#and when the other 2 get back he's like 'hello this is my little brother :)' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellecdc · 5 months ago

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✋🏻 i have a request

so i’m a loudmouth, a D1 yapper if you will. could you maybe please write something with a yapper reader who just gets quiet and flustered in regulus’s presence?

like she’ll be going on about the randomest thing and regulus walks by and her mouth snaps shut and her face gets bright red.

hiiiii! I decided to pair this with two anonymous requests for our dear reggie too! prompt 2: I was thinking maybe a Potter! Reader who is in the same year as Regulus and has a huge crush on him, she just kind of watches him from a distance, here comes James and Sirius noticing and they try to set her up with Reggie prompt 3: I was wondering if I could get a regulus x reader where regulus is like close to the marauders and then Reggie gains like a crush on reader and the marauders find out and like kinda spy on them but like not well and maybe it ends in Reggie asking reader out

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who has a 'big fat crush' on Reggie

CW: sibling squabbles, this was hard for me to write for some reason so I'm sorry if it reads awkwardly!

“I’m just saying, if you didn’t want your essay to go up in flames, maybe you should have spent less time talking about which of your classmates were ‘filthy blood traitors’, and more time making sure I couldn’t point my wand at your parchment, you know?” You asked rhetorically as James and Sirius roared with laughter.

“How far along was he in his essay?” Peter asked with a low chuckle before taking another bite of his lunch.

“Oh, he was done. He probably should have handed it in instead of running his mouth.” You said with a proud smirk as your brother roughly patted you on the back, letting out another bark of laughter.

“I would have paid good money to see the look on his face.” Sirius said as he wiped fake tears away from under his eyes.

“Find me a pensieve, Black, and I’ll show you.” You offered with a wink before remembering something. “Oh! James, I meant to tell you; I heard from Janey who heard from Cromwell who heard from Collins whose sister works at Honeydukes that they’re having a sale on those caramel sugar quills that-”

“-Lily likes so much!” James finished for you. “My hero! Thank you!” He said as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your head.

You feigned disgust and rubbed it off before continuing. “If you want, I can ask Janey to ask Cromwell to ask Collins to ask his sister to put some aside for you?”

“I’d owe you my life.” He responded solemnly.

“Chocolate frogs will suffice.”

“Consider it done.”

“I’d like chocolate frogs too, Prongs.” Remus offered then.

“What have you done to help me win over the girl of my dreams, Moony?” James countered.

“I’ve not told her about the time you screamed like an ickle little first year when you found Fenwick’s toad in your shoe.” Remus replied plainly.

“Why do they have to have warts!?” James groaned miserably as he remembered his toad assault.

“The bumps aren’t actually warts, Jamie; they’re glands. They contain a toxin that they will secrete if they feel threatened.” You explained.

James blinked at you owlishly before shaking his head in disgust. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Hello, Sirius.” Regulus’ voice interrupted then, standing stiffly behind Sirius as he looked around the group of you. “Lupin, Pettigrew…Potter’s.”

“‘Sup, Reggie?” Sirius responded easily.

“‘Lo, baby Black! What brings you to the red side of the Great Hall?” James asked then, earning him a glare from the younger Black brother.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well that just makes me want to call you that even more.” James admitted.

“What brings you to the Gryffindor table?” Remus repeated with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t I just come say hello to my brother?” He asked defensively.

“You could, but would you?” Sirius asked sceptically then.

Sirius and Regulus stared at each other in silence before Regulus finally sighed.

“Potter, erm… Y/N, I was wondering if you’ve finished Professor Sprout’s essay about the proper propagation of venomous tentacula’s?”

At the following silence, James turned to notice you staring at Regulus in what appeared to be abject horror before you slowly nodded your head.

“How, uhm… how many feet of parchment did it end up being?” Regulus continued awkwardly; his eyes flitting between you and his brother.

The group watched as you opened your mouth a few times only to close it again - not unlike some socially awkward fish - before clearing your throat.

“Erm…I think it’s about four feet.”

Regulus seemed relieved by your answer and nodded in understanding. “Good, mine is about that as well.”

James looked between his friends, his sister, and his best friend’s little brother after a few moments when it became clear that no one was going to say anything else.

“Was…was that all, Regulus?” Peter asked then, clearly agreeing with James that lunch had quickly become painfully awkward.

Regulus seemed to look at you first, only responding when you kept your gaze down at the wood grain of the table.

“I suppose so. I’ll see you lot around.”

And with that, the Slytherin boy hurried back to his side of the Great Hall.

James’ eyes only left Regulus’ form when he heard a miserable groan escape your lips as you let your head fall to the table with a thunk.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius and James questioned at the same time.

“I’ve gotta go.” You muttered miserably as you gathered your bag and stood from the Gryffindor bench.

“Where?!” James called after you.

“To run away with the fucking centaurs at this point!” You called back before disappearing through the doors.

“Since when does Regulus come to say hi to you, Pads?” Peter asked then, still watching Regulus from across the hall who now had his eyes glued to the door.

Sirius, who up until that point looked just as bemused as Peter did, had a look of understanding dawn on his face.

“Merlin’s beard.” He hissed as he smacked James in the arm from across the table.

“Ow! What? What? Why are you hitting me?” James called as he rubbed his arm protectively.

“When was the last time you saw Y/N be reduced to awkward silence?” He asked then.

“At mum and dads fundraising gala when that wizard from Witch Weekly attended.” James answered quickly; knowing that one of his sister’s greatest strengths was her ability to talk (especially when it helped get them all out of trouble). “Though she’s been doing it an awful lot lately.”

“Like when you coerced Regulus into joining us at the Three Broomsticks last weekend.” Remus offered.

James nodded. “And when I made her come with me to scout the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin game last Monday.”

“And when Regulus just happened to be looking for a Herbology textbook when she was studying in the Herbology section of the library.” Remus continued.

“Godric’s balls.” Peter breathed out, looking towards Sirius incredulously. “You’re not suggesting-”

“-that our littlest Potter has a big fat crush on the littlest Black? I sure am.” Sirius said smugly.

“I don’t think she’s the only one with a ‘big fat crush’.” Remus added, nodding towards Regulus who was chewing aggressively on his lip, still looking in the direction you just went.

“Oh my Godric.” James hissed as he turned towards Sirius excitedly. “Oh my Godric, Pads! We’d be real life actual brother’s-in-law!”

“I’m going to walk Reggie down the aisle.” Sirius added wistfully as he clutched at his chest.

“Merlin and Morgana. They can’t even make it through a sodding conversation; stop planning their wedding.” Remus muttered as he turned a page in his book.

James let out an incredibly dramatic gasp as he looked at Remus. “You’re right. We have to do something!”

“What do you say, boys? Up for some mischief for the greater good?” Sirius asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Operation turn Potter Black!” James cheered to the group, causing the three boys to look at him in various levels of bemusement and discomfort.

“Erm, Prongs…” Peter started.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Remus added.

“We can’t call it that.” Sirius agreed.

“We’ll circle back to it.” James said as he stood from the table.

Sirius shared a slightly panicked look with the other two Marauders before standing as well. “No…no James, we really can’t call it that.”

“It’ll be a placeholder until you guys think of something better!”

“Anything would be better.” Peter whined as they all trailed out of the Great Hall in the name of mischief.

。.。:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:。.。.。:+*ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+*ﾟ

“Quick! You’ve got to see what we’ve planned.” James had said to you as he grabbed you roughly by your arm outside of Transfiguration and hauled you in the direction of the library.

You allowed him to nearly drag you through the courtyard and into the central haul; apologising to students that you nearly collided with in his haste.

“But…what did McLaggen do? Why are you pranking him?” You asked breathlessly as the two of you made it to the library doors.

“The bloke’s a prick, Trouble, do keep up.” Sirius called as you met up with him.

The two boys ushered you through stacks of books towards the end of the library that held private study rooms when Remus and Peter materialised from a row of shelves.

“He’s coming!” Peter squeaked as Remus quickly redirected the three of you.

“That way, quickly.”

Knowing better than to question Remus, you allowed James to guide you by the shoulder towards one of the private study rooms in order to hide from McLaggen as he walked into their trap.

Except…

Except no sooner had Sirius opened the door did James bodily shove you into the room before they slammed the door behind you.

“Wha- James!” You shouted as you heard him cast a locking charm and a muffliato around the door.

“What are they up to now?” A tired voice sounded from behind you.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you realised what they had done, praying to every deity that the voice didn’t belong who you thought it belonged to.

But of course, the deities didn’t give a bowtruckles arse about you, so you turned on the spot to see Regulus Black sitting at the end of the table looking at you with a sceptical expression and one perfectly arched brow.

Godric, he was beautiful.

“Making my life hell.” You answered despondently.

Regulus offered you a tight lipped smile as he nodded in understanding. “Ah, so, regular brother stuff then?”

You breathed out a chuckle as you nodded, trying once more at the door before giving up in your efforts to escape.

“What did you do to get yourself locked in a room with me?” He asked then, fiddling with the tomes and notes in front of him.

“Had the audacity to be born into the Potter family, I guess.” You muttered.

Regulus made a non-committal sound as he considered you. “I’m sure a lot of people would have loved the honour.”

Your face softened as you looked at the Slytherin boy. “I know they’ve asked you already, but you should come, you know? I know Sirius would love it if you did, and my parents would too.”

Regulus nodded slowly at you, though he never moved his gaze from your eyes. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Regulus smiled ruefully then. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t get the impression that you like me very much.”

You stood there with your mouth agape like some mute opera singer. “Okay, I’ll correct you then; you’re very wrong Regulus Black.”

“Oh, I’m very wrong, am I?”

“Horribly so, I’m afraid; I can’t believe you’d even say such a thing.” You continued haughtily; finally sitting down in a chair across from him.

“Well, you see, everyone is always telling me how much of a chatterbox you are, yet you never seem too keen on chatting with me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve exchanged more words with Mulciber at this point.” He teased.

“The most I ever talk to Mulciber is to tell him to go fuck himself!”

A divot formed between his brows as he tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not just your love language? I’ve heard you say the exact same thing to Potter and my brother.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned back in your chair. “Touche”

Regulus smirked at you then. “So, why don’t you talk to me?”

You let out a heaving sigh and looked to the ceiling.

You were trapped, and you knew why you were trapped, and you figured there was no use in pretending that you didn’t.

“I suppose I find you a little…nerve wracking.” You settled for, figuring that telling him you thought he was so handsome that even standing within his vicinity seemed to short circuit not only your brain but somehow your entire nervous system would perhaps be a little much.

“Oh good.” He responded, sounding truly relieved by your answer. “I thought it was only me.”

What? You thought stupidly.

“What?” You asked stupidly.

“I find you a little nerve wracking too.” He responded.

“Me?”

“You.”

“Why?” You nearly shrilled before remembering yourself and feeling immediately embarrassed for your theatrics.

“Well, I suppose for the same reasons you find me nerve wracking?” Regulus offered. “You’re really quite pretty, Y/N.”

You swear to all of the gods that your brain made an audible record scratch sound at that moment as you tried to compute what he had said to you.

He called you pretty, that much went without interpretation. But did he just insinuate that he knew you thought he was pretty?

“You do know that, right?” He asked, shaking you from your internal spiralling.

“Know what?”

Regulus smirked then. “That you’re pretty?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms petulantly. “Of course I knew that; I just wasn’t aware that you did, too.”

“Ah,” He started with a smile. “My apologies, I’ll make it more obvious that I find you attractive going forward.”

“Thank you.” You huffed.

“You’re very welcome.”

The two of you allowed a semi-comfortable silence to lap as he continued watching you and you continued looking anywhere else but him.

“So,” He interrupted eventually. “What now?”

You tapped your arms in thought. “Now I figure out how to get back at my meddlesome brother.”

Regulus hummed as he nodded his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Yeah…hey, do you happen to know where I could find a toad or two?”

“Yes, actually. I’m quite certain Evan and Barty are breeding some in the dungeons.” He answered with a look of ill-hidden discomfort at the thought.

“Do you think they’d let me borrow some?”

“Well that depends; would they be used for chaos and/or destruction?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly.

“Oh, well then absolutely.” He quipped back.

He smiled and held your gaze before leaning on his arms against the table. “How about this? I’ll ask Barty and Evan for some of their toads, if you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend.”

You narrowed your eyes as you pretended to think about it before extending your hand across the table. “Deal.”

He shook your hand as he offered you a crooked smile before leaning back into his seat.

The door popped open just enough for your brother to poke his traitorous head in. “Are you guys in love yet?”

He barely had time to pull his head out of the frame and shut the door as you hurled your book bag at him; the blunt force instrument you had hoped would at the very least incapacitate your brother simply thudding against the wall before falling to the ground in a sad heap.

“You know he’s just going to keep you locked in here longer for that, right?” Regulus asked you then.

You made a non-committal sound as you settled back into your chair. “Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.”

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yikes-aemond · 4 months ago

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Hello!!!! How are you? Are you willing to do a Benjicot X Tully!Reader oneshot?

Benji being a little puppy in love with a serious, blunt, very introverted and book-loving Tully, since they were children, and that is the reason why he often bothered her. Tully! Reader has a habit of throwing things at his head when she loses her patience.

Many hugs 💖💖💖🤗🤗🤗

You can hear it in the silence.

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood (fancast!Kieran Burton) x Tully!fem!reader (no physical descriptions of reader)

warnings: none, pure fluff

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood meet as children and proceed to hate each other for years. Until one day, you didn't.

word count: 3.1k

author note: Thank you so much for the request! I’m sorry it took me a little while to complete it, but I hope I did your story idea justice. I’m hesitant to say this because I should be working on the next part of “I love you. It’s ruining my life.” but I have an idea for a part 2 to this story, so let me know if there is interest! Love you babes. Happy reading!

On your tenth name day, Benjicot Blackwood put a frog in your bed.

First light had not yet broken. You floated in that hazy space, not quite dreaming and not quite awake, content to stay beneath the warmth of your covers.

You had stayed up too late the night before. After stealing a half dozen honey cakes from the kitchens, you had wandered to the library, seeking comfort from the rows upon rows of books until the hour of the wolf ushered in your name day.

You did not recall how you made it from the library to your bed. Your father most likely.

Lord Elmo Tully was prone to sleepless nights, and often took to walking Riverrun at night to ease his troubles. On more than one occasion, he had found you face down on a study table, cheek pressed into the page of a book, after spending too many hours lost in tales of knights and princesses and children of the forest. And each time he found you, he would pick you up gently, careful not to wake you, and carry you back to bed.

Elmo Tully was not always the most present father. But he did not discourage your preferences for reading over needlework. He defended you when the Septa scolded you for ink-stained hands and unkempt dresses. And he did not try to force friendship between you and the other ladies your age.

You would not call yourself a lonely child. Although you often kept your own company, you did not mind the solitude, did not mind the quiet and peace compared to the noise and chatter that often accompanied children your own age. Sure, there were those in Riverrun who called you strange when they thought you and the rest of the Tullys were out of earshot, never daring to speak too loudly when your grandfather was the Lord Paramount.

Not that the whispers bothered you. As long as you had books and honey cakes, you were happy to be alone.

A fact that you were rudely reminded of when you rolled over in bed on the morning of your tenth name day, seeking out the touch of your favorite doll. But instead of feeling the soft, plush doll, you felt something slimy and cold and wet. And then you heard a distinct croak.

Screaming, you leapt out of bed, sheets twisting around your body. Frantic to get away from whatever creature had scurried into your bed. You landed on the floor with a harsh thud. From your vantage on the floor, you saw a frog leap from your bed toward the window on the far side of the room.

Frogs were not an uncommon sight at Riverrun. After all, your home was surrounded on all sides by rivers and moats and marshland. But never in your life had you heard of a frog sneaking into someone’s bed.

Only when you heard laughter on the other side of your chambers’ door did you realize what had happened.

You cheeks flashed hot as you picked yourself up off the floor. Seeing red, you threw the door open, a glare so disapproving on your face that it would have turned a lesser man to stone.

But not the idiots who stood before you.

Your brothers, Oscar and Kermit, were clutching onto each other, eyes nearly in tears from the force of their laughter. You would have words with them later. You knew the real culprit behind the prank.

Leaning against the wall with an insufferable smirk on his face was Benjicot Blackwood. Heir to Raventree Hall, your brothers’ best friend, and the bane of your existence.

“Something amiss, my lady?” He had the audacity to ask.

At the age of two and ten, Benjicot was tall for his age. He had not quite grown into himself, all long limbs and sharp angles. Despite his prowess with a dagger and sword, he had not yet matured out of his love for boyish pranks.

And he especially loved tormenting you.

Benjicot had no younger siblings. His aunt Alysanne was the closest relative to his age, but she had little patience for Benjicot, preferring her bow to most people. A sentiment you shared.

You first met Benjicot when you were seven, and he was nine. For the last three years, Benjicot had spent a few weeks in the high summer months as a ward at Riverrun, training and sparring and hunting with your brothers. The three were thick as thieves—Oscar and Kermit had loved Benjicot instantly. All close in age, all young and eager to prove themselves.

You had never been close with your brothers. You had little in common with them. But when Benjicot came to stay, and when you watched them laugh and joke and share secrets, you felt that sharp pang of otherness. Felt the sting of always being on the outside, both from your own family and the rest of those who resided at Riverrun.

And now he had dared to pull a prank on you on your name day.

“The only thing amiss is your presence here, Blackwood. Were you not supposed to return to Raventree Hall yesterday?”

Benjicot shrugged. “I wouldn't dream of missing your name day.”

You wanted to launch yourself at him, tackle him to the ground and remove that insufferable smirk from his face. You resisted the urge, but just barely.

“The best name day present you could have given me would have been your absence.” You sneered.

Huffing a laugh, Benjicot straightened and grabbed your brothers by the shoulder, nudging them away from your chambers. “Sorry to disappoint. I had rather hoped you would have liked the frog.”

Turning away from you and following your brothers, Benjicot called out over his shoulder, "Perhaps you should have kissed the frog, my lady. Could have turned it into a prince like in all those fairytales you love so much.”

You clenched your fists and tried to think of clever response. But nothing came to mind, so you settled for slamming your door closed. You could still hear the echo of their laughter in the hallway.

Back against the door, cheeks hot and flushed, you slid to the floor and wrapped your arms around your legs, bringing your knees to your chest.

It was not the first time Benjicot Blackwood made you cry.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore Benjicot during his yearly visits, you were never successful in escaping him. Every year he managed to find you, tease you, get under your skin and stay there.

There was the year he hid rotting fish in the floor boards of your chambers. The smell was so unbearable that you had to move rooms.

Or the time he startled you when you were helping a kitchen maid carry a sack of flour, sending the sack flying and leaving you looking like a ghost.

Passing you the salt instead of sugar for your tea, causing you to spew tea all over the dining table at breakfast.

Hiding your favorite books in the armory. (When you finally discovered the books, you chased Benjicot around the training yard, hurling the books at his head, much the amusement of your father and brothers.)

Sending you on false errands on supposed orders from your father, resulting in you interrupting a meeting of the River lords that left you so embarrassed and humiliated that you refused to come out of your chambers for three days.

Benjicot never went too far, never did anything so terrible as to warrant true ire from your father and grandfather. Each time you voiced your hatred for Benjicot and his pranks to them, begging them to send him back to Raventree Hall, they patted your head, said boys would be boys, and moved on.

With each passing year, your tolerance for the pranks grew less and less. Even if you had come to expect them.

So, on your fifteenth name day, you were not surprised when Benjicot sought you out in the library.

You knew he had arrived for his stay earlier in the day. He was delayed in returning to Riverrun this year—a skirmish with the Brackens had resulted in weeks of tension and negotiations amongst the River lords.

At seven and ten, Benjicot was nearly a man. He had grown into his height and filled out in his shoulders, lean and strong and, if rumors were to be believed, now lethal with a sword and dagger.

Never backed down from a challenge. Fearless in a fight. Ruthless to those who crossed him.

Your brothers, with all the cleverness in their heads, had nicknamed him Bloody Ben.

You could not quite merge the two Benjicots in your mind—the boy from your childhood who teased and taunted but was quick to laugh and joke, with the man who had taken his first kill with a smile on his face.

When Benjicot appeared before you, leaning over the table where you sat with your book, you were not sure what to make of him.

Snatching the book from your hands, you watched as his eyes skimmed the first few lines on the page, before he smirked down at you. “A romance? I did not take you for a simpering romantic.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the book back. “And I never took you for a deaf half-wit, Blackwood. I distinctly remember telling you at the last assize that I never wanted to see your face again.”

Last year’s assize had been rather uneventful. That is, until the closing feast when Benjicot had teased you relentlessly for reading a book at dinner that you felt compelled to throw the book at his head. Of course, you missed his head, instead hitting a poor servant who was tasked with carrying the roast pig, sending both the servant and pig to the floor.

Your father and grandfather had been less than pleased.

Benjicot looked at the ceiling to hide his amusement before glancing back at you. With a smile on his face, he said, “You wound me, my lady.”

You narrowed your eyes, shooting him a look of disbelief. “And you annoy me, my lord.”

Rather than be put out by that insult, Benjicot looked delighted. He leaned a little closer into your space, so much so that you felt the hair on your arms stand to attention, your skin turning to gooseflesh at his proximity.

For as much as you hated Benjicot, hated the way he teased you, hated the way he sometimes made you feel like an outsider in your own family, he was one of the most handsome boys you had ever met.

Dark, wavy hair that never seemed controlled. Eyes that turned green in the sunlight. A small scar on his upper lip that somehow made him look distinguished.

You hugged the book to your chest and tried not to fidget under his gaze. You exhaled slowly before asking, “Why are you here?”

Benjicot held your eyes for another beat before breaking the contact and straightening to his full height. Reaching into the pouch fastened at his hip, he said, “I have a present for you.”

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms. “I have never much cared for your presents. They tend to crawl or smell.”

Laughing, Benjicot pulled a necklace out of the pouch. “You will be pleased to know this gift neither crawls nor smells.”

You were stunned to say the least, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. You probably looked like a fish, but you could not help it.

The necklace was beautiful. A delicate, silver chain with two gemstones at the end. A mud-red ruby and a blue sapphire—the perfect representation of House Tully’s colors. Simple and elegant. You were at a loss for words, and you felt your cheeks flush at the gift.

Your heart skipped a beat as Benjicot approached you. The smile he was giving you was one you had never seen before—warm and soft. All traces of teasing gone from his demeanor.

He stopped just before you. Holding out the necklace for you to take, he asked, “Do you like it?”

You stood, heart hammering as you took the necklace from him. You turned the necklace over in your hands, admiring the detail in the braided chain and the quality of the stones. Your throat felt parched, but you managed to say, “It’s lovely.”

You glanced back up at Benjicot to find his eyes already on you, face closer to yours than you remembered. “I’m glad you like it, my lady.”

You had never seen Benjicot like this. Had never seen him be this sweet or shy before. You were not even sure he was capable of being sweet.

Of course, there were moments over the years when he had shown you kindness. He was not always playing the jester.

When you had twisted your ankle while walking in the godswood, Benjicot had insisted on carrying you to the maester, even when you protested that you were fine and perfectly capable of walking on your own.

When you had gotten sick with a fever two years ago, leaving you bedridden and delirious for weeks, Benjicot had brought you dozens of books from the library, anything to keep your mind sharp and spirit strong.

And when you had mentioned that your favorite sweet was honey cakes, Benjicot brought you a batch from the cooks at Raventree Hall, claiming that Raventree’s cakes were superior to all others. (They were.)

You had never felt more aware of yourself than you did at this moment, standing before Benjicot. You were in uncharted territory. Heart thumping in your chest. Palms beginning to sweat. Cheeks warm and flushed. You were nervous. And you had never been nervous in front of Benjicot before.

You smiled, small and shy and a little embarrassed. You did not know where you found the courage, and you could not hold his gaze, but you found yourself asking, “Will you put it on me?”

Benjicot’s smile widened, nodding eagerly as he took the necklace back, your hands brushing in the exchange. Only for a moment, but enough to send a small jolt through your arm.

You turned, giving him your back so that he could not see how deeply you were affected by the brief touch.

But with your back to him, you did not see how Benjicot looked at you. Did not see the way his eyes softened and traced your form. Did not see how his own cheeks flushed. Did not see how he had to swallow his nerves as he gently moved your hair off the nape of your neck.

You felt the cold press of the chain against your neck and chest, felt the warmth of Benjicot’s fingers as he fastened the clasp. His touch lingering perhaps a second or two longer than necessary.

You turned before Benjicot had a chance to step back. Your chests nearly touching with how close the two of you stood.

You had never been this close to a boy before. Had never felt your breath mix with another. Eyes locked on each other, gazes searching.

Benjicot slowly raised his hand, fingers leaving a feather-light touch against your cheek as he moved a lock of hair behind your ear.

You watched as his eyes shifted down to your lips before returning to your eyes. There was a question in his gaze, one you were not sure you knew how to answer.

You had read about kisses in books. Kisses shared between a knight and a fair maiden after a daring escape. Secret, daring kisses between two lovers caught on opposite sides of a war. Passionate kisses. Sweet kisses. Slow and deep, or fast and hot.

You had never been kissed before. Had never given much thought to who would claim your first kiss. You had assumed the kiss belonged to your future lord husband, as propriety demanded.

But in that moment, in the quiet of the library on your name day, you wanted to give that kiss to Benjicot.

Maybe somewhere in your heart, hidden and buried deep, you had pictured the kiss being with Benjicot all along. He could have easily been another brother to you, with his obnoxious pranks and teasing smiles.

Except that you never thought of him as a brother.

He was Benjicot Blackwood. Someone who was always there, even when you did not wish for him to be. Strong and dependable. A force to be reckoned with, one who demanded your attention and settled for nothing less. You could not imagine a world in which he did not exist in your life.

You licked your lips and slowly closed your eyes.

Benjicot took your cheek into his hand, tilting your head slightly to the right. You felt his other hand pull at your waist, bringing the two of you even closer together.

You knew what was about to happen. Knew that despite all the teasing and hostility and pranks, you were about to have your first kiss. You had never dreamed of this, never thought you would ever be in this position. But the moment felt right—

“Benjicot!”

You had never moved so quickly. The two of you leapt apart, both breathing heavily as you turned to see Oscar and Kermit stick their heads into the doorway of the library.

When they spotted the two of you, they smiled, completely oblivious to what they had interrupted.

You had never hated your brothers more.

“Come on, Benji!” Kermit shouted, gesturing for Benjicot to come join them. “Father wants to see you.”

Benjicot nodded, and you watched as he transformed into his usual easygoing demeanor and started toward the door. But at the last moment, he seemed to change his mind.

Turning to you, his back to your brothers, Benjicot reached for your hand and brought it to his lips. A quick press of his lips to the back of your hand had you flushing red all over again.

“Happy name day, my lady,” he whispered.

And then he left.

You did not know how long you stood there, unmoving and still as a statue. At some point, you returned to the table, leafing through your book without comprehending a single word. More than once, you caught yourself reaching for the necklace, seeking confirmation that the gift was real, that the moment with Benjicot was real.

You finally gave up on reading your book, moving to lean against the windowsill and watch the sun set over the training yard.

You replayed the afternoon over and over in your mind. And the longer you sat with the knowledge that Benjicot wanted to kiss you, and perhaps more surprising, that you wanted to kiss him, the more you wished that your brothers had waited a few moments longer.

Just before the last light faded and gave way to night, you spotted Benjicot walking across the training yard with your brothers trailing behind. You watched as Oscar gestured wildly, apparently recounting some unbelievable tale to Kermit and Benjicot. Even from a distance, you could see Kermit roll his eyes, exasperation clear on his features. You watched Kermit shove Oscar playfully, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the dirt.

And while Kermit and Oscar continued to pick at each other and squabble, Benjicot’s gaze shifted to where you sat at the window. Any surprise he felt at finding you watching them quickly dissolved into a wide grin. Ignoring your brothers, Benjicot lifted his hand and waved.

You answered his wave with one of your own. A soft, secret smile on your lips as you held his gaze. A thousand unspoken words between the two of you.

A happy name day, indeed.

final author note: I hope you enjoyed! Any feedback is greatly appreciated. (I think everyone in the taglist below asked to be tagged in all my Benjicot/Davos Blackwood fics, but if I'm wrong, please let me know!)

taglist:

@alifeinspiredd @crownofdecitreadingrespectfully @altaircc

@someblessedgal @devildelilah

#benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #hotd #hotd x you #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood x reader #bloody ben x reader #benjicot Blackwood imagine #benjicot Blackwood imagines #benjicot Blackwood x you #my fics #bloody ben x you

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henry7931 · 5 months ago

Text

Father’s Day Special

Tanner:

Fuckkkk, Mr. Blake’s dick just feels too good! I can’t stop jerking one out in his body and I need to get back to the dinner table with his family! It’s Father’s Day after all.

Mr. Blake is my childhood best friends dad and we ran into each other at a bar the other day. Both of us sat and talked for hours.

He eventually confessed that he misses being young and that he would do anything to have a sexy body like mine.

That statement made me so hard because seeing Mr. Blake mowing his lawn or doing stuff around his house was a big sexual awakening for me.

So we got a hotel room, Mr. Blake pulled off his shirt and started to reveal his body to me.

“You like what you see Tanner?”

“Mhmmm…”

“Well what if I told you all of this could be yours for a week,” he says immediately pulling down his pants. My mouth drops at the sight of Mr. Blake massive 11 inch throbbing cock.

He moves closure to me, so close that we’re now face to face.

“Tanner, I have a way for the both of us to becoming each other. You’ll get my body and I’ll get yours. No limits other than we’ll have to pretend to be each other. What do you say?”

Mr. Blake directed my hand on his firm cock and it was all over for me.

So the last couple of days, I’ve been pretending to be him. Pretending to my good friend Alex and his little brother that I’m actually their father.

Although, that part had been a little tough since every time I want some ‘daddy alone time.’ On of them is right around the corner.

Like for instance, u thought I had a good hour to jerk one out.

I started massage this massive dick from the outside of his shorts. Toying around with his big hairy balls… even smelling his big hairy feet.

But as I go to pull it out, the door swings open and Alex is at the door.

“Oh hey dad! How was your day?”

“Good! Just trying to relax son,” I said nervously.

Now that it’s Father Day, my entire day has been taken over by silly things like breakfast in bed, ‘golfing’, and now some dinner.

God, I just want to finish jerking on out!

*knock knock*

“Dad you okay?”

Shitttt, can I please have just two minutes.

I put his cock up and say, “yeah I’m coming.”

I walk out of the bathroom and my eyes get big when I see who’s at the table— it’s Alex, his brother, and my body!

“Well hello Tanner!” I say trying not to be too surprised.

“Hey Mr. Blake!” he says with a big grin on his face.

“Hey dad sorry for not giving you a heads up, do you mind if Tanner stays the night?”

“Well sure son!”

God, what is he doing?

I sit between Alex and Mr. Blake in my body. I feel so nervous. But then I’m completely caught off guard by the feeling off my former feet rubbing up Mr. Blake’s hairy leg.

He’s so calm and continuing a conversation with Alex, meanwhile I feel my former big toe touching the tip of his dick.

It can’t even take it. So I grab my former foot and hold on to it, just softly rubbing the sole under the table.

After dinner, I waited up for hours watching tv. All I could think of was Mr. Blake being upstairs in my body pretending to be me with his son.

It’s around 2 am now and I finally decide to go to bed. I head back to his room and to my surprise my body lying in bed sleeping…

I look at my former big smooth feet… I’ve also been somewhat self conscious about the size of them. But now from a different prospective—

All I want to do is rub Mr. Blake’s massive cock between them.

I walk up and pull off the clothes I had on.

I get run his big fingers tracing the soles… I then grab his dick and rub the head of it on them.

“Oh you’re here, I’ve been waiting for you,” I hear my former voice say. He looks at me holding his dick pressed against my feet.

“You have very cute feet Tanner,” he says wiggling my toes.

“Why don’t you join me?”

I hop into bed with Mr. Blake and I feel him reach for his dick.

“I just wanted to reward you for agreeing to do this with me, think of this as a Father’s Day Gift.”

I watch as he starts kissing down his chest down to his crotch.

I feel him wrap my former lips around his cock.

“Thanks Mr. Blake, this maybe the best part of Father’s Day so far!”

#body swap #male body swap #male tf

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i-cant-sing · 1 year ago

Note

Yandere batfam with a sick reader?

Yes but sick reader who is still defiant because hello, they kidnapped you?????

Reader is just glaring at them with tired eyes and a red nose as they once again tuck her under the covers, Dick is highly worried as he frets over you like a mama hen because he did have a heart attack when he caught you standing in front of your open window, where "harsh" gusts of cold air were "attacking your fragile form", so of course, he had to drag you in and wrap his arms around you, rub his cheek against you because he NEEDS to warm you immediately, lest you die of hypothermia.

Yes, Dick overreacts. And yes, Damian will accompany his brother in his delusions, or well, take any chance he gets to scold you.

"You should be in bed, Y/n." Damian said sternly, his eyes narrowed because how dare you worry his favourite brother like this. "Didn't Dick tell you to rest? Are you that incapable of following simple commands?"

You narrowed your eyes back at him, opening your mouth to say something mean but got cut off by your own coughing fit, making Dick rush to help you drink some water, rubbing your back along it. Your throat felt scractchy, and it hurt to speak, but you still wanted to convey your feelings so-

You flipped him off. For a nano second, because Dick immediately grabbed your hand and tucked it back under the covers while Damian's eyes widened at you disrespect, but before he could make any more gremlin noises, but Bruce walked in and Damian knew better than to complain to him about you when youre already sick, cause Bruce wouldve still favoured you.

"Y/n? How do you feel now?" Bruce asked, his voice gentle as he walked closer to where Dick was throwing away your mountain of tissues.

"Im fine. I wanna go out-" "No." "And why not?" "Because youre sick." "You may be Batman, but youre not a doctor!" "I am your father though."

No, youre not. You wanted to say, but knew that would only piss him off and you need to be on his good side if you want Dick and the others to be off your back so that you can escape.

"Whats her temperature?" Bruce asked Dick, who put a thermometer in your mouth quickly. Dick sighed as he told Bruce how you were out of bed and standing in your balcony in the cold just moments ago.

Bruce placed a palm over your forehead, and you tried to move away but there wasnt really any space or energy for you to do that. Bruce's eyes shifted the slightest bit at your burning forehead. "Why do you insist on getting out of bed and sleeping on the floor? Ive already had to pick you up 3 times in the past 2 days."

You pulled out the thermometer and glared at him. "Im fine. Its just sniffles." Bruce's lip quirked a little. You looked absolutely adorable in your delirious state, like an angry kitten.

"I dont think its just sniffles this time. And-" Bruce pulled the thermometer from your hands that you were hiding under the covers. "-dont hide the thermometer from me." His eyes scanned it and the twitch in his brow was enough for Dick to know that the number was too high.

Bruce then eyed the cough syrup next to your side table- its still full.

"Why havent you been taking your medicine?"

"Im not sick-"

"White paint has more color than you do right now. So why havent you been taking the medicine?" Bruce asked and even though he was a little annoyed, he had enough practice dealing with the other kid's rebellious phases to have the patience of a saint.

You shrugged. "How do I know its just cough syrup and not a sedative?" "It is a sedative too. Its supposed to make you sleepy." "Well, I dont wanna sleep and let my guard down in a house full of 5 strange men." You obviously never counted Alfred- hes the only normal one here- except for the part that he wont call the cops for you, but oh well.

Bruce just casted a look to Dick and before you knew it, Dick was pinching your nostrils close and titling your head up while Bruce grabbed the syrup and poured some in your mouth before clamping his hand over it. You struggled to break free, but you were obviously no match to them. Still, tears of frustration pricked your eyes as you looked at them in betrayal and hatred.

"Drink this and dont argue with me, please." Bruce said- well, he genuinely requested at this point.

You didnt have much of a choice other than swallowing it.

With a defiant glare, you begin closing your eyes as your body gave into the effects of the drug, the last thing that you felt were Bruce kissing your forehead while Dick pecked your cheek.

Jason finally decides to drop by the Wayne manor, only to be greeted with the sight of reader lying on the kitchen floor. His heart stopped for a moment- you werent breathing-

"Y/n!" He rushed to your side, only to be smacked in the face by you.

"Shush. Dont be too loud." Your voice sounded like sandpaper against rocks.

Jason huffed. "Well, sorry for freaking out. I thought you were dead-"

"From a cough? Im not weak."

"Yeah? So, what exactly are you doing on the cold floor in the middle of the night?"

"..."

"Well?"

"What? So I cant even take a nap in this house? Jesus Christ, am I allowed to have any autonomy here?"

"Y/n." Jason called, clearly unamused by your sarcasm.

"Fine. I may have fallen and then didnt have the energy to get up, so im just catching my breath here."

"Why are you even out of bed?"

"I was hungry and Im not gonna drink another spoon of Alfred's bland soup again." Alfred made it bland on purpose so that your throat wouldnt be irritated.

"Please stop wasting whats left of your voice on complaints of the soup that you cant even taste." Jason chuckled as he picked you up, only for you to push at his chest weakly.

"I dont need your help. I can walk on my own."

Jason quirked a brow. "If you can make it to the front door without fainting or throwing up, I'll help you escape." You stared at the front door- it wasnt too far, but judging by the fact that its even hard for you to breathe properly and that youve fainted way too many times by just standing for more than a couple of minutes.

But youre stubborn. With great effort, you pushed yourself off Jason and used the kitchen island to pull yourself up. Jason decided to walk in front of you and stand near the kitchen exit because he really wanted to see your struggling face.

You took a trembling step, then another, one hand still using the support of the island until it ended and you were only a couple of feet away from Jason. At this point, you were already out of breath and when you took another step, your legs gave out and the room began spinning.

Luckily, Jason was quick to react. "Alright, just place your arm around mine- or just fall on me, that works too." He teased when you couldnt hold your body weight.

You slumped in his arms. "Just take me to my room." You huffed.

"Alright." Jason lifted your legs up and carried you back up the stairs. "You know you'd get better a lot faster if you just stayed in bed and took your medicine on time. Wouldnt that make your chances of escaping the manor better?"

You stared at him blankly. "Wow. The world must be ending for Jason Todd to be making logical suggestions."

Jason rolled his eyes as he tucked you in bed. "Im just saying, if you get better faster, you'll get to try running from us quicker too."

How do you explain to him that you just dont want to comply to them, even when they're helping you. How do you explain that you dont wanna listen to them because the soft pitiful, patronising look they get in their eyes when they look at you makes you wanna scream and carve your skin out. These are strangers, rich men who just kidnapped you to be a part of their family. No one is that kind. And nothing ever comes for free. Nothing.

"Do you need something? Food, perhaps?" Jason asked. You shook your head. "No, I think Im gonna throw up."

"Oh shit." Jason was hauling his ass out of the room t get you a bucket, only to return with a backpack.

You barely held your puke as you asked. "Wait- whose is this?"

"I dont know!? Damian's?!"

You grinned. "Oh, perfect." You proceeded to throw up into Damian's bag. That little shit just got on your nerves.

BONUS:

"I know you have attachment issues with your blanket but its been a couple of days now and you need to let me wash it." Dick said, trying to tug it out of your grip.

You sniffled and glared. "Im not a child who needs their blankie, Dick. Im just too cold without it and no other blanket can warm me up the same way it does."

"Give the blankie, Y/n." Dick said seriously.

"Its not a blankie." You retorted, but before you could react, Tim suddenly grabbed you while Dick ripped away the blanket. And even though he immediately replaces it with a clean blanket, you still let out a gut wrenching cry

"You'll have it back tomorrow-" Tim starts saying, only for you to sneeze directly in his face, making him freeze.

"And that's why we use tissues." Dick says, wiping both your nose and Tim's face with tissues, while you're not making any effort to suppress the grin that comes on your lips.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake

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be4chywritez · 6 months ago

Note

Plzzz tell me we are getting a part 2 of you had me at hello

You ask and you'll receive.

had me at hello ll | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x perez!reader

oscar and you are dating but when dating someone with such a high profile scrutiny is unavoidable.

my masterlist!

part l

request are open!

prompt list

You checked your phone nervously, glancing around the corner of the dimly lit café. It was your first real date, away from the prying eyes of the paddock and the ever-watchful media. You smiled as you saw Oscar approaching, his usual quiet demeanor replaced with a boyish grin.

Oscar slid into the seat across from you, his eyes sparkling. “This place is perfect,” he said, looking around at the cozy décor. “How did you find it?”

“An actress never tells her secrets.” You teased, winking. “But seriously, I thought we could use a break from all the chaos.”

You ordered drinks and settled into an easy conversation, talking about everything from your favorite movies to the challenges you and Oscar have faced in your careers. The more they talked, the more You realized how much you enjoyed Oscar’s company. He was kind, attentive, and surprisingly funny.

Midway through your conversation, Oscar reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I have to tell you something,” he began, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“What is it?” You asked, intrigued by his sudden seriousness.

Oscar took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I absolutely love your accent. The way you speak… it’s beautiful. I could listen to you talk all day.”

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. “Thank you, Oscar. That’s really sweet. I guess I never really thought about it.”

Oscar smiled, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. “It’s just… it’s a part of you. And I like everything about you, even the way you say my name.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling your heart race. “You’re making me blush, Oscar.”

You finished their drinks and decided to take a walk along the quiet streets. The night air was cool, and You shivered slightly. Without a word, Oscar draped his jacket over your shoulders, his hand lingering on your arm.

Y/n looked at him through your lashes, taking hold of his hand, gently giving him enough time to pull away, but he didn’t. He brought their interlinked hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand.

A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through you as you felt the gentle pressure of his lips on your skin. It was such a simple gesture, yet it carried so much meaning. You squeezed his hand, your fingers intertwining perfectly.

As they walked, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, Oscar suddenly stopped.

“Y/n, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you replied, looking up at him.

“What happens if this gets out?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I don't want to cause something with your brother," He swallows watching you with careful eyes.

You took a deep breath, considering his words. “We’ll deal with it together,” you said firmly. “I don’t know what Checo could do, but I do know that I want to be with you.”

Oscar smiled, relief was evident in his eyes. “I want that too.”

Oscar let out a huff. "So, you're my girlfriend?" he asked, swinging your hands. You looked over at him, "Looks like it."

You continued your walk, eventually reaching the front of your hotel room. Standing there, basking in each other's warmth, he opened his mouth to say something, "I'm sorry, I have to," he said, grabbing the side of your face and bringing you in for a kiss. It was soft and gentle, your hands gripping his wrist.

You both pulled away, lips swollen. "Good night, Oscar," you smiled, ducking into the room.

You quietly entered the hotel suite, as you settled your bag down you heard knock on your door, using your code knock like when you guys were little.

letting him in he takes a seat on the loveseat.

He took in your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips, and the way your pupils were slightly dilated.

"¿Dónde has estado?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Where have you been?

“Just out,” you reply nonchalantly, trying to hide your smile.

Checo notices and sits up straight."¿Con Oscar verdad?"

With Oscar right?

You sigh, knowing you can’t hide it. “Yes, with Oscar.”

Checo frowns. “estoy preocupado por ti. Todo esto con Oscar… es complicado. Ustedes tienen carreras exigentes y los medios son implacables. Simplemente no quiero que te lastimes.”

I'm worried about you. All this with Oscar… it's complicated. You have demanding careers and the media is unforgiving. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.

You sit down next to him, your excitement from the date now mixed with concern. “I understand why you’re worried, Checo. But Oscar makes me happy. And I think we can handle it.” You rest your head on his shoulder.

Checo looks at you, his expression softening. “Simplemente no quiero verte lastimado. Si él te hace feliz, eso es todo lo que importa. Pero prométeme que tendrás cuidado."

I just don't want to see you hurt. If he makes you happy, that's all that matters. But promise me you'll be careful.

You nod, hugging him. "Te lo prometo. Y gracias por preocuparte tanto."

I promise you. And thank you for caring so much.

"Solo recuerda, siempre estaré aquí para ti, pase lo que pase." he told you.

Just remember, I will always be here for you, no matter what.

you let him out of your room, then collapsing onto the bed with a hazy expression on your face. Your mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, from guilt to excitement to fear of the consequences.

Later that night, you can't stop thinking about Oscar. The day's excitement has only heightened your feelings for him, and you find yourself wanting to be close to him again. You text him, and within minutes, there's a soft knock on your door.

You open it to find Oscar standing there, a shy smile on his face. "Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," you reply, stepping aside to let him in. "I just... I wanted to see you."

He closes the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours. "I wanted to see you too," he says, his voice a low murmur.

Without another word, he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your face. You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle.

You melt into the kiss, your hands gripping his wrists as you lose yourself in the moment. The kiss deepens, and you feel the world around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. He walks towards the couch, sitting down, and you straddle him, your hands making their way to the hair at the base of his neck. You tug slightly, making him let out a quiet groan.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine, and you press closer to him, feeling his hands move to your waist. The intensity of the moment builds, your heart pounding in your chest as you lose yourself in his touch and the heat between you.

Just as things are starting to heat up, you hear a soft knock on your door. Both of you freeze, pulling away from each other reluctantly. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to compose yourself.

"Y/n, are you okay?" It's Checo's voice, filled with concern.

You glance at Oscar, who looks equally startled. Taking a deep breath, you call out, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a minute."

You quickly straighten your clothes and smooth your hair before opening the door. Checo stands there, his expression a mix of worry and curiosity.

"What's going on?" he asks, his eyes darting between you and Oscar, who is now standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Nothing, we were just talking," you say, trying to sound casual.

Checo raises an eyebrow but doesn't press the issue. "Alright, just wanted to make sure you're okay. It's late, try to get some sleep."

You nod, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. "I will, thanks, Checo."

As Checo turns to leave, you close the door and lean against it, your heart still racing. Oscar steps closer, his hand finding yours.

"That was close," he whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Too close," you agree, squeezing his hand. "Maybe we should call it a night."

Oscar nods, leaning in to give you one last, lingering kiss. "Good night, Y/n. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Oscar," you whisper back, watching him quietly leave the room.

With your heart still pounding, you crawl into bed, laying there your fingers dance around your lips, they feel swollen, and you sigh trying to fall asleep, for now, you let the warmth of his kiss linger as you drift off to sleep.

You and Oscar have been dating for a while now, you attend races as much as you could, switching up which team you would support.

Checo has accepted that you and Oscar are together, and he's happy to see his little sister happy.

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stretch languidly, the memory of last night bringing a smile to your face. The clock reads 8:30 AM, giving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Oscar.

You slip out of bed and head to the bathroom, the cool tiles underfoot helping to shake off any lingering sleepiness. As you go through your morning routine, your thoughts drift to Oscar, and a giddy excitement bubbles up inside you.

Once you're dressed in your carefully chosen outfit you admire yourself in the mirror.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you out of your reverie. It's a text from Oscar

Morning! Ready to go?

Yeah meet me in the lobby in 10?

Perfect see you soon 😊

Feeling a rush of excitment, you grab your things and head down to the lobby. As you wait, you check your reflection one last time in the lobby mirror, adjusting your hair and making sure everything is perfect.

Just as you finish, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Y/n?"

You turn to see Checo walking towards you, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing down here so early?"

Your heart skips a beat, but you quickly compose yourself. "Oh, just meeting Oscar."

Checo chuckles, "You sure do love him."

Just then, the elevator doors open, and Oscar steps out, looking slightly flustered but undeniably handsome. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he quickly makes his way over.

"Good morning," he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

"Good morning," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

Checo watches the exchange with a neutral expression, but you can sense his protective instincts kicking in.

"Ready to go?" Oscar asks, offering his hand.

You take it, feeling a surge of happiness. "Absolutely."

Checo clears his throat, drawing both of your attention. "Oscar," he starts, his tone serious, "Look out for her."

Oscar nods, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I will."

Satisfied, Checo steps back, giving you both a nod. "Alright, you two. Have a good day."

You and Oscar head out of the hotel, hand in hand. The drive to the paddock is filled with easy conversation and laughter. Oscar seems more relaxed than ever, and you can't help but feel the same.

When he parks, he doesn't get out immediately he looks over at you, he runs his thumb against the back of your hand, "you look beautiful." he says.

You blush, thanking him, he get out of the car, opening your car door helping you out, he grabs your had walking towards the etrance of the circuit.

Fans push against the barricade trying to get Oscar to sign things, he slows down you let go of his hand to let him sign things for fans, you stand next to him, a fan greets you, you greet back, "y/n you look so cute today," you smile at the fan thanking her.

Oscar peers at you, "she always looks cute," he says handing back a cap to a fan, fans around you "Aw" and you giggle, Oscar bids them goodbye walking towards the garage.

The race went great for your brother, but for your boyfriend not so much, P16 wasn't a nice look, he walked toward the garage, his head hung low, and mechanics and engineers pat his back, you walk towards him taking his helmet that clutched he wrapped around your waist burying his nose into your shoulder.

you let him sit there, rubbing his back comfortably, he lets go, pecking your lips, and going to his drivers room.

That night Oscar layed down his head against your chest, an episode of Criminal Minds played in the background, you can hear him mutter something at the TV when the Team missed a clue.

Your phone vibrates, it is an email from your agent, she attached a letter from Sony, it read.

Dear Y/n, you got the part! You were amazing, the scripts are attached to this, and we can't wait to brainstorm with you, here is a rough draft schedule for filming.

Kindly, Tony Vinciquerra

You blink at the schedule before processing anymore Oscar sits up, "We should order ice cream." he says slipping out of bed, he grabs the phone calling room service.

You stare at Oscar, and when he notices he gives you a wink, you look down at the email, you turn off your phone facing Oscar promising you'll tell him tomorrow

You found Oscar sitting in the jacuzzi on the balcony of your room, his head leaned back, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly ajar. His eyes opened as you approached, his face lighting up with a smile that quickly faded when he saw the worry in your eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, watching you as you sat on the ledge of the jacuzzi, the ends of your thin nightgown getting wet.

“Hey,” you replied, “We need to talk.”

Oscar nodded, taking your hand in his.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “I got an offer for a film role. It’s a big opportunity, but it’s in Barbados. I’d have to be away for three months.”

Oscar’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his expression serious. “That’s amazing, Y/n. You’ve worked so hard for this.”

“But it means we’d be apart,” you said, your voice trembling. “And you know long distance doesn't work.”

Oscar cupped your cheek with his free hand, looking into your eyes. “We’ll make it work. I won’t lie, it’s going to be tough, but we’ll figure it out. I believe in us.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushing it away. “I believe in us too. But I’m scared, Oscar. Scared of losing you, of what people will say…”

Oscar pulled you into a tight hug, not caring if your nightgown got wet, his voice gentle but firm. “You have to go, and I’ll support you every step of the way. We’ll find a way to make it work, no matter what.”

Feeling the warmth of his embrace, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. It started softly, but soon it deepened, fueled by the intensity of emotions. Your hands found their way to his cheeks, holding him close as you poured all your love and longing into the kiss.

The following week, Checo and Oscar stood before you. You wore sunglasses to conceal any signs of tears.

Oscar stepped away, allowing you and your brother a moment together. "Vas a estar bien, te estaremos esperando, no te preocupes," he assured you, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

You're going to be fine, we'll be waiting for you, don't worry.

Planting a tender kiss on your forehead, he signaled to Oscar, who approached. After placing your glasses atop your head, Oscar gently wiped away a stray tear. "I love you," he murmured, brushing his lips against your cheeks before landing a soft kiss on your lips. You reciprocated, whispering, "I love you, Oscar," as he smiled warmly. "I love you more," he replied.

As Checo returned to your side, your gate was called. Grabbing your bag, you walked away from them. Checo patted Oscar on the back reassuringly. "She'll be okay."

You sat in your trailer, staring at the script in front of you. You had just finished another exhausting day of filming, and your body ached for rest. Your phone buzzed with a message from Oscar, asking how your day had been. You smiled at his thoughtfulness, but a pang of guilt hit you for not being able to respond immediately.

Later that evening, You found a quiet moment to call Oscar. “Hey,” you said softly, leaning back against the couch.

“Hey,” Oscar replied, his voice filled with warmth. “How was your day?”

“Long,” you admitted, sighing. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Oscar said, his tone sincere. “But I have some good news. I’ve been doing really well in the simulations. The team thinks I might have a good shot at the podium this weekend.”

Your heart swelled with pride. “That’s amazing, Oscar! I knew you could do it.”

“But there’s something else,” Oscar continued, his voice growing serious. “The team wants me to stay focused. They’re worried that our relationship might be a distraction.”

Your heart sank. “What do you mean?”

“They think we’re spending too much time together,” Oscar explained. “They want me to cut back on our calls, at least until the season ends.”

You felt a knot forming in your stomach. “Oscar, I don’t want to be a distraction. I want to support you.”

“I know,” Oscar said gently. “And you do. But I have to prove to them that I can stay focused."

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears. “Okay. We’ll make it work. I believe in you, Oscar.”

Oscar’s voice softened. “Thank you, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, ending the call and staring at your phone, you sigh running a hand through your face.

before dwelling on your thoughts too much, your assistant called you out to film some promotional videos.

Later that week, You found yourself on a film set in a picturesque but remote location. The long hours and demanding schedule left little time for anything else. You missed Oscar terribly, your brief texts and calls never feeling like enough.

It also didn't help that he was traveling around the world.

One night, after an exhausting shoot, you returned to your trailer to find a bouquet of flowers and a note from Oscar: "Thinking of you. We’ll make it through this. Love, Oscar."

Tears welled up in your eyes as she read the note. You called him immediately, needing to hear his voice.

"Hey," he answered, sounding equally tired but happy to hear from you.

"Hey," you said, you voice breaking. "Thank you for the flowers. I miss you so much."

"I miss you too," Oscar replied. "But remember what we talked about? We’re in this together. No matter what."

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of reassurance washed over you. "I know. And I’m here for you too, Oscar. We’ll get through this."

You and Oscar stayed on the phone for hours that night, until you fell asleep.

Your co-star bangs on your trailer door you jump up from your spot, quickly opening the door to be greeted by him. "Y/n, stop being so boring. The crew and I are gonna go get a bite. Wanna come?" he asks.

You consider for a moment, then reply, "Yeah, I'll go."

You sit at the pizza parlor with the crew, enjoying the sweet Barbados air as it tickles your face. It takes your mind off Oscar, though you feel slightly guilty for not thinking about him. But it feels good to relax.

Your co-star leans towards you. "So, how's your Australian?" he asks. You smile at the thought of Oscar, reaching for your phone and opening up your photos. You slide through them, showing pictures of your boyfriend. What you don't notice is the flashing camera of the paparazzi. All they capture is you and your co-star sitting closely as you smile at him.

If you felt a strain in your relationship before you felt it now.

The tension reaches a boiling point when a rumor spreads that you were seen with a co-star, leading to speculation about your loyalty to Oscar. The headlines scream: "Trouble in Paradise for Y/n and Oscar?"

Oscar sees the news and feels his insecurities flare up. That evening, he calls you, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

"Is it true?" he asks, skipping the usual pleasantries.

"Is what true?" you reply, confused.

"That you’re getting close to your co-star? The media is having a field day with it," Oscar says, his voice tight.

Your heart sinks. "Oscar, no. It’s just a rumor. You know how the media is. Please, don’t let them get to you."

Oscar's tone remains skeptical. "How can I be sure, Y/n? These pictures don't lie."

You feel a pang of hurt. "Oscar, please believe me. I would never hurt you like that."

There's a tense silence on the other end of the line before Oscar speaks again, his voice strained. "I need some time to think. I'll talk to you later."

The line goes dead, leaving you feeling shaken. As you hang up the phone, a sense of dread settles over you, wondering if your love for each other will be enough to overcome the doubts and rumors swirling around you.

@willowpains @ilovefictionalm3n

#oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri angst #o #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #be4chywrites

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months ago

Note

Topper’s sister (one or two years younger you pick) who does Only Fans and Rafe finds out. He subscribes and watches her content (because she’s hot and off limits since she’s Topper’s little sister) in secret, then blackmails her saying he’s gonna tell Topper. One weekend, she comes to Rafe and Topper’s place to surprise Topper for his birthday, but he’s not there and rafe blackmails her into giving him a blowjob

This is the longest work I've written in a while, I hope you enjoy

p.s. There is a possibility to make a part 2 for this one. Let me know if you are interested

Warnings: 18+, smut, blackmail, oral (m receiving),

—

After showering, Rafe tossed his towel into the hamper and fell on his bed. Topper was out with Cynthia — or maybe it was Vanessa —, which left him alone for the night. Rafe wasn’t complaining though, being alone was nice sometimes. Especially when he wanted to jerk off.

He could have done it in the shower, but having visual material made the release better.

Phone in hand, Rafe scrolled for something to watch. Sadly, none of the girls he was following had put up new content, so he looked for new accounts. He found a cute one, brunette with blue eyes, but she had overly huge tits and Rafe wasn’t into that — no offense to the girl. He almost went looking elsewhere when his eyes caught a familiar face.

Rafe hit the profile and the biggest smirk turned on his lips.

No fucking way.

‘’Caught your dirty little secret,’’ he said to himself, his blue eyes staring at the free photoset you had to attract subscribers. Your sheer white bra left not much to the imagination and the curve of your ass had Rafe’s cock twitching. He’s been wanting to hit it since you wore that bikini at this beach parry last summer.

Without hesitation, he subscribed and opened the first video.

You were sitting cross-legged on your dorm bed with nothing but a baby pink bodysuit, which hugged your figure perfectly. Your hard nipples were poking through the thin fabric, as if they were trying to say ‘hello’ to your viewers. You winked at the camera as your right hand slowly went down your chest, making a show of pinching your covered nipple and catching your bottom lip with your teeth as you let out a little moan.

The sound made Rafe grip his cock and start to slowly jerk it. He was weak for nice tits…and yours were very nice.

You pulled your other breast free from the fabric, your delicious nipple popping free as you asked the camera if they'd like to suck on them. Without waiting for an answer — not that you would be getting any since it was pre-recorded —, you looked down at it and dribbled spit onto yourself.

If Topper knew he was jerking off to his little sister, he would rip his head off.

And your parents? If they knew about your secret online business, they would cancel all payments to your prestigious college and bring your ass back to Kildare. Dr. Cynthia Thornton’s daughter could not be part of the world of prostitution. It would look terrible for their name.

Normally, Rafe loved to ruin people’s lives just for fun, but he was enjoying the view too much. All the photo-sets of you in delicate lingerie, the occasional topless ones, the close-ups of your fingers — and sometimes toys — in your pussy and the sweet moans that came from your mouth every time you were pleasuring yourself were part of his night routine. As perverted as it sounded.

Weeks passed, and soon Topper’s birthday was coming up. The boys planned on going out to a club and celebrating there, but the plan changed when you showed up to your brother’s apartment for a birthday surprise.

‘’Where’s Top?’’ you asked, walking in like it was your own place.

With a frown on his face, Rafe watched and closed the door behind you. ‘’At the gym with Braxton,’’ he replied. ‘’What are you doing here?’’

‘’Am I not allowed to surprise my brother for his birthday?’’

‘’We already have plans, and you’re not part of it.’’

Although Rafe had reserved a private booth, there was no way Topper would allow you to come to the club.

Brushing off his objection, you grabbed your small suitcase and scanned the apartment. ‘’Where’s the guest bedroom?’’

‘’Here,’’ Rafe said, pointing at the couch.

‘’I’m not sleeping on the couch.’’

‘’We turned the third bedroom into a gaming room. It’s the couch or the floor. You pick.’’

You raised an eyebrow, considering your options. The floor got crossed immediately — women do not sleep on floors. The couch, although soft and comfortable looking, had probably been used to have sex. It was a college boys apartment.

‘’Then, I’ll be taking your bedroom.’’

‘’Absolutely not, Princess. This is my apartment, I'm not sleeping on the couch.’’

You crossed your arms, challenging his resistance. ‘’Come on, Rafe. I’m only staying for two days. I need to be back for Sunday, I have—’’

‘’Video content to film?’’

You gave Rafe a confused look to conceal your inner panic. ‘’A paper due Monday,’’ you said.

Rafe leaned against the couch, his eyes scanning you up and down. ‘’I know about your dirty little secret,’’ he said smugly, explicit images of yourself flashing in his head. ‘’I found your Only Fans account last month. By the way, you look better in light pink than sapphire blue, it washes you out.’’

At this very moment, you wished you could disappear with a snap of your fingers. With the details he was providing, it was impossible that Rafe was bluffing. You thought your account was well hidden, that your username was well thought and would never give you away. How did he find you?

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, looking at Rafe with knives for eyes.

‘’You didn’t think anyone would find out, did you?’’

‘’Did you tell Topper?’’

Fear started creeping in your stomach at the thought of Topper knowing about that part of your life.

Rafe shook his head. ‘’Your secret’s safe with me…on one condition.’’

You rolled your eyes. Nothing was ever free with Rafe. He always wanted something in exchange.

The corner of his mouth curled and you shook your head immediately, easily guessing what he had in mind. ‘’Absolutely not.’’

‘’Come on. I’m keeping my mouth shut, the least you can do is open yours.’’

Your jaw dropped at his crude words. ‘’That’s blackmail!’’

Rafe shrugged, not caring that he was playing dirty. ‘’You do what you want. I’m not gonna be the one in trouble after I make a little call to Topper to tell him his little sister opens her legs for money—’’

‘’Fine,’’ you said, gritting your teeth.

Somehow, this was more embarrassing than anything you had done on camera.

Swallowing your pride, you kneeled before him, trying to ignore the cocky winning smile on Rafe’s face as you came face to face with his clothed lower region. He was already thick behind his sweatpants — you could see the outline through the gray fabric.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled his sweatpants down, uncovering his cock and balls. You gulped at the sight. He was long and thicker than average, which explained where his confidence came from — aside from his daddy’s big money.

‘’Like what you see?’’ Rafe asked, proud of his appendage.

Without breaking your annoyance, you rolled your eyes. You couldn’t let him know that you were impressed by his size. He would never let you live this one down.

You wrapped a soft palm around his shaft, letting your thumb stroke over his tip and back down until he reached full hardness. Reluctantly, you dipped your head and took the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue and tasting the pre-cum that leaked from it before going to the base of his shaft. You didn’t take everything into your mouth — yet —, but tried to fit as much as you could.

A soft groan left Rafe's mouth, feeling the pleasure of yours. His hand came to the back of your head, gripping your hair into a ponytail and encouraging you to continue your movements up and down. You sped up your pace, saliva spilling from your mouth as precum leaked into your mouth and ran down your throat, secretly starting to enjoy yourself.

You clenched your thighs together, wetness slowly pooling in your panties.

Above you, Rafe moaned, his grip tightening on your hair as you slid down as deep as you could manage. ‘’That’s it, baby. Put that mouth to good use.’’

Had your mouth not been busy, you would have told him to get fucked. Instead, you let him fuck your mouth like you were a inflatable doll from a sex shop until your jaw was starting to ache and you had to pull away.

Unsatisfied with your ungranted break, Rafe tapped his cock against your cheek, smearing pre-cum and saliva on your face. ‘’Did I tell you to stop?’’

‘’No, but—’’

‘’Then get back to business.’’ He pressed his cock against your mouth, but you didn’t let him in. ‘’Or…maybe I should call Topper and send him a link to your side business?’’

You sat on your heels, letting out a defeated sigh. ‘’My jaw hurts, okay? I can’t anymore,’’ you explained, although doubting Rafe would be compassionate. He didn't care about you, he just wanted to empty his balls. ‘’But maybe we can’t look at other options?’’ You pulled down the front of your shirt, exposing your bra to him.

Rafe's eyes darted down your chest, catching his bottom lip between his teeth knowing what was beneath your bra. ‘’I'm listening.’’

But before the negotiations could begin, you heard the apartment door opening: Topper was back. Quickly, you fixed your shirt and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand while Rafe pulled his sweatpants back up.

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx @sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc @pedrosprincess @mikaelsonsstuff @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @madelynie @loverofdrewstarkey @radiant-whore @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696 @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #obx #outer banks imagine #rafe outer banks

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sophsbookstore · 6 months ago

Text

The Perfect Day

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader pt. 2 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Read pt. 1 here

A/N: In honor of Charles Leclerc winning the freakin Monaco Grand Prix!!

Word count: 2,453

“Looks like you have no one on schedule.” The front desk lady says to Y/N.

Y/N looks up from her phone, constantly refreshing her calendar, checking to make sure what she’s hearing is correct. There has to be some mistake? Just yesterday she was completely booked for the day.

“I think everyone canceled for the grand prix, I mean who would want to miss it, Charles is starting on pole!” The lady raved. All of Monaco was rooting for Charles, there was something in the air, everyone knew that Charles was going to win the Grand Prix, he had to.

“So I guess I'm off for the day?” Y/N looks at the lady puzzled, regretting her rejection of Charles' invitation to the Grand Prix.

Y/N waves goodbye to the other employees packing their things, the girl goes back to her car, sitting in science before calling Charles’ mom. She picks up within the first couple of rings. Y/N asks for Charles, his mom calling to Charles on the other line, passing her phone to her son.

“Sorry for telling you on such short notice but my schedule is cleared if there's still an available spot to see you race today.” Y/N starts fiddling with her hands, although Charles can't see, she hopes he doesn't pick up on the pleas in her voice.

“For you? There is always room.” With that Y/N gets an address sent to her and digital tickets to let her in. “I'll meet you at the entrance so I can give you your pass.” Y/N nods rapidly, thanking Charles for his generosity. Telling her that it was no problem at all, Charles bids her farewell, promising to see her later at the Grand Prix. Y/N rushes home, knowing she doesn't have long until the event starts.

She rummages through her closest, trying to find an outfit she deems perfect for the occasion. Finally landing on an outfit that satisfies her she looks at the clock, noticing that it's about time she leaves. She locks the door to her apartment behind her, shaking her hands with anxiety, reminding herself that she's there to support Charles.

When she finally gets to the Grand Prix she notices a group of people huddled near the entrance. She follows security, parking her car, dusting herself off, rolling her shoulders back, and walking closer to the commotion.

As Y/N steps closer she finally sees what's at the center of the huddle, Charles. She waves her hand up in the air, hoping he catches her signal to him. Luckily he does. Quickly he makes his way over to her, pushing through the interviewers and paparazzi, with the green paddock pass in his hand.

“I'm so happy you came.” He says, pulling her in for a hug, kissing her cheek as he does so.

“I'm so happy you still let me come.” The pair laugh, pulling away from the embrace.

Charles wraps his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her close to him as the two enter the paddock. Charles lets go of Y/N for a moment, stepping in front of her and placing the pass around her neck as they reconnect with one another officially entering the grounds.

Y/N can feel everyone staring at her, anxiety starts to bubble in her chest, wondering if she was being stared at in disgust or curiosity. “Don't worry about them.” Charles turns whispering in her ear.

“It's hard, they keep staring at me like I'm some kind of animal at the zoo.”

“Y/N they are most likely looking at how pretty you are, I mean I can't help but stare too.” He smirks, Y/N playfully removing her hand around him to give him a little smack on the arm, quickly moving it back around him.

The pair make their way to the Ferrari hospitality, Charles introduces Y/N to the various staff scattered around before making his way over to his brother Arthur. Y/N has met Arthur before, giving him ‘hellos’ here and there when he comes in to get his haircut by his mom.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” The younger driver asked in excitement.

“She's my plus one.” Charles smiles at his brother, Y/N blushing, nodding in agreement.

Before the three could say any more to each other someone taps Chalres shoulder, his engineer signaling to him that it's time for him to leave. Charles frowns, nodding understanding he gives his brother a hug, the younger of the two hyping up his older brother.

Charles goes back to Y/N giving her a long embrace before kissing the side of her head. “You're going to win today, I just know it.” Y/N whispers to Charles moments before he leaves.

“I really hope you're right.” He gives her one last glance before following his engineer toward the car.

Y/N and Arthur mingle around the paddock, Arthur introducing Y/N to almost everyone that he knows. “Is that my nephew?” Arthur yells out, moving quickly towards a man that Y/N has never seen before.

“Y/N, this is my adopted nephew Oscar.” Oscar walks over to the both of them, shaking Y/N’s hand.

“Ahh, so you must be Charles’ new son. Congratulations on P2, I wish you luck on your race today.” Y/N gives him a warm smile, the driver smiling back.

“Thank you.” Moments later Oscar is also pulled away, saying goodbye to the two as he makes his way towards his Mclaren.

Arthur motions for Y/N to follow him, together they make their way over to their designated area, Arthur slipping some headphones onto Y/N’s head as the two settle in, anxiously watching the screen in front of them as Monaco settles in silence, manifesting Charles' win.

Needless to say the race was stressful, with the red flag barely into the first lap Y/N worried that someone would overtake Charles, wanting to scream to the other drivers not to pass Charles on such a special and important day.

Arthur and Y/N hold onto one another during every touch, maneuver, and tire change, wishing the best for Ferrari, but most importantly Charles. As the lap starts coming to an end Y/N and Arthur look at one another, is this it? Is Charles going to win his home race and finally break the Monaco curse?

As Charles pulls closer to the finish line everyone from Ferrari runs closer to the barriers, screaming for Charles as he crosses the line. Tears hit Y/N's eyes, the girl cheering as loud as she can. He has done it, Charles Leclerc wins the 2024 Monaco Grand prix.

Charles practically jumps out of his car, tears trickling out of his eyes as he cheers atop his Ferrari. Jumping down before running and leaping towards his team. As if the cries of joy couldn't be any louder they did. At that moment it seemed that all of Monaco was cheering for him.

Charles moves throughout the crowd hugging the people who helped him most to get this victory, finally making his way to Arthur and Y/N. Y/N steps to the side, letting the brothers have their moment first, hugging one another before the driver turns to Y/N.

The two melt in their embrace, Y/N crying tears of joy for Charles. “You did it!” She pulls back, her arms still tightly around Charles' big frame. “I knew you would.”

Charles continues to hold her. “Meet me after the race, I still have dinner with you tonight. '' Y/N nods rapidly. Charles finally stepped away to go with his rest of the team to the doc, getting ready to do their celebratory jump into the water.

Arthur and Y/N follow behind the large group, Y/N taking out her phone to snap a few pictures in celebration. One by one the big group starts to taper off, either going off to celebrate or do interviews, Arthur says goodbye to Y/N leaving the girl to wait for Charles.

After countless interviews the driver finally returns to Y/N, now fully dried he gives her a hug. “Thank you for waiting.”

“No worries! Congratulations on your race, seriously.” She smiles up at him. “You don't have to go to dinner with me, I know you would much rather be partying with everyone.”

“Nonsense, the parties will go on later in the night. Right now, I want to be with you.” He holds out his hand, Y/N gladly takes it, the pair walking towards Ferrari hospitality so Charles can change into less damp, non-Ferrari clothes.

Y/N waits outside for Charles to change, once ready the pair walk toward the parking lot. “The restaurant is fairly close if you want to walk?” He offers. Y/N looks over at her car, then back at Charles. “Sure!”

Together the pair walk out of the circuit, now entering the streets of Monte Carlo. They continue to talk with one another, getting interrupted every few meters by fans noticing Charles, everyone giving him high praise for his victory.

“Maybe we should have driven.” Charles jokes, the pair walking faster trying to get rid of the crowd following them, getting larger by the minute.

“Next time we will for sure.” Y/N nods in agreement.

“Next time? Already planning a second date before the first?” Charles smiles, the tips of his ears getting hot.

Y/N blushes in embarrassment. “Oh! I- ummm.” She stutters, getting caught off guard by Charles' question.

“I'd be more than happy to go on another date with you Y/N.” He smiles, the pair silently brushing their fingers together, slowly intertwining their hands as they continue down the busy Monte Carlo street.

Finally making it to the restaurant the staff immediately identify Charles, moving rapidly getting Charles and Y/N a room in the back. Patrons and staff of the restaurant give Charles loud cheers and high praise the further they walk into the restaurant.

Charles steps in front of Y/N pulling the girl's chair out for her to sit, thanking him she does so, Charles scooting her chair forward before taking his rightful seat across from her. The two open up their menus, engaging in slight conversation before both put their menus down, leaning forward, getting closer to one another.

“Thank you for coming to the race, and to dinner with me after.” Charles smiles, blushing ever so slightly.

“Thank you for the invite! Surprisingly, I'm glad that everyone canceled their appointments, if they hadn't I wouldn't have gotten to see you win.”

“I don't know how to feel, I'm just so excited and happy. I wish that my father would have been here to see it. We both dreamed of me winning my home race.” He looks down at the menu, quickly wiping his eyes.

“He is, he might not be physically here but he is always with you. I can say with 100% certainty that wherever he might be, he is jumping up and down cheering the hardest for you.” Charles looks up at Y/N, his eyes glossy.

“Thank you Y/N, truly.”

Before the pair can say any more, the waiter comes to the table. Both Charles and Y/N put in their orders continuing the conversation once he leaves. Charles asks Y/N about her life, wanting to get to know her more as the pair had only met days prior.

“I should really give you my number, especially since we are going on a second date. It would be weird if you kept calling my mom and asking for me.” Charles laughs, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

“Yeah…sorry about that.” Y/N looks away.

“Don't worry at all, it was my mistake for not asking for your number when we first met.” Charles hands his phone to Y/N the girl typing in her information before texting herself on his phone.

Their food soon arrives, the conversation not dying down one bit. The couple talked, not once did an awkward silence fall upon them. As the sun began to set the waiter came back with the bill. Y/N starts to reach for it, but Charles is too quick.

“Please let me, the date was my idea.”

“Charles, you literally won the Monaco Grand Prix, it's the least I could do.”

“You showing up, and coming with me tonight is everything I wanted. You can get the next one if you really want to.” He hands his card to the waiter, who soon comes back with Charles' card and the receipt.

Charles and Y/N both get up, interlocking hands once more before leaving the restaurant, Charles thanking the wait staff as they leave. “Let me walk you back to your car. I don't want you walking alone.”

The two walk in silence, taking in the warm summer air, gazing at the beautiful monte carlo sights. Charles notices Y/N’s face contorting in discomfort. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, my shoes are kinda hurting, but we’re almost there.” She shrugs.

Charles stops, Y/N following his lead the pair stand on the near empty Monte Carlo sidewalk. “Here let me.” Charles bends down, putting his knee up signaling Y/N to rest her foot on top. She does so, Charles taking off her shoes for her before getting back up off the floor, shoes in hand.

“Get on.” Charles turns around, squatting down for Y/N to get on his back. Once again she does so, quickly hopping onto his back as the pair continue to venture further into the night.

They finally get back to the parking lot, Y/N unlocks her car as Charles, ever the gentleman holds her door open for him. Y/N hops off of Charles back, staring ahead at her car, looking back at Charles who's looking back at her.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, nervous for his response.

Charles lets go of the door handle. “I thought you'd never ask.” He takes the sides of her face in his hands, the two engaging in a passionate kiss. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. After a moment the pair pull back, still holding each other close.

“What a perfect way to finish the night.” Y/N smiles, pulling Charles in for another kiss.

“I couldn't have said it better myself.”

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #formula 1 #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader #monaco gp 2024 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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mew-less · 1 month ago

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💫 MOOMIN AU INTRODUCTION 💫

Welcome to the Garden AU! This has been my passion project for over 2 years, and I’m excited to finally present it to you all! I hope you will join me as I tell the story of the Garden AU to the world! :-)

Interested? Click ‘keep reading’ below to see the premise of the AU and the characters, as well as some info about the arcs!

💫 THE STORY 💫

This AU mainly follows Moomintroll and his friends as they adventure together, both inside and far outside of the valley. Their adventures start out fairly lighthearted, but when they discover that their own lives mysteriously reflect what is known about the lives of ‘The Pillars’, also known as the founders of magic, they seek to uncover the missing pieces of their stories and solve the mystery of the King’s Ruby and its uncertain origins.

💫 THE CHARACTERS 💫

(icons coming soon! technical difficulties 💔)

Moomintroll

Species: Moomin (+witch) The enthusiastic Moomintroll, the self-proclaimed “leader” of the group and aspiring adventurer. It was his idea to bring everyone together to uncover the Pillars’ stories! He may be stubborn and hotheaded at times, but the love and warmth he has for his friends will always ground him in the end. Song I associate with him: Soap by The Oh Hellos

Snufkin

Species: Half jackalope, half mumrik The mysterious Snufkin, with the unique ability to turn invisible at will. While he and Moomin initially may not have had the best start, he will always come back to the valley to greet him each spring. While he appears stable and sure, rumors spread fast, and the winds are saying he’s keeping parts of him in the dark. Song I associate with him: What’s in the Middle by The Bird and the Bee

Snorkmaiden

Species: Snork A princess living abroad in the quiet Moominvalley. Her and her brother were dropped off at the Moominhouse years ago by their mother for unknown reasons. Don’t let her sweet nature fool you, she can brew up quite a storm! Song I associate with her: Once Upon a December from Anastasia

Snork

Species: …Snork A prince to match the princess. This curious inventor isn’t a fan of magic and prefers the predictability of science, but his roots as a magical creature are at odds with his ideals. Song I associate with him: Not decided

Sniff

Species: half dragon A half-dragon that was adopted into the Moomin family many years ago after a great storm. While on the surface he seems to be a mighty selfish beast with an eye for treasure, it seems his friends may take him for granted more than they realize. Song I associate with him: Not decided

Little My

Species: Half jackalope A “halfalope” like her brother, although she doesn’t possess the same ability to turn invisible since she lacks the mumrik genes. Her snarky attitude can prove to be quite a motivator even if it gets on other’s nerves. She’s a tiny trickster who knows a lot more than she lets on! Song I associate with her: Not decided

💫 THE ARCS 💫

The story is split up into 3 main arcs. The first arc focuses on establishing relationships and the world around them, eventually leading into the beginnings of their journey in Arc 2!

💫 ARC ONE 💫

Chapters:

To Be Determined

First chapter: There’s a mysterious newcomer in Moominvalley… but Moomin is the only one who can see him!

💫 EXTRA 💫

While this AU is fairly Snufmin-centric, I have developed stories for all of the main characters and each will have their moment to shine!! I hope to bring something for everyone with the Garden AU <3

This AU will be presented in Comic form! I am a fairly busy and tired person however, and pages may come out slowly.

#moomins #moomin #snufkin #snufmin #moomins garden au #moomin au #little my #snorkmaiden #snork #snorks #sniff moomin #moominvalley #moomin fanart #moomintroll #the moomins

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charlotteking23 · 1 month ago

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The Lion's Lamb - Chapter 4 - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

The Lion's Lamb Series: Aesthetics, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7

The Dutch and American couldn't keep each other out of their thoughts for the next few days.

Max found himself wanting to be around you more often. He found something other than racing, that he felt joy to be around.

You found herself drawn to the dark and mysterious aura that the Dutchman unmistakably had. Something about him made you feel something you never felt before.

In the days since they last saw each other, Max made good use of your number. Within an hour of leaving the coffee shop, he texted you.

Since then, they've been communicating nonstop. If they weren't busy with work, they were either texting or calling each other.

It wasn't until the upcoming Thursday that you felt like Max was becoming distant with you.

You were saddened by the thought. You rarely put Yourself out there, especially towards men, but something about Max made you want to try it.

By Sunday afternoon, Max had called you, extremely excited after winning the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. It was a close race between Ferrari and Redbull, but Max ultimately won in the end.

You had spent your Sunday painting, trying to keep your thoughts clear of a certain Dutchman. You wouldn't allow herself to think about it more than you should.

You had put yourself out there and was ghosted. You wouldn't wallow in self-pity for a man You had only met once. At least that's what you told herself.

In front of you lay a painting of piercing blue eyes that stared right back at you. You stared back, getting lost in the familiar gaze before the sound of your phone ringing broke your thoughts.

Quickly grabbing the phone without looking at who was calling, you answered, "Hello?"

"Hey," you heard the rough voice of the man who has been haunting your thoughts recently.

"Max?"

"Why do you sound surprised to get my call?"

"I didn't think you would call me," You said lightly, your heart racing just from his voice. "You seemed to not want to talk to me recently."

"I'm sorry, little lamb," You heard him sigh through the phone. "I was away for work and things got busy."

"Oh," You blushed at the pet name he said, "So you weren't done with me?"

"Little lamb, you can't get rid of me that easy," you giggled at his answer before responding.

"How was the work trip then?"

"It went well, but I can't wait to come back and see you again."

"When do you come back?"

"Tonight. I'd love to see you again sometime this week."

"I would love to see you too," you bit your lip nervously. "You have to tell me all about your trip."

"I will little lamb," he chuckled.

The Redbull driver couldn't keep the smile off his face. His little lamb wanted to be around him when he came back.

He was upset that you believed him to be ignoring you when that wasn't his intention at all. Max didn't tell you that he had gone away for work. He's used to people knowing who he is.

The name Max Verstappen has become a household name overnight it seemed. After winning his World Championship title last year, especially under the circumstances, he had built a name for himself. Good and bad.

So for him, you were a breath of fresh air. Being around someone that did know him, or what he does for a living, made him feel normal. As an F1 driver, normal is hard to come by.

Daniel Ricardo, the McLaren driver, and Max's closest friend, watched him on the phone from a distance. He had never seen his friend's face light up as much as it did when speaking to whoever was on the other end.

Daniel was there for the Dutchman since the beginning of his career at Redbull. Max was his younger brother in his head and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The McLaren driver knew that the Dutchman past, knowing he hadn't had the easiest life and his life revolved around racing. After watching the Redbull driver win his first title, the Aussie watched him slowly start to become a recluse.

Riccardo knew the young driver had been struggling since his world championship title came with a lot of controversy. Max wanted to prove to everyone, including himself, that he was a great driver.

Seeing the Aussie walking towards him, the Dutchman quickly told his little lamb goodbye and that he'd call back when he got the chance.

He didn't want anyone to know about you just yet. You were his escape from reality and he refused to share that escape with anyone else in fear of losing it.

"You all good mate?" The Australian driver asked once he got closer to the other driver, noticing the small smile on his face.

"Yeah," he responded shortly, letting the smile drop from his face.

"Who were you just on the phone with?" The driver smirks at his old teammate. He couldn't help but be nosey.

Especially after noticing how quickly he got off the phone when he approached. He wouldn't be Daniel Riccardo if he didn't know any drama.

"No one," Max shook his head quickly, refusing to fall for the other man's antics.

"Did our little Dutchman find a girl?"

"No," Max deadpanned. If he told the Aussie, it wouldn't be long before Lando, the other McLaren driver knew. And the younger driver couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

"You don't smile, especially on the phone, for just anyone."

"Daniel," the younger driver sighed, knowing the smile on his friend's face meant he wasn't going to stop pushing him. "If I tell you something you will drop the subject?"

The Aussie nodded his head vigorously, his classic grin plastered on his face. He just wanted to know what was going on with his friend.

If a girl is making him this happy, he'd like to know about you.

"You can't tell anyone about her okay? I don't need this getting out especially since it just started."

"I promise I won't say anything."

"She's amazing. She's gorgeous and absolutely the most innocent human being out there," he smiles thinking about you he hopes to see tomorrow. "The best part is, she doesn't know who I am."

"She doesn't?" That surprised Daniel, seeming how almost everyone knew who he was. "I don't want to say this, but is she faking this personality to get close to you?"

"No," the Dutchman shakes his head, not even entertaining the thought, "this girl can't lie to save her life. You can see it in her eyes that she has nothing but good intentions."

"Alright," the Aussie nods, choosing to believe his friend. "Where'd you meet her?"

"Coffee shop in Monaco."

"She's from Monaco and doesn't know who you are?"

"She's American, she only moved to Monaco for work."

"An American? Should have just started with that," the McLaren driver grins, "you know how much I love Americans."

Max shakes his head at his friend's comment. Thinking to himself how right his friend is.

The McLaren driver does love Americans, everyone on the grid is pretty positive that the man is a secret American pretending to be Australian.

"Look man," Daniel says while grabbing the Redbull driver's shoulder, "if she's making you this happy, who am I to say shit."

The Dutchman gives the Aussie a slight smile, thinking about you. He can't see you fitting into his lifestyle, yet at the same time, he can't seem to want anyone but you here.

"I want to be the first one to meet her," Daniel slowly gets a mischievous look in his eyes, "I can't promise that she won't choose me instead of you once she sees this beautiful face."

Taglist: @shelbyteller, @smithieandy, @fangirlforever2000, @herexpertcollector, @vip-access

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taylormarieee · 2 months ago

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~Entranced~ sam winchester

Summary: You were a belly dancer and a singer, when Sam and Dean had to investigate you because your sister had gone missing, he couldn’t help but be entranced by you. In other words, he couldn’t help but want to get into your pants…

Word Count: 3.4k (wowzers)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x WOC!bellydancer

Warnings: porn with plot, long ass story line, obsessed sam, wingman dean, enticing reader, mentions of death and demons, typical supernatural tingz, smut, sexual tension, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, pretty lady, etc.) pussy whipped sam, sam drunk off readers love, reader is in love with sam, creampie, oral (male and fem receiving), cowgirl, use of 18+ language, MDNI!!!! enjoy cuz he's been on my mind for a long time.

A/N: ok hey guyyssss! I’ve been fantasizing about Sam ALOT lately like specifically season 2 Sammy so enjoy this smutty whoretastic slutty ass fic because I was indeed ovulating🙏🏽😭😁

*thump thump thump*

you smile as your body and hips move to the rhythm of the song. you were dancing and singing your heart out. mostly getting hollered at and whistled at along with a string of cheers. you laugh and smile as you move to the beat.

all of a sudden you feel yourself being watched. yes, that sounded stupid as there were hundreds of people watching you but these certain pair of eyes were burning. you could feel it.

you look around and walk all over the stage and that's when you see him. a man in a black suit along with another hot guy staring the same lust full daggers your way as everyone else.

but the other one, his hair was long and such a luscious brown. his eyes held one of admiration, as if you were admiring the mona lisa at an art gallery.

you liked him. he was cute, sexy even and that you certainly couldn't deny. when you got done with your performance you asked one of the security guards if they could kindly bring the two boys over to you backstage.

"hello boys, anything I can help you with?" you ask as you wipe off some sweat from your face.

"how'd you know we needed help?" the shorter one asked with a smirk on his face as he steps closer to you.

"well for starters, your both dressed in suits, sat in the back of the club all mysteriously, staring daggers right at me and shall I go on?" you list with a smile on your face.

you shift your weight from one foot to the other as you glance between the two of them.

the both of them look at each other and then chuckle. "guess you got us there" the taller one states with his charming smile.

"what are your names again? and who do you work for?" you asked as you sat down gesturing them to sit as well.

"oh I'm detective roadkill and this is detective showers." dean speaks out with a smirk.

"were FBI." he says as your face scrunches up into one of concern and confusion.

"why would FBI agents show up at our little club, no ones done anything wrong I hope, one of the main reasons we have security." you say with a dry chuckle.

"no no, not at all, uhm were looking in to the disappearance of your sister melisa?" sam asks.

"I-I don't feel like talking about it. she's not gone, she's dead." you say with tears prickling in your eyes.

"how would you possibly know that? police never found a body." dean says.

"exactly, main reason why I don't believe she disappeared or it was some freak kidnapping. even if she was kidnapped, she's been gone for 3 weeks, what are the possible chances she is alive? hm?" you say pacing and throwing your hands about.

"I know she's dead. I can feel it. It's a sibling thing, you two wouldn't understand." you explain.

"oh trust me, I get it. see I have this brother. means the world to me and yea he can be a real pain in the ass sometimes." he says with a chuckle which causes you to giggle too.

"I love him regardless because no matter how much we argue, I know he means well and just wants to protect me." sam finishes.

dean looks at him and you hum. they really thought you were stupid. you knew who they were, you just hated how these hotties could lie to you.

"sam, dean. this was a really fun talk but I don't know where my sister is." you say smirking at them with their confused faces facing you in return.

"H-How did you-"

"how did I know? oh it's pretty obvious, see word gets around that some fbi agents are asking around for my sister and then I find out you two are hunters? yea I am one of the ones that knows what's going on around here. what really goes bump in the night. what really lurks in the shadows when your not paying attention. my dad was a hunter, just like you guys. just like your dad." you say circling them as you go to pour them a drink.

"wow, that was-" sam starts.

"smart? impressive? amazingly cool?" you ask handing them the drinks.

"I was going to say hot. That was really hot but you know, those words work too." he says chuckling.

"aww thanks sam, I really appreciate it." you respond as you take a sip of your whiskey.

"ok seriously, we wanna help you. If you really know what's going on then maybe we can still save other people including your sister." sam states.

"now did you smell any sulfur in her house or maybe saw black smoke or maybe she was acting aggressive and erratically before her disappearance?" dean asks scooting up in his seat more.

"uhm not that I can recall. she was normal. my sister was a kind soul, she would never even hurt a damn fly. I mean the first week of her disappearance I thought it was her douchebag of a boyfriend. ex-boyfriend i should say, that ungrateful son of a bitch." you say with spite.

"oh so was he a suspect?" dean asks.

"ofc he was! He was the main suspect, but it was also stupid for the cops to think I would kill my own sister, like that's insanity." you argue.

"alright so, if it's not ghost or demonic possession..." dean starts.

"then what the hell is it?" sam asks. all of you shrug and sit in silence for a second.

"hey I got a question for you." dean asks you. you look up at him and nod with a hum.

"you think sammy could stay with you tonight?" dean asks. your eyes widen and sam turns to dean with a incredulous look.

"no it's fine." he turns to you and says. "I don't understand why I can't just stay at the motel dean, what the hell are you doing?" he whisper-yells to dean.

"you've been making googly eyes all freakin' night, just stop stressin' and get laid. trust me you need it. your veins popping out." he says as he clears his throat.

"so, can he? It would be really appreciated, see I have stuff to do and I don't want him to be in there alone, so maybe he can keep you company? plus we have no clue if whatever this thing is an M.O. and might come after you too." dean convincingly explains which persuades you to say...

"yea sure dean, sam it's ok. I'm cool with it, you can stay with me, i've got a cozy house." you say with a smile.

"plus I gotta get up outta here anyway, shall we?" you ask swaying your hips as you walk towards the door and walk out leading sam and dean out the back.

they watch your ass and hips sway and that beautiful little outfit you belly dancers always wore. sam couldn't keep it in anymore, he was entranced. obsessed. lured in like a moth drawn to a flame.

"here take m-my jacket. you must be cold." sam offers. you smile and accept it with a thank you, after all you were wearing a bra like top that covered little.

your hand brushed his for a mere second and it felt like electricity surged through you both.

you slide your arms through the sleeves of his jacket as you walk towards your car. your keys jingling in the process as they dangle from your hip.

you unlock the car and prop yourself in the drivers seat as same props himself in the passengers seat.

"oooo it really is cold out, thanks again for the jacket sam, don't know what I would do without you." you seductively say, without the intention of trying to be seductive but thankful instead.

"yea n-no problem. just me being me." he says as you start the engine turning up the A/C and backing out the parking lot.

sam looks out the window and notices dean in the impala with two thumbs up and a smirk on his face to which he rolls his eyes at and begs to god you don't see deans childish acts.

~ TRENTON, NEW JERSEY, 2007, 10:26PM @ YOUR HOUSE~

"get cozy, looks like your going to be here for a while." you say with a smile, shrugging off his jacket to place on the coat rack.

he takes off his shoes and makes his way immediately towards your fireplace and your couch.

you watch him trudge over there and sit down his tall lean figure finally shrinking just a bit but when he sits back up his broad shoulders are back on display.

‘god what was wrong with you.’ you thought, you just couldn’t get him out of your head.

but luckily the same goes for him because you racked his brain since the moment his eyes laid a glance at your face.

you were so enticing and enchanting, of course a guy like sam couldn’t resist, he was whipped for you so badly and you didn’t even know it.

“are you hungry sammy? can i even call you sammy or is that a you and dean thing?” you ask bringing over a bowl of grapes and some wine for you and a beer for him.

“you can call me whatever you want- i-i mean yea! you can call me sammy i don’t mind.” he stutters out nervously

you him again and take a sip of the wine straight from the bottle. sam watched as your plump and glossy lips wrap around the top of the bottle wishing it was his dick instead.

he gulps as he watches your throat bob up and down as you swallow the wine.

he quickly takes a swig of his beer and you watch his Adam’s Apple bob up and down. you watched as he wraps his lips around the beer bottles top wishing it was your clit.

the tension in the room was clearly escalating just a tiny bit. 'was it just you or is it hot in here.' you thought.

you take another sip of the wine and tuck your legs under one another as if in a criss-cross motion.

"so, what do you wanna do now? dean said he won't be back for a couple of hours." sam asks.

"honestly I usually shower and go right to bed after long nights like these, but I wasn't exactly expecting company so i'm stumped here." you say with a slight chuckle.

"yea sorry to be such a burden." sam says with a playful roll of his eyes. you scoff not seeing his eye roll and take his statement the wrong way.

"look i never said you were a burden, i'm just confused on how to entertain a fucking hunter sam." you speak with slight aggression in your tone.

"look, i was just joking with you. If you took my statement the wrong way i'm sorry. I'll totally leave." he says getting up to go grab his jacket.

'n-no sammy wait. I-fuck. I didn't mean that, i'm sorry. It's just been a really long day and I'm just stumped ok, please stay?" you apologize.

"ok, if you want to go take a shower and rest that's fine by me, i'll stay.' he says standing quite dangerously close to you.

you inhale his scent for a second, his scent bringing you comfort and warmth. you don't even realized you closed a few inches in the gap between you two.

"w-what are you doing?" sam asks. his hands stuck at his side just itching to touch you. you take note of it.

"do you wanna touch me sammy?" you asks seductively. you glide your hand up and down his chest as you stare up at him with your seductive eyes.

"w-what?" he stutters out nervously. he gulps as your hand goes lower and lower.

"I said, do you want to touch me sam." you repeat your previous question. "I know you want to, your hands are twitching." you say smugly.

"fuck, uhm yea. I do, very badly." he says as he moves his hands to grab your waist. you moan at the warmth of his hands on your body.

"I know you wanna kiss me." you whisper in his ear. your on your tiptoes as sam is much taller than you.

you grab his belt to pull him closer and that was his breaking point. his lips are immediately on yours in a feverish and desperate pent up kiss.

you both fumble with his belt and trip over each others feet. you both eventually fall to the floor letting out a fit of giggles and laughs at your clumsy shenanigans.

"fuck, your so gorgeous you know that?" sam compliments. you smile and kiss him again.

"and your so handsome, thank god your parents got together." you say with a grin as you unclip your bra.

he unbuttoned his nicely pressed shirt and unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants.

your both crawling towards the couch now, sam ripping off the cushions and you taking off the rest of your outfit leaving you in your underwear only.

pretty black laced panties to match your outfit. his eyes bulged out of his head at the sight of you. your body was gorgeous. everything about you was gorgeous, your personality as well.

"god damn your beautiful." he whispers as he sinks into the couch and you climb on top of him.

"thank you sammy. can you please fuck me now." you ask.

with a primal like growl, sam rolls you over so he's now on top of you. "oh sweetheart, gotta prep you first. don't think you can take big ole me by yourself now can you?" he teases as he kissed down your body.

after an agonizingly long trip downwards, his lips finally coming in contact with the place you've been wanting him most all night.

his warm breath hits your soaking entrance and his skilfully long tongue teases your clit.

"f-fuck sammy, pleasee-ngh- please just fuck me I'll be a good girl for you p-please." you beg as you feel one finger slot itself inside of you.

you moan out at the feeling. the feeling of pain and pleasure combined as he stretches you out. 'fuck you haven't felt this good since your last boyfriend.' you thought.

your brain was soonly erased by the feeling of sam's second finger entering your dripping hole. his lips whispering dirty things into your cunt as he licks and slurps your cunt.

you tug on his hair and cry out his name, how can someone fingers and tongue work so skillfully together at the same time.

"yes sam! right fucking there, fuck fuck fuck-ngh-ugh! yea yea, holy shit daddy!" you scream out.

he moans into your cunt at hearing you call him daddy. you were a lot younger than him, he was 5 years older than you. he loved this dominance he had over you, but he became feral whenever you tugged his hair.

desperate to get off as he ruts himself against the couch. a feeling of ecstacy washing over you and determination washing over sam. he was going to make you cum and then he was gonna rearrange your guts like never before.

your walla clench and tighten around him and he groans at how rough your tugging on his lucious brown locks. your crying his name out like a prayer over and over again.

you moan one last time before silently letting out a scream as you convulse and shake as your orgasm floods your entire body.

"oohhhh fuckkk!" you moan out as your orgasmic feeling washes away intensely.

"was I good baby?'" sam asks curiously. his lips stained with your arousal and essence. you grab his face pulling him closer to you as you kiss him sloppily getting a taste of yourself off of his tongue.

"you did amazing baby, now lemme help you. looks painful." you suggest staring at his rock hard boner through his boxers.

a wet patch on the front from his precum and getting himself all worked up.

you let him sit on the couch normally and tug his boxers down slowly. he whines when the refreshing air hits his tip.

his tip is a pretty color, a nice hue of pink. ready... waiting to be sucked and fucked on.

you lick the precum around his tip and on his shaft. you engulf his tip in your mouth wanting to get more of a taste and he moans. he watches your pretty lips engulf him and swallow him whole.

he holds the back of your head pushing you down further and getting lost in the haze of lust. he moans out your name a little louder each time you gag around him.

your throat was so wet and so warm. your saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth. you mascara surrounding the under parts of your eyes as tears stream down your face in slow motion.

your head bobs faster and faster, you gagging each time but you didn't care you wanted to taste his cum inside your mouth, you wanted it so deep down your throat that you wouldn't stop until he was crying.

you wanted sam winchester and sam winchester wanted you.

he pushes you off him quickly when he feels his release approaching.

"no no wait i'm gonna cum! I don't wanna cum like this, I want it inside you. wanna creampie you and give y-you babies." he whines out.

you smirk and kiss him softly, "ok sam. gimme all your babies, come inside me like a good little boy hmm?" you asks seductively as you push sweaty strands of hair out of his pretty face.

you climb back on top of him and sink slowly down on to him. you cry out a bit at the pain of the stretch, he really was a big boy.

"he whines and the grip on your waist tightens. you moan and feel his cock slowly piercing you more and more and the feeling of pain easily subsides once he's in you all the way.

"I'm going to start moving now ok sam?" you confirm and he nods with a hazy smile.

he's drunk of you. eyes and mind entranced by you. filled with you. he's literally inside you. he's encompassed by you, your smell, your words. everything.

sam winchester is a simp for you and there's nothing that could change his mind.

your bounces start off slow and then they rapidly speed up in pace. your both moaning and groaning, incapable of holding them in any longer.

you needed to hear him as he needed to hear you. he honeslt ydidn't think hearing you moan could get him any more harder but it did.

you were both close now, on to your second orgasm of the night while trying to get him off on his first.

"sammy I-fuck-ngh. I love you so much sam, please give me your babies please!" you scream out as you gush all over his cock. "come on cum in me please!" you scream out.

sam groans as his climax hits him like a wave, he explodes. loads and loads of semen just squirting inside you. you sigh a sigh of happiness and content.

he was filled to the brim with cum and it was just never ending. he stays inside you for a bit, slowly but weakly thrusting up into you to keep his cum inside you.

your both panting and out of breath. he smiles and you do to giving him a long and passionate kiss.

"hey." you say with a giggle

"hey beautiful." he says chuckling.

"wanna go upstairs with me to you know, rinse the night off?" you asks with a smile as you slowly slip off his cock, hissing as you do so.

before sam can even respond your losing your balance causing you to fall over. you grab onto the fireplace mantle for stability as sam gets up to help you.

he grabs on to your waist and holds you there before smirking and picking you up bridal style.

"let's go get that shower huh? and then you are going to bed pretty lady." he says with a smirk.

your face is flushed even more than before and your flustered before wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling into his embrace.

Taglist: @dollyfl1rt @itzdarling @sammyluvr @liliesdiary @ribbonprincess @bellahadidnt16 @iilovefictionalpeople @aerangi @keiva1000 @madafton @niktwazny303 @prettyluhdavis @kqmbr1a + anyone else who wants to join

A/N: Sorry to all the people who were in my taglist box and i never tagged you in my latest works, i'm so sorry i forgot to check it, I hope you all and others enjoy this one!

#my man <3 #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sammy winchester #supernatural fanfiction #sam supernatural #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam

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idontknowwhatimdoinglol · 9 months ago

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Yandere Olympus x human reader (headcanons)

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you were a mortal girl who had been taken in by the gods as a child. in return for this you lived amongst them working as a servant, since there were so many nymphs already there wasn't much for you to do but you always kept busy. one of the goddesses who had cared for you since childhood, aphrodite, had kept you close to her at all times rarely letting you go far from her gaze. you would help her with small tasks such as picking her jewelry for the day or helping her make new clothes, that was a more painful task. "i will never get this stitch done if you dont hold still!" the goddess complains trying to stick the needle through the fabric. "it hurts, you keep poking me" you complain trying to move away but she grabs your arm and holds you still. "i just need to make a few more stitches and-" she starts before getting cut off by the new presence in the room. "aphrodite may i speak with you" the commanding voice of hera calls from the entrance of the room. "why of course." she answers pinning the fabric together. "dont move my darling, you wouldn't want to ruin my flawless stitch work now would you?" she smirks before walking to hera, both far enough away for you to not hear what they were saying. one of hera's loyal crows had landed on a stool next to you cawing, you bent down and let it jump onto your finger petting its head. "hello pretty bird" you smile as it ruffles its feathers, nuzzling its head against your hand. "may i ask what you are doing?" hera's voice comes into the room. the bird flys from your hand onto her shoulder instead. "i-im sorry my goddess, i was simply petting your bird. they're lovely" you complement earning a nod. aphrodite comes back in and takes the fabric she had been sowing off of you. "oh dear you have so many scratches from the pins, you should see apollo he would be happy to heal them for you." she suggests hiding a smile behind you. you nod walking from her room. you were greeted by a few gods on your way to find apollo with smiles and waves, before you reached apollos temple you were stopped by the queen of the gods herself. "come with me mortal" she says waiting for you to follow. though your scratches stung you feared hera's reaction more if you disobeyed her "yes my goddess" you say following behind her. she leads you to her private room before sitting on a chair. "pour me some tea" she commands with a smirk, enjoying having you to herself. you hand her a cup of hot tea and stand near her "is there anything else you need my goddess?" you ask tilting your head. she thinks for a moment before using her powers to bring you to her lap, with a surprised gasp you are put on her lap like a child. she takes your arm that had scratches and small pin pricks from the sowing pins. "she really should be more careful with such a fragile thing such as you." the goddess mumbles. she grabs a piece of fabric from the table near her and wraps it around your arm. the two of you are interrupted by aphrodite clearing her throat from the entrance of the room. "i was worried that my little mortal had run away when apollo had not seen them yet. but i should've known they would be here, you always have liked to steal them away for yourself." aphrodite laughs with hints of jealousy. "then why dont you join us for some tea?" hera suggests. gesturing to a chair across from her. "well if you insist, only if i get a turn with our darling to" she smirks sitting down. this was your normal on olympus, being fought over by the gods. you had thought it was simply because they liked your company or help, if only you knew how much they truly loved you.

your usual day on olympus consists of at least 2 or more gods trying to steal your attention, whether its the hermes giving you flowers or other gifts he finds in the mortal realm or one of his brothers trying to one up him or if aphrodite demands a beauty day with her and artemis.

above all their fighting they still follow rules, giving an angry gglare or pouty face when another god that is more powerful steals you away. hera is famous for this, stealing you to help with the most minor tasks just so others cannot have you. only sharing with one of her friends or children.

when heron is brought to olympus things do shift. hera of course is horribly angry but doesn't start the war in this world because she knows that you would most likely end up hurt or she would be banished from olympus never to see you again. so instead she glares from afar.

you are not let anywhere near heron at first, being kept away by hera or ares. eventually though you manage to meet him and he was very kind to you, taking after the rest of his family and quickly becoming a yandere for you aswell.

of course he quickly is told that you are simply to be seen as a sibling not anything more. the gods dont want you dating because that may lead to them not getting as much of you or worse, you leaving them.

they refuse to let you grow old. once you turn a certain age they will turn you imortal whether you agree or not. youre theirs for eternity and no one or nothing will stop that.

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#blood of zeus #bloodofzeus #greek mythology fic #greek gods #greek mythology #greek mythology headcanons #yandere blood of zeus #blood of zeus x reader #blood of zeus headcanons #yandere #yandere blood of zeus x reader #greekmyhtho #greekmytho

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soy-garbage · 10 months ago

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JJK SMAU RECOMMENDATIONS ! PART 2 !!

Hello everyone!! I finally got around to do part 2 of jjk smaus!! hope y'all enjoy it and again all the credit for the works goes to the amazing authors who made them, and if you wrote any of these and are seeing my post: AAA Thank you for the great content!!! ≧◡≦<33 keep being amazing!! (part 1 here!)

(Completed: ✿)

(On going: ★)

･:*SMAU SERIES! :

SpellBound / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// By no means did you hate soulmates, you just hated that he was your soulmate. not like megumi was ecstatic that he was your soulmate either. but that’s fine, both of you found someone else to keep you company.

Show Me How / Yuta Okkotsu x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// What happens when fans catch you eyeing yuta on your friends stream? could it be something more?

Soft and Lightweight / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// In which megumi confesses to his sister's best friend after accidentally drinking at a party and how they try to go back to their original relationship afterwards. However, no matter how much they try to ignore each other and act like everything's okay, the awkward tension and growing heartbeats cannot be hidden.

You Always Had Me / Gojo Satoru x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// what would you do if your hot best friend agreed to fake date you to make your ex-boyfriend jealous? Will it ruin your friendship or will it prevail into something more?

≡Open Chat ≡Open CH / Gojo Satoru x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// Two streaming groups are introduced to one another through their chat and find out they happen to go to the same university. When they decide to collaborate an interesting bond begins to form between two individuals. When the internet is involved within your love life it’s natural that things begin to turn rocky, especially when the two has a not so cute background following them.. how do they get their name out there and release to the media that things aren’t as they seem? or how do they do they come to terms that they’ve became closer then they’ve realized.

Fashion Flirt / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// You’re a fashion student in your first year of college, beginning the end of 2nd semester project, which just so happens to be designing a collection of 3 outfits to be modeled at a fashion show in late May. Your classes host model auditions for designers like you to go pick your models. While everyone is able to write down a max of 20 people, there’s one boy that catches your eye you hope ends up in your final 3.

Sleepless Nights / Yuta Okkotsu/Toge Inumaki x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// Your second year of high school was supposed to be as boring as every other year, and for a while, that's exactly how it was. But an unexpected encounter with a mysterious boy one night suddenly makes your life more interesting.

Falling for you (and your streams!) / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// Yn, a streamer who is roommates with Maki, Toge and Yuta, meets Maki's girlfriend on a certain stream. But what happens when Yn catches the eye of Nobara's best friend?

Flirting and Caffeine / Nanami Kento x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// where yn, a newly hired barista (thanks to her brother) who also happens to master the reversed curse technique, meets Nanami Kento, a grade 1 sorcerer who favours the specific cafe that yn has started working at. He suddenly favours that cafe a little more than usual.

･:*SMAU ACCOUNTS! :

@lilsillycat

@saintkaylaa

@inmaki

@threewholeants

That's it!! if y'all would like me to do another part, please let me know!!!

check out all the accounts i tagged! i love their content and i'm sure you will too<3

thank you for reading ♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡

( All the credit of the smaus goes to the accounts who made them! : @4phskingdom @strawberri-elixir @bryngmemoney @wmuffy @satoluv @bbunisre @satcrvz @todayisawthewhxlewxrld )

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smau #megumi fushiguro #smau #gojo satoru smau #jjk texts #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #nanami kento smau #nanami kento x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader

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stevie-petey · 11 months ago

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episode one: MADMAX

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him. “I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual. It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Summary: what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, descriptions of PTSD (slightly), swearing, and general angst and exhaustion

Words: 5.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! welcome back to the rewrite, hope yall are well :) heres chapter 1 of season 2 !!! so so so excited and ready to dive into this new season. things get a bit darker, feelings get even MORE complicated, and poor reader just really needs to take a fat nap and maybe some reassuring words. shes more angsty this season, so buckle up

October 29th, 1984

You originally gave Dustin the phone number to Bookstrordinary in case of any emergencies.

Now, you’re really starting to regret it.

For the fifth time this week, Dustin calls you at work to beg for money. Him and the boys recently started going to an arcade that’s opened up in town and have spent practically every day after school there this year. Sure, you don’t mind loaning your brother a few quarters, but at the rate he’s going he’s gonna drain your next paycheck.

Just as you’re thinking this, the phone rings.

Right on cue.

Alex, your coworker, smirks. “How much do you think he’ll ask for this time?”

“If I’m lucky, only a dollar.”

“Will asked me for three tonight, so I wouldn’t jinx anything.”

You gape at Jonathan, who has started hanging around your job after school just to have something to do. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” he laughs, pointing towards the phone on the counter. “Answer before Dustin sends a drone our way.”

You sigh and pick up the phone, which is on its second round of calling, and put on your best customer service voice. “You’ve reached Bookstrordinary, may I ask who is calling?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

“Aw, I’m doing well tonight. Thanks for asking, Dustin.”

“I need five dollars.”

“Ya know, ‘please’ has such a nice ring to it.”

“... if I say please, will you give me the money?”

“No.”

Silence fills the other end. Alex and Jonathan are hunched together, trying to stifle their laughs. You send them a thumbs up, and they give you one back.

“You’re a horrible sister.”

“What!” You scoff at Dustin. “I think you owe me like, at least ten bucks now. Yet you don’t see me complaining.”

A loud groan, then an obnoxious scream. “I promise I’ll clean Mews’ litter box for a week straight if you just give me the money.”

“Tempting, and honestly I’d take you up on that offer, but I already spent my last paycheck on my Halloween costume. You’re outta luck.”

Dustin gasps. “You were gonna say no this whole time? You just wasted like, at least five minutes of my time! I could’ve been digging through the couch for coins by now!”

“Jesus,” you pull the phone away from your face as Dustin continues to shout. Jonathan lets out a loud cackle and Alex just shakes his head. “I can give you some money next week–”

The line cuts off. Dustin has hung up.

What a little shit.

“You remind me why I’m grateful I’m an only child.” Alex says, now walking from behind the counter to begin stacking some books. Technically your shift ended almost thirty minutes ago, but you and Jonathan prefer to hang around for a while. It’s rare to have some time with just the two of you (even if Alex is there as an unfortunate third wheel).

“Glad I can help.” You respond. Once he’s gone, you turn to Jonathan. “And you were right, Dustin indeed wanted more than Will’s measly three bucks.”

He laughs. “Figured as much. The look on your face was genuine disbelief when he asked.”

“Mhm, I’m scared these boys will turn into horrendous teens. The lack of gentlemen in Hawkins these days is astounding.”

“C’mon, I’d say I’m a gentleman. I mean, I’m riding on your bike pegs tonight to keep you safe.” Jonathan says, waving an arm in front of his body as if to present all his gentleman-ness to you.

“Sure, bee.” Although, he has a point. Joyce has the car tonight so she can drive Will to the arcade and Jonathan doesn’t like you biking home in the dark. After what happened last year, none of the Byers are particularly keen on letting their loved ones go off alone at night. So, to ensure your safety, Jonathan has started riding on your bike pegs all the way home.

It’s endearing really, wholly unnecessary, but endearing.

Jonathan flicks your nose. “Who else would be such a gentleman to you? Steve?”

Hearing Steve’s name sends a wave of varying emotions through you. Guilt, shame, remorse, longing. You miss him. You really, really miss him.

“I thought we agreed to stop talking about Steve.” You mumble, now busying yourself with a piece of paper on the counter.

After Will was found last year, you and Steve had gotten really close. He’d spend hours bugging you at work, he’d gotten you such a lovely Christmas gift that still hangs on your wall, and you’d grown close with him in a way you haven’t before with anyone else. He would’ve done anything for you, he cared about you with such genuineness, and you couldn’t handle it.

Summer came and the heat that came with it scared you.

You’d pushed Steve away, severed any connection you had to him. It was easier when you didn’t have to see him every day at school, but ever since junior year started, you’ve been in your own personal hell.

Steve walks past you in the halls without batting an eye. He doesn’t look your way, like the months you spent learning every inch of his wonderfully unique brain and the moles scattered along his face never happened; he doesn’t give you that smile that makes your knees weak. He’s avoided you like the fucking plague, which you can’t blame him for, but it’s only made things more awkward between him, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

Jonathan sighs. “I’m sorry, bug. I just… he seemed good for you, ya know? I was actually starting to like the guy before you suddenly stopped hanging around him.”

You play with the piece of paper, hoping that if you don’t respond then Jonathan will just drop the subject, but a thought seems to cross his mind.

“Wait a minute. Steve didn’t like, hurt you or anything, right?” You don’t respond again and now he’s starting to get worried. “Y/N, I’m serious. Did he do something to you?”

The irony of the situation is so comical you want to laugh. Here Jonathan is, demanding to know if Steve hurt you and if that’s why you’ve stopped being his friend, when in reality it’d been Jonathan who hurt you. Jonathan, your oldest and dearest friend, is the reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting Steve in. Of falling in love with him.

You’re already in love with Jonathan, you can’t put yourself through any more hurt.

But fuck, you miss Steve. You’d come to rely on him and his obnoxious sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. The way he so effortlessly filled the room with warmth.

“Relax, bee. He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to focus on Will and the boys more.” You lie through your teeth.

He gives you a funny look. “I know you care about the boys, but you know they’d want you to have some other friends.”

“I have you, that’s all I need.”

It’s all I can afford.

“Bug, I’m worried about you. You’ve all but thrown yourself into school, you work non stop here, and when you finally have some free time you’re spending it researching child psych for Will–”

“Just drop it, Jonathan!” You finally snap at your friend.

He stops, surprised by your outburst. He can see the angry flush in your cheeks now and the slight heavy breathing you do to try and calm yourself down. Jonathan drops his shoulders, defeated. He’s been worried about you ever since junior year started. You’re more withdrawn, you look like you haven’t slept at all, and now you don’t even feel comfortable telling him what’s been bothering you.

All Jonathan knows is that one day you were glowing while telling him a story about Steve and his stupid jokes, then the next day you looked frail and sickly as you told him that Steve was no longer visiting you at work.

Something happened between you two, he’s just not sure what or how to even help.

For once, Jonathan is at a loss.

–

“And then she chased Mike all the way down the street for her money! He got away!” Jonathan finishes his story with a grand flourish, laughing and hitting his steering wheel as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You let out a weak laugh, exhausted from the night before. It’s early morning and you’re in the school parking lot, hanging in Jonathan’s car as always, and you feel like utter shit. You stayed up late last night reading this journal you’d found in the school library about acute trauma in children. It had been fascinating and there were some things you thought could apply to Will. Before you knew it, it had been three in the morning and you needed to be up soon for school.

Which leads you to now: slouched in the passenger seat, sunglasses over your eyes to block out the annoying sun, tiredly listening to Jonathan’s recounting of his phone call with Nancy from last night. Apparently they’ve progressed to nightly phone calls now.

Lovely.

Without meaning to, your eyes start to drift shut. The car is the perfect cozy kind of warm and the late October air wraps around you as if to lull you to sleep. Jonathan notices you’ve gone quiet and pokes your cheek.

“If you fell asleep I’ll tell your mom and she’ll put you back on house arrest.”

You slap his hand away. “Don’t do that, then she’ll just ban me from your house.”

“You were up all night researching again, weren’t you.”

“If you have to ask, then that’s probably your answer.”

“Y/N–”

You put a finger up, using your other hand to rub at your temples. A headache is forming and you’re three seconds away from just skipping first period to nap in the car. “We aren’t doing this again. Drop it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s my job to worry about you–”

“And it’s my job to tell you to fuck off whenever you’re getting on my nerves–”

Suddenly a loud blue camaro comes speeding into the school parking lot, effectively drowning out whatever you’d been saying to Jonathan. The car revs its engine and almost hits a few students as it jerks its tires and then screeches to a halt, parking right next to you guys.

You and Jonathan look at each other.

“What the fuck?” You look out your window and are greeted with the sight of an attractive blond guy staring at you. His music is blasting so loud you can hear it through Jonathan’s windows.

“Jonathan,” you whisper, getting his attention. “Am I really tired or is there a guy with a god awful mullet staring at me right now?”

“He’s real.”

“Cool.” You continue to stare at the guy, unsure what to do. You’ve never seen him before, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that in Hawkins. He’s attractive, almost unappealingly attractive, and there’s a coldness to his beauty that makes you uncomfortable. He looks dangerous, like he knows how much power his beauty brings him.

The boy winks at you, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, and then gets out of the car, slamming his door rather harshly. It’s then that you notice the redhead girl, much younger than him, possibly around Dustin’s age, getting out of the car as well. She slams her own door and doesn’t even spare the guy a glance as she drops her skateboard down and rides towards the middle school across the parking lot.

Meanwhile the boy saunters inside, a lazy pace in his step that also holds immense confidence. He’s cocky, cool and collected, and he takes one last look around, as if to survey his new claimed battleground. You notice a few of your classmates gazing at him with interest, which you don’t really understand. He’s hot, but his attitude alone tells you everything you need to know about him.

Once he’s gone, Jonathan finally speaks. “Who was that guy?”

“No clue,” your eyes linger on the doors he’s just walked through. There’s something off about him. “But I don’t think we want to know… C’mon, if we don’t head in now we’ll be late for our first class.”

–

During your lunch period everyone’s buzzing about some upcoming Halloween party. As you’re walking towards your locker with Jonathan, you notice a few pieces of orange paper being passed around. You don’t pay much attention to them, but when Nancy joins you two she eagerly takes a few from the girl passing them out.

Nancy playfully shoves the papers at you and Jonathan. “You guys are totally coming to this.”

“We are?” You ask, eyeing the flyer wearily. You have nothing against parties, but the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers in horrible costumes is frankly terrifying to you.

“You sure are, Y/N.”

“But Nancy–”

“‘Come and get sheet faced’.” Jonathan reads aloud. “Yeah, Nance. I think we’ll pass.”

Nancy groans. “I can’t let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Actually,” you correct her, annoyed by the assumption, “we have a tradition with the boys. We take them out every year to trick or treat and it’s always been fun. We won’t be ‘alone’.”

“No offense, Y/N, but spending Halloween with a bunch of middle schoolers isn’t much better.”

You make a face and look over at Jonathan for help, but he shrugs. “You gotta admit, it is kinda lame.”

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this–”

Nancy smiles at this. “See? Plus, I doubt trick or treating with the boys will take all night. You’ll be home by 8:00, and Jonathan will be listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something, while you, my dear Y/N, will be baking a fresh batch of cookies and throwing away all the candy corn you find.”

“Sounds like a nice night.” Jonathan responds, and you nudge your shoulder with his. It does sound like a nice night, one you’re looking forward to.

“I forgive you for your earlier betrayal.”

“Guys!” Nancy stops at her locker now, slight frustration in her voice. “Just… Come on! I mean, who knows? You guys might meet someone and–”

Her words are cut off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted in the air and spun around, Steve having snuck up behind her. Nancy now puts all her attention on him, he has his arms wrapped low on her waist and he’s wearing sunglasses inside like some idiot, and your heart hurts. He looks good, too good.

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.

“I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.

It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Steve, as if sensing what you’re thinking, risks a look at you. Your eyes meet his and for a brief second no one else exists anymore. It’s just you and him in the small Hawkins high school hallway, where he’s yours again in a way that’s clouded with “almost” and “not enough”, and you want to tell him how lovely he is and how horrible you feel for hurting him, but then he diverts his gaze and focuses back on Nancy and you’re thrown back into reality.

He isn’t yours. Hell, he isn’t even your friend anymore, and you’re the one to blame.

Once Nancy and Steve start kissing, you share a disgusted look with Jonathan and silently agree to leave.

“Young love, huh?” Jonathan jokes bitterly when you’ve left them behind.

“I hate it.”

And you do.

You’re really starting to hate this whole “love” thing.

–

The only highlight so far this school year has been you and Will growing even closer. When Jonathan told you that Will started seeing the Hawkins Lab people for treatment and to see how he’s been recovering, you pulled Joyce aside later that night to ask if it’d be okay if you spoke with Will yourself. Since everything that happened last year, you’ve only become more interested in psychology, and you’d be lying if you said Will wasn’t an interesting case study.

You told Joyce that you’d been doing your own research, reading journals upon journals, and she made you a deal. You could help Will as long as you also took care of yourself, that you wouldn’t place an even heavier burden upon yourself. Of course you agreed, promising her you wouldn’t, and that’s how your weekly chats with Will began.

Jonathan had been against it at first, telling you that you didn’t have to worry about Will because you already do everything else for the kids. You told him you could handle it, and secretly you liked helping Will because you were able to pour all your anxiety and complex feelings for Steve into research and studying. It was a win-win in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Waters had been extremely understanding when you asked for Wednesdays off. After all, you’d been working at Bookstrordinary for almost three years now, so she was quick to make the accommodation.

Now here you are, another Wednesday spent at the Byers’ home. You’re sitting with Will in his bed, the both of you quietly scribbling with his crayons. You’ve learned that he’s more receptive if you draw with him, if you take your time.

“How was Dr. Owens today?”

Will pauses mid-scribble. “Fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Nothing else?” Your head is down so he doesn’t think you’re studying his reactions, but you keep an eye on him anyways.

“Yeah. I told him about my latest episode.”

“You had another one? Would you like to tell me when?”

Will thinks for a moment, and you tell him that he of course doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

“Last night. I was back in the Upside Down… and there was this… this thing.”

Now you stop drawing. “Like the monster we killed last year?”

“Different,” he shakes his head. “This thing was evil.”

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room, and you can see his growing unease, so you decide to put the topic to rest for now. Clearly the episodes are getting worse, scaring him more, so you shift gears.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for the episodes, but besides them how have you been feeling? Is school getting any better?” Earlier this month Will had confessed to you about the kids in school calling him “zombie boy” and treating him like a freak. You did your best to comfort him, and once you finished your chat with the boy you’d gone to Joyce to let her know.

Will sighs. “School is… school.”

You reach out and move some hair out of Will’s face. “I’m sorry, little bee. Middle schoolers are idiots, they’ll never understand how much you went through. I mean, I had to face that monster for only about twenty minutes. You had to hide from it for days, so you’re honestly incredibly braver than me.”

This gets a smile out of Will, which you’re relieved by. He’s been quiet lately, more closed off, and you’re worried that with the one year anniversary coming up, his episodes will only get worse.

A knock on the door, and then Jonathan pokes his head in. “Hey, guys. Mind if I join?”

“Actually, I think I should go. Bob’s been begging me for my cookie recipe, so I’ll leave you two alone.” You send a look Will’s way, a you better talk to your brother about this look, and he weakly nods his head.

As you walk past Jonathan out the door, you lean in close to Jonathan and whisper, “he’s struggling at school. Be gentle, kids can be fucking awful.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, silently thanking you, and you close the door behind you. While you want to help Will, make sure he’s adapting well, you also recognize your limits. He’s not your brother, Jonathan is, and you know he’ll be more open with him.

Joyce is in the kitchen with Bob, making some popcorn over the stove. He’s filming her with his ridiculously large camera and you can’t help but smile as you watch them. Joyce looks so happy around the guy, laughing more than she’s laughed in the last five or so years you’ve known her. She deserves this, she deserves a guy like Bob. Sweet, slightly silly, but good.

When Joyce sees you lingering in the doorway, she waves you in. “Hey, honey. Any luck with Will tonight?”

“A bit, he told me some of what’s happening at school. He still seems… off, but at least he was opening up. It’s a good sign.”

Joyce hums, but you can sense that there’s more on her mind. You look around to make sure Bob isn’t near, he’s busy digging through a cabinet to find a clean bowl, so you move closer to the woman and lower your voice. “What did Dr. Owens say this time?”

“Claims we need to just pretend everything is okay, despite the fact that it’s getting worse.”

There’s an edge in Joyce’s voice, so you’re careful with your words. “Well… I think he’s right.”

“You do?” Joyce turns to you, her voice loud with surprise, before she quickly remembers Bob is near and lowers it again. “Why do you think that?”

“I was up late reading a new journal I found about acute trauma in children. It’s been almost a year since Will disappeared, he spent days in complete fear, almost died… I mean, it makes sense that his body is remembering those traumatic effects.”

“So you think we should just leave Will alone, let him suffer through his episodes without any help?” There’s more confusion and fear than anger in Joyce’s voice, and you rest your hand against her arm.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but the best studies we have all show that we have to let those who suffer from post-traumatic stress adapt at their own pace, through their own ways. They hate feeling pitied, and I have a feeling Will is starting to as well.”

Joyce turns the stove off and shakes her head at you. “You sound like Hop. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” you chuckle, now helping the woman peel off the foil and sprinkle some salt onto the popcorn. “He just reminds me too much of my dad, and we all know how that ends.”

“Well if you ask me, I think it’s because you two are so similar.”

You gasp. “How dare you!”

Joyce laughs and the seriousness from the previous conversation dissipates. Bob finds a clean bowl and together you and him pour the fresh popcorn in as Joyce prepares the drinks. They’re having a movie night together, and you want to cry because of how adorable it all is. Joyce deserves this.

“You know you’re welcome to join us tonight, Y/N. It’s Will’s turn to choose the movie.” Joyce tells you, but you politely decline.

“Normally I’d love to, but I should get going. I have some homework and I promised Dustin I’d bake him some Halloween treats.”

“Oh!” Bob turns to you. “Speaking of, you promised you’d give me that recipe of yours!”

You and Joyce share an amused look. “You caught me, I did. I’ll write it down right now and you have to swear that no one else will look at this. Deal?”

Bob nods, ecstatic, and you grab a piece of paper and quickly scribble down all the ingredients he’ll need and how to make the cookies. Joyce watches fondly, and you fill with warmth having pleased her. When you’re done, you hand the paper over to Bob and make him cross his heart, just to be extra sure he won’t reveal all your secrets.

“Scout’s honor!”

“Very good then, soldier.” You salute him, and then pull Joyce into a hug. “I really gotta go now. Can you tell Jonathan I said goodbye?”

“Of course, bike home safe, alright?”

You wink at her. “Scout’s honor.”

Bob lets out a loud cackle and you can’t believe that this guy is real, but Joyce is laughing along with him and you’re pleased she’s found someone as endearing and kind as him.

–

As soon as you get home you throw down your backpack and bunker down at the kitchen table. Your mom isn’t back from work yet and Dustin seems to be off somewhere doing god knows what, so it’s just you and Mews for now.

Mews plops herself on the table next to an essay you’ve been working on and you scratch her head as you work. You get lost in your writing, humming softly to yourself, enjoying this small moment of peace.

You won’t admit this to Jonathan, but he’s right. You’ve been overworking yourself, your body aches and your eyes droop with exhaustion almost every day now. But keeping yourself busy is what’s helping you stay afloat. The more you pile onto yourself, the less time you have to think about Steve and his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid face.

In the middle of one of your sentences, Dustin flings the front door open and scares you. “Jesus, dude!”

He doesn’t spare you a glance, but when he sees Mews on the table with you he suddenly looks a bit alarmed. “Mews is here?”

“Yeah…? She’s helping me with this english essay.” You respond, confused.

“Huh,” Dustin thinks for a second, but seems to shrug it off. “Anyways, I’m home.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you gonna ask about my day?”

“How was your day, my dear brother.”

Dustin hops onto the table and shimmies his shoulders. “I met a girl.”

“What?” You drop your pencil in shock and Mews scatters, your exclaim having frightened her.

“Don’t act too surprised, geesh.” Your brother rolls his eyes, but then he frowns. “Actually, technically speaking I haven’t met her yet, but–”

“You have a crush?” You’re in shock. In your eyes, Dustin is still a baby, no older than six years old. And yet here is he, thirteen and talking to you about a girl.

“Yes, Y/N. Her name is Max, she has red hair and is new, and she’s totally awesome.”

Red hair? You remember seeing that girl in the parking lot earlier today. “Was she with that weird new guy, the one with a mullet?”

Dustin nods, so you poke him in the stomach and ooh at him. “I saw her this morning, she was prettyyyy.”

He shoves your finger away and blushes, which you find adorable. Dustin’s first ever crush, you can’t believe how old he is now.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also just awesome. I think she’s the one with the new high score on Dig Dug.”

“Dig Dug?”

Your brother scoffs. “The arcade game the party always plays? Honestly, do you not listen when I tell you about my days?”

“Alright, fine. If you can remember what I told you I did yesterday, then I’ll apologize for not listening better.”

Dustin closes his mouth, unable to recall a thing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick his hat. “Anyways, since you officially like girls now, I’ve been dying to give you some girl advice.”

“Y/N–” Dustin groans, but you shush him.

“First things first, always be a gentleman. Max does indeed seem cool, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a nice and polite young man like yourself.”

Dustin nods. “Okay, be kind. Got it.”

“Good. Now secondly, we Hendersons are charming people, so just be yourself.”

“Duh,”

“Lastly, if she shows interest, tell her how you feel. Better you’re honest and true about how you feel rather than hide it and sulk.”

Dustin snorts. “Says you.”

You look away from him, slightly hurt. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“C’mon, Y/N. When are you gonna tell Jonathan you love him? I mean, everyone knows you do, it’s about time you confess.” Dustin drones on, unaware of your hurt feelings. “And he’s obviously in love with you, you guys are disgusting to be around–”

“He doesn’t love me back.” You whisper, looking down at your paper. You feel pathetic, confessing this to your little brother.

Dustin freezes, now realizing you’ve gone quiet. He can feel your mood darken and he feels like shit for not noticing it sooner. He’s upset you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he did, I mean the party and I all assumed…”

His words fade off, and you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It’s embarrassing, you shouldn’t be pitied like this by your brother. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“Y/N–”

You get up from the table and gather your things, shoving them into your backpack. “I’m gonna finish up this essay in my room, then I promise I’ll start baking those marshmallow puffs you like–”

Dustin jumps down from the table and blocks you from leaving the kitchen. “Jonathan is an ass–”

“Language–”

He doesn’t let you interrupt. “You’re cool, he’s stupid, and I’m here for you. Alright? Don’t make me pull a code blue on you.”

You wrap your brother into your arms, something he hadn’t been expecting, and allow yourself a small laugh. “No need for a code blue, I promise. Just, give me like an hour to sulk and then I’ll be as good as new. Okay?”

When you pull away, Dustin eyes you, but understands he won’t win this argument. The two of you handle your emotions the same way: alone, in solitude, away from prying eyes. He knows you just need some time to yourself, but he still feels like a jerk for upsetting you in the first place. “Fine, but if you’re sulking later I’ll flick your nose.”

You flick his nose and then quickly flee to your room, Dustin not far behind you. “Flicked you first!”

“Not fair!”

You slam your bedroom door and giggle as you lock it. Dustin bangs on the door, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. You tell him you’ll be out as soon as you’re done with your essay, and then go and sit down at your desk. Sighing, you dig into your bag and pull out what you need. Without meaning to, you look up and see your Spider-Man poster, your wonderful Christmas gift from Steve, hanging in front of you.

The small joy you’d been feeling vanishes.

The poster stares back at you, you can almost hear it calling you a pathetic coward, and you feel guilt claw at your throat. You close your eyes, remembering the cold from that winter day, and you can almost smell the cologne Steve had been wearing when you’d thrown yourself into his warmth. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you think you can feel the ghost of his embrace.

You open your eyes.

Steve isn’t here.

Of course he isn’t here.

You exhale, feeling the familiar ache and exhaustion within you; junior year is looking quite grim.

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dira333 · 11 months ago

Text

Soul-Food - Osamu x Reader

Enemies to lovers - Requested by @notsochillnerd - with Atsumu as a terrible wingman who just wanted to check out his brothers' nemesis...

There is only one thing more annoying than Miya Osamu with his cooking talent, excellent marks, and unfairly good looks: his twin brother Atsumu.

“No.” You say again, arms filled with produce. He’s in your way and he’s not even sorry about it.

“Come oooon!” He whines, draping himself over the railing of the stairs as if this is a photoshoot for some perfume. “I’m so hungry! And Osamu won’t cook for me! I’ll even pay you!”

“Wow, now I want to do it even less, knowing you might not have paid me in the first place.” You snark, patience wearing thin.

“Now get out of my way, I need to get to my room.”

“To do what?” He steps to the side, but his face remains close to yours. You’re not the fastest as it is, even less when carrying that many vegetables.

“I need to cook.”

“Perfect.” His grin is so wide, it could split his face. “You cook, I’ll eat.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

You hesitate, if only for a second. But Atsumu is like a shark and that was the single drop of blood that he needed.

Half an hour later he’s sitting at the little table in your apartment.

Your kitchen isn’t spacious, but equipped with everything you could possibly need - there’s a reason this school costs an arm and a leg each year. And Miya Osamu got the scholarship instead of you.

You wouldn’t have any problem with it if not for your father breathing down your neck. He’s got the money to send you here twice if he wanted to, but in his twisted mind, a 100% is barely a passing grade and you should have been able to win the scholarship, monetary status be damned.

“What are you making?” Atsumu asks from behind you.

“Udon.”

“Why is it black?”

“I’m using Sepia.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” You snap back, hoping against hope that he will fall quiet. He doesn’t.

You’ve spent almost a year in a class with Osamu.

He might not always get a better mark than you, but he quickly figured out how much you hated it when he did. There’s nothing worse than someone else gloating over your loss.

The teachers love him and tolerate you.

So far they’ve been kind enough not to put the two of you into a group project, or maybe they just played it safe. The sheer bloodlust you feel when he grins in your direction must have tipped them off.

But this year is going to end soon and your teachers expect you to come up with a dish. Your own creation, not unlike the dish you had to make for your entry exam. This time, however, it’s supposed to showcase what you want to do, going forward.

You can’t bring the same thing you made for your entry exam, even though it was perfect and a delight - you made it roughly one hundred times before.

Your father has always been a fan of the Kaiseki Ryori and while you had loved taking part in the Haute Cuisine as a child, feeling grown up as you nibbled on tiny bites of expensive food, it has lost its appeal on you.

After all, there’s a set number of times you can eat a meal, even Chawanmushi, before you get sick of it.

“Hello? Are you still listening?” Nuisance number 2 asks behind you and you flinch, staring down at the dough that you kneaded for too long.

“What’s Osamu doing for his exam?” You ask, feeling a little guilty about your attempt at spying.

“Why do you want to know?”

Nevermind. Now you only feel annoyed.

“Just because. Maybe I want to talk about something other than you.”

You move to throw the dough out, only to be stopped by Atsumu’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I messed it up. It’s not going to taste good.”

“So what? I’m hungry.”

“You want to eat gross noodles?” You eye him warily, but he shrugs with a grin.

“It’s definitely going to be better than what I’d produce myself. But since I hate cooking, I’d probably just get takeout pizza anyway.”

“Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yeah?”

“And they let you eat Pizza?”

“They don’t know. Or they don’t care. Whatever you like better. I mean, they gave me a list of stuff I should keep away from but that’s like, all the food I usually consume.”

“Here.” You pull out a pen and paper. “Write down what you eat in a day. Snacks included. And drinks.”

“Why?”

“If I have to endure your chatting, you might as well get something out of this. Now, shoo!”

You turn, lid of your composter already open when his voice reaches you.

“DON’T THROW AWAY THE DOUGH!”

“Fine!” You snap. “You can eat your disgusting noodles!”

They don’t taste that awful in the end, not with your delicate sauce with mussels and steamed broccoli that turned out so good Atsumu licks his plate clean.

You’d been part of the track club in Middle School, switched to Volleyball in High School because they had fewer practice hours per week. Your marks had always been more important than any side activities, your future as a part of Haute Cuisine decided before you could walk. But it had been fun, especially when Coach gathered you after practice to talk about the importance of self-care. How certain foods could make or break you. How important salt and minerals were for your body, how food was more than calories, protein, carbs, and fat.

You’re not even a little bit rusty when you scribble down a meal plan for him. You keep it easy and as cheap as possible, light on the cooking because you figured he must be the opposite of his twin in the kitchen if he came begging for food… You’re not sure if you’re buying his excuse of a brotherly fight, but you’re not ashamed to say that you didn’t mind him praising your food over Osamu’s. Suck that, Miya!

Meanwhile, Atsumu’s brows are pulled so high, they’re hiding behind his bangs.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your new meal plan. You follow that, you’ll increase your stamina.”

“But it’s so much work.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“Whatever.” You get up, throw the pen down at the table. Your patience has never been the best anyway.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He follows you to the sink but not to help with the dishes.

“You could cook for me.” He offers it like it’s a great deal. You snort.

“I bet there’s something you want. Something I could do for you…” He wiggles his brows now, looks disgustingly like Osamu when he got a better mark then you. And that kickstarts your brain.

“I want Osamu… I mean the recipe…You know, what Osamu made to get the scholarship. If you can get me that dish of him to try, I’ll cook for you.”

Atsumu grins in a way that doesn’t feel good but he nods.

“Alright, it’s a deal. You’ll cook for me and I get you the dish.” He holds out his hand to sign the deal but you’ve been the daughter of a cutthroat banker for too long to fall for that.

“I’ll cook for a week.” You tell him firmly and watch with a sick satisfaction as his face contorts. He looks awful when he’s pissed and there are definitely not enough moments of the Miya twins looking awful.

“Two weeks.

“One week, only dinner.”

“One week, lunch, dinner and snacks.”

“Are you insane?”

“Do you want Osamu’s food?”

There’s a moment of Silence, and you’re eyeing each other, calculating who’s bluffing and who’s not.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because you feel it in your bones that trying that damned dish will get you a step closer to figuring out what you need to present for your Final.

You feel like a drug addict, going down the deep end, when Atsumu appears at your door one week later, carrying a Bento-Box wrapped in the cutest fabric you have ever seen.

“Are those little foxes?” You ask, eyeing the reddish-tinted animals on the grey fabric.

“What if ?” He asks back, nose up in the air.

“Jeez, I was just curious.” You snap back and muster him. He doesn’t look malnourished.

“What did you eat this week?”

“Why do you ask?” He sets the Bento-Box on your table and saunters into your kitchen, peering into the still empty pots and pans.

“You’re an awful liar.”

“Okay, so I told Samu that you cooked for me.” He throws his hands up in the air like you’re the one making a big fuss about things. “Told him it was fingerlickin’ good. Got him all angry and puffy.”

You are not ashamed to say that comment lifts you off your feet just a little bit. Hah!

“So?” You ask cooly, untying the Furoshiki with eager fingers.

“So he insisted that he would cook for me. Everything went according to plan, I pretended it wasn’t as good as your food until I asked for the dish he made for his entry exams.”

“Did you know what it was?” You ask as you lift the lid of the box.

“Maybe.” He says and you can hear in his voice that he knew. He probably didn’t tell you just to experience this.

“He made Onigiri?” You ask, your voice a little shrill.

You had made Chawanmushi, a dish literally to die for, practiced one hundred times, and he beat you with Onigiri?

“Try it.” He reaches for one of the Onigiri in the box and you slap his hand away.

“Mine!” You hiss angrily and his grin is almost feral.

“I’ll take a walk around the block then.” He jokes, moving toward the door. “Leave you alone with it.”

“Leave.” You wave him off. “I’ll make dinner later.”

“Half an hour.”

“Leave!” You huff and the door clicks shut behind him.

You bite into the first Onigiri and time stops for a second.

The rice is cooked to perfection, but you know the different varieties well. He must have splurged on this kind, bought from a boutique farmer of some sorts.

It’s filled with tuna and spring onion, but it tastes different then all the Tuna Onigiri you’ve had before. You write down all the different things you can taste, compare them to the knowledge you have but still - did he use a spice you don’t know? A combination you’re not familiar with?

The taste lingers, but you cannot put your finger on it. You feel a little weepy too, as if you had just watched your favorite movie from when you were a kid. You sniff and take the other Onigiri, bite into almost cautiously. It’s Tenmusu, your favorite kind of Onigiri.

This time, literal tears run down your cheeks. The shrimp is crisp, the sweet sauce calling you back to childhood, reminding you of the few free afternoons you got to spend with your mother, just the two of you, no work allowed. You only remember to write down the taste and ingredients when the last bite has disappeared and your hands leave the paper stained.

Well… You’re no closer to figuring out what to make for your finals, but you might be getting your period soon. Why else would you be moved to tears by food?

“Onigiri, huh?” You ask Osamu after class the next day. You can’t help yourself.

He looks up from his phone, surprise on his face. It’s ridiculous how good that makes him look.

“What about it?”

“I heard you made Onigiri for your Entry Exam.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiles, the kind of smile that makes you want to slap it off his face. “Tsumu told me he made you try it.”

You can feel your face go slack. WHAT?

“What did you think?” Osamu asks, way too confident for your taste. “Did you like them?”

You can’t decide between a huff and a snort and the sound that does come out reminds you more of a dying walruss.

“They were probably pitying you.” You point out, nose in the air. “I showed up with Kaiseki Ryori. I made Chawanmushi.”

“Ah.” Osamu sounds like he’s not sure what that is. But you’ve gone over that in class, he’s just messing with you.

“Well, when do I get to try it?”

You blink. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s only fair, right? After you tried mine.”

You swallow thickly, look around for some help, but you’re the only one’s still in the hallway.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because he does have a point. “As long as I don’t have to eat it.”

His brows furrow and your mind unhelpfully supplies you with the information that his eyes are a different shade than Atsumu’s. Osamu’s eyes are almost as grey as his hair, reminding you of the sky outside.

His mouth moves and you blink, try to focus on his voice, but fail. Your collar feels too tight around your neck and you pull at it, too aware of Osamu’s eyes that flicker to your neck and stay there. God, what’s going on?”

“What did you say?” You ask in the most snooty voice you can manage. “I wasn’t listening.”

“Why do you cook something you don’t like?” He asks. “Don’t you enjoy cooking?”

Something snaps inside you like a rubberband that has been pulled taut for too long.

“Why do you care?” You sniff and he rolls his eyes.

“I was just asking.”

“Sure you were. But you’re psychological warfare doesn’t work on me! You can flutter your long eyelashes at someone else!”

Osamu laughs. “I wasn’t-”

“Neither was I. Well, are you coming or not?”

“Where?”

“You wanted to try my Chawanmushi!”

“Gesundheit.” You turn, not the least bit surprised to see Atsumu standing there. It’s lunchtime for him, he’s coming to collect his goods. “Or was that a codeword for something naughty?”

“Oh god, you’re awful.”

You know that the Chawanmushi has turned out as perfect as all the other times. You can tell by sight and smell, but you cannot bring yourself to try it.

The thought of it has you swallow back bile but you serve it to the brothers with the biggest smile you can manage.

“Here.” You present it in tiny, elegant bowls.

“Are you in pain?” Osamu asks and you drop the smile.

“Go f-”

“Why is it so tiny?” Atsumu asks, eyeing the bowl skeptically. “I’m hungry.”

“I made you Curry.” You tell him off. “This is just a tasting. You can’t eat full bowls with Kaiseki Ryori, you’d never manage that amount of food.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Atsumu digs in, spoon clinking loudly against the bowl to the point you fear for its life.

He’s done with it before Osamu has even tasted his, still smelling the dish carefully, pulling the spoon through as if to check for clumps.

“It was fine.” Atsumu gives his mark as one would comment on an order of KFC. “Now, the Curry?”

You huff but don’t get up, eyes still trained on Osamu. Then, finally, he brings the spoon to his mouth. If you’re focusing a little too much on his full lips, that’s entirely because he’s the world's slowest eater at the moment and nothing else.

His face remains passive.

Cold sweat runs down your back as he slowly but surely finishes the dish and nods appraisingly.

“It was good.” Osamu says calmly. “The Curry?”

Breathing is a little hard at the moment, but you manage to get up, collect the bowls - you don’t throw them at the floor in a fit of rage and you’re very proud of yourself for that - and get them safely to the kitchen sink.

Your hands shake a little as you serve the Curry in three different plates, but if the boys notice, they don’t comment on it.

“I hope you like it.” Your voice is back to normal, your wounded heart tucked safely back into your chest. “It’s packed with protein and healthy vegetables to make sure you have all the necessary nutrients. You could eat this every day and wouldn’t have to worry about losing out on anything.”

Atsumu digs in without another word. He beams around the spoon, curses loudly.

“This is so good.” He says, mouth full.

“Pig.” Osamu announces next to him, puts the first spoon into his mouth and-

You can see it, in the widening of his eyes and the light blush that appears on the height of his unfairly sharp cheekbones. He likes it. He likes it very much.

You should probably feel a bit more upset about the fact that they insult your Chawanmushi but get high on your Curry, but then again, it just feels good to watch Osamu have the same reaction to your Curry that you had with his Onigiri.

“You should make this for the Exam.” Osamu points out in between a groan and another spoonful of Curry. “It’s amazing.”

“No!” Atsumu shakes his head, still speaks with his mouth full. “The Udon you made yesterday. That was crazy good.”

“What Udon?” Osamu’s voice has a tint to it you cannot place. Does he know about the Onigiri you tried but not about the deal itself? Is he jealous he didn’t get to try them?

“Okay, so she makes the Noodles herself, right? This time without the freaky black stuff-”

“Sepia,” you throw in but he ignores you, “But she used pork belly for the sauce and something creamy and mushrooms, I think-”

“Shiitake.”

“And I tell you, Samu, it was so so good! Like, it reminded me of Mom making that stew, you know? When Dad had that big sale thing and we got to celebrate it?”

Osamu’s eyes light up in a way that has you looking down at your food, heart thrumming in your chest like a hummingbird on speed.

“Can you-” He hesitates for a second. “Can you make me that?”

“I could.” You point out, not at all feeling the upper hand. You feel nervous instead as if this is a test or something worse. You swallow thickly, try to think of something to wager against it. Your mind is unhelpful at best, offering the possibility of a date - as if!

“If I get your recipe. For the Onigiri.”

Osamu’s mouth clicks shut. He blinks, clearly surprised. Then he grins, the kind of grin that tells you this isn’t going to work in your favor, at all.

“Sure. So, Udon tomorrow?”

“I was going to make Katsudon tomorrow.” You point out, pissed that he’s overthrowing your meal plan. Atsumu looks like he’s gotten a glimpse of heaven.

“Really?”

You hate to think about it, but the week is nearing its end and Osamu feels less like the devil and more like the dangerously cute boy from your class now. The dangerously cute boy who’s going to get a better mark than you, take the promised internship at one of Japan's leading five-star restaurants and laugh in your face if you don’t shape up right now.

Your father is as helpful as ever.

He’s currently obsessed with the Yakimono part of Kaiseki Ryori, taking you out to dinner each weekend only to try new variants that you should use for your Final Exam.

The food is good, there’s no denying that, but it lacks the emotional touch you had with the Onigiri.

The same Onigiri that you’ve made three times already. They never taste like Osamu’s.

You’re suspecting that he skipped on one ingredient in the recipe, the one thing you could not put your finger on when you tried them.

“Hey.” Atsumu’s waiting at your door when you return from coffee with your mother. She had been even less helpful, talking about the new dessert dish she was creating. You might have gotten her cooking skills, but you hate baking almost as much as Chawanmushi.

“I thought we said we would skip the cooking over the weekend.”

“Yeah, about that.” He lifts a heavy bag. “I wanted to ask for a favor.”

“I’m not setting for you.”

“Why would I- Never mind, I wanted to ask… Could you like, show me… how to cook?”

You blink in surprise.

“Why would I teach you that? Don’t you have your brother?”

“He’s not a good teacher.” Atsumu points out and you snort.

“So you want to learn how to cook? And stop harassing me and Osamu?”

“No, no, I will still harass the two of you for food, but it looked easy when you did it, so I thought you could teach me, maybe?”

“Fine.”

“I’m even pa- Fine? Oh, wow, that was easy.”

“If I can ask you some questions in turn without you judging me?”

“Me, judging someone? Never.” He puts a hand on his chest, probably aiming for his heart, but he’s now swearing on his left ribcage.

You watch like a Hawk as Atsumu prepares the Omurice. He’s got a bad habit of getting distracted, but he’s not a bad student.

“So…” You swallow your nerves. “You and Osamu used to play Volleyball together, right?”

“Yeah. He could have gone Pro, like me. But he said…” He raises his hands to make air quotes and lowers his voice into a deeper pitch to mock Osamu, “Skillswise I'm just as good as you. But I think that, when all's said and done, you love volleyball just a teensy bit more than me.”

“And you were okay with that?”

“Nah.” Atsumu flips the Omurice onto a plate and hands it over to you. “Try.”

“It’s good.” You hand it back to him. “Eat.”

When Atsumu leaves, you’re left with even more questions than before.

What does it mean to love something so much you’re willing to pass up something good?

Atsumu is making good money as a Pro, even now. But Osamu had no idea if he was going to make it into this school until he tried.

And why did he make freaking Onigiri?

Midnight has come and gone when you put a jacket over your sleepshirt and slip out of your apartment in nothing but booty shorts and bunny slippers.

You’re not sure if there’s a nightguard. There might be, this is still a mixed dorm filled with hormonal teens and tweens.

Even though you’ve never been to Osamu’s place before, you know the route by heart. You had memorized it in a childish fit when you realized his room was just below the fire escape.

You wouldn’t allow him to survive you in case of an emergency.

You knock twice before you can hear movement. The door opens and you almost swallow your tongue.

His hair is in disarray as if he’d dragged his hands through it all night and there’s the imprint of his pillow left on his cheek. He’s topless and you keep your eyes trained on the imprint on his cheek as if you don’t notice his happy trail or his still well-trained abs.

He blinks slowly and yawns.

“What’s up?” He asks. Something moves over his face, quick like a sparrow. “Shit, are you hurt? Did something happen?!”

“No, no, I… Shit, I don’t know, I-”

“Come in.” He pulls you inside, but he calculates wrong, uses too much force for your quivering body. You end up mushed against his chest, face plant right into the warm skin.

If you die like this, you won’t even be mad about it.

“Shit, sorry.” He grabs you and puts you at a distance again, blush high on his cheeks.

“Your Onigiri.” You start, before he can realize that you’re flustered too. “You didn’t list all the ingredients.”

“I did.”

“Did not. They don’t taste the same.”

“Ah.” He makes that insufferable sound like he knows everything you don’t.

You want to poke his abs, but you decide against it, mainly because it would make you look weird. But they do look ni-

“Tea?” He asks and you hold your right hand with your left, just in case it turns sentient.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your Onigiri don’t taste like mine, because I make them for someone.”

“What?”

“The Tuna one.” He looks at the kettle instead of you, but his voice is wistful, distant. “I always make that one for Tsumu.”

“And the Tenmusu?”

“It’s my Mom’s favorite.” He says softly and you can’t help it, but you start to cry.

“Your Mom likes Tenmusu too?”

“Ah, shit, don’t tell me- Wait, here, take this…” He hands you a tissue to blow your nose and dry your tears.

“So you’re saying your secret ingredient is love? You’re really going to stand there and make me believe that you got the scholarship because you put love in your food?”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me. But there’s a reason your Chawanmushi did not taste as good as your Curry.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Gladly.” He smirks at you and this time your hand is faster than your mind, pointer finger digging into the firm muscle of his right pectoral.

“Don’t mess with me.”

“Why not?” His face moves closer to you, or did you move closer to his? “Isn’t it fun?”

Whoever moved first doesn’t matter now as his breath washes over you. His eyes skip to your lips and you lick them, no thoughts left in your brain.

Behind him, the kettle whistles, signaling that the water’s cooking, but neither of you moves.

This could end very badly, or very great, however you want to look at it.

Your mind, helpful as ever, comes up with a sentence that just slips out of your mouth unprompted.

“Atsumu said that you loved Volleyball a little-”

He draws back the moment he hears you speak, face now closed like a window that has let down its shutters.

“Right, Atsumu.” He says, interrupting you. “You should get back to the bed.”

“But the tea…”

“I forgot.” He takes the kettle off the stove. “I was going to make a hot water bottle for myself. Sorry.”

Somehow, somewhere, you took a wrong turn.

Maybe it was when you started liking Osamu, in this weird way that has you enjoy the bickering and the competitiveness. Maybe it was even before that, when you let Atsumu get away with his needling, fed him Udon instead of throwing him out.

Or maybe it was even before that, when you didn’t put up a fight everytime your father decided for you, when your mother put work before spending time with you.

It’s a good thing that Finals are right around the corner.

You can’t focus in most classes, left staring holes into Osamu’s back.

Atsumu’s stopped showing up himself, probably now a master in cooking for himself. Or he’s gone back to Osamu, to fantastic Onigiri and whatever else he knows how to make.

Four days before the Final, someone bangs on your door.

“Jeez, I’m coming.” You pull the door open to reveal Atsumu, soaked and clearly pissed..

“You okay?” You ask. “Or do you need a towel?”

“Why are you not a couple?” He asks back. “Like, the tension was there, you were practically undressing each other at the table - in front of me, might I add - and yet you’re not even speaking to each other? I even cooked all my meals these past weeks in the hopes of hearing good news but Samu’s acting like a bug crawled up his ass and died.”

“What are you even talking abou-”

“Oh, don’t fool me.” He steps inside and moves toward your bathroom without asking. “I just ran here because all I get from Samu are cryptic messages. Did you say something?”

“No, I-”

“Spill.” Atsumu points at the kitchentable, hesitates for a second, then he points at the kitchen itself. “Make some food while your at it. Also, can I have some change of clothes?”

You make Okayu with ginger and honey, the rice porridge a comfort to your heart and a boost to Atsumu’s immune system.

It’s not a long tale. It could be, probably, but you refuse to go into more detail than necessary. Atsumu might be kind of a friend, in his weird, annoying way, but he’s still Osamu’s twin brother.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” He grabs the bag with his clothes and stalks off, dressed in one of your oversized hoodies and bright pink pajama pants, both things slightly too short on him.

“Give him a chance when he comes back,” are his parting words.

But Osamu does not show up.

Neither does he the next morning in class.

One of the teachers calls you over after class.

“You and Miya-san are pretty close, right?” She starts, speaks on while you’re still trying not to choke on your spit. “Could you bring him the notes from today? He called in sick. Tell him to take care and rest, so that he can take part in the Final.”

“I-I will.”

You end up in your own room instead, debating if you should just leave everything in front of his door and run. If he’s not at the final, you automatically win. But that’s not a win you’d feel good about, if you’re being honest to yourself.

Before you know it, you find yourself making Oyaku again, with Ginger and Honey, the one food that always gives you comfort and boosts your health. The process is simple, but it still calms you down every time. When it’s done, you look down at two portions and know what to do.

“Osamu?” The door is closed, but you can hear faint shuffling behind it. “I made you Oyaku. I heard you’re sick and got your notes from the teachers. I didn’t tell them that I’m a friend of yours, but she was convinced of it and didn’t let me change her mind. But I… we kinda are friends, right?” You feel so weird talking to the closed door.

“Even if you don’t like me, we got to keep up the reputation. Eat the Oyaku, okay? Winning doesn’t feel the same if you kick yourself out of the game.”

You put everything in front of his door and leave, lingering at the end of the hallway, just out of sight, until you hear his door. When you look back, the Oyaku is gone and all you have to do is wait.

Osamu is already outside when you step out of the classroom.

“Already finished?”

“Onigiri doesn’t take that long to make.”

“Ah, right.” You nod, don’t know if you should avoid his gaze or follow your instinct and look a bit more closely. He sounds healthy at least.

“What did you make?” His voice is gruff when he asks.

“Ginger Honey Oyaku.” You answer, voice soft. “Which might confuse the teachers because I had all the ingredients ready for honey-glazed pork belly but I decided against it at the last second.”

“I’d have loved to try that pork belly.” Osamu sighs dreamily. “But that Oyaku was so good. I could eat that everyday and never get tired of it.”

“Same.” You smile but it falters when you feel his eyes on you and you know you’ve got to say it. “I made it for you.”

“Yeah, I know-”

“No, what you said… about the Entry Exam.” You can feel your heartbeat, like the fluttering of hummingbird wings. If you’re going to pass out during your confession, you’re going to kill Osamu for it.

Behind you, the door opens and two more students step out. Osamu looks at them and back at you and you nod, point down the hallway. “Let’s take a walk?”

There’s a broom closet not far down and you slip inside only to regret it seconds later. There’s barely enough space for the two of you, his breath washing over you as you try to focus on the words you need to say. Out loud, so he can hear them too.

“I want to beat you.” You can hear him snort, but you keep your gaze on your hands. You won’t be able to speak if you look into his eyes. “But you’re also really funny and caring and cute, in a way. I could see myself, I mean, I already, you know-”

“What about Tsumu?” He asks, voice strangely hoarse.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you like him more? You don’t feel the need to beat him every two seconds, right?”

You roll your eyes and groan.

“Seriously? The best thing about Atsumu is that he looks kinda like you.”

If you had wanted to say more - you didn’t, but you hate letting anyone else have the last word - it leaves your mind the second his lips press onto yours.

Your mind’s not yet caught up, but your body is, hands dragging through his hair to pull him closer, to marvel at the softness of it - what conditioner is he using? - to have him a little closer.

His hands are on your hip, your back, roam over your shoulders, leaving warm trails and goosebumps behind.

Then there’s bright light and a shrill shriek and you burst away from each other only to face one of your teachers.

“What? The indecency! During an exam no less! Detention! Detention!” Her garbled words don’t make much sense, but the last word you understand.

Osamu sends you a look, his eyes speaking of little guilt and a promise to continue this latter. You can’t help but feel the same.

As it turns out, Detention automatically overrules your exceptional Exam marks. Neither of you wins the internship. Neither of you cares.

Osamu had applied to an Onigiri shop not far from the school as a second option and with your last name you have no trouble securing an internship with a well-known nutritionist for Pro Athletes.

Your father is not happy about your change in dreams, but when you explain the earning capacity of this position, and the business plan you’re already halfway through making, your excitement swaps over.

Your mother, as usual, barely listens. But you take it in stride, her usual droning on about a recipe she’s working on, by thinking about how in less than an hour, you’ll see Osamu again.

“You guys owe me.” Atsumu declares during Movie night. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, the last piece of the Pizza in his hands. “I’m talking about food for life.”

“We could have done it without you,” Osamu insists, arm around you, face nuzzled into your hair. He pretends he’s watching the movie, but you know better. He’s been thinking about the cheese crackers in your pantry for hours.

“If I hadn’t pulled you out in the rain to talk things through, you wouldn’t have gotten sick and your girlfriend wouldn’t have made Oyaku for you! That’s enough reason for you to love me forever!”

“If you hadn’t interfered he wouldn’t have had to think we were dating instead.” You point out and dig your hands into Osamu’s grip on your arms, moving away from him.

“Babe, what-” He starts but you nod in the direction of your pantry. “Get the crackers. I can’t watch you any longer.”

“Really?” His face lights up like a child in front of a Christmas tree. It’s worth the ridiculous price you paid for the crackers.

“Really.”

He kisses you and the moment could be perfect. But there’s still Atsumu, fake gagging in the background.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#I loved writing the banter #hope this is something good #my writing #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #miya osamu #miya twins #miya atsumu #osamu fluff #osamu drabble

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