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#also let me make this abundantly clear
lowvintagesims · 10 months
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know it sounds funny but i just can't stand the pain i'm leaving you tomorrow
next
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the-woman-upstairs · 5 months
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Honestly, even without Art’s attempts at manipulation and sabotage, I don’t think Patrick and Tashi’s relationship would’ve survived anyway. Before they started dating, Patrick was criticizing her career plans and Tashi was never interested in entertaining his massive ego at her expense. Passion and chemistry are important to relationships, but if that’s the only foundation, it’s gonna crumble quickly.
The only difference between Patrick/Tashi vs Art/Tashi is that the relationship would’ve ending with a bang instead of a whimper.
#challengers#challengers spoilers#patrick and tashi need art between them#his willingness to submit even when done so with manipulative intentions does let tashi and patrick to indulge in their desire for control#the movie makes a point of saying that patrick is constantly shooting himself in the foot because he’s unwilling to humble himself#art let patrick get away with a LOT but tashi does and would not#but even tho patrick does get to the point where he can humble himself it’s still necessary for patrick to go off script and stir shit up#the way the film ends makes it abundantly clear that all three of them need each other to function#and that each person brings something different to the trio that each person needs#so i don’t buy that patrick and tashi could’ve worked things out on their own#tashi so clearly likes art’s dependence and loyalty to her#while also getting a lot from patrick’s passion and pushback#would also like to say that i personally love when art’s a mean little bitch#not only cause it’s fun but because it really seems born out of a fear of being left alone/behind#spreading my ‘art’s a greedy pillow princess that actually needs TWO tops to handle him’ agenda#and wrt the injury…sorry no one’s actually at fault for that#not only could no one could ever engineer something like that#it could’ve happened at any time because that’s life#in the film it’s meant to underscore the danger of disharmony between all three of them#and snap the tenuous thread holding all three of them together#and placing blame kind of misses the overall point the film is going for wrt the relationship between all three#hey is it just me or has this film broken my brain
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goldiipond · 1 year
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thinking about how easily ray was willing to make an exception to his firm ‘i can only save emma and norman’ stance once don and gilda are actually in on the escape. the fact that, during his ‘deal’ with norman in ep 5 ‘we can bring don and gilda too’ isnt a condition norman had that ray begrudgingly agreed to but rather one that ray brought up completely unprompted.
ray has spent years coming to terms with the fact that saving everyone is impossible, years putting emma and norman over everyone else because they were the most precious people in his life and because risking a bigger escape could get everyone killed. he thought it was better for the others to live ignorant, happy lives until their shipment than to get killed on the outside. 
ray never had that same ignorant bliss the others had, emma and norman lost it after seeing conny, and while don and gilda aren’t given the full truth at first, they are given enough to have that illusion shattered for them as well. i just think a lot about how ray knows what it’s like to be trapped in that house without that happy illusion, and the moment don and gilda lose it, he can’t allow himself to push them away anymore.
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misslisamiray · 6 months
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Time for the other thing I promised (and sorry it's a day late): An update on the Rick and Morty fanfic I'm writing! With bonus pic of the pretty space-themed binder it resides in. Also, from this post on, said fic will be referred to by its actual title.
Current page count: 80!!! (Which is so much longer than I expected this fic to get, but I am not complaining.) Status: Not done yet, but I'm entering the final stretch. I've given up on setting a goal date for when it's going to be finished, but I feel like I can now safely say SOON. Also, until the full fic is up on Ao3 & ff, you'll now be getting excerpts every Thursday!
Summary: Rick has a nasty cold... which he initially tries to pass off as an alien virus that can mimic any illness. Morty does his best to take care of him, and Rick (of course) makes things so, so much more difficult for both of them than they need to be. No one is surprised.
Meanwhile, Beth and Summer are out of the house, and Jerry is searching in the attic for the 90's anime VHS he's sure will help him figure out EXACTLY what to do (keep in mind he's the only one who still believes Rick's alien virus story). 😅
And now, without further ado, excerpt & dumbass title reveal below the cut!
Excerpt from Down With the Rickness by MissLisaMiray
"That's more like it. Okay, Rick. Here you go." Morty sighed. He carefully filled the medicine's accompanying measuring cup to the top line and tried to hand it to Rick.
"I don't want it." Rick grumbled, waving it away.
"Seriously?! Why not?" Morty asked, exasperated.
"It looks gross. I'm too stuffed up to tell, but it probably smells gross, too. And I know it's gonna taste like shit. So no, I don't want it." Rick explained, stubbornly turning his head. Morty barely held back a scream.
"Are you kidding me?! I thought it was gonna be something about this stuff being inferior to anything you'd make, so you were like, insulted by it. But it's just that? Of course it's gonna taste bad. Doesn't all medicine? Just swallow it quick and get it over with." He held the cup in front of Rick, who shook his head and continued refusing to take it.
"Of course this would be the one thing in the whole damn universe you won't drink. Rick, come on! It's for your own good. Stop acting like a 4 year old and take it!" Morty argued, climbing onto the bed and shoving the small cup in front of Rick's face. Rick opened his mouth to argue further, which Morty took advantage of by quickly pouring the medicine in before the old man could react.
Furious, the second he'd swallowed it down, Rick began sputtering, "Ugh, that's even worse than I thought it would be! Cough! Cough! What the hell, Morty?! Not cool! You can't force strange liquids down people's throats like that!"
"You think I enjoyed any part of that?! And don't be so dramatic - alI I did was make you take some cold medicine. Also, there's no way that's the most disgusting thing you've ever swallowed." Morty pointed out.
"Well, if nothing else, I can't argue that part. Still, that shit is foul. Yuck." Rick complained, still looking disgusted. He grabbed his flask and took a swig to wash away the taste. Morty considered saying something about that not being a great idea, but quickly decided it was a losing battle he wasn't interested in.
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dunmesh · 7 months
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this panel from the world guide of falin being surrounded by other girls while laios is all alone kills me because. that's it. that's the key difference in their journeys.
as laios states himself, he left the village in order to create a home for him and falin elsewhere. a home that won't collapse due to others' hatred and fears like their old home did, a home where they are loved and accepted unconditionally. but as he soon found out, even before earning money, or having walls surrounding him and a roof above his head- what he so earnestly desired was to meet other people who will accept him for who he is as well. instead, he kept being tormented by those around him, shunned and sneered at. his loneliness quickly became all-consuming until he truly had nothing left except for the monsters in the pages of his book, but even that became a target of mockery and destroyed. that's why ever since the day he left the village, he never felt that he truly made the right choice. so he kept running away: unable to resist and unable to accpet.
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and an ocean away from him there was his sister, who never managed to fully fit in herself. but unlike him, she met a person who became a home to her and learned what a true friendship was for the first time in her life. and laios clearly realizes that too when he finally sees falin and marcille together, he can tell his sister obtained the greatest treasure there is on her own- the exact thing he never managed to find anywhere himself, thus coming back empty-handed to the sister he left the village for.
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but when you read this part of the manga, laios's focus is on falin's loneliness, not his own. he talks about how it hurts thinking about all those moments she had to spend alone because he wasn't there for her, so it almost sounds like he's the one who couldn't bear her suffering and therefore decided to not let her go again. but we do get a glimpse of their first meeting after that almost-decade long separation in the manga, and then we see more of that in the world guide and daydream hour- and it becomes abundantly clear that it was falin who was trying to protect and save him from this pit of loneliness and depression he was in.
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so instead of just doing his best to atone for leaving her behind in the village and making sure she is never lonely again, it might also be that laios was desperately clinging to the one person in the world he felt that accepted and loved him unconditionally. those words he used to describe his motivation to stay by falin's side are the exact words she would've used as well; she couldn't bear leaving him behind in this state. in a sense, they were each other's shackles.
but then she did. she died for him and their friends, and ironically enough, it was by leaving him alone like this that he was finally able to stand on his own and put his full trust in others. to have the courage to reveal who he is and give others the opportunity to accept him after such a long time of hiding. it was a long journey, but his hiding finally came to an end when he faced the others after shedding his monster form. and i love that the person who was falin's "home" all those years away from laios, marcille, became just as meaningful to him during their time separated from falin- the first one to find him and show him that he isn't alone anymore. just as he did for her.
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so at the end of the story when falin talks about all the places she would like to go, it's not just that she wants to pursue her own dreams- but that she actually feels free to do so and go anywhere she desires. and one of the main reasons for that is that her brother finally found new people he wants to be with; his own home.
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euthymiya · 3 months
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i do (the practice round) — ft. gojo satoru
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satoru doesn’t drink often—but when he does, it’s always because there’s something heavy on his mind. you figure out just what it is as you shove a wasted satoru into your car in the middle of the night
before you read: fem reader ; non curse au, suguru never defects ; established relationship ; drunk gojo, mentions of alcohol ; mentions of marriage and proposals ; banter
notes: i am binging jjk season 2 and i think satoru’s bum ass would definitely ruin his own proposal and never even be aware of it
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Sometimes, you appreciate Suguru’s company. He makes it tolerable to deal with the handful that is Satoru. With a boyfriend as…eccentric as Satoru is, having someone as a voice of reason keeps you feeling sane sometimes. But sometimes, you also hate Suguru.
Right now, it’s the latter. You wouldn’t consider yourself on the list of his top fans now that he’s left you with a drunk, stumbling, and absolutely difficult Satoru to wrangle into your car and take home.
“Stupid Suguru,” you grumble, “I told him not to let you drink too much.”
Curse Suguru for leaving you for some random woman at the bar, and curse him for letting your lightweight boyfriend drink as much as he has. Satoru doesn’t even drink often—and certainly not this much.
You can’t help but wonder what got him here in the first place.
“Hey,” Satoru snaps, swatting your hand away as you shove his six-plus-foot-figure into the passenger seat, “don’t touch me. My wife will be mad.”
You pause, blinking before looking at him amused.
“You don’t have a wife, Satoru,” you snort. A small part of you thinks he’s an idiot, of course, but another part of you feels a thumping making itself abundantly clear in your ribcage, somewhere deep in your heart.
Wife. You like the sound of that, you think. You walk around the car, entering the driver’s side as Satoru sits and simmers in his despair.
“Don’t rub it in,” he whines, slumping against the dashboard of your car as he groans. “I don’t have a wife yet. Been trying for ages.”
“Trying what—”
“Every time I think v’got the perfect chance, s’ruined by somethin’ or another.”
“What are you talking about—”
He pulls something shiny out, dangerously at risk of dropping it with how wobbly his hands are from the alcohol in his system. You pause. Blink. Stiffen. Sit there in absolute silence as he stares at the ring in his hands woefully.
“Had it for weeks,” he says pitifully. And then, because he’s just as wasted as you suspected, he holds it out to you. You can’t find it in you to move, just staring blankly at it. “Think she’ll like it?”
“Who?” You croak, playing along.
“My girlfriend,” he grumbles. “You’re not very bright.”
“And you’re not very polite,” you snap back half heartedly, ears still ringing from his words just moments ago. Think she’ll like it?
He means you, of course. He doesn’t realize he’s speaking to the very person he’s supposed to present the ring with, but you suppose now you understand just why he’s taken to drinking so much this evening. He must be quite on edge as of late.
“Polite my ass,” he huffs under his breath, pulling you from out of your thoughts.
“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” You challenge.
He does. He kisses his girlfriend (you) senseless quite often, in fact. Maybe more than he should…perhaps even at places he should not.
“I do,” he says haughtily. “My girlfriend loves me. She’s obsessed with me, actually. She couldn’t live without me. She kisses me on the mouth all the time. Among other places too.”
You want to slap his shoulder at that last comment—it just about takes you everything not to. “Your girlfriend is crazy for kissing that mouth of yours,” you tease.
Satoru doesn’t appreciate you talking poorly of his girlfriend (you) like that. It’s offensive. You can tell as much from the purely insulted look on his face as he gasps, “don’t speak about my baby like that! This is why you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“I do, actually,” you grin. He doesn’t believe you—the disbelieving snort he lets out instantly would offend you if it was anyone else, maybe. But Satoru pulls a fond, easy smile across your lips.
It feels like muscle memory.
“You have a boyfriend?” He asks incredulously.
“I do,” you grin.
“You love him?”
“I do,” you confirm. He looks unconvinced, but shrugs anyway.
“Is he a loser or something? Dating you?”
“He is,” you grin wider, “a total loser.”
“Makes sense,” he snickers. And then his attention is back to the ring in his hand, his long, nimble fingers fiddling with it before he murmurs, “I hope she likes it.”
“I’m sure she will,” you say softly, biting your lip as your eyes feel just a bit misty.
You mean it, too. He’ll never know that, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“You really think so?” He asks quietly. Shy. Satoru has never been shy—he’s so many things. Loud. Outspoken. Stubborn. Maybe a little shameless. But shy doesn’t usually describe him.
He seems to unlock a few hidden sides of himself around you. You think you want to unlock a few more.
“I do,” you say for the third time that night.
It’s practice, you think, for the real thing.
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Imagine revealing on your tenth anniversary “btw i actually knew you were promising weeks before you did it. You showed me the ring and everything.” He’d claw his eyes out lolll
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teamatsumu · 8 months
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L&DS BOYS - LOVE LANGUAGES
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content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, sfw headcanons
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XAVIER - PHYSICAL TOUCH
Xavier knows he is smart, and witty enough. But when things get a little too real, he finds it hard to express himself.
And the feelings he has for you are the most genuine ones he has felt in his long, long life.
While he might not be someone who can wax poetic about his affection for you, he shows it in other ways, and physical touch in his favorite way to get his feelings across.
When you walk next to each other, he sticks close, arm brushing against yours. Occasionally, the back of his hand makes contact with your own. It's almost as if the tension builds and builds, until he finally connects your fingers, either intertwining your hands together or linking his pinkie with yours. No words leave his mouth. His touch says enough.
If the train is too crowded, he will pull you closer to him with a firm touch on the small of your back, making sure you don’t receive any unwanted bumps from strangers.
For a few weeks in your relationship, he developed a strange habit of pinching your cheeks and lightly pulling on them. You let him do it, knowing he would eventually move on and find some other part of you to focus on. Though the action did make your face heat up.
Another weird hyperfixation he has is nibbling at your fingertips absentmindedly. He plays with them often, but when he is distracted by a movie you two are watching, he will bite at them every so often. Sometimes, he is so focused on the screen that you doubt he even realizes what he is doing.
(He realizes. He just thinks every part of you deserves love. Don’t question it. It makes sense in his head.)
Cuddling with him is the perfect gift for your senses, stimulating you wonderfully.
Small nips on your skin, little lingering touches. He traces your skin with eager yet gentle hands, as if trying to memorize every curve and dip.
He buries his face in your neck and breathes in deep, and in that moment, bodies tangled with each other and the sheets, vulnerable and open, he will whisper, “I love you”.
It’s an affirmation more than a revelation, since his actions up until this point have all shown you that he really, truly does love you. So you whisper it back, trying to pour all your love into it, before slotting your lips together and using physical touch to convey your feelings right back.
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RAFAYEL - WORDS OF AFFIRMATION
Rafayel is, in the simplest of terms, a yapper.
This man could talk for hours if you don’t stop him. About his art, about the meaning of life, about his experiences. He can express so much while also having an impeccable talent of being completely vague. Sometimes, you don’t even understand the things he says. And you’ve given up trying to decipher his every word.
But when Rafayel is talking about you, he makes himself abundantly clear. There’s no ambiguity about it; he loves you. And he will say it a million different times in a million different ways. Whether it be a bold declaration of how much his heart yearns for you, or endless teasing that is meant to rile you up and get a reaction out of you.
“I don’t think your talent lies in art, babe. It’s a good thing you’re a walking art piece yourself. No wonder I’m in love with you.”
“You’re leaving so soon? But I don’t think I’ve admired you enough for today. Don’t leave me!”
I’m impressed, Miss Bodyguard. You’re talented, and easy on the eyes. No wonder you captivated me from that very first day we met.”
Expect to wake up with a lot of voice notes on your phone. Minutes long. Sometimes rambling, sometimes actual ideas for new pieces that he wants to run by you. You better reply to all of them individually.
When you cuddle at night, you can talk for hours. No topic on earth is off limits with him. He will lay you down on a blanket on the beach, and as you watch the stars, he will tell you stories from olden times about star crossed lovers and tragic fairy tales. And he will turn to you, tell you how beautiful you are, how ardently he loves you, how he will never forget any moment he spends with you.
It’s almost like you can tell the exact moment he falls in love with you. Because he tells you. He never stops telling you. He voices his fears of you leaving him, he makes you promise you will never go away. He is clingy and he is whiny, and he is so endearing.
It’s hard to dismiss him when he is so loud about his love. And it’s hard to not fall for him just as he falls for you.
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ZAYNE - ACTS OF SERVICE
This is an indisputable fact. Dr Zayne shows his love through acts of service.
He is intensely aware of your needs, and is miles ahead of you in determining what you require at any given moment.
It’s his way of showing you that he cares. He worries for you, and born from that worry is the urge to take care of you.
If you have had a long day, you will come home to a text from him saying he has ordered takeout and it will arrive at your house shortly, since he knows you are too exhausted to cook anything. It is always something different, but it is always food that he knows you enjoy. He will mix it with some healthy options too.
If you ever crash at his place, you will wake up to a tall glass of water and two aspirin on the side table, along with a note in his neat handwriting telling you that there is fresh cooked breakfast in the oven (he made it before he left for work).
Once you two are in a steady relationship, he keeps his house stocked with products you use. A spare shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, a bathrobe of your size, a hair brush, you name it.
When you mumble something about the hand cream in your purse that is nearly running out, you will find a brand new tube next time you open the purse, and there is no need to even ask. You know Zayne put it there.
He is intensely observant. Even after knowing him for so long, it catches you off guard. He knows which of your clothes need to be dry cleaned and which ones are good for the washing machine. He knows which scents you use. Which products are harsher on your skin. He knows that contacts irritate your eyes after long hours of wearing them, so he keeps a small bottle of eye drops in your side table for that very purpose.
He scolds you for neglecting yourself, and he won’t hold back the harsh tone if he thinks your behavior is particularly destructive. To him, the best way to show love is to make sure your beloved is living the best life they can.
It is the littlest things, the tiniest details. And it shocks you, even after so long.
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chubs-deuce · 7 months
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this is one of the fanarts I've made for the lovely @hazbinhobo's fic A Tail of Beignets' final chapter as they were kind enough to let me read a version of it early! :D
If you enjoy some good silly fluff and sexual tension for this ship then I highly recommend giving it a read, this fic is sure to keep you entertained from start to finish!
What I personally love about it is that it's so abundantly clear that the author had a blast writing it, the jokes land, the dialogue is so charming and it also manages to establish a feeling of missing context for certain background shenanigans without making the fic feel incomplete or poorly done.
This is also why I'm especially looking forward to reading Alastor's POV when the fic for it drops later today, so keep on the lookout for that! :D
It has been a joy and honor to tag along for the process of this fic and make art for it <3
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rafecameronssl4t · 25 days
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ok but imagine if sofia tries being all close to rafe knowing he has a gf & reader acts like she’s unbothered but reader catches sofia alone and scared sofia with threats 👀👀
Jealousy is a disease || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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GIF by @skubricks
A/n: love love love!!!! also made a little reference from gossip girl in this fic, ifykyk
Warnings: this is def kook!bitchy!reader, reader and her friend are mean girls to Sofia but just remember this is a fanfic!!!! i do not condone bullying whatsoever!!
Word count: 1,593
MASTERLIST
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divider by @h-aewo
Steph's eyes widen in disbelief as she watches Sofia and Rafe engage in a conversation that’s laced with unmistakable flirtation. The way Sofia leans in, her hand gently brushing his arm, and the subtle, playful smile on her lips make it abundantly clear what her intentions are. Steph turns to you, her voice filled with incredulity, "You're seriously telling me you're not bothered by this right now?"
You glance over at the pair, your gaze calm and unwavering. With a lazy swing of your leg, bent casually over the other knee, you reply with a shrug, "Not in the slightest." Your voice is cool, almost indifferent, as if the scene before you were of no consequence. Your eyes, however, remain fixed on Rafe.
"Are you feeling okay?" Steph teases, her voice laced with playful concern as she presses the back of her hand against your forehead. You let out a snort, swatting her hand away with a light slap as both of you break into smiles. "Ever heard of that saying, jealousy is a disease?" you quip, leaning further back into the couch, sinking into its cushions with a relaxed ease.
Steph turns her head to look at you, curiosity and amusement dancing in her eyes. "Why would I be jealous of someone like her?" you scoff, your tone dripping with condescension. The very idea seems absurd to you, and the edge in your voice makes it clear that Sofia poses no threat to you and your relationship with Rafe.
"You don't feel anything whenever you see the two of them talking?" Steph presses, her eyebrows raised skeptically as she watches Sofia toss her hair back in an exaggerated laugh.
You follow her gaze briefly before returning your attention to your perfectly manicured nails, feigning disinterest. "If anything, it's amusing to watch," you reply with a sly smirk playing on your lips. "She clearly doesn't have much up there if she thinks she's got a shot with Rafe."
To emphasize your point, you lightly tap your temple with a perfectly polished finger, your eyes glinting with a mix of confidence and subtle disdain. Steph bites back a laugh, but a soft chuckle escapes her lips despite her efforts. She leans back against the couch, shaking her head in amusement.
"You're a bitch," she says, her voice filled with affectionate reproach. "But I have to admit, watching her try so hard is kind of entertaining." You shrug casually, reclining deeper into the plush cushions and crossing your legs elegantly. The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the room, but your focus remains unfazed.
"Let her have her fun," you say dismissively, casting another glance toward Rafe and Sofia. Rafe catches your eye for a brief moment, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before he returns his attention to Sofia's endless chatter.
Noticing the exchange, Steph nudges you playfully with her elbow. "Did you see that? He's totally just humouring her." You can't help but smile, a satisfied glimmer in your eyes. "Of course he is. Rafe knows exactly what he's doing." Steph laughs, reaching over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl between you.
You chuckle, picking up your drink and swirling the contents with a slow, deliberate motion, your gaze thoughtful yet amused. "I give her another ten minutes before she storms off in a huff. Or," you pause, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips, "if Rafe really wants to play, he could stretch it out for a couple of days."
Steph’s eyes widen in delight at the suggestion, and the two of you share a conspiratorial look before bursting into giggles. "Poor girl," Steph sighs, her voice dripping with mock sympathy as she lifts her glass for a sip. "She should know better than to go for someone who’s clearly out of her league."
You nod in agreement, the edges of your smirk softening into something almost pitying. "She’s just setting herself up for disappointment," you remark, your tone laced with a hint of amusement. "But I suppose she’ll learn that the hard way."
~
"Did you invite her?" you ask, slipping on your rings one by one, the cool metal sliding smoothly over your fingers. "Who?" Rafe replies, a hint of confusion in his voice as he buttons up his shirt, making his way over to you at your vanity. You catch his eye in the reflection of the mirror, giving him a pointed look.
"Oh, Sofia? Yeah, I did. Why?" he says, finally understanding. He leans down, pressing a trail of soft kisses along your bare shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. You hum in acknowledgment, the feel of his lips against your skin momentarily distracts you, and you close your eyes for a brief second.
"You look good," Rafe murmurs against your neck, his breath hot and close as he inhales the intoxicating scent of your perfume—a fragrance he knows all too well, one that lingers in his thoughts long after you’ve gone. A slow smile curves your lips, your confidence unwavering. "When don't I?" you tease, your tone light.
He chuckles deeply, the sound resonating through his chest as he straightens up, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. "True," he concedes, his voice filled with a hint of amusement. He glances at his watch, calculating the time with practiced ease. "Think we have time?" he suggests, his tone dropping slightly.
You know exactly what he means, and the suggestion sends a thrill of excitement through you. With a playful roll of your eyes, you nod, your smile widening as you turn to face him, your eyes meeting his with a mix of anticipation and mischief.
~
After one final glance in the mirror, satisfied with your appearance, you step out of your shared room with Rafe. Your heels click rhythmically on the wooden floor, each step echoing through the hallway as you make your way outside for the party.
As you turn the corner, lost in thought, you suddenly collide with someone. The impact is gentle but enough to jolt you from your thoughts. "Oh, I’m so sorry—" a soft voice quickly apologises, and you find yourself face-to-face with Sofia.
Her wide eyes are filled with surprise and a hint of nervousness as she looks up at you, her hands instinctively reaching out as if to steady you, though it's clear she’s the one who’s flustered. For a brief moment, you both stand there, the awkwardness hanging in the air like a heavy curtain.
"Sofia, thought I might see you here," you say, your smile tight but polite, the kind of smile that masks a multitude of thoughts. Sofia’s cheeks flush slightly as she smiles nervously. "Yeah, um—Rafe invited me," she explains, her voice wavering just a touch. You nod slowly, taking in her words with an air of detachment. "Uh-huh, Rafe invited you," you repeat, your tone carrying a subtle note of mockery.
Sofia’s expression shifts to one of uneasy recognition as she nods in confirmation. Your gaze narrows slightly. "And apparently Rafe is really into you and has forgotten all about me?" you continue, your tone sharp as you echo the words that have been circulating and eventually found their way back to you.
Sofia’s eyes widen, her nervousness now palpable as she struggles for words. "I—uh—" she stammers, clearly taken aback by your direct approach. You scoff, your expression shifting to one of disbelief. "Did you really think you could get away with saying that?" you ask, your voice dripping with a mix of disdain and frustration as you cross your arms over your chest.
Sofia’s face flushes as she tries to regain her composure, her voice shaky. "What? No—I didn’t say that. I don’t know where you heard that from—" You let out a chuckle, a low, almost mocking sound that underscores your disbelief. "You know," you say, shrugging nonchalantly, "I always knew you were a bit of a whore."
Your eyes narrow, the harshness of your words cutting through the tension. "But I didn’t take you for a liar, too." Sofia’s eyes widen in shock, her mouth parting as if she’s struggling to find a response. The impact of your words hangs heavy in the air, leaving her visibly rattled.
"I was fine with you getting my boyfriend's attention, or at least trying to" you begin, your voice steady but laced with a touch of exasperation. "It was actually pretty entertaining to watch, but now you've just pissed me off." You let out a sigh, your arms falling back to your sides.
"Don’t talk to him again, yeah?" you add, your smile sweet but carrying an underlying menace. As you walk past her, the satisfaction in your step is palpable. Sofia’s eyes follow you, a mix of anger and humiliation flickering across her face.
You step into the lively party, where the energy contrasts sharply with the tension you just left behind. Rafe is waiting for you, a welcoming arm draped around your shoulders. He offers you a cup with his drink, his expression full of warmth and concern. "Everything all good?" he asks, his voice low and reassuring.
You hum in response, your gaze shifting to where Sofia is making her way out of the hallway and down the stairs. From behind the rim of the solo cup, you allow a satisfied smile to curve your lips, the small victory settling comfortably within you.
864 notes · View notes
xxsabitoxx · 8 months
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Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z
Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)
Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)
A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 
Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 
1K notes · View notes
riizegasm · 19 days
Text
Impure Intentions || L. CY (Anton)
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❀ pairing: chaebol heir!anton x rival!reader, implied fem!reader
❀ genre: enemies to lovers (but not really), fluff, suggestive
❀ word count: ~6.7k
❀ warnings: explicit language, mentions of dysfunctional families, one heated kiss scene
❀ summary: From the day you were born, all you ever heard was, “don’t fall in love with Anton Lee.” A better heir to a multimillion dollar conglomerate would follow their family’s advice. But you…not so much.
❀ a/n: sheesh, talk about writer’s block. This work has taken me so long and so much effort, but i'm very proud of how it turned out! It may have even helped me out of my slump. Also, please don’t judge me too hard. I know nothing about business and corporate families!!! As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are strongly encouraged. Happy reading!
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Your head aches. The lights in the banquet hall are too bright and the clink of gilded silverware is too loud. Polite chatter buzzes around you like a pesky fly evading a swatter. The air is suffocating, overly stuffy with high end perfumes and colognes clouding the space. This is torture; the Lee family banquets always are.
It would be better if you could enjoy the food or engage with the various guests like everyone else does, but this is enemy territory. Your family had made it abundantly clear that this was not an event for fun, but rather for scoping out the competition. Lectures about a corporate acquisition going south and details about poor contracting simply entered in one ear and left via the other. You didn’t care why you had to be there. The knowledge of your forced attendance did enough to damper your mood, especially once you were hit with all of the rules around your presence.
Sit still, look pretty, smile politely, eavesdrop on any corporate plans, and don’t talk to Anton Lee.
You never understood your family’s obsession with keeping you away from him, the prized son and heir of the Lee empire. Everyone made sure to fill your mind with negative opinions and baseless rumors about the young man, as if to deter you from even giving him a chance. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however. You’ve never even seen the man, let alone had a conversation with him. Anton Lee was much more of a mythical being than he was a person, in your eyes. He was always whispered about, but never seen.
From what you gathered, he was around your age, tall, broad, and supposedly extremely handsome. He was known for his overly harsh demeanor, rumored to command a room with a simple word. His presence apparently spoke volumes, enough to speak to his blunt nature and bad intentions. It made sense, your parents would always say. After all, he is a Lee.
“Fix your face, honey,” your mother snaps with a forced smile. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles before you turn thirty if you keep scowling like that.”
It takes everything in you to fight an eye roll, biting back the string of expletives waiting on the tip of your tongue. “Sorry. I’m going to run to the powder room.”
You don’t bother to wait for her response before excusing yourself from the cocktail table, getting lost in the crowds of people as you head towards the bathroom. Away from your family, the air feels somewhat lighter, although it still reeks of entitlement. The throb in your head is insistent now, forcing you to escape to find relief.
You find yourself heading towards a set of grandiose double doors, hoping they will lead you anywhere but here. Luckily, your prayers are answered as you step through them onto a stone balcony. The crisp nighttime air does wonders to cool your heated skin, a slight breeze ruffling the loose fabric of your dress.
This is exactly what you needed, space and solace.
“Rough night?”
A soft voice makes you jump out of your skin, whipping your head around to find the source. Its owner leans up against the exterior wall, somewhat bathed in shadow. All you can make out is a glimmer of white teeth, reflecting the moonlight.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the figure apologizes, taking a small step forward into the light.
You feel your breath stutter in your chest as you take in the man. The first thing you notice is his sheer beauty, lips enticingly full and nose broad. His beauty is complemented by his tall stature, the height difference between you two becoming increasingly apparent as he approaches. Like this, bathed in the moonlight, it’s impossible not to notice the broadness of his shoulders and how they taper into a small waist. He fills out his all black suit beautifully, the garments clearly tailored to his every curve.
“Are you alright?” The man asks, stopping only a few feet away.
The concern in his tone is just enough to snap you out of your reverie.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, um, needed some air.”
The man nods in understanding, leaning over to place his forearms against the balcony’s railing. You struggle not to eye the way his suit jacket stretches across an impossibly wide back. Instead, you mirror his stance, looking out at the beautiful gardens below, bathed in silvery moonlight. Just beyond the seemingly endless maze of hedges, you can make out what looks like a small lake, it’s surface rippling under the nighttime breeze. 
“It can be stuffy in there,” the man says softly. 
You find yourself hanging onto his every word, shocked that such a mild tone could come from such an intimidating man. “Yeah, it really can be.”
The man lets out a small chuckle, no doubt amused by your clear annoyance. “So I take it you’re not in the business.”
“No, I’m–,” you pause for a moment, not sure how much of your identity you should reveal to the stranger. “I’m related.”
He chuckles again, this time turning to look at you. “Hm, I guess I could say the same for me, then.”
A round of applause sounds from somewhere inside, and you curse under your breath, knowing your family will kill you for your absence. The man next to you seems unphased, as if he’s used to the party going on without him.
“I think I should get back.”
The man flashes you a smile, its brightness almost blinding in the dark. “That’s okay. It was nice chatting with you…”
“Y/N. And you are?”
“Anton,” he whispers. “I hope I can see you again, Y/N.”
An icy chill travels up your spine, momentarily freezing you in place. But you force yourself to remain composed, plastering a smile on your face. You silently thank your years of etiquette training and the countless social events you have had to smile for. With a slight nod of your head, you disappear back through the double doors, instantly choking on the scent of Chanel No. 5.
.        .        .
It’s easy to believe that your first encounter with Anton Lee would be your last, especially as the weeks pass without a single sign of him. It makes sense that he wouldn’t start making regular appearances at events after attending just once. He has managed to spend twenty years staying out of the spotlight, and you can’t imagine that changing now. 
But, for some reason, you can’t help but search for him in the crowd of every gala or at the tables of any grandiose banquet.
He would be easy to spot, with his overwhelming height and dazzling smile. Maybe his honey brown hair would be slicked back off his forehead this time, or maybe it would hang in front of his eyes to conceal his bright gaze. You’re sure that he would still talk in that overly soft tone of his, somehow managing to command a room without a change in volume. 
Even his absence begins to feel like a presence in and of itself, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You tell yourself that it’s simple intrigue and nothing more. The first time you had ever laid eyes on your supposed family nemesis had been on a balcony bathed in the moonlight. Where had he been all these years?
More importantly, why had he disappeared again?
The question runs through your mind as you accept a flute of champagne from a waiter, eyes flitting around the charity dinner in hopes of spotting a specific someone. Somewhere near the front of the banquet hall, the Lee family is seated at a table with a few other wealthy families, but their oldest son is nowhere to be found. 
You crane your neck to get a better look. Just to be sure, you tell yourself. But the contorting you force yourself to do has you leaning right back into a waiter, your elbow knocking into his empty tray. The sudden movement has your champagne flute slipping out of your grasp, icy bubbles splattering across your chest and down the front of your dress. You can practically feel the daggers that your mother is shooting you from across the table, always having scolded you about the embarrassment that comes along with being a klutz. Before she can part her lips to tell you off, you excuse yourself politely, dashing out to find a restroom to freshen up. 
You let your heeled feet carry you through a maze of hallways, side stepping waiters and party guests as you move further and further away from the event space. It’s only when you travel down a flight of stairs that you find yourself a seemingly private restroom, briefly stepping inside to clean yourself up. No matter how much you dab at the stain in the center of your bust, the wine doesn’t seem to budge. You thank the heavens that it was champagne instead of a red, saving you some degree of embarrassment.
After a few minutes in the restroom, you find yourself wandering around, ending up in a much more secluded lounge space, equipped with a couple of couches surrounding a coffee table. You immediately collapse onto one, sighing as the ache in your feet finally lifts. 
It’s only then that you feel your eyes begin to sting, a familiar rush of heat striking your face as a lump begins to form in your throat. The sticky sweet smell of champagne still clings to your body, your dress uncomfortable where the alcohol seeped into it. You’re sure that you look a mess, knowing that tear smudged makeup would be the last thing to complete your disheveled look. 
“Another rough night?”
The soft rasp of a voice instantly has you perking up, breath caught in your throat as you take in the tall figure approaching you. His crisply pressed suit hugs his broad shoulders and cinches at an impossibly small waist. His lips are quirked upwards into a small smirk, clearly teasing. Something about it is enticing, setting off a stampede in your stomach.
“How could you tell?” You mumble, trying not to stare as Anton settles into a lounge chair across from you.
The man’s smirk just deepens. “Wild guess. What happened?”
“I spilled champagne on myself and now I look a mess.”
“You don’t,” Anton states, smirk dropping from his face. “You could never look bad.”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “How would you even know that? You’ve only seen me twice.”
Anton chuckles, finally relaxing into the plush of his chair. His legs separate ever so slightly at the action, allowing you to admire his mile-long legs. It’s almost frustrating, how perfect he looks. You imagine that if anyone never looks bad, it’s him.
“I’ve seen you way more than twice, Y/N.”
The simple statement has you turning your eyes away from his figure, meeting his open gaze. He seems so casual, so unbothered, as if that one sentence hasn’t turned your world upside down.
“Wait, what?” You find yourself tripping over your words in the rush to get them out. “Wh-what do you mean you’ve seen me more than twice? I only met you the first time at that contracting dinner a few weeks ago.”
Anton chuckles again, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “Yeah, that was the first time we’ve met, but I’ve seen you so many times. You and your family have been at every major event since we were kids. How could I not see you?”
“But, I’ve never–,”
“I know,” Anton interrupts. “I like to stay outside or in whatever lounge areas I can find. These things always make me really anxious.”
Wow, you didn’t expect such an honest admission from a man of Anton’s status. If anything, his candor makes him much more attractive, as if he could get even more perfect.
“You know we’re supposed to hate each other?” He asks, a small smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Apparently you’re my rival in the field, and I’m supposed to hate everything you say and do.”
Unfortunately, you know the feeling, causing you to let out a small giggle. “Oh trust me, I know. Do you, though?”
“Hate you?”
You nod, fighting a smile as Anton pretends to think.
“Nah,” he eventually answers. “My grandfather taught me from a very young age that I should never harbor negative feelings for beautiful women.”
The implication has heat rushing to your face, forcing you to struggle to keep your composure. “Well, my family has always told me that attractive men always have impure intentions.”
Anton chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He takes a beat before standing, letting his eyes rake over your still seated figure as he begins to retreat down the hallway. It’s impossible to decipher where the intensity of his gaze stems from. He eyes you as if he were hungry, trapping you against the couch with his stare alone.
“Then let me show you just how impure my intentions are.”
The man is gone with little more than a wink and a smile, leaving you with warm cheeks and the scent of champagne clouding your nose. 
.        .        .
You’re surprised to see Anton as soon as the next event, only three weeks later. It’s a simple charity ball for some rare disease research, but for some reason, Anton has decided not to hide in the shadows for this event. It’s interesting to watch how despite his supposed anxiety, he is clearly in his element. He greets everyone kindly, shooting various guests a charming smile as he is introduced to them. His father looks proud of him, a hand kept clapped over his shoulder the entire time. 
You wonder if he’s comfortable like this, with a blur of people and faces constantly passing by him. However, you are instantly snapped out of your wondering when a manicured hand grips your shoulder. The feeling of your mothers lips close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine, a perpetually bad omen. 
“Straighten up,” she scolds. “We’re going over to talk to the Lees. Their son is making a public appearance at an event like this for the first time. No funny business.”
You would laugh if not for the uncomfortable way her nails dig into your shoulder. It forces you to instantly fall in line behind your father, taking a deep breath as you get closer to the Lees. What is only a few seconds feels like hours until you finally stand face to face with your supposed rival. 
“Yoon Sang, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” your father greets, shaking the hands of the head of the Lee family. 
He even leans in to place a friendly kiss on Mrs. Lee’s cheek. You find yourself standing frozen in place as the parents exchange greetings, unable to do anything but stare at the man before you. He sports his signature charming smile, mouth full of perfectly white teeth on display. Not for the first time, you feel your face grow warm. 
“We thought it was about time for our Y/N to meet Anton. After all, they will be competitors when they take over the respective businesses, right?”
Your father’s comment snaps you back to attention. However, you are immediately distracted by the feeling of Anton’s large hand engulfing yours, his palm both warm and surprisingly soft to the touch. You have to glance upwards to meet his eyes, but it’s impossible to miss the amused glint in his stare. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I have heard so much about you.”
You force a smile on your face. “The pleasure is all mine.”
It’s easy to tune out the conversation after that, letting the adults blabber on while you reminisce about the feeling of Anton’s hand in yours. The man seems to be similarly distracted, clearly eyeing your figure. The silence between you speaks volumes, and you hope your parents are too deaf to hear it. 
“We would love to have Anton over at our headquarters sometime,” your mother suggests, her piercing voice rising above the noise of the ball. “I’m sure Y/N would be happy to show him around!”
You don’t even have time to process the full body panic that begins to overcome you before Anton’s family is readily agreeing. 
“I agree that it would be great for them to know the ins and outs of the business,” Mr. Lee replies with an overly saccharine smile. “We would love to have Y/N over for lunch at the estate as well. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find themselves to be friends.”
Your dad chuckles, obviously disgusted by the thought. “You’re so right. The two might even do a merger some day!”
As the group erupts into phony laughter, you feel the beginnings of a migraine tingling behind your left eye. Something about the cacophony of laughs and the dull classical music is making you ache, your stomach starting to swim with nausea. You dare a glance upward, fighting the pain that blooms in your head with the motion. 
Anton’s gaze is bright where it meets yours, a soft smile poised on his full lips. His cheeks are dusted with a slight blush, clearly flustered by the implications. There’s a slight fidget in his fingers, twirling expensive rings as a means of soothing himself. 
He’s cute, you realize, not for the first time. 
It’s only after a few more moments that the families say goodbye, the Lees promising to send a lunch invitation soon. Anton shoots you another smile before he follows behind his family, suddenly looking small despite his large stature. You can’t help but smile as you watch his departure, suddenly realizing that your migraine has disappeared. 
.         .         .
The Lee estate is just as gorgeous as you expected it to be, with tall stone gates and artfully placed landscaping. It looks impossibly large from where you’re seated in the car, causing nerves to begin to creep up your spine. You pass off the butterflies that begin to flutter in your core as obvious intimidation that comes with being on the property of your family’s biggest rivals. It surely has nothing to do with an overly soft voice, broad shoulders, and kind eyes. 
“Remember,” your mother had told you before sending you off. “This is business. Reveal nothing and absorb everything. And most importantly, remember that Anton Lee is not your friend.”
You take a step out onto the perfectly paved driveway, surprised to already see someone standing by the door. Anton seems to perk up when you lock eyes, shooting you a polite smile. His wave betrays his excitement, though. You imagine that if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging. 
“Y/N, hey! I’m glad you actually came.”
“Please,” you shoot him a cheeky smile. “As if I could ever turn down an invitation from the Lee family.”
Anton lets out a slight groan. “Don’t remind me that this is ‘business.’”
“Well then what would you like for me to call it?”
Anton shrugs, turning to hold the front door open for you. It’s only when you pass through the threshold, Anton still standing behind you that he responds. 
“A lunch date.” Before you have the chance to respond, Anton is shutting the door behind you both. “Come this way. Food’s on the patio.”
It takes a few turns down intricate hallways to get to a set of double doors that lead to the patio. As promised, there’s an assortment of sandwiches and salad laid out on a round table, two seats set across from each other. You would be impressed, if not for the even more stunning view that lay before you. 
The patio looks out on sprawling gardens, tall bushes and blooming flowers swaying softly in the breeze. A little beyond the landscaping, a wooden dock leads out to a large pond, its greenish-blue water seemingly sparkling under the midday sun. 
“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe out, unable to take your eyes off the sight before you. 
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? My parents have always had an affinity for water.”
You imagine that all of their properties have pools or lakes, much like this one. Meanwhile, your own family prefers the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle, never expanding beyond brutalist modern penthouses in the tallest apartment buildings in the city. It must be nice, you imagine, to have a space that feels like a home and not just another office. 
Eventually, the two of you sit, settling into a comfortable silence as you distribute food amongst yourselves. It’s quite amusing to watch Anton as he eats, clearly possessing the hunger of a growing young man while forcing himself to take small bites and practice the etiquette of an heir. You wonder if you look the same, so obviously restrained while you want to let loose, if only for a bit. 
Despite the fact that you haven’t seen another person since you set foot in the Lee estate, you know that people must be somewhere. There are always eyes on you. 
“I’m surprised that your family was so adamant about having me over,” you begin, settling back in your chair. “I thought I was the enemy.”
Anton smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well you know what they say. Keep the enemy close and all that.”
“Is that what you want to do? Keep me close?”
You know you’re treading in dangerous waters. All it would take is one word about the obvious flirting to Anton’s parents for you to become your family’s disgrace. You can practically see the headline now: Conglomerate Heiress Gets Rejected By Rivals’ Son. Your family would disown you. And yet, as color begins to flood Anton’s cheeks, you can’t find it within yourself to care. 
“Yeah,” he says, voice coming out even softer than usual. “I think that is what I want to do.”
You duck your head, clearing your throat in an attempt to settle the flutter in your stomach. “I’d like that.”
A sudden interest in lunch leaves both of you munching away in silence. It’s peaceful, despite blushing cheeks and racing heartbeats. It allows you to realize that being around Anton is unlike being around anyone else in your family’s circle. Here, there’s no pressure to be prim and proper, no pressure to listen out for secret ins and outs of business. 
It’s odd to find comfort in the one person who is supposed to bring you anything but. And yet, with the warmth of the sun on your face and the pleasant fullness in your belly, you’ve never felt more at home. 
“You know,” Anton starts once you have both cleared your plates. “I think we’re supposed to be talking about business.”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Can I be honest?”
Anton nods slightly, honey brown hair shifting across his forehead. 
“The business is the last thing I want to talk about.”
Anton smiles. “Trust me, I feel the same way.”
There’s a beat of silence, the two of you content to simply sit as the breeze ruffles the flowers that dot the landscape. When Anton speaks again, you watch his mouth, noting the way that his lips hold the same hue of the red tulips in the nearby flower bed. 
“Can I show you something?”
The simple question has your gaze flickering back upwards, trying to ignore the way your heart races when his eyes meet yours.
“Sure,” you whisper, words instantly carried away by the wind. 
Following behind Anton through the grass proves to be harder than you imagined, his long legs allowing him to move with a grace and speed that is difficult to match. He leads you in between a maze of flower beds, bringing you deeper into the garden until you’re surrounded by tall hedges on either side. From here, it’s impossible to see the house, so you just continue to follow behind Anton. You find yourself eyeing the broadness of his shoulders and the way his shirt shifts across the muscles of his back as he walks. It’s hypnotizing, so much so that you don’t realize that you have arrived at your destination. 
“This is my thinking spot,” Anton says with a little flutter of his arms, clearly trying to present the space to you. 
The hedge maze has opened up to a small central pocket, not housing much except for a small fountain and a stone bench. Anton is quick to take a seat, motioning for you to occupy the space next to him. It’s a bit of a squeeze, putting you and Anton close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin on your own. You dig your nails into the stone of the bench, hoping that it will steel your nerves. 
“I like to come out here when my parents get in my head about the business. It’s pretty peaceful.”
“Yeah,” you say softly, despite knowing that no one is within earshot. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it really is.”
There’s an airiness to Anton’s voice that has you turning to face him. You take in a sharp inhale when you notice that his eyes are already on you, the close proximity leaving your faces mere inches away from each other. The overwhelming rush of blood in your ears forces you to turn away, taking a deep breath to calm your thundering heartbeat. 
“You take all the girls here?” You aim for teasing, but the slight break in your voice makes it err more on the side of desperation. 
Anton shakes his head earnestly. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here who isn’t my family.”
The admission feels like a sucker punch to the gut. Except there’s no pain, just a rush of warmth that climbs up your throat like ivy. Anton is clearly surprised as well, his own words deepening the pretty flush that has taken hold on his cheeks. His bottom lip is trapped by his teeth, its plushness oh so enticing in the afternoon sun. 
“Y-you know,” you stutter out, swallowing thickly before continuing. “When you said you had impure intentions, I thought you were joking.”
“I don’t think I could joke about how bad I want you.”
It should feel like a corny line. It should feel like something he says to all the girls. After all, he’s Anton Lee. He could get anyone he wanted at the drop of a hat. So why does it feel so real when he says it to you? Why does it feel like those words are meant for you, and only you?
Anton’s gravity is pulling you closer, allowing you to lean further into his space. You’re close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, coming out in gentle puffs that reveal just how fast his heart is racing. He has released his bottom lip by now, leaving it glossy with saliva. It’s impossible not to anticipate the smooth glide of it against your own. 
A sudden vibration snaps you both out of your bubble, the two of you popping apart as if you were repelling magnets. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the vibration is coming from your own phone, buzzing incessantly. You shoot Anton an apologetic look before stepping away to take the call. 
“We need you back home,” your mother rushes from the other side of the line, not bothering to waste time greeting you. “Your father wants to hear about your business with the Lees before he heads to his strategy meeting in an hour.”
“But the Lee house is thirty minutes away!”
You can practically hear your mother’s eye roll over the phone. “Then you better get going.”
.         .         .
Business meeting, my house at 4pm?
The text comes as both a surprise and the most expected invitation in the world. In your flurry to leave his house the week before, you had made sure to leave the man with your number. In turn, he smiled wide, promising to invite you over for another “business meeting” soon. 
Before you can inquire about how much business will actually be necessary to discuss, your phone buzzed again. 
My parents just left for a business trip to Milan. 
A flutter rushes through your stomach at the implications. It’s clear what that means, that the two of you will finally have a chance to act on your chemistry without the watchful eyes of competitive families. The two of you will finally get to exist as your own people, and not as rivals and heirs of major global conglomerates. 
The thought alone has you spending extra time on your appearance as you get ready. You make sure your hair sits just right and that your lips are perfectly glossy before pulling on a swimsuit and heading over. You try your best to remain as still as possible during the entire ride there, knowing that nerves in combination with the late summer heat will be enough to set you aflame. 
Your heart is slamming in your chest by the time you finally pull into Anton’s driveway. It’s accompanied by a soft flutter of affection when you spot Anton’s figure, waving at you from the doorway. The wide smile on his face alone is enough to melt you. But the relaxed fit of his muscle tee and the way his swim shorts sit low on his hips has your face flooding with heat. 
He greets you with a tight hug when you cross the threshold into the house. You try not to swoon at the firm pressure of his arms around your torso, ignoring the heat of his bare skin on your own. Anton had never touched you before, not beyond a simple handshake exchanged in front of parents, always respectful to a fault. For the first time, you find yourself grateful for that fact, knowing that now that you’ve had a taste of his touch, you will forever be addicted. 
“I’m so happy to see you,” Anton gushes. “My parents have been really getting on my nerves about business and competition lately.”
“So you decided to invite the competition over to chill?”
Anton smiles, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “No, I invited the competition over to swim!”
So that’s why he reminded you to wear a bathing suit mere minutes before you left for his house. It makes sense, from the minimal texts that the two of you exchanged. Anton was always excited about the balanced heat of late summer, citing it as the perfect time for a lakeside swim. You wouldn’t know, of course, never having the luxury of having a lake in your backyard.
“What about your staff?”
“I let everyone have the afternoon off,” Anton responds proudly before letting his smile sink into something softer, more private. “I just wanted us to have some time alone.”
The simple admission rings out loudly in the otherwise quiet house. It’s clear how badly Anton wants this, how bad he wants your company despite the taboo that comes with it. Unsurprisingly, you find yourself wanting it just as bad, if not more. You’ve never craved anyone’s presence the way you have craved Anton’s, despite him being the one person in the world that you supposedly need to keep your distance from.
A small nod on your end is enough for Anton’s smile to grow once again, pearly whites on full display as his eyes wrinkle at the corners. The sight alone has your heart beating a little harder in your chest, the minor flutter in your abdomen growing into a full stampede of emotions. The feeling only intensifies as Anton engulfs your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he leads you out into the backyard.
The late afternoon sun sparkles against the water, illuminating everything in a blue-yellow glow. It’s the most captivating sight for miles, you’re sure, until Anton begins to take his shirt off. The way his muscles shift under his unblemished skin rivals the beautiful surface of the lake, sparkling in its own way. His shoulder blades dance across his back enticingly as he leans down to remove his socks and shoes.
He shoots you a smile over his shoulder before cannonballing right into the water.
It takes only a few seconds for the man to reemerge, slicking his honey brown hair off of his forehead. His biceps bulge with the movement before waving you into the water. It’s as clear of a signal as any, but you can’t help but hesitate, suddenly shy at the thought of stripping down to your bikini in the presence of such a man. But the delicate reflection of sunlight in his eyes and the easy smile on his face is enough to draw you in.
Before you know it, you’re discarding your clothes, taking a running head start to join Anton in the water.
Your skin is submerged in an icy chill, the water surprisingly cool for so late in the day. But soon the warmth of another body is nearing, making the cold that much more bearable. You resurface with a giggle, giddy from the feeling of swimming so long. Instantly, Anton is joining in, clearly happy seeing you filled with such glee. 
“Fuck, it’s cold!” You exclaim, shrieking when Anton splashes a bit of water your way. 
“It’ll get better,” Anton grins. “You just gotta keep swimming.”
It’s easy to do as told, letting your body relax as you continue to wade in the cool water. Eventually you let yourself fall into your back, feeling the contrast between the warm sun on your face and the cool water surrounding your body. It’s serene, allowing you to let your worries quite literally float away. However, the feeling of a chilled hand grazing your hip is enough to snap you out of your relaxation, scrambling to right yourself in panic. 
“Sorry!” Anton chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just getting bored without you.”
“It’s okay,” you soothe, finding that the pace of your heart is beginning to quicken for an entirely different reason. 
Anton looks especially beautiful like this, with his damp hair splayed messily across his head and drops of water dripping down his face. The sun has just begun to set, painting Anton’s skin with a beautiful golden hue. His eyes glisten just like the water, sunlight sparkling as it dances across the reflective surfaces. Like this, Anton seems so bright, so luminous, that hating him seems impossible. 
“I’m really glad you came today,” Anton says, his voice dropping to that soft shy tone he always uses in the presence of others. “I’m glad to have someone who gets what it's like.”
You can’t resist the smile that begins to tug on the corners of your mouth. “You’re not just saying this to get my family’s business secrets?”
Anton huffs out a laugh. “No. I’m saying this because I really like you. I like spending time with you, even though I’m supposed to hate it.”
With every word, you find yourself drifting closer to the man, his hand remaining steady on your hip as you tread lightly. Despite the obvious effort to keep your head above water, you feel like you’re drowning. But the slick feeling of Anton’s skin against yours reminds you that you won’t drown. Anton won’t let you. 
“I like you, too.”
The simple admission has Anton’s face flushing, the pretty rose color glistening orange in the light. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. You hate to dull his beauty in this moment, but you have to. 
“But what about our families? It’s not like the two of us can ever be anything.”
Anton sighs, his face dropping with realization. “I know, but…is it crazy to say that I don’t care?”
The hand on your hip tightens, pulling you even closer into Anton’s space. It’s close enough that the two of you end up bumping knees every so often, constantly moving to keep yourselves afloat. Here, in his space, you can see the way that his lashes cast subtle shadows on his cheeks. It’s easy to count the few moles that pepper his face and neck, sitting stark upon unblemished skin. 
When his eyes meet yours, it becomes clear what you wish to do. No, what you need to do. 
“Anton,” you whisper. “What did you mean when you said you had impure intentions?”
The man moves to open his mouth, but before he can get the first syllable out, you cut him off. 
“Don’t tell me,” you coo. “Show me.”
You would be lying if you said you never thought about the feeling of Anton’s plush lips on yours. In reality, you spent too many nights lying awake, thinking about the slick feel of his mouth on yours, of the way his large hands would feel clutching onto your body, of the feel of his soft brown strands underneath your fingertips. 
But dreams never compare to the real thing. 
Nothing could compare to the pure bliss of having Anton’s mouth slide against your own. He moves fervently, letting the kiss carry the twinge of desperation that you both have felt since you’ve met. It’s far from the polite way that you expected Anton Lee to kiss, but that makes it that much better. 
His nose grazes your cheek as he tilts his head, angling himself to kiss you deeper. His tongue is warm as it eases its way into your mouth, the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill of the lake. The hand that was once grasping your hip travels down to your backside and thigh, lifting you up to wrap yourself around his waist. It’s improper, at the very least, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Anton sighs softly into your mouth. 
It feels like ages before the two of you part, chests heaving where they remain pressed together. You’re so close that you imagine that even water can’t exist between you two. Anton’s abdomen is solid where your core is pressed up against him, supporting your weight so that neither of you are at risk of sinking. 
“That,” Anton whispers, “is what I meant by impure intentions. 
You can’t help but giggle at the boy’s breathless tone, suddenly feeling giddy that you were the one to make him this way. You were the one to fluster the ever-perfect Anton Lee. It was you. It’s always been you. 
“Our parents…” you mutter reflexively, your mind a war zone. 
“Hey,” Anton coos, bringing a hand under your chin. 
With just a gentle tilt, you meet his eyes, instantly getting lost in the way his gaze bores into yours. As if he can’t help himself, Anton leans in to place a quick peck on your lips. When you part, a soft whine escapes your lips, mourning the loss of your lover’s kiss. 
“Y/N, we’ll figure it out. I won’t let this go south because of our parents.”
You nod nervously, trying your hardest to believe in the reassurance that Anton is trying to provide you. As if he could sense the residual nerves, Anton presses his lips against your forehead in a soft kiss. The sensation makes your eyes flutter shut, a content smile beginning to grown on your face. After a brief moment, Anton chuckles. 
“Who knows?” He mutters. “Maybe our parents will get that merger after all.”
.         .         .
[8 years later]
BREAKING NEWS: Lee Enterprises and TOTAL, Inc. have announced a historic merger to form one mega-corporation. This announcement comes one year after CEO and President of Lee Enterprises, Anton Lee, and Chairperson of TOTAL, Inc., Y/N Y/L/N, announced their marriage. The new multinational conglomerate will be known as Lakeside, LLC, and is said to have a current stock value of over five billion dollars.
.FIN.
418 notes · View notes
klausysworld · 2 months
Note
I know it's a bit random, but I just had an idea for a Klaus story, which is that Reader goes on a long trip with Klaus and his siblings but they only have one car and Reader has to sit in Klaus lap due to space constraints. Reader and Klaus are kinda friends because she is Elena's little sister, but he often confidently flirts with her, but when she sits on his lap he unintentionally gets hard and that makes him super embarrassed. She notices and he apologizes quietly, trying to make sure his siblings don't notice + smut in the end
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According To Plan
The mikaelson's originally ruined my life. They crash landed into an already chaotic town and destroyed it. First Elijah, then Klaus, then Rebekah, then Mikael, then Kol, Finn and finally Esther.
They put my sister, Elena, at risk all of the time and rarely cared about anyone but themselves. They didn't even care about each other...well I thought they didn't.
Klaus and Elijah scared me for a while and put me on edge because I knew I wasn't significant enough to keep alive but when Rebekah ended up out of her coffin and in town, she seemed to take a liking to me and that got be sucked into all of their family drama.
It started because I was the only girl in school that didn't just pretend she wasn't there. Despite her having a clear hatred toward Elena, she hadn't actually done anything harmful at that point so I didn't see why we were being cruel to her first.
I didn't expect to become her best and only friend in town after that day.
Rebekah hadn't ever laid a threatening hand on me, never spoke low of me or used me for information. She genuinely wanted a friend and I could feel that. I wasn't gonna turn her away because she was Klaus's sister, not until she did something that made her awful.
So I stuck about, helped her pick a homecoming dress which she didn't even get to go to which I was not happy about and neither was Klaus which he made abundantly clear when he accused me of hurting her.
I found her a while later in Damon's dumbass basement, knew I couldn't just wake her up without consequences so made a deal with Klaus. Bex's safety for Jeremy''s safety so I could justify it to Elena and her gang. He went with it and everything worked.
Until this stupid fuck decided to stick her back in a coffin and wait it out.
Shit went down when all the Mikaelsons were up and about. Bekah had me at the mansion the night after her siblings and mother were woken. Klaus and Kol were constantly bickering whilst Elijah looked paler than...well paler than usual and very anxious but Rebekah just shrugged it off. She was just happy to have her mother.
And also to throw a ball.
I was forced to get tailored and have a colour theory assessment to figure what colour, style and fabric my dress needed to be. Elena had always been my mother's focus, she was her miracle, her eldest. So Elena got to have her hair styled, nails done, dresses designed and I would sit at home with my hand-me-downs and Jeremy's toys that I'd steal. It was kinda nice to be dressed up and pretty. I had stared in the mirror for so long, picking every detail apart trying to decide if I loved it because it was me or loved it because it wasn't really me at all. That's when Klaus appeared in the doorway.
"Everyone's arriving, love. Rebekah's downstairs greeting people and waiting ever so eagerly for her dreary date but she wanted me to make sure you came down." He explained the situation and I nodded, taking a breath and heading out the room, brushing past him as I did. The door was pushed shut and he fell in step beside me. "You look gorgeous by the way." He muttered and I rolled my eyes.
"You practicing your lines for when Caroline gets here?" I asked and he let out a breath.
"No, I meant it." He argued and smirked to himself as he took my arm, pulling it to wrap around his own and 'helping' me down the staircase.
"Sure you did. But I wouldn't say 'gorgeous' to Caroline. She already knows she is, pick something a little less common." I muttered and his brows furrowed.
"Like what?" he questioned and I shrugged.
"I don't know...maybe like....ravishing" I whispered, dramatically and sarcastically as we got to the bottom and I let go of his arm, spotting Rebekah looking moody. "Good luck" I gave a thumbs up and he hummed.
"You too."
I won't lie, I did laugh when I overheard him actually call her ravishing. Rebekah didn't get it and just complained about how great Caroline looked, to which I just scoffed and told Bex to go look in the mirror and get a reality check.
The whole dance thing came around and I ended up starting with Kol which was way too funny, he would not stop. Klaus did not look amused when we swapped partners and I was spun into his arms next.
"Believe me, love, Kol is not that funny. You're over selling it and inflating his ego." He complained, a level of bitterness in his tone which I was not expecting.
"I'm sorry, have I offended you by laughing?" I asked, scoffing softly as he pulled my waist closer.
"You haven't offended me." He muttered and that was that.
Tense night guys, tense night. Not as tense as Bekah's though when she wound up in Damon's bed. Thankfully, I woke up in my own.
After that night, there was no way I was getting away from that family.
In a few months Rebekah was a better sister to me than Elena and a better friend than the ones I'd had since kindergarten.
So when everything went down with the cure, I wanted her to have it so that she could live the human life that she had always wanted.
I cried for Kol's life when I came home to his remains on my kitchen floor and Klaus trapped in my living room. Caroline and Tyler didn't say a word as I scraped his ashes into a box and in return I didn't give any argument when Klaus bit Caroline. Instead, I just sat on the sofa opposite Klaus, staring into space as I waited for my phone to light up with some good news from Rebekah, hoping she had the cure for herself after Klaus had revealed that there was only one dose.
Faintly I heard Caroline mumbling about Klaus being in love with her, that made me laugh and dying or not, she didn't like that.
"Oh come on...I mean, he's like a thousand years old Care. He wants to fuck you, he likes the chase because when he finally gets you it feels like a win. You think a dance and a date is the same as love? What's Tyler then? Your soulmate? Is Matt too?" I was taunting a reaction really. I was still mad about Kol, we had become pretty good friends and the others new that and didn't care in the slightest. So yeah, I wanted her to hurt. I wanted all of them to hurt but Caroline always made it clear that she was better than me so having the power in that moment felt especially good.
When Klaus finally gave her a drop of blood, she was storming out of my house and dragging Tyler. Klaus only gave me a look and head nod of some sort of understanding before he gestured to the seat beside him and I moved over. I stayed against him until the barrier dropped and he was able to sort his shit out.
Rebekah didn't get the cure, Silas went crazy on everyone and life fell to fuck again.
Just when things got a little better, Rebekah came bursting through the door.
"You will not believe what my twat of a brother has gone and done!" She yelled, eyes wide and borderline shocked.
"Klaus?"
"Obviously! You won't even believe- hybrids can reproduce!" She revealed and I choked on nothing.
"Woah- wait. What has he done now?" I asked and she nodded enthusiastically.
"He got some wolf girl pregnant! They're in New Orleans right now. Keeping the baby! Elijah's there too, convinced they'll be some happy family." She muttered and I stared, completely gobsmacked.
Took a week but eventually she agreed to go too and I was beyond curious as to how this was gonna play out so took my place and kept by them.
People were dying left right and centre, wolves and witches and vampires. It was a war zone 24/7 until the day Hope was born and pronounced dead only she wasn't dead. Never had I ever been so tired. It was like a never ending game of tennis, whacking problems back and forth non stop.
And yet, somehow, no matter who had just been slaughtered, Klaus would have a comment to throw at me. Whether it be as simple as "Who are we all dressed up today for?" on a random Tuesday or as vulgar as "Christ love, do you want the whole city tearing that dress off?" when Bex and I were heading out for a fun mnight.
Touching also became increasingly common. Hands on my shoulders when he's stood behind me or my hips to keep my still. Waist if I needed to be stuck at his side, like if there was a threat, and arm with his whenever there was a dance even when I wasn't his date.
Rebekah had made many comments, Hayley too but I was a firm denier. A very firm denier for years. Years.
Hope grew up to be a far to aware child. In fact she asked at least a dozen times if I was her second mommy because her daddy and I were in love. When I told her we weren't in love, she would raise both brows and say a very sarcastic "Okaaay, whatever you say." And leave me speechless every damn time.
Even Kol was laughing. Wasn't having it.
But that stupid trip was definitely a set up. Not just by Kol or Bekah or Hayley, every single last Mikaelson and their fuckers.
Hope wanted to see the grand canyon. Somehow it became an entire family holiday/trip/plan situation to go to Arizona for a week, maybe visit California and blah blah blah.
We had two five seater cars. And somehow eleven people were going.
The car situation needed to be considerate of how many hours we would be in the cars and how likely arguments were.
"I'm not being in a car with Kol for over twenty hours." Klaus protested immediately and Davina nodded.
"Please don't put me in a car with Klaus." She muttered whilst Kol just grinned.
"I wanna go with Auntie Bekah and Auntie Freya!" Hope chimmed in and both sisters laughed in agreement.
"I can drive one of the cars?" Keelin offered and they nodded.
"Woah, wait." Hayley shook her head. "If Rebekah's there, where's Marcel? He can't be with Klaus or Elijah if we want to make it there without screaming."
I just stared, there wasn't enough space and I technically wasn't family and I wasn't dating or married to anyone there so I was ready to just stay home.
"We can drive with you, Elijah and Klaus?" Keelin replied to Hayley, reffering to both her and Freya who nodded.
"Yeah, then Kol, Davina, Bex, Marcel and Hope can go together and Hope still gets Bex. We can swap around halfway? We'll need to stop and sleep at a hotel or something anyway." Freya summarised and everyone nodded before Rebekah's eyes fell on me, I just shook my head at her to tell her it was fine but once we started our silent conversation others began to take notice.
"Y/N, you'll be in the car with us" Hayley said as though it was obvious.
"Sure but there's no room. You, Elijah, Keelin, Freya and Klaus-"
"Why's my name last?" Klaus interjected and I rolled my eyes.
"-There's ten seats and eleven of us. It's fine, I can stay here and you know...water the plants and stuff." I muttered, glancing around at the neglected, very dead plants.
"Of course not, you have to come." Elijah argued and I was slightly surprised it was him to say anything first though we had gotten closer over the years.
They all started mumbling between themselves before Kol just piped up.
"Oh come on! Just sit in my lap darling, you know I wouldn't drop you" He winked and Davina smacked her lips before delivering a swift smack to the side of his head and relishing in his yelp.
That's when everyone's eyes darted to Klaus.
"Just...sit on Nik's lap." Rebekah shrugged and I was ready to slap this bitch.
"Really, I'll just stay here and see the pictures." I backed out and Klaus frowned.
"What's wrong with my lap, love? You didn't protest to Kol's. I'm a much better option and much safer than a seatbelt." He defended and I sighed.
"Klaus-"
"No, it's decided. You'll be with me."
And that was that. Nothing I said was even heard after that, by anyone I swear.
Which was how I ended up telling Klaus that I was not sitting on his hands.
"Oh don't act like you wouldn't love to feel my hands holding that tight-"
"Klaus. Finish that sentence and I'm gonna smack you before sitting on Elijah's lap." I warned and he shut his mouth with a cocky smirk on his face.
Keelin was driving, Freya in the passenger, Elijah at behind Freya, Hayley in the middle cuddled up to the suited original and Klaus sat behind Keelin with my begrudgingly on his lap. His arms were wrapped round my body acting the same as a seat belt and also forcing my back to be against his chest after I tried to just perch on his knee and he called me ridiculous.
I lasted fifteen minutes of him whispering teasing comments into my ear about other ways we could end up with me on his lap before I had my headphones on to block him out.
We planned to do a stop at the services after five hours, less if Hope needed to use the bathroom or got hungry for something other than the snacks.
I got comfy after the first hour, letting myself relax against him and enjoy the drive. Three hours in he got fidgety and I paused the song to try ask what he was doing but then I felt it.
I don't think he knew my music had stopped when he cussed quietly and tried to move his hips back a bit. I wasn't sure whether shifting would make it better or worse as his cock only seemed to be getting more prominent against my ass.
I glanced to the side, seeing Hayley and Elijah both with headphones in and watching a film on an ipad before glancing up front to Freya and Keelin who were singing along to the radio up front.
Slowly I reached and pulled my headphones down around my neck and cleared my throat softly. He tensed against me and sucked in a breath.
"You okay?" I whispered, making sure to keep quiet and he placed his hand against the side of the car, pushing himself up to sit straighter but it just felt lift he pressed against me more.
"Fuck- sorry" He muttered, his voice breaking a little and he sounded weirdly panicked.
I expected him to make a flirty comment like normal, maybe even get touchy but he was actually...embarrassed?
"It's...okay" I murmured and pulled myself forward so I wasn't touching his crotch. "It's not long till we stop now anyway" I told him as I glanced at the sat nav.
We stayed like that for a while before some cry pulled in front of us unexpectedly and Keelin had to slam the breaks. I felt my body go forward before Klaus's arms pulled my straight back against him before my face could hit the back of the seat in front. My hands grabbed onto his arms as my heart rate spiked with adrenaline and my breathing sped up.
"It's alright love." he whispered against my ear whilst Keelin called an apology back to us. We stayed pressed right against each other regardless of his hard-on.
By the time we got to the services Klaus had nearly thrust his hips at least six times.
He went straight for the bathroom when we got there while I headed for the McDonald’s queue with Hope and Kol.
By the time we were getting back in the car, Klaus looked rough,.
Face pink, eyes refusing to look anywhere other than straight and had most definitely not resolved his problem. That was clear when he sat back down in the car and grimaced to himself.
I sat back in his lap and bit down on my lip. The others hadn't gotten I yet, they were swapping Freya and Keelin for Rebekah and Marcel with high hopes for no tension before we got to a hotel.
"Is there anything I can do to-"
"Please don't offer anything right now." He whispered, his jaw clenching making me hold a laugh. I sighed and turned round in his lap to face him.
"It's not a big deal" I told him and he frowned.
"It's embarrassing and we still have hours." He muttered. Honestly this was the perfect opportunity to tease him like he does me usually but he was actually stressed.
"Klaus, I don't mind. It's flattering, really." I told him gently. "Besides you can't help it, I'm just great." I shrugged and he smiled.
"Mhm, you're irresistible love." he chuckled and I hummed.
"Exactly, anyone would get turned on with my tight ass on their lap." I tease, using his words from earlier to make him laugh but it also made his cock twitch beneath me. My eyes glanced down and it made him shift. "Did you try to uh...get rid of it?" I asked, referring to when he ran to the bathroom.
"I tried to." He mumbled and turned me around so my back was to him as the other doors opened and Rebekah slid in beside us, grinning brightly and leaning over to hug me.
We chatted for the majority of the second half, Bex complained that Kol wouldn't stop singing in the other car and so on. Klaus's hands would clench every now and then if I moved too much or the car jolted but that didn't happen very often with how sensibly Elijah drove.
We got to the chosen hotel a full thirty minutes later than the others because Elijah wouldn't drive a single mile faster than the speed limit.
When we arrived we were only handed three room keys. Kol had gotten himself and Davina a room, Keelin and Freya room, Bekah and Marcel, and then another double bed room and a family room. Hope wanted to be with her mom so she came out of Freyas to go with Hayley and Elijah to the family room and Klaus and I had to share.
It would have been a whole lot less awkward if he hadn't had his erection for the entire day pressed against me but we powered through. Rebekah could be heard giggling to Marcel when they closed their door, waving at me with cocky smiles.
Klaus went straight in the shower so I put the TV on to drown out whatever he was doing (we all know what he was doing). He came out over half an hour later, face still pink as he glanced at me. I couldn't help but look and much to my surprise his cock was still pressing against his sleep pants.
"Klaus-"
"I don't want to talk about it." He mumbled as he got in bed beside me and rolled to face the opposite direction. I sighed quietly and went to the bathroom to get into my travel pyjamas before laying down next to him. The bed was definitely only a queen, we were pretty much touching the whole time no matter how close to the edge I was. I stared up at the ceiling for ages. It was so dark that I could barely see anything but I could tell that he was awake too, especially when he moved round to face me. I turned my head to look at him, my eyes squinting to make out his face with the tiny bit of moonlight that slipped past the curtains.
The silence was loud when his forehead pressed to mine and his eyes closed.
Thoughts come much easier when it's late. All ideas seem like good ones.
So I didn't really consider what I was doing when my hand slipped down to his crotch. He grunted softly when I cupped his bulge through the cotton. I looked down, watching my hand slip under his his waistband.
"Love..." He whispered before a groan left his lips when my fingers wrapped around his cock. My teeth bit down on my own tongue as I took his thickness into consideration. It was so quiet beside his heavy breathing as I stroked him firmly, his arm went around me and pulled me right up against him and his face nuzzled the crook of my neck.
It definitely wasn't a position I thought I'd end up in when this trip was planned but I couldn't say I wasn't enjoying it a bit. I let go of his length and he made a sound that closely resembled a whimper. I licked my hand a few times, coating my skin in saliva before sliding it along his shaft.
"Oh bloody hell" He muttered as his hips jumped up into my hand. I felt my eyes widen slightly at the full feel of him from tip to base. I squeezed him in my hand, feeling a sense of pride at how hard I had gotten him from doing literally nothing.
I felt his hand on the back of my head, pulling me down until our lips pressed together. His skin was warm against min and the sheets ensured that as our mouths moved in sync. His body moved like a wave to thrust his cock back and forth in my grip but I could feel him getting frustrated as he nipped my bottom lip, drawing blood.
I pulled away with a strained moan and squeezed his dick again. "Klaus, you gotta slow down" I whispered but he shook his head.
"I'm close-" he panted, "I just..." his hips kept bucking but I could tell he was struggling.
I opened my hand, letting go of him making him let out an angry cry. I knew he wanted to question me but his words halted in his throat when I moved my lips to his jaw, slowly but surely kissing lower down his body.
He went tense when I reached his cock before both his hands scooped my hair into a makeshift ponytail and I took his head into my mouth. We both took deep breathes for different reasons as he pushed my head down, I could feel my saliva dripping down his length as his head stroked the back of my mouth and teased my throat. I pulled up and his arms relaxed, letting me bob my head along his cock but taking him deeper when he pushed down. My eyes kept closing as I forced myself not to gag. I could taste him getting closer, his tip leaked against my tongue as I rolled it over the top half. His hands tightened their hold on my hair and his thighs tensed either side of me.
He held me down when he came making me gag as warm fluid hit the back of my throat. His hands dug into my scalp and I could hear him groaning as I swallowed it down.
My head shot up with a gasp for air and a soft laugh as he laid back against the pillows taking slow breaths. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and sat up.
I laid back down beside him and silence fell back over us but it wasn't as bad this time.
We must've fallen asleep sometime after because when I opened my eyes it was light in the room and my head was using Klaus's chest as a pillow.
For a second I thought that what had happened was a dream but when I pulled myself up the memories flooded in quickly and I looked down at Klaus who looked all the more ready to fuck me quite simply. Pupils blown, lips parted as he eyed me up and down like a piece of meat.
"Oh fuck." I cursed, running my hand through my hair and getting out of bed. I ignored his presence entirely and went to wash my face and get changed before leaving the room with my travel bag and knocking repeatedly on Rebekah's door.
She finally answered looking disheveled and very clearly just stopped having sex with Marcel but I didn't care.
"Breakfast now." I demanded, grabbing her arm and dragging her.
I wouldn't tell her what happened but she knew something had happened especially when everyone else arrived and Klaus just stared at me. Bekah glanced back and forth three times before raising both brows and sipping her coffee.
He seemed annoyed when I continued to ignore him for the next section of the car ride. So when we got to the services and I headed for the starbucks line, he was ride behind me. His hands were on my hips and I could feel his chest just brushing my shoulder-blades as we stood not so patiently.
"You're acting as though I've murdered your family pet, love." He murmured against the back of my ear making me sigh; I miss when he was embarrassed and quiet. I didn't reply to him and he huffed. "You weren't this rude last night-"
I elbowed him straight in the stomach making him wince before chuckling as his hands slipped round my waist. I wish I could say it made me feel uncomfortable but it just felt right in the most infuriating way. I continued to ignore him as I got to the till and made the order for myself, Bex and Hayley. Klaus got his card in before I could even reach into my pocket and I just went over to the waiting line. He was back on me in a second and pretty much breathing down my neck.
"Why are you being so cold, love? I thought we had a moment...or a few moments." He trailed and I clenched my jaw. He was teasing and it wasn't funny to me. I shouldn't have even thought about touching him like I had. He was my best friends brother for christs sake and I had to see him everyday, he was the worst person to get complicated with.
"You thought wrong." I mumbled and his hand squeezed my hip.
"Don't tell me you help out all of your friends like last ni-"
"Klaus would you just shut up? Last night was really, really stupid." I muttered.
"It wasn't stupid when you had your mouth on my cock, love." He hissed into my ear and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Hated how the tables had turned.
I didn't bother saying anything else to him as I grabbed the drinks and shoved past him.
Back in the car we were both silent, so was everyone else. The tension was built.
When we finally got to the luxury hotel we were staying in I was quick to go to my own room, refusing help with my case and just going to set up for the next few days.
I'd just had a shower and done my hair when my door knocked. I had a robe wrapped round my otherwise bare body when I unlocked the door and opened it only to push it shut again but Klaus's hand caught it and he forced his way inside. "We have a lot to discuss."
"We really don't Klaus." I sighed as I sat down at the vanity.
"First of all-" He stared and I groaned, "last night was a long time coming. Perhaps not the blow job-"
"Klaus!" I scolded, throwing my arms up knowing that everyone's rooms were just behind a couple thin walls.
"-but the whole snapping of...lets say tension. Lets just be honest love, it's not exactly a surprise that we're attracted to each other." He chuckled and I narrowed my eyes.
"Well hold on. You're attracted to me, you're the one who couldn't get rid of his boner for an entire day. If I hadn't gotten rid of it then I would have had to've dealt with it all day today too." I defended but we both knew it was bullshit.
"Oh? So you didn't kiss me? Didn't look me in the eye whilst you wrapped your lips-"
"Why have you always got to make everything a big deal?"
"It is a big deal. I didn't ask you to do that, I didn't even tease the idea. You wanted it, you did it." He was getting angrier and it was worse because I knew I was wrong but I'd gone too far to succumb to that now.
"You could've just gone to sleep but you turned over and gave me that stupid look!" I argued and he scoffed.
"What look?"
"You know exactly what look. Your eyes do that thing."
His eyes narrowed momentarily and he stepped closer. "Oh? Am I doing it now?" He asked and I rolled my eyes.
"No." I muttered but as I glanced back up at him I could feel his gaze intensifying and the blue of them storming over.
"No?" He tilted his head and reached his hand out to cup my face. I clenched my jaw and stared at him uneasily. His fingers stroked along my jaw gently but his grip was rough as he crouched down in front of me to be eye-level.
"Stop it." I whispered but I didn't really mean it and he knew that so when he got closer and pressed his mouth along the length of my neck my protests were almost nonexistent.
"You've been cruel to me all day." He muttered as his hands pushed the fabric of my robe down. "Cold...rude..." He mumbled as he kissed the skin of my cleavage whilst his hands untied the material round my waist so it fell open.
"Klaus" I uttered, slight resistance in my tone as I become exposed to his eyes. I pressed my thighs together so he couldn't see between them as his eyes dragged down my body. His kisses kept going to my breasts alongside his hands.
"Is this stupid too, love?" He chuckled as he glided his tongue over my left nipple making my nerves light up.
"You have to stop" I whispered and he nipped the flesh in his mouth causing my body to jolt and a gasp leaving my throat.
"Why?" He chuckled
"You're Bekah's brother." I muttered and he fully laughed.
"Don't behave as if I was every just Rebekah's brother." He grinned and pinched both my nipples between his fingers making this a whole lot harder. "That second I saw you, I knew I'd have you. From that ball where you looked gorgeous whether you believed it or not...to seeing you hold my child, feeling you wash the blood from my hands, feeding me your blood when I needed it. You've always been mine." As if to make his point he pressed a kiss to my lips and slid both hands to my knees before pushing my legs apart.
I wave of embarrassment hit me but I wasn't strong enough to close them with his hands there. "I don't feel...gorgeous" I whispered, wanting to hide my body from his view.
"Well you should." He uttered back, a firmness to his voice which held no nonsense before his mouth pressed a series of kisses down my stomach before I felt the heat of his lips on my core.
My eyes drooped slightly at the sensation and my fingers slid into his hair, curling around the soft curls as my gaze met his and his tongue slid out from his soft lips to stroke my clit. He licked at me so slowly, heating my body up more and more with each delicate touch. His hands slide under my thighs and guided my legs over his shoulders so I was barely sat on the chair as his face disappeared between my legs and his mouth clung onto my pussy. My grip on his hair tightened and a series of cries left me.
His actions gained speed and pressure whilst he went. I could feel my lower stomach twisting in pleasure, wanting nothing more than to feel the high I knew he could give me.
As my eyes closed, I knew now why Klaus was as cocky as he was. Any man with this much power over a woman would be as cocky as he. I'd never felt so utterly vulnerable and yet completely uncaring for the consequences at once. The knowledge of the fact that his siblings and our friends might hear fell right out of my head as I moaned his name as loud and as often as I could as my body and mind expressed it's raw emotion to his touch.
My body went back and I pressed my hand to the chair to keep myself up as he buried into my thighs and plunged his talented tongue in and out of me without slowing. Heat spilled from inside of me, rushing into his mouth and fuelling him to suck and slurp. The sound brought an unbelievable surge of want through me; my hips ground up against his face and I felt a deep chuckle leave him and vibrate through me in response before he pulled off of me. He licked his lips and swiped his sleeve over his chin before grabbing my thighs again and lifting me up before swinging me round and tossing me down.
I felt the air leave my lungs as my back hit the bed.
He was on me before I could take a breath and the robe was dragged completely from my body. His hands grabbed my wrists and my arms were pinned above my head. I could feel my chest moving up at down, the only sound I could hear was my breathing. His lips were moving but no sound was coming out until a loud banging sound broke my daze.
Within seconds I had a sheet wrapped right round me and Klaus had me gathered behind him.
"Oh for fucks sake- We're going out for dinner! You could have waited-" Rebekah's voice shrieked and I felt hot for different reasons.
"Would you get out- we're coming!" Klaus yelled and Rebekah gagged making him scoff.
I felt him turn to me but I was just staring at the closed door. His hand rubbed down the back of my body slowly before he leant down to kiss my lips firmly but shortly.
"We'll finish this after dinner, I promise you love." He muttered into my ear before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me off the bed and grabbing my suitcase. "Let's get you dressed and get out of here before I somehow lose my clothes too" He teased.
By the time we got out there everyone was stood waiting bar Hayley, Elijah and Hope. I went to ask but Rebekah just grabbed my hand and dragged me. Immediately I went to apologise but she started before I could. "Oh my god! I mean, I thought the car ride would build some tension but I wasn't expecting it to snap so easily- did you two have sex in the hotel yesterday!? Wait no don't tell me ew!" She exasperated.
"No! We didn't...have..sex." I muttered and I could feel her staring.
"I wanna ask but I really also don't..." She whispered and I nodded.
"Good shout." I mumbled and we kept walking ahead of the others. "Hope-?" I questioned.
"Hayley took her to the restaurant early to check she liked the menu, thank god."
"Oh shut up. This is your fault. You planned this." I muttered.
"Well...me and everyone else."
I love that you can just read my moodswings through this as I just didn’t know whether to make it completely fluffy, angsty or smutty. I really loved the request but I’m not really sure I did it justice
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starlazergazer · 4 months
Text
Figure Something Out
Pairing: Anakin x Reader
Request: I was wondering if you could make a enemies to lover where Anakin is madly in love with reader but wont admit it since he likes to mock and annoy her but the reader doesnt, like there are but they arent as strong as Anakins. So as time passes she starts to catch feelings for him and ends in fluff but its a little angsty too yk
Warnings: Swearing, Anakin being a bit of dick
Word Count: 7.5k (sorry not sorry we love a slow burn enemies/academic rivals to lovers)
A/N: Check the blog for a little update if you want but I really hope this was worth the wait! As always please please let me know what you think!
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Your eyes bounced fervently back and forth between your master’s and Anakin’s, not even bothering to hide the shock you were sure was etched into your expression. “You can’t be serious”
“Do I look like I’m joking” came your master’s quick reply, his tone alone enough to scold you for your loss in decorum, your posture snapping up reflexively as you schooled your face back to a more natural expression, unable to keep yourself from getting defensive.
“I just mean-“ the hurried deflection rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, your master’s unamused glare enough to keep the words from fully coming out. Taking a deep breath, you tried to better control yourself before you continued. “he’s a padawan, same seniority as me how could he train me?”
“He’s also standing right here” Anakin’s gruff voice proved he was just as thrilled about this assignment as you, though you barely spared him a glance, keeping your gaze locked onto your master’s, a silent plea for him to take it back.
“Padawan Skywalker is the best padawan with a saber by leagues I think he could be of great help to you” And you knew that tone your master used here, one he reserved to tell you he was done discussing the matter.
Dejectedly you finally let your gaze slip over to Anakin’s, offering him a tight-lipped smile “I appreciate your help Padawan Skywalker” you nearly choked on the words, having to force them out of your throat.
Anakin in response said nothing, his arms crossed defensively over his chest as he let his eyes rake your figure quickly, letting your words hang uncomfortably in the air until your master finally broke the silence.
“Truly padawan Skywalker we appreciate everything you do for us” He offered a small nod, clapping Anakin on the back.
“Of course master Koon” and you didn’t miss the way he offered your master a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, nor the way he was happy to return a comment to your master’s thanks but not your own. The two of you were already off to a great start to what was bound to be a very short apprenticeship.
With a small nod back in return Master Koon took his leave, leaving you and Anakin alone in the hallway, you looking up at the padawan expectantly, him pointedly avoiding your gaze as much as possible.
“Look” you drew his attention back to you with a sigh “neither of us want to be doing this so how about we just forget this and go our separate ways?”
He raised an eyebrow up at you in response, clearly unimpressed by your proposed solution “I told Master Koon I would help”
“And how noble of you to do so” you replied with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest to match his posture “but since you clearly want to spend as much time with me as I do you this felt mutually beneficial”
“I’ve seen you fight” he responded back with a small shake of his head “you very obviously do need the help”
“Believe me you’ve made it abundantly clear what you think of my fighting skills in training” you replied with a bitter laugh.
“When it takes your opponent less than a minute to get your saber out of your hand it’s hard to keep my comments to myself”
“It does not-“ and you cut yourself off before you could properly blow up, Anakin always having this weird affect on you, pushing you over the edge with little more than a tap. You weren’t letting him get to you that easily this time. With a deep breath you tried to collect yourself “Fine, when do you want to start?”
Anakin paused for a moment, doing nothing but survey you, probably curious as to why you hadn’t started biting his head off yet, but nonetheless continued “after dinner tonight, now come on we have battle strategies with master Kenobi”
“You were asked to help me train with my lightsaber, doesn’t mean you have to walk me to class from now on” you huffed but followed him down the hallway nonetheless.
“Then start jogging and we’ll call this training too” he answered with a shrug.
-
You sat back trying to listen to Obi-wan’s lecture, finding yourself for the first time ever in this class unable to pay attention to the lecture, instead your focused was solely on the person next to you.
Anakin has spent the last several years making his feelings towards you abundantly clear. If the chiding remarks, the mocking comments, the downright insults were anything to go by then you could easily say that he didn’t seem to like you that much. And you had to say by this point the feeling was mutual.
He’d spent all of his time in this class in particular sitting on the other side of the room, pointedly the chair that was just about as far away from you as possible, something you were sure the rest of the padawan’s had picked up on by this point. And that would explain why now that he not only showed up to class with you in tow but took a seat next to your usual one the entire rooms attention seemed to subtly shift in your direction.
Not that the room’s attention wasn’t usually in his direction if you were being honest. Anakin was the jedi council’s golden boy, the prophetic child that would bring balance to the force, as well as being a hell of a fighter with his light saber, and if you were being totally objective he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes. All of this meant he had a natural sort of charisma that seemed to draw the unconscious attentive weight of a room in his direction, a weight that now sat squarely on your shoulders as well.
This new attention combined with Anakin’s incessant knee bouncing meant your focus was on just about anything but the lecture at hand.
“You know you don’t need to babysit me in every other part of jedi training” you whispered over to him, Anakin’s knee bouncing harmlessly against yours as he leaned in to listen and you fought the urge to pull your own back. Afterall this was your desk you weren’t about to contort yourself so he could be more comfortable.
“Is this why you need my help?” he responded with an annoying smirk, leaning in even more as he whispered “because you struggle to pay attention in class?”
You narrowed your eyes back at him in response “I’ll have you know-“
“Padawan Y/L/N, Skywalker” Obi-wan’s unamused voice broke through your whisper sharply, freezing you in place, your face now uncomfortably close to Anakin’s as every eye turned towards the two of you “is there something you would like to share with the class”
“no Master” Anakin answered quickly, righting himself just as you did.
“Perhaps some insight on the battle then?” Obi-wan goaded, gesturing to the holomap before him, amusement sparkling in his eyes as he watched his padawan squirm beneath his gaze.
“Well I-“ you could hear the lost tone in Anakin’s voice as he desperately searched for something to say, you having half a mind to let him sit in the hot seat before you let your eyes roam over the map, happy to see that you recognized the battle Obi-wan was walking you through.
“The republic’s army comes from behind” you offered before things could get too awkward, feeling Anakin’s gaze snap in your direction as you spoke “on that ridge over there, flanking the enemy forcing them to surrender”
Obi-wan’s gaze turned to yours with a warm smile as he nodded, no doubt knowing you would know the answer even if you hadn’t been paying complete attention, before he flicked it back to his padawan, raising his eyebrows slightly as he spoke “very good padawan Y/L/N”
He held Anakin’s gaze for a moment longer, an unspoken conversation happening between the two of them before Obi-wan continued lecture like usual, turning back to face the rest of the room.
Taking the opportunity you leaned back towards Anakin again “if there’s one thing I don’t need your help with, it’s this class”
The smirk made another appearance on his mouth as he looked down at you, but this one felt different than before, warmer somehow, as he nodded “noted princess”
-
Whatever confidence you had bolstered from battle strategies quickly left you the minute you got to saber training.
Anakin was already in the center of the room, feet planted squarely on the mat as he spun his saber effortlessly around his body, concentration etched onto his face though you could tell even from across the room that he was just having fun with it. What you wouldn’t give to be able to whip your saber around with such precision that it seemed almost careless.
“You gonna come fight or having too much fun back there enjoying the show?”
You detested the amusement in his voice as you realized you’d spent much too long staring at him from the doorway. Unable to think of much of a response, you immediately cast your gaze down to your shoes, blindly making your way towards the mat, unclipping the saber from your belt.
“What no training sticks?” You asked with a bitter laugh as you turned on your lightsaber, giving it a half hearted twirl in your hand as you set your stance.
“Don’t worry I’ll try not to hurt you” he winked back as he did the same, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
You waited for him to make the first attack, the two of you spinning in a circle around one another, each waiting for the other to strike first.
Not once did that stupid smirk fall from his face, frustration rising more and more within you with each step until you couldn’t take it anymore, deciding to suck it up and make the first move.
Swinging your saber down at him Anakin deflected the blow with little more than a flick of his wrist, barely moving from his original position no doubt in an attempt to show you how easily he could win if he wanted to. Fine, if that’s how he wants to play it.
You barely gave yourself time to recover before making another swing, Anakin deflecting with another simple movement, but you were back at it. Blow after blow Anakin’s saber met yours at every thrust effortlessly, but still you push forward, kept getting closer, not even noting that Anakin never bothered to take a step back. Not noticing how close you got to him until his empty hand shot out mid swing, capturing your wrist and disarming you with a twist, your saber now held tightly in his hand.
Before you could even comprehend what had happened he yanked hard on your arm, twisting you wildly until your back came crashing against his chest, one arm holding your saber and wrapping around your waist to pin you against him the other pressing his blade right up against your throat.
You could’ve screamed in frustration, at how easily he had pinned you, at how effortlessly he seemed to be able to block everything you threw at him, at how close and vulnerable you were now that he had you now pinned against him.
“What is this some game for you? Are you just toying with me?” You spat back at him, not bothering to hide the anger in your voice.
You heard a deep chuckle from behind you, could feel it ruminate up through his chest as it pressed you even further into his chest before he spoke, voice low and right in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of it with each word “I’m teaching you princess. Now use that big brain of yours and figure something out”
And you could’ve laughed at his so called advice, at how easy it is to tell someone to figure something out when you didn’t have a saber against your throat.
Instead you decided you were done fucking around.
Picking your foot up you slammed it down hard on the jedi’s left foot at the same time rearing your head back harshly to make contact with his nose, both attacks catching Anakin enough by surprise that he released his hold on you, stumbling back and releasing his grip on your saber enough that you could slip it from his grasp, pivoting on the spot and pointing the tip of the blade right at the jedi’s throat.
Anakin in response held his nose in his hand, pinching the bridge of it as he completely ignored your saber pointed at him, giving you a disappointed glare from overtop of it.
He sniffed and wiggled his nose before shaking his head and bating off your saber with his own half-heartedly “you know that trick won’t work anywhere but here”
“Good thing I don’t need it to work anywhere but here” you returned with a smirk, stepping back a few feet before dropping back into a fighting stance.
Anakin offered nothing more than a disappointed sigh before he dropped into a stance of his own, giving his nose one last check before he launched forward to attack.
You had no problem dodging each of his blows, your body always out of the way of the arc of his saber. The issue arose when it came to deflecting them. Swing after swing your saber was always there to meet his but the effort of stopping each of the jedi’s much more powerful swings had your arms shaking after mere minutes, your feet scrambling back to try and avoid the brunt of each blow as much as possible.
Anakin, however, seemed to zero in on your weakness immediately, never relenting as he swung again and again. You in response started to try and redirect each blow, hoping that redirecting the power of the swing would take the load off your arms.
That was until his saber seemed to hit yours at just the right speed, just the right angle, that the force of it reverberated down to your hands, your grip faltering for just a second but it was enough to have the cool metal of the hilt of your saber slip from your grasp.
Anakin hit immediately with another blow, effectively knocking your saber out of your hands.
You watched dejectedly as your saber slid out from your grasp and flew across the room. With a small sigh you held your empty hands up defensively ready for Anakin to sheath his saber and start listing off all the things you did wrong.
Instead you watched as Anakin stayed rigid in his position, lightsaber still held in front of you, knees still bent ready to strike.
“I get it, you win, I’ll get ‘em next time” you pushed mock enthusiasm into your voice as you started to make your way off the mat in the direction you saw your saber go when a blue column of light swung down just in front of you, barring your movement.
“So in an actual battle your plan is just to give up when you lose your lightsaber?” Anakin’s chiding voice had you gritting your teeth as your head snapped in his direction, little more than an amused smirk on his face as he talked “maybe offer your neck to the sith for an easy decapitation”
“No I’ll-“ frustrated words died in your throat as you sought an end for your sentence. You were tired, sweat had your robes sticking to your torso uncomfortably and every muscle you had burned, now was not the time for his mind games.
“You’ll what?” he pushed forwards, retracting his lightsaber so it now was held in that defensive position you were now all to used to seeing him in.
“I don’t know I’ll figure something out” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Then figure something out” he goaded with a raised brow before striking, his saber moving slightly slower than you knew he was capable of, giving you plenty of time to side step out of the way.
“Okay I get it” you called back to him as you dodged another swing, taking a step back towards the edge of the mat “you’ve made your point”
“I’ve made my point when you stop thinking of this as just training” he shot back with another swing of his saber, pushing forward forcing you to take another step back “this isn’t just to get through training so you can advance in the jedi ranks this is about survival” another swing, another dodge and another step back “this is about making sure you stand a chance out on the battle field” you felt the floor beneath your heels start to give way, your toes balancing on the edge of the mat “this isn’t some game Y/N”
You felt your irritation grow within you with each word. You knew this wasn’t some game, you had been outside of the walls of the temple, you had been on a battle field, you knew you needed help with your fighting skills but who was he to decide after one day that you weren’t taking this seriously enough.
You watched as he set up for his next attack, as his foot landed far out in front of him as he lunged forward, the whole world seeming to slow around you as you side stepped the saber, Anakin’s hand sailing past you effortlessly. Without a second thought you seized his wrist, giving it a small twist in the wrong direction as you pulled him forward with it, effectively knocking the jedi off his balance.
Before he could realize what was happening Anakin was sailing forward, past you, to the ground below as you pivoted around to face him from atop the mat, his lightsaber now clutched firmly in your grasp.
Spinning slightly in the air so that his shoulder first made contact with the floor Anakin slid a few inches on the ground, coming to a stop on his back and looking up at you only to see his own lightsaber pointed down at his throat.
“Do you want to offer up your neck for an easy decapitation now?”
And to your surprise you heard nothing back but a laugh. A sound you didn’t think Anakin Skywalker was even capable of.
“That was good Y/N”
You felt your feet faulter beneath you, your knees nearly giving out, was that a compliment?
Your mind was still reeling as you shut down his saber and dropped it to the ground next to you, because Anakin Skywalker did not compliment you. Tease, chastise, bully sure he did all of those things but never compliment. And he certainly didn’t smile at you like he was doing now.
It was a weird sight to see, Anakin grinning from the ground below you, eyes twinkling slightly as his whole face changed with it, and to your horror you found a part of you liking the way it looked on him, as he extended his hand out to you.
Before you could even think better of it you reached out and grabbed his hand, helping to haul him to his feet, ignoring the slight tingle his touch left on your skin, blaming the way your cheeks felt hot beneath his gaze on the exertion of fighting him.
“You may never overpower your opponent but you’re fast” Anakin continued on as if nothing had changed, dusting himself off, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips as he talked “use that, dodge until you have them making sloppy attacks then strike as soon as you can”
It took you too long to notice that he was waiting for you to say something, little more coming out of your mouth than a half-hearted “yeah” that had his brows drawing in confusion.
Stooping slightly, he came down to your eyelevel, nose nearly close enough to touch your own, and for a brief moment staring deeply into each eye before shaking his head softly “that was probably too much for today wasn’t it”
Still you didn’t respond, not sure if you could’ve if you tried, for some reason unable to pull your gaze from Anakin as he looked at you, fluffy hair framing his face perfectly as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours dueling, as if you weren’t drenched in sweat.
Anakin frowned back in response, a single hand coming out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he could think better of it. Then bending down and picking up his lightsaber from where you had dropped it “get some rest princess”
He spoke softly, softer than you had ever really heard him speak before he started to make his way towards the exit, leaving you standing on the edge of the mat, before he called out “I mean it, you did well today”
It was only after he left that it dawned on you, he had used your actual name.
-
Maybe it was naive of you to think that things could change so quickly.
That all it took was one decent lesson from him and the two of you could seamlessly slip into a weird sort of friendship.
Maybe you just wanted to believe you could put everything behind you so easily that you assumed he wanted to do the same.
You’d heard people gush about Anakin Skywalker before. About how helpful he could be, how nice, how charming.
You never got to meet that side of Anakin Skywalker, the man locking that part of himself from you practically the moment he met you. But you had really thought you were starting to see it these past few weeks.
The teasing comments had started to disappear, or they at least lost all their edge, coming off as more inside jokes than anything. He walked you to class every day, some days going out of his way to find you before he started to head in that direction. Your personal space found itself being invaded by him more and more, Anakin no longer going out of his way to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. Lingering touches, wandering eyes, inside jokes that had the two of you seeking out each others gaze in crowded rooms to silently revel in what was just said in a way only the two of you would understand.
Anakin Skywalker was quickly becoming your friend.
It was why when you got notified you were heading out on a mission to track down a bounty hunter with him for the first time ever you weren’t dreading the experience.
No you were actually excited.
Excited as you clipped your saber to your belt and headed out of your room.
Excited as you rounded the corner to head to your transport ship.
Excited as you stepped foot on the entrance ramp.
Excited as-
“I just don’t understand why she has to come with me”
It was as if a lead ball had dropped into your stomach. The excitement evaporating on the spot as a numbness took over and your step faltered, your body freezing in place just steps down from the ships entrance.
Because you knew that voice, but even worse you knew that tone. The anger, the contempt, the annoyance.
All it took was one simple phrase and you were ripped back into the same existence of just weeks ago before you had fallen for all of Anakin Skywalkers tricks.
“I agreed to train her and I’ve been doing that why does she have to hijack my missions now”
And you wished you could say his words didn’t affect you. Afterall just a few weeks ago you would’ve expected to hear them from him, you’d practically grown up hearing this resentment for merely existing in his vicinity.
Then why did they hurt so much now?
Why did they have a painful lump starting to grow in your throat?
Why did they make you wish the ground would swallow you whole on the spot?
Why did you ever think you could be friends with Anakin Skywalker?
“Yes master”
Anakin’s final words snapped you from your daze but still you had to force your legs to move you forward slowly, making sure that as Obi-wan exited the ship you were an appropriate distance back from the entrance.
He gave you a kind smile as he exited. As easy as it would have been to resent Obi-wan due to his proximity to Anakin you could never bring it upon yourself. “May the force be with you Y/N” he offered you with a small head bow.
“Thank you master Kenobi” you responded easily, mirroring his bow.
And he looked like he wanted to say more. Perhaps apologize for his padawan, perhaps offer parting words of wisdom, instead he seemed to swallow them, giving you one more slightly tense smile before departing, leaving you with no where to go but up the ramp.
Anakin’s eyes were on you the second you came into view, his face morphing too easily into a soft, friendly smile. “Hey, you ready?”
And it was the way he could flip the switch so easily, act so flawlessly that everything was okay, so effortlessly at ease.
Weeks ago you would have bit back, would’ve offered back some scathing comment, some backhanded remark. It was one thing that kept you from outright hating the young Skywalker. For every insult he spat you always had one to hurl back at him. He could insult you, berate you, belittle you, but you always came back swinging.
Right now though you didn’t have it in you.
You offered nothing more than a small nod of your head, not missing the way his smile morphed into a frown at it.
Maybe he was expecting you to say something, maybe he was gearing up for a fight, maybe he really thought you hadn’t heard him.
You couldn’t bring yourself to care what was running through his head at this moment.
You brushed past him towards the cockpit not missing the way his eyes never left you as you did so, not missing the way his hand hovered just over your arm, not missing the way he so hesitantly followed you.
You just had to get through this one mission and you could go back to ignoring Anakin Skywalker.
You weren’t as excited for that prospect as you thought you would be.
-
An involuntary hiss slipped past your lips the second your left foot hit the ground, your weight quickly shifting back to your right to avoid the pain, overcorrecting just enough to knock yourself off balance, all weight balanced dangerously on the edge of one foot as your arms reached out half-hazardly seeking anything solid to steady yourself.
Just before you could tip over another body slotted itself beside you, shoulders fluidly depositing themselves beneath your arm as another arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into Anakin’s slide as he swore quietly “I told you to stay put”
You laughed bitterly at that, forcing yourself to lean back away from him as much as possible even as the arm on your waist tightened, his other hand clipping his saber to his belt so that it could come up and grab the hand he had thrown around his shoulders, effectively pinning you to his side as he started to drag you back to the wall “Yeah sure so you can just leave me”
You felt him still at your words, the grip on your hand and waist slackening for a second as your words seemed to hit him physically, your position keeping you from properly viewing his face as his voice came out softer than you had ever heard him “I wouldn’t do that”
His tone caught you by surprise. If there was one thing you knew about Anakin Skywalker it was that the man was loud, the way he carried himself, spoke, hell the way he flew reeked of confidence to the point of arrogance. Anakin was anything but the soft, almost vulnerable tone that just left him.
And you felt a part of you already starting to reach out to him, ready to pull him into your side and assure him that you knew that, assure him that you knew he was a good person, to tell him that you trusted him.
But another part of you couldn’t give up the way he tried bench you. How after everything you had been through: all the training, the way he seemed to go out of his way to be nice to you lately, how everything seemed to be looking up, he still thought you were nothing more than a nuisance, a less than.
Less than capable, less than a good jedi, less than an apt fighter, less than worthy of his trust.
His motion continued after the brief pause, the two of you finally reaching the wall and Anakin taking care to slowly set you down against it, a hand supporting your calf as you squatted down, careful to keep your foot off the ground.
“You’re right that’s probably a touch too far even for you, so instead you want to what scold me for getting in your way? Tell me I’m a shitty jedi for getting myself injured? Pull my hair and call me ugly?”
Anakin only sighed in response, one hand coming up to tangle his fingers in his hair as the other planted on his hip, Anakin doing nothing but looking down at you in your position on the floor. “why are you always so determined to see the worst in me?”
Again the softness in his tone gave you pause, the sincerity in it something you had only gotten used to in the past few weeks. “Anakin that’s all you’ve ever shown me”
“not lately” his reply came out rushed, a note of exasperation crawling its way onto his voice “lately we were good. At least I thought we were good”
You debated your next words for a second, debated how much vulnerability you were ready to show to the man who has been nothing but hot and cold with you for the past few weeks “I thought we were too”
“so what happened?”
“You tried to get me kicked off this mission” your answer was quick and blunt, eyes immediately picking up on the way his brow furrowed “don’t even try to deny it I heard you-“
“No that’s not-“ he cut you off quickly, letting out a frustrated sigh before continuing “I was trying to do the right thing”
“The right thing?” you echoed back now furrowing your own brow.
“You coming here was an unnecessary risk-“
“ah so you still don’t trust me” you interjected quickly, watching closely the way his entire body seemed to recoil at your words.
“What no-“
“we’ve spent weeks training, you’ve given me good advice, I’ve gotten better you’ve said so yourself. So I don’t get why you still don’t-“
“it’s not that-“
“So then what you still can’t stand to be alone with me for that long?”
“Y/N!” he finally cut you off with a small shout, crouching down in front of you close enough that he nearly occupied your entire field of vision, physically forcing you to pay attention to him rather than let your mind run any longer. “I was just trying to protect you”
Your eyes bounced back and forth between his for a moment, trying to decern the truth, trying to find the underlying meaning. “I don’t know why you think I need your protection. I can handle myself”
Another dejected sigh from Anakin, neither of you moving for a tense few seconds before you heard a muttered “forget it” underneath his breath as he pushed himself up to a standing position.
“we need to get out of here” he offered a hand to you, helping you stand though kept his gaze planted on the back door of the building “we’ll stick to the alleyways and use nothing but blasters if we have to, the sabers will be a dead giveaway”
And though you wanted to push the subject more you knew he was right, get yourself through this mission and you could go back to avoiding Anakin Skywalker. It had quickly become a mantra for you.
You let him pull you softly out the back door, Anakin carefully checking around each corner before ushering you forward, helping you hobble on your one good leg slowly back towards your ship. That was until you heard an eerily familiar voice around the next bend.
“Find the jedi scum and bring them to me. The separatists have plans so I want them alive do you understand me?”
Anakin didn’t hesitate before pushing you back against the nearest wall, using his own body to try and shield yours from view as he pinned you against it, one arm bracing himself against it just over your head.
You looked up at him with wide eyes as the two of you listened intently, footsteps slowly drawing much too close for your comfort.
From this distance you could clearly see the set in Anakin’s jaw as he kept his eyes planted at the nearest corner, muscles tense ready to pounce at a moments notice. That was when the thought struck you.
“Quick kiss me”
Anakin’s entire body froze at your words, his eyes snapping to meet yours blown wide in confusion and shock.
“Come across two people kissing in an alleyway they’re certainly not going to expect them to be jedi so quick” You explained in a harsh whisper, giving his robes a quick tug.
Anakin, however, stayed rooted in place, elbow on his arm planted on the wall locking in place to prevent him from getting any closer to you, wide eyes cemented on your face as his chest didn’t even rise with breath.
“Ani quick” you hissed, trying to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.
The footsteps continued to grow louder, the soft drag of a heel against the pavement your only indication that they were steps away from your hiding spot.
Anakin still didn’t respond, gave no indication that he had heard you after your first command. To no avail you tried to silently beg him to move with your eyes.
“Hey what’re you-“
That was all you let them get out before you made your next decision, grabbing for the blaster on Anakin’s hip you aimed and fired, the shot hitting them square in the forehead sending the hunter to the ground before they could even finish their question.
The blaster noise seemed to finally snap Anakin out of it, a soft shake to the Jedi’s head being the only indication that anything had been wrong as he wordlessly pushed himself off of you and snapped his gaze down to the dead man before you.
“What the fuck was that Anakin?” You hissed, giving his chest a small shove.
Anakin’s eyes, however, never strayed from the unconscious body beneath your feet, his chest heaving with each breath as he kept his jaw locked in place.
“Anakin” you tried calling his name again, another push to his chest, still his eyes never strayed from the ground, his body staggering slightly as he let you push him “you blew our cover and because what? You’re so disgusted by me you can’t put up with one stupid kiss for half a second?”
Finally you got a reaction, his stark blue eyes finally snapping up to meet yours, a steel hard gaze you weren’t entirely prepared for, eyes that begged you to drop it.
You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at his look, limping a few steps back from him as you shook your head, the heels of your palms coming up to dig tiredly into your eyes “Even after all that’s happened you really still hate me so much you’d jeopardize the mission to get out of a kiss”
“It can’t happen like that” His voice surprised you, the words in of themselves confusing but his tone throwing you off more than anything, an almost pained ring in it sending you sparling.
“What?”
A quiet swear from under his breath as he started to pace “Our first” he called louder, as if that were an  explanation, his hands clenching at his sides “It shouldn’t happen like that, it can’t”
And you could feel the frustration start to rise within you, the anger from his inaction ebbing to confusion “Ani slow down what is happening right now”
The nickname seemed to have the desired effect, his pace slowing to a soft stop, eyes snapping up to meet yours once again, an almost guilty expression on his face as he stood before you, Anakin Skywalker looking almost small before you for the first time ever “Do you know how many times I’ve thought of it?” he asked you softly, an anxious hand running through his hair as his eyes broke to look at anything but you “How many times I almost just-“ and he cut himself off with a sigh, a soft shake in his head as he looked down at his shoes, a small scoff escaping before he continued “to think that the first time it would happen was to maintain some stupid cover. That it didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t do it”
A part of your brain was lighting up with realization, another part pushing it back down with denial. He couldn’t be talking about kissing you, not now, not after sending you years of signals that said otherwise “Anakin what are you saying?”
His eyes connected with yours again, a pained expression and a small tilt of his head telling you to stop pretending you didn’t know, begging you to move past faking obliviousness.
But still a part of you was reeling back, sending a huff of air through your nose as you shook your head “How many times could you have really thought about it, you just started being nice to me a week ago”
“Years worth” the words came out on his next exhale, a small shrug in his shoulder as he answered “at least since we were nine”
But that didn’t make any sense, that couldn’t possibly be true “This isn’t funny”
A small bitter laugh escaped him in response, a soft shake of his head as he spoke “believe me sweetheart I’m not laughing”
You barely registered the words, your mind already reeling as it went over every thing he’s ever said to you since then, “you’ve been nothing but mean to me since I’ve met you” your words were soft, spoken more to yourself than to him but still Anakin opened his mouth to respond, your voice cutting him off before he could “always criticizing me in front of the masters, mocking my attempts to learn, making me doubt my own abilities”
“I’m sorry”
And some part of your brain registered that those were not words Anakin used lightly, knew the weight those words held for him. Another part knew it still wasn’t enough.
“You’re sorry?” You scoffed “you made me dread every moment I had to spend in your presence for years and the best you have is I’m sorry?”
Anakin had no response to that, his jaw visibly clenching as he fought to maintain eye contact with you, but no words came, he had no excuse, no real way to make up for it, and you both knew it.
“Why?” and the question shouldn’t matter to you, the ends didn’t justify the means, they couldn’t, but still you needed to know.
Anakin took a second, drawing in a deep breath as his gaze shifted to your feet, a small shrug of one shoulder before he answered “I wanted to get your attention”
And like that you were ready to start yelling again, because surely it wasn’t that simple, surely Anakin wasn’t that stupid, that childish. Instead, he continued on.
“I don’t think I realized that was what it was at first, just knew I liked it when you got in my face and pushed back, liked when you got so wrapped up in me that the rest of the world ceased to exist for a little bit” another pause, another deep breath “then once I figured it out I knew I needed to shut it down, the code meant I couldn’t get close, couldn’t form attachments. Pissing you off felt like a good way to keep you at arm’s length while still getting you to notice me”
A million different emotions swirled around inside of you, each trying to claw their way to the surface. You wanted to yell at him, tell him how stupid that was, berate him for having the emotional regulation skills of a child. You wanted to stay silent, let him stew in his miserly, in his guilt. You wanted to cry, the catharsis, the confusion, the mix of conflicting emotions all welling up inside of you, overwhelming you.
Instead, you spoke softly, your voice sounding almost hollow on your own ears “you know when you first came to the temple all the other kid’s thought you were weird”
Anakin’s gaze shot up to meet yours, a slight furrow in his brow as he tried to figure out where you were going with this.
“Looking back I think they were just jealous. You came in later than the rest of us but you already had a master, Obi-wan Kenobi at that, and you already had the councils attention, so they all tried to stay away from you” you took a deep breath, swallowing down the slight shake in it “I thought that was dumb and that I was going to be your friend so I went up to you and I was nice. And at first I thought you were nice. Maker I was so excited to make a new friend and then the next time I saw you it was like a switch had been flipped” Anakin’s disappointed sigh barely registered as you continued “so I tried to be funny, then entertaining, then chill. I tried everything I could to be someone who was worth your time”
You could practically hear Anakin’s teeth grinding as he clenched his fist at his side, leaning back to slump against the wall as he thought for a moment before speaking.
“When I first got to the temple I was scared.” He admitted softly, gaze casted out blankly to the wall on the other side of the alley “I had just lost Qui-Gon, the council didn’t seem to like me, I missed my mother. Then out of nowhere this beautiful girl my age came up to me, took my hand and told me that it was going to be okay, that I was going to be okay, and she said it with such conviction that I couldn’t help but believe her”
You waited with bated breath for him to go on, for him to fill in the gaps of your own story.
“Then what the council said to me about fear hit and I became ashamed of having been a coward, ashamed of needing someone to hold my hand, ashamed of being weak”
You couldn’t have stopped the small chuckle from escaping if you had tried “Anakin you are a lot of things but weak isn’t one of them”
He finally met your gaze at the sound, the corner of his lips tilting up in response “I certainly made sure it appeared that way”
Another silence blanketed the two of you as you each digested the others story, Anakin finally breaking it with a soft chuckle “you were an intimidating kid you know that?”
“I was not” you denied it with an easy shake of your head, barely giving the statement any thought.
“you were” he persisted nonetheless “you were the perfect jedi student, Obi-wan was always on me about being more like you. Listening to him better, meditating better, paying more attention in class”
“Bet that didn’t help the whole hating me thing” there was no resentment in your voice, a soft understanding if anything.
“Don’t you get it sweetheart” he smiled sadly “I’ve never hated you. I’m not sure I could if I tried”
You shook your head softly at that, eyes casted out over the alley around you, speaking after another short beat “come on Skywalker, let’s get back to the ship”
Anakin stayed leaned against the wall for another moment, giving himself a pause to study you before he pushed himself up and offered you his arm to help you walk with a small nod.
You hobbled further down the ally with his help, nothing but the sounds of your deep breaths until you spoke in little more than a whisper “you know you were so busy ‘not hating’ me I don’t think I ever got to know the real Anakin Skywalker”
There was a slight pause in his step at your words, his eyes shooting to the side to meet yours as he raised a brow “are you sure you want to?”
“If he’s anything like the man I’ve been around for the past few weeks” you answered with a small shrug “then yeah. I really do”
Anakin’s face broke out into a wide grin at your words, and you found yourself admiring it once again, for the first time your own mind remaining quiet as you did rather than chastising you for it as usual.
“I’ll try not to disappoint Y/N”
You chuckled softly at that, “Given your previous experience you’ve set the bar exceptionally low” you pointed out giving his shoulder a playful shove “ but I’ll hold you to that”
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buddieism · 2 months
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tommy's character, bucktommy's inherent flaws, tommy & eddie as mirrors and buddie endgame; a (lengthy) meta analysis
honestly, what's really confirmed my feelings about tommy (and the imminent bucktommy bones -> buddie pipeline) is that there have now been multiple opportunities for the writers to actually make tommy a likeable/serious love interest for buck and they just…haven’t. because while fans are naturally going to overanalyse every little thing, the vast majority of the show's audience are regular viewers who consume the show at face value and don't think twice about it -- so if tommy was intended to be buck's endgame or anything remotely close to it, they'd absolutely want to make the most of his (very limited) screen time to present him in the best light they could. think about karen, the only non-main LI, and how she was introduced to us -- despite hen's cheating, we can see how dedicated karen and hen are to each other and how karen is a complex character in her own right who is immediately easy to root for and love.
comparatively, when we look at tommy's s7 appearances and specifically his interactions with buck, it becomes abundantly clear that there isn't really much depth to their relationship at all. which is fine! it's just... you know. fine. let's get into it.
following the cruise arc, we watch tommy through buck's eyes in 7x04 where he's basically wining and dining eddie -- flying him to vegas, getting them front row tickets to a fight, sparring with him in muay thai, playing pick up basketball with him -- tommy and eddie are so similar (which we'll come back to later), and we even get that line from eddie about how well they "click." as the audience, we are being subconsciously told to align tommy and eddie together -- and furthermore, we are told that tommy can easily make grand gestures when he wants to. now let's compare that to the bucktommy moments of the season.
bucktommy's first date: tommy makes a shady comment that would have outed buck if eddie or marisol caught onto it and then proceeds to abandon him on the sidewalk because he thinks buck isn't "ready" for a relationship with a man
i'll be objective here -- i understand in a show like 911 there's always going to be "unnecessary" relationship conflict for the sake of drama and i can also see how buck trying to play off their date as platonic to eddie might have put a bad taste in tommy's mouth. but we hear from tommy himself that he struggled with being open about his sexuality when he was at the 118 so he could have absolutely extended some sympathy towards buck for not wanting to come out on the spot to his best friend -- especially when tommy fully knows how important of a role eddie plays in buck's life. at the very least, he didn't have to leave buck alone on the curb. this isn't me trying to woobify buck because yeah, he's a grown man, he's fine -- but that doesn't mean it still isn't a bit of an asshole move.
the bachelor party: tommy doesn't dress up for the theme and dismisses buck when he's clearly disappointed about him doing so
tommy showing zero interest for the bachelor party buck planned is practically the writers waving a massive red flag in front of the camera -- him having to leave because he's on call is an understandable 'conflict' plot point but why not have him show up in an 80s themed outfit? it wouldn't have changed anything except that he and buck would have had a positive interaction; buck would have been happy that tommy cared enough to make that small gesture and it could have been a cute way to establish their relationship as one built on mutual effort. (btw, the bucktommy hospital kiss could be seen as a big gesture, sure -- but from a more practical viewpoint knowing how rushed this season had to be, it was also just an easy way for buck to "come out" to the rest of the 118 without having to spend too much episode airtime on it.)
the medal ceremony: tommy says 'enjoy it while it lasts' (which, LOL) and also is not shown reacting to buck receiving his medal. he also has a conversation with henren in a deleted scene.
again, i'm going to try to give tommy the benefit of the doubt -- i'm not saying he has to be sunshine and rainbows all the time and i have no issue with a character having a snarky/sarcastic side. but when his screentime is so minimal, every line of dialogue matters. and it's pretty damning that the writers aren't taking those few chances to give us something to appreciate about him. with buck, tommy makes a dismissive comment for literally zero reason, and with hen and karen, who are rightfully looking out for their friend, tommy refuses to take them seriously at all.
bucktommy's dinner in the finale: buck displays some vulnerability about losing bobby, and tommy... really doesn't seem to care.
honestly i refuse to rewatch this part of the ep because it really icks me out on another level but iirc: buck says he's glad bobby's okay because bobby is like the father he never had -> tommy says "your father's alive" -> something something joke about daddy issues. ignoring #that joke entirely, it's really insane to me that they have tommy even acknowledge the nuclear bomb that is buck's relationship with his parents. yes, we had a bit of a ham-fisted 'redemption arc' in s6 but that doesn't negate the buckley parents being absolutely heinous and the fact that buck verbalises how bobby played the role of the father figure because philip didn't -- all for tommy to basically deny that to his face -- is absurd. tommy has expressed on multiple occasions that he's jealous of the 118 family bond, so this line is just... very interesting to me.
now, let's recap all these events and bring eddie back into the mix!
post-bucktommy's first date, buck is more torn up about the fact that he lied to eddie than the actual date to the point that he has to vent to maddie about it. he then comes out to eddie, who is incredibly supportive (and oliver and ryan make some very curious acting choices indeed). eddie is reiterated as one of buck's most significant relationships.
pre-bachelor party, eddie is the one to suggest he and buck dress in matching (queer-coded) costumes. he then stays by buck's side at the party when everyone else leaves and although we'll never get to see it (tim minear i'm inside your walls👹), they sing an absurdly romantic karaoke song together. eddie is reiterated as one of buck's most significant relationships.
during the medal ceremony, when the camera pans to each member of the 118's love interest/family, it is eddie we are shown smiling at buck, not tommy. this is especially interesting considering we get buck reacting to tommy. i honestly can't get over how a reciprocated tommy reaction would have been an easy yet significant moment to cement bucktommy as a relationship, but they gave us eddie's instead (with chris in the background and marisol conveniently obscured, mind you). eddie is reiterated as one of buck's most significant relationships.
in the final episode, when eddie is experiencing his personal worst nightmare, buck is the one at eddie's side every step of the way. buck talks to christopher, buck reassures eddie (without judgement), and it's made clear that buck will be there for eddie, whatever he needs.
at every possible opportunity, we the audience are being implicitly told that eddie is buck's person. he is his place of support (buck having his more vulnerable coming out scene with eddie rather than his sister); he has buck's back (the bachelor party); he is his family (medal ceremony reaction), and ultimately, this goes both ways (finale).
some other things worth noting: when buck has his coming out scene with maddie, she tells him he's confused about his feelings in a way that seems to indicate she's talking about his feelings towards eddie ("if you there's something you need to tell eddie, you will"). in bobby's conversation with buck in the firehouse, he's verbally supportive of tommy and even asks if buck is going to see him, but buck goes to eddie's house instead. these were deliberate choices made by the writers; eddie has been consistently intertwined in bucktommy's relationship both overtly and subtextually throughout the entirety of s7. and let's not even get into the whole 'evan' thing, because that could be a whole other post in itself.
from the first moment we start to learn about tommy's character (beyond his... coloured past), we find out that he and eddie are practically mirrors. why not make tommy and buck share similar interests? why not give them something to bond over? why present tommy and eddie as almost identical in every way? because tommy is a placeholder for eddie. buck's initial bisexuality journey can't happen with eddie when eddie still hasn't come to terms with his own feelings. so, in the meantime, tommy is the "safe" choice in buck's mind because buck has nothing to lose with tommy whereas he's got everything to lose with eddie. buck can't confront what he truly wants yet because the risk factor is far greater and it's been repeatedly asserted that buck has an issue with people in his life leaving -- he would never do anything to jeopardise his relationship with eddie.
but ultimately (and in my opinion, fairly soon), we are going to get that moment where it "clicks" for buck and he realises that it is eddie he has feelings for. and when that happens, there's basically only one way it can go. we know buck can't keep secrets from eddie; we know eddie is going into s8 feeling "isolated"; we know tim loves making his characters suffer before they can be happy. in my mind, the narrative is going to go something like this: buck feelings realisation -> pining buck era -> eddie healing journey and a reevaluation of what buck means to him -> some insane life-threatening situation that really doubles down on how buck and eddie care more about each other than anyone else because it is 9-1-1 at the end of the day -> love confession induced by their dramatic near-death experience -> #BUDDIE_CANON !
when we factor in how there was a possibility of eddie having the sexuality arc this season instead, how tim has said buddie is one of his favourite dynamics of the show, and how supportive both oliver and ryan are of the ship, i really can't see how everything isn't building to buddie endgame. every other main pairing of the show has had seasons of development, of conflict, of bonding moments. buck and eddie have gone through that with each other time and time over (tsunami/lawsuit/shooting arc etc), which is why every other random love interest that's introduced for either of them falls flat in comparison. they quite literally are exactly what the other person needs; buck wants the stability of a home, a family, and unconditional love; eddie wants someone he can trust, a caretaker for his son but also a partner. buddie is the ship the audience wants to root for, because we know they work! now that we have canonically bisexual buck and eddie finally having to face his complicated feelings about losing shannon, buddie isn't just the logical conclusion -- it's the inevitable one.
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holllandtrash · 1 year
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you know 6 to 1 yn said something about carlos’s mustache and lando threatened to grow his hair back out of playful jealousy
word count: 4.1k tags/warnings: some angst, jealousy, mentions of smut kind of part of the 6 to 1 series
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 off to Canada 🇨🇦 let's keep pushing
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scuderiaferrari now that's a smoooth operator
spicysainzz its illegal for a man to look this good
ynleclerc god don't tell me you're growing out your facial hair now too
carlossainz55 you love it ynleclerc sure
“Oh so you like Carlos’ facial hair?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” You didn't look up from the cutting board, already deciding that whatever Lando was on about wasn’t as important as making dinner.
“You like his facial hair,” Lando repeated, a statement this time. 
It was impossible to not give him any attention when he shoved his phone in your face. You took a breath, asking yourself what you were getting yourself into as you dropped the knife on the counter and tuned in on his screen, more specifically, at the comment you had left on Carlos’ most recent picture. 
“It’s a harmless comment,” you scoffed, knowing that your friendship with Carlos was nothing for him to worry about, yet he always seemed to be triggered by the most mundane things. 
“But you like his facial hair.”
“Are those the only words you know how to say?” 
You pushed the phone out of your face and turned properly to face him, only then seeing that he wasn’t taking this conversation as a joke the same way you were. His jaw had tightened, the lines in his forehead displayed his very prominent annoyance and you flipped a switch to react accordingly, hand going up to cup his cheek
“Lando,” you said, a slight shake of the head. “You’re being dramatic. I commented on my friend's photo. Who is also your friend. It’s nothing to get worked up over, okay?”
Lando and Carlos were still two peas in a pod. Their bond was unbreakable but since you started dating you could tell he was always slightly on edge whenever you and Carlos were alone together. And of course Lando trusted you, you’re the one person who held his heart he knew you wouldn’t do anything to damage it.
It was Carlos he didn’t trust. 
He didn’t like that Carlos had never once talked to Lando about the kiss you had shared. It was this strange, unspoken thing, but when you tried to explain how weird it would be for Carlos to approach him and say ‘hey, I had feelings for your girlfriend and we kissed but don’t worry about’ it didn’t really click for Lando. 
So he just held his breath and watched from a distance whenever you interacted with the Spanish driver and if he felt your conversations lingered a little too long for his liking, he’d find a way to pull you aside and remind you who exactly you were in the paddock for. 
He had no control over what happened on Instagram, though. And it wasn’t like he was going to tell you to unfollow your brother's teammate, so he just ignored any bitter thoughts that came to mind if he saw your name show up in Carlos’ likes. 
But that comment. 
It was friendly, sure, but it was the fact that it was on the topic of facial hair that really stung. Lando knew how much you hated his facial hair when he tried to grow it out and the only reason he ended up shaving was because you made your dislike for it so abundantly clear. 
So why the fuck did you not hate it on Carlos?
Carlos didn’t have as difficult of a time growing out the stubble like Lando did. And his already prominent moustache was just only going to get thicker and you didn’t hate it. It was clear by your comment, despite it being sarcastic, that you didn’t hate it. 
And Lando hated that.
“You’re really bothered by this,” you said aloud when it sunk in that this wasn’t something Lando would get over after a good night's sleep. 
“I am, yes.”
“And what's bothering you, exactly? The fact that I commented on his picture?” You asked, wanting to get to the root of the problem. “Or are you annoyed that I had a different reaction to his facial hair than I did with yours?”
Lando hesitated before finally muttering a quiet, “Both.”
You rolled your eyes and pushed on his chest, wanting not only a bit of space from his childish ways of thinking but also wanting to finish dinner. You picked up the knife and went back to mincing the pepper, not about to coddle Lando or assure him that he had nothing to worry about because this was a conversation you had had way too many times for your liking and if he didn’t know you loved him by now then that was his problem. 
But Lando wasn’t about to move on as easy as you had, “I’m just saying-” 
“I don’t want to hear it,” You cut him off, voice shaper than the knife in your hand. Each cut against the board echoed in the confined space and Lando could tell you were applying more pressure than needed, relying on your actions to show that you really didn’t want to have this conversation.
And Lando stayed quiet for the rest of the night. Not just about the picture, but in general. When you asked him to set the table, he did so without his usual childish complaints. The conversation between you during dinner was cold and distant but you didn’t want to press further, knowing that he’d get over this in his own way.
You thought things were fine when he crawled into bed shortly after you did because he curled his arm around your waist like normal, pulling you against his chest as his soft breath hit your neck. You whispered ‘goodnight to him, but his lack of response wasn’t something you thought too much about. 
It wasn’t until you woke up did the trouble really begin. 
You walked into the bathroom first thing in the morning, rubbing your eyes and the residue of mascara that didn’t come off after washing your face last night. After turning on the sink and letting the water run, you wiped a disposable cloth over your face and tossed it out immediately after. Naturally, the rest of your morning routine would have followed, had a perfectly good electric razor not have caught your eye at the top of the garbage can.
“Lando!” You basically screamed, knowing he was in the inbetween stages of awake and asleep when you had gotten out of bed. You heard the rustling of sheets and the patter of footsteps as you grabbed the razor out of the bin. 
When you turned around, one hand resting on your hip you saw a very tired Lando standing in the hallway. Usually the sight of him bare chested and wearing nothing but boxers was enough to have you contemplating dragging him back to bed, but not this time.
“What is this?” You asked, so obviously talking about the razor Lando had thrown out the night prior. “A peaceful protest?”
Lando looked at you and then at the little contraption and then back at you, a hint of a playful smile on his face. Of course now he thought this was funny.
“Yeah that’s a good way to put it.” 
“Are you fu-” you sucked in a breath to avoid losing your shit on him five minutes after waking up. “Why?”
“Because I’m growing out my facial hair again.”
“Why?” 
“Oh is that the only word you know how to say?” Lando asked, mimicking your question from last night with more sarcasm than you wanted to deal with at nine in the morning.
You rolled your eyes and shoved the razer into his chest before storming past him, dragging your fingers through the roots of your hair while he was forced to call your name, stopping you from slamming the door to the bedroom.
“What?” Lando asked, voice raised. “Why are you so upset about this?”
Your hands tensed, cupping your own face as you exhaled into your palms before your arms fell back to your side, “I’m upset because you clearly are doing this because of that stupid comment on Carlos’ picture.”
“Maybe I just want to grow my facial hair out again,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall as he crossed his arms over his chest. He hadn’t thrown the razor out again, but that didn’t give you any sort of hope that he would hear you out.
“You don’t,” you scoffed. “You told me yourself it wasn’t permanent the first time. You just wanted to try it out. You tried it and it turns out, not for you.”
“Maybe I’ll like it more the second time.”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him, instead choosing to turn on your heels and start to walk into your bedroom, muttering a quiet, “Maybe I’ll hate it more the second time”
“Oh but you love Carlos’ facial hair.”
That stopped you in his tracks. Lando finally admitting that it was, in fact, the comment that was getting to him. Carlos and your interaction was the catalyst to all of this and instead of Lando seeing it as an exchange between friends, he was taking it personally.
You turned back around and walked right up to him, nearly chest to chest when he straightened up from the wall. Lando and you didn’t usually fight, both of you knew how important communication and trust was and it was and after the rocky start you had, you never wanted to go back to a place of uncertainty with him.
But this was fucking annoying.
“That’s what you’re mad about, huh?” You asked, holding his stare. “The fucking comment. And you think that growing your facial hair out is, what, a way to get back at me? Because you know I hate it?”
Lando said nothing, a dead giveaway that you were 100% right and he was simply being immature for the sake of being immature. 
“Okay,” you nodded, throwing Lando off when your tone went from deadly to calm before he could blink. “You want to be mad? Fine. I’ll give you something to be mad about.”
Lando watched as you walked back to the room and he hesitantly followed, trying to make sense of whatever that ominous warning was that just came out of your mouth. He didn’t say anything when you walked out of the closet, fully dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. An Enchante t-shirt even though he thought you were past wearing Danny’s merch. He didn’t say anything when you grabbed a backpack from under the bed and put your wallet and a few other necessities in there because it wasn’t like you were packing. This flat in London was basically your second home and this spat seemed too minor for you to be packing up your things and leaving.
But you were going somewhere.
“Where the hell are you going?” Lando asked when you finished brushing a comb through your hair. You slung the straps of the backpack over your shoulder and then, this was the kicker, you grabbed your passport that was sitting on top of the dresser.
You barely looked at him as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his before you headed straight for the door. 
“Back to Monaco. See you in Canada.”
—————
You were true to your word. Cutting off communication with Lando until you landed in Montreal the Thursday before the grand prix weekend started. 
Lando, in return, did not reach out. But he did make it perfectly obvious that he was growing out the facial hair again, making sure to post about it every chance he got. You swore you had never seen him share so many pictures on his photography account and were you a little upset he went to New York without you? Kind of, but you were stubborn and so was he and you had now found yourselves giving each other the cold shoulder over a goddamn comment on Carlos fucking Sainz’s instagram picture.
“What’s up with you and Lando?” Charles asked, an unmistakable pep in his voice that you raised your eyebrows at. He stood next to you on the balcony overlooking the paddock, arms rested over the railing and mirroring your position, but he cleared his throat and reworded his question. “It’s just, something’s up, no?”
You shouldn’t have been surprised he figured out there was tension. If Lando’s fans could put two and two together when you neglected to comment or even like any of his pictures, your own brother could figure it out too.
“He’s an idiot,” you rolled your eyes.
“Well I could have told you that,” Charles snorted. “What really happened?”
“I commented on Carlos’ picture a few weeks ago and Lando took it as me liking Carlos’ facial hair even though I made it perfectly clear I hated it when he was trying to grow out his hair.”
Charles took a second to repeat your words in his head, “He’s upset because you commented on Carlos’ moustache?”
You nodded, “And now he’s growing his facial hair out again out of spite.”
“This is about so much more than facial hair isn’t it?”
You clasped your hands together. You felt Charles’ eyes practically burning holes into the side of your head but you focused on the people wandering around the paddock. 
“He’s just dramatic and immature,” you muttered, deciding that was an easier answer than to have a whole therapy session with him. “He’ll learn his lesson, though. I have an idea.”
“Why do I have a feeling you are also about to be dramatic and immature?”
You laughed in response, right as you spotted the exact person you needed to help you with this idea. You patted Charles on the arm and told him you’d see him later before you all but sprinted down the stairs of the motorhome to chase after the other Ferrari driver.
“Carlos!” You called out, running after him before he could get too far. He turned around when he heard his name, a smile on his face when he recognized the voice belonging to you. 
You had to admit, the grown out facial hair did suit him. Carlos was always handsome but this made him look more mature, more distinguished. 
“I need you to do me a favour,” you said, a playful smile painted on your lips.
Carlos nodded, “This sounds like deja vu.”
“It has to do with getting back at Lando.”
“Now it really sounds like deja vu,” His eyes widened momentarily as he thought back to what happened in the club when you last asked for his help. He was still traumatised from that DJ set. But Carlos loved you, platonically of course, he would always help you. “What do you need, hermosa?”
A few photographers started to crowd you and usually at this point, any driver would continue walking to get away from the unscheduled media harassment. But this was what you needed.
You raised your hand up to his jaw, thumb tracing over the hair he was growing out as a shimmer of adoration glossed over your eyes. Your lips curled upwards and Carlos, even though he was certainly confused, played along, loving any excuse to mess with Lando.
“Just tell me to kiss you and I will,” Carlos joked quietly, face only inches from yours, and you pushed on his chest in response. He caught you a little off guard when he reached for your hand and pulled you back before you could force some space between you. 
You glanced at his lips as Carlos held your hand between your bodies. You reached up with your other hand to cup his chin lightly, thumb dangerously close to his lips. To anyone walking by, it most likely looked like you were about to kiss him.
But you got all that you needed.
“Thank you,” you whispered, shooting him a wink before you pulled yourself from his grasp and walked back to the Ferrari motorhome, knowing that the media was about to have a field day with those photos. 
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You didn’t see Lando at all in the paddock. Whether that was intentional on his behalf or not, you had no idea. You did, however, see your name blowing up on twitter along with all of the comments about how you and Carlos looked too damn friendly to be just friends. 
Lando’s text came about an hour after your name started trending. 
Charles told you that you potentially took it a step too far, having a few choice words himself to say about you and Carlos, all of which you tuned out and told him you knew what you were doing. 
But you weren’t entirely sure who had the upper hand when you got your key from the receptionist and made your way up to Lando’s suite at the end of the night. You purposely took your time getting there, deciding to go out for dinner with a friend first before finding yourself at his hotel.
And now you were holding your breath as the card reader turned green and unlocked. You pushed the door open, not having anticipated seeing Lando sitting on the couch and leaning forward as he scrolled through his laptop that was perched on the coffee table. He heard you walk in, heard you put your bag on the counter, heard you slide your shoes off and clear your throat, but he didn’t look up once.
Lando simply turned the laptop around on the table so the screen was facing you instead. On the screen was a tweet, or maybe it was a photo from Instagram, you were standing too far away to tell the source but you could make out the image of you and Carlos.
More specifically, the image of you holding your hand against Carlos’ cheek and giving him the smile that was usually reserved for Lando. One he hadn’t seen in almost two weeks.
He clicked on the trackpad and the next one appeared. Much more intimate than the last as this was the photo that gave Lando a heart attack. He didn’t expect to open his phone after the media pen interview and see pictures of his girlfriend about to kiss his best friend.
You didn’t regret what you did, that little act. You didn’t actually do anything except plant an idea in Lando’s head.
“What do you want me to say?” You asked, gesturing to the laptop. You took a few, horribly slow, steps forward. You were nervous about how this conversation would go, but you knew how to mask your emotions enough and as Lando stood up, eyeing you over, you didn’t buckle under the weight of his gaze.
He scratched his chin, his overgrown stubble, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth.
You expected him to snap. To say something about the facial hair, about the photos, about Carlos. You hadn’t seen each other in weeks and you assumed that the first conversation you had would be a fight, because, let’s face it, you were both dramatic and immature.
But you didn’t expect his shoulders to drop and for his stare to go from cold to distant as he opened his mouth and asked a question that broke you the way nothing else in your life ever could.
“Do you love me?”
It caught you by surprise, “Do I-” You took a few steps forward, the wall you had up had now fallen and all you wanted to do was reach for him. “Why are you even asking that? Of course I love you. You know I love you.”
“So then why?” He asked, referring to the photos.
You exhaled a breath before responding, “Because you were making a big deal out of that stupid comment, Lando.”
He stepped forward too, closing the gap between you inch by inch, “I made the appropriate amount of deal over seeing my girlfriend flirt with someone on social media.”
He hadn’t raised his voice, not yet. It seemed that you both wanted to avoid that. You weren’t ones to yell at each other, you argued, yes, but your voices never echoed off the walls. 
And you didn’t want to yell, not when you knew what this was really about.
Your lips parted, but you barely got a thought out, “Lando-”
“He still has feelings for you.” He stated, as if Carlos had told him that himself. “He still likes you and I know- I know you guys are friends, I can’t tell you not to be friends but I don’t like the way he looks at you. I don’t like that you are blissfully unaware that he’s into you, that he’s-”
“No, you know what I don’t like?” You cut him off sharply. “I don’t like that this is clearly something that’s bothering you and instead of talking about it to me from the beginning, you let it simmer and focus on things like comments and facial hair and being childish, Lando.” 
When you stepped forward, Lando thought you were about to lose it on him. Instead, you lifted your hands to cup beneath his jaw, your thumbs gently tracing small circles on his cheek and Lando could finally breathe because this was the first time in days he was feeling your touch and even though things were strange between you, your hands holding his face in font of yours felt right.
“You need to talk to me about these things,” you told him. “If something’s eating at you like this. How was I supposed to know this was so much bigger than a stupid fucking moustache?”
Lando laughed at your question, because it really was insane when he thought about it. He should have told you about his distrust with Carlos instead of letting his frustration boil up.
“Lando, I love you,” you whispered with a soft chuckle. “I love everything about you, everything that matters. Your heart, your soul, the way you treat people, your sense of humour, the way I can trust you with absolutely everything, how you managed to win over my entire family and for fucks sakes, yes, I absolutely hate your facial hair but have you ever stopped and thought about why?” 
Of course he hadn’t. Lando acted first and thought later.
He hesitated before asking, “Why?”
The corners of your mouth turned upwards, your eyes darting down to his lips as you pulled him closer, his hands finding your waist. 
You lips hovered over his, teasing him with a ghost of a kiss, something just within his reach but when he tried to connect your lips you kept pulling back, leaving him hanging.
“Because it itches.”
Lando pulled his head back, still in your grasp but no longer trying to kiss you as confusion flashed over his features instead.
“Itches?”
“Itches,” you repeated with a slow nod. “I don’t like your facial hair-” you ran your thumb over his chin and the stubble he had grown out. “-because when you go down on me, it. Itches.”
Lando opened his mouth, only to close it promptly while your words sunk in. Of course that had never crossed his mind, that the feeling of his facial hair rubbing against the inside of your thighs, near your folds, would cause displeasure. 
“And I’m sorry about the incident with Carlos,” you continued on, knowing you had to address it. “I’m not making excuses but if you are acting childish, I- in return -will also act childish. If I had known it was about more than facial hair, I wouldn’t have caused such a scene but god, Lando, I don’t give a shit about Carlos growing out a beard or a moustache because it’s not his lips on me. It’s not him eating me out.”
Lando cleared his throat, not surprised that you were so blunt with your choice of words. You always were. He was surprised, though, when you stepped away from him and turned around, leaving him a little speechless as you walked towards the bedroom.
Before stepping through the door frame, you glanced over your shoulder and raised your eyebrows at him, “Are you just going to stand there?”
That got him moving. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off as he followed your footsteps, discarding the top behind him. When his arms slid around your waist, pulling your back into his chest, you melted into his hold.
You craned your neck, giving him more than enough access to press his lips to your skin. Your hands covered his as the quietest moan followed a strained exhale. He trailed his lips upwards, but refrained from going further, lifting his head up after just a few seconds.
You turned and looked at him, spotting that stupid grin on his face. 
He nudged you towards the bed, “Get comfy, my love, I need to take care of something first.”
You didn’t need to question what he had to take care of. He planted a kiss on your cheek and retreated towards the bathroom. Doing what he said, you climbed atop the bed and you as well, had a stupid grin on your face when you overheard the dull sound of an electric razor trailing in from the hallway.
And god was it music to your ears.
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wynnyfryd · 10 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 32
part 1 | part 31 | ao3
cw: explicit sexual content, smoking
"Holy shit," Steve gasps as he shudders through aftershocks. Holy shit. Holy shit. He's never coming alone again; wonders if he could get away with asking Eddie to record some sort of audio for future use, because- because fuck.
Eddie's incredible. Made him tease himself for what felt like hours — featherlight caresses over his stomach, his hips, his thighs — and when he finally let him come, Steve nearly fucking died. Supernovas in his vision, trumpeting angels in his ears. Alpha and Omega; the beginning and the end type of shit. His heart went all off rhythm, and his entire body shook, and that melted honey feeling crystalized inside his chest; a sugar cube embedded in the center of his heart.
"Holy shit," Eddie echoes on the tail of a breathless laugh. He looks just as fucked out as Steve feels, flushed and fucking gorgeous, and Steve hears him shuffling around behind him; tucking himself back into his shorts, taking off his ruined shirt. He wipes his sticky hands on the fabric then moves to clean Steve up, using his t-shirt as a rag; dragging it over Steve's stomach, his pubes.
Steve giggles. "That tickles!"
"You're welcome," Eddie grins. He tosses the shirt onto the floor, and Steve moves to take his off.
"Here," he offers, "take mine." The thing's rucked up under his armpits, probably a little gross from sweat, but he doesn't want Eddie to be cold, and he especially doesn't want him to get up to find a new one. Feels like he might evaporate if Eddie leaves right now.
Eddie pushes him back down gently, and when he looks at him, it feels... reverent.
Like adoration.
Sugar cubes.
"Nah, Stevie." He bends to kiss his forehead with a wet, playful smack. "You keep it."
Steve settles back between his thighs and peppers kisses over the tattoos he can reach, stopping at one he asked about earlier. The fluffy cloud, the sleeping fox. "Will you tell me about these now?" Another kiss. "If you want."
Eddie sighs and sits up straighter; lights himself a cigarette. He pokes at each tattoo in turn, the skin dimpling under his touch, and says, "Fox, and Skye. My half-siblings."
"You have siblings?"
"Sure do. Four and seven last time I saw ’em. And yes,” he adds with a smirk in his voice, “my mom was a dirty hippie, in case their names didn’t make that abundantly clear.”
Steve laughs under his breath. "I see why you didn't want to talk about that before."
He traces the outline of the art; thinks about all the other stuff he doesn't know about Eddie, about his life outside of school, outside of Hawkins. Startles himself a little with how badly he wants to learn.
“Son of a bitch…” Eddie whispers. He sounds like he’s talking to himself, and when Steve glances up at him, his gaze has drifted to the middle distance, staring somewhere past the mirror and the guitar hung on the wall.
“What is it?” Steve asks. A dark smudge of anxiety cuts through the afterglow. It's probably nothing, but three years of fighting monsters has set him permanently on edge.
“Nothing," Eddie assures, blinking fast to snap himself out of it. "Sorry. I'm just— just realizing they’re both way older now." He licks his upper lip; clucks his tongue. "Jesus. I haven’t seen them since ’79.”
Oh. “How come?” He probably shouldn’t ask. Feels intrusive and rude.
Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. “Oh, you know,” he answers, and his tone is flippant, swooping melody, but Steve can hear the vulnerable quiver lurking just below. The slightest tremor; a flicked bass string. “Pretty classic tale. Mom remarried, I was the moody teenage step-son getting in the way of the guy’s fresh start. Also,” he sucks in another puff of smoke, croaking on the exhale, “turns out hippies can be homophobes, too, so...”
“Wait, seriously?” Steve twists to sit upright, to spring into action, as if he’s about to— what, exactly? Fight the past on Eddie’s behalf? (He’d do it, for the record, but he’s pretty sure it’s not an option. Not unless one of El’s siblings knows how.) "Eddie, that sucks; I'm so sorry."
“Down, boy,” Eddie snorts, voice gone husky from the smoke. "It's fine; it's old news."
He clearly doesn't care to wallow when he just got his rocks off, so Steve eases himself back down; borrows the cigarette. When he hands it back he jokes, "Should I be worried that it’s, like, kinda hot when you talk to me like I'm a dog?”
Eddie hollers out a laugh, his head knocking against the wall, all those wild curls bouncing around his shaking shoulders. "Jesus Christ. You're fucking dangerous," he beams.
Steve smiles back; pokes the comic bubble on Eddie's knee. "You like danger."
"Little shit.” He rolls his eyes and smiles, softer now, biting it back. The cassette reaches its end. A peaceful hush falls over the room. "Yeah. I guess I do."
Later, when the moon is high and the weed's all gone and sleep tugs at their eyelids like a needy kid; when they're curled on their sides face-to-face on the bed, Eddie reaches across the gap between them and says, "Stay?"
Steve takes his hand; brushes his lips over bare knuckles. "Kiss me?"
"In the morning," Eddie promises. "If you still mean it, ask me then."
part 33
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