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edward-munson · 2 days ago

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i'm right here - E.M. * Chapter Three

Warning: angst, slight mention of smut (MDI), mentions of the Upside Down, fluff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem! Harrington reader

Word count: 6.4k

Previous Chapter

⋆˚✿˖°

You feel Eddie delicately hovering above you, one hand is cupping the side of your jawline, while the other one he uses to hold your waist. You're lying on his bed, both of you had just watched a movie, while eating some snacks and drinking wine. He rubs his thumb against your lower lip, licking his own when he notices how pink it looks under the moonlight.

His breath picks up when he decides to ghost his lips over yours, moving ever so slowly. You can't help but tug on his frizzy curly hair, it's fluffy and it feels nice to touch. When you feel his gentle peck, you close your eyes and savor the moment. It starts slow, and it burns your body.

The heat between your legs starts to grow as soon as he moves his hand from your waist and rests it over your thigh. His breath fans your mouth when he opens his mouth to finally kiss you. His tongue is hot, and it still tastes like the wine he was drinking. You grip the back of his hair and he hisses to your touch, groping and humping you. His hand starts to roam through your exposed skin, and it's inches from touching your heat.

Your underwear starts to bother you and you let out a raspy groan when both of your tongues finally touch. He moans under his breath and his crotch is almost touching against yours. Eddie shifts above you and finally uses one of his ringed fingers to feel your warmth and how wet you are under him.

It's the loud gasp that startles you from your dream, and you wake up feeling dizzy. It was just a dream.

"Shit" You mumble as you feel your heart racing. Your hands are trembling and you feel the sweat stream from your neck down to your chest.

Your legs are opened and you're definitely soaked. It felt so real, you could've sworn he was really there, touching you. As you get up from your bed, you go to the bathroom and wash up your face. This could help a little after that dream. You look at yourself in the mirror and it's like you just had sex. But you didn't, and it frustrates you that now you've gotten to the point of thinking about him even when you're dreaming.

After the gathering a few days ago at your house, you and Eddie weren't being awkward to each other anymore. You would have a small conversation during the class, and when you were sitting together during the breaks. He still seemed a little sad because of Chrissy, but looked better than he did weeks before.

You weren't sure if you should tell your brother, which doesn't seem like a good idea. Well, first because he's a guy. And second, because he's your brother. You just know how you're going to react when you're close to him, and it's going to be awkward again. You didn't want that to happen either.

So, now as you lean against the counter at Family Video, you tap your fingers incessantly over it waiting for Robin to digest what you had just told her. Steve isn't working today, so you use the opportunity to talk to her without him being nosy and inappropriate.

"So... you guys were going at it?" She asks and you nod. Robin nods and leans by your side "Wow. Munson would definitely freak out if he heard about that"

"I know. It would probably be completely weird to be around him at this point"

"Are you sure it was him? It could be, I don't know, Jonathan or that really cute guy from senior year" She tilts her head and ponders about the situation. You laugh.

"I only saw Jonathan like once, and I have no fucking idea who you're talking about" You knit your eyebrows playfully and she agrees, because you still don't know everyone from school. "It was definitely Eddie"

"Definitely me what?" Both you and Robin look astonished as he shows up unannounced behind you.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you take in his sight and you open your mouth, closing it as fast as you can. She clears her throat and gives him a nervous smile.

He's holding two tapes in his hands and looks at the two of you as he waits for a response. Eddie lifts his hands to show Robin he's returning the tapes and drops them at the counter.

"It was, uh– It was you who rented this movie! She wanted to get it as well" She picks up the first tape from the small pile and shakes it in front of you and him.

Your face scrunches up from her improvising, but he doesn't notice it.

He then looks at you and widens his eyes "Since when do you like Scarface?" Eddie seems interested in the thought of you liking these kinds of movies, but you have no idea what the hell it is about.

You shrug and look down at the tape, not wanting to stare at his eyes. It's going to remind you of your dream and you don't want to deal with that right now.

"I don't know, I can change my taste in movies. Right, Rob?" Your eyes throw daggers at her and she shrinks, slumping her shoulders, but still remaining in character.

"Yeah! Definitely, totally! I mean, I like romcoms a lot and Steve always tells me I should watch things like Terminator and shit like that" She starts to ramble and Eddie chuckles at her.

"Okay" He smiles while looking at you and shifts his weight as he looks at Robin next. You feel your cheeks burn under his stare and it's embarrassing "You want the full price or can I pay the rest next week?"

Robin agrees and takes his money, looking at you. She gives you a comforting smile, even though you feel nervous just by standing beside him. Eddie turns his face at you and smiles again.

You smile back at him, your stomach is flipping and you feel your hands sweating. Jesus, this is becoming so hard to stand. It feels as though you're a 12-year-old girl with a crush.

"If you're renting this one, you're welcome to watch with me if you want to" He points at the tape you're holding, his face showing his full grin at you.

You're still in a daze as you look at him, who waits for you to answer his invitation. He's leaning against the counter, while Robin is somewhere else. You chuckle nervously, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as you hold the tape firmly in your hand, afraid it will fall off.

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to Ed"

He mumbles a "great" and calls out Robin by her last name and she appears from one of the aisles. You just know she was waiting for your moment with him to end so she could show up. He thanks her for the service and greets both of you with a tap on the shoulders. Eddie takes a little longer as he rubs his fingers over your shirt and cocks his head when he says "see you".

"Oh my God, you lovebirds are watching a movie together!" She says it a little louder and does happy jumps like you're still in middle school.

You laugh at her reaction, even though you still feel a little nervous from your interaction with him. Robin says you were going to be fine, that it's okay to feel nervous when you like someone.

In fact, two days later you watched the movie and you were pretty sure you hated it for the most part. Especially because you couldn't focus entirely on the story, and Eddie made sure to pay attention even though he had watched it already. He explained scenes you didn't get, and even paused it when he was away from the TV because he still wanted to be there to watch it with you.

It was in the middle of it that you realized nothing was going to happen, so you tried to feel relaxed and stopped tensing up. He noticed you were nervous, though. When he hung his arm around the couch, barely touching your arms, he could feel how rigid they were and didn't try anything.

He was nervous, too. Eddie hasn't had any movie time with anyone since he started going out with Chrissy. And he barely watched movies with her because she always had an excuse to not see them with him. It was nice to have someone like you who would accept watching it even if you didn't like it. And you told him you didn't, he laughed and said it was okay. You tried to make him believe you really wanted to watch it because you were curious, but maybe he didn't fall for it.

He dropped you off at your house when Steve wasn't there and you almost invited him over. But what for? You were so edgy you couldn't even think of something you both could do besides watching a movie. So, you hopped off his van and said goodnight. He left a kiss on your forehead before that and it made your heart flutter. This time, he called you sweetheart.

It only made things worse. You didn't know how you would handle your feelings anymore.

Eddie watches over his shoulder as Jason leans against Chrissy while they're sitting at a table at the library. He's working his shift after school, placing a few books on the shelf. He didn't when they came in, but he noticed the giggling she was giving to her partner. When he looked over to his right, he saw them getting pretty close to each other, almost sharing a kiss.

He silently scoffed and rolled his eyes to the back of his head. He was trying to pretend it's not bothering him how they act when they're together in public and it annoys him. Eddie doesn't feel bad because of her anymore, he feels angry at her. He's angry that she wasn't honest with him and that she's just like Jason, only he never realized it before.

Steve spent about two minutes calling out his friend, snapping his fingers beside him but he didn't hear him. Eddie was too absorbed into his own thoughts.

"Eddie!"

"What?" He answered through gritted teeth, now finally turning his head to look at Steve.

"Would you stop looking at them?"

"Yeah, sure. They're just about to swallow each other's tonsils in front of people. But yeah, of course I can" He spits over a sarcastic tone.

Steve rolls his eyes, leaning against the shelf and slapping Eddie over his head. "Don't be so fucking dumb, dude"

"I'm just... angry at them. They're absolutely ridiculous. How did I never notice that before?"

Steve glances at him with a knowing look, because he knew Chrissy wasn't meant for him, he knew she wasn't good for his friend. But he didn't want to say anything because it wasn't his right to.

Your brother rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder, comforting him. "Let them be assholes together. You're good without her anyway"

He was right, Eddie was much better without the girl who said so much shit about him before.

Steve invites him to go camping later that night, saying your other friends are also gonna be there. He ponders for several seconds, knowing the lake still gives him shivers and it triggers him, even though it's not Lovers Lake.

"Is little Harrignton going too?" He asks about you and Steve chuckles at how he calls you.

"Yeah, she will"

It makes Eddie nervous to know you're going to be there too. You've never seen him being vulnerable over something so terrifying before, even though he had to deal with his dad doing drugs and leaving him. He got over it.

But the fact he's still remembering the Upside Down and the gate deep in the lake makes his skin crawl and he clenches his jaw at the thought of it. He knows you're a little familiar with the story, but he doesn't want you to know the aftermath of it.

It's the fact that it's so hard for him to deal with, that he thinks no one deserves to deal with that either.

And so it happens. He's trapped in the blue looking Hawkins from the Upside Down. He watches from a distance when the vines from the floor wrap you and pull you down without struggling. Steve is right behind you, screaming your name as he sees Vecna floating above you. Robin tries to shoot flames at him but it only makes him stronger.

One small movement and the Demobats start flying towards Eddie. Not all of them, but a good amount of them. They immediately bite into his skin, ripping off his flesh as he screams louder than he can. Steve doesn't know where he goes. He's in the middle of the fight, deciding what he should do.

"Just go! Go save her! I'm out" Eddie yells. His breath is shaky and he tries to breathe but it's impossible.

And listens to himself screaming painfully as he sees the town crumble to ashes before his eyes. Another bite rips his skin off and he gasps, his throat burns from inside out.

You flinch when he's yelling and your first instinct is to wake him up. Eddie sat up straight, holding a pocket knife against your neck. If it wasn't for your reflex of holding his forearm, he would've stabbed you right there.

Shocked, you looked at him with widened eyes and whispered his name. "It's just me, Eddie. It's me"

His eyes are a mixture of dread, panic and relief. Even though you'd say yes, actually desperate as well, seeing what he was about to do.

You both look at each other panting, eyes fixed and still holding up the knife he was about to drop on the floor.

You hear the noise, he's shaking when he holds tight on your jawline and pulls you for a desperate hug. "Fuck, sorry. I'm so sorry, shortie. I didn't- I didn't mean it"

He has trouble breathing and you notice he's having an asthma attack. If you didn't know better, he's still carrying his inhaler in his backpack. You rush to it and hold it for him, but he's too distracted to do it himself.

You do it for him, he inhales deeply as he tries to focus on the oxygen he needs. He's still shaking really bad and you're pretty sure you're not any different from him. You open your tent so he gets fresh air, watching when Steve, Robin and the others rush to you both.

"What the fuck was that?" Nancy asks worriedly, next to Jonathan.

You don't notice when Eddie and Steve share a look, and your brother finds the pocket knife laying on the floor. You look back to Eddie, who's huddled in the corner, his knees are bent and he rests his elbows over it, covering his face.

You look so lost in the midst of the chaos. Steve helps you up and out of the tent, and Robin pulls Eddie out of it next. He walks out to the opposite direction, lighting a cigarette and nervously fiddling his rings.

"Why does he have a fucking pocket knife while he sleeps?" Was your first question when Steve stood beside you.

He sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair. He knows why, and he doesn't want you to know why.

"Steve?"

"He, uh-" He scratches the back of his head, squinting his eyes shut.

You wait for him to give you an answer. You look away and see Eddie on the verge of a meltdown. He's definitely struggling with something.

Steve wasn't sure he should tell you. He didn't know if Eddie would accept it. But you've always been his friend, you should know. Not from your brother, though.

He motions his head to his friend, meaning you should go talk to him. You're a little apprehensive of doing so.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you approaching him, timidly. He blows the smoke far from you and takes a deep and sharp breath as you stand next to him, looking out at the lake.

"You good?" You ask, not really sure how to start the conversation.

He chuckles, nervously of course. It's not directed at you, it's because of the situation itself. He throws the cigarette at the lake and turns to look at you. Immediately his eyes become glassy and he can't hold back the huff. It's still a little hard to breathe. But what's worse than that it's the fresh memories of the nightmare he just had.

A few hours ago, when you arrived at the lake, he was pretty sure he would be just fine knowing he was with his friends. It was the first time you were doing something like that since you got back to Hawkins and he was loving it. Eddie tried to focus on having fun and doing camping stuff with all of you. He tried his best to not let the door of the back of his mind let him remember the horrors.

And he did it. Even though a few times he would look into the lake and imagine Vecna would just show up and kill all of you. He shook it off, it was going to be fine. They killed him. You were all fine.

He tried to smoke a lot less because you were there. You were the one who always asked him to stop smoking and he knew it was too hard to let go of the addiction. But for you, he would try. And he did. It was a bit difficult, but he was having fun and laughing his ass off. Playing games was helping him a lot.

Seeing you there helped a lot. For him, though, it was too complicated as well. Because he wanted to be with you, he wanted to go out with you, he wanted to be around you a lot more.

But he couldn't fathom the fact you were the only one "immune" to the whole thing. You were the only one who didn't experience anything like they did, and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to protect you, even if it meant not being able to see you more. Even if it meant he couldn't have you like he wished.

Now he stands in front of you. He glances at you and he sees how worried you are, how scared you were when he realized what he was doing. He sees the way you're already trying to be there for him when he doesn't want you to.

Eddie runs his fingers through his hair mercilessly and messes with the curls. He nervously rubs his hand over his chin, not looking directly at you now. He doesn't want to hide things from you, but he doesn't want you to know what happened to him before. He doesn't need to be pitied or treated differently because of that.

But he just knows that if he keeps hiding it from you, it's gonna be worse for him. Sooner or later you'd find out, and demand him an answer.

He does it like he's ripping a band-aid off.

"I have nightmares. Okay? Almost every single damn day"

His words come out bitter, and you're not sure how to react to that. You don't wanna say sorry, because he might have heard that a thousand times.

"I dream about the same thing. I dream about Vecna and the fucking Demobats. They're chewing on me. They're eating me alive" He closes his eyes and you see tears washing over his face.

"It's always so real. I feel them ripping my skin off, I feel the pain. I see Steve there, and I see our friends and they're all helpless. And tonight, it was different. Because, fuck" Eddie lets out a nervous laugh and you watch him intently. "You were there too. And I couldn't save you. I just couldn't"

You take a step closer to him, holding his shaking hands, pulling them closer to you. He doesn't want to look at you, he doesn't look into your eyes. But you stare into his soul and try to take in his pain, because you know it wasn't easy for them. You know Steve dreams about it too, he's always talking about it. But it's not even as bad as it is for Eddie.

He doesn't hold back the tears. He let them fall freely and you dry them with your thumbs. You lean your forehead against his and let him mourn. Maybe that's what he needs, someone to cry on.

"It's... so fucked up. I don't know why I have these nightmares all the time. It feels like I wasn't supposed to come back"

You close your still forcefully and whisper "shut up" to him, but he doesn't. He still complains and says how much he didn't deserve a second chance.

"Eddie, just stop. You don't need to relive it every time. You should see the therapist, get some help. Find some comfort"

He gives you a dry laugh "Easy for you to say, shortie. You don't get to be in my head every fucking day"

"You're right, I don't. But you don't deserve to be in pain and suffer whenever it happens"

You both stay silent. He's just enjoying how close you are and the way you hold his hands and how he leans against you. He tries to absorb your words and works his mind to forget what happened but it's so hard. He hears the sound of the lake and it still makes him shiver. "It's not Lovers Lake. This is not the lake of the gate. He's dead, it's all gone". He thinks.

Steve is watching you from afar. His arms are crossed against his chest and he rummages through his lower lip, because he doesn't know what you're dealing with. He likes to think Eddie is gonna be fine as long as he stays with you, as long as he's around you. He would like to see his friend happy, for once at least. For more than just a few months.

You walk in the tent again, sitting as you wait for Eddie to make himself comfortable over the duvet you spread over the floor. You offered to be the bigger spoon and he laughed. It sounded so adorable coming from him, especially now that he's vulnerable.

He lies on his side, waiting for you to spoon him as you throw an arm around him. You rest your face against his shoulder and smell him. He's always smelling like musk and cigarettes, it's really charming. Even though you hate when he smokes.

Not long after you're both lying there, Eddie shifts and turns to his other side to face you. He places his hand over your face, splaying it out and he rubs his thumb against your soft skin. You hum to the touch and close your eyes.

He likes the sight. He likes the feeling, the touch. His stomach flutters and he feels nauseous in a good way. Eddie presses his lips to your forehead and spends several seconds just like that.

He takes in your smell and tries to lock it inside his brain. When he finally pulls back, he's caught on you looking at him. You smile and he smiles back at you.

"I'm glad you're back, honey" He whispers before scooting closer to your neck, leaning his head over your shoulder as he closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

Eddie feels like everyone is looking at him somehow. He glances at the group of the party people, Jason’s group and the cheerleaders group. They’re all gossips. They’re like vultures looking for a piece of garbage, they just sneak their way into someone’s life and expose them. It’s not different this time.

It seems like they’re whispering behind his back and he doesn’t know why. While Mike rambles about a new D&D campaign, he just keeps trying to listen to whatever anyone else is talking about. He feels his ears burn when Chrissy looks at him and giggles at her cheerleader friend. It bothers him. He whips his head and looks at the table you’re sitting in with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and your brother, but you’re all too distracted to notice it.

Maybe it’s all in his head, maybe he’s too paranoid over something that doesn’t exist. Jason stands from his seat, dumping the rest of his food in the trash, walking towards the aisle where Eddie is sitting. He leans back against a pillar, grinning slightly, his voice casual but loaded with an amused tone.

“You ever wonder what it’s like to just... not sleep, Eddie? I mean, really. Or sleep at peace. That way, you’d never have to deal with those crazy dreams, right?”

Eddie’s hand paused mid air as he lifted his fork. His heart skipped a beat. His nightmares had been getting worse, each one more vivid and unsettling than the last. Jason’s words weren’t an accident, he could tell. He hasn’t told anyone about his nightmares, his friends knew. God, even Gareth knew about them. And you were the last to know.

But you wouldn’t do it, right? Why would you tell anyone? Jason’s smirk deepened as he continued, barely glancing at Eddie, focusing at a blank spot ahead of him.

“I’m sure it’s tough, you know, when you close your eyes and suddenly you're not sure what's real anymore. Kind of like... Dungeons and Dragons?”

Dustin and Mike stare at each other perplexed, Jeff and Gareth do the same, and the four of them share a look. Eddie clenches his jaw, putting the fork on his plate and forcing himself to look at the blond in front of him, who had a mocking smile on his face.

“The fuck are you talking about, you prick?” The metalhead could feel his blood pumping in his ears and his heart was beating so fast, he was almost choking on it.

“Yeah, but it’s probably better than... waking up and realizing you're not in control of anything. It’s all just... slipping away, piece by piece.” Jason chuckled under his breath. “Wouldn’t want to live like that, right?”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tapping against the table. He could feel the heat of Jason’s words seeping into his skin, prickling his nerves. The basketball leader wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was mocking him. Instead, it felt like he was enjoying every second of it because his voice was too smooth, his posture too relaxed, like he had already won some invisible game.

You finally noticed it happening, you didn’t see it before because Jason was being subtle. He wasn’t being loud or conspicuous. He knew what he was doing. And you could see the way Eddie was gripping tight on the table and how the other boys were too uncomfortable on their seats.

“Oh, God. Not again” You murmur and your friends all turn their heads to look at the scene.

Jason was still leaning against the pillar, a smug on his face as he doesn’t actually stare at Eddie, but rather just pushes his buttons. Whatever it was, it made Eddie stand abruptly.

He pushed his chair back with a loud scrape. He wasn’t sure whether he was more frustrated with Jason or with himself for letting him get under his skin. Without another word, he grabbed his tray and walked away, the sound of Jason’s laughter trailing behind him. He looked around carefully, and yes, most groups were looking at him and whispering whatever it was.

Eddie didn’t spend another second in the cafeteria, rushing out and grabbing your arm forcefully during the way, leading you back to the classroom storage. He pinned you to the wall, his brows were furrowed and his mouth was closed on a line. You knew he was mad, you just didn’t know why it was directed at you.

“Did you tell them, Harrington?” Him using your last name wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was his tone that scared you.

You froze for a moment, your back still facing the wall. Your expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. “Tell them what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about” Eddie pressed, his voice thick with frustration. “My nightmares. Did you tell people about them?”

You blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. You took a slight step back, your face turning to something like defense. “What? Eddie, no. I- I didn’t tell anyone about your nightmares. Why would I do that?”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t sure why it hurt so much, maybe it was because he thought he could trust you, or maybe it was the way the rumors had made their way to him, but the sting was undeniable. “Then how the hell did people find out about them?” His voice was louder now, and he noticed you flinched to his tone.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, now your voice grew louder as you took a step toward him. “I swear, Eddie, I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t even know about them until you told me, and you never gave me permission to share that with anyone.”

Eddie’s eyes searched yours, trying to look for your features to falter. He wanted to believe you, but something in the pit of his stomach twisted as he remembered the way their eyes had shifted when they saw him.

“I- I don’t know, shortie. It’s just… it feels like everyone’s talking about it. Like they know things they shouldn’t” Eddie admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I can’t deal with that.”

Your eyes softened, and you shook your head, your expression showing disappointment. “Eddie, I’m sorry that you’re going through this, but I promise you, I haven’t told anyone. If people know, it’s because of their own assumptions or something they overheard. I never shared anything.”

Eddie looked down, his hand running through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t sure if he felt more betrayed or more embarrassed. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that people know, or the fact that you think I’d believe you wouldn’t tell anyone”

Your face fell, your lips were trembling slightly. “You think I’d do that to you? After everything? After what we’ve been through?” Your voice cracked, a flicker of hurt flashing in your eyes. “Eddie, I care about you. I would never betray you like that. It’s unbelievable that you think I’d be capable of something like that.”

Your words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, the anger in Eddie’s chest deflated. He felt a sharp pang of guilt, his frustration dissipating as he realized just how deeply he’d misunderstood you. But it didn’t erase the feeling that something was off, something out of his control.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible now. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just… I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

You nod, but still you feel like you were punched in the guts. You had never told anything to anyone in that school, let alone something so personal about Eddie. And you look at him, your eyes twitching as they become wet. You didn’t want to just cry because he didn’t believe you, you felt like all these years of friendship didn’t mean anything to him.

“Yeah, right. We’ve been friends for like, what, three weeks right Eddie?” He squints his eyes shut and takes in your sharp answer. He knows he fucked up. “I mean, why would you trust me when I’m a new friend to you?”

You don’t wait for a response as you brush past him, your shoulder pushing him out of the way. He stands there in confusion and frustration. He watches as you leave him alone and disappear out of the room. He kicks the first thing he sees and huffs a loud sigh.

You hated how you wanted to avoid Eddie every day during classes, during the break, and everywhere your friends would go together. Because he was always there, you cross paths in the hallway and he throws a guilty look at you. You know he feels bad, you also feel bad for him, but you can’t stop thinking about the way he confronted you back then.

And Eddie couldn’t stop himself from looking at you, the guilt weighing him down. Why didn’t you just trust her? he thought, frustration bubbling up. She didn’t do anything wrong. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the knot in his chest only grew tighter. That was before he found out Robin talked about it with Vickie, thinking they were alone in the bathroom.

Turns out one of Chrissy’s friends was also there and she did what they would all do. She told them. And now almost the entire school knew about it. Robin just wanted to explain to her girlfriend why Eddie was seeming so off lately, and then she told her. She didn’t know it would end up like that. And now Eddie won’t look at her either, no matter how many times and how much she apologizes to him.

By the time the school day ended that week, Eddie was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. The guilt, the self-doubt, and the fear of losing you gnawed at him with every step. He watched as you slipped out the door, your pace quickening as if you couldn’t wait to leave.

He told himself he would talk to you tomorrow, that he would apologize and fix things, but deep down, he knew the longer he let this silence sink in, the harder it would be.

When you turned around the corner near the back of the school, you saw him. He was leaning against the wall, the faint smell of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. He didn’t notice you at first, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, as if the weight of whatever he was carrying was too heavy to hold up anymore.

The sight of him, smoking like this, was strange and you hated seeing him with a cigarette.

“Eddie” you said, your voice sharper than you meant.

He froze, but didn’t turn to face you right away. Instead, he exhaled the smoke and crushed the cigarette under his boot. When he finally faced you, his eyes narrowed slightly, a guarded expression on his face.

“Why are you hiding here?”

He doesn’t look at you for a moment, he shakes his head and mumbles “Nothing”

“Don’t lie” You snap at him, stepping forward, closer to him. “You’ve been acting like a damn ghost. I’m not stupid, Eddie. You thought I told everyone about your nightmares. About what you’ve been dealing with”

“And I’m sorry, okay? I’m fucking sorry I doubted you” When Eddie finally glanced up at you, his eyes were holding tiredness and angriness. Not towards you, but at everything that has been happening. “I’m just trying to keep some distance”

Your sarcastic laugh filled the air. “You’re doing it perfectly, you didn’t even apologize after that day!”

Eddie’s face twisted with frustration, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I don’t want you involved in this mess” he spat, voice thick with emotion. “You don’t get it. If you knew everything, it would just complicate things.”

“Complicate things?” You shook your head, stepping even closer now, too close you’re almost bumping your nose into his. “So you keep me at arm’s length, push me away, all because you think you’re protecting me?”

Eddie’s eyes flickered with something. Maybe it was regret, guilt, maybe even fear. “I didn’t want to bring you into this” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. If you knew what we've all been through, you would understand”

The roughness in his voice caught you off guard. You were angry, sure, but you could see that this wasn’t about mistrust. It was about his own insecurities. And it hurt more than anything.

“Eddie” Your voice softened as you looked deep in his eyes. “You don’t protect me by pushing me away. You don’t protect anyone like that.”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak, his eyes avoiding yours as if he was trying to figure out what to say, or if there was even anything to say. Then, slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a touch so tender it made your heart skip.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his thumb grazing your skin softly, almost passionately. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that”

You looked at him, the anger still simmering, but there was something else too. Something softer, something that made the hurt a little easier to deal with. “You’ve got to start trusting me again, Eddie. I’m not like them. I’m not going to turn my back on you”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, the vulnerability in his expression too brutal to ignore. He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, almost like an instinct, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

The world seemed to slow as he leaned in, his breath mixing with yours, the emotion in his gaze nearly too much to handle.

You didn’t pull away, but instead, you held your breath, your heart racing. The space between you both was nonexistent now, the pull so magnetic that it almost hurt. Eddie’s lips hovered near yours for a fraction of a second, the silence screaming louder than anything.

He almost closed the gap, if it wasn’t for Dustin’s loud shriek calling out his name. Like an instinct, you pull back and glance at each other. Your heart is almost beating in your throat and your hands are sweating. Eddie looks at you pleadingly and before he leaves, he kisses you on the forehead and trots to where Dustin is calling him.

You didn’t even know you were holding your breath until you’re out of oxygen.

⋆˚✿˖°

@thegirlthatsfalling @strangemaximoff @readergf @sheneedsrocknroll92

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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foryoufics · 2 days ago

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Fake Flowers

Authors Note: Sorry I haven't written in a while. Anyway, I'm almost finished watching The Trunk and I've always liked this trope. Hoping I can stick to making this a series and I must've been gone a while because Tumblr now has a button for read more so wow.

Summary: Basically fake! couple trope. You are trying for a fresh start and wanting to put your past behind you, what better way to do that than uprooting to a new country and getting a fake husband?

Warnings: angst, cussing, talk of adult themes

"Jungguk, could you come to my office please?" "Yeah, sure. I just ended one contract not two days ago, this can't be another one already," Jungkook answers with an exasperated sigh. "What can I say? You're the most popular one here, I'll brief you and then you need to go and meet her. Hey, maybe this will spice things up, this one is American, that doesn't happen often, huh? That's exciting"

"That doesn't happen often, why? I mean how? Do I have to relocate? I never agreed-"

"Aish, I know, I know, no. You don't have to relocate. This client recently moved here-"

"Again, why? Let me guess, she's obviously got money, but, she wants to hire me because she thinks I'm exotic or something?"

"I don't know her intentions. You know we don't ask those sorts of things. She only said she wanted to hire the best, and said she wanted someone popular and mentioned that she needed someone who was up for the task so obviously I went with you. Are you coming?"

"Up for the task? Oh great...one of those," he sighs again, "yeah, I'm on the way up in the elevator now ....," he hangs up and walks into the office

"Another happy marriage-," his boss smiles, "that's the what....ninth one? You've been with us for nine years-"

Jungkook simply allows his face to speak his emotions for him and holds his hand out for the folder

"Come on, don't be like that when you-"

"I won't," Jungkook moves his fingers in the 'give it over' motion and chews his lip ring to read the contents of the manilla folder in his hand; chewing as his eyes scan the file. It was the usual client folder, a photo of you at the top, your name, age, "where's the rest of it?" He looks up and asks

"That's it," he shrugs, "that's all she would give us, her name and age, wouldn't give us anything else but she was paying more than necessary and seemed desperate so I stopped asking questions. She said she would meet you immediately, she was hungry"

His eyes blink a few times and brows scrunch in confusion, "just her name and age? That's it? And she was hungry?"

His boss shrugs again, "yeah, said she wanted something warm because it was freezing, I suggested the place we went to last week; that was about," he looks at the time, "30 minutes ago, she said she would wait up there and give me time to brief you when you got here"

"Seriously, what does she do? Why is she hiring me?"

"Ask her that yourself, she's your wife as of now for the next year"

"Who-who-what-who-what girl just up and leaves her country and moves to another one and hires a fake husband? How long has she been here?"

"Dude, I don't know. You ask her; at least she's your age this time and not a old lady, she's only months older than you. Go on"

"Alright ," Jungkook pushes himself up and leaves to come meet you

You were easy to spot so he looks for a second, you were quite short for a 27 year old and you were currently shoving three fourths of a donut into your mouth. Gross. Charming Jungkook, you're working, you're just tired, it's just a job

He rubs his hand over his face, gives his shoulders a shake it off and takes a deep breath before coming over and greeting you. "Annyeonghaseyo"

You look up and see him bowing to you and that smile takes your breath away, you will yourself to return the smile and bow back. "Hi.....Y/N," you offer him a handshake after you wipe your hands on a napkin which he accepts. He sits so you sigh in relief internally that he can speak English. "You speak English, I'm relieved...."

"Yes, do you...speak Korean? When I said hello you responded"

"No, I'm sorry. I know I'm an asshole but I do want to try and learn. I also don't expect you to speak English if you don't want to by the way," you assure him because you're sure you both sense the awkwardness

"Thankyou...," he seems shocked, "I don't mind, we will need to communicate so if it makes things easier. So....I know your name, I'm uh....I'm Jungguk"

"Nice to meet you," you say and smile honestly, "Thankyou for doing that and agreeing to do this, I appreciate it-"

"It's my job, I was wanting to ask you some things. Your uh...your file ...it only had your name, your age and your photo, so.....well....what do you do? I mean you have to do something to be able to move and hire someone at my service, and, why? I mean why are you hiring me? What are your intentions? What made you do it? If we have to do this, we should know something about each other...."

"You speak English really well huh?....." You chuckle and fidget with your straw, twirling it around in your drink and looking at it, "well.....I don't do anything, I'm starting over and fresh, so I gave you all the info needed. My intentions," you shrug, "I am by myself in a foreign place and I don't know the language or anything; when you said hello, hello is sort of universal and it's one of the few words I do know-by the way, I understand why you bow and I'm honored but it really isn't necessary to bow to me. You aren't below me and I'm not trying to be disrespectful. I don't have any intentions really, it would be nice if you could teach me the language and I would pay you but you don't have to. You don't have to do anything." You shrug again

"I don't understand," he looks very lost, "I don't have to do anything?"

You she your head, "No. I was briefed by that guy, I believe he runs your company, on your protocol and you don't have to sleep in the bed with me, you don't even have to live in a home with me--"

"So....why did you hire me? What do I have to do then?"

"All I ask is maybe we can eat together sometimes I guess," you shrug, "and if you want to, the teaching me"

"So you are paying all that money, just to have a possible tutor and a pretend....friend?"

"Yeah, pretty much," you nod and laugh, "sound good? Besides he told me you just got divorced from your last client yesterday so you have to be exhausted"

There's silence as he is so stunned and confused for a long moment which you take to try your soup and end up slurping a bit which causes him to look over at you, scratching his head and he giggles, "Is it good? I won't take it"

"What?" You ask and realize, "oh sorry, I thought that was polite to do here if you thought something was good and I didn't want to be rude and offend anyone. I'm already being stared at...it's the opposite-I don't really like soup but it's freezing, it's nice and warm-Im sorry-," you stammer fearing you had offended him

"No need to be sorry. Alright well you have to have some type of rule or expectations for me?" He sees the goosebumps on your skin and hesitantly eyes everyone, he notices what you mean that a few people are staring at you. "Here," he takes off his coat and wraps it around you.

"Uhm....t-thankyou, you don't have to, I'm sure it's embarrassing-no rules or expectations, only that you honor the contract to do it for a year, I only ask that-"

"We can talk about it in a bit, finish eating....your sweater is very thin"

You nod and eat, it's silent even after when he leaves with you and you start walking towards your apartment as the snow falls. You didn't mind much, you were distracted by the pretty lights.

"oh, I'm so sorry, thankyou," you take his jacket off from around yourself and hand it back when you notice him shivering; you insisted when you left the restaurant. He resisted but only agreed when he noticed a street salesman selling scarves and hats. He took your hand and brought you over to it, put a scarf around your neck, a hat on your head, and then held up gloves. You shook your head to say no thankyou to them as you reached for your cash to hand him but he pushed your hand back down and paid the man. "It's freezing, you will need a better coat....," he finally speaks to you after clearing his throat, all that had been done in awkward silence with no words between the two of you

"Thankyou Jungguk, you really didn't have to do that..."

"I don't want you getting sick, I would do that for anyone.....can't have my wife out in this weather like that," he tries to smile and puts one hand in his pants pocket, then you both look at your feet as you stroll the sidewalk only speaking every so often when he asks something

"......what do you mean you don't have any rules or expectations?"

"what do you mean?"

"well....you said you basically just want a friend and tutor so, are we seeing other people? Things like that, our boundaries ...."

"Yes, you are free to see whoever you'd like and do whatever you please, whenever you like. You don't have to actually pretend to be my husband as the protocol says for image sake," you chuckle, "you seem so sweet, I wouldn't want to embarrass you like that. It's as simple as this, just pretend to enjoy my company during meals eve-no, just have a meal with me every now and then, it doesn't have to be often either, and you can just be yourself and do it for a year, that's all. I won't even speak if you don't want me to if you're having a day that isn't good, I will do the same and just be there for you too. That's literally all, I don't expect anything else. You're a free human being and a free man."

"I am.... flabbergasted.... alright....well, you've said that twice now"

"Said what twice?" You look up at him to meet his eyes

"That do it for a year, I mean I will, that's what the contracts last for, but, I did notice that in your file, you signed that if we didn't do the year that you wouldn't expect any alimony or anything"

"oh yeah, I don't"

"So.....you don't expect that? To be able to make it for a year? Noone ever would sign that but you not only signed it, you added that clause"

"I know," you say simply and nod, "I wanted you to know that," you shrug, "I expect nothing and I'm not forcing you into anything, I wanted you to be comfortable-" you feel him take your hand to hold it and realize it's to guide you across a street, ".......your hands are frozen, you should have let me get the gloves.......," he looks hurt, like he genuinely cares; you aren't sure how to respond, so you don't for a moment. "Jungguk, I told you, you don't have to d-"

"I told you, I would do it for anyone...."

"......I believe you.....thankyou.....please, don't worry. So.....do we have a deal? I mean....will you do it?"

"Which one? I don't think I could do both"

"Oh," you gulp, okay, that's disappointing, "That's alright," you smile, "You don't have to do either, my apartment is just up here, I'm sure you're exhausted. Thankyou for meeting to speak with me, walking me home and buying me the scarf and hat," you say being completely genuine and bow, walking ahead up the slope

"Wait, Y/N," you hear him catch up, "I was kidding, ofcourse, I can do both. Honestly, I am exhausted so thankyou," he laughs

"Oh, thankyou," you smile in relief and then remember something and try to avoid letting him see your teeth. "Actually, we-....we're already at your place and it actually is freezing, do you mind if I stay the night?"

"Yeah, yeah, ofcourse, I'd hate to send you walking back in this frigid cold. Come in," you show him inside. "Make yourself at home-you didn't eat, are you hungry? I'm not the best cook but I've got a few things, I could give it a shot"

"No thankyou, I ate before....," he sits on the couch

"Okay, well if you change your mind you're welcome to it"

"Thankyou.....so for the tutoring, how is three times a week?"

"That sounds great," you nod, "thankyou so much again and how much would I owe you?"

"You're already paying me, don't worry about it-"

"Tell me if you change your mind-"

"Why do you sound like you have to pay me just for my presence like just talking to you?"

"I-," you're caught off guard by the question and accurate read he had, "well, this is your work and want you to get your worth," you try to clear your throat

"I do. You wouldn't have to pay me if we just met naturally, right? Just pretend that's what's happening"

"I'm sorry, I don't know if I can, I don't know if I'm comfortable with that....," you say honestly

".....well, your age was in the file, we're the same year; when is your birthday? That's usually basic info on clients files"

"......I-it's in-....the calendar year," you give the most believable laugh you can muster but it doesn't fool him

"..... alright, I can't make you tell me, but, that would be a meal we shouldn't skip....I know it's months before mine.....mine is September 1st....," he looks at you and waits for a response

"September 1st, thankyou I'll make note to remember so we can have a meal," you smile and sit across opposite of him

"So what about you? You have been doing this for nine years, you're, I hope it's okay for me to be candid and honest, you are absolutely visual perfection and you're the definition of gentleman, so why aren't you really hitched?"

He blushes dark as one of Marilyn Monroe's lipsticks and rubs his neck, "thank you-"

"Oh come on, you have to be used to being told that"

"Still doesn't make it less flattering," he chuckles, "When I was younger, I needed money and then....really, I don't know.....I guess ....I felt like I was sort of....helping people," he shrugs, "so I'm a Virgo....you?"

"Nice try," you smirk and chuckle

"Give me something~"

"Alright....it's...."

"Yeah?"

"A star sign....that's not Leo"

"Aish~," he throws his head back

"Good night Jungguk, there is a room I've had made for you," you stand to go to your room

"Made for me?"

You turn to see his brow raised

"Yes, I told you I wanted you to be comfortable and didn't expect anything, you don't have to follow that protocol, I won't tell your boss"

"Wait, so you really didn-you had a room made for me?"

"Yes," you repeat, now you're the one who is baffled by his being confused

"You renovated and had a entire room added to your flat and furnished just for me so I wouldn't have to share with you if I didn't want to?"

"Pretty much, night. Sweet dreams," you smile

"Yeah....uhm thankyou....good night"

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts x reader #jungkook x reader

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lupe-jess · 1 year ago

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Thank you to everyone who came up with amazing theories, you made this show better than the writers ever could!

#destined with you #now that the excitement has worn off all i am is angry lmao #will still be blogging hong jo/shin yu bc they did have their cute moments #but i'm mostly angry on behalf of almost all the women on this show #aeng cho murdered and for what?#shin yu's mom stuck in a marriage with an abusive asshole with a baby on the way #ms ma who did not want to get married but now she is anyway bc mr gong really wanted to #hong jo's coworkers what was the point of them being so mean and only using hong jo to get closer to the men in her life?#even na yeon! she could have had some great motives for the shit she did but nope #hong jo bby girl ily but they did you so dirty #i feel like everything that's happened in this show was for the men #me a few days ago: i can't wait to watch again #me now: 🤡

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satoruxx · 1 year ago

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ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words

✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!

i. 2007

satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.

he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.

satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.

he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.

you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.

ii. 2007

(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.

a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.

"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.

"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."

you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"

he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.

you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)

iii. 2008

satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.

he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.

"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.

"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."

"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."

he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.

you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.

iv. 2007

(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.

nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.

shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."

when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.

then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.

satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.

shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)

v. 2008

it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.

he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.

every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.

you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.

"where's suguru?"

he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.

it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.

"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.

you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.

"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.

"what do you mean, gone?"

satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."

he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.

he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.

when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.

you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.

"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.

you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.

vi. 2007

(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.

you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.

"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.

"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.

satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.

"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."

he grins. "what? can't stay away?"

you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."

satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.

but you see right through him, like you always do.

"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."

"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.

"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."

fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.

"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.

you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."

he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"

the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.

he should've gone with you.)

vii. 2012

satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.

it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.

he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.

and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"

your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.

"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.

"nobody." he had answered.

he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.

"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"

"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."

you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"

"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.

"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.

satoru's mug shatters against the wall.

the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.

"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."

"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.

his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.

viii. 2006

(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.

even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.

he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.

"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."

shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"

"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."

your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.

the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.

and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)

ix. 2017

satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.

he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.

you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.

it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.

satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.

he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.

"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."

you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"

"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."

there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.

"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.

god he misses you so much.

he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.

"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"

his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.

he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.

you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.

he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.

when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.

satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.

he misses you so much.

x. 2007

(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.

he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.

well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.

maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.

that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.

there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.

they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.

it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.

"what are you doing?"

satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.

"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.

"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.

"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.

satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.

even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.

suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.

satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.

suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.

the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.

satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.

only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.

then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.

then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.

just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.

"don't want him to get lost."

xi. 2018

something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.

satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.

but something is wong. he needs to wake up.

the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.

you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.

you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?

you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.

you'll always haunt him.

you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.

for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.

he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.

he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.

your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.

his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.

"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.

"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.

no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.

no more haunting.

there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.

his eyes fall shut with a sigh.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

3K notes · View notes

cherryxbooo · 11 days ago

Text

You’re my ideal type

Summary: A video from a year ago of Oscar talking about his ideal type went viral, making his fans wonder why he chose his girlfriend. This leaves y/n with a lot of questions herself.

Note: First time writing for Oscar! I kinda went with the flow. Let me know what you think! 😌

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: fluff/angst

It was a beautiful, sunny day in Monaco. I was out with two of my friends, enjoying brunch together and soaking up the good vibes.

We spent hours talking, laughing, and joking around—overall, it was a fantastic time.

Afterward, we decided to go for a stroll. That’s when we stumbled upon a gorgeous spot with an incredible view. For girls, that can only mean one thing: a photo session. And, of course, we took full advantage.

We snapped countless pictures of each other—exactly what I needed. I’d been wanting to update my Instagram feed, and I knew Oscar would appreciate a few of these too. A win-win situation if you ask me.

Hours later, we decided to head home. Parting ways was bittersweet, but we all had things to do.

When I finally arrived at the place Oscar and I shared, I immediately went inside, feeling my social battery completely drained.

I glanced at the clock and sighed. There were still a few hours to go before Oscar would be home. Feeling a little bored, I decided to tackle some household chores to pass the time.

Eventually, I finished everything and switched to full-on "bed rotting" mode. As I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, I remembered the stunning photos we’d taken earlier.

Sitting up, I started going through them, carefully picking out the best ones to upload to Instagram.

yourusername posted on Instagram!

Liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbffuser and others

yourusername Days like these ☀️💐

View all comments

oscarpiastri Pretties girl ❤️ by author

alexandrasaintmleux Gorgeous ❣️

yourusername Says you 💋

f1_dailylvr81 She's so girly coded love it 💅

fashionistaformula I can't be the only one thinking about that one interview of Oscar?

paistryln481 You're not alone, every time I see her I keep thinking about it

foryoutt16 Wait what? I'm lost, what happened?

cocosainzyy55 @foryoutt16 An old interview of Oscar when he was still in F2 resurfaced and he was talking about his ideal type and the description he gave matches nothing to his current girlfriend. People are suddenly bringing this up again, wondering why he didn't choose his ideal type.

foryoutt16 Oh damn that's rough...

The comments and likes flooded in, as they always did. Sometimes, I forgot that I was dating an F1 driver—it came with its own kind of spotlight.

But as I scrolled through the comments under my post, a few things caught my attention.

One comment in particular stood out: something about an old interview of Oscar.

Confused and curious, I decided to look it up. Little did I know, I was about to regret it...

My stomach twisted into knots as I watched the video, realization sinking in. Oscar described his ideal woman, and her characteristics were unlike ones I possessed. I felt a wave of insecurities and doubts wash over me, each word a reminder of how I didn't fit the bill for his ideal partner.

My heart sank with every word he spoke, describing his ideal woman's qualities - and every one felt like another reminder of how far off the mark I was.

I couldn't help but wonder, "Why did he choose me?" His words stung, and I questioned whether he settled for less than his ideal because he didn't have better options.

On cue, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Oscar returned home and called out my name. His voice echoed through the hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. I hesitated, a mix of fear and confusion gripping me, as I debated whether to face him with this newfound knowledge.

He entered the room with a warm smile, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. He greeted me with a gentle kiss on the forehead before starting to speak in sweet words.

"Hey babe, how was your day?" he asked, completely unaware of the recent discovery I made.

I forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside as I replied, "It was fine," my voice trying to mask the disappointment and insecurity that bubbled up.

The words left my lips, sounding hollow compared to the usual warmth in my tone.

Oscar sensed the hint of falsity in my fake smile. His observant nature picked up on the subtle cues of my distress, and he recognized that something was off. Yet, instead of immediately asking about it, he chose to hold off, observing to see if I would bring it up.

Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. He kissed my temple gently, his touch providing a temporary sense of comfort.

He knew something was bothering me and chose not to press, offering a moment of respite instead. "Do you want takeout?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

I replied softly, trying to match his tenderness, "Sounds good." Despite my conflicting emotions, I didn't want to dampen the mood by revealing my insecurities.

"Takeout sounds great," I said, attempting to sound cheerful.

Oscar reluctantly let go of me, reaching for the phone to place the takeout order. In his absence, I seized the opportunity to sneak a look in the mirror, as well as to search for pictures of Oscar's ideal type.

I scoured the internet, comparing every aspect of my appearance to the images of his ideal woman. The comparison fueled my insecurities, amplifying the feeling of not measuring up.

My tears threatened to spill as I stood there, comparing myself to Oscar's ideal, but before they could, I heard Oscar's voice calling out.

"Y/n baby, the food will be here in twenty minutes," he informed me. I swiftly wiped away the tears before responding, attempting to hide the vulnerability in my voice, "Okay, thanks for letting me know."

Splashing my face with water to compose myself, hoping to hide any traces of my tears and distress. With determination, I dried my face and returned to the room where Oscar was, trying to mask my vulnerability.

After the food came, we ate together. I was quiet, it was mainly Oscar talking which was odd because normally it was always me talking and he would listen. We were currently cuddled up together after eating

Despite our cozy cuddle on the couch, my mind was preoccupied with worries. Thoughts like "What if he leaves me?" and "What if I'm not good enough?" consumed me.

Oscar noticed my distraction and asked if I was alright, concern in his voice. I replied, "Just tired," and although he didn't fully believe it, he decided not to push further.

Oscar spoke up once more, his voice soft and reassuring. "Y/n?" he began, his eyes searching mine.

"You know I love you, right? If there's anything bothering you, you know you can tell me," he emphasized, his tone filled with patience and support.

I nodded, attempting to hide the depth of my worries and insecurities. "Yeah, I know. I love you too," I responded, trying to sound reassuring.

The words felt heavy, knowing the weight of my unspoken fears.

A few weeks had passed since that moment of insecurity, and I had been avoiding Oscar, even though we lived together. I had made excuses to skip every Grand Prix , claiming I was too busy with work.

Yet, here I was, facing the mirror on the morning of a home race, feeling utterly unprepared. The interview weighed heavily on my mind, and I wasn't in the right state to face it.

Standing in front of my reflection, I looked at myself, thoughts of my inadequacy resurfacing.

Oscar entered the room, his gaze settling on me. He positioned himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head.

His presence brought both comfort and nerves as I stood in front of the mirror, still grappling with my insecurities.

He spoke softly, his compliment genuine and sweet. "I didn't know it was possible to be this pretty. You look amazing love," he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

I stepped away from him, the compliment not offering the comfort it usually would. My actions were distant, as if I was subconsciously putting up a barrier.

"Thanks," I responded distantly, my tone devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied my words.

The fear of his departure and my sense of inadequacy still lingered in my heart, casting a shadow over the moment.

Oscar seemed puzzled by my distant behavior, his confusion evident. Seeing right through my attempt to avoid him, he asked gently,

"Baby, did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?"

His voice was tinged with concern, his eyes filled with hurt at my distance.

I quickly responded, trying to change the subject. "No, you did nothing wrong. Uhm, shouldn't you leave for the race?"

Oscar looked at me, his gaze lingering on me before reluctantly letting it go.

"Wait, weren't you coming with me?" he questioned, his tone hinting at his confusion.

I responded with a slightly busted attitude, "Oh, uhm, I'm not done getting ready yet. I'll come later, though."

It was a lie, and Oscar seemed to sense that something was off.

Despite the passing time, he decided to focus on his own preparations while stealing a moment to kiss my forehead before leaving.

I took a moment to muster my courage, realizing that Oscar didn't deserve being pushed away because of my insecurities.

With a deep breath, I prepared myself to face the day and attend the race, pushing through the weight of my doubts.

As the hours flew by, I found myself standing in the garage, watching from afar, torn between my worries and the desire to support him.

After awhile I decided to go to the restroom since I still had some time before the race started.

As I was walking, I heard voices behind me, and my name being mentioned caught my attention.

I stopped to listen—not that I meant to eavesdrop, but hearing my name made it impossible not to.

From what I could tell, these girls were likely McLaren fangirls. Well duh after all, they were dressed in papaya colors.

Girl 1: "It's crazy that Oscar is still dating y/n. She doesn't even fit his ideal type."

Girl 2: "I know, right? Like, she's not even close."

Girl 3: "Yeah, he must be leading her on or something."

Girl 4: "Or maybe she's in it for the fame and money."

Girl 5: "Oh, definitely. There's no other reason she would be with him."

The girls' laughter echoed in my ears, each comment like a punch to my heart.

Girl 2: "Seriously, you'd think he could do better than her."

Girl 1: "Yeah, she's not even that attractive compared to the other girls he's dated before."

Girl 3: "I bet he'll realize soon that he could get someone way better."

Girl 4: "Well, if the fame and money aren't enough, then he's definitely settling."

I couldn't bear to listen any longer, my tears streaming as I fled to the restroom, seeking solace to hide my distress.

Time slipped away as I stayed there, isolated, wrestling with my tormenting thoughts and self-doubts.

Meanwhile, the McLaren garage buzzed with pre-race energy, but Oscar couldn’t focus. His eyes darted around the paddock, scanning for any sign of you.

Anxiety churned in his gut as he spotted his teammate leaning casually against a workbench.

“Lando!” Oscar called, walking over briskly.

Lando glanced up, eyebrows raised. “What’s up, mate?”

Oscar hesitated before blurting out, “Have you seen Y/N anywhere?”

Lando frowned, clearly puzzled. “No, mate, haven’t seen her. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen her around for the last few races. Is everything okay?”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, mate. She’s been so distant lately, and I have no idea what I’ve done to upset her.”

Lando’s expression softened, a mix of pity and thoughtfulness. “Could it maybe have to do with that video that went viral again?”

Oscar blinked, confused. “What video? That old F2 interview of mine? That was years ago! I was just joking in most of it anyway.”

Lando shrugged, giving him a pointed look. “Mate, you might want to check the comments under her recent Instagram post. I think that’s your answer.”

With a sympathetic pat on the back, Lando turned and walked off, leaving Oscar alone with his thoughts.

He pulled out his phone, his fingers quickly navigating to your profile. The comments under your latest post hit him like a brick.

“Oh no,” Oscar muttered, his stomach sinking. “No wonder she’s been distant…”

He mentally kicked himself, remembering that dumb interview where he’d been too cocky for his own good.

“I didn’t even mean half the stuff I said,” he whispered to himself, cringing at the memory.

Before he could search for you and explain himself, a crew member called his name, dragging him toward the car for pre-race preparations.

“Great timing,” he muttered under his breath. But he made a promise to himself: as soon as this race was over, he’d find you and make things right.

Meanwhile, back to you, the restroom break had taken longer than expected. The initial plan to kill time before the race started had backfired; now, a dull ache was forming in my head, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping up on me.

I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, but the discomfort wasn’t going away.

Deciding it was best not to push myself, I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a message to Oscar:

Not feeling great. Heading back home. Don’t worry about me.

I hesitated before hitting send. He’d probably be confused or even concerned, but the last thing I wanted was to worry him.

With a sigh, I hit send and slipped my phone back into my bag.

As I stepped out of the restroom and headed for the exit, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

On the way, I also let Oscar's manager know I left, just in case he didn't check his phone.

I knew Oscar would notice my absence, but today, it felt easier to retreat than to stay and face everything swirling in my mind.

Little did I know, Oscar was already worrying.

The race had ended, with Oscar clinching a solid P4, just behind Lando. Though pleased with his result, his mind was elsewhere.

He wanted nothing more than to see you, to feel your arms around him, and hear you tell him how proud you were—just like old times.

But as he scanned the crowd, his hope began to waver. You weren’t there.

His manager noticed Oscar’s distracted gaze and approached him. “Looking for Y/N?” the manager asked gently.

“She left you a message. Said she wasn’t feeling well and headed home.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened, his heart sinking. You hadn’t told him the truth.

A mix of frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface. Without a word, he decided to skip the team celebrations and headed straight home.

When Oscar arrived, he didn’t waste a second. Dropping his bag by the door, he called out loudly—his voice sharper than usual.

“Y/N!”

You were downstairs in no time, a soft smile on your face.

“Oh, hey, Osc! You’re back early. How was the race?” I asked sweetly, trying to act normal.

But Oscar wasn’t having it. His expression was hard as he stared at you.

“You would’ve known if you didn’t leave,” he said, his voice laced with frustration.

Guilt washed over me, and you stammered, “I’m sorry, Osc. I wasn’t feeling well—”

“Cut the crap, Y/N!” he interrupted, startling you. His voice was raised, something he rarely did.

“When are you going to finally admit the real reason you’ve been like this? Tell me! I’m sick of it!”

I flinched but couldn’t blame him. He deserved an explanation. At the same time, I’d had enough, too. My emotions spilled out, my voice breaking.

“How would you feel if people kept telling you that your partner is too good for you? That you’re not good enough, that you’re too ugly, not their type, only with them for the money?!”

Tears streamed down my face as you continued.

“And yes, it’s about that stupid interview of yours! I can’t help it, okay? Call me dumb, call me a crybaby, but this is too much!”

By now, I was full-on sobbing, unable to meet his gaze. But before I could crumble further, I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me close.

His voice was soft now, gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me, baby? I could’ve helped. We’re a team, remember?”

I sniffled, my voice trembling as I replied, “Those were your words, Oscar. I can’t take them back or change them.”

He sighed, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “Babe, that interview was years ago. I was joking around the entire time. If you’d watched the whole thing, you’d see that.”

I shook my head, unsure, but he leaned back just enough to look at me.

“Since when is my favorite color pink?” he teased, a small laugh escaping him.

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, too.

“That's better,” he said, smiling.

“Listen to me. Everything I said in that interview wasn’t true. I was 18, tired, and didn’t even want to be there. I was just trolling to get it over with.”

I laughed again at his confession, finally meeting his eyes.

“There’s that pretty smile,” he said, his tone softer now. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but next time, talk to me, okay?”

I nodded, wiping your tears. “I will. I’m sorry for doubting you… for pushing you away.”

He smiled warmly, leaning in to peck your lips a few times.

“It’s okay, love. I get why you did it. But don’t you ever doubt yourself again, yeah? You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me. How did I get so lucky, huh?”

He cupped your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before pulling you into a long, passionate kiss. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Don’t you ever doubt yourself,” he whispered. “You’re my ideal type. Always.”

I laughed softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

Suddenly, Oscar scooped me up into his arms, bridal style, making me squeal.

“Osc! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

He grinned, shaking his head as he headed toward the bedroom.

“Nope. Let me show my gorgeous girl how much I love her.”

And let’s just say, the night ended perfectly. From that moment on, I never doubted his love for me ever again.

oscarpiastri posted on Instagram!

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oscarpiastri An amazing race to finish off the week. A big thank you to the entire team and the fans. Also a big thank you to my beautiful girlfriend for being the best support.

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yourusername So so proud of you Osc!!! Love you! 🩷

oscarpiastri Love you too pretty!

landonorris Well done mate 🙌 extra support is always great!

oscarpiastri Thanks man! You're right especially if she's just my type 😉

yourusername 🤭 ❤️ by author

lalalandnorris4you Oscar really gagged all of you haters purr 💅

frvrformulaonestan1 This is the cutest thing ever brb I'm going to cry 🥹

notyourfan481 Bro Oscar you don't have to lie we all know this ain't you

osclvy/n Girl stfu he isn't going to notice you ffs 🙄

lovelypeachlan4 You thought you did sum? Get out 👉🚪

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yourusername A little recap of last week 🤍

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yourbffuser Looking like a snack 😋😍🥵

yourusername Love ya 💋🫦

oscarpiastri Gorgeous 😍

yourusername Love youu Osc 🥰

alexandrasaintmleux So so so pretty 😘

yourusername Says you beautiful 😉💕

lv4motorsports81 She's so pretty omd

manyyynorriz She's gorgeous, don't know what people were on about 🤨

banananorrispiastry81 🤢

nothingthelessnorris4 And you did this for what ☠️

piastrybakerlvr Move on he isn't going to notice you 🥱

lvlynorrisss4 Yet your comment didn't make any change to this world... Grow up 🤦‍♀️

The end

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #oscar x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri au #oscar piastri angst

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goldsbitch · 7 months ago

Text

remember that

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But everyone need assurance that they are still loved sometimes. The first time Lando almost slept on a couch blurb

warning: couple fight, angst

It was bad. This time, it was really fucking bad.

After weeks of snarky comments being swallowed in, the "it's fine" line being burned into Lando's ears almost on a daily basis and growing minutes Y/N had to wait before Lando decided to respond to her texts, shit finally hit the fan.

They hadn't seen each other for two weeks now. Inevitable fight broke out right as he crossed the threshold. Postponed dates and forgotten dinners lined up. They couldn't help themselves and put it all on the table. First it was the fact she didn't smile upon seeing him, then it was a reminder that he promised to bring something from Italy and forgot. It went on and on and on. She sat at the dinning table, while he leaned over at the kitchen counter.

"Lando, sometimes it feels like I'm in a relationship with your assistant and not you! For heaven sake, this week I had to call him, once again, when I could not reach you. Do you know how embarrassing it is?" she half-screamed into her hands.

Lando took a breath so deep an average yoga teacher would be jealous. "How am I suppose to be expected to pick up on a race day. You know that I get super busy and distracted."

"Funny how you never were when we started dating," she murmured bitterly.

He had to turn away, couldn't watch his love giving up on him just because they were not in the honeymoon stage anymore. "Yes, but now I'm winning races! Closer to my dream that I've ever been. It's different now."

"I'm glad I met you back then, because obviously you'd not date me if we met now," she couldn't stop those words that rotted in her coming out.

A beat. Maybe it was time to actually break the rule for once and go to sleep angry, because it was getting out of hand. "You know what, that's probably true and it breaks my heart that once I start doing well, you're suddenly not the supporting girlfriend anymore."

A crushing blow. "Tell me how am I suppose to support you if you don't even answer my phone! We used to talk for hours!

"Maybe understand that I can't!"

"I do! But you can't assume that I'll let you push me away completely!"

Lando thew his hands up in desperation. How could she not see it? "I'm coming here to you whenever I have a slightest chance! And I come what? You constantly dragging me through the mud."

"Oh interesting you mention that. How sad that your assistant had to remind you of my sensitive skin before you having him book me an "apology mud massage" when you cancelled on me few weeks ago," se shot, knowing it would hit the target.

"How do you even know that!" he said, unable to comprehend that he did not even control his paid assistant, not mention his own life anyway.

"Well, I talk a lot to you assistant! And he slips up!" It was a weird friendship between people who both wished they could get a little more info out of Lando.

"That's it. I can't deal with this now," he said, with the intention to sleep on the couch for the first time in their relationship. He didn't even know why he chose that action, walking towards their bedroom and dramatically bringing a pillow and a blanket over to the sofa, but if this is what couples did when the fought, there must have been a reason for it.

It absolutely infuriated her. Sparked up something she hoped she'd never feel. "Oh, sleep tight." she spitted with bitter undertone.

"I will!"

They walked around each other in silence, him getting ready to sleep on the couch and her cutting her skincare short this time and spending more time debating whether to close the bedroom door as they usually would or leave it open. Just in case.

He could hear her shifting back and forth. It angered him a little bit, since he was the one playing a cruel joke on his already tired muscles.

Thousand things she wanted to say and only one came to her mind in a form of an actual sentence. There goes nothing. "Do you still feel good about this?"

"What?" he whispered, not expecting her to speak to him again before the next day.

"Nevermind, forget I asked."

"About what!" He hated when she did this. If you didn't catch up at the first moment, she did not give you a second chance.

"Do you still feel good about us, being together?" She cursed herself for asking this. Dangerous questions brought up explosive answers. She wished for a reassurance and a rejection. She snuggled deeper into her blanket and turned around to face the door. As if wishing for him to stand there and coming back to her.

Lando hated her question. In fact, it made him furious again. But it was a peace offering, he had already learned that before. "Even here, lying on the bloody couch, because we're fighting...It's the place I wanna be at."

Anxiety kicked in Y/N. "What, you mean like away from me?"

He laughed lightly. She was always thinking the worst. "No, silly. The exact opposite...We could both be at thousand different places at the moment. But we're not. And for me at least, it's because like---I want to be with you. I hate that we'd drifted apart lately. I'd love to be in bed with you, laughing without a care in the world, like we usually do. But, we can't do that now. And yet, I'd rather be left on the couch if I know you're next door than all alone in my bed." His words hit like small drops of rain after a long draught.

She whispered, choosing her words carefully. "You're my twin flame. You make my soul light up in fire, make me feel like I'm the sun. Do you know what my biggest fear is?"

Lando also tuned into sweeter tone, one that was more familiar from days filled with sunshine. "What, my love?"

"That we're gonna burn out. You and me, ending up like an epic love story. The good ones work because they end in tragedy."

"You're always so poetic," he smiled, proud to think he was her love story.

"There is no other way to describe how you'd changed my life. Flipped it upside down the moment you walked into the same room."

Lando chucked. "Yeah, remember that?"

"How could I not."

"You were not having a good day."

Finally, she spoke loudly again. "So, what? Everything was going to shit and the event we were doing had to be perfect before the 'important people' arrived".

"Such an ego boost to know I was your priority before you even met me," he uttered, happy to push her buttons.

"Oh, and you were so cocky! Just laughing around, like we were some sort of comedy sketch."

"Well, I'm sorry, have you heard yourself when you're upset? The way how your voice goes up seven octaves higher?" he laughed, his breath feeling lighter now.

"Coming from you, that's rich! You were giggling in a tone so high the elderly couldn't hear you!"

"I'm so happy I managed to bag the grumpiest person in the building. And bare in mind there must have been around 500 people there."

"980 if you could in staff as well."

He let out a heavy sigh. "You with your pristine memory."

She paused before responding. "Yes. Wish I didn't have that sometimes."

"Wish I had at least a pinch of that."

Silence fell in both rooms. Heavy breath and wondering eyes. The lack of their touch suddenly being more obvious than before. Playing a contest who will reach out first.

"Lando?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Can you back here, please?" she said, somewhat nervously. Lando took a pause. There was nothing he wished for more. It hurt to fight. But he figured a relationship needed that sometimes. As the poets say, you loose a woman when you forget to cherish her. He liked to think this went both ways. And they both started slacking a bit. He could only affect his own behavior, with the hope that she'd also come to the same understanding.

"I'd like nothing more in the world, my love."

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norikuna · 14 days ago

Text

THAT'S SO TRUE — toji fushiguro

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (e) and let the show begin !

prologue. → you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

warnings. reader has never been chill a day in her life, áge gáp, dílf!toji, big díck toji (ofc), voyeurísm (sorta implied), másturbátion (f), jealous sèx, reader watches toji through binoculars, they match each other's freak, creámpíe, reader gets called 'slutty' and 'doll', orál (m and f. receiving)

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. that's so true — gracie abrams

a/n. incredible art by sakimichan 🍃 i had so much fun writing this 😁 reader is an adult!! i imagined toji to be 35-ish, and reader to be 22...? its christmas day for me so i'm a tad late 😩

mp3. bet you're thinking 'she's so cool' kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room. wait! i think i've been there too!

if your friends knew what you were up to right now, they'd skip the intervention and go straight to dragging you to the nearest police precinct.

forget a lecture, they would slap a pair of handcuffs on you first, citing charges of being horny to the first degree.

officer! she just can't keep it in her pants!

but did you care? not in the slightest.

you adjust the blinds, nudging them just enough to angle your binoculars a little lower. focus sharpened, lens zoomed in, and there he was. the object of your totally healthy, not-at-all unhinged plan.

the target in question? toji fushiguro.

your next-door neighbour, who also happened to look like he'd walked straight out of a naked biker calendar. leather jacket snug over his broad shoulders, a frame built for sin, and pectorals that were so sculpted, you often dreamed of bouncing walnuts off them. just to see if the nuts would crack.

months ago, you had made a new years resolution to yourself that you wouldn't end this year without bagging the man at least once.

yet here you were on christmas eve, a few days shy of the year's end, still plotting and scheming like a bond villain on how you could charm the socks right off toji fushiguro.

but you feared that tonight was beginning to deliver a cold, harsh slap of reality.

your heart suddenly gives an undignifed lurch as toji swings off his motorcycle in one fluid motion. but your smirk — yes, you had been smirking and you wouldn't deny that, vanished the moment your binoculars caught sight of her.

right behind him, a woman dismounted with all the grace and mature confidence that you wished you could summon on a good day.

you twist the focus knob, an unfamiliar figure sharpening into clarity. tall, polished, probably closer to toji's age rather than yours, and way too pretty for your scheming, heinous comfort.

she's hooking her arm through his like they did this all the time, and her cherry-sweet smile beams up at him like he'd hung the damn christmas lights himself.

and then, then! she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, casual as a snowflake fluttering onto the concrete below.

your chest tightens oddly, though whether it was from jealousy or sheer mortification, you couldn't tell. and you didn't want to tell.

toji fushiguro, for his part, didn't seem fazed, at least, not outwardly. he turns his shaggy head away, smiling faintly with that gruff and polite expression he sometimes wore when someone cornered him into small talk.

not that it mattered. you couldn't stop the frown that tugged at your lips, watching the pair disappear out of view, the motorcycle keys still dangling from his thick fingers.

you sigh, setting the binoculars down with a little more force than necessary. tonight was supposed to be your night, the grand finale where you capped the year off with a big win in the shape of this six-foot-two man, with green eyes that could strike you dumb.

and you had even planned ahead! you'd been certain that there wouldn't be any pesky interruptions, particularly of the pint-sized variety.

not that you had anything against megumi fushiguro, he was a good kid — if a little unnerving with that brooding energy he carried around like a hefty backpack.

but still, you'd never really spoken to him much. call it morals or basic decency, but dragging a clueless kid into your schemes just felt a little wrong.

so when you had overheard toji casually mentioning that megumi was out for a sleepover with some friend, something about how nice it would be to have a night for himself, you had taken that as a sign from the universe. a green light.

fate herself waving you through the doors to make your move.

except now, traitorous fate had also thrown you a curveball in the form of the older, mystery woman who had been clinging to toji's back on the motorcyle. all expensive burgundy fur, and a darling blowout that was way out of a college student's pay cheque.

still, you're not the kind of woman who folds at the first sign of trouble. no, you think, squaring your shoulders. who would you be if you gave up now? perseverance is the backbone of triumph, or something like that.

the walls of this apartment are criminally thin, and you trust that the muffled thuds coming from next door are none other than toji fushiguro leading his...date up the stairs and down the hallway. the metallic jingle of keys confirms it, a sound that sends a pang of irritation prickling beneath your skin.

your gaze shifts to your desk, to the corkboard cluttered up with polaroids of your friends, random university flyers, and pinned up lecture schedules that you never follow. you press three fingers to your lips, in a respectful and solemn kiss, before tapping your photograph of aaron hotchner, in a promise for the near future.

"i won't give up, hotch," you murmur, the solemn, printed face of thomas gibson crossing his arms — gazing back at you, a beacon of motivational determination.

and with that, you grab a notepad and the first pen you can find, even though it's half-dried and it can barely write. you flip the pages open, and begin dotting down your back-up plan on how to score toji fushiguro tonight.

you're pretty sure it's been an hour since you started furiously scribbling on paper. five dried-out pens and a mountain of crumpled drafts later, each one titled with variations of how to get toji fushiguro in my bed, your notepad is starting to look like a pathetic manifesto.

you sip idly at your grape soda, the fizzy sweetness staining your tongue a violent purple. and listen, to be clear, you're absolutely a feminist. truly. you're not the type to believe in pitting women against each other. that's messy, unsophisticated, and frankly it's far beneath you.

but sadly, here's the other thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. and as much as you hate to admit it, toji fushiguro, your brooding and hulking neighbour with shoulders that eclipse the sun, has your resolve teetering right on the edge. the wanting and lusty human spirit is unbreakable, and the idea of losing is as appealing as licking sandpaper.

the sound of a low thud breaks through your plotting, as you drop the end of the pen out of your mouth. your ears perk up at the faint creak of a door opening. you recognise the gruff voice, muffled through the thin walls.

"damn heater's out again. 'm just gonna go check the switch downstairs."

uh-huh. that's what you thought. this was just act one of the stage play.

see, about forty five minutes ago, inspiration had struck. you'd realised you needed to get toji out of his apartment, and given his bear-like simplicity: eat, sleep, grumble, repeat, it wasn't exactly that easy.

but every man needed his rest, and no man could rest on christmas eve when the snow was sticking to the window pane from the cold.

so, you had snuck downstairs and flipped the heater's breaker to his apartment off, leaving the rest blissfully untouched. setting an ideal trap for the vast man.

you crack your door open, just enough to watch him lumber off towards the left staircase.

it's one of two routes down to the basement, and the fastest, if you hadn't intercepted fate. about twenty minutes into your plan, you had grabbed a handful of out of order signs (printed with comic sans, the true villain of typography) and plastered them halfway down the left flight of stairs.

you dart towards the right staircase, your knee-high socks skimming the concrete steps in a frantic descent. as you reach the halfway point, you hear the telltale grunt of a frustrated toji.

"damn management can't even warn people about closures," he's muttering to himself, heavy footsteps falling in line behind yours.

right on cue. by the time he reaches the basement, there you are, innocently peering at the big, clunky switchboard. like it wasn't you who had just broken into it to render toji's apartment a freezing chill.

your sweater's been strategically tugged off one shoulder, and you're pretending the icy air isn't slicing at your bare legs, left exposed by the shortest pair of shorts you own.

"what brings ya down here?" toji grunts, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.

you count it as a small victory when his eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, before the older man coughs and shifts his focus back to the switchboard. you sidle closer under the guise of curiosity, so close that the fabric of your sweater brushes his arm. the steel biceps flexing under the tight, black fabric of his tee.

"i don't know," you sigh, feigning innocence with a touch of melancholia, "it jus' got so cold of all a sudden." you cross your arms over your chest, pretending to shiver just enough to catch his attention without looking concerningly ill.

toji glances down at you briefly, his brow furrowing, "mhm. yeah," he mutters, before turning back to the labyrinth of switches, "can't believe how these clowns the place."

you watch as the man leans in, studying the panel like it's some kind of ancient artefact. his expression is set in that serious, furrowed way men always get when faced with the unfamiliar terrain of household maintenance.

cute. almost.

you, of course, had done your homework. a quick google search of the model number earlier had led you to the manual, and you already knew it was the purple switch on the top right. but why rush, eh? if toji fushiguro wanted to play handyman, who were you to deprive him? especially when you needed a little more time to set the mood, to give him some ideas.

every time his fingers hovered closer to the correct switch, you leaned in, cutting him off with casual chatter. enough to have the man's eyes drop over you once more, before flicking away before he could break the bounds of propriety.

"so, are you doing anything tonight?"

"what?" his gruff tone reverberates through the dim basement, bouncing off the concrete walls.

you flutter your lashes at him, meeting his sharp, verdant gaze, "i mean, it's christmas eve. got any fun plans?"

he straightens slightly, his hand falling from the panel as he looks right at you, "nah. just stayin' in." but toji tilts his head and throws the question back at you, "why aren't you?"

"why aren't i, what?" you tilt your head to mirror the man, feigning confusion, "staying inside? i was, but then i got cold. y'know, busted heater and all."

toji exhales through his nose, and you watch mesmerised as the scar twitches over his lip, "no, doll. i mean, doing something fun. you're young. got your whole life ahead of you to be old and boring."

the faintest flicker of a genuine smile tugs at the corner of your glossy lips. if only he knew. you clear your throat, "i guess," and you shrug, the movement subtle, but just enough to let your sweater slip a little further off your shoulder, "it's just not my...taste."

your gaze trails over him, deliberate but not obvious enough to tip the scales out of your hand. you hope that you're not wide-eyed taking in how his broad shoulders ripple, almost tense?

"ah." toji fushiguro, everybody. a man of great wit, and even greater vocabulary.

he's tapping a knuckle against the switchboard, frowning at the rows of colourful levers like they've personally insulted him. you take the moment to edge a little closer, peering up at him with a deliberate and doe-eyed expression.

"need help?" you ask, voice sweet enough to break through teeth.

toji snorts, "you? help me with this?" he glances at you sideways, one thin brow quirking up, "i've got this, doll," but he seems to sober up, remembering that he does not have this, "unless you even know what this thing does?"

"of course i do," you shrug, feigning nonchalance, "i'm pretty good at flicking the right switch."

and what a sweet, untainted victory when toji's movements still. he doesn't tear his gaze away from the switchboard, but his hands pause and you see his lips twitch, "uh-huh."

"you should probably head back upstairs," he says gruffly, his tone almost concerned, "basement's freezin' and you're gonna catch a cold in, uh," and toji's gesturing vaguely at your thin ensemble, clearly trying to be polite.

"i know, but i was just comfortable in this," you run your hands, pretending to tug at the hem of your shorts. ignoring how the goosebumps are practically beating your ass right now, and you're about an inch of a temperature drop away from hypothermia.

toji fushiguro mutters something under his breath, something about attitude and young people these days, but he doesn't move away when you sidle back closer to him again, the faint brush of your arm against his making the great man stiffen up again.

"so, no christmas eve plans at all?" you press again, cocking your head, "not even a little festive cheer? eggnog?"

"festive cheer?" toji scoffs, finally pulling the purple switch as the low hum of the heater continues to chug away. dusting his hands off like he's just solved a national crisis, like you couldn't have solved that ten minutes ago, "i'm not big on christmas."

"that's tragic," you sigh, "and i was gonna ask you to stand with me under the mistletoe." your tone is teasing, light enough to deflect any serious questions but you let your lips form a soft pout. just enough to teeter on the edge of innocence. the faint, almost-whine in your tone is carefully calibrated: harmless on the surface but laced with the kind of undercurrent that can plant ideas in a man's head.

"ya' got jokes tonight," toji's gaze lingers, a little longer than necessary. you don't miss the way his shoulders draw tighter together. how his jaw ticks, but the real prize for you is when his hand slides up to rub the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the thick muscle, like he's trying to shake something loose.

the corner of your mouth twitches again, oh. you've got him now.

"imagine going through life, so lonely on christmas. that's gotta do something to a person." you're so not seeing the pearly gates, but you've come to terms with that.

"yeah? like what?" toji huffs.

you tap a finger against your chin, pretending to think, "well. for starters, it probably makes you very grumpy."

"tch, 'm not grumpy," toji rasps, but his tone says otherwise, as he runs a hand through sleek strands of dark hair, "yer' something else, you know that?"

"i've been told."

tojo shakes his head again, and you don't miss the faint smile tugging at the corner of his thin mouth, "alright, kid. time to head back up before you freeze to death down here."

time's up on this charade. you puff out a breath, your coy bravado dimming just a little bit, "fine, fine. but i'm not a kid, y'know."

toji's green eyes flick to yours, like chips of sea-glass as he holds your gaze, before turning back towards the stairs, "yeah. i know."

you follow him up in silence, the soft patter of your socks suddenly too cold on the pavement. at the top of the steps, toji pauses, glancing back at you with an unreadable expression, "get some rest. and make sure no-one's messin' with the switches."

"why would they do that?" you say, a touch too quickly.

"no reason," toji says, just as abruptly, stepping back as though putting physical distance between you two would help, "but it's all fixed now. go on, back to your apartment."

you blink, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift, "what? no thanks for keeping you company."

"thanks," toji fushiguro says flatly, but his gaze isn't unkind.

"wow. don't get too sentimental on me now."

"goodnight," the man deadpans, swinging your door open for you, just for good measure. before turning on his heel, and heading for his own room.

back to the drawing board.

toji fushiguro is convinced that the universe has it out for him. some karmic retribution is surely circling overhead, just waiting to strike. because really, what other explanation is there for his constant predicaments?

his life had been fine, a little lonely, sure, but manageable. until you moved in next door, perhaps sometime last year. sweet, maddening, entirely too pretty for your own good.

what the hell was toji supposed to do with that?

he's still rubbing the back of his neck, pushing open the door to his apartment. his date, right, was still perched on the old couch, scrolling through her phone. she's looking up at him when he entered, arching a brow.

"hey, you were gone for a while," she lightly comments, tucking her phone away.

"yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that," he mutters, crossing to the kitchen, "this place has a habit of breaking down on me."

shui had set him up with this woman, insisting that toji needed to crawl out of his self-imposed hermit hole and start living a little.

"you're not getting any younger, fushiguro," shui had snarked, as if toji didn't already feel every year weighing on him. so, fine. he'd agreed, figuring one dinner with a woman way out of his tax bracket wouldn't kill him.

and to be fair, the date had been...fine. the woman was attractive, sharp-witted, and she didn't pester him with inane questions. the kind of woman that most people would be thrilled to spend an evening with. but toji just couldn't shake the strange emptiness that had settled in his chest.

still, he had told himself to quit overthinking. maybe he was just out of practice. or maybe shui oddly had a point, and he needed to stop letting life pass him by. so, he'd invited her back to his place, hoping another glass of wine and small talk would lead one things into another.

what he hadn't counted on was running into you in the basement. how your light voice would replay in his head, that teasing lilt burrowing under his thick skin and leaving him restless.

tojo shakes his head, reaching for a couple of glasses and the half-decent bottle of wine that he kept stashed away from megumi's prying hands. kid was at that age where he was too damn curious for his own good about everything. his brain, however, was still stuck in the basement, circling around you.

what the hell had you been doing there anyway? sidling up to him all close, sickeningly sweet perfume or some shit that made his jaw clench. batting long lashes at him, and teasing him about mistletoe kisses.

civility. decency. that was the bare minimum that he could give you, wasn't it?

"you've got quite the collection of, uh, things up there," his date's voice pulls him back, gesturing to the open cabinet with a polite smile. toji glances at colourful boxes of cereal, and the little plastic bowls with cartoon animals splashed all over them. megumi's favourites.

"yeah," he says gruffly, pouring the wine, "got a kid. just the one."

she nods, taking the glass he hands her, "that's sweet. how old?"

"six. he's...not here tonight."

before his date can reply, catch the insinuation that he's thrown out, another sound filters through the paper-thin walls. a giggle, a sweet laugh followed by a voice he knows all too well.

"i know, right! he was like, totally into me!"

toji freezes, the wine bottle hovering mid-pour over his second glass. he sets the bottle down with a little more force than necessary, pretending not to notice the way his date glanced toward the wall, clearly having heard you too. fantastic. as if the universe hadn't done enough to torment him today.

his teeth ground together as your voice floated through again, a singsong lilt that made his chest thump, and irritation flare all at once. what were you even talking about? who the hell was 'totally' into you?

"uh-huh," you had been laughing, your voice carrying through the wall, "and then, he asked me out!"

toji's grip tightens on his glass, wondering who on earth managed to pull you into a date. wait, why did he even care?

his date seems oblivious to the internal war raging inside of him, taking a sip of her wine and smiling, "so, what's your son's name?"

"megumi," he mutters, absently, eyes flicking through the wall like he could see through it if he squinted hard enough. ugh, what an awful thing to think. what was wrong with him? acting like freak, not able to mind his own business.

his date's laugh is soft and polite, "that's cute."

cute, yeah.

you thought it was cute too, didn't you? he remembered the way your eyes lit up when megumi toddled after you once in the hallway, clutching one of his ridiculous animal-print bowls.

"oh, what did i say?" your voice drifts again through the walls, following by a light laugh, "look, he was cute and all, but he just wasn't my type."

toji rubs a hand down his face, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. you're just his neighbour. you're entitled to have your fun, to live your own life. that doesn't mean he has to like hearing about it.

meanwhile, his date sits stiffly on the couch, politely pretending your voice isn't bleeding through the walls like a radio she can't turn off. she's doing a commendable job of feigning disinterest, but toji knows it's killing what little momentum the evening had.

he clears his throat, trying to salvage things, "so, uh, got any plans for tomorrow? something fun for christmas?" great, now he's stealing lines from you.

her smile tightens, polite but clearly wavering, "just lunch with my family. my sister's bringing her kids over."

toji nods, grasping at conversational straws, "that's nice. i've got, uh, a brother. and an annoying little cousin."

"right," and she's glancing up at the clock, her patience thinning faster than her smile.

"oh, come on," your voice pipes up again, clearer this time, "you know my type's never been those kinds of guys. i like the big, rough ones." there's a pause, and then you laugh, the sound both coy and infuriatingly knowing, "yeah, like a bit older. all muscles."

toji freezes, trying to pretend like his insides aren't doing the tango. his date, on the other hand, has clearly reached her limit. her lips purse into a tight smile as she stands, smoothing her dress, "look, you've been nice and all," she says, voice clipped, clearly cutting off the chances of a second date, "but i really should get going."

toji fushiguro doesn't argue. doesn't even try to stop her. just watches as her expensive-ass coat swings off his couch, her heels clicking toward the door and her figure vanishing down the hallway.

he slouches back on the couch, arms sprawled wide, feigning a calm that he doesn't definitely feel. in truth, he's seconds away from keeling over, his chest tight and his pulse betrays him.

"huh?" your voice filters through the paper-thin walls, questioning and laced with mirth. the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and down somewhere else, "oh, my neighbour? toji, yep, that's him!"

his head jerks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, eyes boring into the wall like he can will it to dissolve. tch, he's being such a dog. his ears are straining, sharp and unreasonably hopeful.

"yeah, he's so perfectly my type. tsk! yes, of course, i wish he'd just...yeah. anyway. but," you sigh, a dramatic exhale, "but i just don' think he's into me."

toji freezes, as heat floods his face, creeping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. there's a traitorous clench in his groin as his stomach flips in a way that's both exhilarating and completely unwelcome.

the truth — shameful and complicated as it is — is that he is very much into you. has been for months. and it's getting worse.

every time you lean into him with those wide, sparkling eyes, every time you tease him with some playful jab or brush your fingers against his arm like it’s nothing, it carves a little deeper into his self-control. you're sweet, bright, always full of questions and comments that manage to sound innocent and maddeningly suggestive all at once.

but there's a prickling shame that comes with it, too, a harsh voice in the back of his head that tells him to grow the hell up. he's a grown man, for crying out loud.

a grown man with a kid who needs him, who already has enough on his plate without the complication of a pretty little neighbour who could turn his world upside down without even trying.

what could he offer you, anyway? you, who barrels down the hall in the mornings with an oversized bag bouncing against your hip, always late for something important, always in motion.

your life is big and full and bursting with possibilities. his, by comparison, feels...worn. quiet. comfortable in a way that makes him feel ancient when he looks at you.

still, it doesn't stop toji from looking. or from thinking things he shouldn't, like how your laughter lights up even the dullest days. or sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, pulling his hard cock out to tug on it, imagining your doe-eyes peering up at him.

toji rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly into the crook of his elbow. what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

you're starting to lose precious steam. for all your big talk about not giving up and winning toji over, the spark of confidence that got you this far is starting to sputter out. the lines that you'd carefully scribbled in blue ballpoint ink, a full script of fake laughter and coy quips begins to feel...a little tragic.

half an hour of pacing your apartment and pretending to be on the phone has left you feeling deflated, and painfully self-aware. your voice has grown too practiced, too rehearsed and you're starting to wonder if you even sound convincing anymore. and for all you know, toji fushiguro didn't even hear one word of it.

he's probably in there, sprawled on his couch, having a great time with his date. maybe laughing, maybe pouring wine, or maybe he's taken her to bed. fuck, your stomach lurches as your insides flip for no good, kind reason.

you glance at the cooling grape soda on your nightstand, still fizzing lazily in its can, and suddenly feeling quite awful. disgusted with yourself for the plotting, the dramatics, and the fact that it hasn't paid off in the slightest.

with a sigh that's more frustrated and resigned, you flop back onto your bed, ignoring the slight bounce of the mattress as you land. your apartment suddenly feels too hot, the air sticky and stifling.

you kick off the blanket that's bunched around your ankles, and you lie sprawled on top of the quilt. head tilted back against the pillows as you take in the dull hum of the light fixture and the occasional creak of the pipes.

with a despondent sigh, you find yourself half-heartedly parting your legs — maybe to entertain some false fantasy instead. you could have gone out, maybe really lived a little, just as toji had suggested.

you roll down the waistband of your shorts, pulling at the soft, elastic band. just tugging them down enough so you can trail your hands over the flesh of your thighs. yeah, you were that morose right now.

perhaps, you should have accepted the invites to all those christmas parties. you could have dolled up a little, grabbed a sweet drink or two on the house, fallen into the strong arms of a stranger?

you trail your hands over thin, soft skin. nails gently grazing over your mound, as you quickly run your middle finger through your slit, already dewy and moist. you muffle a small whine, because for all your showmanship earlier, you weren't above decency. and these walls were truly that thin.

but it's hard to not buck your hips up into your own touch, working your puffy cunt open with steady fingers. one finger, and then a second, fluttering at a gentle pace. how telling that the mysterious stranger in your fantasies is suddenly far older, with hazy green eyes and charcoal hair falling over his face.

you substitute the slap of your fingers for his, pretending its a rough thumb that pulls at your clit, gently pushing the throbbing hood up to run misshapen circles over the bundle of nerves.

"hah," you try to gnaw at your lower lip, keeping your mouth shut, as you're desparate for the creak of your bed frame to not carry over into the apartment next door, "t-toji, please."

there's a faint thud from next door, like someone has just hit their head. but you can hardly register it in your own mind. shuffling whines leaving your lips, as you use your fingers to stretch out your slick, sodden walls. getting faster, and faster with each piston-like gesture to curl the pads of your fingers up. searching, keening around for that rough spot that makes you squeal.

your eyes are fluttering shut, lashes falling against your cheek as your jaw tightens, heartbeat beginning to race as you heave for air, back arching up as you use your other hand to furiously flick over your clit, building up a steady ache in your wrist that you ignore, "ah, ah, toji, r-right there, fuck, 'm close."

each press of your finger against the walls of your entrance results in a large squelch echoing through your ears, getting closer and closer to that devastating peak, all the while as hallucination-toji snickers down at you and —

"hey!"

and just like that, your long-awaited orgasm, your beautiful climax, well. she disappears with nary a goodbye. your eyes snap open, heart hammering as you blink up at the dull ceiling. your hand is yanked away from your cunt, the cool air suddenly hitting the slick that's coating your fingers. your mind stutters, scrambling for clarity as an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

"hey! c'mon, doll. don't have all day."

toji. toji fushiguro. oh, shit.

the panic rises quickly, what are your options? dive out the window and hope that you land on your feet? or fake an illness so convincing that you convince him that's contagious so he leaves? you consider it for a moment, but something else takes over. far more brave, or just reckless and lust-addled. you pull yourself upright, tugging your shorts back up. you shift your sheets, making sure that the dark, translucent patch is covered.

you pad towards the door with the air of a man marked for execution. when you swing it open, you're met with a red-faced toji. is he flushed?

you drop any cute pretense, and instead, lock your petulant gaze on his chest, straight up with the no eye-contact rule. it gives you a real, shameless good look at those heavenly sculpted pecs.

"what do you want?" you ask, voice as flat as you can possibly manage. but you're keenly aware of that mirror-gloss still coating your hands, and you wonder if its too obvious to scrunch your fingers in your sweatshirt. gross, someone get you out of here. the misery of your own making.

toji stands there, entirely dumbounded, and you notice the flush creeping up the peachy tan of his neck, a shade deeper than usual, "what do i want? what do you want?" he says, his voice rock-rasp.

you swallow thickly, ignoring the addled scent of leather, musk and something far more faintly addictive, "i have no idea what you mean."

toji huffs, obviously amused, before mimicking your voice with exaggerated sweetness, "oh, toji, please. right there, toji." he's mocking you, and your skin burns with the recent memory of that exact tone.

you consider for a split second if you can just hand him your lease tomorrow morning and call it quits. but then, toji continues, "y'know these walls are thin, right?"

you cross your arms, trying to steady yourself, ignoring how your poor cunt clenches with the faint memory of her ruined orgasm, "really? i had no idea."

toji mirrors your actions, his arms folding, but the effect only pushes his pecs up, and you try not to get distracted. but it's hard, very hard, "don't get all smart with me now. been hearing you giggle all evenin' and being all slutty."

"thought you had a date," you mutter, the act of playing pretend has long since passed and you're too far gone now to pretend. you scowl up at toji, meeting his gaze head-on, feeling your heart race as his eyes narrow and his pink lips part slightly. you can almost feel the urgent heat of his gaze dragging over your hand, your damp fingertips.

"how'd you know about my date? suddenly real concerned for me?" toji tilts his head, voice laced with infuriating amusement, and you fight the urge to lash out, to throw yourself into him and kiss him fuckin' stupid. instead, you dig in your heels, staying put.

"no, i'm not concerned," you stutter, floundering for a reason, "i'm just, well —"

"who asked you out?" toji cuts through your flickering thoughts, an undercurrent of something sharper in his tone.

"huh?"

"who was it? the one who isn't your type?" toji fushiguro says this all so casually, making your stomach flip. so he had been listening, he heard every word of you flouncing around your room.

you swallow hard, ignoring the sudden fluttering in your chest, "why? you jealous?" the words spill out before you can stop them, you raise an eyebrow, feeling a small victory in the way his priggish expression falters just slightly, "just go back to your date, fushiguro."

"gettin' real bold now," he murmurs, and you realise just how close the two of you are. how you can feel his body heart radiating off him. the tension between you is suffocating to say the last, and you can't decide if you want him to step back or push closer. he doesn't give you a chance to answer.

"thanks to your pretty antics, she sent herself packin', and now i'm all on my lonesome."

"how sad for you," and you suddenly curl your lip, "get a vibrator."

toji's maw drops open for a split second, before he shakes his head, "you first. don't know how you were doing all that without one," and he nods to your hand, "and because i wasn't hearin' much else."

something bold and red-hot comes over you, egged on by the damp sticking to your thighs, "want a visual demonstration?"

you barely have time to form a coherent thought before toji moves, a low growl rumbling in his barrel-like chest as he surges forward. his hands, large and calloused and warm, cup your face with surprising gentleness, though the intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. then, his lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting. the faint scrape of the scar cutting across his mouth sending a shiver through you.

it's not careful, it's testing and tasting. as if he's waiting for you to push him away. but oh, you're not going anywhere. not when his kiss is setting your nerves alight, and sending your heart into a dizzying free fall. merry christmas to you, indeed.

you respond in kind, just as desperate, your hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. the solid, hefty weight of toji beneath your fingers grounds you, even as the world tilts on its axis.

"ohh, look at you," toji all but purrs, pawing his hands over your back, your waist, settling over your hips as he pushes you further into your apartment. a strong arm stretching out to slam the door closed, tugging you further in. it seems he's too needy to even reach the bed, and you whine as you're shoved with your back to the wall. his hand coming up to make sure you don't quite slam in with too much force.

toji's lips are practically meshed to your own, and he's already pulling at the waistband of your shorts again. just as you were doing earlier, and you shudder, feeling thick fingers run along your hips.

"s-shit," toji gasps, "if ya' don't want me to —"

you groan, "no, n-no. want you," your voice quivers suddenly as warm fingers press into your soaked cunt. finding home right among your weeping slit. you don't even see where your shorts have been thrown, instead focusing on toji's hazy eyes flickering when they see that you've been wearing nothing underneath. all damn evening.

you don't think you've ever seen the man so dishevelled, heaving for air, as he tries to come to terms with all this, "so when you were in that basement, jus' tryna tease me? is that what you wanted?"

you can't help but laugh, but it's quickly cut off when toji's pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of your clit, it's so feather light and oddly gentle for the gruff man, and it has you keening over.

"that's it, gon' have you all in my mouth. gonna drink ya' up, it's what you wanted, right?" he uses two fingers to press right up against your entrance, parting your oozing folds so he can narrow his eyes at how ready you are for him, "gonna put this all in a cup, and drink it."

"t-toji!" you whine out, feeling your head go all light, and weightless, watching toji play with your core. seeing the older man gape at how you're soaking divots into his fingers, seeing emerald eyes darken with a carnal need to taste you. right now.

"stay still, doll. yeah, just for a sec," toji's hands tighten around your thighs, smacking a fat glob of spit over your trembling core, letting his index finger run the fluid up and down your pussy, a ragged laugh running raw from his smart mouth, "had no idea you were like this, been burying your pretty fingers in your cunt for me before, right?"

you need to get a hit of your own in, before toji fushiguro turns your mind to mush, "you been fisting around your cock for me, then too? bet it super hard when — fuck!"

your words are cut off by the flat pads of his fingertips coming down to deliver a jolt to your throbbing clit, slapping wet arousal around as toji almost glares up at you, but it's softened by lazy fondness.

"watch ya' mouth, doll. 'm wanting to go easy on you tonight."

he's delving straight into your cunt, like a man starved and searching for salvation between your thighs. you feel your mind go blank, that ruined orgasm of the past hour practically gaining a life of her own and cheering once more, coming back to you in embarrassing, full force as it barely takes a few, quick munches of toji's tongue around your sweet pussy.

that's all you need before you're quickly seeing flashing stars, and doing your best to hide the tremble in your thighs. but toji's having none of that.

his laugh is low, mocking and so ruined, "tchh, i really did interrupt ya' didn't i? must have been so close on that bed," but he's not stopping, practically speaking into your stimulated cunt, punctuating his words with buttery kisses, "must have caught ya' on the very edge for her to so ready for me."

"shut u-up."

"your wish? my command," toji snickers, letting your slick, running juices gather over his chin, "and you taste so good. she's a sweet thing, right," and you realise that he's not talking about you, but rather, about your weeping, glossy cunt that's shoved against his sharp nose. you've got the man practically pussydrunk already, and he's hardly gotten a good feel for it.

his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, tapping it, "now 'm gonna need you to move that, yeah, that's right," you're slotting it over his broad shoulders, and it pulls him closer. and at this point, you don't even care for how you should be embarrassed, should be feeling some shame at having this rugged, older man salivating into your cunt. but there's a shocking glee instead, a quiet victory that's bubbling in your abdomen and already demanding an encore.

his tongue darts out again, this time he's prodding the muscle at your entrance, feeling for that slight resistance made weaker by your fingers earlier, all on your own. the very tip of his tongue in you has you whining again, slapping a hand over your lolling mouth.

"move that hand," toji grunts, punctuating each word with a flick to your clit.

"i c-can't," you gasp, hands finding a home in his clingy, dark strands, "people are gonna hear-ahhh," he's practically mouthing himself onto your pussy, slick strands separating from his lips each time he pulled away for air. the stimulation is making you so much more sensitive, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to sting so deliciously.

you pull fingers through ink-black hair, delicate threads that are soft to the touch and feather-light, "h-here, toji," you curl your fingers to angle him perfectly just so, and the burly man is letting you use him, letting you drag his mouth over your slippery folds. just so you can get him to flick his tongue over that spot that makes you cry out so perfectly.

and toji thinks he's never seen a greater sight. he feels a dizzy, heaving tightness in his jeans, that ache building in his groin like he's about to bust his load just from having you fall apart so prettily on his tongue. he ups the pace, making sure to nimbly etch patterns over your heated, swollen clit. he had you right where he wanted you, needed you, and he'd be damned before he'd left you high and dry.

"y'know, 'm thinking about to see this pretty pussy cum again," and toji sounds so proud, taking gratified in the fact that after only one taste, he's already attuned to the signs of your climax. the way your eyes roll back in your head, tears pricking at your eyes in a way that makes his cock ache even harder.

you're unabashed now, rolling your hips into him at a messy pace. letting spikes of white-hot and red-searing pleasure curl up in your abdomen, ready to burst. the entirety of his lower chin is coated in sweet slick, glistening his rough scar, with a clear drop just beading at his lip.

"i-i think 'm gonna, toji, toji - feels s-so —"

toji's mocking you, pitching his raspy voice up again to capture your tone, "oh yeah? 'm gonna, what? what are ya' gonna do? gonna cum, because that's what i'm here for, doll."

he's making a mess now, switching between a cool, short puff of air at your throbbing clit, and letting his tongue push into your gummy walls, unending pleasure until —

"aaand, cum. now, doll."

it bursts within you, swiftly and briskly. so intense that the edges of your visions become clouded with dark spots, a hazy vignette of sheer pleasure from toji's mouth running all over the filthy mess you've created. the gushing climax that must be soaking the scuffed, dark floorboards beneath toji's bent knees.

you don't even realise that you're still babbling his name, entirely lost in the daze of your second orgasm of the night. little cries of toji, like a prayer over and over, mantras that are making toji grin with his gleaming lips underneath you. all as he wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you with brute strength. all the while not separating himself from your oversensitive cunt, petting soft kisses over your inner thighs, "gorgeous thing, aren'tcha? think ya' give me another one?"

you groggily lift your head as he sets you down on the bed, caging you beneath his considerable frame, "why? don't wanna, uh, stuff my stocking tonight?"

toji's green eyes flicker with mirth, amusement, only punctuated by him rolling them back in faux-disgust, "still runnin' that clever mouth, hah."

you squirm as he pushes his rough hands under your sweatshirt, letting both hands cup your breasts, pinching and twirling fingertips over your nipples, "are you a, mmph, a candy cane, toji?"

he doesn't break his concentration from where he's peeling your top off, "what nasty shit are ya' gonna say now?"

you giggle as he brushes past a particularly ticklish spot, "because i think you're s-sweet, and i wanna suck you."

"fuck."

in the blink of an eye, he's got you perched over on your knees, just as he hovers you. waistband pulled down enough to reveal black boxers, close enough that you could stick your chin out and press a soft kiss to the darkened patch of pre-cum that must be driving toji crazy.

and well, it's big. like it's jingle bells, jingle balls type of big. you drag your eyes from soft, curled black hair at the base of his groin and down an angry, thick red shaft that makes you clench your thighs.

"wan' me to slide over your chimney?"

that gifts you a barked, punched laugh out of the man — toji's got a large hand wrapped around his cock, "c'mon, doll. put that smart mouth to good use then," inching it closer to your lips in silent permission. you part your lips, anticipating the savoury pre that coats your tongue, the translucent fluid dripping from your mouth already.

he's thumbing down on your lower lip, easing the red mushroom tip into your waiting, eager mouth, "hah, think ya' were meant to take me. how's...how's this slutty mouth so perfect?" toji sounds ruined, all rock-salt rasp and his pink lips fall open, and a flush is painted over his tan skin.

you've never been one to give up, ready to angle your head lower, eager to take as much of him as possible into your mouth. but it's a hard stretch, as crystalline tears cling to your lashes, from the tight wrap of the back of your mouth around his throbbing cock.

toji's got his hand wrapped in your hair now, and you can tell that he's trying to be gentle with the strands as he angles your head lower, purring as you take him so well, "f-fuck, a perfect tease, yeah? fuckin' amazing," and you know he's telling the truth, for his cock is practically twitching with a life of its own in your mouth.

you've got this man hazy and drunk, just from sucking you off, and the realisation makes you whine all over again. reaching a hand down in between your thighs to rock up against your clit, all at the same steady pace.

and you know that toji is close, for those sculpted thighs of pure muscle tremble now, the powerful cords quivering as he bucks his hips, fucking your mouth in long, steady strokes. you also realise that you want him to cum, just like this, to have thick white fall from your lips to really seal and sweeten the deal.

but suddenly, you're left popping your lips shut, as toji groans, genuinely groans and shudders, pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet slop!

"don' give me that look, doll," toji chuckles, his chest heaving underneath the sculpted outline of his dark shirt, "can stuff ya' mouth with my cock later, if that's what you want. but 'm really gonna lose it if i'm not in her right now," and he's angling you back to give a loving, gentle pat to your glistening cunt.

rough, calloused hands slide across your bare back with an unexpected gentleness, against the soft curve of your spine as toji presses you into the mattress, so your head is finally resting back against the pillow.

toji's enjoying this, you know that, just from how he's taking your times to pull your thighs apart, sucking in a harsh breath at how your sleek entrance practically winks at him. tugging his hands roughly on his rock-hard cock, all so he can run the fat tip over your clit, making you mewl.

"don't t-tease, toji," you sniffle, feeling the searing tip push up against your clitoral hood, that nerves so stimulated that you're bucking up into him, wanting toji to just put the damn thing in already.

"fuck, doll," toji's taking a small mercy on you, pressing the first inch into your cunt, "i don't 'm the tease here, god knows how long you were jus' jacking off on the other side of the wall. hopin' that i'd come and stuff you like this?"

each inch that's bullying itself into making your head spin, making you wrap arms around his thick neck, just as he presses a soft kiss to the crook of your collarbone, "ya' good, doll? 's not too much for your, hnngh, tight lil' cunt, is it?"

you mewl as he bottoms out, and the stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's so deliciously big within you, scraping at the inside of your walls, "wan' be on top, toji."

"oh, yeah? lucky that i like ya' this much, givin' me orders and bossin' me around," toji huffs, using thick arms to pull you up instead, flipping you around so he's got you straddling his thighs, split apart so perfectly around his gliding cock.

"mmph, 's much deeper like this, toji," you chase after his lips, running your tongue over the taut, rigid scar that cuts over the right side of his mouth, all while he starts to set a maddening pace, bouncing you like a pretty toy over his cock, swabbing your insides with buttery wads of pre-cum, all sticky and loud in the silence of the night.

"lookin' good, doll," toji's grin can only be described as shark-like, and he's clearly pleased by the echoing squelches from the filthy mess that's dolloped between your groins, the smack of your ass against your thighs, tacky strands sticking to skin.

your chest is pressed against his shirt, and he's so enjoying the view. loves seeing how the swell bounces and hypnotises him, fuck, toji wonders how he's gonna go about the rest of his life away from you and your perfect pussy.

your eyes widen as you glance back, swivelling your head over your shoulder to watch the smacking movement of you against him, at how his thighs hold you up with a steady rhythm, "you're f-fuckin' me really well, toji," and god, he thinks he might just lose it all, then and there. the praise from your dewy lips is rushing straight into his cock, turning his mind to mush as he finds himself on some sort of autopilot.

he needs to cum in you, right now, needs to feel you milk him for all he can give. to stuff your syrupy cunt with mounds of weeping inches, and he's picking up the pace. smacking heavy, laden balls against your skin, so you whine and keen into him.

you're so caught up in the pleasure that you don't even realise toji had said something, words snapping around his teeth as he bounces you over and over, making sure that you ride him good, "w-what?"

"a date, doll," toji groans, smacking your hand away from your clit, just so he can toy with it, faster and faster, "lemme take ya' out properly, what'd ya' say to that, huh?"

"wanna take me o-out?" you all but weep over him, spearheaded on his tip, and raking sharp nails over iron abs, all underneath his tight top, "please, please, t-toji, wanna go out with you! and then," you hiss as he angles himself just right, curved sheath kissing that perfect g-spot deep within you, "and then i wanna do t-this all over again."

it makes toji's hips stutter, "yeah? pretty girl wants me to take her out, parade her around t-town, hah, i can do that. i can do all of that," he's gasping, feeling your tight heat snatch the life out of him. each girthy vein rubbing itself against your tacky cunt, "i can do all of that, and more. jus' lemme show ya', i'll spoil ya' for anyone else. those d-dumb college boys."

and you look at him with such gorgeous, pretty eyes that toji wonders how on earth he's gonna function now, with you so supplanted in his life. on his cock, even. he can taste something faintly sweet and artificial on your tongue, like tangy grape as he sucks on the muscle.

"never wanted a-any of them anyway, jus' you, toji. only you."

toji fushiguro loses his mind, he's cumming and his own orgasm is hitting him so hard that, in the back of his mind, he's concerned at how he's just filling you up. sloppy thrusts slowing down as thick, white translucent spurts paint your insides, right up to where he can see the divot of his tip through your abdomen. where you've taken in him so deep.

"s-shit," toji presses his mouth to yours again, harder, "look what ya' doin' to me, ruining me," and he also feels just a little bad for ruining your sheets, right as your own umpteenth climax for the night hits you, glossy and clear over the black tufts of hair. your pretty mouth pulled open in a wordless cry of his name, but toji doesn't let go. he lets you ride it out, that sticky mess becoming an afterthought for later.

in the hazy glow, toji's eyes wander over the mess of your room. but something else catches his attention, wads of paper flattened by an empty can of soda. he tilts his head, hair falling over his forehead, dampened by sweat. reaching for the paper with his curiosity piqued.

before he can fully read the words, you're suddenly pawing at his arm, practically leaping into him to get in the way, "wait, toji, don't! hey, that's private!" your voice is an odd mix of urgency and embarrassment, nothing like the angelic whimpers from a few minutes ago. you're swatting at his thick hand, trying to grasp at his fingers.

ignoring your protests and squirms, he crumples the paper open and reads the bold, hastily scrawled letters: how to get toji fushiguro in bed.

damn. so you had been responsible for that heater, the staircase, a fake phone call. he always did like them a bit cuckoo-bananas.

toji chuckles darkly, glancing up at you, barely able to suppress a grin. you're flushed, looking like you'd rather disappear into the floor, oddly shy despite the fact that you were so bold, and a minx riding him earlier to hell and back.

"look, i can explain. don't be mad, because i swear —"

toji groans, shifting you slightly in his lap, "mad? doll, 'm hard all over again. how'd you want it this time?"

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #daphworks

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jakesangel · 7 months ago

Text

making out w jake

tw// making out, flirting, it's nothing bad really, suggestive

making out with jake occurs lots of time. every single time actually. each time you see jake, he will want to have you and if time offers, he would have a make our session with him. and as he has different side as a lover, there is different kind of make outs w him.

the best way for him the wake up, is the feel your kisses on his face. the warmth of your hand on the side of his cheek, your soft breath fanning on his face. he would hum as he wakes up, grinning stupidly, mornin' my angel, he'd say, slowly opening his eyes. and as you finally kiss him on his lips, he wouldn't let you go, his hand going in the back of your head, deepening the kiss. you guys would stay under the blanket, you half way on top of him, lazyly kissing for minutes until one of you can't breath. i couldt dream of another way to wake up, baby, he would say, before diving in again. you will feel his smile between the kisses, or even so his humms as his mind n body feels very good at the moment. to be more comfortable, he would move you, so you can face him, you on the side, and pull you closer by your waist. humm my pretty girl, he'd say between sights, i love you so munch. so so munch, as he'd admire your natural beauty. my pretty pretty pretty girl, as he starts kissing you again, smiles shared from the both of you.

playful makeouts also exist w jake. in fact jakes loves to annoy you in a fun way by tickling you. the both of you would run around the apartment, you running from him, him trying to reach you and as you'd fall on the floor, himon you, your pretty smiley face wouldn't go unnoticed to him. he would kiss you, right there n then, forgetting about your playful fight few seconds ago. he would peck your whole face, making the both of you giggles, filling his heart w nothing but pure hapiness.

it would also happen when watching a movie, your legs on his lap, his hands strocking them : you are often, always, a distraction to him. your soft skin under his finger tips, your warmth n weight on his lap, your scent as your arms are around his neck. all his sense are invaded by you but it's not enough for him. he wants more n that boring movie is doing the exact opposite of what he needs : your attention. and he will take it : his hands would slowly travel your legs, hinting you if his boredom. angel, could you sit on my lap for me, he'd say as he would help you to face him n not the tv, you know you really hypnotizing. you're really so pretty, my love. he wouldn't let you do a thing, talking you thru it, his hands on your things slowing coming to your waist, pulling you closer to him, his eyes right on yours. my pretty pretty girl, sitting so prettily just for me, he would finally said, kissing you roughly. making out w him when he is needy do you, would never start slow, passionate kisses shared almost fighting for dominance, so pretty, he'd murmur against your lips, looking so pretty in front of me how do you expect me to stay put. it's also during those kind of kisses that he would dive his tongue between your lips, after bitting your bottom lip. he wants everything you could give him and even more, what he can take from you. and as his tongue n lips can't be controled, so is his hands, place on your lower back or your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him, almost you falling down on him. he would be so into it, only the tv can remind you that life exist n that the both of you can't stay kissing all night all, pulling a laugh from him. he'd pull back, his eyes almost full of lust, let's take that to the bedroom, m'okay baby ?

before going to bed, jake enjoys slow make outs the most, ending the day together, in each other embrace. even if he can sleep well on his own, and further more sleeping early, he enjoys staying up until you finish your routine, waiting to have his nightly kisses, making his sleep better. so he would take it as slow as possible, enjoying and tasting you the most that he can. i never want you out of my life baby. love you so much baby, he would whisper in the dark. as his sleeps would take over, he'd be the on ending the kisses as much as it hurts him, so he would place one last peck on your lip, smiling thru it, still thanking you for your existence next to him and then pulls your head closer to his chest, good night baby, i can no wait to wake up w you in my arms again.

notes : i need him so bad >____<

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @txnwvc @iikeustar @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey

#jake sim #jake soft hours #enhablr #sim jaeyun #sim jake #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #jake x y/n #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake fluff #jake x reader #jake headcanons #enhypen jake fluff #jaeyun imagines #jake smut #enha fluff #enhypen fluff

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storiesforallfandoms · 8 months ago

Text

moved on ~ thomas shelby;peaky blinders

word count: 2213

request?: no

description: in which his ex comes back after two years, and his fiancée is worried about what this means for their engagement

pairing: thomas shelby x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Tommy didn't expect to fall in love after Grace had ran off. He had loved her more than he loved anyone, and he thought he'd never find that love again.

Until he met (Y/N).

They met at an event Tommy had to attend. He only went to make an appearance, and was looking for a way to leave when he spotted her. Right away, he was taken by her. He spent the rest of the night talking to her, and even drove her home at the end of the night.

Within two months, Tommy had proposed. He couldn't risk losing this one. She made him feel even better than he had with Grace. (Y/N) was the one, he was sure of it. So, he asked her to marry him, and he was beyond ecstatic when she said yes.

Everything was perfect, until the day Tommy took (Y/N) to the races.

It was a scorching hot day in Birmingham. Tommy and his brothers were set to go to the races, and obviously he had asked (Y/N) to come with them. She was wearing a summer dress that Tommy had bought for her and, as he had predicted, she looked breathtaking in it. He couldn't keep his eyes - or his hands - off of her.

"You're going to cause a scandal," (Y/N) teased as Tommy's hand made its way under her dress again.

"No one's looking, love," Tommy assured her, moving her hair from her shoulder so he could start kissing her neck.

(Y/N) fought the pleasure his actions were giving her to push him away. As good as Tommy made her feel, she was no going to let him have his way with her in public.

"Can you get me something to drink?" she asked. "I'm parched, and quite hot."

"Of course, darling."

Tommy gave her a quick peck before going to find a concessions stand.

He was waiting for their drinks when a familiar voice said, "Tommy?"

He thought he imagined it, but he realized that couldn't be it. He hadn't even thought of her in years. There's no way he would suddenly be imagining her again. So, he allowed himself to turn, and there she was.

Grace.

Just as beautiful as the day she left him.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said.

"I didn't expect to see you anywhere," Tommy responded. "I thought you fell off the face of the Earth. Since I never heard from you and all."

A flash of guilt showed on Grace's face. It made Tommy happy to know she felt guilty for what she did.

"I can't apologize enough - "

"No, you can't," Tommy said. He was finally given his drinks. He took them and began to walk away from her.

"Wait!" She took hold of his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Please, let me explain. I'll tell you everything."

Tommy looked down at her hand. It was hard to miss the diamond ring on her ring finger.

"Will your husband be okay with that?"

She seemed to bristle a little at the comment, but she managed to keep her composure. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind me catching up with an old friend."

Tommy held his tongue from correcting her. He wanted to know the truth about what happened with Grace. Even if that's all their meeting was - which it would be - then it could at least be some closure for him. He agreed to Grace's proposal, but only under the condition that she meet him at the Garrison. He needed to have some sort of control in this situation.

It was only as Tommy was walking back to his seat that he realized he hadn't told Grace he was engaged. In fact, he had completely forgotten about (Y/N) for those few moments.

She was still in her seat wen he got back, eagerly watching the current race. The moment he laid his eyes on her, Tommy felt his heart swell. He realized that he felt nothing but contempt for Grace. He wasn't eager for their meeting at the Garrison as he would've been nearly two years ago. It was nothing more than a business meeting to him now, because his heart belonged to one woman.

(Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. "You've been gone for some time. Did you get lost?"

He smiled back. Instead of responding, he sat with her and kissed her cheek. (Y/N) giggled and leaned into him.

Tommy thought about telling (Y/N) about Grace, but he wasn't sure how to. He didn't want her to get upset over Grace's appearance, and their agreement of a private meeting, but he knew there was no way to bring it up without (Y/N) getting upset. He couldn't blame her either. If the roles were reversed and one of (Y/N)'s exes were trying to reconnect with her...well, that person wouldn't be around much longer.

(Y/N) looked up at Tommy and nudged him. "Are you alright? You look deep in thought."

"I saw Grace," he blurted.

"Grace? Like...the Grace?" Tommy nodded. "When? Just then?" He nodded again. "Oh, wow. What did she say?"

"She asked if we could meet up to talk about her leaving."

"What did you say?"

"I told her we could meet at the Garrison."

(Y/N) nodded, her face unreadable. "When?"

"Tomorrow night."

"And...did you tell her about me?"

Tommy was silent. He couldn't lie to her, and his silence was enough of an answer. She turned away from him to focus on the race again. She felt so many emotions that she couldn't even place them. She knew Tommy loved her, and she knew he was loyal, but she was also aware of Tommy and Grace's past. He told her everything about their relationship when they first got together. So she knew how intense Tommy and Grace's relationship had been, and how broken he was when she left.

Tommy reached over and put his hand on her leg. "Love, look at me."

(Y/N) reluctantly turned to face her fiance.

"I will call the meeting off if it makes you uncomfortable," he said. "Or you can come and be there when it happens."

She shook her head. "No, I think that will likely make it more awkward."

Tommy cupped her face. "Do you trust me?"

"My mind is screaming that I shouldn't, but my heart says I do." She chuckled and added, "That sounded so cheesy."

"It did," Tommy agreed. He pulled her towards him to place a kiss on her lips. "I promise this is nothing more than a meeting to get some closure. Any love I felt for Grace disappeared when she did. You are the only woman who has my heart, and that will never change."

(Y/N) smiled and leaned into Tommy. "I believe you. Just...tell her about me the moment she shows up, okay?"

"I will, love."

~~~~~~

The next night, (Y/N) was pacing her and Tommy's shared living room. Tommy had left for his meeting with Grace moments ago. He had kissed her and told her he wouldn't be long, and she had smiled at him but didn't speak. Once he was gone, she had stood and immediately began to walk around the house. Her nerves were making it impossible to be still.

She told Tommy she had trusted him, and that wasn't a lie, but she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of unease and jealousy. It was a cliche to say, but it was Grace she didn't trust. She didn't know Grace besides what Tommy had told her about their previous relationship, and the fact that Grace was now married. But would that be enough to stop Grace from wanting to make a move on Tommy? Would Tommy's engagement be enough?

Her mind would not rest. She was starting to regret telling Tommy she wasn't going to accompany him to the meeting. Even if it would've been awkward, at least her mind would've been at ease.

Before she could register what she was doing, (Y/N) was pulling on a coat and heading out the door. She started walking towards the Garrison. She knew it was a bad idea to just drop in on Tommy and Grace's meeting, but the not knowing was killing her. She couldn't just stay home and wait for Tommy to come back.

It was a slow night at the pub. There were a few men sat along the bar, and three men sat around one table. Harry was wiping down some glassware at the bar when (Y/N) walked in. He regarded her and nodded towards the private room that the Shelby's frequented, signaling that Tommy was still in there. (Y/N) walked towards the room, intending to knock before entering, until she heard a woman's voice on the other side.

"I never meant to hurt you, Tommy. I know I betrayed you, and nothing can ever change that. But you have to know that I did love you - that I do love you. I left Birmingham because I knew it would be better for you if I did, but I never stopped thinking about you."

"What about your husband?" came Tommy's voice.

"I love him, but I'm not in love with him. He has been a marriage of convenience more than anything. He was there, and he had a good job and a good life, and I hadn't hurt him."

There was silence. (Y/N) could only imagine what was happening on the other side of the door. She hadn't missed Grace admitting to still being in love with Tommy, and even if it seemed Tommy had. Or maybe was just ignoring the fact that she said it.

Or maybe he was happy to hear it?

"I've missed you so much, Tommy," came Grace's voice, soft. "I've thought about you every day since I left. I've been hoping for a day where I could see you again, just one more time, and as for you to give me another chance."

(Y/N) could feel her heart breaking. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she backed away from the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Harry looking at her. She wouldn't look directly at him, but she could make out the look of pity on his face. He must've known what was happening in that room, or had some idea anyways.

She was about to leave when she heard Tommy say, "Any chances you had left when you did, Grace."

(Y/N)'s ears perked back up as she moved back towards the door.

"I loved you once, Grace. If you had come back, even after admitting to me your betrayal, I might've taken you back. But I've moved on now. I have found a woman that I love more than anything in this world, and who loves me just as much. There is nothing and no one in this world who could convince me to leave (Y/N), not even you."

There was a silence on the other side. It wasn't until the knob started to turn on the door that (Y/N) realized Grace was leaving. She quickly stumbled away from the door just before it swung open and hit her. She was stood frozen as she looked at Grace - beautiful, blonde, elegant Grace, stood in a crimson red dress and her hair curled. Grace seemed just as shocked to see someone standing on the other side, but swiftly moved around (Y/N) to exit the pub as quickly as possible.

Tommy was sat at the table with a lit cigarette to his mouth. He didn't look surprised to see (Y/N). He took a long drag and blew it out of the corner of his mouth, before motioning with his fingers for (Y/N) to join him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to - "

"How much of it did you hear?" he asked.

"Well, I arrived sometime before her love confession."

"Which one?"

(Y/N) felt an angry heat rise in her face. "There were multiple?"

"There was two. Three, if you count her asking for another chance at the end there."

"Well, in that case I arrived before the second one."

Tommy reached out for his fiancée, gently touching her arm and pulling her to sit next to him.

"So you heard what I said to her, then?" he asked. (Y/N) nodded. "And you know I meant every word."

"Of course I do," she said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just shown up like this. I just couldn't settle down at home while I waited for you. I needed to be here."

"I did offer for you to sit in on the meeting." His tone was light and there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. That's how (Y/N) knew he wasn't being serious, or that he wasn't upset about her appearance.

"I know. I should've taken you up on that," she said. She leaned close to Tommy and kissed his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too, darling. Don't ever think that I don't."

"I won't. I promise."

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #one shot #imagine

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cutieln4 · 4 months ago

Text

Hot Laps | LN4 smau

lando norris x reader

summary: lando takes an actress on a hot lap. they immediately have chemistry.

fc: marsai martin, pinterest girls

a/n: GUYS IM SORRY!!!! college is kicking my ass and my friends are being fake so i'm sorry it's been a while my motivation has kinda been down :( also sorry it's short

yourusername

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yourusername new movie coming out soon!!! go watch it!!

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username1 I CAN'T WAIT OMGGGG

zendaya gorgeous as always

yourusername love u girl🫶

username2 YOU ARE GLOWING

username3 looked at myself and sighed

username4 i'm sat

username5 mother is mothering

username6 IM SO EXCITED

username7 face card never declines

yourusername added to their story

caption: GUESS WHOS GOING TO THE MIAMI GP!!!

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username1 OMG I HOPE I SEE YOU

username2 lock your doors

username3 ugh more celebrities that know nothing about f1 getting invited🙄

mclaren We're excited to have you!

Liked by landonorris, yourusername, and others

f1 Lando Norris takes actress Y/n Y/l/n on a hot lap! Watch the full video here

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username1 holy crap

username2 no longer lando norizz😭

yourusername i was only a little bit scared!

landonorris just a bit?

username3 ok so now i need them to date

username4 how was lando able to focus while she looked at him like that?? i would fold immediately

username5 they were both so quick with their responses like the chemistry is insane

username6 idk who i'm jealous of more

username7 it felt like i was interrupting something

username8 she's so beautiful

username9 it was all too much for little lando norris

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and others

landonorris WOOOO P1!!!! Thanks for being my good luck charm, @.yourusername you'll have to come to races more often😉

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username1 HELLLOOOO????

danielricciardo they grow up so fast🥹

username2 what happened to shame?

yourusername of course! you'll just have to invite me :)

landonorris see you soon!

username3 OMG???

oscarpiastri Good job mate!

username4 IM SO HAPPY I CRIED

username5 lando norris is a grand prix winner🥳

username6 i'm still smiling

username7 congrats but the caption is crazy, rizz unmatched

yourusername

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yourusername thank you again mclaren for the invite, i think papaya is my color! and i even got to see some cute boy win!

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username1 "some cute boy" yeah okay

username2 i love the online flirting now kiss pls

landonorris you definitely belong in papaya🧡

yourusername oh yeah?

username3 LANDOS COMMENT BYE

username4 oh to be able to flirt with lando norris

username5 okay but why is no one talking about how STUNNING she is

landonorris i'm talking about it

username5 OMG

username6 when will it be my turn😣

username7 new wag PLEASE

username8 they NEED to date or else i will be upset

landonorris

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landonorris nice little break😊

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username1 WHAT

username2 wait...but y/n posted a few days ago and she was shooting a movie, so who is this???

username3 streets are saying this isn't y/n😔

yourusername looks fun, invite me next time!

username4 oh so it wasn't her

username5 i am a child of divorce

username6 WDYM THATS NOT Y/N??

username7 but they would literally be the IT couple

username8 fr, the chemistry was unmatched

username9 guys what if she's just saying that to throw us off?

username10 okay but she is literally filming for a movie she can't just go on vacation

yourusername just added to their story

Caption: who's this cutie?

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username1 YES MY PARENTS HAVE REUNITED

landonorris hmm i don't know, you should ask him🤔

username2 is his gf ok with you calling him cute??? homewrecker

username3 interesting...

username4 THE HEART IM CRYING

username5 yall are so perfect

yourusername

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yourusername fun weekend😚

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username1 WHITE BOY SPOTTED

username2 dare i say it...is that lando

username3 he already has a gf

username4 you know who's eyes look like that?🤭

username5 bruh there's billions of people in this world it could be anyone

username6 hold on im trying to spell gorjus

username7 interesting...

landonorris

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landonorris fuck a soft launch

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username1 OMG I KNEW IT

yourusername LANDO WHAT ABOUT OUR PLAN??

landonorris sorry🤷‍♂️

yourusername ur lucky i love you

username2 YALL TRICKED US WTF

username3 bout time omfg

maxfewtrell Congrats, mate!

username4 yayy!! sleeping on the highway tonight🤗

username5 power couple fr

username6 quick everyone act surprised!

yourusername

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yourusername yes it was me all along

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username1 MY PARENTS IM SO HAPPY

username2 dare i say the hottest couple ever??

landonorris my sweetheart🧡

username3 when will it be my turn😫

username4 HOLY SHIT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

username5 i want what they have

taglist: @evasmlp @partnerincrime0 @r0nnsblog @raizelchrysanderoctavius @daniiiboo @wisestarfishbouquet @noodleysalad @thatgirlwholikescars @jxnellat @blakebearsblog @angelluv444 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @etterdotexe @scopeiguess @noope306 @burning8wood @styl1shl1v @venusandstardust @daniellef89x @nzygftoji @laheykol06 @blodwyn4u @allthings-fandoms @woozarts @astroniii @lilorose25 @dejavuontrack @xxx-betty @wobblymug @m3ntally-unstable @armystay89 @sarakay-gvf @kar1nsworldx @velentine @rexit-mo @blodwyn4u @lammys-thinking @sam02009 @kaorisakamotofan @taylorsvogue13 @loveparkersblog @delicatetrashtree @hashmiya @noodleboyluke @heavy-vettel @ilivbullyingjeongin @theblueblub @bloodyymaryyy @stressed-cherry @da-writer

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jq37 · 3 months ago

Text

Aelwyn is sixteen and preparing for midterms at Hudol. Uniform pressed and starched, head full of incantations and spell components. She doesn't mean to bump into Adaine and get orange juice all over her shirt but today isn't the day she's going to start showing weakness.

"You know, you really should watch we're you're going," she says archly, playing off the clumsy mistake as a purposeful jab.

Playing it off a bit too well because, the next thing she knows, Adaine is flipping her off and a bolt of queasy looking, green energy is coming towards her. Ray of Sickness. And she can't spare the spell slot for Counterspell because she needs it for her exams.

"You little bitch!" Aelwyn says once she's emptied the contents of her stomach down the front of her shirt.

"Good luck with your exams," Adaine says sweetly.

Aelwyn is eighteen and the oldest, mangiest cat she's ever seen in her life has just vomited on her shoes.

"My," she says, casting a shield spell around her ankles to stop the cat from clawing at them. "You weren't kidding. He is a little bastard, isn't he?"

The shelter volunteer looks mortified. "Oh, gods! I am so sorry. I tried to warn you--I mean, not that I'm blaming you but--"

"No, it's alright. I did ask you to show me stragglers."

The shelter worker gestures to another pen on the other side of the room. "I can show you the kittens we just got in or there are some very well behaved older cats as well if you'd--"

But Aelwyn cuts her off, scooping up the old cat--though she holds him at arm's length for now, just to be safe. "No need. I haven't changed my mind. I'll take this one." She looks at the tag on his collar. "Hector."

Aelwyn is three and, as of a month ago, no longer the youngest Abernant.

She's had baby dolls in the past but never a baby sister and this is exciting new territory. She's full of questions. When is she going to be able to walk? When is she going to be able to talk? When will she be old enough to have lembas bread instead of formula?

Her parents seem less fascinated by the new addition to the family than she is but her mother is amused when she slaps away the hand of a colleague of her father's who tried to touch Adaine before sanitizing his hands, standing between the much larger man and her sister.

"So defensive. Perhaps she'll be an abjurer."

When Aelwyn asks what that is, her mother says that it's a kind of magical protector and she likes that a lot. That sounds like a good thing to be.

At night, Adaine cries. Except, she doesn't hear it because the mobile above her crib is etched with runes that cast the Silence spell.

"But what if she gets hurt?" Aelwyn asks.

Her father brushes her off. That's what the Unseen Servants are for. But she thinks that's what an abjurer might be for too and even though she isn't one yet, that doesn't mean she can't start practicing.

So, every night, Aelwyn waits until her parents have put Adaine down for bed and then tiptoes into her room. She checks to see if Adaine is silently wailing and if she is (and even sometimes if she isn't) she presses her face between the bars of the crib and sticks her little hand over Adaine's face.

"Don't cry," she says, even though the Silence spell mutes her words as completely as the tears. "Mum said I'm an abjurer. Nothing will get you. Don't cry, baby."

Adaine grabs her hand with impressive grip strength for something so small and, within a few minutes, she's trancing peacefully.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her sister is off to save the world again. This time from a Night Yorb--whatever that is.

It feels cruel that Adaine should have to go risk her life again so soon after she just almost died--not almost died, she did die before being raised by her cleric.

She wants to come with, to help in some way. Surely she could be helpful--last quest they brought Gilear for Helio's sake!

But Adaine doesn't ask her and she can't bring herself to say the words she needs to have the conversation she wants. So, instead, she lightly whaps Adaine on the shoulder with her spellbook as she's packing for the quest.

"I know you haven't done much studying lately what with your grades being based on how many hobgoblins you kill or whatever ridiculous system Aguefort has cooked up," Adaine rolls her eyes at that, "But if you don't mind a little cram session before you leave tomorrow, I can show you how to cast Teleport like I said. Might help you stay a touch less dead on your quest."

Her tone is light but her eyes betray her: Please, please, please don't die again.

Adaine's expression softens but then she scoffs, playing her half of their game. "I don't know what a Hudol dropout who's been in jail for the past year is gonna teach me but do your best."

Aelwyn is seven and her father is cross with her.

"Really Aelwyn," he says and even though they're talking via crystal she can feel the frost of his glare. "You thought it was appropriate to call me at work for no good reason? How many times have I told you and your sister to not bother me while I'm working."

She hates the word bother. She doesn't want to be a bother. She tries very hard not to be. Maybe she just didn't explain herself well enough.

"I know, father. But Addy got really scared and panicky on the playground. She was breathing really hard and--"

Her father makes a noise of disgust. "I don't have time for this. She is in primary school now. Stop coddling her. And her name is Adaine, not Addy. Please speak properly. I'm raising you better than that."

He hangs up before she can say anything else.

Aelwyn is eighteen and most of the claw marks on her arms have healed, which is nice. On her lap asleep is Hector who has apparently decided he likes her enough to use her as a radiator but not enough to submit to medical treatment without using her arms as a scratching post.

"You little heat vampire," she says as she slides her thumb across the screen of her crystal, searching for a video that will help her out. Eventually she finds one that looks promising and she calls it up.

On the screen, a halfling is standing next to a cat who is actively shredding her sweater with its claws. "You're going to be tempted to use some kind of a shield spell when applying the ointment," says the halfling. "But cats can smell abjuration magic and they don't love it. You won't get close enough to do the job. Isn't that right my darling?"

In response, her cat hacks up a hairball.

"Darling indeed," she says under her breath.

But even laced with sarcasm, the word is sweeter against her tongue than she anticipated.

She sinks her hand into Hector's fur and scratches his back for a few moments before tentatively speaking aloud. "Sleeping well, my darling?"

Hector says nothing--he's asleep and a cat. But warmth blooms in Aelwyn's chest--more than enough to make up for what Hector is leeching from her.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her father has just given her the most horrible command she's ever received in her life--and she's counting being made to sink a ship full of people in that calculation.

She knows her father doesn't expect her to delicately extricate the knowledge he needs from Adaine's mind. He expects her to get it at all costs. To ransack and pillage the memories if necessary with no heed of the consequences on her psyche. He'd probably prefer it that way--the more broken Adaine is, the easier it will be to mold her into a version of herself that is more useful to him.

Aelwyn is usually a smooth talker and a convincing liar but now, she stumbles all over her words, babbling out a stream of deflections and pleas as her heart squeezes tighter and tighter in her chest until she can't hold back the truth that she's been suppressing for years anymore.

"Adaine's just…she's a baby."

Aelwyn is eighteen and her apartment is full of cats.

She's always thought that the phrase, "One thing led to another" was a bit of a cop out--clearly there were key steps between point A and point B being glossed over--but in this case, there is truly no better way for her to articulate how she went from zero cats to ten cats in such a short amount of time.

She's sure that if she was still living with Jawbone, he'd have something to say about it but that's exactly why she isn't currently living with Jawbone.

She portions out food for all of the cats, saving Hector for last because he likes to eat curled up next to her.

"My darling baby boy," she says, lifting him onto the couch with her because the jump up is a bit much for him and his old bones. She kisses him on the top of the head and then pulls out her crystal. She scrolls mindlessly for a bit before checking her messages despite the fact that there's conspicuously no notifications.

Not that she has many people to expect texts from but she hasn't heard from Adaine in a few weeks and it's unsettling. When they weren't getting along, they were still living under the same roof. She was able to keep tabs on her, more or less. Now, they're closer than they've been in ages but barely talking.

I'm the older sister, I suppose, Aelwyn thinks. I should take the initiative.

She pets Hector with one hand and drafts a message with another: Are you alive, bitch?

She's about to press send but then she frowns and deletes the draft. After a few moments of thought, she taps out a new message: Can't believe I'm gonna say this. Miss my little sister. Everything all right?

Aelwyn is seventeen--though she doesn't feel like it.

Her mind is telling her that she's sixteen and that she was just been broken out of a jail cell in Solace but Adaine is telling her that she's just been broken out of an entirely different prison after being tortured for months even though she doesn't remember any of that.

But her body feels frail and Adaine says she's been in her mind which means she must have used the hard reset.

She's suddenly feeling very vulnerable--not because of the disorientation or the of the levels of exhaustion she can feel weighing on her like leaden chains. No, it's because of the fact that Adaine using the reset means that she must have read the treacle-y note that she left there for her to find.

It was just an insurance policy, she tells herself. There was wisdom to buttering up your savior to make sure she'd do what you needed her to do.

She manages to mostly believe it. But the small, truthful part of herself that knows how deeply she meant the words is so uncomfortable that she antagonizes Adaine until she's annoyed enough to hit her with a spell, sending her into blissful unconsciousness.

Aelwyn is nineteen and she's going to kill her mother.

Well, not alone of course. Adaine deserves the kill at least as much as she does if not more. It'll be a group effort.

It's a strange mix--the cold fury at her mother mixed with the warmth she feels for her sister, sitting across the table from her. She summons a flame to her palm, a preview of what their mother has waiting for her. She watches Adaine's eyes harden with resolve and she sees the face of her baby sister, left to wail alone silently for hours, soothed by her presence. "Let's get her."

"Yes, my dear," she says, the endearment coming freely as if this has always been their dynamic. "We'll get her."

But there will be time for that later. Right now, it's time for ice cream and seeing Adaine so content in such a simple pleasure causes the warmth in her to surge so suddenly that it would be startling if it wasn't so pleasant. The urge to voice it is so powerful that she doesn't know that would have been able to stop it at any point in life, let alone now.

"I hope we get to eat ice cream and cast magic forever," she says, words that would have been impossible for her to say one short year ago and impossible not to say now.

And, to her delight, Adaine agrees.

#fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #d20 #spoilers #aelwyn abernant #adaine abernant #i wrote this for two reasons #the first reason is that I'm obsessed w/ how verbally affectionate aelwyn became in jy and I wanted to explore that #the second is that tumblr user catartac wanted more cats in a previous meta/fic I wrote about aelwyn and she was so valid #it didn't fit in the last one so I put it here #i watched a video about how much vocabulary three years olds have for this lol #abernant sisters #edit: i tweaked a bit in the last section bc i was reminded during clip watching today that it's actually aelwyn who summons a fireball #in the middle of basrar's lmao #whoops #honestly should have remembered #aelwyn is nice now but she's still a drama queen

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cjlouwho · 5 months ago

Text

The Fight

Tommy calmed himself before he walked into the station. Closed his eyes and did the breathing technique he'd learned in therapy years ago.

They needed to talk about this. He couldn't handle it if something happened during Buck's shift and the last words they had spoken to each other were in anger.

He spotted Buck fairly quickly. He was in the middle of a workout, sitting on a bench and lifting weights. Although it looked like he was mostly talking to Eddie.

Eddie, who was standing in front of him, nodding his head as Buck spoke.

Eddie eyed Tommy first. “Buck,” he said in the middle of Buck's rant.

“-and I- I don't think that's fair, Eddie. It's not fair of him to- to treat me like I'm a child-”

“Buck,” Eddie repeated, louder this time.

Buck groaned. “What?”

Eddie pointed behind him. “Tommy.”

Buck froze, then slowly turned to see Tommy standing behind him, staring at him. After a brief glance, Buck cast his eyes downward.

“Hey, man,” Eddie greeted. Buck rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Eddie,” Tommy replied. “Mind if I talk to Evan for a second?”

“Nope. I'll be upstairs.”

Tommy watched as Eddie headed upstairs, waiting until he was out of earshot to turn back to Buck. “What are you doing here, Evan?” he asked.

Buck placed the weights he had resting on his thighs down on the ground. “Working.”

“Your shift doesn't even start for another twelve hours.”

Buck got up and began placing weight plates on the barbell. “I asked Bobby if I could do a twenty-four instead. He said yes.”

“You literally told me two days ago that they weren't allowing overtime right now.”

“Did you really come all the way here to keep fighting with me?”

“First of all, I'm not the one who started the fight,” Tommy said, stepping closer, “and I'm not the one who can't look their boyfriend in the eyes.”

Buck stopped messing with the barbell and glared up at Tommy. His eyes were red, although Tommy couldn't tell if it was from crying or rage. “Better?” he asked bitingly.

“Yeah, actually, it is. It's a great improvement from you walking out on me this morning.”

Buck crossed his arms defensively. “There wasn't anything left to say.”

“I strongly disagree. We've both talked about this before, Evan. How you don't like the feeling of people walking out on you. How it scares you, makes you worry. Did you forget I told you the same thing? How it reminds me of what my dad did to my mom and me over and over again?”

Tommy swore he could see a twinge of guilt flash through Buck's eyes, but it was quickly replaced with more anger.

He moved closer to Tommy. “I wasn't going to sit at your place and be berated for however long you decided to yell at me-”

“I was not yelling.”

“-for doing my job.”

Now it was Tommy's turn to fill with a new wave of rage. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it back, pursing his lips as he thought over his words. “You were not doing your job, Evan,” Tommy spoke slowly, carefully. “You made a bad decision that could have gotten you killed.”

Buck scoffed. “Danger is part of the job, Tommy. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Tommy felt like pulling his hair out. They'd had this whole argument a few hours earlier. No matter what he said, he couldn't seem to get through to Buck. “You ran into a burning building without your gear, Evan! There were other firefighters there, but you just ran in! You could have died!”

“But I didn't! God, Tommy, you're acting like I'm a baby! I've been doing this for years; I know what I'm capable of!”

Tommy brought a hand to his forehead, pressing against his temple. This was pointless. “I don't even know why I came here,” he said with a shrug. He gave Buck one last glance before turning to leave.

“Still don't know why you're angry at me for saving someone's life!” Buck called out to him as he headed for the door.

The words made Tommy turn on his heels. “You really don't know why I'm angry with you?!” he asked. The question came out harsher than he intended.

Buck stood his ground. “No, I don't!”

“Unbelievable!” Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Because I love you, Evan!” he exclaimed. “I love you so damn much! So, yeah, it makes me a little angry when I see that you aren't in this as much as I am. That you don't love yourself enough to care if you come back home!”

Buck felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. It took him a second to find his voice again. “You... You love me?”

“Of course I do, Evan.” Tommy spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Have for quite a while now.”

Buck moved closer to him. “You don't think I- I'm in it as much as you?”

Tommy let out a deep breath. “I didn't mean it like that,” he said, his voice calmer now. “I just meant... I always try my damndest to make it back to you, every shift. Every call I go on, you're in the front of my mind. Be safe for Evan, stay focused for Evan, make it home because Evan will be there waiting. And I don't expect you to love me back or anything like that, but it would be nice to know that you try to make it home to me too.”

“I do,” Buck replied earnestly. “I do try, Tommy. I- I, when I was on that call, I ran back in because of you.”

Any anger left in Tommy's body was replaced with confusion. “What?”

“The guy I went in for, his- his boyfriend was yelling for him. He was panicked, like he- he would go insane if something had happened to him. All I could think about was you. How I'd go crazy if you were in a burning building and I- I couldn't get to you. I couldn't think of doing this life without you, Tommy. So, I ran in. And, I mean, you can ask Bobby, I'm not careless like that anymore, not like I used to be. And I do love you, Tommy. I love you so much it scares me. I promise I'm in this with yo-”

Before Buck could even process it, Tommy had cleared the space between them. He brought his hands to Buck's face pulled him in for a kiss.

Buck couldn't help the surprised moan that escaped him as Tommy pressed himself even closer. Buck grabbed onto Tommy's shirt, tugging on it like he was desperate for more.

It wasn't until tongues got involved that there was the sound of a throat being cleared behind them.

They stopped, both breathing heavily, then turned back to see the rest of the team watching them from upstairs.

“I knew you two lovebirds would work it out," Eddie said with a smirk on his face.

Chimney sniffed, earning him looks from the others. “I'm a sucker for romance,” he explained.

“I tried to get them to back off,” Hen defended. “I mean, not very hard, but I did try.”

Bobby simply smiled down at them. “Buck, your shift doesn't start until tonight. Go home.”

And well, they weren't gonna argue with that.

#bucktommy #911 #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #pretend this is a romantic comedy okay #lets just roll with it #cheesy as hell but i spent time on this and i won't let it go to waste!

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monster-disaster · 28 days ago

Text

[tentacle] Monster under the bed +1

tentacle!monster x human!Reader Good to know: smut, no plot

Previously: [tentacle] Monster under the bed - Your new house is full of surprises.

Summary: You can't help yourself, you try out the bed again.

The silence presses down on you as you hover in the doorway. Your hand is on the wooden frame, fingers trailing along its worn surface while your eyes are locked on the bed. It is a familiar sight, yet it feels different now as if the air around it carries a weight of its own. It looks just as it did a few days ago: white sheets stretched taut, invitingly soft blankets spilling over the sides, and the dark, robust frame grounding it in place. Nothing feels out of place, but you know the truth. You experienced it. And damn, you want it again.

The last several days blurred together in a haze of legal jargon and endless paperwork, but even with the constant demands of sorting through your aunt's will, the memory of your first night in her house, well, now yours, lingered in the back of your mind like a shadow you couldn't quite shake off. Though, with so much to do, you hadn't let yourself dwell on it. So, instead of settling in the upstairs bedroom, you'd chosen the couch in the living room. It wasn't exactly comfortable, you have to buy a new one as soon as possible, but it was your only option since you didn't have the time or energy to face the monster under the bed.

But this night is different. The house seems quieter now, broken only by the steady, rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs, and the air feels alive, heavy with waiting and unspoken anticipation. It wraps around you like a charged current. Your stomach tightens with excitement and nervousness as your gaze remains fixed on the bed. Its crisp white sheets and soft blankets seem to glow faintly in the dim light of the room, inviting and taunting. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you pull the edge of the plush towel tighter around yourself. The fabric is soft and warm against your bare skin.

Something about the room feels different now as though it’s holding its breath along with you, waiting for you to take the next step.

"I can't believe I'm going to do this," you murmur under your breath. Your voice wavers with a mix of disbelief and determination as you take slow, deliberate steps further inside the quiet room. The towel slips from your grip, falling silently to the floor in a soft heap around your feet. You step over it without a glance, the cool air brushing against your bare skin, sending a shiver racing down your spine.

Stopping beside the bed, for a long moment, you just stand there, and then, with a quiet exhale, you climb up onto it. The mattress shifts slightly under your weight as you move, your breathing shallow as you settle on your knees. You let yourself sink into the position, your legs folding beneath you while your hands rest lightly on your thighs. The sheets feel cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the lingering heat of your body. Your eyes roam the edges of the bed, tracing its shadowed lines as the anticipation builds. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of wind outside, feels magnified as you sit there, waiting.

Your breath catches, and your heart beats faster. The tension in the room is thick enough to hold you in place.

And you don't have to wait for long.

With growing tension, you watch as the familiar dark purple tentacles begin to emerge from beneath the bed. They move, curling and twisting on the soft sheets, tracing lazy paths along the blankets. Their slick texture glimmers under the dim light of the room. You can see the ripple of muscles as they get closer and closer.

You don’t realize you are holding your breath until your lungs protest, burning with the strain. "Okay," you gasp. Your hands fidget nervously in your lap, fingers twisting together as you force yourself to remain still. "You won't hurt me," you add, though the words are more for your own benefit than anything else.

The gap between you and the tentacles continues to shrink, each second stretching longer than the last. Your muscles coil, every fiber of your being instinctively anticipating the touch, the moment they make contact. It feels like an eternity, but finally, they reach you. The first touch is almost tentative, the tips of the tentacles grazing over the smooth skin of your knees. The featherlight touch sends a shiver through your spine. Then slowly, they slide upward. Their movement is fluid as they glide over your thighs, tracing the curve of your body with a surprising gentleness. You inhale sharply, your chest rising and falling with the rhythm of your shallow, quick breaths while they wind around your waist. Their cool, slippery length leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your arms lift slightly and instinctively to give them more room to roam. Your fingers tremble as you hold yourself steady. The tension in your body is palpable, every nerve on edge as you watch their movements, your gaze fixed, unwilling to look away.

“Oh,” you sigh softly. The sound escapes you before you can stop it.

The tentacles move with intent. They explore you, curling and across your bare skin. They graze over the sensitive curves of your breasts, flicking and licking your nipples until they are hard, tender pebbles. The limbs coil around your soft flesh, kneading and groping.

You are completely absorbed in the sensation, so much so that you don’t notice the tentacles slithering up between your legs. They press forward with a delicate persistence, spreading your thighs apart in the process. The sudden rush of cold air against the damp heat of your center jolts through your body, sharp and biting. It punches an airy gasp from your heaving chest, and your hips instinctively shift, seeking more contact. The delicate press of the tip of the tentacles is a subtle reminder of just how much control you’ve lost and how much you don't care about it at all. The two limbs explore your pussy, gliding along your folds. You shudder with delight, taking a deep, sharp breath when one tip brushes over your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud over and over again.

"Oh, fuck," you groan under your breath, looking down at the tentacles stroking up and down between your legs. Even the sight is enough to take your breath away, but feeling them spreading your own wetness between your thighs is more than you can bear without moving. Your hips rock on their own accord, searching for the friction that has you moaning when you feel one tip at your entrance, prodding. Your head falls back as you feel it press inside you, your hand automatically reaches down, your fingers curling around the tendril that ripples and shifts under your touch.

The two limbs wrapped around your thighs tighten their grip, keeping you open and utterly exposed. The firmness of their hold contrasts sharply with the softer touch of the ones exploring your chest. They knead and tease your breasts, their movements deliberate and slow, drawing shivers and soft gasps from your lips. The other tendril in your pussy pushes deeper within you. Its girth stretches you, filling you with a tantalizing pressure that leaves you dizzy with arousal.

For a long, endless moment, you forget everything else, completely consumed by the overwhelming fullness. The last several days, and even the fact that you are kneeling naked on the bed to get fucked by a monster hiding under the bed somehow, all fades into the back of your mind. Your fidgeting grows more desperate, every motion sending jolts of pleasure through you, making it impossible to stay still. The tendril inside you moves with maddening precision, stroking against spots that make your vision blur. Your thoughts dissolve into a haze of heat and need. Time halts for a heartbeat, only to whirl around you when a second tendril presses against your slick, needy entrance. Its tip is unyielding yet gentle, testing the limits of what you can take. The stretch is intense, teetering on the edge of too much, yet your body responds with a rush of heat and involuntary shivers. Your hips twitch, caught in a helpless rhythm, trying to adjust to the new intrusion even as the first tendril continues its maddening exploration. They move in perfect synchronicity, each thrust and grind forcing you to confront just how far your limits can be pushed. A sharp cry rises in your throat, raw and trembling, and your toes curl. Your muscles twitch, and the burning coil in your stomach makes your spine arch. Each thrust feels deeper, more intense. Your mind swims in the haze of pleasure and surrender. And then, just when you think you can’t take any more, they adjust, angling perfectly to hit that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. Your entire body twitches, caught in the tidal wave of pleasure as the tendrils inside you find their mark again and again. Each calculated thrust sends bolts of ecstasy coursing through your veins, building a pressure deep within that demands release.

The limbs holding your thighs tremble slightly, adjusting their grip to keep you perfectly positioned, vulnerable, and utterly exposed to their relentless attention. The tendrils inside you work in tandem, their movements a perfect symphony of pleasure and teasing control. The ones stretching your soaked, trembling walls pulse gently, creating a rhythm that stokes the heat building in your core.

Above, the tendrils on your chest shift their tactics, tugging and rolling your hardened peaks between soft, textured tips. Every squeeze sends ripples of arousal straight to your pussy. Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more. Every movement pulls you deeper into their grasp.

A strangled moan escapes you. Your breath comes in short, desperate gasps as the pressure inside crests higher. They sense your mounting release, the way your body quivers and clenches around them, and their pace shifts. They become faster and more insistent.

Your body tenses, your vision blurs, and the world seems to shatter as the climax crashes over you in waves, leaving you trembling and utterly spent in their grasp. Your cries echo in the space around you, raw and unrestrained. The tendrils inside you slow their movements but don’t withdraw, their presence a constant, throbbing reminder of the pleasure they’ve drawn from you.

The limbs holding you begin to loosen, though not entirely, as if reluctant to release their claim. The tendrils inside you withdraw slowly after several seconds. Their departure is just as intense as their intrusion. The emptiness they leave behind sends a pang through your body, a mix of relief and longing that leaves you unsteady. As they retreat, their lingering touches trace along your skin, leaving trails of cool, slick sensations that make your body shiver. Your limbs feel boneless, your mind hazy, lost in the aftermath of their relentless attention.

Soon, they disappear under the bed, leaving you trembling and breathless.

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #teratophillia #monster fucker #terat0philliac #monster smut #tentacle x human #tentacle x reader #tentacle smut #tentacle monster #monsterfucking #tentacles #monster fucking #grimbrook

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simp-ly-writes · 1 month ago

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Hope in a Bottle

─────── · ·

Pairing: AU!Silco x Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You had died many years ago, or at least that was true in Silco's world. He had learned to live without you but when graced with the opportunity to see you once again- he can't help but indulge.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, ANGST (but no seriously there are no happily ever afters), some fluff/comforting moments, suggestive themes.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,668

─ · · A/N: I cried like at least four times when writing this, this show HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD.

─────── · ·

Silco often thought about you in passing moments. These moments he remembered sharing with you amongst your friends and in the comfort of your arms used to be coated in blue that he would drown and surround himself in; but as your presence forever lingered in his mind blue turned to pink and rose-tinted glasses glossed over every moment- every memory with a certain degree of fondness that he would catch himself smiling even when no one was in the room.

You would always manage to light up the room, tell him a joke when he needed it most, told him off and raised him up. He put so much of himself into you into your presence that when you left... it was like he had to redefine who he was but forever remained unsuccessful.

Silco learned to live without you physically but that did not mean that your jacket was still not waiting for your return on the back of his couch or your glass still half-filled by the bedside. Your chair at the bar was always kept at the back, awaiting your return as you both shared kisses in the storage room. He would always remember how the stained glasses reflected in your eyes, the colour breaking across your skin in a forever radiant presence just like you.

Vander would catch Silco in these moments when wiping down the bar top or taking a walk down by the Zaun bay, overlooking the artificial lights and hints of sunlight being cast upon the black waters. Watching as the mans hand opened and tensed before falling back down to his side.

"You doing alright there. brother?" Vander asked in a soft tone as they both crossed over to topside for the day. Silco looked up, a strand of his hair falling from his salt and pepper hair- blowing with the wind. "We are always alright in the hope to be better, and when we get better we hope for it to stay only to be alright once again; stuck in the cycle of it all I find myself on the better side today."

Vander hums along to Silco's words as they stop at the various market stalls to see their offerings a few new bottles for the bar from another region across the sea and a bag of sweets for the kids in the area. The men are suddenly greeted with another body stepping in between the two and falling inline with their pace.

"And how are we doin'?" Powder asks with a wide smile, trying to squeeze her arms together to encompass both of their sides before turning around to walk backwards and hold conversation.

Silco winces as Power almost misses lamp post after lamp post by mere millimetres. "We are fine, just about to make our way back home actually. Anywhere your headed, young lady?" Silco teases, his voice sharing sincerity in every syllable.

Powder rolls her eyes before turning back around, head tilting over her shoulder before she disappears back amongst the crowd, "Going to see this new invention Echo has been telling me about!" Vander shakes his head with a loving stare where Powder had just stood.

"She's going to change the world one day, you know?" Vander says to the wind, hoping that it catches her ears but it only does Silcos.

"I'm afraid she already has for she is your own world," Silco comments, placing a hand on his friends shoulder before powering forwards. "I hate it when your always right," Vander teases before taking two long strides to catch back up.

"Well I perfected it only from the best." Both mens minds go directly back to you, smiling and twirling in the bar to a new record you had found on the topside. Somehow you had already known all the lyrics after this being your supposed first time listening to the piece.

"They always knew, huh," Vander says, looking down to catch Silco small smile. "Yes, but not everything I wanted them to..."

─────── · ·

When back in Zaun and at The Last Drop, bar-goers had already flooded the decorated space for tomorrow night it would be the inventions fair, a bar local already chosen to set the mood for the night and a few university members stationed with scholarships in mind.

Both Vander and Silco were excited to witness the extraordinary kids they knew have the opportunity to show their talents to others and hopefully the collective dream of them changing the world would come true but fate always had to make its presence known in the doorway.

Blue sparkled out of the corner of Silco's eye as he leaned against the bar top waiting to continue his conversation with Vander. A half eaten apple sat beside his notebook that he was picking away at while conducting the accounting for the month. His back burned with his age from being hunched over for so long as he stood up to stretch.

Laughs echoed throughout the bar, feet dancing against the wooden plank floors, drinks clashing and spilling against the tables as another gets thrown out the side door. Powder had left a few moments ago with Echo, a certain mischievous look in her eye that Silco did not find unusual at the time would only shock his system now when he caught from reflection in the glass of his amber filled cup.

Your name graced his lips, remembering the feel, imaging your warmth against his skin and to feel it, to see it. He thought to be surreal, to be going senile as he looked to Vander for support and only found him smiling with a wink before turning back around to serve another customer.

Your skin was a thousand colours coming to life in his eyes, his hand drifting from the back of your fingertips, up your arm to your shoulder, neck upon which you shiver and rest your forehead upon his own. "How I've missed you," words that he only hoped to hear, have only read to himself in comfort written by his own hand- a fantasy turned reality now spoken to truth between your very own lips that Silco had to claim.

You melted into his touch, decades without the familiarity- him haunting your body with memory of his touch now appearing as goosebumps in recognition. You smile against his lips, hand running up against the smooth fabric of his vest before lacing in the silver locks of his hair.

Out of breath, you both pant, hands still gripping one another tightly as if afraid the other would disappear once more. "I thought to have lost you, to be so alone for so long. Why is it now that you appear just when I was surviving once again off of scraps?" Silco asks into your ear, not wanting to break this moment between the two of you. Even when in a crowded bar, it is only the two of you present in this moment.

"I would ask myself the same questions when I came back alive thanks to the technology developed in my universe and by what force I have yet to know, I am forever thankful for returning me, my soul, back to you to rest finally," you speak through tears mixing with Silco's silent ones dripping down his cheekbones and falling against your clothes that stain the fabric dark.

"I should thank that force as well," Silco murmurs, lost in your eyes, brushing away your tears. "I think it best we have the rest of this conversation elsewhere," Silco grabs your hand before pulling you out of the bar. The cheers and claps becoming distant as he leads you back to his apartment.

He locks the door behind you both, watching as you gently let go of his hand and walk around his space. Your hand feels the leather of your jacket still sat in the same place where you left it, against the couch in a forgotten moment of need. You continue towards the kitchen, seeing the various crayon pictures of Violet and Powder attached to the fridge who Silco explained to you before walking towards the bedroom. Your glass still waiting for you beside an unopened bottle you remember gifting Silco for his birthday.

"Why did you never open it?" You ask, fingers tracing around the neck of the bottle coated in a layer of dust you blow from your fingertips. "You said not to open it without you there to try it, I kept to my promise in hope for an impossible day like today. It was a reminder of not to drain my hope as many other's do."

All you can do is nod before holding the bottle in between your hands, a sickness suddenly washes over you as you take in Silco's form leaning against the doorframe. His arms crossed, leg tucked over the other and the scar of his yellow eye glowing warmly- lighting up the room amongst the candles.

He expects you to open the bottle, you understand that in doing so means you are to stay but that is something you cannot do. Not when Echo and the Professor are building a time-machine, not when your world is about to erupt in ruins.

You want nothing more to indulge more than you already had into this word of perfection and wrongs written right but that would be a cruelty brought upon this world. You knew you shouldn't have gone up to him, kissed him, felt his skin upon you skin only to take it away like the hopes of everyone else who had died during this war.

But you were only human, your heart already shattered and in need of repair, of warmth and kindness but you would only be selfish just as much as those you were out to strike down. "I-I can't open the bottle Silco. I-" you start to sob, hands shaking before placing the bottle back upon the nightstand.

You bring your knees back up to your chest, breaths heavy as your head spins, blood starting to drip down your nose, the reflection of blue out of the corner of your eyes as you gripping the sheets, knuckles turning white as Silco runs over, falling to his knees as he begs to see your face.

"Please, whatever is the matter, darling?" Silco asks, the sweetness of his tone doing nothing but to further indulge your nausea as you spiral. "I shouldn't have come to you, have done any of this!" You shout, trying to shove the man away but Silco only stands, wrapping his arms around your body as you do your best to kick and shove him away.

You look over his shoulder, watching as the sunsets through the window and sheer blinds. "Silco," you sob, fingers digging into the material of his vest once again in a panic rather than in reverence. "Silco, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that this was not forever, that this will only be another memory and perhaps the once that hurts the most knowing that I left rather than was forced to..."

"Then let me hurt, allow me to bleed, allow me to weep for I have endless time for that but only a finite time to be truly happy. So please, indulge me, drink it all and leave me once more with the knowledge that you are out there somewhere in another place, alive. Please, please," Silco begs turn into whispers as you press your tears into his neck before leaving a lingering kiss.

"Until the sunrise we shall be happy in the night," you speak softly in between kisses, your vision still clouded in tears.

"Until the sunrise," Silco restates before capturing your lips once more and sighing heavily. The moons bask ignites you both, lighting the liquid in your bodies burn as you take pleasure in one another.

You feel him, your hearts and souls connecting, rekindling in what is only to be heartbreak that makes you both press harder into one another. Leave marks across each others skin and kiss them delicately afterwards. It is in you both taking a bath afterwards until the cold waters have you both frozen still in realization as the sun rises and fills the room. Its warmth lost as you pick up your clothes and leave your jacket leaning against the couch once more.

You stare at the empty bottle at the bedside and watch as Silco picks it up and looks at you through it was a wavering smile. "Goodbye, my love and know that it was always you my soul yearns for and you who I define myself as."

"I really wish this didn't have to be the end, Silco...." you try your best not to sob, chocking on your words yet standing firm in your positions knowing that comforting one another would only make the hurt worse than it already was burning. "...in another life, I can see how easily we could have had it all- could have been happy."

"I wouldn't want any other memories than the ones we share," you nod in agreement, your body shakes, skin burns in want as you reach for the cold handle that sends shivers down your spine.

"Goodbye, Silco, I love you, forevermore."

"And I you."

─────── · ·

The walk to Jinx's place is a long and cold one, a thousand pairs of eyes stare at you with their condolences. You refuse to meet any of their stares, knowing that by just one look you would be running back into his arms for comfort.

Echo and Heimerdinger are already there and waiting for you, Echo extends his hand and lifts you up onto the platform. A swirl of arcane magic mixed fits the seeds of that all-too-familiar blue have you floating with a scream as the Professor sacrifices himself with one last salute to you both. Echo holds you, the loss of today holding heavy yet his touch is not what you yearn for as you cry into his jacket, gripping the collar of it as colours swirl around your vision and you are brought back to the battlefield once more.

Bullets wiz past your had, another graces your cheek as your blood falls like tears against the broken pavement. The roar of a monster rumbles the ground as you sprint towards the closing barriers, throwing yourself over them and into a sea of dead blue enforcers.

Screams haunt your ears, echoing distantly through your memories and brought forth into reality as you step over cast aside limbs and guns. You watch as Vi ahed of you holds another as they take their final breaths, a machine gun makes you loose hearing in your left ear and next thing you knew, a burning sensation was coming from your right leg where a ghastly wound had planted itself.

Hoisting and forcing yourself to stand you carry forth with a limp and defend the entrance, holding cover and watching as the trojan horse gets rolled in through the barriers all you can feel is Silco's marks as you charge forwards with an unrelenting cry.

─────── · ·

Silco fell back into the bed and stayed in that exact same numb position until Vander came to find him, "You know, there was a part of me debating weather or not to distract you from 'em and theres a part of me now that regrets not doin' so."

"It wouldn't have mattered anyways, the hurt of not seeing them when I got the chance to would have hurt just as much if not more. But I appreciate the sentiment, brother," Silco responds, rolling the cork of the bottle in between his thumb and finger.

"Finally drank it, huh?" Vander comments, picking up the bottle from the stand as gently as possible between his large hands. All Silco can do is smile, a singular tear dripping down his cheek that gets cast away, "yeah, something like that."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: so... what did y'all think?

#fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #x reader #simp-ly-writes #arcane silco #silco x reader #silco #au!silco x reader #older!silco x reader #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane fanficiton #angst #hurt no comfort #heavy angst #suggestive themes

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