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#if I had the money I probably would quit. but I don’t. which is the problem
ilyrafe · 10 hours
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𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆
pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader
warnings: domestic violence, murder
word count: 1k
a/n: this is loosely based on the movie hit man (actually based on a scene lol)
taglist: @starkeyvhs
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unpretentiously, rafe enters the diner and sits at a table, facing the entrance, just so he can see who comes and goes. the young waitress takes his order - a cheeseburger with fries and a soda - and he waits.
strangely, he couldn’t find any pictures of y/n, the woman who contacted him. all he knew about her was her name, really. she only said the clothes she would be wearing - a pair of jeans and a large gray sweater, but anyone could be wearing that. she didn’t inform him about her physicality, and he couldn’t find anything about her online, which intrigued him a lot more.
she isn’t his first female client, but it’s still rare for him to have women wanting his services. 
his order comes and he keeps watching the entrance of the diner. all kinds of people come and go, young and older men, children, teenagers, and even some women, but none of them approach him.
when he’s taking the last sip of his soda, he sees a young looking woman walking towards him. she looks around, clearly nervous. she sits in front of him and rafe realizes it’s her.
“i contacted you yesterday.” she says, almost whispering.
she is visibly tense, probably her first time talking to a hitman.
“how can i help you, y/n?”
she sighs, contrasting with his own posture. she looks tired, the bags under her eyes are quite dark. her hair is lifeless, quite messy, as if she didn’t really have time to brush it or didn’t care to do it. her clothes aren’t new, and he notices a tiny stain that could be blood, but he’s not sure.
before she can say anything, she reaches for her bag and takes out a dark yellow package and slides it to him.
the cash.
“i need you to kill my husband.”
he could be wrong, but rafe is pretty sure there are tiny tears forming in her eyes. they look scared, devoid of any light or hope. to be honest, this woman is just existing.
“why?”
that seems to catch her by surprise. he doesn’t like the way she’s doing everything she can to look invisible. literally no one has noticed her presence there. the waitress hasn’t even come here to take her order.
“he… he’s awful.” she admits. “i don’t know what else to do. he won’t let me leave him. he… he gets drunk and then he…” she trails off, wiping away a few tears. “anything can set him off and i’m scared for my life. the police won’t do anything…”
the friction between the sleeve and the table causes the skin on her wrist to be exposed and he sees purple marks. if her wrist is that bad, he can’t even imagine the rest of her body.
rafe takes the cash in his hands and after two seconds of thought, he gives it back to her.
“do you have children?” she shakes her head. “then take this money and don’t go back home. go away and don’t look back. start over somewhere far away from here.”
“no, he’ll find me!”
the panic in her voice pains him so much.
“don’t worry about it. i’ll take care of him, but i need you to do what i say.”
“i don’t understand…”
“i don’t want your money. just give me a picture of him and his home address.”
after a few long seconds, she nods and takes a piece of torn photo, a piece of paper, and a pen from her purse. she writes down her home address and hands it over along with the picture of her husband.
she takes back the money and put it back in her purse. it’s all her life savings. the money she had to hide from her husband, so he wouldn’t spend on alcohol and drugs. rafe puts the items in his pocket and watches her leave the diner, hoping to god she listens to him and goes away. 
(...)
in his car, rafe watches the movement on the street outside your house.
ever since he left the diner, he has been monitoring your husband’s steps, and since then, he has not seen you coming home. hopefully you really did leave this place for good. 
rafe doesn’t know what possessed him to help you, he has never worked for free, and money is perhaps the most important thing in his life, but after seeing you, and understanding that hiring a hitman may have been your last option, he just wanted to do a good deed, since his job is only to kill people in exchange for money.
it is already dawn, two in the morning to be exact. all the neighbors seem to be asleep. when he is sure that he can act, rafe gets out of the car properly dressed for the killing - gloves, mask and a gun.
upon reaching the back door of the house, rafe notices that the door is unlocked, as are the windows.
strange.
prepared for any kind of situation, he enters the house silently. it is dark, so he turns on the kitchen light, and finds himself in a simple but messy kitchen, with food scraps in the sink. there are empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere, trash all over the place. just ahead, in the living room, lying on the floor, there is joshua, your husband, apparently passed out.
this will be easier than expected.
before doing anything to joshua, rafe searches your bedroom and sees that the closet is open and empty. well, there are just a few men’s clothes. all of your clothes are gone. you really are gone. you did go back home, but you're gone, and that’s what really matters.
a sense of relief washes over rafe, and it’s inexplicable. it’s like he really feels like he saved a life.
thinking about faking a suicide, he searches for a gun, and luckily finds one in the bathroom. after checking for ammo, he carefully places the gun in joshua’s hand and brings it to his temple. with his finger, he pulls the trigger.
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let me know your thoughts & if you want to be tagged :)))
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aeh2611 · 14 hours
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Swapping Daniel for the last six races seems like such a non-sensical idea.
I mean, as much as I hate to admit it and as much as I disagree with the way he was treated at Williams, I kind of understand swapping out Logan. Williams isn’t a big team, had just gone through a major update and simply doesn’t have the money to repair the car every other weekend, especially not without it being to the detriment of development of the 2025 car (and we all now they have high expectations for that season having signed both Alex and Carlos). And yes, Alex also crashed a lot, but between the two of them he was still less likely to do so and more likely to help them collect points which is crucial because… money.
But Daniel? First of all he has a wild following. Firing him right now, would make a lot of people pretty upset at a time where vcarb does not seem able to generate a lot of positive publicity. Because of his popularity Daniel also brings you quite a few sponsors. Sponsors, that they are definitely gonna loose if they fire him mid-season. Also, I just don’t see the on track advantage: for the past couple races vcarb hasn’t been anywhere. Like no one has been able to collect any points with Daniel and Yuki roughly on par with one another. So there is no big update that would allow a new driver coming in to suddenly gain them a big advantage like Franco Colapinto has for Williams. Lastly, Daniel seems to be the driver of the two able to communicate his struggles with the car to vcarb and aid in the development of the car since Yuki himself has said that that is an area he struggles with.
So in conclusion: Yeah, Danny Ric has probably not accomplished what he wanted when he joined vcarb and it’s a little bit of a sad story. But letting him go mid-season is not just sad, but also stupid and unnecessary. This isn’t Logan Sargeant all over again, because Daniel is not crashing the car and because as it stands there isn’t a lot of potential to heave that tractor into the points. I’m not saying that they shouldn’t swap him for 2025, but in my opinion there is not really an argument to be made about him being “bad enough” to fire him with 6 races to go.
Also I would like to add that Daniel loves RedBull and seeing him left out to dry like this with no announcement to be hounded by the media, basically saying his goodbyes without being confirmed to be leaving seems unnecessarily cruel.
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snowmoonwrites · 2 days
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Break Me Softly
Tokyo Debunker fic. Pairing: Kamurai Jin x MC/Reader
Smut, D/S, praise kink, got wholesome by the end, safewords, safe sane and consensual
It was one of the free nights that the academy allowed. Given that it was for a Halloween party that was organized off-campus with the Kamurai family’s money, it was near impossible not to allow students to attend. Aside from the academy it was also open for many more prestigious schools too, of course all participants were subjected to a thorough background check. No reason to put danger onto the general students’ life, or irritate the ghouls.
That’s how you found yourself in a, honestly, quite revealing dress which maybe could be said to resemble some witch outfit… but there was too little fabric for you to actually be sure about your assessment. Not like it mattered. The place is probably going to be reasonably dark to encourage students to dance. Maybe if you planned on bringing anyone back to your bed it would matter what exactly you are wearing. But, given that the only person you would want to bring back won’t be there, even though his family sponsors it… It really didn’t matter.
You have been in a relationship with the King of Ice for enough time to know that if Tohma didn’t physically force him out of his room, you will be left alone the whole night. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t the first it happened. You were a big girl.
That was what you said to yourself while drinking definitely non-alcoholic drinks and dancing with random people. It was quite a nice night. Then, over the shoulder of your dance partner, you saw the annoyed glint of icy-blue eyes drilling a hole into the boy. You didn’t even remember where he was from. Neither were you interested. But this. Oh, that dangerous glint in Kamurai Jin’s eyes. That started a fire in you. And you just loved to play with flames.
You let your hands caress the stranger’s shoulders as you leaned in closer, till their ear, little by little. Your body moved closer to his, pushing your breasts against his chest in your near-nothing clothing. Keeping up the eye-contact with Jin the whole time. In a blink he was next to you. You weren’t sure whether he used his sword, or he just walked really fast. Not that it mattered. In a second you were buried in his chest as he rumbled into your ear.
“We are going to my room.”
As usual, it was far from a request. Not like you cared in that moment. You were on fire, and the murderous gaze that he showed your dance partner only fanned the flames higher. In seconds you were back in his room, the chilly temperature not even registering on your heated skin. He sat on his bed, all nonchalant seeming now that he had you where he, but in reality you both wanted.
“Kneel” came the irrefutable order fueled by the sliver of skin contact left between your hands. 
You immediately dropped to your knees. Waiting for what he has planned for the night.
He looked at you, refraining from touching you for now.
“Was it fun?”
He didn’t have to elaborate. Your little scheme to set the fire of jealousy in him. Your little idea, which worked perfectly. You were actually pretty proud of yourself. It might have shown up on your face as he let out a chuckle.
“Shall I remind you who you belong to?” He didn’t wait for your answer as he reached out one elegant hand to make you look up at him. “How many do you deserve for this? One for each time that you touched him?  Answer honestly.” 
Your breath hitched. It was actually difficult to answer. Not because you didn’t know what he meant, but because you were so focused on Jin, you don’t even know how many times you touched that insignificant boy. You let his command wash over your memories, finding an acceptable answer for you.
“Twenty?”
His smirk got bigger as he let go of your chin.
“Get your upper half on the bed.” 
As you got into position, he lifted your skirt and let his fingers dig into your ass in a massaging manner to avoid causing serious harm. Once he was satisfied he got up from the bed.
“Count them out. Colour?”
“Green,” you breathed out. The second it was out of your mouth, his hand also came down in an arch onto one of  your cheeks. You yelped out, then remembering called out “One.”
With each slap you grew more conscious of the silence aside from your breathing and the sounds of the spanks. Jin didn’t say anything. As if he wasn’t even there. As you let yourself sink into the repetition, the burn, and the pleasure his absence was striking. He was never one to speak much, but he always let his presence known. This was punishment greater than ever.
By the tenth slap you were sobbing. Not from the pain. But from the culminating feelings. You couldn’t let yourself go like this. Stress coiled up in you as he refused to be more present. 
Another slap. “12”
You could feel yourself on the verge of panic. You couldn’t take this like this. As if it was someone else. If this went on you would lose yourself in a drop. But you were aware enough still.
“Yellow,” you cried enough. In the next second everything stopped and Jin sat on the bed in line of sight. Yellow: pause and discuss. He reached his hand towards you, not touching you yet. The ball was in your court now.
You grabbed his hand, letting him pull you onto his lap. You felt his straining erection but knew he wouldn’t do anything until you gave him consent for anything more than cuddling. He gently stroked your hair and back with one hand while the other rested on your hip. He waited until your breathing returned to normal before asking anything. 
“What went wrong?” Never one to mince his words. It was reassuring in itself. He didn’t sound angry. Not even a slight irritation in his words remained from the start of their evening.
“I… You weren’t there,” it was hard to put into words, the absence of him. You tried again, “You weren’t talking. I couldn’t see you. As if it could have been anyone else,” your eyebrows furrowed, you were still frustrated with not being able to convey it perfectly. His petting soothed you when he hummed in acknowledgement.
“Let’s change it up then princess, hmm?” He maneuvered you onto the bed completely, lying down with you. 
“How about I edge you three times for the remaining punishment and then fuck you till you beg me to stop?”
You felt blood rush two-ways in your body. Up to your cheeks at the idea, and southwards to reignite the sundering fire. You nodded your head silently.
“I need words baby.”
“Yes, sounds good. But, can you kiss me first?” You felt undeniably shy, hell he just spanked you, you were in the middle of talking about him driving you close to insanity with his magical hands and tongue and glorious dick. And here you are, shy about asking him for an innocent kiss.
“Good girl,” he praised you as he closed the gap between your lips. You let yourself melt into the kiss and enjoy the fluttering you felt at his praise. He knew he could make you putty in his hands with just a few praises. And he was right, you were so weak for them when they came out of his mouth.
The mouth that started to wander downwards, peppering kisses onto your neck while his hands unceremoniously ripped your dress from your body.
“HEY! I liked that dress,” you complained playfully.
“No, you didn’t. I’ll buy you better ones,” he answered nonchalantly before biting one of your nipples, making you yelp back the retort that you would have made just to be difficult. He smirked up at you, looking halfway to ridiculous with your nipple still in his mouth. His hand found your other breast and started playing with it just the way you liked it.
He alternated between gentle fondling and tweaking your nipple while he worked the other with his skillful mouth and tongue. You let out your voice to encourage his ministrations, knowing no one would hear you outside the room. One of your hands buried itself into his silky locks, pulling him as close as possible.
As his mouth traveled down, your flush reached towards him as well, not just your cheeks, down until your chest you had flushed due to his attention. When he reached his goal you twisted your free hand into the sheets. Oh how he knew just what to do to make you lose your mind.
He pulled down your panties, as if they had personally offended him. Immediately after he moved your leg to have more space. As he licked you in a long stripe you whined. This much stimuli, while feeling good, was nowhere near enough while in his bed. He chuckled at you, then flicked your clit before sucking on it. He alternated between fucking you on his tongue and playing with your clit until you were nearly sobbing with pleasure. But you knew it will get so much better and worse.
Just as you were close to reaching your peak. As your breathing became incredibly fast and moans left your mouth unrestrained.
“Jin… I’m close.”
You warned. And all touch ceased. You were left on the verge. Flexing your thighs to feel a little bit of relief, unsuccessfully. 
“One down. 2 more to go dear. Colour?” He caressed your cheek to get your attention.
“Green.” You smiled up at him. Even while being punished, like this you could never forget the love you hold for this man. And he never let you forget that he loves you too, you could always feel it in his gentle caresses like now, that let you calm down before he once again put an onslaught of pleasure onto you.
He pecked your lips as his fingers moved downwards. His mouth once again found your nipple while his fingers caressed you at first. His thumb circled your clit before one elegant, long finger got inserted into you. He pumped it experimentally a few times before adding another.
“So good for me,” he praised you while picking up the pace of his fingers. He crooked them just enough to hit your G spot in every inward thrust. When he also resumed playing with your clit, you knew this would not take long to get on the edge again. And you were right, just a few minutes later, or were they seconds, you grabbed his head to pull him up towards you. Just by a glance at you, he knew you were close again.
He once again stopped playing with you, but his fingers remained inside you, keeping you open. You whined and tried to move your hips to gain even the slightest friction that might send you over the edge. His other hand pinned you down, and you whined in frustration.
“You are doing great. One more and I will gladly fuck you until you come again and again,” he rasped into your ear, thrusting his clothed cock against your thighs once to let you know how much he wants you. He knew what his words can do to you. Even the slightest praise could make you hot and bothered for him.
And thus, once again, the second you calmed down a little, his fingers started moving in you again. His tongue started playing with your clit, intent on driving you as fast to your peak as possible,  just to stop before it once again. Thankfully, it was the last one. As you stopped before your peak again, you thought you were close to losing your sanity. You might have just pounced on Jin and rode him till he couldn’t cum more. Maybe tie his hands up too, while you were at it. Maybe another time, you thought as he stripped. As he positioned himself above you, you caressed him, showing your appreciation, your love. He kissed your palm as he slowly entered you, making sure not to overwhelm you at first.
When he sheathed himself fully into you he still waited for you to nudge him. He knew well he wasn’t one of the smallest guys, and that was also true to his nether regions. While you would sometimes enjoy the slight pain, today he instinctively knew it wasn’t one of those nights. Not after the misery he caused you accidentally.
When you had enough of waiting, you lifted your hips to thrust back into him. He immediately started thrusting into you slowly. So slowly it could have been described as torture. You whined at him and let your nails leave marks of your annoyance on his back.
“Want more?” He thrusted in with a bit more power.
“Please.”
“With pleasure,” he whispered to you as he picked up the pace.
You loved him like this, when he was close to losing his composure to pleasure, as he was thrusting into you, pulling you both under a wave of indescribable feeling. Verging on the line of love and pleasure. As he found your sweet spot again and pulled you closer and closer to the edge. When he reached down and started playing with your clit again, you gasped even louder than so far.
“Jin… I’m close… Can I?” You asked in between gasps. 
“Yeah, cum for me.” He deliberately aimed at your weak spots, urging you to fall over the edge.
With one last twist of his hips and a stronger stimulus to your clit your back arched as the orgasm rushed through you. Your cunt spasmed around him as he thrusted into you faster, fucking you through your orgasm.
“That’s my good girl.” You looked up at him, slightly oversensitive. He was close, you knew from the furrow of his brows as he tried to hold out a little more. You whined at his praise. You pulled him impossibly closer with your legs. Pulling him down in a kiss in the meanwhile.
“Cum in me, please,” you whispered into the kiss. Loud enough for him to hear over your mingled breaths.
“Fuck, you are gonna be the death of me baby,” he grunted as he pistoned into you, chasing his orgasm in your sensitive body. Pulling you close by your hips as he thrust one last time and let himself go in you. He was a sight in his orgasm. As his lips gaped just a tiny bit in a soft moan, as his eyes closed in pleasure. You were sure you could find no one who was more beautiful in this moment, not like you would go and search for someone else, when you were in his bed. You weren’t completely stupid.
When he came down his high he pulled out of you, making you groan softly from his absence. He kissed you before starting to get up.
“Good girl. Wait for me. I’m bringing a towel.” You nuzzled into his hand that caressed you, like a satisfied cat.
He came back promptly, with a damp towel in one of his hands, and a bottle of water in the other. He gently toweled you down before doing the same to himself. Then he gathered you in his arms, making you slowly gulp down mouthfuls of water. When you moved your head away from the bottle, nuzzling into his chest, he drank the remaining water before laying down and cuddling with you. Gently caressing you, he murmured praises to you.
“You did so great today. My good girl.” He kissed your forehead, your cheek, your lips with each praise. You sighed, content after the evening. Humming, you lifted your head to bring him into a kiss. A different one from the ones before, not passionate now, but loving and sleepy. The one people share just out of love, to express their feelings.
As you got comfortable against him, sleepiness came fast. Your eyelids became heavier with each passing second. Content, satisfied, happy, you let yourself murmur against his skin. 
“I love you Jin.”
“I love you too,” he murmured back, kissing your lips one last time. “Go to sleep.” He pulled you even closer, acting as your heater in the admittedly cold temperature of his dorm under the blankets.
That’s how you fell asleep that day. Held in his arms, warm, and loved.
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terrainofheartfelt · 1 year
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The thought of a fried chicken sandwich truly the only thing getting me through this day
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I am super curious what would you have for de au canon once/if you come up with what you want for it. No pressure tho, it is your fun au.
Idk. I thought Wade and NWB could be a thing in which case it was probably something that NS was initially okay about but then it really drove him up the wall. He probably wanted to tell NWB but also couldn't bring himself to think about Wade or consider even a possibility of meeting him again. Or alternatively he didn't know, he just knew Wade was dating someone. And was completely blown up when he found out during current timeline.
The question is Wade's parents and how did they react to NWB. Harry ends up in police since it was upward mobility for him and Dora and them encouraged him towards this. I am not sure it would be a same situation here since, idk, I think they would hate NWB since let go.
like i said before wade and nwb arent a thing in the disco elysium au because that’s just not what their dynamic is supposed to be. yes i’m well aware that harry/dora is a romantic relationship but i’m not going to make this au 100% accurate to the game, like i’ve already changed the kim & harry dynamic for ns & nwb (because in the game kim & harry are cool with eachother, meanwhile ns & nwb aren’t) so i’m also changing the whole thing about dora into something less romantic but just as mentally ill if not more👍
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zentraex · 6 months
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Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.
Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.
Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader
(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.
Art by @asteriscks on TikTok
This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.
Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.
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It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman. 
You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday. 
Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake. 
_
It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account. 
Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?
Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.
"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.
"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains. 
What?
"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."
"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"
"No..."
You already knew what that meant: double payment.
"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."
You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.
 "No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."
Your eyes widened. 
Now?
"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"
"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."
Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him. 
"The keys?" 
With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.
What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?  
You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.
Thank God, I didn't hit him. 
"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."
What!?
How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes. 
"You’re telling me this now!?"
"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know." 
That filthy bastard.
No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.  
What were you going to do now? 
Shit.
"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.
Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.
Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.
"But maybe we can agree on something.
Then you stopped. 
"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."
Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer! 
"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"
"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”
_
Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks. 
Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.
But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.
_
"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."
After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.
I'm going to die today!
After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.
“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."
Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall. 
Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01
Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04
Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02
Steven Rudboys F03 – 03 
Mia Stone F03 – 01
Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04
Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors. 
"I wish you good luck."
C’mon Reader, be like Henry…
But better.
The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.
"Good evening."
Was she real? Was she a doppelganger? 
With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?
Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance: 
Long hair
Small round nose
She has freckles
...
...
...
Freckles?
Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window. 
You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.
No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles. 
"You look different...", you murmur after a while.
"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."
Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles. 
Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.? 
You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye. 
Shit. 
She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.
Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down. 
"3312," you murmur to yourself.
"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."
Cleaning protocol? 
What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they? 
What if they will?
What if your judgment was wrong?
What if...
Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.
"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."
It took a while until someone finally came again. 
This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear. 
Milkman...
You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. 
You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away. 
"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."
"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."
Long nose
Thin chin
Tired eyes
Short hair
Wears a hat
It all fit. The only thing left now was a call. 
Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."
"Yes, today is my first day."
"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."
Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.
"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."
Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.
"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."
You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.
What milk do you mean exactly?
My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?
"I'd be delighted, Francis."
You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone. 
"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"
And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name. 
You pressed the green button.
_
"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear. 
It was your third day, your third time to change shift.
Well, it usually would have been.
Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.
He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.
You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.  
"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"
He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him. 
"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"
The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.
Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....
Oh?
He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning. 
Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you. 
Were you so shameful?
"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore.  I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."
You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him. 
His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”
If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?
Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.
_
"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day. 
Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.
"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."
Well, he had a point, huh?
No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that. 
You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.
"Have you killed more people?"
"Just more doppelgangers you let through."
Your eyes widened. 
You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.
"How many have I let through?"
Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"
You just nod, smiling.
"Are you going to kill others...?
You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special. 
"Would you kill for me?"
"Hooooonn"
When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black. 
You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.
_
Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes. 
But honestly? 
You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.
When you look up, he waves, the milkman. 
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mywritersmind · 22 days
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OBVIOUSLY OBLIVIOUS - LN4
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summary : she thought the hoodie was her brothers, she should have known since the comfort was too good.
listen up : hating on landos style. fewtrell!sister. messages!!
word count : 729
⋆。‧˚⋆
I’m practically imprinted into the couch, flipping another page of my book and yawning. I’m at my brother's house for the weekend but after a night of streaming, he’s probably passed out in his room.
It’s early but I still have my makeup on from the night before. I went clubbing with my friends and was desperately craving a good book in my pajamas with a side of ice cream.
I sit comfortably with Billie Eilish playing on low and my brother's hoodie on me. It’s an extremely good find, soft and cute which is rare for Max. It’s got a red heart on the back with black letters that say ‘MAISON DE MONACO’ No clue what that is but it’s fancy.
I jump when I hear my brother's door creek open, “Jesus, you scared me.” I shake my head and look back down at my book.
The voice who answers isn’t my brother, “Sorry, forgot Max’s house is a billion years old.” Yet the familiarity washes over me.
“I forgot you were here.” I look over to Lando who’s filling up his water in the kitchen. It had completely slipped my mind that Lando was staying here for the night.
“Wow, thanks.” He turns around, drinking his water while looking at me funny.
“You alright?” I ask the boy as nods slowly.
“I like your hoodie.” He says, nodding down to the gray fabric.
“Thanks, It’s Max’s.” I shrug and look back to my book, “Quite nice. Didn't know my brother had such good taste.”
Lando laughs a bit, “Maybe my style is rubbing off on him.” I roll my eyes as he watches me closely.
I don’t mean to laugh as hard as I do, “Keep telling yourself that, love.” I shake my head as his eyes narrow.
“What, you don’t like my style?” I close my book and sigh.
“It’s just… very driver-like.” I say as he frowns, his eyebrows furrowing.
“You don’t like any driver's style?” He takes a seat at the end of the couch.
“No! I love Lewis’ and Zhou’s! You just… don’t have that. Max is probably being influenced by Pietra.” I lean my head back on the cushions, my body facing his.
“Maybe I need a girlfriend then.” He says easily, tilting his head against the pillow and looking at me with eyes that I could lose myself in.
I shake off the feeling, opening my book back up, “Would probably help.” He side eyes me.
We stay silent then, I fall back into my story as he scrolls on his phone. Still, Lando can’t be focused on anything for too long (odd considering the whole two hour non stop driving thing) so he bugs me two minutes after we stopped speaking.
He’s staring at me. I can feel the gaze of his blue eyes while I'm reading. I glance up to meet his eyes, “Is there something on my face?”
His smile sneaks back onto his face, “No. You just…” He licks his lips and shakes his head, “Sorry. I gotta go- Have a good day, Y/N.”
“Bye…?” he’s out the door before I even finish the word. I just shrug and try to ignore the tingles in my fingertips.
An hour passes and my brother's door opens for the second time this morning, letting out a loud and long groan. “Good Morning to you too.” I laugh as Max falls onto the couch, his face in the pillows. “Hey, I’m stopping by the store so text me what crisps yo-”
His head pops up and interrupts me, “What are you wearing?” He makes a face which immediately concerns me.
“What?”
“Your hoodie. I know it’s not yours because it’s like Fifty Five Thousand pounds.” My jaw drops.
I slam my book shut, “This isn’t yours?”
“Christ, Y/N how much money do you think I make? What’d you do, rob the store?” He’s being serious and I feel ill.
“Max. I found this in your room.” His confusion turns into humor when the realization hits and he breaks into laughter.
“You’re-”
I don’t want him to say it, “No.”
He seals my fate while laughing, “You're wearing Landos hoodie.” He says befitting shoving his face back into a pillow, muffling his giggle.
I roll my eyes, “You child!” I throw a pillow at him and grab my phone.
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1K notes · View notes
theemporium · 7 months
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[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)
series masterlist
.
Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious. 
In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.
Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days  after the party, with a message from you on his screen. 
cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?
cherry🍒: also my place or yours? 
He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality. 
hockey boy: i cannot promise anything 
hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…
hockey boy: he’s nosy 
hockey boy: and annoying 
Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.
cherry🍒: my place it is then
cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)
He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.
Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance). 
However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yes, Jack.”
“You’re not sick or anything?”
“I’m literally fine.” 
“Because we can tell the trainers—”
“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.” 
“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”
But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.
Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?” 
Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”
“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?” 
Jack snorted in response. 
Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted. 
He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves. 
But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day. 
It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.
Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it. 
However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out. 
But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.
Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts. 
“Where the fuck are you going?” 
Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.
“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.
Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”
“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.
Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?” 
“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”
Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.” 
Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.” 
He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”
“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.
“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again. 
“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice. 
“Not sure.” 
“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?” 
“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”
Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”
His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”
“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him. 
“Do I need to give you a curfew?” 
“Fuck off!” 
He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.
His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with. 
It was fine. 
Everything was fine.
Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode. 
He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.
“You’re early,” you noted. 
Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”
“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. 
His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it. 
But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.
“You still like Coke, right?” 
His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.” 
He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you. 
“Your place is really nice—”
“Tell me about hockey.” 
Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.
“What?”
“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated. 
“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion. 
“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.” 
Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.” 
“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze. 
He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”
You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”
He blinked. “There is?”
“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?” 
Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”
“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.” 
Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born. 
“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” 
“Do you enjoy it?” 
Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”
“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.
“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.” 
“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words. 
Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”
“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?” 
He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.” 
“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused. 
And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again. 
“You watched some videos before I came?”
“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.
He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?” 
Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?” 
In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.
“Oh?”
“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.” 
“My training?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.” 
His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
He blinked. “You’re asking me?” 
“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.” 
“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips. 
“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer. 
“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.
Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.
You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you. 
And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss. 
Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow. 
“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again. 
“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?” 
Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.” 
“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.
Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.” 
“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”
“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod. 
“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.
He swallowed. “Oh.” 
You raised your brows. “This good?” 
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?” 
“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.” 
And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. 
His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.
And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you. 
Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire. 
“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”
He nodded.
“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”
His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”
“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.” 
The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red. 
“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”
And it was too much. 
The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white. 
His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it. 
And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants. 
“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—” 
“For what?” 
“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.” 
You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?” 
His stomach twisted a little.
“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.” 
He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…” 
“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”
His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.” 
You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”
Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.
“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”
He raised his brows. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.” 
And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response. 
And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food. 
It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy. 
It made his head spin, in a good way. 
And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you. 
You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend. 
But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised. 
You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend. 
Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?
.
1K notes · View notes
cressidagrey · 3 months
Text
Lightning in a Bottle - Prologue
Summary: 
Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.
Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.
Warnings: 
Kinda Elain Bashing?, Low Self Esteem, Mention of Cauldron induced torture...
(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)
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As far as cauldron-made went…Eira Archeron was pretty much useless. 
She had neither the power of Death nor of Divinity. 
She was neither the prettiest one, that title belonged to Elain…nor the smartest one, which was undoubtedly Nesta. Or the strongest one like Feyre…And if she had tried to hunt like Feyre, it would have been more likely that she would have accidentally killed herself instead of bringing home any meat. 
As a human, she had been limited to cooking and cleaning and laundry, all of it with limited supplies and even more limited experience. She had tried. It had never been enough. 
So maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her that her uselessness continued on even when she was no longer human.
So if she wasn’t beautiful or strong or smart…what was she then? 
The dumb one? 
When the cauldron had burned every bit of humanity out of her…when it had ripped away all her hopes and dreams…when it had been so angry with Nesta after whatever she had done to it that Eira was just…Eira was just an afterthought, something it could hurt in response to her sisters and then leave gasping on that stone floor feeling like she was dying…
She had done her best to accept her lack of humanity afterwards. Nesta had raged…Elain had said nothing, suffering silently in the bed…and Eira…Eira had tried. 
Tried to make it better…tried to make it easier for everybody around her. She had tried. 
She hadn’t wanted to put even more on Feyre’s shoulders, not with the threat of impending war…and so she had done her best to be supportive and make no trouble…be agreeable and quiet and be helpful…
But she couldn’t be helpful. 
She was nothing but a useless appendage. With no powers, no great destiny stretched in front of her…
Not even a limb. Not even a fucking pinky finger. 
More like a skin tag. 
Completely useless. If cut off, it wouldn’t even bother anybody. 
They had made that clear to her over time. 
They had made clear what they thought about her, again and again, and now…now she finally realised it. She was a slow learner…but by the gods, she did learn. 
It started…slow in a sense. Comments, made offhandedly, that probably weren’t meant that way anyway…sometimes said to her face…sometimes overheard. 
“Stop your screeching, girl, I am getting a headache.” Amren. After she had finally…after months felt like singing again as she fixed the hem on one of her sister’s dresses. She had stopped singing then.
Amren had never brought it up again. But then Amren had never been particularly nice to any of them.      
“Don’t come crying to me if she bites off your head. I warned you.” Rhysand had told her drily when she insisted on visiting Nesta at the House of Wind every week after all of that had gone down… 
“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like make another ugly dress?” Seethingly said by Nesta…pitted against the one thing she liked to pretend she was good at…the one thing she could do and make money with…
It cut. Of course, it did. But it wasn’t even the worst thing thrown at her head by Nesta…so why was it the one thing that stayed in her mind? 
“We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.” Cassian…overheard by Eira before the rest of them had gone off to Hewn City. Eira left behind because…well the contrast of Elain badly dressed was enough, no need for Eira to…be what? A distraction?  
And it was true too. Elain was the prettier twin sister. 
Eira was just…common as muck as her mother had liked to remind her…Nesta was the smart one, the one who would marry a prince…Elain would marry for love and beauty…and Eira…well, she would make a good farmer’s wife as far as her mother was concerned.
Not pretty enough to garner a richer man’s attention…not smart enough to drag herself up the echelons of society on her own…To easily content as far as her mother was concerned. 
“As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.” Morrigan. Said in jest. Eira was quite sure of that…still, it had hurt. Because it was true. She was useless. 
No magic sparking at her fingertips…Using her magic was like pulling teeth…painful and a long process…And it never did what she wanted anyway. 
“Eira, find somewhere else to be. I really have more important things to do,” Feyre had said with a sigh…after she had brought her sister cookies and tea…after she had only tried to get Feyre to take a break from her work. 
Eira hadn’t tried that again either. 
And then the one that clinched it: 
“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”
Said by Elain…by her twin sister. She was frozen in place, staring at Elain wide-eyed as her sister sneered at her. 
 That was the last drop into an already overflowing bucket. 
Stress. Right? Just stress from wedding planning. Elain would have never said that usually. 
She wouldn’t have…
It was just…it was just stress…Just stress. 
Elain didn’t mean it like that. 
Right?
Elain flounced off…her wedding binder in tow…leaving Eira alone, sitting there, in the dining room, her chest aching. 
Eira was in a trance as she carefully put all the plates into one tidy stack…as she was thankful that it had just been her and Elain, every other person in their family busy with their mates or something else…Feyre and Rhysand gone with Baby Nyx for the evening…Nesta and Cassian off at the House of Wind…who knew what Mor and Amren were up to…
Or even Azriel. 
A sob threatened to take over, as she thought that name. 
She walked up the stairs…to her room…Her room. She locked the door with shaky hands. 
“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”
She collapsed on her bed, burying her face into her pillow and let the tears stream. 
Ridiculous puppy crush. 
All of that said because she had tried to talk to Elain about her choice of flowers for her wedding. Because lilies wouldn’t be in season when she married Lucien in Day Court in less than 2 months. 
And then Elain responded with that, because Eira clearly wanted to ruin her wedding with that factoid. 
“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”
The worst part of it was that it was the simple truth. 
Azriel was never going to pay her a second glance. 
He had always been more interested in Elain than Eira…he had on more than one occasion asked Eira questions about her twin sister…had made sure that Elain was comfortable and cared for…and Eira had sufficed as a source of information and nothing else. 
And after Elain and Lucien had become serious…well, Eira ceased to be interesting too. He hadn’t sought her out again. 
If she sat next to him at dinner, he was polite and quiet, bordering on silent. And then she tried to fill the silence and probably only annoyed him in the process. 
He didn’t want her. He never would. 
She starved down the sobs that wracked her body. 
It was probably high time that she accepted that, right?
High time to get over herself. 
High time that she reminded herself that…that she was never going to have him and that staring at him in ill-hidden affection only made everybody else make fun of her and probably made him deeply uncomfortable. 
So maybe it was better that she just…
At least he had never called her useless, she supposed. It could be worse…even when he never would want her. 
She felt the touch on her hand first…soft like velvet…like kitten fur…never warm, never cold. massive and somehow not… definitely not human. 
The shadows. His shadows. 
Sometimes they came to keep her company. At the start, she had thought that maybe he had sent them but nowadays she was quite sure that they had just liked her quiet singing while embroidery one afternoon. So quiet that nobody would hear.  It had taken her months to coax them out of their corners after that. They probably had just taken pity on her. 
Just like they did now. 
“Please don’t,” she choked out. She never wanted him to find out how she was feeling about him…never wanted to feel the pain of him outright turning her down. 
 And if his shadows came to check on her, they would report back in what they saw…and they didn’t need…didn’t need to worry about it. 
They never talked to her. Just sometimes they came and listened to her softly talk to them while she was sewing in the evening, about this and that...
It wasn’t right how she talked to you, the shadows whispered. 
They didn’t talk to her. Never. 
And now they did. 
Hell, even his shadows were feeling sorry for her, weren’t they? 
“Please don’t tell him,” she begged. 
He should know, they disagreed softly. Everybody should know. She should apologise to you. 
And what would that give her? Nothing. More embarrassment because everybody else got to hear all about her fledgling little feelings? Feelings she should bury deep and never examine again? 
“Please,” she begged again and the shadows seemingly surrendered, curling themselves up against her hands so that she could touch them. 
Don’t cry, they soothed her softly. Don’t give her that. 
Elain hadn’t said anything that was untrue. That was the worst part. It was true. And that hurt. 
Is there anything we could do? the shadows asked Eira softly. Anything at all to make this better? 
“No,” she whispered, choking out the words, another sob. Not anymore. There was nothing anybody could do. 
It hurt. It hurt so badly.  Just like the cauldron had.  Then she had wished she would die. 
Now…now she wondered the same once again. Maybe then it would stop feeling like this. 
She cried her eyes out, as the tears kept pouring over her cheeks…as she sobbed until her throat was raw and everything hurt. And finally, she just laid there…the shadows still swirling worriedly around her prone form. 
“Don’t you need to work?” she asked the shadows listlessly, tears tracking over her cheeks. “Don’t you have something more important to do than to try and comfort me?” 
Maybe take care of him?
You are important, the shadows snapped. 
Eira could argue that point. She was useless. So what did it matter? It didn’t. 
She wiped away the tears, but new ones just came pouring over her face and she stopped trying, let them run down her face and wondered how long she could stay in her room and never come out again. 
Would you like something to eat? the shadows tried again. So sweet. Trying to give her something, anything to comfort her. 
“No, thank you,” she whispered. Alone the thought made her want to throw up. 
She didn’t want to eat. 
She didn’t want to get up and talk to anybody. She didn’t want to even look at another person anymore. 
She didn’t…
What would you like then? The shadows tried softly. Would you like to plot revenge? they suggested. 
It was so stupid that she choked out a laugh. 
“For what? Elain saying what everybody else is thinking?” Eira asked, her heart painfully restricting. 
Nobody here actually wanted her around. If she disappeared forever she would do them a favour. Him especially. 
Elain had only said what everybody else was thinking. 
All three of her sisters had found their mates, just not Eira. All three of her sisters had some kind of power…just not her. All three of them had found some kind of place for themselves…and then there was her, living with her youngest sister, half seamstress, half nanny for her child, an unwanted appendage that was taken care of out of some feeling of duty and no other reason.
Elain had just voiced what she was thinking. The truth. 
It had been the truth. Plain and simple. And Eira maybe didn’t like to hear it but it didn’t…it didn’t matter. 
It was the truth. 
Elain had two men willing to marry her and spend the rest of their lives with her…and nobody wanted to spend any time with Eira. A husband wasn’t even something that had ever seemed to be a possibility. 
Even if everybody else is thinking, that doesn’t make it right. The shadows disagreed quietly. Your sister said that to hurt you and not for any other reason. 
“She’s stressed out with wedding planning,” Eira whispered. 
It had just been that. Probably. Maybe. 
That doesn’t make it right, the shadows disagreed again, twirling tighter around her wrist. We could ruin her wedding. Lilies and all, they suggested brightly. 
She shook her head. No. Elain should have the wedding she dreamed of. Eira wasn’t going to ruin it for her. 
“Don’t do that,” she said weakly.
We could at least steal her wedding binder, they told her mulishly, and Eira wondered if they disagreed like that with Azriel too.
Azriel…
What did it say about her that she fell head over heels in love with the first man who treated her with polite indifference? That she was so desperate to be loved that that was all it took? 
Did it matter? 
No. 
Elaine was right. He would never spare her a second glance. He was just as unreachable as any other male.
Nothing was enticing about Eira.  Neither her body, nor her mind, nor her magical power. What could she possibly offerany male? 
All the nightmares she had on a near-daily basis? All the fear and anxiety that swirling around her gut every day? 
She could sew on any buttons he lost along the way, she supposed. That was something.
The knife that plunged into her womb and twisted, took her by surprise. 
It shouldn’t have.  
Of course. 6 months had passed once again. 
“Don’t tell him this either,” she begged in a whimper. This was too embarrassing. He didn’t need to know about her cycle. 
Nobody did. She was the most modest out of all her sisters. The one with the most human ideas of what was considered to be decent, left…the only one who…
The only one left with her maidenhead intact, because everybody else was mated or married or very much in love and it had never mattered in Prythian anyway. 
Just Eira was left. 
Without a mate. Without a husband. 
Without ever having even been kissed. Nearly 26 and that…hadn’t happened for her. 
It probably would never happen anyway. 
Why today of all days? 
Why did her cycle need to torture her today?  How did she deserve this? Why not in a week…Though at least now she had a reason not to leave her bed for a few days.  
She could just stay here. 
Mope in her own Misery and self-pity…wallow in the pain that she knew would come…
Of course, it would. She had always had a horrible time during her cycle even as a human…as a Fae, it had become her very own personal torture. 
Maybe a bath would make you feel better, the shadows suggested softly as she already curled herself together in pain. 
She needed to get up and sort herself out before it got even worse…made sure that she wouldn’t get blood all over the sheets, but she couldn’t…She didn’t want to. 
And a bath…A stab of pure fear.  
“It’s like the cauldron,” Eira whimpered. Just like the cauldron. 
She didn’t bathe…she used buckets of water…even years later…still standing water was not something she could stand. Not without being reminded of her humanity being ripped away and traded for whatever this existence was. 
What if we make sure that it isn’t? the shadows asked her softly. It will be nothing like the cauldron, we promise. 
A bath…a hot bath that would help against the soreness of her muscles…that would maybe ease the cramps…
It did sound nice. So nice. 
So Eira just weakly nodded. 
That seemed to be all the agreement the shadows needed as they whisked her to the bathing chamber, in the blink of an eye.
She watched as they flitted about the room, turning on the water, dotting candles around the room, making it brightly lit with faelight and candlelight both. 
Lots of foam and bubbles appeared in the bathtub as well as numerous concoctions being poured into the water. 
She slowly toed off her shoes and opened the laces of her dress. Eira hesitated and the shadows disappeared, letting her undress in privacy…letting her walk to the bathtub and test the temperature…stare at it for a moment. 
It couldn’t look less like the cauldron if it tried. 
She waited for a stab of fear but nothing came. 
So she slid into it, let the warm water envelope her, the perfect temperature… A few tendrils of shadows came to keep her company, touching her chin so that she tipped her head back and they started to wash her hair for her. 
Eira couldn’t even remember the last time anybody had done that for her. 
And they did that…without even asking…just…just for her. 
“Thank you,” Eira whispered, not daring to close her eyes, but staring at the ceiling. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?” she asked weakly. “Isn’t your master going to be angry at you?” She didn’t want them to get into any trouble, just because they…they were taking care of her. 
You don’t want Master to find out, so he won’t, they said easily. Would you like some pain potions? 
If they gave them to her, she wouldn’t need to walk downstairs and maybe face her sister or gods forbid, Rhysand…and ask them for Madja. 
Nobody would need to know. She could have her privacy and her dignity left intact. 
“Yes, please,“ she breathed in relief as the shadows poured something or other over her head. One shadow brought her a vial, wrapping around her wrist as she uncorked and downed it. 
A bitter taste but it left her blissedly numb and tired nearly immediately.
“What’s that?” She mumbled as they hushed her, massaging her head.
It tasted differently than whatever Madja usually gave her…telling her that pain and discomfort were normal and that her potions would ease it…It was like pouring a bucket of water over an inferno. 
While this…this was quenching everything. Leaving her numb. 
Just a rather strong pain potion, the shadows promised her. You’ll sleep for a bit…We’ll talk more then.
Sleep… Sleep sounded nice…
She didn’t even think about feeling self-conscious when they pulled her from the water, rinsed her off and wrapped her in warm, fluffy towels. 
They laid out her favourite nightgown so she only needed to pull it on and pull back the sheets of her bed so she could slide beneath it. 
Even a hot water bottle was waiting for her…
Everything so that she would be as comfortable as possible… everything for her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tears pricking in her eyes as she climbed between her blankets, the shadows fluffing her pillow and pulling the blankets as high as they went. 
It was weird…to have the shadows doting on her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Eira was too selfish to protest this bit of attention…the only positive attention she had in years. 
They promised not to tell, so she wouldn’t either. Not when this was the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for her. 
She fell asleep between one breath and the next, safely and warmly ensconced in her bed. Deep dreamless sleep…When she woke, it must have been the middle of the night…and still, the shadows were there immediately. 
She whimpered at the cramps that were ransacking her body…and the growling of her stomach in hunger. 
She hated these cycles. Hated how weak they left her and how she wanted nothing more than to cease to exist. 
Are you hungry? You’ll need to eat before you can take another pain potion, the shadows told her worriedly. Not a lot, just a little bit, they promised. 
“I don’t want to go down into the kitchen,” she answered weakly, biting her lip. Not that she thought that she could safely traverse the staircase anyway. 
Eira just wanted to stay here…alone. Maybe with the shadows for company, as long as they wanted her…
We’ll get you something. What would you like? They assured her immediately. 
Everything in her body ached for something human, even when she knew that their food would taste like ash for her. She always wanted human things. The things she would never have again.  
“Maybe some soup?” Eira asked finally. “If that’s not too much trouble?” 
Of course not. 
They fluffed her pillows and helped her sit up…and then soup appeared…a bowl filled with clear broth with bits of vegetables and chunks of chicken and noodles…cooked to perfection…better than anything she could have ever produced and by the gods, she had tried…All of it, arranged on a tray, with two slices of perfect crusty bread and another pain potion. 
She took that first, and it made her pleasantly numb and tired…and so she weakly spooned as much soup as she could in her mouth afterwards… mopping up the last of her soup with the bread. 
She finished as much as she could before she was too tired and the shadows tucked her back into bed, curled up on her side…so they could fuss with her hair which was a mess as always. 
She felt like a child being fawned over and she couldn’t help but relax into it…let them do with her whatever they wished if they just kept being so…nice to her. 
Feeling better? they asked softly and she hummed. 
If you could be anything…do anything... what would it be? The shadows wondered quietly. The movements of them were lulling her to some space of safety and warmth and Eira considered the question. 
If she could have anything in the world…what would she want?
A heady question. 
“When I was…young,” she said softly… “I wanted a dashing knight to come rescue me, and whisk me away from that horrible cottage,” she said weakly. “That’s what I wanted since I was old enough to want anything.”
A stupid children’s dream. 
But sadly there were no knights in Prythian and even if there were any, they wouldn’t pick Eira. 
And now? The shadows pushed. 
“Somebody that loves me,”  she admitted quietly. “A husband…children.”
All of that…she wanted all of that. 
And she was never going to have it. 
We could find you a husband, the shadows finally said quietly. If that makes you happy…we could help you.
“Who could possibly want me?” Eira asked, her voice breaking. Who would want her? The answer was easy: Nobody. 
Only because Master is an idiot, doesn’t mean every male is, they told her tartly. 
She wanted to laugh but it ended in a sob. 
“He isn’t an idiot,” Eira disagreed. “He just knows that…I am not good enough for him.”
Not pretty enough, not smart enough…not enough period.
That’s ridiculous, the shadows hissed. 
It wasn’t. 
“He’s in love with my prettier twin sister,” Eira snapped. “I shouldn’t want him anyway. Why should I want to be his second or even third choice?  Maybe for once, I want to be somebody’s first choice! Maybe for once, I want to be treated like I matter! That my feelings matter…that I matter!” It burst out of her. The tears burned in her eyes at that admission. At…how unfair it was. 
What had she done to deserve this? What had she done? 
Eira immediately regretted that outburst though. “I am so sorry,” she blurted out.
They didn’t deserve to be pulled into her feeling unfairly treated. She should stop complaining. It wasn’t going to…
For what? the shadows snorted. You are absolutely right. You deserve to be somebody’s first choice. You deserve to be treated like you matter. 
She didn’t. 
Maybe you should go shopping, the shadows suggested with a sigh. The suggestion was so sudden that she stared at the tendril of shadow still wrapped around her wrist. 
“Why?” she asked with a sigh. 
The Morrigan does that if she feels bad. The shadows told her earnestly. Then she buys shoes and feels better. 
Ah. 
She highly doubted that shoes were going to solve any of her problems. A pretty pair of shoes wasn’t going to make anybody fall in love with her. Or want her. 
“What am I supposed to buy?” She asked quietly. “Just shoes?”
Stuff. The shadows answered easily. Whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy, they assured her. All your sisters have more stuff than you. You make them dresses and other things. But you never make yourself anything, the shadows said quietly. Nobody would say anything if you wanted things that are yours. 
Right. She had never bothered with that. Not after she had lost all her things together with her humanity…there had been some piles of necessities sent to them by Rhysand…and that had been that. 
She had never bothered to get more than that. She still wore those dresses of the very first weeks… and while she had made dresses for all three of her sisters…as human out of necessity, as Fae out of habit…she hadn’t made herself any in years.
Not since becoming Fae. Her new body felt…she hadn’t wanted to look at her new body for long enough to figure out how something should fit onto it. How it had changed….
These godforsaken ears were enough. 
Buy things for yourself. Like a new dress! Or earrings! Diamonds! The shadows suggested. Whatever you find pretty. 
“My ears aren’t pierced,” she said quietly, a yawn taking over her face. 
That brought them up short.
Master bought you pearl earrings, the shadows said suddenly, sounding perplexed. 
He had. Beautiful. Impersonal. Unwearable for her…a far cry from all the little trinkets he had given to Elain…
Still, for months she had stared at them and found them oh so beautiful…safely kept in their box in her drawer at her vanity table. 
Maybe that alone should have told her everything she needed to know about the state of Azriel’s affection for her. 
Namely it was non-existent when the spymaster of the night court didn’t even bother to check if she even wore earrings. 
And the earrings…well…they were only…one thing. Her room at the River Estate that she had been supposed to furnish to her liking…that was another. 
In the end, it had consisted out of her getting a set of the same bedroom furniture as every other guest room and her walls were painted cream like in every other room Feyre hadn’t gotten to yet. It was still as impersonal as it had been when she had moved in. 
She knew that Elain had stuff to litter her bookcases with…gifts from Azriel or Feyre or Lucien, her mate…even Eira had gifted her sister things. 
But all Eira had…were the dresses she had on commission laid out on her desk. Which she would need to return to the shop where she worked as a seamstress at soon enough once she was finished with her alteration on them…and well, that was it. 
No books, because her reading was absolutely atrocious…no little trinkets from any of her sisters…no paintings or art or anything really. 
Just…her sewing and embroidery supplies and that was that…and even these weren’t…held in one of these pretty little wooden sewing boxes on legs that would keep them tidily kept away…
Do you need money? The shadows asked her seriously. 
“What?” Eira asked weakly.
She made some money with her job. Not a lot…but some. All of it carefully stashed away to buy birthday or solstice gifts from…or little trinkets she saw in a shop and thought one of her sisters would like…that Nyx would like. 
Do you need money? They repeated patiently. To buy stuff? For yourself? 
“No, I have money. And I don’t want to owe anybody anything,” she answered quietly, her eyes slowly closing.
 She didn’t want to end like Nesta… were in the end, her habits were used to bludgeon her with…she didn’t…
You wouldn’t. The shadows assured her. We have our own line of credit. 
What? 
“How does that work? Do you have your own bank account?” she asked curiously, and she could nearly feel their amusement. 
We like playing the lottery. Everything we win, we put into Master’s Bank Account, they explained to her earnestly. He never uses it anyway. We could just put our winnings in yours instead. Master wouldn’t care.
It was so ridiculous that she couldn’t help but giggle. 
“Really?” she still asked weakly. 
Really! they assured her seriously. Enough for you to have a shopping spree! We like shiny things, they told her, making her laugh. Master never buys any. We’ll pick up some mail-order catalogues for you and then you can spend tomorrow ordering some things. Maybe some curtains to spruce things up a little. It’s awfully empty in here. 
Still, she couldn’t help but ask. 
“Why are you doing this?” 
Nobody should be treated like you are, they told her fiercely. Nobody should feel like they have no place anywhere.
792 notes · View notes
ventismacchiato · 2 months
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O8 stuck with you — im on top (of you) !
scaramouche x gender neutral reader
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The day you had been dreading was finally upon you.
“Stop looking so sad,” Yoimiya sighs as she looks over to where you were slumped on the floor of the recording studio you guys were in.
“My beautiful voice…mixed in with his,” you shuddered at the mere thought of his vocals sullying the album.
“Quit being so dramatic,” Lumine chastised, reaching over to get you off the floor. 
You look over to where Scara was similarly slumped on the floor, staring into the wall as his group members conversed around him. Looks like he wasn’t too into the idea of recording with you either.
“You guys ready?” Albedo asks, walking in carrying a stack of papers as he walks past you guys to the soundbooth. The young blonde had been one of the company’s producers since you’d debuted. He reminded you a mix between Kazuha and Xiao, quiet but managed to get his artistic vision across.
“You two,” Albedo gestures to you and Scara, “I was instructed to get you both done quickly before working on the group song.”
“Jean really slotted all this time and took into consideration how much Scaramouche and Yn bicker,” Fischl muses.
“What are we singing?” Scaramouche asks, flipping through the page of lyrics Albedo handed you both.
“A love song,” Albedo answers, hooking a pair of headphones onto his head, “Let’s just try it out and see what needs to be added, go on then.”
He gently pushes you into the recording booth as you both tug on your own pair of headphones.
You eye the lyrics as you tug the microphone closer to you, wincing at the implications behind the words.
The first few attempts were disastrous to say the least. Scaramouche kept criticizing your timing and you kept pointing out how he was overpowering the track. Albedo’s patience, which was unbelievably high if he worked with the likes of you, was wearing thin as you both argued over every line.
After a take that finally sounded decent Albedo gestures for you two to come out of the booth.
“Are we finally done?” Scara asks.
“That sounded pretty good to me,” Childe pipes up.
“If you guys had collaborated earlier we would be drowning in so much money right now,” Venti sighs dejectedly. 
“Almost,” Albedo answers, fingers flying over his keyboard, "I just need you both to moan,” Albedo deadpanned.
“What?” Scara slowly says, like he’s on the verge of strangling Albedo by the neck.
“Before you say anything just listen to this clip.”
You couldn’t even process anything before Albedo was hitting play and your gentle voice mixed with Scara’s came out of the speakers, followed by some harmonies by Aether and then Xiao that he’d added in later. It all sounded good as they all harmonized together, but even you could feel that something was missing.
“So, you need us to do what ?”
“Moan, so I can use it as backup vocals,” Albedo hummed, twirling a pen with his fingers, seeming nonchalant about what he was asking of them.
“Fuck no,” Scara says, jutting a finger at you, “Why do I have to moan on the same song as them.”
“I don’t want to either,” you huff as your members erupt into a fit of laughter behind you. The traitors.
“It’s just my suggestion,” Albedo says, putting his hands up, “Just try it out.”
“I don’t get paid enough for this, how am I supposed to moan with Yn next to me?”
“I get dried up just looking at you.”
“The world gets dry from looking at you.”  
“You should have no trouble faking a moan, since it’s probably what everyone you’ve ever slept with has done.”
Albedo snaps his fingers in front of you both.
“I don’t care how you do it, just harmonize a moan or two for me,” Albedo says, pushing you both back into the booth, “I would like to go home early for once.”
“We won’t be able to see you,” Albedo adds, “So feel free to do whatever helps you get out the best moans.”
“Gross,” Scara called out as Albedo shut the door behind him.
“I’m going to kill myself,” you mumble as you tug the microphone towards you once again.
Scara glares at you as you both stand in the booth, the microphone between you two a symbol of your forced cooperation. You can feel the tension radiating off him, and it's not helping your own nerves. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
"Let's just get this over with," you mutter, avoiding Scara's eyes.
"Fine," he snaps, crossing his arms. "But don't think for a second that I'm happy about this."
You roll your eyes. "Yeah, well, neither am I."
There's a long, uncomfortable silence as you both stare at the microphone. Outside the booth, Albedo is watching, his expression expectant. You glance at Scara, trying to gauge his mood. He's scowling, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something like hesitation.
"Look," you say, trying to sound reasonable in an attempt to get this over with. "Let's just do one take and see how it goes. If it sounds terrible, we can convince Albedo to scrap the idea."
Scara raises an eyebrow, but after a moment, he nods. "Fine. One take."
You both lean towards the microphone, your faces inches apart. You can feel Scara's breath on your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You close your eyes, trying to block out the awkwardness, and focus on the task at hand.
Taking a deep breath, you let out a soft, hesitant moan. It feels strange and embarrassing, but you push through, hoping it will be over soon. Beside you, Scara does the same, his moan blending with yours. 
Scaramouche’s moans would usually sound like a sexually-transmitted disease: gross and something that you’d never touch with a fifteen-foot pole, but for a moment, it created an unexpected harmony.
Albedo's voice crackles through the intercom. "That was... actually not bad. Let's try it one more time, but with a bit more feeling. Scara, go a bit lower.”
You both go through the motions again, and you try to ignore how Scara’s moans sound so resonant through your headphones and the heat on your cheeks from making such an intimate sound beside him. 
Albedo’s voice comes through the intercom again. “Perfect. That’s exactly what we needed.”
You sigh with relief, tugging off the headphones as fast as you could and slipping out the booth.
As you and Scara step out of the booth, you're immediately met with the smirking faces of the other members. They're lounging on the studio couch, looking far too amused for your liking.
Childe is the first to speak, a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Well, well, look at you two. Didn't know you two were that freaky."
Lumine snickers, giving you both a mock round of applause. "That was hot. It felt like I was interrupting.”
“I hope you all die,” Scara says from beside you before turning to Albedo, “And you’re a freak for suggesting that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Albedo hums, already tuning them out as he has his headphones back on.
"Alright, alright," you say, trying to change the subject. "Can we please focus on something else now?"
Venti stands up, stretching. "Fine, fine. But you know we’re never going to let you live this down, right?"
“I’m personally going to buy several copies of this album,” Yoimiya giggles.
“I hope Albedo makes you guys do something embarrassing,” you huff.
"No wonder you're still a virgin if you sound like that when moaning,” Scaramouche says, smirking as he slips past you to sit on the couch. 
“Shut up,” you grumble.
“Can’t even defend yourself,” Scara taunts.
“Lot of talk for someone who also hasn’t gotten laid in a while,” Aether whistles.
“Whose side are you on, Aether?!”
//
Later that day
“Let’s just get this over with,” you sigh as you follow your members towards the studio.
“I’m excited,” Venti hums, skipping ahead of you.
“I’m surprised at how quickly they pulled this together,” Xiao comments, opening the door for you, “It’s like they’ve been waiting for you two to fuck up.”
“Which you have, several times,” Lumine unhelpfully pipes up from behind you.
“I’m so sick of you guys,” you grumble, accepting your fate.
As you walked into the studio, you could only stare in disbelief at the high ceiling, the windows that took the length of the walls letting in the evening light, poppy color mottled across the sky as the sun quietly set behind you. Wealth practically drips from the room as you look around. You never even used this space for your album photoshoots, since you guys never needed such a big space for just you six.
In one of the corners you spotted a large camera standing tall in front of a white backdrop, the ground adorned with roses and petals. The white-pink petals fluttered in the wind as the fans in the corner caused them to float throughout the studio. The reds and pinks jump out against the white. It was sickeningly romantic. You wanted to throw up at the implication.
You spotted Jean talking to Scaramouche, who looked like she was giving the other a pep talk before she spotted you and waved you over.
“Yn! We were just discussing the photoshoot, Lisa will instruct you two after she’s done talking to the crew. I need to go chat with them, you two stay here and get ready,” Jean rushed out, calling over some stylists to fix you guys up, already out of breath as she dashed over to Lisa. 
“You’re late,” Scara says as his greeting as a group of women start fussing over your guys’ hair and outfits.
“You’re early, tryhard.”
“Not your best comeback,” Yoimiya whistles from a few feet away.
“Alright you guys,” Lisa calls out, walking over to where your groups were gathered getting touched up, “We’re going to get the group shots over with, then some solo ones, and we’ll separate to do some pairing shots.”
//
They all stood together awkwardly as they waited for the staff to finish setting up the cameras, once they finally did they led the group and positioned them. For group pictures they had all the girls stand to one side and the guys on the other, so you guys were in a crescent moon shape. Right after you all separate, the girls in another set and the males in a different one. 
The cameraman moved and adjusted everyone for what felt like a hundred dozen times before he finally clapped and positioned you guys to take the picture. He had you hold a pose where you were sitting on a bench and leaning on your side for what felt like forever, you would surely gain some sort of back pain from this. 
The most awkward part was the solo photoshoots. Even after becoming an idol you still felt awfully awkward when doing them, but when it was just your members you could manage. But being in front of Scara made you feel extra self conscious. 
People like Aether and Childe had a blast, and all the girls seemed to be enjoying it. But you felt quite embarrassed as you were told to pose seductively and show more skin. You weren't alone in this predicament, since Xiao and Kazuha seemed to be having a tough time as well when they were forced to manspread on some seats. Scaramouche became complacent and let the cameraman adjust him accordingly, he even went along with the whorish poses Lisa was having too much fun making them all do.
“Doesn’t Scara look good manspreading half naked like that?” Venti whispers in your ear.
You jump, startled as you stare back at him in disdain.
“No,” you scoff, “Stop ogling him.”
You’re still still stuck on the fact that Scaramouche is shirtless and actually has a decent build. Yes, it's objectively hot—something that you’d admit under the pain of getting an arm hacked off—but it's also quite insane.
With the group photoshoot finished, they all bid farewell as they separated off into their own corners to do their paired shots. 
“Alright, Scara and Yn you guys are going to be in Set B,” Jean stated, gently pushing the two of them in that direction. You look and spot the dreaded set where it looked like cupid himself threw up.
You both trailed behind the cameramen over to it, trying your best to not step and wilt any of the flowers artistically placed on the ground. 
“Okay, I’m in charge of you guys!” Lisa grinned as you guys approached her, “I’m going to have so much fun with you two.”
“Not too much fun,” Scaramouche grumbles as you both go to stand before the camera.
“Scara, don’t be a prude and unbutton your shirt. Yn, I need you to lay down,” Lisa instructs, walking over and pushing you down until you’re laying down on the petals. You were still reluctant at the fact you would have to do a paired photoshoot with Scara, so your reaction time was still quite slow. Lisa eventually just adjusted your body as needed and bent down next to you, spreading out your hair and laid some petals on it, standing up to admire her work. 
“Scaramouche, you’re gonna hover over them and hold that position for a while, and when I say next you lean in as if you’re going to kiss them. Is that alright?” Lisa asked, already heading back to the camera and having the cameramen adjust it lower to capture them in the frame. 
“If I say no, does that do anything?” Scara asks.
“No! Now get to it!”
Scara mutters a curse under his breath as he begins to unbutton his button up. You catch a glimpse of his bare skin before he’s kneeling down to knees and crawling over you, placing both palms on either side of your head and leaning forward. Since he couldn’t just hold a plank over you forever, Scara placed one knee in between your legs and another one beside your left leg for stability. 
Your breath was hitched in your throat at the proximity, you could see every detail of Scara’s stupid face and makeup from underneath him. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to how intimate you both were being right now, you’d never been underneath someone like this before. Unless you were being pinned down by Lumine during a fistfight of some sort when you accidentally ate her food. 
“Yn! Put your arms around his neck!”
You flinched at Lisa’s yell but did as you were told and wrapped your arms around Scara’s neck, bringing him closer as you did so. There wasn't anywhere to look but at Scara’s eyes, which felt awkward and weird in itself, so you opted for your eyes to wander. But they landed on his lips instead, which wasn’t any better.
Scara’s dark eyes bore into yours, his gaze not wavering as you looked everywhere but at him. That was before you realized this was a literal photoshoot and adjusted your eyes back to him. 
“Both of you, stop glaring!”
Scaramouche sighed above you, before forcing himself to soften his gaze towards you. It felt odd to be looked at like an equal by him.
You study Scaramouche closely, now that you’re forced to. He has these lips that are plush pink and they meet just barely like the slightest touch would coax them open. His eyelashes are long and there’s a beauty mark just shy of his eye coated over with concealer. His ears are small and there’s an assortment of earrings hanging off of them, ones he never wears during practice. He’s stupidly pretty. It makes you want to punch him.
“Alright, hold for ten then move to the next position.” 
Ten seconds? That felt like hours due to the way Scara was looking down at you, a fabricated gentle gaze in his eyes as he eyed you up and down. 
“Next!” 
“The faster we comply the faster I can get out of this stupid position with you,” Scara huffs, his voice barely above a whisper before he leans forwards and hovers his lips right above your jaw. Your body instinctively moves its hands to run through his hair, as if you both were actually going to kiss. God forbid.
“Cut!” 
The lights dimmed and Scara immediately pushed himself off of you. You slowly sat up, dizzy from the stress of being that close to someone you disliked.
“I’m the one who had to hover over you and you’re tired? Pathetic,” Scara huffs, reaching down to roughly tug your arm so you’re standing and almost immediately letting go of you after.
“Don’t you think this is a little too much?” Scara asks, walking ahead of you towards where Lisa was looking through the photos
“We made everyone do paired shoots, see!” Lisa says, turning the screen to show you. 
You and Scara scroll through to see all your members in pairs like you both, but none of them are quite like yours. 
“So Venti and Aether got to pose in a car and we had to fake a kiss?” Scara scoffs, “Where’s the delete button–?"
Lisa yanks the camera from him before he has the chance and shoos them off.
“I’ve got enough from you guys, go get your makeup undone.”
“This is so dumb,” you grumble as you follow behind Scara. All of this work because you both couldn’t keep your mouth shut during an awards show and now you had to fake being in love with the idiot.
You pray to Buddha, God, and whatever other deity out there that was most certainly laughing at you, that you can manage to get along with Scaramouche before anyone does notice it’s all fake.
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stuck with you!
masterlist — prev | next
when i say moans i mean like the song Mmmh by KAI like do u see the vision
also the album cover can be you or one of the other members depending on what ur comf with 😇
pls ignore how is it fake is listed twice 😔 also the lyrics are from taylor i can see you
yk the drill comment on the masterlist if i can use ur user and make u a fan
synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!
notes sorry guys for the long wait i was lowk goin thru it but im back 🗣️
taglist closed — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @kazuhasbabe
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to many more | s.r. x liaison!fem reader
“what’s your favorite book?”
spencer looked away from his open files to turn in his chair to see you standing behind him, a couple of manila folders held close to your baby blue long sleeve dress shirt. he had to keep his eyes from dropping lower to get a glance at the curves that hugged to your black pants.
he coughed as he blinked a few times behind his glasses, “uh, well there’s- there’s too many to choose from. if you’re asking about general literature i’d probably say-“
you held a hand out with a shaky smile, “sorry. don’t mean to interrupt. but um, i’m asking if there’s a book or story that’s very meaningful full for you.”
spencer straightened his mouth, feeling it form into that usual line. he let his mind scour for a moment, “uh maybe… alice in wonderland. my mom used to read it as a bed time story from time to time in between narnia and fifteenth century literature. she used to read me valentines poems.”
he saw your brows raise for a moment, “that’s sweet. which did she recite the most?” you readjusted the files.
spencer tapped his fingers over his thighs, “mostly chaucer’s parlement of foules. The poem, which is in the form of a dream vision in rhyme royal stanza, contains one of the earliest references to the idea that St. Valentine's Day is a special day for lovers…” he stopped short when he saw a bored expression draping your face. “sorry, rambling.”
your eyes widen and you took a step closer, “no, no. you’re fine. your voice soothes me, probably looked a bit drowsy.”
spencer scrunched his face, “most people would look tired cause i’m boring them to sleep.” he saw your face fall at his words, he didn’t like the sight.
“well i like hearing your information. i find what you know quite fascinating, like last week you told me that flamingos feathers are actually white or pale gray, but appear pink cause of algae and shrimp. i would’ve never know that.” your smile pushed your cheeks, pupils beaming alight as he felt them ghostly tracing his face.
bashful your eyes directed to your feet, “i enjoyed our date last week.” moving some fingers to run behind your ear, “i’ve always wanted to visit the planetarium, but never found the time.”
spencer smiled fondly, “i’m glad i was able to get you the chance. sometimes they do thirty minute segments on each zodiac sign, it’s when i see a lot of ‘psychics’.”
you chuckled lightly, spencer’s grin widened. “i should take you to one for fun. just to test how real they are.”
he couldn’t help rolling his eyes, “don’t waste your money.” you shrugged simply, “could be a fun third date. she can verify that we’re a match.” giving your upper body a slight twisting at the waist.
before spencer could say anything in reply, you both turned to see hotch calling you from his upper office. “shit, forgot i had to drop these off. i’ll see you later.” and you stepped into his space to lean in an leave a kiss to his forehead. he could feel the residue of your fading gloss. he was happy there wasn’t many people in the bullpen, he didn’t want to deal with morgan’s teasing right now.
the only possible person to have witnessed that display would be hotch. “reid, a word,” his stern voice causing him to flinch in his seat. he quickly made his way up the steps and into the office, closing the door behind him and standing beside you with his hands behind his back. he wasn’t planning to have this conversation a month early.
“is there something you both would like to inform me on?” hotch letting either of you confirm your new relationship instead of assuming.
“uh,” you started to say before spencer interrupted more confidently, “y/n and i are currently seeing each other. it’s only been about two months.” he turned to you, eyes locking and both of you smiled at each other, “but i’d like to believe this will last awhile.”
“well,” hotch cleared his throat, “since you’ve probably read through the handbook spencer, there isn’t anything wrong with fraternization between employees. i would just need both of you to fill out some paperwork.”
you both nodded in agreement. “and please, try not to let this distract you in the field. otherwise you’ll have to be in separate rooms, hotel and assignments.”
“yes sir,” giving a playful salute as he dismissed you both. you decided to pull spencer by his hand in the direction of your, shared office, already knowing jj was busy elsewhere.
“i hope that was-“ you spun into spencer, palms on his cheeks as your lips pressed onto his. he went still for a moment, but you knew he just needed a second to process. his fingers curled along your hips, his warmth seeping through your fabric and onto your skin.
you sighed into his mouth as he worked your lips apart, taking the lead he moved both of you further into the office. your thighs hit the edge, a small gasping allowing for spencer to boldly slip his tongue into your mouth, your heart was pumping in your ears.
if you weren’t in the office you’d let your greedy fingers start to work at unbuttoning his shirt, but instead you were stopped short when someone groaned out, “holy shit!”
spencer was the first to jump away and you saw that penelope and jj were at the threshold with jaws dropped and bugged eyes. “you freaky love birds!” penelope screeched.
“i need to burn this room,” jj groaned as she turned on her heels.
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a-small-safe-place · 9 months
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New Addition
Platonic!Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham w/ Child!Reader
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You knocked on the door of the large house Hannibal had picked out for him and Will to live in. It was out of the way from the town, so it was odd to receive a knock. Luckily, it was Will that answered rather than Hannibal. The other kids in town said the men who lived in this house liked to kidnap badly behaving girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But this man didn’t seem scary. He seemed nice as he scolded their dogs for running out of the house.
“Hello, mister, I’m selling chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for my school and wanted to see if you would like to buy one?” You asked, trying to sound confident but sounding shaky instead. He didn’t seem to mind; he seemed happy you were there. “I happen to love chocolate-covered pretzels, but my husband thinks they are too simple to be a good treat. Let’s see what flavors you have.” He begins looking through the flavors you brought when his husband, Hannibal, silently walks up behind the other man. “Who is this?” He asks Will.
“Oh, this is… uh…” You stop him and introduce yourself and again explain why you are there. “This is quite a ways away from the town; surely you did not walk all the way here.” Hannibal questions. “No, sir, I rode my bike. I knew there were a few houses out this way, and I was determined to visit.”
Your determination pleases Hannibal but slightly concerns him. You’re an innocent child. You can’t be out riding your bike on these secluded roads. Will quits digging in the pretzel box, “I have to go get dog food anyway; I could bring you back to town. We will take the whole box of your pretzels since you came all this way out here.” Hannibal seems mildly annoyed by this. You remember that Will said Hannibal thinks they are too simple. Will leaves you alone with Hannibal to grab some cash. “Would you like to step inside? You’ll get sick out there.” Hannibal asks. You gratefully step in. “Your home is pretty.” You observe, earning a soft approving smile from Hannibal.
“Thank you, not many people your age appreciate style. Though you don’t seem like many people your age.” After he finishes talking, you try to stay quiet, and finally, Will returns, giving you the money for your entire box of pretzels. “Now I’m heading into town; would you like a ride?” Will offers. “Yes, please.” You tell him.
The ride back is quiet until he begins to talk. “Most kids avoid our house for their fundraisers. Do you know why?” You glance nervously, “I think it’s just too far.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t have to worry about being polite. I know there’s probably a crazy rumor about Hannibal and me.” You stay silent, but the silence is too loud to handle, “All the kids think you and Dr. Lecter like to kidnap and girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”
“Well, maybe that’s why I needed all those sweet pretzels, so Dr. Lecter and I could finish building our cottage made of candy.” He seems a little sad at the revelation of this rumor. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He smiles and says, “Don’t worry about it. You could make it up to me by telling me how this rumor got started.”
“One of the boys that graduated high school last year told his little brother that he broke into your home on a dare and found human meat in the freezer, but he couldn’t go to the police because he was trespassing and he was high.” You finish explaining. Will smiles a bit, but it has a nervous edge this time, “Do you think we eat bad girls and boys?” You think about it, “no, because you had a bunch of times where you could have killed and eaten me.”
“Are you a bad kid?” Will asks teasingly. “I don’t know. I get in trouble sometimes. My house is in town away, in a trailer park.” Will knew which trailer park. It was “the bad part of town” he knew because he saw the crime statistics for that area and the number of times the cops are called out there. He had seen them the few times he and Hannibal helped with the local law. Hannibal had gotten close with the town’s political figures, and Will had basically been made into an honorary detective with the law enforcement. This town was corrupt to its core, but it was away from the prying eyes of the FBI, and it’s the only place Hannibal and Will could agree on geographically. Will’s only stipulation was that there were good places to fish.
Eventually, you make it to the trailer. Will waits until you make it inside. He cannot help but think about Abigail. He could have had a potential family with Hannibal if things had gone correctly. He was happy with Hannibal and the dogs, but something about you made him want more.
Weeks pass, and he does not bring the topic up to Hannibal. Little did he know Hannibal had been keeping an extra close eye on you. He did it under the guise of getting more pretzels for Will and then special ordering one of the unique flavors that you did not have so he could come back around to "check on the order." Will finds this all out when you see him in the store and give him the order Hannibal had placed.
"That kid from the other day gave me the order you placed," Will says placing the box on the table. "I thought you hated junk food."
"I do; they were a surprise for you. You seem to have taken a liking to the child." Hannibal observes. "They're a good kid. They kind of remind me of Abigail." The room becomes silent for a second too long. Hannibal hates it when Will brings up Abigail. "You seem to like the kid too. You went out of your way to find them to order the pretzels when there were plenty of easier options to order from." Hannibal knows he has been caught.
"They're a well-behaved child, very polite. Like Abigail." Hannibal says somewhat pointedly. "Have you thought about us expanding our family? Not with another dog, but with a human?" Hannibal asks before Will has time to respond to the first statement.
"I hadn't, and then that kid came knocking at the door, and since then, it is all I can think about. But I don't want any kid. Our kid from the trailer park seems to be the best fit; it has to be them." Will explains, hoping that Hannibal will understand.
"Then so be it; they will be our child for us to protect," Hannibal says as if this is a normal conversation.
As the two men begin to work on a plan to add you to their family, their fatherly love for you grows more into fatherly obsession. You're their kid; no one gets to hurt you. Once you're safe and comfortable in their home, no one but them will get to be around you until they know you love them just as much. Hannibal wastes no time putting your room together with all of your favorite things. They were going to make your room the same way it is in the trailer until Hannibal saw the state of your room and became disgusted by the idea of that kind of room being in his expensive house.
Will tries to make a plan to make your transition to their house easier. He finds all kinds of games and activities you are sure to love, even the ones that Hannibal is convinced are bad for your growing brain.
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starkwlkr · 1 year
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annoying little brothers | f1
female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) (same age as daniel so 33)
part 2 part 3
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Y/N L/N BEING THE FUNNIEST DRIVER ON THE GRID
The video starts of with a press conference from the United States Grand Prix. Y/n was seated with Charles, Pierre, Daniel and Sebastian her being in the middle of all the men who she considered her brothers.
She was listening to all the questions the men were receiving from how they thought they were going to do, how’s the team doing, etc. But when a reported finally asked her a question, she completely blanked.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about my son. We were supposed to get breakfast together and he hasn’t texted me back. I haven’t seen Lando all day.” Y/‘ said making the drivers and reporters laugh.
“When did you adopt Lando? I wasn’t aware.” Daniel played along.
“2019. He was actually lost when I met him. It was during the Australian Grand Prix, his first f1 race. I found him and we did the Melbourne walk together and I’ve just kind of adopted ever since. So if any of you bully my son, I’m coming after you.” Y/n explained.
“He’s probably texting you right now saying ‘stop embarrassing me, mom!’” Sebastian went on.
“Wait, he’s over there!” Pierre spotted the Brit rushing towards their direction.
“He’s alive!” Charles cheered.
Finally, Lando arrived to their interview area with a box from a a bakery in his hand. “Sorry, I have to drop this off. We’ll get breakfast tomorrow. I got you pastries.” Lando gave Y/n the box and a hug then he was off since he was late for his interview.
“You’ve raised your son well.” The reporter joked.
“That was all me, I needed no help.”
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The next clip was a fan video from 2021. Y/n had just finished her date with a guy and now she was signing autographs and taking photos with a group of girls. The girls had just finished their meals at a restaurant when they spotted the f1 driver leaving with a guy. The politely asked for a photo, which y/n was more than glad to take. Her date stepped aside to give them a moment.
“Sorry to interrupt your date.” A girl apologized for her and all her friends.
“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m actually nervous because I don’t know how the date went. I’m horrible at first dates so this is kinda making me less stressed.” Y/n admitted. The girls laughed as y/n signed a girls phone case.
“Has he met Lando?” Another girl asked knowing how close y/n and lando are.
“Not yet. I’m afraid that Lando might scare him off. Everyone on the grid might, especially seb. He will definitely give him one of those ‘treat her right or I will run you over’ speeches.” Y/n signed another phone case.
“Does he knows you’re famous?”
“Oh god, no! I told him I was unemployed and that a sugar daddy was giving me money. I’m surprised he still agreed to come on this date with me.” Y/n chuckled.
Months later, the guy ended up being y/n’s boyfriend. He even attended the British Grand Prix where he finally met Lando, who was actually the one to tell him to treat y/n right or he would run him over.
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The next clip started off with the intro to grill the grid. The challenge was to guess the driver’s numbers, something that y/n was semi confident about.
“So we start off with my man, Danny, number three.” She wrote down on her clipboard. “Four, my son, Lando. Also ever since I met Lando I’ve been seeing the number four quite often. It’s scary actually. Can’t decide if Lando put a curse on me or not.”
“Would he do that?”
“He shouldn’t,” y/n raised her voice slightly. “Anyways, next is … oh! Seb! I don’t know why I couldn’t think of him right away. Then we have latifi at number six then kimi at seven.” She continued writing down the names.
“Nine ….Mazepin.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes since her and the driver were never on good terms.
“Ten, my favorite frenchie well one of, we treat everyone nice here, gasly.” Y/n winked at the camera. “Eleven, the mexican minister of defense, Perez. And then we have me! Thirteen!”
“Do you think Lando got your number right?”
“I don’t doubt him ever.”
“Thirteen, my mother! Everyone better get that right.” Lando pointed at the camera menacingly.
“Fourteen, Alonzo. Sixteen, Leclerc Charles. Eighteen, stroll and twenty two!” Y/n sang the number in the tune of taylor swift’s song. “Yuki! Thirty one, Esteban, my other frenchie. Thirty three, max does he have a middle name verstappen.”
“Have you noticed that you haven’t gotten any wrong yet?”
“I’m just the best, that’s why.” Y/n laughed. “Forty four, the seven time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. Fourty seven, mick mick mick. I love to say his name.”
Y/n had completely forgotten she had to be writing the names down. She was having too much fun.
“Fifty five, carlos smooth operator sainz jr. sixty three, the man with two first names, russell george.” Y/n said as she looked down at the numbers on the paper.
“Do you know his middle name?”
Y/n gasped. “Is it another first name?”
“I believe it’s William.”
“Three names!? It sounds so british.” Y/n chuckled. “Um, seventy seven valtteri, right?” Y/n saw the interviewer nod. “I was getting worried my streak would be broken. And ninety nine, antonio!”
“You got all of them!” Everyone in the room cheered.
“Did anyone else get them all?” Y/n asked.
“Daniel did.”
“Of course. He’s good with numbers.”
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The next clip was from the same grill the grid video but it was a blooper. Lando had arrived right as y/n finished filming and handed her a water bottle.
“Did you get my number?” Lando asked curiously.
“Yeah, ninety five, right? Cause you’re a McQueen fan.” Y/n teased as she grabbed the bottle from lando’s hand.
“Yeah, you remembered!” Lando played along “how did she really do?” He asked.
“She got them all right.”
“Really? I’ve got a smart mother!” Lando high fived the woman.
“It’s because I’ve got a photographic memory.” Y/n nodded with the most serious face on.
“Do you really?” Lando asked. He was surprised to hear that.
“No, I just love to lie.”
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The next clip started with Daniel and Lando standing next to boards with their 2022 rankings. As predicted, Daniel and Lando’s part of the interview was mostly filled with them drawing over each other’s pictures.
Daniel them knocked over Lando’s rankings to the ground. “That’s how I feel.”
“That was the worst timing ever. Y/n is walking this way.” Lando told Daniel, who immediately picked up the board.
“Are those your rankings?” Y/n asked as she approached the duo. She then noticed that the setup and quickly apologized to the camera man. “Sorry, I’m just curious now.”
“Are you proud of me?” Lando asked, standing next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulder.
“When am I not? Wait, except that time you pushed me into my birthday cake.” Y/n pinched his side. “Can I see the pen?” She asked the guys, Lando gave her his.
“She’s adding to our masterpieces. This piece will be worth millions years from now.” Daniel said.
Y/n then scribbled little stars around Lando’s head and then signed it at the top. “Actually you both look great in your pictures. Did they use photoshop?”
“Excuse me, this is all natural.”
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“Y/n! Hi, hello. What’s going on here?” Martin brundle asked the woman as she walked with her mom and pr manager, Lucy.
“Martin! It’s been a while, nothing much. How are you?” Y/n hugged the former racing driver. “This is my mom, she’s been wanting to meet you.”
“Mrs. l/n, hello. Welcome, how are you?” Martin greeted the older woman.
“Great. I’m here supporting my girl. It’s been a wonderful weekend.” Y/n’s mom smiled.
“Are you aware that you have a grandson that drives for McLaren?” Martin asked making all three ladies laugh.
“Yes, Lando is a very lovely young man.”
“How does it feel to have a daughter and grandson in f1?” Martin asked in a serious tone.
“Amazing. I’m super proud of both of them.”
“Thank you ladies for your time. Have a wonderful day.” Martin smiled at them, but before he could leave, y/n gave him a hug goodbye.
“Take care, Martin!” Y/n waved to the man and left with her mom and Lucy.
“She wins everything. Give her all the trophies. Everything is hers.” Martin said to the camera.
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The final clip was consisted of y/n after a race getting interviewed.
“Do you often see your father?” Someone asked from the back.
“No, actually we’re just good friends.”
“What’s your opinion on the president of the United States?” Asked the same person.
“I don’t think about him.”
“What’s going on between max verstappen and lewis hamilton?”
“I don’t know, I just work here.”
3K notes · View notes
emphistic · 3 months
Text
Forget-me-nots
A/N: call me Nick Cannon the way im out here rawdogging this fever
<- Series m.list
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“Hey, babe,” you said, catching Sukuna by surprise. You placed your hands on the back of his gaming chair, “I’m gonna go on a walk. D’you wanna come with?”
“I’d rather go for a run, but God knows your slow ass wouldn’t be able to keep up.” Sukuna removed his headset and placed it on his desk, before following you out of the room.
If he had kept his headset on for just a little longer, Sukuna would’ve heard the protests and complaints of Gojo. The white-haired man was utterly disappointed at Sukuna for leaving in the middle of a game, who was going to carry him now that Sukuna was gone?
Sukuna looked you up and down, watching you as you put on your shoes, and let out a scoff, getting your attention. “You’re forgetting something.”
You met his gaze, “Uh huh, go on.”
“A jacket, dumbass. A jacket.”
You waved your hand around, dismissing his suggestion. “Don’t be silly, Sukuna. It doesn’t go with my outfit.”
“That so?” He raised a brow.
“Mhm.”
“It’s literally dark out, babe. Who are you trying to impress?”
The two of you continued on your way out of the complex without putting an end to your usual lighthearted banter. The sky was clear of clouds when you made it past the front doors; and cool air immediately hit your skin. Okay, maybe Sukuna wasn’t wrong in reminding you to layer up.
But, despite his demeanor on the exterior, Sukuna was far from cloud nine. Was that selfish of him? To truly have everything, and yet, still want more? He managed to get himself a loving girlfriend, not to mention, one that was exceptionally beautiful, both on the inside and outside. He should be content; he should be satisfied. But how could he? When guilt gnawed at him every second, every minute, every hour?
Sukuna was afraid, deathly. 
He could tell you about the bet, but it was inevitable that you would leave him right after. Or, he could choose to keep silent about the bet for the rest of his life. But that would mean Naoya Zen’in having a leg up on him, and that was no good.
Sukuna couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at your face, admiring your elated expression. He liked the sound of your voice, and hearing you laugh. The thought of you being gone plagued his mind, and he knew he would be a dead man walking if that nightmare became true.
Things truly could not be worse for the pink-haired man, who felt utterly pathetic. He felt vulnerable, and weak. Completely opposite of the image most people portrayed him as. Which is quite amusing, to say the least.
Sukuna was at a crossroad, but it was clear he wasn’t choosing either path. Maybe it was the worst choice, maybe it was the best choice, but Sukuna knew that doing nothing was probably the most impactful choice, and so he decided to let God play out his fate, leaving him to wait day and night, never knowing when you would find out and his world would flip upside down.
To bet something is to “risk something, usually a sum of money, against someone else’s on the basis of the outcome of a future event, such as the result of a race or game.” Sukuna knew that, when he was drunk at that damned party. Sukuna knew that, when he signed up for this. Sukuna knew; he wasn’t stupid; he was a grown man. And yet, he had never felt so little.
“—Nobara was telling me, after the party, about my . . . complexion, or, I don’t know. My skin was apparently glowing—”
“Are you a virgin or something?” Sukuna cut you off with a laugh, turning to look at you. And, not that he had any knowledge in the field, but, with the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the wind, and with the way the moonlight casted upon your face, illuminating your best features, you looked just like a cinematic masterpiece.
You gave him a pointed look, as if to say, You would know, and again, Sukuna laughed.
“It’s called afterglow, babe. Science-y stuff, I figured you would already know, but I guess not.”
“Can you go one second without being rude?”
“You’re funny; don’t get your hopes up too high,” Sukuna ruffled your hair as you both continued down the dimly lit street.
It was a quiet, peaceful night. There would usually be something happening a block away, maybe sirens in the distance, kids playing around and screaming, but there was not. Maybe that was a blessing, maybe that was a curse, but it left you and Sukuna both to your own thoughts, and that was comforting enough.
“Is everything okay? Did you have a long day?” you asked, breaking the overwhelming silence. You turned to look at Sukuna with worry written all over your expression.
Sukuna had been tense ever since he got home, like a heavy weight had been placed upon his shoulders. You thought it strange; your boyfriend was a carefree man. He was easygoing and laid back; he knew how to start up a conversation, get everyone’s mood up, but this. . . This wasn’t Sukuna.
Whenever you two went on walks or runs together, sure, there’s a silence, but it was never like. . . Like something was wrong. It was never like this.
“Hm? No, I’m fine. I just have a lot to think about, that’s all. Don’t worry for me, ‘kay?” Sukuna gave you a smile, but it only tightened the knot in your chest, your concern doing the opposite of diminishing.
Truth was, you didn’t know what to think. And if you had to be honest, you couldn’t say your mind hadn’t wandered to the idea of Sukuna being unsatisfied with your relationship. Was he upset with you? Did he think you too much? You shuddered just thinking about it.
Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna watched as your eyebrows furrowed, and you chewed at your bottom lip. It was a habit of yours — the latter, and Sukuna noticed you only gave in to it whenever you were anxious or deep in thought.
“Hey, I was thinking, how about we go out sometime?” asked Sukuna, out of the blue. 
You two hadn’t been on a date since the baseball game, and that was a while ago. Sukuna missed spending an entire day with you, and was desperate for something fun to take his mind off of the bet.
“You make it sound like we haven’t even kissed yet,” you covered your mouth, trying, but failing, to stifle a giggle.
“What else did you want me to say, huh?” Sukuna humored you, mentally patting himself on the back for managing to lift the tension.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like, ‘Do you want to—,’ actually, I have no idea. How do you ask someone on a not-first date?”
“That’s a good question,” Sukuna added. “Now that I think of it, I’m not sure.”
“Eh, whatever. Any other way is totally better than yours.”
“Now who’s the rude one, hm? Do you want to go on that date or what?”
You laughed, “I’m only teasing, ‘Kuna. Of course I do; I don’t even know why you’re asking.”
“It’s polite.”
“You? Polite? Hilarious.” You placed a hand on Sukuna’s arm, but he pulled away, feigning to be hurt by your words. But you knew he was just trying to joke around.
“Awh, baby, don’t be sad. How can I make it up to my handsome, handsome boyfriend?”
“You can’t.” Sukuna turned his head away from you, hiding his grin.
You didn’t take no for an answer, and stood on your tiptoes in order to plant a wet kiss on Sukuna’s cheek, even going as far to voice a Mwah! sound.
When Sukuna still didn’t look at you, you started to wonder if he was genuinely upset. But when he abruptly turned around to smash his lips on yours, all other thoughts in your head completely vanished and you melted in his arms. Placing your hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your waist, you kissed him back just as fervently.
One of Sukuna’s hands wandered down your middle to the small of your back and rested just above your behind.
With your boyfriend’s lips on yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and his murmuring of sweet nothings every now and then, all previous worries and concerns of yours were no match. Maybe everything was fine, after all.
-
“You look good,” Sukuna said, a sultry look in his eyes as he shamelessly checked you out.
You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks, “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He shrugged, “I try.”
“So, where are we headed?” You asked, immediately after entering your boyfriend’s car.
Sukuna hadn’t told you anything since he asked you out. Only thing he said was, “Look pretty for me, like you always do, and bring a jacket or something.” But since he knew there was no way in hell you were going to listen to that last bit, he already knew he was giving you his hoodie if you needed it.
“Ah, you wouldn’t know,” said Sukuna, as he started driving down the road.
“Oh, yeah? What, you gonna drive me to a secluded area and chop off my head or something? Is that why you’re being so lowkey about all of this?”
“Would you like that?” Sukuna quipped, turning to look at you as he pulled up to a red light.
You laughed, “I don’t know; I haven’t tried it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
It wasn’t long till Sukuna and you arrived at a crowded space overshadowed by the large buildings beside it. Said space was filled from corner to corner with food vendors and other small shops selling trinkets, clothes, toys, et cetera. There was music booming from speakers located all around, and the air smelled like a variety of food that had you salivating on the spot. Not to mention, the beautiful array of string lights above all the stalls, giving an authentic sense and feel to things.
Families, friends, couples, and individuals walked through the streets of the area. Carrying toys that lit up or made music with a simple click of a button, holding small paper plates stacked with food, bargaining prices of intricate garments, or simply conversing with their companions. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, gossip, jokes, whispers.
The exciting, fun-filled atmosphere of the place was surely popular among its customers. And, even taking one look at it all, you knew you were bound to have endless entertainment and enjoyment here, tonight.
“What do you think?” Sukuna asked, noticing you had gone quiet. His voice was barely above a whisper, saddened by the idea of you hating it. He thought you might’ve liked something like this, that’s why he picked this place. But maybe his judgment was—
“It’s—I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s beautiful, and the food smells amazing,” you smiled, looking at Sukuna.
Unbeknownst to you, the pink-haired man let out a sigh of relief upon hearing your answer.
“I used to go here all the time with Yuuji back when we were little; he loved the oyakodon. I don’t know if they still have the same one he preferred.”
“We should take a picture, babe. Make him jealous that we’re having a better dinner than him.”
Sukuna laughed, “You’re starting to sound like me. I think I’m rubbing off on you, squirt.”
“It’s only payback since he ate the last of my Häagen-Dazs. I was saving it,” you grumbled, still holding a grudge about the distant memory.
“Sure, sure.”
Sukuna snaked an arm around your waist, directing you to a red, striped stall. Smoke flying from the back of it as people fried and cooked and did whatever. “Jakoten?” he suggested.
“Obviously.”
If there was one thing you learned while being with Sukuna, it was that he was an eater. He wasn’t picky, no, quite the opposite, really. He could eat literally anything he got his hands on. Sukuna had a strict diet — being an athlete and all that — but he had his off days, where he could eat anything he pleased.
And, although you are a little less “wild” compared to him, you two often shared interest in the same dishes. Like jakoten, for example. But that’s a simple one, most people like it, so that’s not much good of an instance.
Sukuna and you waited near the front of the food stand, and when it was time and your order came out, Sukuna helped put a cupped hand under your chin, catching all of the tiny crumbs in his palm.
“Good, right?”
Your reply came muffled, as you chewed on the fried fish paste. “Mhm.”
“Where do you want to go next?” Jakoten was delicious, Sukuna couldn’t deny it, but you would be wrong if you thought that was enough to satisfy his hunger.
“Hm, we should go and see if they have tonkatsu. I’m kinda hungry for a main dish now.”
Together, you and Sukuna walked hand in hand around the people-filled space, seeking out different meals to try. Contrary to your main mission — finding a filling dish, you and Sukuna both had your fair share of small appetizers and sweet treats. When you two decided unanimously to find a table to sit down at and enjoy your dinner, you weren’t aware of how difficult of a journey that was.
To say the place was packed was an understatement, and most people didn’t even try to find seats, instead opting to stand and walk the whole time. After getting hundreds of steps in just to come out fruitless, you and Sukuna gave up on even the idea of sitting down.
“You know, I was thinking,” you began, while picking at the greens on your plate, “we should totally get a bowl of noodles, and recreate that scene from Lady and the Tramp.”
“We totally should not.” Sukuna shook his head, an unamused look on his face as he bit into a Japanese type of skewered chicken.
“C’mon, it’ll be cute. And, and, we would get to kiss,” you pursued.
“Is kissing you supposed to tempt me?”
“I—How dare you; you know what, don’t talk to me.” You turned away from a laughing Sukuna.
“Aw, sweetheart, I was just joking. ‘sides, who would pay for your food if you walked away from me?”
You turned back around.
Pleased with himself — having gotten your attention back, Sukuna gave a boyish smile, “That’s more like it,” before swinging an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.
You squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling, “Don’t, ‘Kuna. You’re going to make me drop my food.”
“So cold. Your boyfriend’s giving you kisses and you tell him to stop? That’s a new low, even for you,” Sukuna feigned a hurt tone, but remained smiling all the while.
“Mm, yeah. Sulk all you want, you were the one who refused my kisses first. Don’t you dare forget.”
“You’re really never going to let that go, are you? Ah, I know, would this,” he pulled out a wad of cash, “change your mind?”
Sukuna had seen you eyeing a ramune-selling vendor ever since the both of you arrived. Of course, after being around you for so long, he was quick to learn that ramune was one of your weak spots. You were a fiend for anything sweet, after all. And the popular carbonated drink was perfect for the current weather.
Seeing your eyes widen to saucers, Sukuna knew he had won you over.
“Just, get me one, too, alright? You’re not the only thirsty person here.”
As you began to walk in the direction of the stand, Sukuna abruptly pulled you back, “Actually . . . they might have soju, so get me a cup of that instead. You know the kind I like.” And with that — and a final kiss to your cheek, Sukuna sent you off.
It didn’t take very long to acquire your drinks, as the line was pretty short seeing as most people were starting to leave the area considering the late time. On the other hand, it did take you a fairly drawn-out amount of time to find Sukuna. For he wasn’t in the same place he was before; Sukuna was now standing in a much more secluded area. And, he wasn’t alone, either.
The blond dude, who hosted that party, was standing in front of a very tense-looking Sukuna. To passersby and the naked eye, the two men might look like they were simply a pair of friends conversing. But to you, you noticed Sukuna’s clenched jaw. You noticed his arms, crossed over his chest. You noticed his eyes, usually holding a light to them, were dark, and Sukuna was glowering.
You assumed they started talking a little while after you left Sukuna to go shopping, and, as strong as your morals were, you couldn’t help but listen in to their conversation.
“—I’m surprised, I didn’t foresee a chance to meet you tonight, captain. And, another date? You’re really scoring, aren’t you? Though, I can’t say I expected less from the Ryomen.”
“Look, Zen’in, I told you — a million times, actually, I’m done playing this stupid game of yours. Grow up, or, better yet, find something else to entertain your fucked up brain.”
“Woah, didn’t mean to hit a nerve there. I was just about to ask — since we’re already here — if you wanted your cash now, or later. Wouldn’t want to intrude on your little date.” Naoya let out a low laugh, “You know, you’re really starting to drain my bank account. First kiss, two dates, and you fucked her? Man, you’ve outdone yourself.”
With each sentence that man spoke, your jaw only dropped lower and lower. Your chest tightened, and it felt unbearably suffocating to breathe. Tears threatened to spill at any second, but you still weren’t sure if Naoya was lying, and making all of this up. 
God, let this be just a nightmare.
Sukuna couldn’t have. . . Sukuna wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do something like that to you, right? He wouldn’t use someone, all for a silly bet.
Heat rose to your face, as emotions bottled up inside of you. You didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Sad? Betrayed?
When the blond noticed you standing only a few feet away, and snickered, “Whoops, looks like I am interrupting something.”
Naoya flashed you a fake smile, before turning back to Sukuna, “Take care, Ryomen.” He pressed multiple hundred dollar bills onto the pink-haired man’s hand, and took his leave.
Sukuna hadn’t noticed you before Naoya said something, and when he saw your face, hurt written all over your features, his eyes softened. He tried to take a step forward, but with every step he took, you took two backwards.
“Sukuna, I—I don’t even know what to say to you,” your voice cracked, and Sukuna swore his heart shattered right then and there at the look on your face. “Is it true? — the things he said?”
It pained Sukuna, to see you hold out hope. Hope for him. Hope for your relationship. He was undeserving of such grace to be bestowed upon him, and couldn’t say anything but, “I’m sorry.”
Your expression morphed into that of confusion, and then into one of frustration and anger. You couldn’t believe Sukuna just threw away everything you two had, shared, dreamed of, all for some money and a stupid bet.
“Was nothing we had real to you? Was everything just a big ole lie you fed me so that you could see some more zeros at the end of your already large enough fortune? . . .Sukuna, answer me.”
Your voice got softer as you spoke, till it was just above a whisper. Your breathing was uneven, and came in gasps. This was all too much for you to wrap your head around. 
“I trusted you, I gave you everything. You saw me vulnerable, you saw me naked, you . . . you—” You weren’t even aware when it started, but tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point, and even wiping them away with your sleeve didn’t help.
All the while, the man who brought you so much joy, and now, so much pain, could do nothing but stare back at you in silence. His eyes were empty, the light gone. The man you loved, gone. Sukuna didn’t try and defend his stupidity, he had no reason to. He was in the wrong, and was — rightfully so — being berated for his doings. Sukuna loved you, but pride was a much stronger feeling than love.
“I thought you changed, Sukuna. I thought you matured, and grew up, and learned, but . . . God, I was so wrong. You’re nothing different than the boy who tormented me in high school, aren’t you. But, I don’t understand. . . What did I do to you? What did I do for you to—to treat me like this? You willingly accepted to be paid to take me out?”
“Was I not enough for you, Ryomen? That you felt the need to be rewarded for staying with me?” Your voice was so, so soft; it sent a pang through Sukuna’s heart.
In your eyes, Sukuna now looked so different, after having learned what you did. He was really nothing but a man. A man whose pride and dignity and ego took the best, and worst, of him.
“I can’t believe I even trusted you. But, you know what, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you think of me. It doesn’t matter what I did. Anything regarding you doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
You’re not sure what took over you at that very moment, but you do know that throwing a drink at a man does contribute to getting your emotions out. “There, you can have your soju, you can have your money, you can have whatever you want. Good bye, Ryomen. And good fucking night.”
You had no way home; Sukuna was the one who drove you two here, and you both knew that. But you didn’t care. As long as you got away from that man you would be okay. You would be okay. . .
At that very moment, after seeing you storm away from him, and into the crowds of people — who appeared shocked to see a woman with mascara running down her cheeks, — Sukuna understood the term ‘significant other’. He realized you were his other half. You completed him. But now. . . You were gone, disappeared, left — forever, if he didn’t do something about it. Sukuna wasn’t whole. Hell, he wasn’t even half. He was nothing, nothing without you.
It wasn’t like Sukuna to cry; he was a grown man. And yet, he had never felt so little.
As the days went on, Sukuna couldn’t have been more stupid as to think you would talk with him after a week’s time, and that everything would go back to normal. He wanted this to be a nightmare. But oh, how wrong he was. For days upon days upon days, you greeted him with nothing but silence.
You blocked him on all social media, you premeditated routes to avoid him on campus, you deleted his number, you did everything to erase the face of the man whom you called the love of your life from your mind. The both of you went from texting or calling each other almost every night to complete radio silence. It drove Sukuna to the brink of insanity.
-
“—I’m just saying, you should go tell her you’re sorry. I mean, that was a really fucked up thing to do. And, even coming from you, I’m surprised.” Yuuji popped another potato chip into his mouth as he lounged on his older brother’s sofa.
“Don’t you think I’ve done that already? She hates my guts, Yuuji, and—and I don’t blame her but. . . Right now, she thinks I’m a dickhead who just used her for money. But that’s totally not true.”
Yuuji raised a brow, as if to say, Are you sure about that? And Sukuna sighed, plopping down beside his brother.
“Okay, I’ll admit, I technically was using her, but only at the very beginning, but everything after our first phone call was real, genuine. I didn’t get into this whole bet thing to hurt her, I was just trying to prove Naoya’s bitchass wrong and maybe make his wallet lighter at the same time. . . I really, really love her, Yuu—”
“Y’know, I’m not a big fan of listening to your drama-filled life, but I’m also not very keen on hearing you be a sap.”
Sukuna, outright ignoring his brother, continued on with his speech anyway, “God, this might be the most stupid thing I’ve ever done.” He ran a hand down his face, exasperated.
“It is.”
Sukuna shot him a pointed look, and the younger boy only shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, dude, I’m pretty sure your girl broke things off permanently. Besides, there’s not much you can do to redeem yourself, anyway. Betting on a relationship is a pretty shitty move.”
“Do I look like I don’t know that?” Sukuna grumbled, stealing a handful of chips from Yuuji’s bowl.
“Well, you could’ve at least explained yourself while you had the chance, instead of just saying you’re sorry. I mean, poor girl, you faked a relationship with her and that’s all she knows.”
Sukuna — deep in thought, held his head in his hands.
“I’m sure if you tried to give an explanation she would at least hear you out. Eh, it might not even be too late to get her a bouquet or something. Whaddya know, I heard girls liked those kinds of things, when you get them their favorite flower and stuff.”
Yuuji paused, “You do know her favorite flower, right?”
“. . .”
“Man, I’m an optimistic person at heart, but this is just. . . You might be a lost cause, ‘Kuna.”
-
Sukuna had a lot of hope. Key word: had. As in, used to have.
Attempt no1:
They say Forget-me-nots (also referred to as Scorpion Grasses) represent true love, and respect or, at least, something of the like. But, the flower also — when gifted to someone — symbolizes that you’ll always hold them in your heart and in your thoughts and in your mind. The flower could additionally be interpreted to suggest fidelity, and being truthful, genuine, to someone you love. 
Now, Sukuna knew you were smart. And he never doubted that fact, despite all of his previous teasing and joking of that. But he had never wished for someone to have knowledge about the meanings of flowers more than he has at this very moment.
It’s funny, one can laugh, but it’s true that Sukuna spent countless hours researching different flowers and their archaic all the way to their modern meanings just so he could prove maybe he wasn’t that much of a dick, after all.
But maybe, he should’ve put a little more effort into the planning of his execution rather than the organizing part of it.
Sukuna knew you were avoiding him, even going as far as changing your daily routes to classes even if it meant walking farther distances. He was more impressed than offended at how dedicated you were to the whole “Never-Seeing-His-Face-Again” bit.
There really wasn’t much he could do to be able to see you in person, since you blocked all contact with him, but . . . Sukuna did happen to think of one way he could meet up with you.
While he may not have been the best boyfriend, Sukuna was still . . . decent, sorta, if you put aside the whole bet crisis. And, even if he couldn’t remember the purpose of your Student Council meetings, he did remember the directions to where your briefings took place. Call him a stalker or serial killer or whatever, it doesn’t change the fact he drove you to and from those damned meetings.
Pacing to and fro outside of a library was already strange enough; being covered in tattoos and having pink hair did not help with the amount of stares Sukuna received, but right now, he couldn’t care less. Sukuna gripped the bouquet of Forget-me-nots — and other flowers, but it was mainly filled with Forget-me-nots, like his life depended on it.
He went over his speech — that he had previously practiced with Yuuji the night before — over a hundred times in his head. But when he suddenly heard you call out his name out of confusion, all that he managed out was a plethora of garbled “I’m sorry’s” and “Please’s.”
“Sukuna? What—what are you doing here?” you asked, bewilderment written all over your features as your eyes wandered down to the enormous bouquet in his hands. Being greeted by your ex-boyfriend right after finishing a meeting was not on today’s Bingo card for you.
“I—I know the other night was . . . a mess,” Sukuna scratched the back of his neck, “but I didn’t get to explain myself and—”
“No, it’s okay, you have nothing to explain. Everything was a lie; everything you said was a lie; everything we did was a lie. See? I get it; no need for your clarification.” You shook your head, and began walking down the street to your next destination.
Even after knowing Sukuna for so long, you were a fool for thinking you could “outwalk” him. The male had no intention of letting you leave without you hearing him out first, and he was able to catch up to you within just a few strides.
“Can you just let me talk? For a second?”
You quickened your pace, trying your hardest to get him off your tail, but he just wouldn’t budge. Doesn’t this count as harassment?
“There’s nothing for you to say, Sukuna; I’m not wasting my time with you on this.”
Sukuna murmured your name, “Please, there’s more to the story than you think. I didn’t accept the bet to hurt you, I. . .” His voice trailed off as he wondered what to do next, but he suddenly remembered the bouquet and shoved it into your arms.
“What is this?” Your face morphed into one of incertitude, your voice softening as you examined the bouquet, but still, your pace never slowed.
“Special flowers, for a special girl.”
You rolled your eyes, again, quickening your pace; you were now speed walking while holding a comically large bouquet. Sukuna was finally not the only one being stared at, though he didn’t revel much in that fact.
“Don’t say that. You know we’re not together anymore; we’re over. Are you ever going to get that through your skull?” You finally stopped in your tracks, and turned to look at Sukuna — half because you were out of breath from walking so fast and half because you wanted to see the expression on his face.
“We don’t have to be; c’mon, I want to make things right—”
“Sukuna! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” A high pitched voice called out, out of the blue.
You both turned your heads to see who it came from.
“You never texted me after I gave you my number last week. Don’t tell me you’re shy; there’s nothing scary about this girl,” the short brunette giggled.
In truth, Sukuna had no idea who this was. Probably just some rando who hit on him after seeing him play basketball.
“Lady, I don’t even remember your name—”
But the girl had already caught up with Sukuna and looped her arm around his, acting all friendly and whatnot. Sukuna looked at you for help, but you merely scoffed, amused with the sight, “You shouldn’t have to make things right in the first place. You chose this, don’t you remember?”
Exhaling, you turned on your heel and walked away.
-
 “Nobs, I think I might take a break from the dating scene, for a while. I mean, I’ve only recently begun to be able to look at Sukuna’s face without breaking down in tears.” While you tried to appear better off, your voice gave it all away. You weren’t completely over him yet.
“But, you’re hot; you’re young. This could be the perfect opportunity for you to make Sukuna regret losing you.” Nobara tried her hardest to get you to go to this party with her; she knew about your recent breakup, of course, but she was apparently too scared to go on her own, since Maki was unavailable.
“If Sukuna’s going that just gives me all the more reason to not go,” you stopped shoving ice cream in your mouth for a second to really get your point across.
Nobara sprawled across your bedroom floor, miserable, but not as miserable as you. She started thinking about not going to the party after all, but she had been looking forward to it all week! Ugh, going alone is the most “Loser thing” ever.
You paused your eating, and thought to yourself, If Sukuna’s really desperate to explain to me and apologize, he must be in his feelings, so he probably won’t go to the party.
“Ah, you know what, maybe I can go to that party, after all—”
“Really? Oh, my God! Yes!” Nobara immediately jumped up from the floor and threw her arms around you, trapping you in a hug.
“I’m still stuck on why you’re so happy. I seriously do not get what’s so great about this party.”
“Everything, duh.”
“Whose house is this, again?” you asked, once you and Nobara pulled up at the address you put into the GPS.
“Uh, dunno. I’m pretty sure Yuuji does, though; he got me the invite.”
At the mention of his name, your mind immediately went to his brother. Which was your first mistake, since tonight was supposed to be fun, and help you forget about everything that went down.
“Oh, so they’re in the same year as us, then?”
“Mm, probably. C’mon, what are you stalling for, let’s party!” Nobara dragged you out of the car and continued dragging you until you both arrived in front of the door.
Upon entering, you noticed the house was . . . nice — definitely not a mansion, unlike someone else’s, but it was the size of a typical “party house”. It looked sorta old, but it wasn’t rundown, so maybe people just used it a lot for large gatherings like this.
Did you want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven? No. Were your protests overlooked? Of course. Did you sit down in the circle? Yes. Yes, you did. This was now your second time playing the game, and your opinion of it hadn’t changed at all. Being surrounded by drunk or high college kids instantly soured your mood, and you almost regretted agreeing to join Nobara.
A brunette girl, whom you recognized as the girl from yesterday, spun the bottle first, and the game commenced. What’s different about this house is that it has multiple closets, so the game progressed pretty quickly, with several couples being in their  respective closets at once.
When it came down to your turn, you spun the bottle, though, not without some hesitancy, at first.
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
The empty bottle went around the circle three times before it landed on . . . Sukuna? What the fuck? You hadn’t even noticed he was here. This happened last time, too. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this game? Is it cursed or something? God.
There was visible and audible shock amongst the crowd.
“Didn’t this happen at Naoya’s party?”
“Yeah, it did!”
“That’s crazy.”
-
“Look, I know this might not be the best situation to say this but—”
Despite your misgivings about doing so, you went in the closet with Sukuna anyway. And after locking the door behind him, Sukuna turned to you with a desperate look on his face.
Attempt no2:
“I’m giving you seven minutes, because that’s all the time we have in here anyway and also because I’m bored and curious as to what you think is a valid apology.”
“Okay, that’s—that’s enough for me. . . I know — that from the moment we met, it started off bad. Beyond bad. Horrible, even. But I want to make things right between us. Because, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And, I fucked things up. I followed through with Naoya’s bet when I was drunk and out of my mind. I should’ve ended it the next day but I didn’t; I wanted to prove to Naoya I could take you out. Because . . . I’ve liked you for a long time, probably since high school, even. And I know I never expressed that in a good way, but that’s only because I never realized it myself. So, seeing him just dangle the money in front of me, I just—I just thought of the money as a nice ‘incentive’ or something.”
“That’s a weird thing to think.”
“Yeah, I know. And I was stupid to think that that justified what I was doing. But, everything after our first phone call was real, I swear. Nothing we did together was fake or me just using you to get money. But, I won’t deny that that doesn’t change the fact I was an asshole—”
“You are an asshole.”
“Okay, that I will admit. Yes, I’m an asshole. But, I’m sorry. I’m a sorry asshole. Heh.”
“Did you just laugh at your own joke?”
“I—uh—” Sukuna took in a deep breath, “I know you could have as many me’s in your life, and hate them all the same. But I’ll only ever have one you. And that’s all I need. So please, I won’t ask for you to take me back; I don’t deserve that, but please, I just want you to hear me out. 
“You can punch me, kick me, block my number and delete it, but please, don’t ignore what I’m saying to you right now. Know that I’m sorry — though sorry doesn’t quite cut it, but please know. Know that I love you. Know that I’m completely devoted to you. Know that I will kiss the ground with which you walk upon. Know that I love you, for fuck’s sake, and will wait for you to accept that — you don’t have to love me too, just accept that I love you. Please, know.”
Sukuna’s voice was soft as he spoke with such earnestness you almost wanted to feel guilty. You knew what he did was unforgivable. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel as if you wanted to just forget all that had happened and go back to how things used to be between you two.
You would be a terrible liar to say you hadn’t missed Sukuna, and although he was a stupid asshole, his words proved he did nothing with ill intention. He agreed to the bet because that was the extra push he needed to be able to ask you out. He couldn’t have done it by himself, out of fear or anxiety or whatever. It was an impossible thought — the idea of Ryomen Sukuna being scared of rejection, but nobody was superhuman. Everyone has emotions.
Speaking of which, maybe it was an emotional choice to take a step forward. Maybe it was an illogical choice to finally meet Sukuna’s eyes since you two entered the closet. Maybe it was an impulsive choice to wrap your arms around him, bringing him into a tight hug, with your head resting on his chest. But, either way, you felt it was the right choice.
At first, Sukuna was tense, surprised at the sudden embrace. But, he remembered it was one he longed for, ever since that fateful night, and it didn’t take long for him to return the hug, wrapping his arms around your torso.
Through silent, unspoken words only the both of you shared and understood, you two basked in the moment of finally getting your love back. Sukuna had more words to say than he could speak. You had more feelings to share than you could show. The time you two spent apart was excruciatingly and regretfully (on your part) long.
On both sides there was an absence of something fundamental; whatever you two built while together was gone. But now? There’s not much to be said except for the light returning to those crimson eyes that you so loved.
It’s enigmatic; you don’t know what possessed you to speak up — your voice muffled due to burying your face in Sukuna’s chest. But you knew it was partially because of how long you spent bottling up your emotions: anger, sadness, regret, longing. All for one man, and one man only.
“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate your stupid brain, that managed to apologize whilst using math as metaphors. I hate your dumb smile, which still stuns me even after everything. I hate your annoying voice, which is the only thing I can fall asleep to. I hate your hair, which stands out in every crowd I enter to avoid you. 
“I hate your motorcycle, which even the rational part of my mind still imagines hearing the engine of. I hate your hands, which I undeniably long to feel in my hair. I hate your way of talking to me, which I can never get bored of, no matter how hard I try. I hate when you lie your way out of the littlest of things. I hate when you’re not around, and I have no one to tell me jokes that don’t even make sense. I hate that you think you can just win me over because you got me flowers knowing they have a specific meaning. 
“I hate that I hate you. I hate that I still love you.”
Hearing you sob your heart out while laying everything bare for him, Sukuna couldn’t help but place a kiss on your crown, burying his nose in your hair. After all, Sukuna had a feeling you were just listing parts of him you loved. But either way, he didn’t mind. This was simply the start of everything reverting back to normal, something both you and Sukuna longed for. And, —
In the end,
Sukuna didn’t want anything. He wanted everything. He wanted you. (you were his everything.)
𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒
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A/N: Thanks for all the love and support I’ve received on this series!!, it was definitely a pain to finish and every one of your comments and reblogs and likes definitely helped me get through writing this <3
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lordbrainsnatcherr @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura @xiraxdl @sterzin @catobsessedlady @alwaysfreakingout @uhnanix @ssetsuka @wrldtups @lovra974 @rzcnlb @piercddprincess @satoru2716 @bananaminn @tomiokasecretlover @bigraga-sk @villainsevilandhot @5seos
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starkowswife · 10 months
Text
R.C / HEADCANNONS
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pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
summary: what it would be like to date THE Rafe Cameron.
a/n: first ever written work so sorry if it isn’t great! please give me feedback of what i could do better in the future. also sarah and rafe are actually quite close in this.
warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, sorry if there’s errors. a bit of nsfw at the end. mentions of fighting and implied towards death but only for a little bit and not at all descriptive. let me know if there should be any others!
SFW:
- he would spoil you so much.
- he sees your shein wishlist? he’s buying it all.
- you grab a shirt to look at it when shopping with him? he’s grabbing it in your size and even checking for it in other colours.
- you could even so much as be glancing around a shop and your eyes linger a little too long on one item and he’s getting it for you.
- even when you tell him you feel bad having him spend this much money on you he’ll just laugh and say “my sweet girl deserves everything.”
- he’d drop everything for you if you needed him.
- you call him crying? he could be in the middle of an important deal and he’s leaving to come get you.
- he’d fight, and probably kill, for you.
- if a guys getting a little too close at a party and making you uncomfortable Rafe is there immediately.
- he’d pull the guy away from you and just start laying punches after punches into his face until someone just drags the other guy out of the party so it doesn’t get too out of hands.
- then he’d hug you and leave kisses on your forehead while asking if you wanna leave.
- you’d always be at his house.
- which means you’d see Wheezie a lot and she loves you and is always asking you to do things with her.
- it kind of annoys Rafe because he wants to spend every second with you and Wheezie’s ruining that.
- but he also finds it really sweet.
- you’d also be best friends with Sarah.
- as soon as her brother announced he actually is with someone and not just having flings with anyone and everyone she was so excited.
- Sarah knew you had to be amazing to make her brother settle down.
- and you and her got along instantly.
- he’d actually be very affectionate.
- always having his hands on you in one way or another.
- also because he’s very jealous he’d need everyone to know you’re his and his only.
- but he’d always reassure you, especially when overthinking.
- you’d catch him staring at you and you’d ask why, thinking maybe you have something on your face or you look bad but he’d just say, “can’t i look at my gorgeous girlfriend?”
- someone would make a comment about you two saying they’re surprised someone like you could pull someone like Rafe and he’d be furious.
- he’d deal with them and then immediately pick you up and you guys would be leaving.
- as soon as you two were alone he’d reassure you by saying something like “you’re perfect baby, they’re just jealous they don’t have what we have.”
NSFW:
- as mentioned earlier, he gets very jealous.
- and he gets jealous easily.
- so if he sees a guy checking you out while you’re in public he grabs you and puts his hands on your ass while making out with you so the boy knows your Rafe’s.
- he’d then take you home to remind you you’re his.
- or even just in the car if he really couldn’t wait.
- “you’re mine. you know that right?”
- “say it baby, say you’re only mine.”
- knowing damn well you couldn’t talk when he was thrusting into you like that.
- but you had to try anyway for him.
- he’d be big on hickeys.
- he’d like marking you so everyone knows, you are his, and he’d love when you do the same.
- if you still had your v card he’d make sure to be really nice and gentle the first few times and slowly start getting tougher and introducing you to new things.
- always down for a quickie, it doesn’t matter where you are.
- he’d seriously just love you unconditionally and everyone knows he’s whipped for you.
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mywritersmind · 27 days
Text
CAT PARENTS - LN
pt.1
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summary : A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.
warnings: just lando, olivia, and juna being cute!
word count : 1541
⋆ ˚‧。⋆
“Oh my god!” I practically scream when I see the cat on the side of the road.
“Oh shit!” Someone grabs the cat before I can even get close. I look up to see who just stole this beautiful creature from me and am a bit taken aback.
He’s not too tall, but quite cute. He's got curly hair that’s cut into a baby mullet and a gray t-shirt that shows off his arms that are holding the kitten.
He blinks at me, making me realize I've been staring for probably too long, “That’s my cat.” I say quickly.
“Oh?” Fuck, he’s got an accent.
“You’re british?” I may have had a few drinks tonight, considering we are on the side of the road in Miami, the cat and the accent are throwing me off.
“You got that from one word?” He looks at me, confused, “Did you really bring your cat to go out and party in Miami?”
“I- No…” I glance back to see my friends who are still in line at the club, “But it’s the cat distribution system!” He laughs at me. LAUGHS.
What the fuck?
The cat snatcher sits on the curb, the cat pushing against him to get away. I sit next to him and snatch the cat right back. “She’s so cute!” I squeal as it stays still in my arms, meowing.
“Tell me more about this… cat distribution system.” I explain how people keep finding cats and it’s meant for them. He’s easy to convince, a good listener as well.
“Right then. I have to bring her home.” He sighs as if it’s a big issue.
“What? You mean I have to bring her home?” I hold the kitten closer to my chest, her light and dark brown fur brushing against me.
He frowns, “I found her first.”
I scoff, “She clearly likes me more. And I saw her first, you just got there quicker.”
He shakes his head, “Love, I still picked her up first.”
I furrow my brows, “Well, Love, You’re a random man and Juna and I don’t know you.” the kitten meows as if she agrees.
“Juna!? You can’t have already named her!”
“Ever heard of Clairo?”
“Okay- I’m Bob. What's your name?” He holds out his hand. I don’t take it.
“Bob?” I let out a laugh, “If you think I believe that, or would let you take Juna with that name, you’re on something.”
There’s something about the small smile he pulls that makes me feel weird and warm. He runs his hand through his hair, his ring catching the light, “My name is Lando.”
“Okay, Lando.” I roll my eyes, “Odd name but better than Bob. Why did you lie?”
His face scrunches up, “You honestly don’t know who I am?”
“Clearly not. If you’re that arrogant then I bet you’re not even known.” He smiles at this and stands up, offering me his hand.
I take it, standing and pulling down my black mini skirt as I do so. “She looks hungry.” My stomach growls at the exact time he says that. “So do you.”
I don’t know what to do. I’m staying with my friend this weekend and she is allergic to cats. I have no car and definitely not enough money to go buy things for a kitten. “Let’s go then.
I register that he’s speaking to me, “Excuse me?”
“If you won’t let me take her then we’ll have to go together.”
His words are what landed me in a pet store twenty minutes later.
I assured my friends that I would be okay and Lando made his friends prove he’s not some freak. His friends met mine and showed his instagram which made them agree way too quickly. He didn’t let me see it.
I gathered that he must be pretty famous or at least rich considering the McLaren we got into could not have been cheap. I saw him cringe when Juna had an accident in the front seat, yet he stayed quiet.
We’ve got Juna in a huge bed in the cart; food, treats, and toys surrounding her. “You never told me your name.” Lando pushes the cart down an abandoned isle, rightfully so since it is five minutes until closing.
We’ve been so busy that I honestly forgot I don’t actually know Lando.“Olivia.” I give in, “Liv, to my friends.”
“Alright Liv, are you from here?”
“Woah- we are not at friend status.” I shake my head, crossing my arms and shivering. I am still in platform boots, a mini skirt, and tube top. The few people working are shooting me dirty looks.
“Come on…” He frowns, leaning against the cart.
“Tell me your deal, then maybe I'll let you.”
“A fact for a nickname? I’m down.” He places the items, minus Juna, on the register. I explain my money situation but he doesn’t even think twice before he swipes his card. After we’re all back in the car he turns to me.
“I’m a driver.” He starts the car.
“Like a limo driver? Lando, you're not very good at this game.” Juna sleeps in my lap after she devoured a can of food and some water.
“A formula one driver…” He pulls out of the parking lot.
I know nothing about the sport except that it’s loved by my father and rich european people. “I don’t believe you.”
He eyes me and hands me my own phone that he’s carrying, “Lando Norris.” He says his last name.
“Quite the name you’ve got. Meant for fame, I fear.” He tries to hide his smile but he’s shit at it. I bite my lip and put my phone down, “I don’t want to look you up.”
“Why?”
“I want to learn about you, from you.” I shrug.
“Alright Liv…” He grins as he uses my nickname, “What do you do?”
I sigh and lean back in my seat, “I work in movies.”
“Really?”
I nod, “Yup. Mostly set design and some background stuff but one day I want to produce my own.” He listens intently, “So Lando… Why did you become an F1 driver?”
We go back and forth like this for thirty minutes until he pulls up to his hotel.
“Oh…” I look up at the fancy building, “You really want to bring a cat up there?”
He doesn’t say anything, just hands off his keys to the valet and grabs all the bags, leaving me with Juna. I’m amazed at everything we see, even the elevator is fancy with a big mirror that reminds me to wipe my under eyes that have mascara on them.
We walk to his room and as he opens the door for me my jaw drops, “Fuck, Norris.” I look around the huge room. It’s got a king sized bed, a bathroom with a tub and a shower, a couch, a huge TV, and the most beautiful view of the ocean.
“I won my first race here. Get a bit of special treatment.” he says like it’s the most casual thing ever.
He shuts the door and dumps everything onto the floor. We end up making a little space for Juna since we’re convinced we will lose her in this room.
Lando is in the bathroom when I text my friends about my night. They ask if he’s kissed me yet and I blush to myself, quickly explaining that it’s not that kind of night.
I’m laying on the floor, next to Juna when Lando walks back in, wearing only sweats. My eyes catch on his tanned and very fit body. “Forgot my jumper…” He says awkwardly, throwing on a blue dior hoodie as I look away and pretend to not have checked him out.
He lays on his stomach, petting the kitten's head and not meeting my eyes as he says, “If you wanna change, You could borrow some of my stuff.” I think I'm going to melt right there.
I check the time, “No… I really should go.” I sit up and he does with me.
“What?” he looks almost… sad? “You can’t leave Juna though.
“I know… But you can deal with a kitten alone.” I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave.
I don’t want to leave Juna.
I don’t want to leave Lando.
“Can I?” He raises a brow, “If you really want to go that’s fine. But… It’s late. And an Uber would be expensive. And it’s no trouble! Really you can take the bed.”
“Ok.” I say a bit too quick. His smile makes my heart skip a beat. Shit. Friends, Liv! Friends! Remember!? His adorable face and hilarious personality just comes as a bonus. “But you don’t have to sleep on the floor.” I laugh, “You can take the couch with Juna.”
He smiles and shakes his head, throwing a menu to me, “Order whatever, I can hear your stomach growling.”
-
note :
i love this story sm!! pt.2 coming soon!
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