the significance of the three meat piroshkis? They mention that it was unusual that the girls bought them (and if you do the math, you can realize early on that they were not planning to get back home. That purchase didn’t leave them enough money for the bus fare back), but that’s it. Were they for the Man? Also, the narration mentions that Lund girls’ picnic basket contained “the kind of things girls like to eat”, so maybe they were planning to see the boys and bring them the kind of things boys eat? I’m overthinking that? The chapter actually titled “Three Meat Piroshkis” just left me even more confused.

4. I don’t understand how Khan’s pen works at all. The one he brought to the school reunion. That was the part I re-read the most. Anyway, even with that, I loved Sacred and Terrible Air. Definitely one of the most enthralling reads I had, with or without the background of Disco Elysium. I’d still like an official translation that could potentially solve the issues I had, but for now, a Top 10 Book for me.

Go for it now.

#disco elysium #sacred and terrible air #robert kurvitz #literary analysis #random thoughts #book quotes

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thefandomlesbian · 6 months

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Thinking about House's infarction and recovery and based on the scar, I think he would have had a wound vac for a significant period of time.

(Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, this is conjecture for the sake of fandom, any misconceptions are my own.)

So this is House's scar, per the screen grab I can get off of Google.

In my opinion, the scar seems like it wasn't well-approximated at the time of closure, which makes sense; it's consistent with the idea that his leg was opened and necrotic tissue was debrided, leaving wide margins that couldn't be secured with sutures. (This is a guess; muscular infarctions are incredibly rare and I haven't found any information online on standard procedure for clearing necrotic muscle tissue surgically.) Combine with the fact that an infarction is a clotting issue that can interfere with circulation and perfusion, I think House may have been discharged with a wound vac.

A wound vac is an electronic negative pressure device that assists with wound closure for open wounds, ie the outermost layer of skin isn't sutured/stapled and underlying tissue is exposed. These devices are usually in place for a few weeks.

(This is a stock image I swiped from Google associated with a study on the efficacy of wound vac closures.)

Basically, the tubing hooks to a machine that provides suction for any drainage and helps everything remain clean, among other things. The dressing is generally changed every 48-72 hours and is pretty painful, the adhesives involved are strong to provide total suction (the machine will flag if there is any leak and start beeping, so it must be completely airtight). I've had it described to me as, "It feels like they're peeling your skin off and digging around in your wound."

So from pain alone, this is not something House would've been able to do well by himself. He also eschews nurses, so I find it most likely Wilson provided this care for him. As a surgeon, Wilson is well-acquainted with wound closure techniques and with stages of healing, this is his area of expertise. This is something that needs to be done every 2-3 days, for 3-4 weeks, maybe longer depending on how the wound healed.

Again, based on scarring, it looks like there may have been healing complications. Which, granted, it's House. We see him perform bathtub surgery with no sterile technique or gloves (he also might have had a wound vac for that, too). House attempting to perform his own dressing changes, or worse, foregoing them altogether because it's too painful, except now the suctioned drainage is green and the periwound is hot and bright red and his leg is starting to swell. He needs help, he can't do this himself.

Wilson wants to take him to the hospital to sedate him for debridement and provide IV antibiotics, but House won't go, he's afraid of losing his leg if he's anesthetized again, he'll sooner die of sepsis. Wilson, against his better judgment, does what he must. Clears the dead tissue, cleans the wound, replaces the wound vac dressing, new tubing and canister, all while House is biting a towel like a civil war soldier because he won't be anesthetized again. Wilson fills oral antibiotics to control the infection. Going forward, he religiously changes the dressing, because if the wound becomes gangrenous he knows House will die before he consents to an amputation.

We all discuss House relying on Wilson for mobility after the infarction, which I also think is true and deserves a spotlight. But wound care is such a personal act with regards to House's profession and personality that the notion of Wilson providing for House in this way has me salivating.

#house md #spencer speaks #hilson #house x wilson #tw wounds

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f1fantasys · 2 months

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Finally mine <3

Summary - Y/N and Charles started off as work colleagues, soon became friends, and now the continuous back and fourth continues between the two. Will you end up together? Of course you will.

Warnings: mild angst. 18+ smut. p in v. dirty talk. unprotected sex.

Being an F1 journalist had its highs and lows. The highs being that you could chose which races to work at and the fact that you had become friendly with most of the drivers, the lows being you were away from home a lot, and had become too friendly with one of the drivers.

Charles.

When you first started your job two years ago, he was one of the first drivers you were introduced to. His deep dimples and green eyes were what took you aback. He was friendly, kind, and hot. So hot. But you kept that fact to yourself. He became your friend first and foremost, as he had a girlfriend back then. You also became close friends with Lando, Carlos, George, and Alex, as well as their better halves (well, those who had a better half). You'd go on holidays together, go out clubbing together, celebrate birthdays. Everything.

It was no secret that Charles definitely felt something towards you, from the beginning, even if he had a girlfriend. He would send lingering glaces towards you, among other little things that gave you butterflies. But - he was with someone, and he wouldn't hurt her.

During the course of the two years, Charles had broken up with his girlfriend. You won't lie - your crush on Charles started pretty early in your friendship. But you too would never do anything to jeopardize his relationship. You were just content that you had him in your life. When he broke up with her, it seemed like you were the last of your friend group to know. That came as a surprise because Charles almost always told you everything first. You let it slide and tried not to read into it too much.

It's now been 3 months since the breakup and you won't hide the fact that you and Charles have definitely become closer. You haven't crossed any lines, yet, but you texted everyday and face-timed every other day. He also became a lot more touchy on nights out but you never backed away from him. He would often rest his hand on your thighs, or you'd end up grinding him on the dance floor.

Of course, Lando and George would always call you guys out, but the both of you always made a joke of it.

This week though, while spending a week in Ibiza, the sexual tension has reached new heights. He was always touching you. Whether it was resting a hand on your back while you were walking, arm at the back of your chair (of course you were always seated next to each other), rubbing sunscreen on your body - or you on his, stealing bites of food or sips of your drink. You never spent a minute away from each other.

Last night, or early this morning rather, after a boozy dinner, you'd all decided it was a good idea to jump into the jacuzi - at 2am. Being a small jacuzi, it meant not everyone would get a place to sit - and naturally that meant the girls all sat on their boyfriends lap. Lily had to forego this trip, but there was no way in hell you were going to sit on Alexs' lap. The next best choice - his.

He smirked as you took your place on him. You were sure he could sense your nervousness and flustered state. But at the same time, you were thanking the heavens. It felt so good, so good to feel his arms encircle your waist and pull you closer to himself. He played with the ends of your hair, while chatting to Lando, while you tried to keep up a conversation with Carmen. But really, all you could think about was the fact that your ass was sitting on his dick, and boy was he getting hard underneath you.

''Y/N, its been a while since you've hooked up with anyone. Maybe I should be your wing-woman tomorrow night as see who you can fuck. You seriously need it’

‘Oh my god Carmen’ you squealed as you immediately felt Charles tense under you.

To be fair, it has been a long while since you’d fucked anyone. You often pleasured yourself, thinking about a certain someone, more so in the last few weeks. You’d imagine what his lips felt like on yours. On your most private parts. What he would feel like in your mouth.

God, you really needed to get laid.

As you all stayed in the water, Charles’ hands found their way to your back, drawing circles and playing with the string of your bikini top. By now, it was just you, Charles, Lando and Luisa who were still out. Even with all the new space, you still kept your place on Charles lap. Your hands found his and you sat hand in hand drawing circles on each others palms.

It was nice, being this close to him. No tension. Just being in the moment.

As the Jacuzzi seats were a bit deep, both your shoulders were under the water. At one point, you felt him untie the strings of your bikini top.

Too shocked to say anything, and not wanting the break the moment, you went with the flow.

He was deep in conversation with Lando and you with Luisa. You felt his thumbs brush the under side of your boobs. It took everything in you to not take his hands and put them on top of your boobs.

He was playing you, and he enjoyed that you knew he was.

Some time later, he decided he was ‘tired’ and slowly lifted you off his lap, careful not to life you above the water so as to expose you, and got out the water himself and walked away, leaving you a little antsy.

By the time you woke up this morning, around 10am, it was a quick breakfast before the group had split up to do some sightseeing. You were to spend the day with George, Carmen, and obviously, him.

You’d taken a boat out and ended up by some beautiful waterfalls, all the while feeling his deep green eyes on you every minute of the way. You blushed when he caught you already staring at him, and tried not to think about how you relieved yourself after last nights activities once in the confinement of your own room. He played you dirty last night, and now it was your turn to give it back.

You made sure to wear your skimpiest and sexiest red bikini that barely held your boobs in place.

‘Hot mama’ Carmen all but screamed at you when you removed your sundress. You gave her a little shimmy and twirl around.

Charles hoped you wouldn’t notice him shift in his seat at the sight of you - but you did. And you sent a smirk his way.

‘Charlie, I need you to put some sunscreen on my back, please’ you fluttered your eyelashes at him as you laid down on your tummy on one of the sun beds.

‘Fucking hell’ you heard him mutter, more to himself.

For the second time in less than 24 hours, Charles untied your bikini top strings and applied sunscreen. He went as far low as he could, his finger brushing over your ass.

What was supposed to be a quick application, turned into something that lasted at least 15 minutes. By now George and Carmen were already in the water, so the two of you didn’t have an audience. Which was a good thing.

You felt Charles climb onto the sun bed and gently rest his ass a top of yours as he continued his application-turned massage. He bent down lower as he traces his fingers along your spine and you felt his hot breath fanning across your back.

You could already feel your core start to drip just by what he was doing to you.

Suddenly, he stopped. Got up. And jumped into the water. Leaving you breathless again. Leaving your hornier than ever. Again.

The afternoon was spent stealing glances at his naked torso while sunbathing, applying sunblock on him this time, and lingering touches here and there.

You were now back at our villa and getting ready to go out clubbing. You'd opted for sheer black mini dress that hugged your curves in all the right places.

''Y/N, what'' going on with you and Charles?'' Luisa asks. ''You've been dancing around each other for a long time now. Don't you think it's time to figure out what it is? There definitely is something pulling the two of you together, and for fucks sake- the sexual tension? It driving us mad! You need to jump him already!'' she continued.

The last bit made you blush.

''To be honest, I don't know what's holding us back. I mean, we are both single, and no denying there are some sort of feeling involved, from my side at least. I just don't want to give in, then find out he just wants me for the sex and then nothing at all.'' you ponder.

''I highly doubt he wants you for just sex, Y/N'' Carmen pipes in. ''He shows in awful lot of interest in everything about you. He's always making sure you're okay. And more than once he's foregone drinking when you're plastered, just to make sure you get home okay. Trust us, he definitely wants more than just sex.''

''I don't know. Lets see how it goes'' you ponder, more to yourself.

The night was going exceptionally well. You and Charles were glued by the hip for the most part. Drinks were flowing. Easy conversations about everything and nothing were had.

''You look really good tonight'' Charles whispered in your ear at one point.

''Thanks, I made an effort just for you Char'' you thought, but obviously didn't tell him. ''Thank you Char. You look quite good yourself'' you smiled at him.

You were all a few drinks in, Charles included, and he was getting handsy. The lighting was dark, so no one really knew what was going on between the two of you. Not that you and Charles knew either. Your hands were around his neck, pulling him close, taking in his scent, while his hands found their way to your ass. His face is nuzzled into your neck and he is slowly but barely leaving a trail with his lips.

You want to tell him you want more. You want nothing more than to feel his lips at full force, his tongue, on your neck. But you don't dare. Is one night of sex worth it? If that's what he is after, things surely would be awkward after, and you'd risk losing one of your best friends. You definitely were not ready to take that risk.

So after some time, you pushed yourself away from him and went to dance with Luisa.

As the night drew to a close, somebody, being Lando, decided it was a good idea to do some body shots. When it was your turn to lie down, Charles helped you onto the table, and of course the others chose him to do the shot off of you.

It was probably the large amount of alcohol in both your systems that gave you the confidence to go ahead with this. Luisa placed the shot of your belly button and Charles, not to subtly, licked a strip from very low down, up to your belly button and swooped the shot up, while everyone was cheering.

It felt amazing to finally feel his tongue, even if was wasn't exactly where you wanted to feel it. Needless to say, it was another night of fantasizing about him, getting yourself off. Little did you know that on the other side of your wall, Charles was doing the exact same thing. Jacking off to the obscene visions of you.

You were sad that the holiday with everyone had come to an end, but at the same time you just wanted to get home so you could properly sit down with yourself and think about what you want. You needed to tell Charles how you felt, but still was too scared to hear what he would say back to you. So, the time away would be a good thing just to refresh your mind and think things through.

You weren't going to the next two races, meaning you wouldn't see each other for a at least 3 and a half weeks. When it came to saying buy to him, your chest tightened.

''Going to miss you cherie'' he whispered as he hugged you tight.

That made you hold on to him for a little bit longer.

''I'll miss you too Char, good luck at the races.''

With that, he kissed your cheek and you parted ways.

Being away from him this time was hard with he obvious shift in you relationship-or friendship-you weren't sure. You face-timed a lot, just content to update each other with that you did that day, how his car was treating him. It was easy, just letting the conversations flow.

''Y/N, I'm flying back to Monaco after the race on Sunday night with Lando. It's Luisa's birthday so he is planning a dinner for her that night.''

''Yeah, I've actually been helping him plan it. I'm glad you'll be here too!'' you exclaimed excitedly.

''You have no idea how much I've missed you these past few weeks, amour''

The new nickname gave you goosebumps.

Luisa's birthday dinner finally came around. You were going to an luscious restaurant and had planned for clubbing at a VERY luxurious place in Monaco for the night.

You so desperately wanted to make an impression on Charles, so you chose to wear a white satin dress, holding your boobs up perfectly, and curled your hair into soft springs. You decided not to wear any panties-something you read about boosting your confidence-whatever, you just went with it.

Charles was due to pick up anytime now. You were getting nervous for sure. But you seriously wanted to try and talk to him today-see where his head it at.

Not a minute later than 6pm, he texted you saying he was waiting outside.

You grabbed your bag and walked towards his very new, and very sexy Ferrari.

He was waiting outside, as soon as you were within touching distance he pulled you in for a tight hug. Just holding you in place for longer than expected. Not that weren't enjoying it. He pulled back and kissed your cheeks.

The ride to the restaurant was filled with laughs and stories about how passionate the Australian fans were towards Charles. One of them even gifted him a bracelet that had 'daddy' written on it, and he was still wearing it, causing you to blush and give him a giggle. It was no surprise that his hand rested on your thigh for the whole ride.

The dinner was a lavish affair. Expensive wine and good food. Lando really went all out this time.

Straight after dinner, it was time to hit the club. More expensive drinks, more dancing. And more sexual tension. From the minute you started dancing with Charles it came crashing down on the two of you. This time though, his lips were actually on your neck. Peppering your skin with light kisses and the occasional suck and bite. Luckily the music was loud and the lights were low, so you could let out a moan that only Charles could hear. He smirked into your neck as his hands once again founds your ass and pulled you impossibly closer.

Your hands ended up in his hair, tangling and tugging at it and abruptly, he pulled away, looked at you in the eye, and said ''Do you wanna get out of here?''

With the way he was looking at you, air had long left your lungs and you couldn't talk. All you did was nod. And he grabbed your hand and made a beeline for the exit. As you were approaching his car, you quickly pulled back and stopped.

''Charles wait.''

He glared at you, waiting for you to continue.

''I don't just want a quick fuck, Charles. I want all of it. I want all of you.'' you all but whispered.

Then he smiled. A big, full on, dimples-showing, classic Charles Leclerc smile.

''In case I haven't mad it clear these past few months, amour, I want all of you too.''

His statement made the butterflies in your whole body go crazy. All you could do was smile at him.

He quickly took your hand again and when you finally made it to his car, you were glad it was dark out and in a secluded area. No one would see what the two of you were about to do.

He opened his door and jumped in, pushed his seat back, reclined it a little bit, and he pulled you onto his lap while shutting the door.

Finally, finally, hips lips touched yours. Not in a gentle and loving way. But in a harsh, dominating way, It was rough, and sloppy and messy but you finally felt like you could breathe again. His lips were so intoxicating. Not long after, your tongues wee battling one another. You opened up you mouth to his tongue and he quickly slipped it inside. Exploring your mouth like he was searching for gold.

All the while that was going on, his hands found home on your boobs. He almost ripped your dress open trying to free them. And once they were freed, his mouth left yours and found its way to your peaked pebbles.

''Fucking hell Y.N, you don't know how long I've waited to see you like this'' he murmured while he pinched one nipple between his thumb and index fingers and continued sucking and biting on the other.

''Char, we've waited far too long for this. Can't get enough of you'' you told him as your hands found their way back to his hair and you kissed and bit on his neck, leaving marks for sure.

Slowly, he lifted you up and pulled your dress up as well. His eyes widened at seeing you had forgone any panties.

''Cherie, is this all for me?'' he said as your juices were clearly leaking out of you.

''Fuck, only for you, Charles. Please.'' You didn't even know what you were begging for. But you just needed more of him.

His fingers quickly found your pussy and started rubbing circles on your clit. The moans you were letting out now were obscene. Grinding against his fingers, you begged him some more.

''What do you want Y/N?'' he smirked.

''Fuck Charles, no time for teasing. Please. Put them in me.''

And put them in you he did. He thrust two fingers in you at once.

''Merde, Y/N, so tight. How long has it been since you've been fucked?''

You could form no coherent thoughts, let alone talk. So he continued-

''Clearly some time ago. But i love that, Cherie. You've been waiting for me'' he said with a smirk.

It didn't take long for you to come crashing down. Your orgasm whisking through you while your whole body shook.

Charles didn't stop his fingers until you came once more.

''Charles,'' you choked out. ''Need you in me. Please.''

He unzipped his trousers and slipped his throbbing dick out of his boxers.

You took him into your hands and pumped a few times. He reached into his back pocket for what you saw was a condom. But you quickly shook your head at him.

''I'm clean Char, are you?'' you asked.

He nodded.

''Then I want to feel all of you'' you breathlessly said, getting impatient now.

He smiled and you placed yourself above him. Letting him run his dick through your folds and juices.

''Please, fuck me Char''

And immediately, he started gliding himself through your entrance as you sunk down onto him.

You both moaned in unison. You, at how large he was-fuck he was the biggest you've ever had-and him, at how tight your cunt was.

Once he entered you fully, he stayed still. He didn't want to rush and hurt you.

You also needed a few moment to adjust, when finally you told him he could move as you did as well to meet him half way.

Now the pain was fading and the pleasure was taking over.

''Y/N, so tight. Amour, you're taking me so well. So good. Letting me fuck into you like this. Riding me like this.''

To be honest, you'd never thought Charles would be one to talk dirty. But you aren't gonna complain. It's only turning you on even more.

''So big, Char'' you said in between moans, bouncing on him. ''Yes, fuck, yes.''

His mouth finds it way back to yours while his hands massaged your tits.

''Fuck Char I'm gonna cum''

''Oui. Cum Cherie, all over my dick, please''

You didn't need any more convincing. You came over his still hard cock. But that didn't slow his efforts, chasing down his own orgasm.

Your moans were getting out of hand now. You were sure people outside could hear you if they walked past the car.

''Char, people will hear us'' you tried to whisper.

''Let them. Let them hear how I'm making you feel. Let them hear you chose to ride me''

That statement very quickly bought on your fourth orgasm of the night.

2 minutes later, ''Fuck Y/N, where do you want my cum?'' he asked.

''In me, please.''

You definitely wanted to taste him at some point. But right now you needed to feel him fill you up.

Within seconds he release a warm splutter inside of you. His moans were the best sounds you've ever heard come out of his mouth.

You both slowed your motions. You slumped forward against him and just sat there. Catching your breath and your mind up to what just happened. You finally fucked Charles Leclerc. And it was the most amazing sex ever.

After a few moment you could feel Charles was softening inside of you. You moved to lift yourself up, but stopped you. He gently removed himself from your cunt and placed you back on his lap.

It's what he did next though, that left you speechless. He swiped his fingers along your folds, scooping up the mixture of cum, and brought his finger to your lips.

''Fuck me'' you squealed as you opened your mouth and took his finger in.

''I kinda just did'' he smirked as you licked his finger clean and pulled him in for a kiss.

A soft kiss this time. A loving one.

''We should get back inside'' you whispered. Although you'd much rather go home and go for round 2.

''It's going to be so hard to keep my hands off you now'' Charles said, kissing a strip up your neck.

''Just to say bye. Then let's go home''

''Fine'' and he pinched your ass.

You both had to make yourselves look presentable again. You combed your hands through your hair, as well as the mess you've made of his.

And you walked back into the club. Trying to keep the smirks off your faces.

''Y/N, where have you been?'' Carmen piped up.

''There's a hottie who's been eyeing you since we got here. You need to go talk to him.''

You rolled your eyes. '''No thanks, I'm good'' you said looking at Charles. That was probably a mistake because Carmen caught on right away.

''Oh. Ohhhh. Oh my god'' she squealed but before she could say anything further you pulled her into a corner and threatened her (not really) that she couldn't tell anyone. Not even George. She swore you to secrecy.

By the time you'd got back to the others, Charles had already told them you were tired and that he was going to take you home. By uber that is. He was in no state to actually drive, so he would get someone to fetch his car in the morning.

You said your round of goodbyes and you were soon standing on the sidewalk waiting for your uber. Now Charles couldn't keep his hands off of you. He was whispering sweet nothings in your ear and ticking you here and there.

''Can't wait to get you home and rip this dress off of you''

''Char, please.''

''Please what?'' he smirked.

''Stop. Until we get home'' you playfully pushed him away.

The ride to his apartment was eventful to say the least.

The driver recognized Charles and was a chatty one. Charles could barely keep up with the guys questions because now you were fumbling with his belt. You giggled as you eventually got his cock free and took him into your hands. You pumped him a few times until he stopped your movements and harshly whispered in your ear - ''If you want the night to end here, then carry on. If not, then let go. Because i can't hold on, Amour. You're doing the impossible to me. Let's get home then you can have your way with me'' he smirked at you in the dark.

You very quickly removed your hands. But as you did he cupped your face and brought you in for a long kiss. A proper make out. Tongues and all.

The driver then cleared his throat to tell you that you'd arrived at home. Charles apologized and made sure to leave a generous tip, before he all but carried you out the car and up the stairs to his building.

He unlocked the door and it was barely closed fully before he had you pinned against it. Actually ripping your dress off this time.

''Char! That was an expensive dress! And I've only worn it once!'' you exclaimed.

''And I'll buy you a new one. But I needed it off you as soon as possible'' he tried to justify.

''Please just come here'' you said, pulling him back to you for a heated kiss again.

''I need to taste you'' he said as he picked you up and carried you to his room.

He placed you on his bed, completely naked.

''You're still wearing too may clothes'' you made a pouty face at him.

''Patience, Cherie. First things first-'' he opened up your legs.

You should have felt conscious. He was staring at your most intimate parts. But you felt nothing but safe. You trusted him. And honestly, you'd been waiting for this day for too long.

He started kissing a trail from your knee to your sensitive bud. No teasing this time. He licked you folds - and that had you seeing stars. He continued licking and sucking and soon his tongue entered you. To say it felt good was an understatement.

''Fuck Charles. How are you so good at this'' you moaned between breaths.

He didn't answer you. All you could hear were you moans, and his tongue lapping in and out of you. Your hands grabbed and pulled at his hair, and it wasn't long until you came crashing down again.

Yes, you definitely were over-stimulated, especially having gone to long without an actual dick entering you. You weren't sure how much longer you could take it. But all you know was that you had to feel him inside of you again.

''Fuck Char I'm cumming'' was all you could say before you released into his mouth. He looked up at you and licked you clean, swallowing everything.

''So delicious baby. Fuck.''

''My turn. I need to taste you Char.'' You don't know where you got a sudden burst of energy, but you went with it.

''Let me fuck you again first, then I'll finish in your mouth. Bloody hell Y/N, you're going to be the end of me. The most amazing thing to happen to me'' he said as he flipped you over so you were on all fours.

You heard him take off all of his clothes, before lining up his dick at you entrance.

''You're ready? he asked.

''Fuck, always ready for you!'' you squealed.

And he slid into you in a single movement.

Now that you were not in public, your moans were incredibly loud and you couldn't give a shit if his neighbors could hear you.

''Holy fuck'' you squealed. This position had him deeper in you than he was when you'd fucked in the Ferrari. His cock was hitting all the right spots, and once again the pleasure overtook the pain.

''Babe you're doing so well for me. Letting me fuck you so hard. Not gonna last long like this'' he muttered while pulling you up so your head was resting against his. He tried to kiss you despite the awkward position, but ended up leaving a few hickeys on your neck.

''Char, I'm almost there'' was all you managed before he was flipping you over again and this time hammering into you while on-top of you.

''Let go for me, Cherie.''

And you did. You saw stars. Your mind blank and your body limb. But then you heard him - ''Y/N, I'm going to cum, sit up'' and you obeyed.

He pulled out of you and you took him into your hands. Pumping him a few times and finally took him into your mouth. Your hooded eyes looking up at him.

''Fuck I can get used to this view'' he moaned.

You could taste yourself on him and within seconds he was emptying himself in your mouth and across your tits. He tasted delicious. The only word you could use to describe the taste of Charles Leclerc.

You made sure to swallow every last drop and you licked him clean. You took a minute to actually take a look at his dick. Could you say it was beautiful? Yes, you could. So big and a hot vein on the one side. You already felt turned on again, but your pussy was telling you no.

''Wow, sweet, pretty Y/N, my dirty girl'' he smiled at you.

The butterflies in your tummy awakened when he called you 'his girl'

''Char, I could say the same thing about you and your dirty mouth!'' you squealed back to him.

He leaned down and locked his lips with you once more, before pulling away.

You pouted, ''where are you going?''

''Just to get a towel to clean up'' he smiled back. ''Oh, and it goes without saying- please spend the night here? I want to cuddle''

''Of course Char, I'd love that too.''

After cleaning up and putting on one of Charles' old Ferrari T-shirts, the two of you lay in bed. Your head was resting on his chest and he was drawing lazy circles on your back.

''You're such an amazing person Y/N. I know we've been back and fourth a lot these past few months but I am so happy to finally have you in my arms. I don't plan on over letting you go, by the way'' he smirked at you as you leaned on your elbow and pecked his nose. ''Please be my girlfriend?'' he asked with the biggest boyish grin.

''I'd want nothing more right now, my Charlie'' you gushed at him.

''Fucking luckiest man on the planet, I am'' he whispered before capturing your lips in his for the umpteenth make-out session of the night.

You both started to doze off so got into a more comfortable position. You were little spoon, of course, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer and leaving fluttering kisses in your hair.

When you awoke the next morning, it took you a few seconds to remember where you were. Then all the images from last night flashed in your mind and you couldn't stop a smile from forming on your face.

Charles' arm was still wrapped around your waist and his face was nuzzled in your hair. Something that caught you attention though, was something poking your ass- his boner.

You could still hear he was in a deep slumber so you decided to tease him a bit. You wiggled you ass against his crotch and immediately heard him grunt in his sleep.

Slowly, you turned your body so you were now facing him. He looks so devilishly handsome. His face was a perfect contour, and even in his sleep, his dimples could be traced with your fingers.

His eyes shot open and before you knew it his lips were on yours.

''Am i dreaming? Are you really in my bed, in my arms?'' he asked when he pulled back and closed his eyes again.

''I'm really here Charlie'' you said as your hand grabbed his boner through his boxers.

His eyes widened in surprise and he let out a loud laugh.

''Okay, yep, you're here'' he said as he climbed on-top of you to kiss you properly.

''My girlfriend'' he looked at you with heart eyes before kissing you again. His lips moved from your mouth, down to your neck, biting occasionally and then soothing with his tongue. When he reached your boobs, your nipples were swollen with the amount of tugging and sucking he did last night. They were sensitive so he played nice, just licked around them and suckled on them lightly.

You hands found their place in his hair again as he made his way down your tummy, spending a few seconds on your belly button, before placing himself on where you craved him the most.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, tongue quickly finding your clit, and now his fingers were swiping along your folds.

And your moans were getting louder. ''Óh god, yes, please yes!''

''I don't think I''ll ever get tired of hearing you beg for me. Fuck. The things you do to me'' he whispered loud enough so you could hear him.

Soon he thrust two fingers into you at once. It felt mind-blanking. So incredible. He was proper finger fucking you now. Not letting you breathe, just going at you nonstop, while his mouth was also working a number on you.

''I'm close. Please. Merde'' you couldn't hold off for much longer.

''Ask me''

''What?'' you looked down at him.

He wore a smirk. ''Ask me if you can come''

''Fuck Charles'' you moaned. But you needed to come, like right now, so you played along.

''Can i cum? Charles please let me cum''

''Who's making you want to come?''

You won't lie. This new dominant side of Charles was getting you to reach new heights. It was sexy as fuck.

''You Charles. Only you''

''Fuck baby, cum for me. Let me taste you''

And you didn't need to be told twice. You came crashing down, barely able to breathe, seeing stars once again.

Charles worked you through your orgasm, slowing his actions down.

''You are my new favorite flavor'' he whispered before letting you taste yourself on his lips.

''Hmmm'' you hummed into the kiss.

Th hour was just spent cuddling and talking sweet nothings until your stomach growled.

''You need to fuel up, store some energy for later'' Charles whispered in your ear.

''I'm starving. You definitely wrecked me Char'' you replied.

''Come on, let's get us something to eat''

There was something so domestic about watching Charles cook you breakfast. You could so see yourselves spending lazy mornings in like this. Shut out from the outside world. Just the two of you.

You'd talked some more and had decided to keep this new relationship just to yourselves. Of course your close friends would find out soon enough, hell they already suspect things, but you wanted to hide away from the rest of the world. Just be in your own bubble for a while.

After some heavenly pancakes, Charles decided to drag you to the shower.

No prizes for guessing what went on in the there.

The two of you fucked. Fucked harder than last night, harder than you've ever had before.

You back was against the cool tiles while Charles slammed into you. Hard and rough. His lips were on yours. Not really kissing you, but rather biting you. Tongue exploring your mouth again.

You could hardly even hold your body up when he made you come. Your legs were shaking to a point where they felt like jelly. But your Charles was strong. He held you up as he chased his own orgasm. You were both sweating from the heat of the water plus fucking each other. The moans you were sure could be heard by the neighbors were obscene - filled with grunts and french swear words. It was like a scene out of a porn movie.

You came twice more before Charles was grunting in your ear, literally breathless. You felt his warm liquid fill you up as he chanted your name repeatedly.

''Y/N, Y/N, fucking hell how are you so amazing at this. I've never had it so good before''

Breathlessly, you replied ''Likewise Char, but you're the amazing one. Fuck your dick is incredible. It feels incredible inside of me. Like it was made to fit into my cunt only''

After some more kissing and giggles, you washed each others hair and your bodies before climbing out of the shower.

You wore some of Charles' joggers and a T-shirt, which were obviously too big for you, but so comfortable.

Just as you settled onto the couch to find something to watch, the doorbell rang.

Charles pecked your cheek before going to the door to see who it was. In strolled one Lando Norris.

His eyes widened when he saw you. More so when he saw what you were wearing.

''I fucking new it. The two of you are fucking!'' he got all excited.

''I don't now what you're talking about'' you smirked at him, as Charles cuddled you to his side and kissed your lips.

''Blood hell, get a room'' Lando squealed.

''Mate, you are in my house'' Charles joked.

''No seriously, how long has this been going on'' Lando asked, pointing to you and Charles.

''Less than 24 hours'' Charles smiled at you.

''Like shit'' Lando replies.

''No seriously, last night, at the club'' you remarked.

''Fuck me. I thought that has been since Ibiza'' Lando says.

''Hmm'' was all you said back.

''Well, I will leave you two love birds. I just came to check if my thoughts were true, and now that I see they somewhat are, I'll be on my way. Oh and drinks on water tomorrow sunset?'' he asked.

''Ouais'' Charles replied before basically shoving Lando out the door to return to his spot beside you.

The day was spent just lazing around and cuddling. Charles took you back to your place at some point so you could get some clothes and toiletries. He demanded, in a playful manner that he needed you to stay with him for the week until you were both due to fly out to London for F1 shooting.

Going into the next day, it was as if your bodies were starved of each other. It was endless amounts of sex- literal fucking, and slow 'making love' sex.

Later in the day you met up with your friends on Lando's yacht. It was a beautiful day.

As you stood beside Charles, watching the sunset, he said it.

''I love you, Y/N. I think I always have, and I always will'' he said as he kissed your cheek.

You really couldn't believe where the two of you had ended up. Yes, you only properly started dating less than 2 days ago, but feelings started well over two years ago. You knew each other inside and out.

So you looked at him with glossy eyes as you tightened your grip on his hand.

''I love you too, so much Char'' and he immediately locked his lips with yours for a gentle kiss.

''You're finally mine'' he whispered.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #charles leclercxreader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut

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dira333 · 4 months

Text

Away from home - Oikawa x reader

Follower Celebration Request

A/N: Since I had quite some trouble characterizing him, I'd appreciate it if you told me how well I've managed

Your last roommate had been less difficult.

Granted, he’d only been on the lease for a month before he moved out again, and even then, you barely saw him.

But this guy is different. He’s been overly charming during the interview, to the point that it made you suspicious. Who flirts that much over a simple room? Especially when it had already been clear that he got it?

Oikawa Tooru is tall, good-looking, and aware of it. He’s also your roommate of one day and is already going on your nerves.

“The laundry.” You’re standing in the doorway to his room, laundry basket heavy on your hip. “You need to put it away when it’s done or I can’t use the washer.”

“Oh, I was going to do-” Tooru scrambles up from his bed where he’d been watching something on his laptop, his ridiculously floppy hair bouncing as he moves. He’s like a walking shampoo ad.

“Yeah, now.” You put the laundry basket down. “And I need it in half an hour when my load is done.”

“Sure thing, honeycup.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You had wondered, for about half a minute, how he was dealing with the culture shock that was Argentina. It had been tough for you, coming from America, but it had to be worse for him. You still remember how he blushed when you casually used his first name - like you were used to doing - before realizing that that’s not really a thing in Japan.

Was he as homesick as you? Did he miss familiar sights, the simple things like being able to get your favorite brand of chocolate in the nearby store instead of having to find a specialty shop and paying an arm and a leg for it?

You wanted to ask, kind of, until you walked back to his room thirty minutes later only to find your laundry basket still filled with wet clothing.

“Are you serious?” You ask. He looks up from his laptop, brows furrowed.

“What?” He asks.

“The laundry. I told you I need the basket.”

“I was going to-”

You grab the basket, lift it up, and turn it over, watching with a sick kind of satisfaction as it drops heavily on his bed - and partly on him too.

“I’m not your mom.” You remind him and storm out of his room before you can lose your temper even more.

A week later you’ve learned a few things about Tooru.

One, he needs longer in the bathroom than you. Especially in the mornings when you really have to pee.

Two, he has the worst diet you’ve ever seen and you lived with your diabetic grandfather until you moved here. How can he survive on coffee and Tortas Fritas and still look like someone cut him from marble a few hours ago?

Three, he never seems to sleep. Twice you’ve got up in the wee hours of the morning because your bladder insisted on it, only to find him up, watching sports on his laptop like a maniac.

Four, he owns at least five pairs of Alien-themed loungewear. That you know because he keeps forgetting to put his laundry away.

Which brings you to the fifth thing you’ve learned about him. He never, ever, ever puts his laundry away.

It’s a miracle he even knows how to start a washing cycle. But as soon as he presses the button he seems to forget that the machine even exists until you put the laundry basket in his room and insist that he hangs his clothes to dry. When you come back around and find that he hasn’t done that, you can either hang it up yourself to avoid the smell or nag him until he does it. Which in turn will lead to you nagging him about taking down the dry clothes. You suspect he just picks them from the clothes line whenever he needs to wear them, entirely foregoing his closet.

And you should be above this. He’s your roommate, not your friend. He’s a stranger and not part of your family. He’s not even a child, even though he acts like one. So even if you’re studying pediatric medicine, that does not mean you have to throw yourself in front of every man-toddler who seems to need your help.

But he does. And you cannot make yourself stop caring.

“Listen up, Buttercup.” You start the moment the door clicks shut behind him.

“Oh?” He asks, voice hopeful. The smile slips from his lips the moment he sees you.

Your hair is pushed away from your face thanks to the most ridiculous headband you own - it has two plush black crows sown onto both sides instead of cat ears because your little brother had both a sowing and a crow phase at the same time. You hold your spatula like a sword and point it at him.

“We’re cooking today.”

“I don’t need-”

“You cannot live by Tortas Fritas any longer.” You declare. “My medical degree will not allow it.”

“You don’t have a medical degree yet.”

“And you’re not Karch Kiraly but you sure act like him.”

That makes him perk up. “You know Karch Kiraly?”

“Who doesn’t?” You throw an apron at him. “Get dressed.”

“Do I have to?”

“Do you want to ruin your clothes?”

He makes a face like he’s hurting. “It’s just… it has crows on it.”

“Yes, my brother made it. You can use your own apron if you cannot handle some cute crows.”

The hurt look intensifies but he wraps it around his body, fiddles with the strings.

“You’re hopeless.” You step behind him and tie it closed, making sure to pull it extra tight as punishment for last week's actions.

“Do you have any allergies? Sensory issues?”

“I don’t like slimy food.”

“Well, you’re in luck, we’re not making slime today.”

Tooru is, surprisingly enough, not a fool in the kitchen. He knows how to cut vegetables without hurting himself and he manages not to burn anything.

But he talks. A lot.

His English is as good as your Japanese is rusty. His accent is kinda cute, but you choose to ignore that. His Spanish is downright criminal and you have to remind yourself of his awful laundry behaviors to keep from swooning every time he points at something and names it in Spanish.

“You’re very adamant.” You point out. “Your Spanish is good, you could probably slack off a day or two.”

The look he gives you has you shivering.

“Why should I slack off?” He asks. “What do I gain from that? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of your accent?”

There’s an intensity to his voice that makes you take a step back only to bump into the table behind you.

He stops, freezes, and for some inexplicable reason - ducks his head.

You stand there for a second, speechless and confused until he seems to realize that whatever he was waiting for isn’t coming. When he straightens up again, sadness washes over his face and you know that look - it’s Homesickness.

“Who are you missing right now?”

“Iwa-chan.” He turns around to flip the frittata. “He’s my best friend.”

“Did he ruffle your hair?” You ask, “Is that why you ducked your head?”

“No.” He laughs, still not facing you. It must be easier for him to be open like this when he’s not looking at you. “He’d throw Volleyballs at my head when I was misbehaving. I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Like you could scare me.” You joke, trying to downplay the effect he really had on you.

“Oh, I can be scary when I want to be, don’t you try me.” He turns this time, but the smile on his face ruins the joke. You like him more when he’s honest instead of charming.

“So that Iwa-chan.” You move to plate the food. “He’s your mom? Mom-Friend? Did he also make sure you did your laundry and went to bed early and ate healthy?”

It’s more meant as a joke than a real question and you falter when you realize that you hit the nail on the head.

Tooru seems to fold under your question.

“Yes.” He pouts. “I thought… Well…” He grips the edge of the sink, stares out the window instead of facing you. “The team I play for offers housing. I had a nice apartment all to myself.”

“But you need the reinforcement of a second person to actually get your life together?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even sound ashamed about it.

You step forward, as close to him as you dare. When he turns, you level him with a glare, stick your pointer finger into his ridiculous buff chest.

“You listen to me, you little shit. I am not your mother and I am not your Iwa-chan. I will not run after you and remind you to eat and take a shit and go to sleep. You are more than capable of doing it yourself.”

He opens his mouth to answer but you’re not done yet.

“If I catch you with another Tortas Fritas this month, I’ll whoop your ass.”

Tooru smiles so bright you can see a dimple forming. “Is that a promise?”

“Eat.” You turn away before he can see how flustered that comment made you.

Two days later you find him in the kitchen, making a ridiculous show of it as if he’s there to film an ad for an apron instead of cooking.

He’s bought an apron for himself. Something told you he wanted to buy an alien-themed one but couldn’t find one.

Should you tell him that Godzilla isn’t an alien? He seems pretty happy about the little guy destroying cities on the flimsy fabric.

It’s been a rough day for you. Both your period and your work studies have you rubbed raw. You want to crawl into bed, not think about the boy that came in today, the one who reminds you too much of your little brother.

“Hey, am I doing this right?” Tooru calls after you as you make your way to your bedroom to unload your stuff.

“For sure.” You croak out, half turned to look at him.

There’s something in his smile that makes it look wobbly. Not for the first time you wonder if he’s just as homesick as you are. You drop your bag on the floor in front of your bedroom door and walk back to the kitchen.

“What are you making?”

“Curry.” He waves his spoon around like he’s a magician instead of a cook. “My mother’s recipe.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever tried Japanese Curry. Can I try?”

“Of course.” Tooru grins proudly. “I made enough for both of us. And there will be leftovers.”

“That’s neat. What’s the special ingredient?”

“No special ingredient. It’s a basic recipe, I can teach you if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You lean against the sink, surprised when he pulls something from the fridge.

“Iced coffee. Thought you might like one when you get home.”

“You’re a godsend.” You groan and take the first sip. You’re not sure what’s more effective at waking you up, the caffeine or the coolness of the drink against the heat of all of Argentina.

“You shouldn’t drink that much coffee.” He points out when you’re halfway done with the drink.

“You shouldn’t tell me what to do.”

“You could sleep more.”

“I will when you do it too.”

He looks up, a grin on his face that speaks of danger. “Deal.”

“What?”

“Bedtime for both of us. Does ten sound okay?”

“You’ll never be able to get to bed at ten. Don’t you have to bingewatch sports for five hours at night to feel complete?”

“Ouch. I’m just doing research.”

“Mhm, or you have a fetish.”

He laughs at that, loud and carefree. You like him like this.

“Tell me about your mom.” It sounds a little too harsh, but he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re demanding instead of asking.

He looks different when he speaks of his family. Younger and taller, both at the same time. Like he allows himself to be vulnerable and grows above himself through that.

You wonder how he could ever think that his fake smile could work on women when his real smile is this attractive.

Days turn into weeks, into months.

Tooru is now the crowned king of the kitchen - after a few too many cooking battles that you’ve all sorely lost. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to cook, he just needs a reason to do so. He jokes it’s the smile on your face when you eat, but you don’t want to believe that.

It holds too many implications to believe it.

In turn, you’ve taken up all laundry duties. It’s a good system and you don’t have to nag him anymore. If he doesn’t put his dirty laundry out on Tuesdays, he will go without clean clothes for another week. Enforcing that rule has already gotten you plenty of pictures to use for blackmail, your favorite the one of him in a bright pink jumpsuit he was supposed to bring a friend. Pink suits his flustered face.

Iwa-chan is coming today. He’d told you about it weeks in advance when his friend booked the flight.Tooru has been like a headless chicken ever since and you’re happy for him, you really are, but there’s also a pang of jealousy. Why can’t your family take the time to visit you?

You know why, but it still hurts that you’re going to have to watch him be happy, pushed to the side in favor of his new friend.

“Hey.” He stops by your door, throws himself into a ridiculous pose like he always does and grins when you can’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m leaving in five minutes. Are you ready?”

You furrow your brows. “Ready for what? I told you you have to clean the apartment, he’s your guest.”

“No, to come with me, silly. I can’t go into the madness of an airport alone! What if someone recognizes you?”

“Well, they might do as a favor and kidnap you.” You joke and watch him pout. It’s ridiculous how cute that makes him look.

“Take that back.” Tooru whines and you laugh. “Never.

“Take that back!” He repeats, taking one step, then two, only to drop himself on you.

You shriek in surprise at the sudden weight, try to wiggle away but his face is so close, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes full of light.

You don’t really know who moved closer first. You, him, both of you?

But your lips meet and your eyes close and it’s just him and you and your joined breath and the softness of his lips, his weight on you and your hands in his ridiculous fluffy hair.

You don’t speak for a while, don’t need too. Exploring this is more important.

Eventually he pulls away to press his temple against yours, to squint into his eyes.

“You like me?” He asks, voice uncharacterally shy.

“I hate you.” You tease and move for his lips again. He pouts.

“Don’t tell anyone.” You whisper against his lips. “Okay? Don’t tell Tooru.”

“Just Iwa-chan.” He whispers back, caught in the feeling of it. “He’ll be able to guess it anyway.

You giggle against his lips, kiss him again, once, twice, until you can feel yourself getting lost in it again. But there’s a thought nibbling at the edge of your brain now and it gets louder.

“Tooru?” You ask when you pull back again. “Shouldn’t we leave for the airport?”

His eyes widen comically as he whips his head around to look at your alarm clock.

“Shit! He’s going to be so mad!”

Iwa-chan is a monument of muscle, a building of a man. He’s not that tall, at least not taller than Tooru, but he’s impressive in his sturdiness, arms folded in front of his chest as he glowers at Tooru.

Tooru seems totally unimpressed by that, even as you drag your feet, a little scared of his friend.

“Iwa-chaaaan!” He sings, drapes himself over his friend's shoulder. “I missed you!”

“Clearly you didn’t! You’re half an hour late!”

“It’s not my fault.” Tooru smiles coyly, pulling you close by the hand he’d been holding since you exited his car. “Can you blame me? I got distracted by beauty!”

“I…” You stumble. “I’m sorry. This time it really is my fault. But I kicked his ass on the way here.”

Iwa-chan’s lips quirk up into a hint of a smile.

“Good. I’ll leave the rest of the ass-kicking to you.”

You salute him, which has Tooru whining like a child and begging for mercy.

You pull at his ear, just enough to tease him.

“Come on.” You tell him. “You need to show Iwa-chan how well you cleaned your apartment.”

Tagging anyone who helped me - it was much appreciated:

@alienaiver @misfit-megumi @missalienqueen @amecchii @notsochillnerd @ur-local-simp @krishnaabhistha @fuzztacular

Hope I didn't forget anyone. If I did, forgive me!

my Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #Oikawa x reader #Oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 8 months

Text

Lay all your love (on me)

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get hired to be Elizabeth’s love interest in her new movie and nothing could prepare you to how your life would change upon meeting her

Disclaimer: English is not my first language

MASTERLIST

When you got the call that the part on the upcoming rom-com was yours, you could barely believe it. It took you days and actually signing the contract to fully believe that was about to happen - you finally got an important part in a big movie with some big stars. After struggling with your career for years now, that was very refreshing.

You didn’t know much about the movie plot at first, just a few bits that were enough for you to know you would be the romantic interest for the protagonist, but that was about it. You didn’t know who the protagonist was going to be - you were fairly sure they hadn’t hired anyone yet - but that didn’t stop you from going out with your friends to celebrate. It was a big moment, something that could really change your career, so you held nothing back to party and have a great time.

Weeks later, you were informed your romantic interest had finally been chosen and you almost yelled from the top of your lungs when the name Elizabeth Olsen was announced. Of course you knew who she was and was so, so, so excited to work with her. As soon as her name was announced, the media started giving the movie much more attention as well and you could barely contain your excitement to get the shooting started. You got to work with a Hollywood star who made several Marvel movies and a very successful TV show, not to mention all of her other works that you were a big fan of. Not only that, but you would play a couple and you couldn’t wait until you were finally told the exact day the shooting would start.

You would have to travel to another country, but you weren’t too worried about that. London was a nice place to be for a couple of months until you guys wrapped the movie, even if you would live in a hotel for that time being. You even got to the city a day before she had to just to make sure you weren’t jet-legged before going to the set for the first time. The only thing that slightly worried you a bit was that the director had forego a table reading for the entire cast, which meant you guys would only meet on the first day of working together, something that didn’t always work out the right way.

Even so, on the first day you had to be on the set, you woke up super early to be able to have a nice breakfast and get ready, and then you called for a cab to take you to where the shooting was going to happen. Most people had no idea who you were yet, but an assistant was waiting for you to take you to the director for a quick chat before going to hair and make-up. You knew the director already - since he was obviously there for your audition - although that didn’t make you any less nervous to be standing in front of him while the man talked about what was expected of you. He gave you a brief explanation of your character and how you should behave when the cameras were rolling, then you talked about the first scene you would shoot.

“We’re only going to need you after lunch since we’re shooting a few other things this morning with Ms Olsen and other characters,” he explained. “But be here around two and we’re getting started, okay?”

You could only nod along because you would never be stupid enough to disagree with someone who had been working in the industry since before you were born. “Is there anything specific I need to do for the scene? I read the script that was sent to me, but-”

“Oh, shit,” the director interrupted you with a grunt. “Bella, did we send her the new shooting schedule?” Upon seeing your panicked face and the assistant blank stare, he only sighed and shook his head. “Fine, then we have something for you to work on. We changed the scenes we’re shooting today because one of the actors had a problem with their agenda. My assistant here will give you the new part we’re doing today, so you’ll have new things to memorize.”

And that’s how your nerves got a thousand times worse.

You had been beating yourself up for weeks, putting a lot of pressure on your shoulders to do an impeccable job, to not screw over your big opportunity and, especially, to make a good first impression. You trained your lines in front of mirrors and with a close friend several times, and now suddenly things had changed and you didn’t feel like you had enough time to work on the new scene for it to be as good as you wanted it to be. However, once again, you didn’t try to tell other people how to do their job. You just accepted the new script and locked yourself with the make-up department to study the pages while they did their work.

It took you very little time to realize what scene you were supposed to be doing that day. On your very first day, nonetheless. It was a scene where your character and Elizabeth’s character held a small conversation before kissing. You were going to be kissing Elizabeth Olsen that day and you were not even a little bit prepared for that.

“You seem nervous, honey,” one of the oldest ladies in the room said when her assistant walked off to grab something.

You hadn’t noticed you were bouncing your leg until she pointed it out, but, once you did, you quickly froze and, with wide eyes and blushing cheeks, looked at her. “I’m not.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” she said with a low chuckle, clearly not believing in you.

“Yes, but…” You took a deep breath and let your eyes go through the pages again. “This is big, you know? And I’m not. I can’t screw this over.” After looking up again, you saw the way the woman was looking through her make-up kit to find something and it made you bite your lip as if you were waiting for it to be another failure of your day. “I wish I had bumped into her in the hallways or something.”

Thankfully, the make-up artist found what she was looking for and went back to her work. “Who are you shooting with?”

She was apparently used to having people freaking out on her chair and she was nice enough, kind and gentle, so you had no problem venting out to her a little bit. “Elizabeth.”

“Oh!” A wide smile turned the woman’s lips up. “She was here earlier today, obviously! She’s a gem!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Really nice person, you really have nothing to worry about!”

You hesitated for a second, looked at the scene written on the paper again, and then sighed. “Even if we have to kiss and we never even saw each other before?”

Well, the kind lady didn’t have anything helpful to say about that and you were left with silence once her assistant returned to the room. After your make-up was done, you had an early lunch break, and you ate alone inside a room while glossing over the script like a hawk. The more time went by, the more nervous you got, to the point you were starting to feel the beginning of an anxiety attack coming to bite you in the ass. That would certainly be way worse - way worse - so you decided to take a break for real and take a walk around the studio to think about anything else.

You had half an hour before having to go to the dressing room, so you walked slowly outside, enjoying the not so warm day out while taking calm breaths. You were walking for maybe ten minutes when you saw someone walking over beside an assistant and under an umbrella towards the door. Probably returning from a lunch break herself was Elizabeth Olsen, who didn’t seem to notice you as she walked. That was a perfect opportunity to pick up with her, introduce yourself and make things less weird once you two were standing in front of a camera, but you were too far away and the only way to reach her in time was to run towards her, which was even worse.

So, with a bit of dread in your heart, you watched her going inside and disappearing from your line of sight, and you were once again hit with the thoughts from before. You weren’t actually starstruck or something like that because you were professional and could get your job done, but the fear of somehow ruining things in front of Elizabeth made things worse. She had years of experience in big roles and she was the face of the movie, the protagonist. You couldn’t screw things up on your first scene.

Obsessing over it again, you went to the dressing department while chewing a mint, and popped another two before heading out, both out of nerves and because you were afraid you might have bad breath when you were supposed to be kissing someone. It wasn’t actually kissing, of course, but that would be bad. Very bad.

By the time the director called you for another talk, you had already dried your palms at least five times on the nice pants the wardrobe people gave you. He had a few things to point out, some tips and other requests for you, and you listened attentively. So attentively indeed that you didn’t notice when Elizabeth walked on set as well.

You were shooting inside a room that was supposed to look like a cafe and you had your backs turned to it, entirely missing the other actress walking behind you to talk to someone else. Once your eyes caught her, though, you felt your heart skipping a beat before skyrocketing inside your chest. You didn’t have the opportunity to be that close to her before, but, now that you had, you couldn’t help but take in all the details. From the clothes her character was going to wear, to the light make-up she had on, to the way her hair was falling in soft waves down her back.

Your first thought was that she looked beautiful, but that wasn’t exactly news. You had eyes, you knew who Elizabeth Olsen was before, and you knew she was beautiful. Although, seeing it up close, was certainly a whole new experience. The first thing that crossed your mind was how your imagination really tricked you into thinking she was much shorter than she was, though she was wearing high heels and you weren’t. Your clothes were plainly different since you were wearing jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers, while Elizabeth was wearing a ridiculously short skirt and what you assumed was a crop top besides the heels, of course.

You almost rolled your eyes at that because the director was really trying to make it clear that those characters were opposites - just like the cliche that the opposites attract or something similarly cheesy.

Noticing you got distracted by something, the director followed your eyes and quickly spotted Elizabeth, then saying something that made your heart beat even faster than before. “Elizabeth, come here please.”

You barely had the time to prepare yourself. You tried to discreetly run a hand through your hair, although you thought better about it when you remembered you didn’t have time to go back to hair and make-up, and also held yourself higher with a sudden perfect posture. If anyone else noticed it, no one said a thing, for which you were grateful.

“You know each other, right?” The director asked once Elizabeth stopped in front of you two, but he didn’t give you enough time to answer before starting to ramble about where he wanted you to stand, and what you should do, and when to tell certain things.

You kept stealing glances at the blonde woman in front of you, feeling your face getting warmer and warmer, though there wasn’t much you could do about it. The conversation ended with the director saying you had five minutes before the shooting started and then walking away to talk with someone else, and you didn’t have much of a choice but to follow one of his assistant leads to find your place to be on set. Elizabeth seemed more familiar with things and people already, and she easily sat down at one of the chairs to wait for things to get moving.

Before you realize it, someone is making you sit across from her at the table, and your nerves hit you with full force all at once. “H-Hi. So, uh, this is not weird at all, huh?”

And, as usual, you used humor as a defense mechanism.

Luckily, it did the trick because Elizabeth actually smiled at you, even if it was mostly just polite. “Y/N, right?” She asked, though she obviously knew it was you by now. Even so, you nodded to let her know she was right. “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet before, but I just got here from where I was shooting my last job. They wanted to do a table reading, but I couldn’t make it and we were already on a tight schedule.”

Well, that explained some of the rush people seemed to be in. You couldn’t blame her for having a busy agenda, of course, even if that certainly didn’t help with your anxiety. You still offered her a gentle smile and waved a hand. “That’s okay. I mean, not ideal, but okay. I suppose there were worse scenes for us to shoot after literally knowing each other for five minutes,” you joked.

Elizabeth understood what you meant and chuckled - a low, deep sound that made your insides twist a bit and you just knew you would have to work extra hard to end up that job without a new crush on someone that was way out of your league.

You didn’t have time to dwell on that for long because the director soon asked everyone to be on their marks and, a couple of minutes later, he was yelling “action!”.

You did the best you could at that moment. Not your best, but the best you could. You were nervous, you were shaking a bit and your mind was running faster thinking about the kiss you would have to give Elizabeth later on the scene. Were the mints you ate enough? You brushed your teeth twice, but maybe you should’ve done it once more just to be sure. And you didn’t even have the time to discuss with Elizabeth how the kiss would play out. You would like to know if she had any boundaries she wouldn’t like you to cross or what to do with your hands. And, oh God, your palms were sweaty again, you couldn’t just put them on her face.

The first takes were a disaster. The director seemed so disappointed that you could barely look at him, but he was also looking pissed the more he had to cut a scene. The problem wasn’t even your lines since you hit them all at the right time, but it was hard to ignore that Elizabeth and you didn’t seem to have any chemistry. You were still weird around each other, albeit you would have to admit Elizabeth was doing most of the job while you were silently freaking out across from her.

It was a very frustrating two hours before the director decided to go for the kiss. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was his last try before giving up completely, something that you were sure once he decided to call it a day after the first and only kiss you shared with Elizabeth on screen. While you were moping on your chair, you noticed that he called Elizabeth into a corner and they were talking at each other in whispers, and you could swear you saw eyes snapping at you every once in a while, which only made things worse.

You felt like you had already ruined everything. The thing you were most afraid of, and you managed to do just that. No more opportunities in your career because you just proved to a very important director and a well-known actress that you couldn’t do your job.

Jesus fuck.

You left the set faster than anyone could stop you. You knew you were the one to blame for the terrible work you did that day and you wanted a few minutes alone to mop and collect yourself before someone knocked on the door to fire you. You didn’t have trailers though and you weren’t sure if there were any free rooms, so you ended up in hair and make-up again, thinking that you could at least remove it all before crying and ruining your mascara.

“How was it, honey?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the make-up artist’s voice coming from a corner of the room since you hadn’t noticed she was there, but you soon relaxed when you saw her kind smile directed at you. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie, not really, and maybe talking with someone would prepare you not to cry when you got fired for real, so that’s what you did.

“It was terrible,” you admitted sadly. “I ruined everything. We don’t have chemistry. Like, none at all. I’m waiting for someone to stop by to fire me right now.”

“Fire you? What for?”

She looked genuinely confused by it. “Well, it’s just, you know… They’re not going to fire her. She’s Elizabeth Olsen. She’s the reason why so many streaming platforms tried to buy this movie. They will realize they can find someone better to be her romantic interest. Maybe Aubrey Plaza, since they already did a movie together. They know each other, it will be easier for them.”

“So you think things could be fixed if you knew her better?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and totally missed the way the woman rolled her eyes at you while you sat down. She was finding it all amusing, even if you were on the verge of crying for ruining your career.

“You met today, didn’t you?” The woman asked and waited for you to nod. “Maybe that’s the problem. You just met.”

You thought about it for a moment, allowing her to start removing your make-up for you even if that wasn’t exactly her job, a frown permanently on your face. “You’re saying I should get to know her better.”

“Of course! Don’t worry too much, honey. It was the first day. They’re not going to fire you on the first day.”

That made sense. Now that someone else pointed it out, you could see that it was very unlikely that they would fire you after one day of shooting. Yes, it wasn’t great and they didn’t have much time to wait for you to catch up, but that only meant you had to be fast to fix things. You didn’t want to lose that gig and you certainly didn’t want to allow people to think you were bad at what you did. You were just nervous. Overly nervous because of your anxiety, that’s all. It was your first big job, you were meeting some important people, the schedule got changed last minute, and you shouldn’t have drank three cups of coffee in the morning, for sure.

You could still fix this.

You just needed to be fast.

“I’m bringing you donuts tomorrow!” You promised as you ran out of the room minutes later, but you didn’t wait for a reply - nor did you add that you would do that if you didn’t get fired.

Your optimism was back and you wasted no time to go find one of the assistants to ask what time you should be there tomorrow - just to be sure you were expected to be there tomorrow - and then you set on your mission to go find Elizabeth. You had no idea what to say or what you needed, but you knew you had to find her to, at the very least, try to change her perception of you.

You were lucky enough to find her alone looking at her phone while she seemingly waited for someone to show up in the hallway where she was standing, so you quickly walked towards Elizabeth and displayed your best smile - now much more relaxed and less nervous. “Hey, good I found you here!”

Green eyes - so damn green, you thought - looked up at you and Elizabeth put her phone away before crossing her arms and waiting for you to stop in front of her. “Hello.”

“I wanted to apologize for today,” you started and gave her no time to interrupt. “I know that was mostly my fault, well, all my fault actually.” You let out a self-deprecating chuckle as you raised a hand to scratch the back of your neck. “I’m sorry, I admit I was a bit nervous. I mean, we met literally minutes before having to shoot together. I’m not used to that.” You dropped your hand and, without realizing it, started to move them around while you talked. “We’re going to shoot that scene again tomorrow and I was thinking that maybe we should get to know each other so things don’t go as weird as they went today.”

Okay, Elizabeth’s eyes were very green. They were so light! And her nose was so cute, slightly turned up. And no one should be allowed to have such perfectly shaped lips like that, it should be a crime, really.

You got lost in your thoughts, you realized, and it made your cheeks go red so fast that you let out an awkward cough just to have an excuse to bring your hand to your face to try to cover it a bit. “Well, I was thinking that maybe you would like to go out with me today.”

That was not what you wanted to say. At all. Oh, fuck.

Elizabeth’s reaction would have been priceless if you weren’t the idiot standing in front of her. Her eyes widened, she took a step back, and her own face went pink. It all happened so fast that it took you a moment to recover as well.

“It's not like a date date,” you quickly said, desperately trying to fix what you did. “I mean, we will have dinner, talk, hang out for a bit, but it doesn't have to be romantic. I mean, it's not romantic!” You corrected, waving your hands around and standing there with your eyes almost falling from your face, and your heart beating way too fast again. Well, so much for trying to save your job. Now you were going to be let down under the accusation of sexual harassment or something like that. You didn’t know if keeping talking was a good or a bad idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop either. “I just thought it might help us lose up a little bit, you know? Get more comfortable around each other. Our first scene together was a very… deep kiss, we didn't have much time to talk before that.”

Elizabeth didn’t say anything at first, but she also didn’t look as surprised as before, so you would count that as a small victory. You waited for her to say something while changing your weight from one leg to the other, hands awkwardly crossed in front of you while also trying not to stare at her for too long. It was the way you were incapable of not being a gay mess that got you in that situation, after all.

“So…” The other woman started eventually and you felt your breath getting stuck in your throat as you waited for the verdict. “Like a dinner?”

“Yes,” you agreed way too fast, just for you then realize it would be better if you acted a bit more like it wasn’t just dinner with a stranger. “And no. If you don’t mind, I think that acting just a little bit like it's a date might help. I could open the doors for example.” Just after you said that, you realized how dumb it sounded. You placed both hands on your waist and took a deep breath. “I will stop talking now before I dig myself a bigger hole,” you mumbled shyly.

Yes, you were now getting fired.

You would have to pray not to have the police knocking on your door either.

God, you really should’ve gone to college like your family wanted you to.

“I don't dislike your idea, but we don’t have much time,” Elizabeth took pity on you, apparently, which you weren’t sure was a good thing. “We have more scenes together to shoot tomorrow.”

Way quicker than you should, you exclaimed: “We can go out tonight!” And, after hearing how eager you sounded, you were fast to add: “If you want.”

Elizabeth didn’t look so certain that it was a good idea indeed, and you pretended not to see when she glanced at you from head to toe because it would only make you blush again - you feared your face would never return to its natural color if you kept blushing like that. “Ok,” the other woman conceded finally.

It was your turn to express how surprised you were by that answer. “Wait, really? Okay! Yeah, great!” You were rambling and, once again, you couldn’t stop. “Just spectacular!” Just spectacular? Really? You had nothing better to say? Could you keep yourself from oversharing things, please? “I will, uh, go now.” And now you were stuttering as well, good. “Just, uh, I will wait for you or I will meet you at the parking lot or…?” You trailed off, now sure you should just stop talking altogether.

“I would like to go back to the place I'm staying to change, if you don't mind,” Elizabeth said.

You wasted no time to nod eagerly at her. “Of course not! That’s perfect.” Yes, because you needed to return the clothes to the dressing department and having a shower also sounded nice. You could back to your hotel and pick something better to wear. It also gave you some time to find out where you could take her. “I can, uh, pick you up if you wish and then we can, hm, go.”

Now Elizabeth grinned at you stumbling over the words and her eyes glanced down for a moment - just enough for you to feel like you could breathe again. “Sounds nice. I have your phone from the group chat they put us in today. I will send you my location when I get there,” she promised.

You sighed in relief, not even trying to hide it. “Sure, sure. Okay.” The rambling was back. “Yes. Perfect.”

“Yes, spectacular,” Elizabeth replied with a slight teasing in her tone that made you relax instantly.

You chuckled mostly at your own awkwardness and then shook your head. “Okay, now I will go.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb and saw the blonde woman smile. “See you later.”

Soon - very soon - you came to the conclusion that you were insane.

There was no other explanation, really, because you really asked Elizabeth Olsen to have dinner with you. And then you proceeded to run over your mouth and say it was kind of like a date, but not a real date. You should also not forget that you not only made a fool of yourself - twice in the same day, you might add - but you also managed to make things worse than they were before.

You were certain you would be fired by the end of the week.

But that was the exact thought that made you find enough courage to keep going with your plan. There was no way you could make things worse, you were at least sure of that. So you could keep up with your initial thoughts to get to know her a little better. You might get out of that with a friend, after all.

Also, the idea of having dinner with Elizabeth was a good one. You loved her work and you could spend some time gushing about how amazing she was - something you were sure you would find no problem in doing.

With your mind set to make it all worth it, you tried to find a nice restaurant on your way to the hotel. You tried to use your phone, but your mind was racing too much and you couldn’t comprehend the several reviews from different restaurants online. You read all of them, but no word actually stuck and you barely even understood the restaurant’s names to start with.

“Hey,” you decided to say, leaning over between the seats to get closer to your driver. He seemed like a nice guy, he hadn’t tried to talk to you yet and he put on a nice playlist, so you considered it was safe to ask him. “Do you know any good restaurants in town?”

“Depends. What do you want to eat? And what’s the occasion?”

You left his car with three options in your mind, which was great because you could call them and ask if they would take your reservation. The driver told you the name of another restaurant just before he took off, having leaned on his window to be heard by you, and you raised your thumbs at him in thanks before entering the hotel. You and Elizabeth didn’t say what time you would pick her up, therefore you decided not to take too long to get ready. You showered pretty quickly and chose your clothes after just a few minutes of debating with yourself, and then you grabbed your phone to make some calls.

Two of the restaurants didn’t even pick up the call and you wondered if they were even working that night, and the third one said they didn’t have any free tables. Luck started to smile at you when you called the fourth place the driver had said and they gladly told you they would be waiting for you at any time you decided to drop by. Relieved, you decided to check their name just to be sure you wouldn’t be taking Elizabeth to a food truck around the block. It seemed like a nice enough place, just a small French bistro that you were sure would do just great.

Elizabeth reached out about two hours after you got into your hotel room and you couldn’t say you weren’t surprised that she was still on board with that. You were half expecting her to either text you saying she couldn’t make it or just disappear all night, but you were glad to see that wasn’t the case. After calling for another cab, you took one last look in the mirror to make sure you were looking somewhat good enough, and then you left to meet her.

The address she sent you wasn’t from a hotel and you soon found yourself in front of a building. You texted her to let her know you were there and, after asking the driver to wait for a minute, you exited the vehicle to wait for Elizabeth outside. She didn’t take too long to appear, opening the door and stepping out distractedly, although she immediately caught your attention.

Elizabeth was wearing a simple dark green shirt that clung to her skin perfectly and a black tiered skirt that went down to her ankles. Around her waist, a black belt complemented the look along with the high heels that you weren’t surprised to see. Her hair was pretty much the same as you had seen earlier that day, but she clearly put on some effort to do her make-up, topping it all with red lipstick that made your brain shut for a while.

You were all of a sudden feeling undressed, though you couldn’t imagine having anything in your wardrobe that would get even close to that.

“Wow,” you breathed out once she spotted you and started walking towards you. “You look… gorgeous.

“Oh, thank you.” You noticed a blush rising from her neck to her cheeks and how she raised a hand to put her hair behind her ear and you just smiled at the cute scene.

Holy crap, you didn’t even know someone could be so beautiful.

Noticing you were staring at her again, you shook your head and pointed to the car waiting for you two. “Right, so, we should, uh, go.”

The drive to the restaurant took a while and you tried to keep the conversation light because the driver could hear you two talking and it would do no good. Elizabeth kept her replies short, but she shot back you a few questions - mostly about your career and how you got into acting. She admitted not knowing much about you before they called her to be the protagonist of the current movie you were working on, but you didn’t mind about that. She seemed interested enough to learn now and that’s all that mattered. Things still felt a bit awkward, but you were going to blame that on the fact that you had to watch your words since you weren’t alone.

“I hope you don’t mind the place,” you told her after stepping out of the car. The bistro behind you was even smaller than you initially thought and it looked mostly empty, which made you start rethinking your decision to take Elizabeth there. “But I was told they have an amazing menu.”

“It looks nice,” Elizabeth replied with a small smile.

You motioned for her to walk first but, before she could open the door of the restaurant, you remembered what you said before and took large steps to beat her to it - which would certainly look ridiculous to someone looking from outside, but there wasn’t much you could do. You opened the door for her and waved your hand dramatically to indicate the way to the other woman. Elizabeth arched one eyebrow before chuckling softly and walking inside the bistro. She paused to wait for you to do the same and you were blessed with a smile when you looked at her again.

Before you could say anything, though, someone approached you to take you both to your table. After you were sitting, you allowed yourself a moment to just look around the bistro, noticing the small details and the cozy environment while Elizabeth looked over the wine charter to pick something. It was a nice place indeed, especially where you were sitting by one of the corners since you asked for privacy, and you almost wished you had tipped the driver better for that only.

“I wanted to apologize,” you said after you placed your order minutes later. Elizabeth looked at you in confusion, so you jumped to explain. “I feel like I might have made you uncomfortable with my rambling earlier. This isn’t a date and I’m sorry if I made it sound like it was. I tend to make jokes when I’m nervous, but they don’t always come out…” you nodded while trying to think about the right way to phrase it, “as I wish they did.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, don’t worry,” Elizabeth told you calmly. “I understood where you were trying to get and what you were trying to say. Like I said, I don’t think this is a horrible idea. It can actually help us out.”

“Yes, that’s another thing I want to apologize for.” You scratched the back of your neck and grimaced. “I kind of ruined the shooting today.”

“You weren’t the only one there, you know?” She offered with a shrug. “Like I said, getting to know each other will help us out. Besides, we’re going to work together for two months, so I guess this is a good start.”

“Even if I put my foot in my mouth?” You wondered, although now you were feeling relaxed enough to feel all your anxiety leave your body at once. It was like you could finally be yourself without the constant fear of doing or saying something wrong.

“Let’s see how the night goes,” Elizabeth joked and you both shared a laugh at that.

Things after that went pretty well.

The wine got there before the food and you both drank while talking about work at first. It was an easy topic, sharing fun stories and anecdotes that made the other laugh, but it soon wandered away from it. You both started talking about family, friends, hobbies, dreams, plans for the future and, before you realized it, you were animatedly chatting, laughing and gesticulating as if you had never once felt nervous around Elizabeth before.

She had a cute laugh that made you want to keep saying silly things to hear it again, and an easy smile that made your heart skip a beat, and green eyes that made you never want to look away, and her voice was so smooth that you wished you could hear her for hours and hours. She was funny, but she was also smart. She talked with passion about her works, about gardening, about her family, about the books she liked to read, and about everything she loved.

Halfway through dinner, you realized you wished it was a date.

It wasn’t surprising because you knew yourself enough to know it might end up happening - Elizabeth was, after all, a very beautiful and interesting woman - but that didn’t mean it made things easier. You were there to forge a friendship with her so you could work together, not to fancy her somehow. Elizabeth was also way out of your league, you couldn’t even bring yourself to dream about anything else happening.

The conversation was happening so smoothly that neither of you realized the restaurant was about to close until one of the waitresses politely told you she would have to collect the plates, but that you could finish off the wine bottle before leaving. That was the second bottle you shared and you were feeling just too happy already, so you declined to drink the rest of it. You were sure you weren’t drunk from the alcohol but from the great time you were having, but it was better safe than sorry. Elizabeth ended up saying she wouldn’t drink it either and you decided to call it a night to allow the employees to go home instead of having to work in a mostly empty restaurant.

You called for a cab once you were outside, thankfully managing to make a car stop in front of you pretty fast, and then you opened up the back door for Elizabeth to enter. You slid behind her, telling her address to the driver, and then you kept talking silently until the car parked in front of her building. You got out first and reached out with one hand to help Elizabeth get out as well before walking her to the door.

“I had a great time,” Elizabeth said as she turned around to face you.

“So did I,” you smiled. “I don’t think I laughed this hard in a long time.”

Her giggle reached your ears, which brought you such a gleeful feeling that you just knew was not a good sign. “Me neither,” she admitted.

When you tell that story years down the road, you would blame the way Elizabeth smiled at you and the way the light made her shine like something from another world for what you said next - though you knew it was just your large mouth speaking before your brain could process the words again. “So, if I wanted to take you out on a date date, would I stand any chance?”

Elizabeth looked at you for a long time before finally replying. “Well, you certainly left a good impression tonight.” She hesitated before talking again. “I would say it made me wish it was a real date. Just a little bit,” she added with a hint of humor, holding her index finger and her thumb just a few inches apart from each other.

You laughed - mostly out of relief - and nodded. “Do you think, well, do you think you have free time later this week? I would love to take you out again.”

“I think we can make that work,” was her answer and, honestly, that’s all you needed to be sure you made the right choice that day.

The director barely recognized you two working together on the screen the next day, so much so that he pulled you both to the side to congratulate you on your performance. You said it was all Elizabeth, but she only rolled her eyes at you and hit your hibs with her elbow before you both shared a laugh. You had your first official date that same Friday at the same bistro, albeit you ordered different dishes this time.

You were officially dating a month later and, by the time you wrapped the movie, there was already some gossip going around about you two. Both Elizabeth and you decided to ignore it and not address it for a while since they were harmless gossip - not to mention that it did wonderful things to the movie’s advertising.

A year later, though, you walked holding hands at the movie premier and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that you were celebrating your first year together promoting the movie that made you meet the love of your life.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #celebrity x reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff

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firsttimewriter92 · 9 months

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Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Description: You´ve just moved in a couple of weeks ago, trying for a new start. A brief encounter with your neighbor gets your endorphins and imagination going. What is it about the mask?

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, a little pining

Word count: 1.917

A/N: Hi everyone <3 This is my very first Simon Riley x reader fic. I´ve written about several characters of CoD but Ghost was always kind of an enigma to me. I never knew how to make him the love interest. But and idea popped into my head after reading some characterization that made it much easier to write for him. So here you go :) Let me know if a part 2 is something you´d be interested in.

“Jesus fucking Christ” you swore as you tried your best to push your heavy apartment door open and balance your bag and groceries through the door. It was a struggle to say the least, but you were damned if you did second trips. Grumbling through your teeth you saw no other possibility than setting down your bag, holding the door open with your foot and grabbing your groceries a little more securely. Bending your knee, you gave your door a forceful push and slid through into your small hallway. Foregoing taking off your shoes you made your way into your open kitchen and set the heavy paper bags down on your kitchen island.

A sigh escaped you and you took a moment just to stand in your kitchen and take in the chaos around you. Half emptied moving boxes were strewn all around your living room, amidst not yet hanging shelves, plastic plants and several DIY projects. Another sigh left your lungs with a huff. Moving and starting anew had seemed like your only option a couple of weeks ago but now you dreaded the silence. You wanted this, ___, you thought. It was your decision.

Your new job was everything you ever hoped for, and training turned out to be smooth sailing. You loved it, you loved your apartment, even though it was far from being finished yet. But still, what you´d left behind still lingered in the back of your brain all too clearly at times. Especially when your heavy door closed behind you every evening and there was nothing but you, your DIY projects, an occasional phone call with your parents and then silence. Silence to wallow in, rake your brain and memories. Memories not even a good Podcast or music were able to drown out.

You weren´t as close with your colleagues yet as to be invited out to the pub after work but that was to be expected. The chances were good though. Maybe just a couple of days more and you´d have at least some kind of social interaction. One step after the other, you reminded yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Your own impatience with yourself was yet again trying to make you feel like you´d made a mistake by moving. A humorless laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. Calm down, you thought. This is your life, your pace. Relax.

A couple of minutes later your food was stored away, veggies and salmon steaming away and finally you sat down on your couch, glass of wine in hand and Netflix on your TV.

“Bloody hell” you cursed as a shot of adrenalin set your brain into overdrive. Your bag. You jumped off your couch and hurried over to the door. Swinging it open with a yank you initially thought someone had put out the lights in the corridor. All you saw was black and not a second later you collided with something solid.

Shaking your head, you realized three things. It was 7 o´clock on a warm day in July, so it couldn’t be dark out already. Your hallway had several windows and yes, the sun was still out. The black wall you just ran into turned out to be a massive chest.

Heat was ascending your neck as you took a small step back and lifted your head to look at the face this quite impressive physique belonged to. What the…?

Before you stood a man, several inches taller than you, frozen in place with his arm lifted as if he was just about to knock on your door. He looked down on you with impressive, hazel eyes. Honey blond, tousled hair adorned his head, falling slightly onto his forehead, wet tips clinging to his temples and a bead of sweat disappearing behind his ear. But that was about all you could make out.

Seeing people wearing a facemask had of course not been an unusual sight for the last three years but he wasn´t wearing one of those surgical ones. His nose, mouth and chin were covered in thick, black material, even spanning over his cheekbones and disappearing behind his ears. When your eyes caught his again you saw them narrowing just slightly and one blond eyebrow ticking upwards.

Something wriggly moved inside your belly.

The man slowly lowered his arm, simultaneously lifting the other slightly, holding out your bag.

“This yours?” a deep, calm voice broke through the silence and the wriggly something inside you spread out towards your chest, down your arms and into your fingertips. You swallowed, trying to gather your wits again.

“Uhm…yes. Yes, that´s mine. Forgot about it” you said with a nervous laugh as you took it from him. He hummed deep inside his chest in understanding. The sound only letting your eyes snap onto his again trying to decipher if the squinting was an annoyed one or an amused one.

Amused, as it turns out. He took a deep breath, the black material of his running shirt as you now realized it was, stretching across the expanse of his chest.

“You know, that´s how you get your identity stolen. Or at least your wallet.” Yeah, there was no question now, he was grinning behind his mask, his tone mildly rebuking but not at all belittling.

A small smirk of your own crawled onto your lips as you cocked out your hip and nodded your head.

“You´re absolutely right, Sir. I´ll cuff my bag to my wrist from now on so this inconvenience shall not occur to you a second time.” You want to be cocky, mister? Fine with me.

Your answer made him chuckle. It was short but genuine. One hand in his pocket he stepped back slightly and only now did you notice the heat that his body had emitted. With one last narrow of his eyes, making the edges crinkle ever so slightly he answered. “Not an inconvenience, Miss. Have a good evening.” He nodded once and walked away to your right.

“Y-you too” you cursed the way your words tumbled. To your surprise he halted in front of the door next to yours and your heart jumped into your throat as he took out his keys. Your eyes still fixed onto his side profile (you still couldn’t really make out any features), he gave you one last look before opening his door.

“And thank you” you rushed out.

He only lifted one hand to give you a small little wave that seemed way too juvenile for a man of his stature and closed his door.

Kind of shellshocked you turned around yourself and let your door fall shut behind you. Clutching onto your bag you didn’t even notice how long you were just standing in your hallway, trying to sort out the wriggling nerves. Who was that? Idiot. Your neighbor. Your neighbor that you´d never seen before. A man like him you´d remember seeing. There´d never been any noise from the apartment next to yours so you just thought it was either a very quiet tenant or one that only went there to sleep.

Sitting down on your couch again you stared at the wall behind your TV. He was behind that wall, doing…things. Existing. Why did that feel so exciting to you? Maybe it was just because that´d been your first real social interaction apart from talking to your colleagues?

Laughing incredulously at yourself you buried your burning face in your hands and giggled. No. No that wasn’t it and you knew it. It was stupid. So very stupid and weird and nerdy and…that damn mask!!

“Whhhyyyy…..?” you moaned grinning and rubbed your temples, finally letting all the pent up adrenalin and endorphins rush through your blood stream unstopped. What was it about men wearing those damn masks? Not being able to fully see their face. Having to find out what there was to them by just their actions.

The fist time you really thought you´d lost your mind was when you actually developed a burning crush on a literal tin can from the Star Wars universe. Oh yeah, sure. Give me a brooding, sarcastic, overworked loner with PTSD and give him a freaking child to protect. Watch him become a devoted, loving single parent. Of course! Yes, let me thirst after him. And did it stop there? Of course not. The pandemic hit and the lockdown had everyone in a chokehold.

The only chokehold you wanted to be in at the time however was one carried out by a video game character called Ghoul from “Call of Obligation”. Tatted up, burly, sharp, dutiful, loyal and fucking hot.

The only thing you were able to see of him? His eyes. Just his eyes and an occasional forearm here and there. Everything else covered in tactical gear and a scary facemask. God that character haunted your dreams almost every night. And now, you had his existing, breathing, heat emitting, real human equivalent living next to you. You felt your insides burn as another funny noise came from your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. Why was half a visible face or even less, so damn attractive to you?

“Shit must be some kind of kink” you murmured to yourself as you reached for your wine glass.

Why was he wearing that mask anyway? People weren´t obligated to wear one anymore. Was it some kind of training technique while running?

Anyhow, you appreciated the encounter. Your mood instantly better even though the both of you hadn’t talked much at all. He seemed witty. Cocky almost and you liked that.

Emptying your wine, you put the glass back in the dishwasher and walked over to your bathroom when you heard it. The shower in the next apartment was running. Immediately you halted all movement and tried to not even breath. The situation seemed so delicate, like thin glass ready to break. You stared at the wall when something else caught your ears.

No. Did you hear this right? Was he…?

You walked carefully over to your shower and stepped in. Trying not to care about how crazy you must look at this moment, you turned your head to the wall slightly, closed your eyes and listened as hard as you could. There it was.

Low, melodic and absolutely captivating. Over the sound of the water hitting the tile you heard your neighbor singing. Your forehead hit the tile and you breathed as quietly as possible, marveling in the baritone sweetness that could be heard through the wall. All too soon, about a minute later it was over. The water was shut off, the singing stopped.

As if in trance you got your nighttime routine going and a couple minutes later, slid into bed. Knowing where his bathroom was now, you were positive that his bedroom had to be next to yours as well. You tried to hear more, but nothing else penetrated the walls. It made you glad actually. If you would be able to hear him in his bedroom, sleep would turn out to be an impossibility to achieve.

This way, you closed your eyes, got comfortable and let your thoughts drift and wander. Not long after, you were dead asleep. Your dreams yet again haunted, but now, the usual scary mask of Ghoul was replaced with a solid black one and instead of clawing at a fully clothed head between your legs, your fingers tangled into soft honey blond curls.

_____________________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

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shares-a-vest · 10 months

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'i have writer's block', i say as i go back to a little ficlet i've had sitting in my drafts for months and immediately turn into 1.4k...

Summer, 1995

Wayne Munson's hearing isn't what it used to be, but he is almost certain he can hear a steady stream of cooing sounds coming from Eddie's bedroom.

He frowns and looks at his watch.

It's only 6:30am.

He yawns at the early hour as he shuffles to the kitchen for his prized coffee pot. And gosh darn it, he thinks. He really didn't want to be on a shiftwork sleep schedule while the boys are visiting with his granddaughter.

"Joanie-Bear..."

"Joanie-Bolonge..."

Yep – that is definitely Eddie with one of his silly pet names and a high-pitched sing-song voice.

Wayne can't help but stifle a chuckle as he fetches a clean mug from the drying rack on the sink. He's never known Eddie to wake up this early. Not even back when Steve moved in with his militant morning routine of jogging-showering-breakfast, all before Eddie's third alarm finally rustled him semi-conscious.

He sets his mug down with a clang on the bench as the incessant beeping of Eddie's blasted wristwatch sounds through his waning eardrums. He wishes he'd never bought the thing (in his futile efforts to make his nephew punctual) in the first place.

But the distant memory of Eddie's useless watch is quickly replaced with the disgruntled wailing of Joanie – a living, breathing tiny-human alarm that will surely be more than effective in getting his nephew up at a decent hour. For the next few years, at least.

He foregoes a courteous knock and opens the bedroom door to find Eddie sitting at the end of the bed with Steve in his lap as they both look into the crib that contains the source of the ruckus.

"What are you boys doing?" Wayne asks with fond amusement.

"Saying good morning to the light of our lives," Steve says, all syrupy-sweet as he reaches down and makes a shushing noise.

Wayne steps closer, smiling as he catches sight of his granddaughter.

"Hey, darling."

Joanie smiles so wide her eyes crinkle up, cheeks growing rosier as she kicks her feet with such vigour she could tear straight through her yellow onesie.

"We were basking in the peace and quiet," Eddie explains with an adoring sigh, "Gotta relish it before this little bean starts going about her busy day of toddling, talking and getting stinky."

"Talking?" Wayne is very much aware he sounds disappointed.

"Bee-shabba-fur," Eddie turns to Steve with complete seriousness, punctuating his babble-talk with a hand flourish.

"Eepa-nann-ca," Steve agrees, nodding up at Wayne like he is supposed to chime in.

He smiles, "I don't think you should be accusing anyone of being stinky, Eddie. I remember you at her age all too clearly."

His nephew frowns and hides behind Steve's shoulder to shield himself from any more barbs, even though his boy claps a hand over his own mouth to contain his laughter.

"A... app-ess," Joanie babbles and excitedly kicks her feet again.

"That means applesauce," Steve nods as Joanie starts grumbling again and makes grabby hands in the air.

"Looks like she's expecting that applesauce right now," he warns the pair as he scoops her up.

"But – " Steve protests.

"Shh," Eddie cuts him off as his eyes get all droopy, "Let him take her."

Wayne rolls his eyes.

Alright, so maybe Eddie still isn't a morning person. Parenthood has just forced it on him.

"Come on, kid," he says as his granddaughter cranes her neck to look out expectantly at the kitchen.

Although he is thrilled to have a whole two weeks with the boys and Joanie, the trio being back in Hawkins means that Wayne has to share them with others, including the Hendersons. Call him selfish, but he'd much prefer to just stay at home all day than pack half the house into the car for the short trip across town for lunch.

As Steve opens the car door to sit with Joanie, she grumbles and squirms, whipping her head about. Wayne dips his head to get a look at the fuss she beams, making an eh noise at the sight of him. He barks a laugh as she swivels to look at her father, her hair fashioned into two not-so-small buns giving her a disproportionate bobblehead.

"You want Pa to sit with you?" Steve asks the kid.

She shoots Steve a look like she is desperate for him to vacate the seat.

"You drive," Wayne nods, ensuring they arrange something before Eddie insists on driving.

He really doesn't feel like getting car sick before a Claudia Henderson-catered lunch.

With Steve safely driving, and Eddie being distracted by some local council drama playing out over the talk-back hour on the radio, Wayne can relax.

That is until he feels a little paw clawing at his hand.

"You wanna hold my hand," he asks Joanie as he offers his palm.

"Eh-ep...ish," she stutters out all spittle-filled.

"That means 'yes please'," Eddie chimes, leaning into the crackling radio as he scoffs at the disc jockey's quip.

Wayne chuckles, "Figured that."

He looks down to find Joanie now tracing the many lines on his palm. She's in a state of deep concentration, leaning as far forward as her car seat straps will allow as she goes.

She soon takes his thumb in her hand, clenching her fist around it as she grows tired, most likely due to the bumps in the road interrupting her tracing game rather than any actual sleepiness. Wayne can feel her soft fingertips press against the callous on his knuckle. She freezes and unfurls her hand to examine it.

She looks up with the same confused frown Eddie always had as a kid, her big brown eyes clearly expressing thoughts that she can't yet put into words. But she is most definitely thinking away in that little noggin.

She presses her forefinger to the callous to poke at it.

"Got a lot of those, I'm afraid," he explains, "Too tough for your hands."

She looks him over, eyes darting about as she opens her mouth like she is readying herself to respond.

For a moment, he thinks she might not have a damn clue, but then she takes his thumb again and pulls it close. He has to shift a little so his hand isn't twisting on the edge of the baby seat but sure enough, Joanie holds his hand for the remainder of the ride.

When they reach the Hendersons, Claudia announces she already has lunch well underway. She and Wayne think alike when Joanie is around. Rush through all that boring grown-up stuff to get straight to playtime with the kid.

Steve is going about his usual routine, carrying his daughter around the house to give her a tour while the others make the finishing touches on lunch.

Though Wayne is sure Eddie and Dustin are each sneaking samples and more getting in the way than actually helping. He smirks at the sound of something clanging in the kitchen and Claudia giving a scolding, "Dusty!" as he rounds the corner to the dining room.

Steve is walking around the table with Joanie in his arms, counting the chairs aloud. But Joanie isn't listening. She spots Wayne and beams.

"Pa!"

His heart stops – or maybe it swells.

Joanie outstretches her hands as she tries to wiggle out of her father's grip. And Steve, the poor boy, looks shell-shocked. He blinks, eyes as wide as Claudia's special-occasion dinner plates.

"Eh-Eddie!" Steve half stutters, half shrieks as tears begin to well up.

"What, what, what?" his nephew panics, walking in from the kitchen cradling a gravy boat like his hands are too full for anything else.

He walks right up to Steve and practically hooks his chin on his shoulder. Eddie frowns at his partner. And Joanie just keeps squirming, now turning her attention to her father.

"Pa!" she whines through a frustrated little hiccup as she points across the room.

Eddie yelps and cups a hand over his mouth.

Thankfully, Wayne doesn't hear the sound of the gravy boat dropping onto the freshly-vacuumed carpet. He doesn't even look to make sure. He's far too focused on his granddaughter.

"She said her first word," Steve whispers like he has a frog in his throat.

Joanie did say her first word.

Wayne's granddaughter said her first word.

And her first word referred to him.

Her Pa.

His bottom lip wobbles as they lock eyes once more.

But the moment is short-lived as the kid resumes wriggling about, pushing against Steve's possessive hold with some real force this time as she balls up a fistful of her father's pale blue polo shirt.

"Pa!" she dry-sobs.

Wayne shakes his head and steps forward. He'll have to save the serious emotions and a doting session with the boys for later if they want to avoid a catastrophic meltdown right now. He beams as he rushes the couple of strides it takes to reach his cranky granddaughter, who remains completely unaware of the marvel that has everyone at a useless standstill.

"Better do as she says," he laughs, taking her from Steve.

The boy has no choice but to give her up.

Joanie almost jumps into his embrace as she hooks her arms in a vice-like grip around his neck. Wayne looks at the boys, apologetic as he bounces his granddaughter.

Not that she needs settling now, anyway.

More of this au HERE

#haven't written something for this au for a while #woke up at 4am and decided to finish this #steddie as girl-dads #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #wayne munson #claudia henderson #dustin henderson #lily writes a fic

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augustinewrites · 1 year

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@sunasbabie — for last year’s bday, christmas, and new years gift bcs ily or whatever 🙄

suna used to have a really nice denim jacket.

it was made of black denim, bought from some american brand that cost him way more than he’d care to admit. he loved that jacket— he’d worn it over t-shirts in the summer and thick hoodies in the winter. he’d been wearing it on the day of onigiri miya’s grand opening and the day he’d signed with ejp.

he’d also happened to be wearing it the night he met you.

he remembers seeing you the night of atsumu’s new year’s eve party. remembers thinking that your dress was highly impractical because it was sequined and backless but damn— you looked good.

and no matter what osamu thinks he remembers, it did not take him so long to talk to you because he was feeling shy. he was just giving the other guys at the party a chance, is all. he’s nice like that.

atsumu, the drunken idiot that he was, had ended up dragging everyone up onto the roof of his apartment for the countdown. and you, idiot that you were, started shivering 15 seconds into the count, suna watching as you’d rubbed your arms for warmth and and suddenly turned to face, as if you’d felt him watching.

with 30 seconds to midnight and a shove from osamu, he’s closing the distance between you both to say hi. you have his jacket draped over your shoulders by midnight. just because he’s nice like that, not because he’s silently marking his territory and telling potential suitors to fuck off.

he even lets you leave with it, but not before exchanging numbers so you can return it as soon as possible. which you do, showing up at his place the next afternoon, his jacket washed and folded neatly in your arms, offering to buy him lunch as a thanks.

you’re the one wearing it, four months later, when he asks you to be his girlfriend. because ‘it’s just so windy out, rin. you don’t want my dress flying up, right?’

on cooler days, he’s almost sure you forego your own jacket just so you can steal his, and he lets you. you wear it draped over your shoulders when you walk back to his place after a movie. you use it as a blanket during longer car rides. there’s this fatal bug in suna’s system, and it doesn’t let him tell you ‘no.’

you’re wearing it the day you move in. he wasn’t going to make you unpack all your clothes just to find a jacket to wear to lunch.

you’d spent three years stealing that jacket. the denim is soft and well-worn, with a tear or two in the hem, but you love it. and he loves that it still smells like your perfume on the odd day he gets to wear it himself.

maybe that’s why it hurt so much, watching you brush your fingers over it as you pack away your clothes. you’d left every every t-shirt of his you’d slept in, every hoodie you’d claimed, in what was now his closet again.

but for this, you hesitate. a dull ache throbs between his ribs as he watches you hug the fabric to your chest, eyes fluttering shut.

“just take it,” he’d told you quietly from the doorway. “i don’t want it anymore.”

suna used to have a really nice denim jacket.

_____

it’s almost six months later when you call him for the first time since the breakup.

suna has to do a double take when he sees your contact. mostly because three in the morning and no one should be awake at this hour, but also because he can’t believe it’s you.

his brain and his heart are at a crossroads. he shouldn’t answer. you probably hit the wrong contact. you have other friends in the city, surely you would call one of them if you needed something.

but there’s that flaw again, and suna hits accept.

“hello?”

“rin? rin! hi.”

he sits up in the darkness at the sound of your slurring. “are you drunk?”

“no,” you lie, even hiccuping a little. “i just…i really just wanted to tell you—”

you cut yourself short, sighing. “that you did really good during your game last week.”

he raises his brows slightly, chuckling. “you were watching?”

“no,” you say again, much too quickly. “i just…heard.”

“i know what you sound like when you’re lying,” he reminds you, sliding out of bed and pulling on a hoodie. “and i also know what you sound like when you’re drunk. stay where you are, i’m gonna pick you up.”

you send him your location right away, and he drives over. he calls you to let you know he’s there, because he’s sure you’re not gonna hear your text tone, and when you step out of the bar—

he sees that you’re wearing his jacket.

that damn black denim jacket, american label and all. it hangs off your shoulders loosely, and when suna gets out of the car, he grabs the collar, pulling you closer and pretending not to notice the way you inhale sharply. ignoring your wide-eyed stare as he adjusts the jacket, doing up the buttons because he knows you’re gonna complain about the night chill.

“c’mon,” he says, pulling open the passenger door. “get inside, dumbass.”

the cute pout that downturns your lips is just like suna remembers. he closes the door after you, rounding to the other side of the car.

“did you tell your friends you’re getting home safe?” he asks as he reaches across you to put on your belt. “how come none of them came to get you?”

“oh, uh, yeah i called them but they weren’t answering,” you tell him. “i’ll call them now, just in case.”

suna watches as you fumble with your phone, tapping back and forth through the phone app until he grabs it from your hands with a sigh. he has no idea which one of your friends you’d called, so he goes to your recents.

only to see that he’s the only one you’d called tonight.

#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

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I see you’re open for requests 😍 Could you write Aemond x Reader who is his childhood best friend (she could be like a commoner or a servant) I’m not sure about the plot…thought you might have some ideas, it could be angst and end with fluff 😚

Love, love, love this request! Thanks so much, nonnie, I hope you enjoy 💚

Aemond x Reader

rating: mentions of Aemond's eye injury, some angst & fluff

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

You opened the door to Prince Aemond’s chamber, sticking your small head inside. The room was dark aside from the beams of sunlight that shone through the gossamer curtains. The breeze made them dance across the floor.

“Prince Aemond?” you called, in a voice squeaking with nerves. There was no reply. You knew the young prince was supposed to be at the dragonpit, but something inside of you begged you to check. After assuming the coast must be clear, you entered, bringing with you your bucket.

It was your job to replenish the fireplaces in the chambers of the royal families. You were still a small child, and this was the task that suited you best. You could enter any room in the Red Keep practically unnoticed.

You walked over to his fireplace, getting started right away. You were eager to finish the job and be off before the prince returned. Digging through the soot, you cleared the ashes, placing fresh logs atop. When your work looked decent, you stood, brushing the soot from your hands onto the apron you wore.

A breeze tore through the room through the open windows, sending several papers scattering from the prince’s desk. You rushed to collect them, taking care to not stain the pages with soot. As you placed them on the desk you couldn’t help but admire the pages of one of the many books that lay open.

It was the drawing of a dragon that caught your eye, with descriptions and arrows pointing at various parts of the creature's body. You squinted at the pages in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

You nearly jump out of your skin as you turn wide-eyed to face Prince Aemond. Eyes wide, mouth gasping like a fish out of water, you do not answer him. Aemond raises a brow, looking from you to the book.

“Were you reading?”

You find your voice.

“N-no! No, my prince,” you stutter, feeling your cheeks warm. You desperately hope the soot from the fire hides the rosy flush.

“Do not lie, I saw you,” Aemond says, as though he is your father, not someone the same age as you.

“I wasn’t my prince,” you tell him, “I cannot read.”

Aemond’s face scrunches at this. He walks over to you then, pulling the book from his desk. He holds it across his chest, to face you.

“What does it say?”

Your lip wobbles. Embarrassment fills you and burns your insides like a fever. Surely, he means to humiliate you.

“I do not know, my prince.”

He brings a finger under a word.

“Balerion,” he says, looking at the page and back to you.

“Balerion,” you repeat, earning a nod.

Aemond traces the letter at the beginning of the word.

“That's a B,” he tells you, violet eyes meeting yours.

From then on you found yourself lingering in Aemond’s chambers when you went to do your daily task. Each day he would show you something new, different words, different letters, the names of great houses and maidens in songs.

Aemond and you became fast friends. Slowly, he was teaching you how to read. You enjoyed the company of the prince. He was patient with you and seemed to enjoy being able to teach you. Aemond did not have friends, and he was happy to have you.

Soon, you were both reading books together every chance you had. In the library, in the gardens. Aemond would even forego the Dragonpit to join you on your rounds to the other chambers of the Red Keep, book in tow.

When the royal family went to Driftmark for the funeral of Laena Velaryon, you found yourself missing the company of your new friend.

You heard what had happened before the royal family returned. You found yourself shaking with nerves once more when entering the prince’s chambers.

“Prince Aemond?” you called, opening the door. You could see his small body, tangled in the sheets. The curtains were drawn completely shut. You entered slowly, tip-toeing.

“Aemond?” you called to your friend. The bed rustled, but he did not respond. Assuming he was not up for visitors, you went about your duties. When you had finished, you glanced towards the bed once more.

“Aemond?” you tried once more, hearing a sniffle in response. You placed your bucket down and walked towards him. A book lay on the floor, seemingly tossed from the side. You gently picked it up.

“I can’t,” Aemond whimpered, sniffling once more. He turned his head and your eyes widened at the state of him. The stitches across his face were red and swollen, his functioning eye was wet with tears. His whole face was an angry shade of red.

“I can’t even read,” he sobbed, fingers clutching the sheets, “I’m fucking pathetic.”

Wet tears rolled down his face, snot leaking from his nose. The pillow he lies on is damp from his crying.

You bring a hand to his shoulder and he flinches away from your touch. Aemond feels as though his shame is fire beneath the surface of his skin, threatening to boil him alive.

“I shall read to you,” you whispered. Aemond looked at you through his tears. His hands begin to shake.

“Here,” you told him, placing the book in his lap before walking to the other side of the bed. You climbed onto the linens sitting next to Aemond. Taking the book from his lap you turned the page.

“The days before the Doom were quiet, though legends say this was an omen of death.” you began, as Aemond rested his head against your shoulder.

“I want you to come see,” Aemond says, when you enter his chambers. He pulls the pail from your grasp, lacing his hand in yours. You have never seen him so elated, his smile is blinding.

He pulls you from the room, dragging you down the halls of the keep until you reach a large window facing Blackwater Bay.

“Look,” he says, pointing in the distance. You squint, the sun reflecting off of the bay nearly blinding you. Suddenly, you feel the castle shudder, it's as though again it has fallen down the serpentine steps.

Vhagar flies overhead, out towards the bay. She lets out a roar, powerful wings causing the waves of the bay to change direction.

“She’s mine,” he tells you, giddy with excitement.

Your eyes are like saucers. You’ve never seen a larger dragon.

“She’s amazing,” you admit, feeling a pang of jealousy. Now Aemond shall take to the skies, leaving you alone in the castle once more.

You want to hate Vhagar for stealing your only friend, but you can’t seem to find it in your heart to hate the magnificent creature.

Aemond’s hand still holds yours, you can feel your palm begin to sweat with the realization. He tears his gaze from Vhagar to look at you. The stitches have been removed from his face, the skin is now turning into a pearl-colored scar across his face.

“Now we can fly,” he tells you, the grin never leaving his face. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“We?”

Aemond’s smile falters for a moment, his eyebrows crease together.

“You and I, when mother allows it,” he tells you, “Vhagar can carry many books, and we can fly to anywhere in the seven kingdoms.

Your smile matches his. He has not intended to leave you behind.

“I would like that, my prince.”

~years later~

You do not announce when you enter Aemond’s room now. Being friends for so long has awarded you that right. You have grown alongside him, rising in the ranks from lowly fireplace servant to chambermaid.

Aemond is awake when you enter, as he often is. He has most likely already been to the training yard that morning before you arrived. While you detest early mornings, Aemond loves them.

“Good morning, my prince,” you address formally, carrying new bedsheets. Aemond’s mouth twists from where he sits at his desk.

“Ao issi biare tubī,” he says, barely looking up from his work. (You are happy today).

You begin to strip the bed.

“You’ll have to teach me sooner or later,” you tell him, and make a face, pausing your movements to glance at him.

“What?” he inquires. His gaze has risen from his desk, a sly smile on his face. Aemond’s eyepatch is missing, he rarely wears it in his chambers (or around you) and the sight of the blue sapphire never fails to take your breath away.

You narrow your eyes at your friend.

“Teach me,” you demand, crossing your arms in front of you. Aemond cocks his head to the side.

“Unwise to command a prince,” he teases, piling his papers away and rising from his desk. He walks over to you.

“Oh come now, Aemond,” you pouted, causing him to chuckle.

“Teach me.”

Aemond bites the inside of his cheek. It is as though you are children again. You, a curious little creature peering over the knowledge he possesses.

“Fine,” he agrees, “since you asked so sweetly, gevie.” (beautiful).

You swat at his arm, a blush creeping up your cheeks. Though you were close companions you could not help the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when he talked to you in such a manner.

“What’s that mean?” you inquire, “Gevie?”

Aemond lets the word hang in the air for a moment, enjoying the way his mother tongue falls from your lips.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and the heat in your face nearly sets you ablaze.

“Me?” you ask and Aemond lets out a real laugh then, from deep within his chest.

“Of course you,” he tells you, “only you.”

#aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond angst #aemond fic #sapphire answers

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