#I have been typing for an eternity n' a half...

[sleepyangelkami]

Hi, I was thinking Vi x Reader. Where Reader is half human and half vampire and she hasn’t drink blood in weeks now and she is crazy starving. When Vi came back home from work she didn’t see her girlfriend in the living room but found her in their shared room facing back to her. Vi slowly walk to her but Reader flinched and not turning towards her. Reader explained why she is not turning towards her but Vi wants her to drink blood from her but Reader refuse because she might think that she will hurt Vi. Vi told her it is okay and Reader made a decision by letting her drink blood from Vi.

BOTTOMS UP .vi

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.5K

VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - vampire!reader hasn't been able to drink blood in what felt like forever. luckily for her, vi's there with open arms and an outstretched wrist. in fear of hurting her, you decline the offer but you and her both know you won't be able to refuse her much longer.

 ☆ WARNINGS - blood, vampire themes, def inaccurate description of vampires, petnames, use of y/n, use of good girl, thumb sucking?, sorta suggestive, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

your throat was dry and your head was pounding. you lay curled up in your bed, the blinds shut and your hands pressed against your face. you tried to shut everything out, block out the loud yells in your head. you were hungry, so very hungry.

but you were also sure that your girlfriend would be home soon.

piltover had put up the walls between zaun and piltover but jayce assured you that the walls wouldn't last long after seeing the worry written across your face. why? he wasn't sure. then again, neither did he deem it his business to ask. but with the walls being up between zaun and piltover, you had no way of getting into the woods. the place you went to when you were hungry.

you were a vampire, yes, had been for many years now, would be for the rest of eternity.

but you didn't feed on humans, no, you wouldn't even dream of it. despite your monster-like qualities, you vowed to be nothing like a monster. you didn't want to be the type of tale that scared kids, the type that their older siblings read before bed, just trying to get them riled up. you fed from animals, in the woods where no one would see you. and only one knew of your secret.

the same girl that was opening your front door.

"hey, cupcake." vi was walking through the door, tiredness evident in her voice. she found herself in your guys' shared bedroom as quick as lightning. ever since you'd moved out from your parents house, everything seemed so much smaller but with vi by your side, the world seemed to be filled with endless opportunities.

you didn't respond, but vi wasn't too concerned yet.

the curtains had been drawn, only she assumed that was due to the fact it was currently night and not the fact that your brain was in scrambles from when the sunlight was peeking through. she'd been working for a while now, helping out some kiramman girl with something she needed help on. she needed insight on the very city of zaun, the one vi had grown up in her entire life. so naturally, she didn't mind helping the girl. the one thing she didn't like? leaving you for so long.

you felt outstretched arms wrap around your torso, her head falling into your shoulder. only now, had you realised she'd been talking the past five minutes. "y'listening?" and your silence served as an answer enough. "hey, what's wrong, baby? you're being quiet." when she turned you around she could see your tear-stained under eyes and your pale complexion. "hey, what's wrong?"

you could see the worry coating her eyes and it made you impossible more guilty. "doesn't matter." but she could see by the under eye bags and your teased hair that it did matter.

"you're shaking." she commented, taking you into her arms with worry. at first, she would have assumed that you were sick. her hand placed itself on your forehead, feeling for any temperature. you were merely cold. "oh, is this a... you know, vamp thing?" you suddenly felt very embarrassed. "hey, hey, i'm not judging, you know that." her hands soothed down your arms, sitting up and pulling you with her. "i jus' wanna know what's wrong so i can help you."

"y'can't help." you spoke, looking away and not reaching her eyes.

but she wasn't having any of that. her fingers drew your chin back to her. "we don't know that until we try." she attempted at coaxing you. "jus' tell me wh's the matter?"

"the walls." your mumble caused her ears to perk under her bubblegum hair. "can't go into the woods."

"oh, baby." she frowned suddenly, realising she hadn't thought of that at all. "I was so wrapped up in working with caitlyn, i completely forgot."

but before you could even assure her that it was okay, your hands were pushing at her. "v-vi." trying to get away. with confused eyes, her hands followed you, pressing against your upper arms. "vi, please don't touch me." suddenly feeling tears spring in your eyes.

the girls brows were pinched together. "why not?" before contorting to a look that told you she understood what you had meant now. "oh."

"vi, please." but she didn't let go. you didn't want to loose control, but you were starving. you needed to eat before you ended up killing yourself but for the first time in all of your life, you'd truly been tempted. you'd been tempted to feed off a human but that wasn't you, you wouldn't hurt somebody. you wouldn't kill somebody. but with the hunger that you felt then, you were sure that if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop.

vi's hands were on you, her eyes searching yours even as you tried to back away. but vi was keen, she didn't let you move. her hands held an iron grip on you, sapphire eyes boring into your own. "feed off me."

your eyes went wide as saucers, whipping your head towards her so fast you were sure you'd gotten whiplash. "what?" is the only word that fell from your lips, your brows now pinched together and your hands shaking impossibly more. what she was asking you to do, it wasn't just dangerous, it was suicidal.

but her hands didn't stop soothing up and down your arms, she didn't even seem afraid of you. she should be, she really should be. even you were afraid of yourself. "you're in pain." she noted by the way your face had contorted from the minute she stepped into the room. with her being here, it would only be harder to control your urges and she didn't want you to have to do that. "let me help you, sweet girl."

but you didn't feel anything alike 'sweet' in that given moment. you glanced up at her, doey eyes coated with a glossy cover of tears. "vi, 'm really hungry." a whole whimper falling from your lips. "i can't―I wouldn't be able to stop― I don' wanna hurt you." but god, were you tempted.

"hey." her fingers brushing up and down your arms so gently. "everythings gonna be okay, cupcake, y'just gotta let go, 'kay?" she was reaching her arm up towards you, your eyes impossibly wide. "jus' let go for me, angel."

but you couldn't. you wouldn't. but her wrist lay in front of you, pumping. and you suddenly felt dizzy. "vi." you whimpered, the first tear falling down your doll-like cheek.

"'s okay." she cooed, soothing you. "'s okay just let me help you." she watched as your gaze turned back to her wrist, head feeling all floaty like and your eyes a little hazy. "jus' wanna help you." but even she was beginning to feel light headed, and you hadn't even began. sure, she wanted to help you and she'd do that a thousand times over, only a tiny feeling at the bottom of her stomach was laced with fear. then she remembered who was standing in front of her. her sweet and lovely y/n, you'd do no wrong, you wouldn't hurt her. even if you fed from her. "bottoms up." she mumbled.

she watched as your face contorted lightly, almost in pain as your mouth opened, fangs seeping out from your teeth. you whimpered gently as vi guided her wrist towards your mouth. hesitantly, you looked at her to which she nodded. in your starvation? more than enough for you. you gently sunk your teeth into her skin.

vi inhaled, squeezing in a breath as a light pain trickled around her body. but she didn't scream or yell about. that was the thing about vi, pain tolerance like no other. her free hand came down to your head, pressing against the crown of your hair. "that's a good girl." she spoke, gently stroking your hair. "see? you're okay."

but your mind wasn't focusing on her words, they were merely entering one ear and getting tossed out the next. your teeth were impaled in her skin, the blood filling your mouth. your eyes shut, a little noise of relief leaving your lips. your hands moved to press her wrist closer against your mouth. it tasted so good.

almost instantly, you felt the colour return to your face, the eye bags wash away as relief pumped through your veins.

you never drank human blood but this wasn't just any human, it was vi. and it tasted better than any animal you'd ever seen, you were sure it'd taste better than any human, too.

you could have drank the blood until her body run dry. but you couldn't. in fear of hurting her, you took your mouth away from her wrist, pulling away as your eyes flickered back up to hers, checking for any sign of regret.

you were blinking harshly, trying to let the blood set in after not drinking in weeks. while your body was swaying gently, vi was still ever so still. her eyes were a little hazy as her lips curved upwards. her thumb came down to meet your mouth, gently smearing the blood that had been on it around your bottom lip. she tapped your cheek causing you to part your mouth. instantly, she stuck her blood-covered thumb between your lips.

you whimpered softly against the skin, your eyes fluttering shut. "'s a good girl." she mumbled. "so good."

main masterlist/vi's masterlist

[thatsdemko]

without you there’s nothing to live for - l.norris

masterlist

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: jealousy + insecurities + fluff + build up(kinda long I’m sorry about that) + some errors here or there

a/n: while I had bits and pieces of this work in millions of other lando drafts I think I have to give credit where it’s due to @userlando and her anons ☺️🫶 I’m in such a shit mood so i figured posting this might make me feel better. enjoy xx

Lando Norris was annoying. a childhood friend of yours that somehow stuck throughout the years and never seemed to vanish. he was like a a piece of gum stuck to your shoe, he just never left.

and while you’re thankful he’s the longest lasting friendship you have; did you fail to mention he could be annoying?

his hands drum against the kitchen island, a distraction worthy of you flicking your pencil in his direction, but he’s too quick the pencil would just end up behind him, so you result in throwing him a very pointed look that shuts him up.

“is that pencil up your ass too today?”

you give him another look before staring down at the empty grocery list you failed to create, because lando has claimed your flat as his flat. the lavish lifestyle penthouse was abandoned at the instant call of your arrival to Monaco, and now all of his expensive taste clutters your space.

“did you put eggs on the list? I need eggs. it’s good protein—“ he shuts up to the sound of you breaking the pencil in half, another annoyed look tossed his way.

lando could be a lot. but there was no one who could keep up with you. there was no one like him in your corner, and while he pushed your buttons you were eternally grateful for his loyalty despite your rather jaded friendship.

“let’s just go to the store? I’ll drive.” he says like there’s another alternative to the store. ever since he got his license and moved in, you’ve never even put your foot on the accelerator. you’ve almost forgot the thrilling feeling of driving.

“eggs have been added to the list.” you finally say, typing up your notes of a grocery list once you were finally able to think straight without lando tapping away or chatting your ear off.

god was he annoying, but you loved him for him.

—

his wallet funds are bigger than what you have. you feel guilty every time he buys, but it’s not like you have the funds to do so. he knows that guilty look across your face when he ends up paying for 10% groceries and 90% female hygiene products. he doesn’t mind, just shoves his card in the machine and says a thank you for the person who bags your things.

“you have to let me pay you back—“

“no, nonsense.” he cuts you off, the conversation goes like it always does. you beg, and beg, to try and wiggle in a payback, but he refuses. all those years of your parents giving him shelter, taking him to races, or letting him play in your backyard it’s the least he could do.

“but the price adds up, and you’re paying for most of the rent—“

“I won’t have this conversation with you. just get in the car.” he says it without letting you have another word in. it’s his turn to shoot you down with pointed looks every time you try to mention money.

“y/n?! is that you?”

lando’s heart nearly drops to his stomach at the sound of that voice—that voice, being your ex boyfriend. he came out of nowhere, like the stalker he is, and finds himself walking around lando’s spiffy mclaren with wide eyes and confusion at your presence with the formula one driver. he must’ve forgotten lando was your best friend.

“you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend?”

before you can protest lando shakes his hand. you can tell by the grip lando has on him it’s a firm hard handshake. one to prove a point about the 2 a.m calls of you crying to your best friend from across the world. he was a shitty man, and maybe showing lando off like that would put him in his place.

“this is lando, you guys met awhile back.” you say.

you watch the two of their eyes glimmer in the sunlight with hatred for one another. lando was the guy you told him not to worry about— and he still was— and he was the guy lando was desperately wanting to kick ass.

“don’t remember that.”

“I actually remember, didn��t you spend half the night snogging another girl?” lando’s gentle reminder makes your ex’s face flush pale. you watch a little smile lift to lando’s lips before you both excuse yourselves to head home.

“my new boyfriend is so cool.” you say in a sarcastic tone once it’s just the two of you in his car.

lando let’s out laugh, and just puts the car in reverse. the simple act makes your head spin. his hand reaching behind the head of your seat, the way his eyes quickly glance on you before he looks back to ensure no one is coming. these thoughts were never present until this run in. would lando be a good boyfriend?

you can’t help but explore those thoughts in the twenty minute car ride home in pure silence.

your mind wanders to the idea of waking up to him in your bed. his legs tangled with yours, lazy soft kisses pressed your cheeks. you could melt at just the thought of it.

or maybe he’d make you eggs. you’d wake to the smell of bacon grease and him shirtless—like he always is in the kitchen— creating a masterpiece meal that you devour in minutes.

what switch has suddenly changed in you? because now when you look at lando, your heart does things it never did before. your head spins of ideas of him as your boyfriend and it’s so sickening you could throw up.

“I’m going to unload the groceries, you’re more than welcome to sit and stare into space for as much as you need.” his words spook you. a little yelp escaped your lips that he’d caught you. your eyes bug wide—like they always are when you get into your daydreams— and mind so full you lose track of time and often forget your surroundings. you had no clue you’d been sitting in the driveway this whole time.

“where do you want the tampons again? I seem to forget.”

“under the bathroom sink please.”

you wonder if you can shove your thoughts under there too. a nap is needed to clear your mind of whatever seems to be boggling it all about lando.

—

a nap certainly did help, however, waking up to lando shirtless in your bed also napping? yeah, all that hard work of suppressed thoughts came right back.

you think about taking your finger and running it all over the divots, curves, and muscles of his body. you think about how much stronger he’s been looking lately and how the little hair on his chin is growing onto you. what is going on with you?

it was common for lando to come in your room and sleep with you. nightmares were rare for you, but they happened more often than you expected and lando always wanted to be there for it. but this was just a nap? why did he have to come in and sleep with you? he could’ve just slept in his own bed, that certainly would’ve helped your heart if he did.

you roll out of bed and tip toe around your bed, until your heart makes you stop. you stare at his peaceful state. the way his curls fall over his forehead, the thick long lashes you desperately want, the soft smile on his lips— his eyes are opening, shit, you think to yourself.

you quickly book it out of the room to save yourself from the embarrassment of him catching you watching him sleep. what a creep you were becoming in the matter of hours. this is why you shouldn’t like your best friend. hell, this is why you shouldn’t let your man best friend live with you. it was destined for one of you to fall in love.

but it was also destined for you to most likely get your heart broken.

lando doesn’t date women like you. you’ve seen his roster of women rotating in and out of your place, none of them looked like you: an average woman with average looks. who’d want that?

a little part of hope lingers in your chest when you see him enter the kitchen. his lips press against your temple as he mumbles a good morning.

“how was your nap?”

“not long enough.” you admit watching him type away on his phone. his elbows are pressed against the granite counter tops, his fingers work vigorously against the screen. a little smile appears on his lips that make you nauseous. it could just be max, but it could be another girl.

almost two hours ago this wouldn’t of mattered to you. you wouldn’t of cared if lando invited a girl over and you stayed locked up in your room, but now all of a sudden it’s bothersome.

“what’s got you all smiley?” you ask, partially out of curiosity but partially to just kill your heart with his response. he sets his phone face down on the counter resting his chin in the palm of his hand, “max is coming over, and so is pietra.”

“exciting.” you grin, though the words disagree with your expression making his face drop with worry.

“are you worried max is going to take your best friend spot? he could never, y/n.”

best friend. yeah, that’s all you’ll ever be when girls like ria and pietra exist. deadly beauty that could put a man in his place. when was yours ever going to show up?

—

you’re tipsy off the expensive bottle of wine max brought. your body is pressed against lando’s for support as you all laugh about something max said. you can’t help but wrap your arms around his strong bicep, resting your head against his shoulder listening to pietra expose Max’s recent mess up.

lando doesn’t take notice in the way you’re seated. he knows you’re beside him based off the heat that radiates off your body. you always got overly warm when drunk, and sometimes a bit too affectionate, but he didn’t mind. he actually loved it when you wanted to be beside him.

“so when did this happen?” pietra points her finger between you two, a bright smile pressed against her lips as she cozies herself up to her own boyfriend.

lando clears his throat. he practically yanks his arm out of your grip leaving you to fall back against the cushions beside him. you hide your face into his back out of embarrassment suddenly becoming aware of how you two look. “oh umm—“

“oh gosh! I’m so sorry. I think it’s the wine talking in me.” she quickly apologizes, a blush filters her face similar to yours.

“it’s not the first time today that’s happened.”

“do tell,” max sits on the edge of his seat listening to lando explain the run in, your face is still pressed into his back. you’re hoping that maybe if you just stay there you would disappear into thin air or end up in your bedroom sound asleep away from all of this.

“I still want to kick that guys ass—“

“wait,” pietra cuts off max, her voice demands all the attention in the room. you pry your head from out of lando and peer behind him at her, “you didn’t even tell him you are just friends? you let him assume that you’re dating?”

lando’s mouth opens and closes. nothing seems to come out making max throw his head back in a laughing fit, “oh god! I owe ria money for this, you like y/n!”

Lando’s face is flushed red, a similar color to the glass of wine in his hands. there was nothing he could say. he couldn’t even protest it when it was true. he hadn’t even realized he never corrected your ex boyfriend, because truth be told, he wanted to be shown off as your boyfriend.

“come on pietra, let’s leave these two alone.”

they leave as quick as they came, leaving only the half full bottle of wine for yourselves. you both sit in silence, no one musters up the courage to speak.

you both get ready for bed like nothing happened. the awkward silence eats you up. you want to speak up and tell him you feel the same, you want things to go back to normal. you just want annoying lando back.

when you finally finish your nighttime regiment, you’re ready for bed. you turn the corner into your bedroom and see the silhouette of lando reflecting against the wall. your night light was on, and he was laying in your bed, cozied up under the covers.

“sleeping in here tonight?” you ask slipping under the covers beside him, he moves himself closer to you occupying the middle of the bed.

“you don’t mind, do you?”

you shake your head curling your body against his, “I like it when you sleep with me.” you say making a sense of pride soar through his chest. he likes the way your body molds against his.

“your new boyfriend will protect you.” he smiles down at you, carefully place a kiss to your forehead before reaching over and turning off your lamp.

“thank goodness he’s here, I can’t sleep without him.”

“you know I’m talking about myself right?” he lifts his neck up, face looking down at you, your eyes closed practically half asleep already.

“goodnight, boyfriend.”

“goodnight, girlfriend.”

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Casual intimacy

a/n Cracks knuckles… let’s go… 🙃 I loved writing this so I hope you will enjoyed reading it. Cause this one cracked something deep within me. 🫧🤭

request: Hiii! I absolutely love your work I think you're so talented. If you have time can I request an angsty Ruhn x Reader, maybe he gets jealous or something because she has such a bubbly personality and guys flock to her?

warning: a bit suggestive here and there, alcohol, drugs, smoking.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ruhn was tired. Playing pretend always drained him. For the most part, he bit back at his father, but even there were limits. And when his father wasn’t at the center of his headaches, the fact that he was a crowned prince was. Ruhn flicked the cigarette out of the open car window as he waited for the light to turn green. “Be on the bed when I get back," he typed out quickly. A slight smile tugged at his lips.

Ruhn imagined that crimson haze creeping onto your cheeks. You had been an angel when you two first met. More like a caged bird. And while the world saw him as a devil who made a good girl go bad, in reality, he had freed you from the chains that had bound you to the dark cell for eternity. And if everyone was having a fright at the sight of a cigarette or a shot glass in your hand, they could all go fuck themselves.

A ding had Ruhn glancing at the screen in his car. "Unfortunately, I won’t be able to oblige," the message read, and Ruhn frowned. He blinked a couple of times. It was usually “you’re an idiot” or a nice picture that sent him pressing his foot just a bit more on the gas. What was the reason for this? Did you get your period? But that wasn’t very likely. Ruhn could sense when the red flow was coming. And you weren’t talking about cramps. He was about to fire out a quick “because?” when another ding sounded. And a picture appeared on the dash. A growl ripped through him. Here you stood. An innocent smile, still in the dress Ruhn had watched you put on this morning. By your side stood Flynn, who looked like a lost dog, glancing at the half-made sandwich on the counter. No, this wasn’t happening. Not tonight.

Ruhn quickly dialed your phone, gripping the steering wheel tightly. You didn’t even get a chance to breathe on the other side as he huffed, “What the fuck?” The music was almost deafening. So was the sea of voices. That scraped like a nail against his mind. “Hey, hotshot, this wasn’t my idea," you chirped, and as much as Ruhn was frustrated, the sound of your voice alone made his shoulders ease. “Tell them to fuck off," he hissed. He should have moved out long ago. Gotten you two an apartment and called it a day. “I can’t do that; I don’t live here." You chuckled softly, giggling at something Flynn said. Ruhn frowned. “You are my girlfriend; you are entitled to do what you want there," he pointed out. You had refused the title. Refused any benefits dating someone like him brought. The doors it opened. It was one of many reasons Ruhn loved you. Because for the very first time, he felt more than his title. More than just a pawn in someone’s game.

"Ruhn, I am not ordering two grown men around," you said, and while Ruhn didn’t agree, he didn’t get to voice his opinion because his words got overshadowed by someone calling for you. “Oh yeah, you can find that upstairs," you said, Ruhn could hear the smile on your face. "Babe," he called out, not loving the idea that someone had managed to steal your attention from him. “Oh, no, it’s okay. Call if you need anything." From the way your voice sounded, he could also tell that you had the phone away from your ear, so he used other methods. Trusted kind.

Y/n. He spoke within your linked hearts. Feeling the fluster in your heart at his call. But his hope got crushed as soon as it bloomed. Give me a moment, Ruhn. Ruhn not even a hotshot, not a babe. Ruhn gritted his jaw. “No, liquor is on the right shelf," you said, as he listened to you try to get through the crowd of people. “Get your legs off the counter, you freak," you hissed, followed by the sound of a chair being dragged back. "Yeah, sorry, the house is full," you muttered slightly under your breath, and suddenly he was back to hating that party. Because you had woken before the sun had even been up. Studies and work keep you busy. Even if Ruhn had told you many times that you didn’t have to work,

“I am sending them to Urd and then fucking back," he grunted, making you let out a chuckle. The sound of it still made his stomach warm. “Light up, they brought shit to smoke," you sighed, and while he enjoyed a good smoke, especially if you joined him, and even more so if you both rode the aftermath together, he just didn’t want that today. “I don’t...", Ruhn had started when a loud bag came from somewhere in the house, and the place erupted in gassing shouts and angry grunting. “Fuck, got to go," you breathed. "Drive, save, baby," you muttered. “Y/N, don’t go near...”, but the line went dead. "Fuck," the princeling hissed. Oh, he was going to hang both Dec and Flynn by their balls, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

You were nowhere to be seen when he stepped into the madness of the house. Ruhn felt you, so that had to be good enough for now. You were in the house. The question, however, was where exactly that was. "Man, this is sick." Some guy clasped a hand over Ruhn’s shoulder, making the crowned prince bat the touch away stiffly. “Yeah, dude, you’re dope!" the other shouted, his eyes red as fire. There was too much substance in his body. Ruhn frowned, trying not to show the disgust on his face. “Get your shoes off my fucking carpet," he hissed in dismissal, walking past them. His frustration only grew the more he looked around for you. If not for the music, he would reach out through the bond once again. But his head was pounding, and he knew there was no way for him to concentrate enough.

Then Ruhn’s eyes fell on a small group forming near the kitchen. It wasn’t usual. If people did drugs or mixed drinks, they usually went in groups of two. Not a whole fucking sea of them. An itch inside him flared up, and he didn’t even realize it when he started walking towards it.

“So how did you do it?”, a lazy voice asked as Ruhn approached. “I just painted, silly," and that was all it took for his body to ignite. No one even matched the power your light voice had on his body. “Yeah, but that’s one big canvas," another voice slurred. Ruhn licked his lips as he stepped through the arc, and the sight was far from what he had hoped for. There you stood, a white angel in a sea of hacks. Pouncing on you for a nibble.

“I didn’t sleep, I mean," Ruhn watched as a blush on your cheeks. “Colors just guided me. It sounds insane, I know, and no, I was not high," you said sheepishly, making everyone in the room chuckle. But Ruhn saw it. The way they looked at you. They didn’t care about this. Didn’t care about your passion. Didn’t care about the spark in your eyes as you spoke of the things you loved. You were a spectacle. A pretty thing to look at. But it’s when one of them reached out to tuck the hair that had slipped out of your silk bow that Ruhn stepped forward, yanking one of the guys by the back of the shirt as he shouldered past them.

He only managed to catch a glimpse of you inhaling before his hand wrapped around your neck as he pulled you closer to him. Crashing his lips against your red-painted ones. You melted against him. He cared little for anything else as he bent slightly to grab at your thighs, lifting you and guiding you onto the counter as he spread your legs, stepping in between them. Before his fingers found your hips, he pulled you against him. "Ruhn." Your voice was breathy and weak as you wrapped your legs tighter around his middle. “Want to moan that louder?”, he teased, his lips hovering over your neck as he pinched your bum, making you squeal. “I leave you for a day and come to find you in a sea of men," Ruhn hissed with a shake of his head. You knew that it wasn’t anger. It was more lust and that sparkle of possessiveness.

“Jealous much?”, you purred, smirking as you ran your fingers over his jaw. “Don’t play with me, woman," he muttered, his hand once again wrapping around your throat as he inched closer. "Oh," you coo, “I forgot that you’re just a baby." You sighed, cupping his cheeks, but that was short-lived. One moment you were still on the counter, the other in the air and over your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Ruhn Danaan, put me down." You wiggled in his hands. Tried to hit his chest but for nothing. If anything, that only earned you a slap on your bum and another gasp as your cheeks flared to life with red. “You...", you hissed out, but Ruhn only settled his hand on your ass, keeping the dress over your exposed bottom. Not too keen on others getting a glimpse at what lay underneath. “Don’t finish that unless you want me to spank you again," he mussed, smug as a cat as he moved through the crowd of people.

Whistling met you right by the stairs. One that Ruhn recognized, considering that he stopped. “You two are in deep shit," the crowned prince hissed, throwing a glance at his two best friends. But all they did was laugh. “Fuck it out of him, Yn, please," Dec mussed, grinding his hips in the air. “Suck one-off for the team," Flynn saluted as you three burst into laughter. It appeared that only Ruhn didn’t find that appealing. And something told you that if you weren’t over his shoulder now, friend or not, they might just taste the back of Ruhn’s hand. But he only cursed under his breath. “I will leave you two dickless," he threatened, reaching for the railing as the two man-children moaned and growled downstairs.

Ruhn was breathing heavily when he finally closed the door of his bedroom. It wasn’t from your weight. It just all started to cave in on him as he lowered you to the ground. You nibbled against his neck, pulling away to reach for the hem of your dress, but Ruhn caught your wrist, guiding you closer to him. "No," he muttered. A slight shake of his head told you that he was dead serious, too. “Did you just say no to...", You had started in a teasing tone, but there was something in his eyes that made you stop. "Ruhn," you called out way softer now, brushing your fingers up and down his arms. “Come here, darling," you said, wrapping your arms around him. He wasn’t fully open and vulnerable often. And when he was. That meant that whatever you two were doing, you were the ones who would have to carry the heavy load. Just for a bit. until he finds his footing again.

“If this is about the males, I didn’t even for a second…," you muttered against his chest, but Ruhn only grunted, “I know you weren’t interested. It’s just…” he took a deep breath, “a long day." You knew how much more those three words implied. How much more complex it was. But you also knew that the last thing he needed was you trying to drag it all out of him. “Why don’t you lay down?”, you asked softly, brushing your fingers over his lower back.

“I’m okay here," he said quietly. The hold on your body didn’t ease. “Come on, we’ll lay naked; I’ll roll you a blunt," you poked at his chest, shooting him a loving smile as you wiggled your eyebrows. Ruhn let out a slight chuckle as he reached for the buttons on his shirt. You helped him drag the material off his body, kneeling to undo his shoes. Ruhn caught your chin, pulling your head up so you would look at him through your lashes. "Fuck, it never gets old," he grunted, brushing his finger over your slightly smudged red lip. You only grinned up at him, leaning in to kiss his thigh as you pushed his pants off him all the way.

Ruhn watched you in a daze before you pushed at his chest, sending him sprawled out on the mattress. He drank every movement you made. You reaching for a bag of mirth-root, licking the edge of the paper as you finish the roll. Lighting it up and taking the first hit before handing it to Ruhn. He watched the cloud of smoke flaring around you as you reached for your dress, pulling it over your head. He could very easily die here right now. And go to Urd as a happy man if the last sight he saw was you in nothing but a black thong.

It was this exact casual intimacy that had him running at first. He was frightened to feel secure with someone like that. To have someone trust him like that. Ruhn reached out, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you over onto him. A blunt burning between his teeth. You straddled his naked body with ease. The movement was second nature by now. “What do you need?”, you asked softly, brushing some of the hair away from his face. Ruhn found himself opening his mouth but shutting it closed once more. He didn’t know. He was only aware that he needed you but was not sure how. Bent over the counter? Seated on his face? Snuggled up against him? With you holding him instead? “That’s okay, we will figure it out." You leaned in and pressed a kiss on his chest, leaving feather-like brushes over his exposed skin. “You’ll tell me when you’ll know," you breathed, pulling back up to look into his purple eyes. He didn’t answer, wrapping an arm around your back as he pulled you closer to him. Skin to skin. There was nothing between you two. You rested your face on the crook of his neck, feeling him take another drag of the cigarette in silence. His silence. One that you threaded for him. Painted it. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Ruhn realized that there was no other sound around him, just a steady beat of your heart.

[qatarsprint2023]

Hi can I request a lando x f!reader when she’s really sick and how lando takes care of her, like A. fluffy and comforting fic. I just found ur acc and I’m so excited for ur upcoming writings!!!!

~🎀

Thank you sm! Hope you enjoy this one, 🎀<3

Sick days and Race weekends— LN4

Lando discovers that his girlfriend got sick while he was away for a race and didn't want to worry him. — Lando Norris x f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader has a bad case of the flu, no use of y/n word count: ca. 1.2k

Ever since you were a kid you'd never been the type of person to get actually sick. Sure, a little cough and runny nose maybe, but nothing ever really drastic. Personally, you were pretty sure your immune system was simply a wonderful combination of good genes and growing up in the countryside.

Your parents had always told you that the fresh air and spending a lot of time outdoors with some exposure to animals had probably played some part in your never being sick as well and developed your immune system in a way people who grew up in urban areas would never have.

But when you moved to London for uni a little later in life, a huge city with tons of traffic, pollution and surprisingly little greenery, you found yourself getting sick more often than when you lived on your parent's farm surrounded by green grass, fields that stretched for miles and lots of animals. However this time you got sick. Runny nose, aching joints, pounding headache, hacking cough, fever that came and went as it pleased... The whole flu package, really.

You'd already started feeling a little off before Lando left for Austin on Wednesday and it had gradually gotten a little worse each day, but by Friday it all just hit like a wrecking ball. But you being you, decided not to say anything much about it and tell your boyfriend it was just a common cold you were dealing with back home.

He'd done so well in Qualifying on Friday and he should really be concentrating on his upcoming race and not his girlfriend's inane complaints from halfway across the globe. You didn't like worrying people. It didn't feel right plaguing someone else with your problems when surely you could somehow find a way to work it out yourself anyway.

But now it was Monday morning and you had curled up on the couch under the heaviest blanket you could find with a half empty tissue box and a giant mug of tea on the coffee table beside you a few hours ago already. You were cold and shivering like leaves in the wind on an icey autumn day like today, even with your hot drink and the warm blanket thrown across your body.

You couldn't have been more miserable. You felt like you were dying. You couldn't go to work, or leave the house because you simply felt awful and weak. So, you decided to just lay down on the couch and wait for Lando to get home.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting for the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock, you perked up a little at the sound coming from the door across the room. Lando stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a soft sigh slipping past his lips, not noticing you.

"Hey... P2!" you croaked weakly and forced a small smile onto your lips when you saw your boyfriend step into your shared flat, suitcase in hand, his coat and shoes still on as well after he just made his way through Heathrow airport and probably (definitely) went through a mini heart attack too when his luggage didn't immediately come out with everything else from the flight, like he always does when you're flying somewhere.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd actually heard you call out to him. It was the last thing he expected to hear. Reasonable response, you had to concur— after all, you were supposed to be at work. Then he turned to face the couch and saw you laying there, basically drowning under the heavy fabric of your blanket.

"Hey, hey... What's wrong? Why aren't you at work?" he asked in a voice that showed obvious signs of worry as he quickly kicked his shoes off and went over to you, feeling your forehead with his cold palm. "Jesus. You're basically on fire, baby... I thought you just had a normal cough?!"

"Didn't wanna worry you," you chuckled with an innocent smile, but before you knew it, your chuckle turned into yet another harsh cough. According to your mum, you sounded like an elephant with tuberculosis, like she told you over the phone yesterday. Harsh but true comparison, you had to admit.

Lando groaned and shook his head in an exaggerated way. "Yeah but, you should worry me when you get a fever like this!" However his expression softened to one of sympathy as he sat down beside you on the edge of the beige couch, gently stroking your forehead in an attempt to make you feel more at ease.

"Why didn't you tell me you felt this bad when we talked yesterday?" he frowned, some of his soft curls falling onto his forehead.

"You just got P2 and you sounded so happy about that on the phone, so I didn't wanna dampen the mood," you respond with a shrug.

"The only thing you've got me feeling right now is worried, baby. Come on, you can hardly talk without having a coughing fit," he sighed, putting his arm around you and planting a kiss on the crown of your head. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not yet," you sniffled softly and shook your head, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb. It felt like there was someone playing a damn drum solo against the inside of your skull. "Didn't have the energy to make myself anything more than tea. I feel like death..."

"I know, baby, I know..." Lando sighed softly and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb as he stood up and placed his hands on his hips, looking down at you. "I'll make you some toast, okay? But first let's get you to bed... The couch isn't comfortable enough for when my girl needs to rest. It'll give you a stiff neck, sweetheart."

Lando gently looped his arm around your waist and helped you get up from the couch, a soft groan escaping your throat. He held you upright as you slowly walked over to the bedroom where your boyfriend lied you down in bed and pulled the covers over your shivering body, enveloping you in a warm sea of soft bedsheets.

"Alright..." he said with a sympathetic gaze in his hazel eyes and fluffed up your pillow a little, so you could lay down more comfortably. "I'll make you something and I'll bring you your tea in a minute too. Oh and some of that cough syrup we have as well. I know you don't like it, but I don't like it when you sound like you're gonna cough up your lungs any second. Do you want me to make you some soup later too?"

"You can make soup?" you retorted raspily and covered your mouth as another cough slipped past your chapped lips.

"Well... no... But I can make soup from the can?" Lando suggested with a sheepish grin, which caused you to smile a bit as well. It was so nice to have someone who just wanted to help and make you feel better.

"That'd be nice, thank you..." you replied softly and smiled, though you quickly covered your mouth as he leaned down to kiss you. "No! I'll get you sick too!"

"Well, I sure as hell won't let you sleep alone tonight, so whether I kiss you now or have my arm around you for seven hours tonight doesn't really make a big difference, does it?" he chuckled and gently took your hand away from your face to press a chaste kiss against your pale lips.

"Stay with me afterwards?" you hummed softly, not yet pulling away from the tender sensation of his lips on yours and your hand in his.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," said Lando in response and gently gave your hip a pat. "But first I'll get you something to eat and your tea from the living room, yeah?"

[obeymefictionwriting]

Brothers on Your Anniversary!

This blog honestly gives me so much life, thank you so much for reading and enjoying it! I hope you'll love this hc as much as I do <3

Lucifer

Lucifer has been planning your anniversary like half a year in advance

Meaning, the guy is C O N F I D E N T

You might think he'd be the type to take you to a fancy restaurant and such but he will actually plan the date according to your specific preferences

Doesn't mean he won't get you a huge-ass bouquet with the rarest Devildom flowers

Is actually pretty nervous since it's his first ever anniversary in a relationship and he is a control freak and want it to be perfect for you

Will kiss your knuckles softly and will then twirl you around, effortlessly spinning you in a smooth dance

Gifts you an intricate and beautiful pendant with his love confession engraved on it

"I'm looking forward to the eternity with you by my side, my love"

Mammon

The day will be 10000000% dedicated to you

Shopping spree, any restaurant you want, any activity you wish to try - just say a word

Holding hands 24/7 everywhere, proudly showing you to literally EVERYONE

"Dat's right, dat's my baby and damn we hit 1 year together!"

Is so proud of you being near him that he almost tears up

Poor boy has never had a relationship and is now determined to keep you forever

At the end of the night, will blush heavily as he wraps his arms around your waist and leans in for a kiss

"I'm s-so happy we are t-together...Thanks for dealing with my dumb ass..."

Levi

Decides to surprise you with a kick-ass 3-course dinner cooked entirely by him, obviously

Is EXTREMELY nervous but tries not to show it

Gets you a matching set of pjs and a super cute necklace

Proposes to watch some anime or movies and secretly hopes you'd say yes, because he doesn't feel like going out and wants to be just the two of you this evening

Holds your hand all the time

Plays with your hair lazily and grins

"Can't believe got a person like you to be my partner"

Satan

Classic romance is his thing

Be sure he'll take you to a small and cozy but ridiculously expensive place

He'll insist you two dress up because "the occasion is so very special"

Out of all brothers, is most likely to propose on your anniversary

After dinner, will probably take you to the nearest park; champagne and blanket ready

(oops, a momentary cat distraction)

Showers you with affection and can't keep his hands and eyes off you

"Kitten, I'm honored to be loved by someone like you"

Asmodeus

Mhmmm an anniversary... so exciting!

Plans out a whole day dedicated just to you two

Spa, fancy dinner, shopping, massage - all included!

It's the first time ever for him to care so much about someone else and he is dedicated to make this day unforgettable

"I have a special something just for you"

RENTS THE WHOLE RESTAURANT TO SLOW-DANCE WITH YOU IN THE CANDLE LIGHT

"Honey, you have immense power over me and I surrender to you now and forever"

Beelzebub

He loves you so much that he actually wants to make it NOT about food

The things is, he has no idea what else to do... like... sports, maybe?

You notice how tensed he is and directly ask what's up

Reluctantly agrees to your offer to just eat somewhere and then cuddle home with snacks

"I tried to think of something unique because you deserve the best"

Wraps his hands around you and won't let go

Offers you head massage and just uses any excuse to touch you

"Y'know... You are my dearest person"

Belphie

Actually MAKES AN EFFORT

An attic, stargazing, a bottle of wine, and amazing fruits and sweets - just how good does it sound?

Presents you with a photo album filled with your mutual photos; a sweet note going with every photo

"You made my life full of memories that I'd cherish forever"

Kisses you softly all the time and braids your hair delicately

Loves this moment of peace and happiness but is a teeny tiny bit worried you might have preferred something more outdoorsy

"Just stay with me always, okay?"

[strwbrryeyes]

☼ don't wanna break up again ☼ (tsukishima kei x reader)

⟡ cw: she/her pronouns used but not much, use of alcohol, lot of angst, mentions and connotations of sex, no comfort/happy ending, lmk if i miss anything else

⟡ a/n: i really just needed to do minor adjustments so im uploading it again tee hee

⟡ eternal sunshine masterlist

Laying down in his bed, you look to the man next to you, Tsukishima Kei. You told yourself you wouldn’t do it again. You told yourself you wouldn’t fall into his bed another sleepless night, not after what happened but here you are…wrapped in his bed sheets as he watches a show, the lights of the TV flashing across his face highlighting every feature on his face you have come to memorize and love over the last three years and a half.

Turning to face away from him, you drift into your own thoughts. You and Kei have been on and off for a year and a half after two solid years of a healthy relationship. Without getting into details, the both of you have had a rough year and it has definitely affected your relationship. It affected the relationship so much that the both of you stopped living together to see if space would bring you closer together eventually- absence makes the heart grow fonder type bullshit- but unsurprisingly, it has only made the divide even wider to where you would constantly call it quits but then always found yourselves at each other’s doorsteps every now and then and for a few weeks, everything would be perfect again.

Tonight was no exception, you showed up at his apartment looking a mess, begging for him back and like the man he is, Kei let you in for a drink. One thing led to another and you both ended up entangled on his couch, in a heated makeout session which turned into makeup sex in his bed. This is how the first night always goes. Cry. Talk. Drink. Sex. And now that you’re thinking about it, you don’t want to keep doing this and everything hits you, you can’t keep going on like this. Knowing this, you feel the tears that have been building up all night spill out with soft sobs escaping your lips. You didn’t think Tsukishima would have heard you but after a few seconds, he sighs and turns off the TV.

“Look at me, [name].” He quietly while placing a kiss on your shoulder. 

Turning around, you look at where he is sitting up. Studying his expression, you can’t tell if he’s actually worried about you or if this is just for show so you stay silent. 

Kei wipes away your tears and caresses your face “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

Taking a deep breath you finally speak, “We can’t keep doing this, Kei.”

Tsukishima doesn’t even need to ask what you mean by that and all he does is sink down on the bed to lay down next to you. “I know… I know.”

For a moment, the room is filled with a heavy silence, the weight of your words hangs in the air. Tsukishima's hand remains on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that mirrors your own.

“You don’t want this either, do you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, I don’t. But I don’t know how to fix it, [name]. I don’t know if we can fix it.”

You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks again. “I know. And that’s what makes this so hard. I love you, Kei. I always will. But I can’t keep hurting like this. I can’t keep hurting YOU like this, pretending like things will change when we both know they won’t.”

His grip tightens on you, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “But what if... what if we try one more time? I promise I’ll be better, [Name]. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Your eyes flash with anger, sadness, and confusion as you sit up, pulling away from him. “It’s too late for that, Kei! How many times have we been here? How many times have I listened to you say you’ll change, that things will get better only for you to go back to your stupid ways?”

He sits up as well, his own frustration evident. “And how do you think I feel, [Name]? You think it’s easy for me? You think I don’t struggle with this too? I’m not the only one at fault here, you were never a saint either!”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Are you serious? You’re the one who walks away every time things get tough. You’re the one who leaves me behind without a second thought. I’ve been trying to save this relationship for who knows how long, Kei, but I can’t do it alone.” You shout at him, feeling the sadness inside of you be replaced with anger.

His eyes harden, and he stands up from the bed. “Maybe if you weren’t so clingy and so dependent on me for everything, things would be different. Maybe if you gave me some space, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Clingy? Dependent? How can I be clingy when you’re never fucking around? You think I enjoyed watching you walk away time and time again? I gave you space, Kei. I gave you all the space you needed, and what did you do with it? You pushed me away further.” 

He looks away, unable to meet your gaze. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. “You hurt me over and over again. And I let you. I kept coming back and letting you back in my life hoping things would be different, but they never were.”

Silence fills the room, the tension between you two thick. Finally, Tsukishima turns to face you, his expression softening slightly. “I’m sorry, [Name]. I really am. But I don’t know how to fix this.”

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “Maybe it’s not about fixing it, Kei. Maybe it’s about accepting that we’re not good for each other. That we bring out the worst in each other.”

His shoulders slump, and he nods slowly. “You’re right.”

Tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them back, not wanting him to see you cry one last time. “I think it’s time we say goodbye. For real this time.”

He looks at you with a look of pain and regret and walks over to you “I think so too, [Name].” he sighs as he walks over to sit next to you.

You lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. “I’ll always love you and the memories we had together, I hope you know that, Kei.”

Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, he just presses a kiss to your temple, scared he’ll say something wrong.

For a few moments, you both sit in silence, hoping one of you changes your mind and begs the other to try again, but the begging never comes and you both feel the end of your relationship officially come.

After what seems like forever, you take one last look at the man you’ve loved for so long before walking out his apartment. And though it hurts now, you know that in time, you’ll both heal and find your own strength and your own happiness. 

But as you begin to leave, you hear Tsukishima’s voice. What was once a soothing and calming sound, now feels like a cruel and sad reminder of the love that no longer exists. “You know I care about you, right?”

You stop at the doorway, looking back at him with even more tears streaming down your already drenched cheeks. “Then why did you always hurt me when I needed you the most? Why did you always leave?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out. You let out one last sad laugh before finally slamming the door shut before you leave.

Back in your own apartment, the emptiness is both a comfort and a curse. You sit on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every memory in your mind and you find it hard to cope with the fact that you now have to find out who you are without Tsukishima but you know that you’ll make it through.

Tsukishima, on the other hand, sits in the silence of his apartment, the echoes of your departure reverberating through the room. He knows he messed up, knows that his fears and insecurities drove you away. But for now, all he can do is sit and think about what could have been, the love that was lost, and the person he let slip through his fingers.

Days of pain and heartache turn to weeks but eventually, you find yourself enjoying life again. You’ve been going out with your friends more often, been picking up new hobbies, and most importantly, taking care of yourself properly. You don’t know what Tsukishima is up to, but you only hope that he is doing well and that he is becoming a better person for himself. You’ll always love him in some strange and twisted way, but you’ll love him from afar from now on.

[ne-videl]

𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽'𝓼 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

♡

yandere Rezef Hill x immortal fem reader

quirks of eternal life and the obsessed prince.

yandere, sfw, mentions of violence, kidnapping & imprisonment, angst??, you are immortal and reaaly bored, poor english, possibly wild image of high society bc real history suck

word count: ~3.5k

a/n: hii!!

exams be killing me

glad its over until the next year but I still have a shit ton of books to read at summer bc I'm in literature class (Tolstoy I hope ur spinning in your grave I don't want to read 3rd and 4th tome of war and peace but I have to)

anyway for this fic I re-read first chapters and?? Rezef is such a dick in the beginning?? and I forgot abt it??

also when I think about someone immortal this type of person just comes to mind (I mean ofc u don't give a damn about some angry man, you literally have been through everything) and don't worry about Cayena she's chilling in a nice place

indeed, lady [name], you are shining brighter than usual today. you've only recently returned to the capital, haven't you?" – at that warm evening, a pretty young girl was chirping in your ear, sitting with you on a luxurious sofa in the ballroom.

you listened with half an ear to a mixture of flattery and sincere admiration, looking into nowhere from under your eyelashes.

the ball was playing its climax, and the guests were harmoniously spinning in a german waltz. others, more noble and older, entertained themselves with idle conversations.

you too, thanks to your position, were little constrained by the limits of secular norms, and did not bother dancing. tonight you wanted anything other than to gallop around the stuffy hall. your eyes, devoid of the childish brilliance peculiar to your peers, looked indifferently at the guests.

the ball in honor of the beginning of summer was a great event, even the royal family usually participated in it; such celebrations instilled in their noble participants a sense of reverence for the higher-ranking present and idle anticipation of the upcoming entertainment.

but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't see anything more from the height of your velvet sofa than pretentiously dressed men and women; strangely moving, stiffly dancing and talking vague figures under the sickening light of numerous chandeliers. all this in the stuffy luxury of the hall seemed to you so fake, pretentious and unnatural that you could barely restrain yourself from haughty laughter, or from a bored sigh.

[name], beautiful [name]! daughter of the richest man in the empire, a brilliant socialite, trendsetter and muse of famous poets.

you vaguely remembered what was inside some rubbish that you read about a hundred years ago, you don't know when and you don't know where.

and although in your case, "a hundred years" might not be just a phrase, you couldn't care less. whether this the fifth life or the hundredth – what's the difference? right, there's none – you thought lazily, openly staring at the crown prince exchanging pleasantries with representatives of the capital's bohemians.

like you, who on the last night of spring were dressed up like a Christmas tree, his highness shone with the white brocade of his suit today. eyes with the color of ceylon sapphire peeked out from under his golden bangs, giving everyone present the condescending look of the royalty. little prince – as you laughingly called him to yourself – was handsome to the point that young girls blushed deeply as soon as they saw him, and married ladies sighed dreamily.

at the sight of the handsome prince, some memory cracked in your skull, however, it died as quickly as it appeared. this and a thousand other memories were simply not worth your attention, and, of course, you never scolded yourself for the forgetfulness inherent in your age. you were above it all.

Rezef easily distinguished among the crowd a lady dressed in thick silk with bare shoulders. on your neck, which he did not hesitate to stare at, there was a pair of pearl necklace with a large emerald. when you met his gaze, you smiled falsely and slightly bowed your head.

middle-aged count, whose name he could not remember, looked at the woman in the corner of the hall, and scratched his gray beard with a smile.

"gorgeous, isn't she?" – an old dog next to him grinned vulgarly – "the beauty of the empire, they say."

"what a wonder." – Rezef did not take his strangely enchanted gaze off you, and the words escaped from his lips with a gasp – "it's not a pity to fall in love with such a creature." – he said maliciously, as if he concluded for himself.

the crown prince walked towards you, ignoring the knowing look of the nameless old man beside him.

he walked confidently, with a deceptively friendly smile, and would have been incredibly ridiculous to you if he hadn't been so handsome.

"good night to you, lady [name]." – Rezef smiled warmly, and held out his hand in a snow-white glove to you, – "may I keep you company?"

he kissed your palm, and without waiting for consent, sat down next to you.

you talked about various nonsense; Rezef did not take his shining eyes off you and listened, and you chatted in a dry tone about the opera, exhibitions and the weather in the capital, hardly forcing yourself to remember the topics that the ladies had already retold a hundred times.

but the guests were invited to the cotillion, and you left the little prince as easily as you accepted him into your shining company.

with the last round of the dance, everything that was happening completely mixed up in your head into a bright, stuffy mess, accompanied by the imperial orchestra and the clatter of shoes on the lacquered parquet.

and in the end, caught by the prince's arm, you were only a little confused, but you didn't show it.

"why won't you stay the night at the palace?" – Rezef said, whose broad chest rose and fell rapidly after dancing, just like your own.

you raised your eyebrows, looking at him from under your eyelashes, and fell into thought, accompanied by the prince to one of the front balconies.

normally, you wouldn't mind spending the night with such a handsome man, but today you didn't want carnal pleasures at all. and of course, you could afford to just turn down the prince like that; just because you're not in the mood, just because you don't want to.

"thank you for the offer, your highness, however, I will refrain." – you said.

for a second, when his eye twitched, you saw something unpleasantly bitter in Rezef's soft features, a mixture of disappointment with something else. but you didn't care to the depths of your callous heart; today you're not in the mood, today you're not having any fun at all.

and what was the point of that endless journey that you called life if you weren't having fun?

Rezef fell silent, maintaining his sugary smile and standing next to you, and you leaned on the marble railing, looking up at the sky.

the pale disk of the moon is floating high on the horizon. there was music coming from the ballroom, the rustle of dresses and the clatter of shoes, irritating your ears; the little prince had been gathering his thoughts for a couple of minutes to speak; and you rested your chin on your silk-gloved hand.

"tell me, lady [name]." – your bored gaze returned to the Crown Prince, – "this night, the moon and the stars, and me, doesn't that remind you of anything?"

you raised your eyebrow. even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to remember; over the years, memories inevitably dimmed and got lost.

Rezef looked at you expectantly, with almost childish anticipation. a sick gleam flashed in his eyes.

the longer your silence dragged on, the more you disliked his face, his eyes; the childish interest in his handsome features contrasted unpleasantly with the look of a madman. as if you won't say what he wants to hear now, the earth itself will crack and split in half.

"I'm afraid not, your highness. nothing at all." – you said, lightly shaking your shoulders.

the little prince didn't say anything else. his lips trembled, and he stared into the distance, clearly terribly disappointed.

the last night of spring burned out in your cold eyes, and you sighed indifferently.

♡

Rezef remembered his childhood well. in a world where everyone hated him, for some reason, there were no pretty princesses or kind older sisters. nobody. at all.

there was only a lady dressed in silk and the moon.

you came to him in dreams; whether out of boredom or out of simple human pity, he didn't know. you came because you could and wanted to; because you said you loved doing what you wanted.

it was just the two of you in this dream world. you told him all the life you could remember; and you had a long one, longer than the biggest cat's tail.

the boy lay on your lap and listened, and sometimes cried.

in this world its eat or be eaten, but you definitely won't eat him.

"they all say that I have no place in this world. that I'd better disappear." – little prince was clutching the silk of your dress tightly in his hands and squinting. – "I hate them."

"all of them?" – you answered with a relaxed, lazy smile, running your hand through the boy's golden hair.

"you and I have a lot in common. that's the way life is, child. when you grow up, you definitely start hating someone." – you were grinning. – "and you cry and feel sad a lot."

"when I become emperor, I will definitely make you the happiest in the whole world! so that you will never cry again." – the boy squeezed your hands tightly in his palms and smiled radiantly. he hesitated slightly, and looked at you from under his golden eyelashes. "but you didn't tell me your name."

"[name]." – you breathed out laughingly.

"aren't you a fairy by any chance?" – little prince tilted his head to the side, looking at you with a radiant gaze of his blue eyes.

"perhaps." – you giggled.

prince laughed loudly. a fake moon was hanging over you two, and fake stars were shining; everything in the dream world is fake – you told him.

but he liked these strange dreams. and wanted them to become real; to have a real moon, real stars, and only him and you.

♡

every time already grown-up Rezef met the woman from his dreams, he felt his heart beating faster.

human heart, such a fragile and pathetic little thing. how many of these hearts have you got your hands on?

he would gladly have torn out each one with his own hands.

the love for you, which has passed through the years, was like bitter liquor sliding down his throat. after it, the stomach turns out, but it intoxicates so much that he can't hold himself from taking another sip.

there is no light in him to give you. all he has is the suffocating darkness of his mind, cultivated by the mores of the palace, the thirst for power and cruelty. but just as no one else besides yourself mattered to you, Rezef didn't give a damn about the nature of his feelings.

poor, pathetic little prince. no one told him that this is not the way he should love someone. like a child who has not been taught to walk, and now it's crawling.

he's still holding back, but if necessary, Rezef will gladly drag you with him into the depths of hell.

but it hurts so much. every time he sees you laughing with someone else, smiling at someone else, he wants to cry.

it should be me! – his heart screams – it should be me! – his wounded soul cries while the prince stands over the corpse of one of your suitors, whom Rezef himself turned into a bloody mess. you should have held his hand. should have been smiling at him.

when someone's neck crunched under his hands again, he thought about you. would you praise him if Rezef brought you this man's head? for your smile, he would give his own heart, still fresh, in warm blood, right out of the gaping hole in his chest.

if you knew, you'd laugh.

because you are eternal, and he is just a human being. Inevitably, there will come a day when you will live, but Rezef will not. one day he will die, will end, and you will laugh coldly and continue your endless journey.

no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, you will always have an escape route. you can leave him.

unfair.

Rezef was even a little mad at you for that. he loved you so much; if you had only fluttered your eyelashes once and smiled – even falsely – he would have laid the whole world at your feet!

but you're breaking him. you don't care. you're only interested as long as you're having fun.

oh, how he despised that feeling, and despised you. how much he wanted to kill all the butterflies in his stomach, tear out every shiny wing; wanted to never see your mocking smile and indifferent eyes again, one fleeting glance of which easily made Rezef forget about al struggles for the throne.

he loved you as he had never loved anyone before; and hated because he didn't want to love, because he knew that you won't ever reciprocate.

♡

he and you could't be called friends, however, in the capital's high society, almost all of its representatives were friends and enemies at the same time. in any case, it was not shameful for the crown prince to visit the daughter of the richest man in the empire for dinner.

tall pine trees lined up in orderly rows along the hectares of the estate's garden, shining with luxury no worse than the imperial palace. they bowed their gloomy heads and silently greeted the carriage that evening under the hot july sun that had not yet set.

after dinner was served and eaten, you ordered one of your maids to serve tea in the garden.

"undoubtedly, what happened to the count's daughter is a disgrace to the whole family, however, I cannot help but sympathize with her." – you talked a lot again and at the same time didn't actually say anything.

the only good thing about such conversations about nothing was the opportunity to listen to your measured, eternally bored voice, and just look at you like at a painting in a museum.

the upper world was completely fake and unnatural, and you gladly accepted this fake as a living embodiment of it. and Rezef was willing to play along, because he was the prince, because it was necessary to. and so your conversation drifted from topic to topic, from one rumor to another. the warm wind made him close his sapphire eyes.

"I've seen you in my dreams, marchioness. when I was little." – the crown prince lazily tilted his head to the side, – "I know you, yet you don't remember me. isn't that unfair?" – he said with mock, with sarcastic sadness.

"is it?" – you took a sip of flower tea from a porcelain cup – "well, life is full of injustices, your highness."

a small cabbage butterfly landed right on your finger, moving its thin paws under the cold gaze of your eyes.

"lady, do you like butterflies?" – the prince smiled warmly – "there are a lot of them in your garden."

"only poisonous ones, perhaps." – you replied, and with a smile reflecting his own, squeezed the butterfly in your hand. – "they bring death, yet die themselves if I squeeze my hand just like that. how curious."

"and what about you?" – Rezef, as if enchanted, watched the transparent wings fall on the countertop – "can't you die?"

"I can't be killed in a way that matters." – you answered with a grin, as if you were repeating these words for the thousandth time.

prince pursed his lips in a forced smile. in the end, nothing has changed; he is still just a man at the walls of the eternal city. you won't listen, won't understand, and won't love.

because eternity is beautiful by itself, eternity does not need anyone else.

Rezef likes to think he's doing the right thing.

It's your fault. you could not smile at him so beautifully, not illuminate his darkness with your cold light, not make him feel this.

he didn't want to expose the ugliness of his soul, didn't want to go that far. it's all because of you. you don't even know what an insane cocktail of love and hatred you're making him feel.

and you also don't know that your tea is poisoned.

♡

"do you like your new quarters?" – Rezef almost purred, – "I was trying to guess your preferences, but if something doesn't suit you, be sure to tell me."

huh?

"you won't feel a need for anything," – little prince smiled radiantly, – "prepare to enjoy family life. just have fun and obey me, and I will make you the happiest in the whole world."

what?

Rezef was sitting, busily folding his beautiful hands, and enjoying for the first time the confused, trembling look in your eyes.

a giant bedroom, a four-poster bed, silk sheets on which you were sitting, a translucent nightgown that barely hides anything, and a scarlet ribbon around your neck.

while you were looking around uncomprehendingly, the prince sat down on the bed next to you and smiled sickly.

you saw that abomination again in the bright blue; the look of a pure madman, love which became an illness, mixed with almost animal hatred. a ribbon around your neck.

did he just put you on a leash, like you were some lap dog? that pup, who cried on your lap? you, a being older than his entire palace? you, for whom biting off someone's head is like having breakfast?

you haven't been humiliated like this in the last half-millennium.

"child." – you said slowly and quietly, and in your dry voice there was no trace of the cheeky, fake politeness peculiar to this aristocratic disguise of yours – "I'll pull your guts out through your mouth." – your lips trembled in sheer rage.

Rezef stroked your head and sighed.

"you came into my life so easily. it didn't mean anything to you, did it?" – the corner of his eye twitched, and he laughed bitterly, – "don't think I'll let you go now. never."

hit landed right on the bridge of his nose. you turned out to be much stronger than he expected, and your face was distorted with rage like he had never seen before. Rezef felt his nose bleed.

was the devil himself looking at him through your eyes now? – he thought with a strange calmness.

you hit a couple more times, and, shaking the blood off your knuckles, tore the ribbon from your neck.

how dare he? all of them are just actors in your endless play. if you're not having fun, then none of this makes sense. if you're not having fun, then what are you living for?

you were breathing fast, and were silent. it was as if for eternity you two just looked at each other; you – with fury, he – with calmness, even affably. you were sick of that expression.

but that rage of yours quickly subsided. it wasn't that you forgave him, it was just that after a couple of days you got bored with being violent.

and a year later, you stopped paying attention to the seemingly completely insane circumstances of your new life at all. you didn't mind his sole yet imaginary control over you, just because he didn't mean that much to you.

even now, nothing has changed at all.

and with the tendons cut at your ankles, looking at him with the same bored eyes, you were still disgustingly beautiful to him in the moonlight on the last night of spring.

"tomorrow I will become emperor." – instead of greeting you, Rezef said, entering the room. his face did not express joy, rather, bewilderment, as if he himself for some reason was not completely happy with it.

"yeah." – you said, without looking up from the book, – "congratulations."

now it was difficult for you to move around by yourself, so Rezef usually carried you in his arms.

he sat down on the bed and put his head on your lap and frowned.

"tell me, [name]," – he looked up at you, and when he met your impassive face, he forced a smile, – "why do I feel like I'll never see you again?"

"because you won't. I'm bored." – you shrugged and continued, – "you know, I could hate you." – you spoke calmly and dryly – "but you're not worth it. because in the end, I go on living; I always go on, and you, child, will fall into the very depths of hell."

you stroked his golden hair and smiled calmly. Rezef hid his face on your hips.

"I don't regret anything," – little prince suddenly said softly and laughed.

the last night of spring burned out in your eyes as you disappeared.

brotha euugh

one day I'll go to therapy and stop being funny but not today

I finished playing slow damage and it's the best novel in my life (that shit destroyed me)

also good ends are for weak

I mean I write for yanderes ofc there's not gonna be anything good

it's either normal or "we're fucked" here

also I'm physically intolerable to good endings and will cry if I'd ever had to write one (I love sufferings)

[eddiethebanished]

It’s Only Fair

leadsinger!reader

Summary- Eddie’s working as a bouncer at The Hideout on ladies night, watches your band play.

Warnings- I’m not really sure if there are any? Please let me know if there are so I can learn.

Eddie had never seen so many women, especially at The Hideout of all places. By the time he got to work there was a line wrapped around the building.

He had been working at The Hideout as a bouncer for a few weeks, in exchange his band would be able to play more gigs at a reduced fee. But he had yet to work a Wednesday night,

which as it turns out was ladies night. Reduced price on drinks and girl bands gracing the stage.

With a groan Eddie pushed open the door to let the ladies in at 7pm sharp. A few had already been getting rowdy, banging on the door begging for early entry. From then on it was the same monotonous movements. Check ID, take the cover charge, nod his head toward the door signaling admission. Ignoring the giggles and flirtatious batting of eyelashes from some of the patrons, Eddie could tell by the sea of bright neon color dresses he most likely wouldn’t be hearing his preferred type of music tonight.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked, surprised to see the shaggy brown haired boy standing in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

Steve scoffed. “It’s ladies night, Munson. Plus, Robins band is playing tonight and their singer is like a total babe.”

Eddie chuckled and patted steve on the shoulder as he walked through the door. After what felt like eternity of checking IDs, taking the cover charge, and nodding his head towards the entrance, the line ended, save for a few stragglers here and there.

The first band took the stage with big teased hair full of aqua net, they wore matching jazzercise outfits and played the most headache inducing pop music that would even have Cyndi Lauper nauseous. Eddie made his way to the bar in hopes David the bartender could make him something to ease the pain of the night.

“Want your regular, Ed?” David asked while wiping down the bar.

“Sure, better make it a double” he said over the sound of the bands pitchy singer.

“Never worked a ladies night before huh?” Eddie shook his head, David continued “It’s not that bad, sure the music isn’t great but there’s rarely any fights to break up, and I make a killing in tips!” Eddie nodded and slid a five over to David before he was called into a sea of girls ordering shots and half priced cocktails. Eddie took up residence at a table near the door where a bold Steve Harrington was striking out with every girl he flirted with.

The second band who took the stage was just fine, the third band came on late, drunk, and ended with the bassist barfing on the drummers cymbals. After a brief intermission to clean the stage, the lights dimmed. People scrambled from their barstools and dark corners to the middle of the room. Shouts and whoops erupted as the band took the stage.

“This is Robin’s band.” Steve said sitting up in his seat and nudging Eddie. One by one the band members stepped up on stage, Robin with her drumsticks gave a silly wave towards Eddie and Steve, the latter of which shouted out a “Woo!” The bassist arrived next blowing a kiss towards the audience, followed by the guitarist. They each had their own unique style that worked together, it showed cohesiveness without needing matching jazzercise outfits.

When the lead singer got on stage the crowd went wild, eddies eyes widened. Black oversized t-shirt with black shorts you could barely see, fishnets and doc martens. Eddie shifted in his seat to get a better look.

“That’s y/n.” Steve said looking at Eddie with a knowing smirk.

“Alright Hawkins how are we doing tonight?!” You said into the microphone. The crowd responded with cheers and applause as you started your first song. It was a cover of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” by Joy Division. By the end of the first chorus Eddie was enamored.

When the song ended, you grabbed your placid blue fender strat and slipped the strap over your head. Eddie wasn’t enamored- he was in love.

“Watch it, Munson. You’re drooling.” Steve said.

“Shut up, Harrington.” He said flatly.

“This one-” you started while plucking a few strings, “is dedicated to all the shitty guys in Hawkins that broke our hearts!” Jumping into an original song about dancing with the devil and having your girlhood stolen, Eddie realized why all these people were at this shitty bar. They were here to see you.

When your set ended, Steve nodded his head to go over to the stage with him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to your future wife.” He added a wink and chuckled to himself. Eddie downed the rest of his drink and followed after Steve.

“Hey look, Steve, you really don’t need to-“ He was cut off.

“Oh come on, have some fun.” Steve said walking through the crowd.

“Hey guys!” Robin beamed “What did you think of our set? We’ve been rehearsing like crazy and I really think it paid off!” Robin rambled clutching her drumsticks.

“It was great, Robin-“ Steve began, he put his arm on her shoulder and said in a lower tone “where’s y/n? I think our boy Eddie here might want to meet her.” He grinned.

“Oh! She’s putting her stuff in the van, I’ll go get her!” Before Eddie could object, Robin bounced out of the propped open side door where he could see the band members putting equipment in the trunk. Robin returned shortly arm in arm with the lead singer, the girl of Eddie’s dreams.

“Steve, you know y/n.” Robin said, a grin plastered to her face. Steve nodded his head toward you. “This is our friend Eddie.” Robin said with a gentle push on your back towards where Eddie was standing.

“Hi.” Eddie said, with his signature smile, a little dimple forming on his cheek.

“Hey, I know you, you work here right?” You responded after taking a sip from your water. Eddie opened his mouth to respond when-

“Yeah Eddie is the bouncer, he’s also in this band that plays here Tuesday nights.” Robin answered for Eddie.

“Here, Robin I’ll help you with your drums okay?” Steve said raising his eyebrows and nodding his head towards Eddie. As they walked away Steve turned back and gave Eddie a thumbs up.

“What kind of music do you play?” You asked stepping closer to the curly haired boy.

“Uhh Metal, mostly. I’m also frontman and play guitar.” He responded nervously, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. You rocked back and forth on your heels and looked up into his dark brown eyes.

“I’ll have to come check you guys out, it’s only fair after you seeing us play.”

“Fair- right I have to warn you though, it’s nothing like tonight,” Eddie started looking around at the crowd still lingering after your set. “We get about five drunk guys at the bar and that’s it.” He chuckled.

“Well I can guarantee there will be one more person at your next show.” You smiled sweetly, Eddie’s eyes couldn’t help dart to your lips, they looked so soft with a lingering shine from the gloss that must have worn off while you were singing. Realizing he was staring for a beat too long he cleared his throat and looked toward the open door. “So do you need help carrying anything out?”

“No, I’m all packed up but thank you.” You responded politely.

“In that case,” Eddie’s voice deepened as he inched closer to you. “can I buy you a drink?”

A blush crept across your cheeks as you nodded silently. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bar where two stools had just become available.

David walked over to you two slinging a rag over his shoulder. “Hey rockstars, what can I get for you?” You both gave him your drink orders and faced each other on the stools.

“Okay, musician to musician, what did you think of the set?” You asked biting your lip nervously.

“Honestly, I was surprised.” He said, sipping from his beer bottle.

“Surprised we didn’t play covers of Madonna or Bananarama?” You asked while smiling into your drink.

“You could have sang anything and it would have sounded amazing.” He started. “When I came in today I couldn’t believe how many people were lined up to get into The Hideout of all places. But when I saw you up there, it all clicked”

You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh stop, they’re here for the half priced drinks, that’s all.” You said self-deprecatingly.

“Hey, all those people stayed after that bassist puked all over the drums.” you both laughed together. “You were a natural up there.” Eddie’s eyes met yours, still with a smile on his face.

“Thank you.” You said while holding his gaze.

“Hey y/n, sorry” Robin bounced up to you both, “My curfew on school nights is 11 and it is now-“ she looked at her watch. “12:30, and you drove so do you think we could…” she trailed off.

“Yes! Shit, Robin, I’m sorry.” You reached for your pocket pulling out a few stray dollar bills, about to place them on the bar. Eddie quickly shook his head.

“Nope, it’s on me. Employee discount.” He said with a wink.

“Aw, thank you, I’ll make sure I buy your drink when I come see your show.” You said putting the money back in the pocket of your shorts while standing up from the barstool.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie said with a shrug.

“Come on, fair is fair!” You giggled and leaned close to his ear. “I’ll see you Tuesday.” You whispered softly before Robin pulled you away.

Eddie could get used to working ladies night.

[gamma-rae-bursts]

Courtroom Obsession pt.1

y/n is an ADA assigned to Special Victims Unit. She’s been dating Olivia Benson for the past couple of months and despite their crazy workload things have been going great between them. This is until y/n’s office is flooded with mystery flower deliveries that don’t seem to stop.

Pairing: Olivia Benson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: y/n has a stalker, it's mild in this one tho, lil makeout sesh.

Genre: Mostly Fluff, will lead to angst.

Word Count: 1400+

A/N: Would you look at that, I finally wrote something! This is a part 1 of what will probably be a 2/3 part mini series. Covers a square of my bingo.

It started with flowers. You didn’t think much of it, after all being an attorney meant that sometimes you would receive gifts from grateful families for getting a conviction. But the flowers kept coming throughout the week, all kinds of bouquets bound together with ribbons, sometimes even placed in white twined baskets, with no notes attached. You looked at the colourful petals displayed in your office, the white lilies perfectly complimenting the vibrant colours of tulips and irises. The types of flowers varied in each of the bouquets, but it was never roses. You hated roses. 

After a few days you started thinking it was your girlfriends doing, who else would have known this small rose-hating side of you. 

When you finished work on a Friday evening, you headed straight to Olivia’s apartment, hopeful to finally get a free weekend after closing multiple cases during the previous week. Considering the field both of you were working in and the recent increase in cases you’ve barely seen each other outside of the precinct for the past couple of weeks. You’ve only been dating for a few months, although things were official between the two of you, you opted to keep the relationship private from work. You aimed for your professional relationship to remain unchanged and as far as you were aware it was working. After all the last thing either of you have wanted was to become the centre of attention of the 16th precinct and 1 Hogan Place. 

The uber ride, although long, was very peaceful. You looked out the window at the streets of New York City that were beginning to fill with the darkness of dusk, taking in the sight of people rushing down the streets, probably hurrying to their homes before the city was consumed by darkness. After what felt like eternity you finally arrived at your destination, thanking the driver and handing him the cash, with a few extra notes as a thank you for not bothering you too much during the ride. 

You used the key Olivia gave you just a few weeks earlier to open the apartment door, just as you entered the space you smelled the array of scents of what you presumed to be Olivia’s cooking, wafting through the air, filling the space with warmth. You smiled to yourself while taking your shoes off, before following the aromas deeper into the apartment.

Olivia was standing in the kitchen, fully consumed by preparing on of your shared comfort meals and as it turned out, one of her specialties. You always begged her to teach you how to make the signature mac and cheese, but she always joked that if she let you in on the secret you wouldn’t need her anymore, hence keeping the recipe hidden away from you.

 You took in the sight of her, she was wearing a checked apron on top of her comfy clothes, her hair was in a half-up-half-down style, with a little bun on top back of her head. The domesticity of it almost melting your heart.

“You’re staring, again.” she said softly as she turned around to face you, with a warm smile on her face.

“I can’t help it; you just look really cute.” you laughed, as you kept shamelessly staring at your girlfriend. 

“Here, try this.” the detective reached out to you with a forkful of the broccoli she roasted to go with the dish, always adamant to up your vegetable intake. 

 You gratefully accepted the food, opening your mouth and letting Olivia feed you. You practically moaned at the tease of the perfectly roasted broccoli, making her smile. “This is so good.” you added when you finished chewing the food.

“I’m glad you like it my love” she whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead before getting back to cooking. 

You watched Olivia gracefully move around the kitchen for a little longer, before wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on the back of her shoulder. She hummed and gently leaned into your embrace, happy to finally get to spend some time with you and you had no plans on letting her go now. 

The two of you stayed like this for a while, Olivia effortlessly finishing grating the additional cheese and you only restricting her movements a little bit.

“You can stop hugging me now, you know?” she laughed while you only tightened the grip you had around her.

“No, I don’t think I can” you giggled and placed a kiss in the crook of her neck. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too sweet girl.” She turned around in your arms to face you, cupping your cheek she placed a soft kiss on your lips. One of your hands moved from her waist to the back of her head deepening the kiss. Her lips moved against yours in perfect harmony, you pulled her closer to you, desperate for the contact as she traced your bottom lip with her tongue, making you smile into the kiss. She reluctantly pulled away “If you keep this up the dinner is gonna get burned”  

You giggled and placed one last peck on her lips. “You know I wouldn’t mind, I’m sure it would still be better than that disaster of a carbonara I made before”

“It wasn’t that bad” she laughed before getting back to the task she was occupied with before you successfully distracted her.

“Oh really? How about I make it again this weekend then?” you asked raising your brow at the detective. The carbonara was indeed that bad and both of you were fully aware of it.

“Okay maybe I’ll stay on the food duty for now, but you can watch!” you laughed at her statement, happy with the offer as you didn’t want to risk poisoning your girlfriend with your cooking.

You moved around the kitchen in silence, while Olivia continued working on finishing the meal, when everything was either fully out of the oven or with only a few more minutes left to go you finally broke the silence in the room.

“Thank you for the flowers by the way.” you whispered looking at her, a warm smile spread across your face. “they’re beautiful.”

“What flowers?” she questioned, not having a clue what you were referring to.

“The ones that were coming into my office the whole week?” you raised your brow, now also confused. “I assumed they were from you since there was no notes and none of the bouquets had roses in them.”

“No, they weren’t from me but now I wish they were.” she looked at you, a slight glimpse of worry in her eyes. “Is there someone I should be concerned about?”

“If by that you mean whether there is some rookie detective or ADA waving their eyelashes at me then absolutely not” you assured her, brushing her through her hair with the tips of your fingers. “I’m sure they were from the families from previous cases, you know they like to show their appreciation for getting the perps convicted.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” she said letting out a deep sigh.

“Hey, no need to get worried.” you gently cupped her cheek as you looked into her eyes. “I’m a big girl I can take care of myself.”

“I know you are.” she ducked her head down a little “But you are also my girl, so I am going to get worried regardless.” Her hand softly rubbed your back as she burried her face in the crook of your neck.

The rest of the evening as well as the following days passed and before you knew it you were getting ready to return to the office on a Monday morning. You and Olivia slept in that day so both of you hurried to get ready and rushed out of the apartment, taking your respective rides to your workplaces.

When you entered your office, a white basket filled with tulips, lilies and dahlias as well as small strands of forget me nots was nestled in the middle of your desk. You examined your surroundings before examining the basket itself. It looked like every other one you received the previous week, although this time it came with a small envelope attached to it. You opened it, finding a rather simple card inside, with a handwritten note. 

“Can’t wait to see you again, V.”

***

Taglist: @bratty-subby-girly @ashbones

Join my taglist here, or DM me to be added <3

[hells-wasabii]

Lilith x f!reader? I would love to see how some writers see her lmao

A/N: This one i really didn't know how to approach. We really know next to nothing about Lilith as a character, her personality remains a mystery. That being said, I did what i could, I decided to go with a half and half for this one as well. There also might be an unfinished sentence hiding in here somewhere

Character: Lilith

Type: Headcanons+Drabble (Lilith x fem!reader, Angst)

Lilith as a whole is an interesting character. She is graceful and rebellious. She’s the first woman and the former(?) queen of hell. She is a prideful creature and has every right to be. But that doesn't mean that she'll want to be above you, she craves an equal, someone that she can spend her time in paradise with. Someone she can count on to be by her side.

Lilith is free-spirited to a fault, a dreamer as Charlie put it, and that will definitely reflect in the relationship. She has ideas for what she wants in life, and she'll want you right there with her every step of the way. You might be considered 'the mistress of the queen of hell' but you're still her partner nonetheless.

But she also has a lot going on. Heavy, plot stuff. Just because she loves you that doesn’t mean that you have the go-ahead to get in her way. Whatever her goals may be, whether it's to put a stop to Charlie’s hotel or do whatever it takes to remain in heaven. You’re either a part of them, or you're not. It’s your decision but you’d best make it quickly when she presents it to you. She’s very no-nonsense when it comes to her important business. She won’t take lightly to you getting in the way.

The moment your feet met the sand, you could feel a wave of calm wash over you. Heaven, especially its beaches, tended to have that effect on souls. This was one of your favorite places in heaven after all. How could it not be? Gorgeous beaches as far as the eye can see, and the sky stuck in what is essentially an eternal sunset. Which, while unnatural, was lovely nonetheless. But the beach wasn’t why you had come, not this time at least. You lifted your gaze giving your wings a flutter to shake off any sand before folding them neatly. No, this time you had an important matter to attend to.

“Darling, I know you’re there.” Lilith always had a knack for knowing when you came to visit, from the moment you even set off towards her little portion of heaven she always seemed to be expecting you. “Come, join me.” She gestured at the chair beside her without looking back. That was a recent addition to her usual beach spot, you noted.

You remembered when you had first stumbled across this beach, it was absolutely breathtaking. Initially, you had been surprised by the beach’s lack of occupancy. However, as you walked along the shoreline with no destination in mind, you would come to find out why exactly that was.

It was only natural that a place of that caliber was occupied by the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. The very first woman, Lilith. She had been welcoming, much to your surprise, offering conversation and company on that lonely shore. Even extending something of an open invitation when you left, an invitation that you would accept time and time again.

You were sure that you were never meant to meet her, to even know of her presence in heaven. It certainly seemed like something that a human soul wasn’t meant to be aware of.

And yet here you were, chin-deep in a romantic entanglement with the Queen of Hell herself.

You knew better than to beat around the bush. Lilith always did prefer keeping things to the point when it came to things of importance. She didn’t particularly care for games of that fashion. So you  “Are you really going back to hell?”  You knew it wasn’t something she wanted to do, she had been content in just leaving well enough alone, but that angel, Lute, had forced her hand. And in turn, forced yours as well.

Your lover looked back at you, lowering her glasses to look at you directly. “Is that a problem, dear?” 

Yes, a very big problem at that, never mind that you’re an angel, would heaven even allow you to go down to hell? Would they even know? This was dangerous and wrong, and… and you knew that you would do it anyway, didn't you? Every fiber of your being was screaming how wrong this was, but you were the mistress to the queen of hell. You were sure you could handle it, so long as you were by her side. And so you smiled, you would happily follow this woman to hell and back. Literally in this case. “Of course not, Lilith.”

This brought a small smile, one that you couldn’t quite decipher, to the queen of hell’s lips as you took your place in the chair next to her.

“Good, because you’ll be coming with me.”

Everything seemed to freeze in place at the revelation. What have you gotten yourself into this time?

[frieschan]

𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. // genshin men

➳ character/s featured: ayato kamisato, diluc ragnvindr, tartaglia, zhongli x f! reader

➳ unrequested | scenario // fluff

➳ TW: not proof-read

➳ summary: you and said character have started growing close, finally they open up to you about their personal life.

➳ AN: sorry for disappearing! part 2 with thoma, kazuha, albedo, and xiao here

—AYATO KAMISATO ; pillar of fortitude !

TRUST LVL. 4 ; about y/n

"ahh, the lady of the HIIRAGI clan. She is a very docile and graceful woman, she tends to be very efficient in her work which I am very thankful of. I admire her patience as well, in a recent work I've heard that a third-party intervened.. Let's just say they left with whispers of admiration about lady Hiiragi heheh"

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about lover

"ohh, my darling wife y/n.. you didn't know we were married? heheh, some things are just meant to be left unsaid until time is right. She is one of my greatest joys in life after a hard day at work. She always scolds me along with Ayaka whenever I overdo certain things.. What can I say? I'm a busy man after-all. I treasure her as much as I do with Ayaka, I'd fight heaven and hell over and over to protect them.. She doesn't deserve to be put against the dark abyss of this world, as her husband it is my duty to protect her.. Ahh I think I'm rambling, please forgive me."

AYAKA KAMISATO ; about Ayato's lover

"about y/n being my brother's wife? I'm so grateful that someone like her is around for my brother.. She always covers his blinds spots and takes care of him, he tends to be quite forgetful about his needs. She is like the older sister I never knew I needed.."

—DILUC RAGNVINDR ; the dark side of dawn !

TRUST LVL. 4 ; about y/n

"y/n.. one of the very few people I can trust."

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about lover

"There are very few people I trust with this information I hope you are smart, y/n is my fiance. Shocking? Me and her have always kept it a secret as a way to protect her from.. certain targetting. I tend to keep her away from Kaeya.. He can't be trusted with anything unlike y/n."

KAEYA ALBERICH ; about Diluc's lover

"oho? Diluc's fiance? She is indeed a treasure among Mondstadt.. She's the type to glow in a room full of people, very much the opposite of dear Diluc.. It never fails to amaze me just how he managed to be with a angel like her."

—TARTAGLIA ; childe !

TRUST LVL. 4 ; about y/n

"She is quite a handful in battle, always brimming with surprises. She's quite a joy to fight against, you might just learn something if you try it yourself, traveler!"

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about lover

"y/n is indeed my lover! my partner in crime.. my other half... nothing could ever compare to her. The joy and excitement she brings me is different from the adrenaline of duels.. yet it feels just as pleasurable. You know, my siblings just love her! Everytime I come home and she isn't with me, I become a punching dummy for the younger ones.. Sigh, they're not the only one devastated anyway. You heard about her being my lover from La Signora..?! Just another reason to steer clear of that woman. Hmph."

LA SIGNORA ; about Tartaglia's lover

"Oh? Childe's dear sweetheart? She is quite pleasant to talk to, unlike her lover.. She is quite thoughtful and caring, once when me and her were on the boat to Snezhnaya together, she had brought with her a coat for me, worrying for my wellbeing. Such a sweet and pure flower for a bloody blade like Childe."

—ZHONGLI ; vaga mundo !

TRUST LVL. 4 ; about y/n

"y/n? Another member of the funeral parlor. She is a lady with grace, a fine worker of the parlor indeed.. If you were to need help and I were not available, she'd be the best one to approach."

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about y/n, truth

"It seems as though you've learned the truth of y/n. It is true, she is indeed a God of Liyue, one of the last remnants of my early days... She is quite responsible for the beauty of flowers that bloom across these lands. I have been eternally grateful for her hard work all these years."

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about lover

"*sigh*, I will assume Hu Tao has given you this information. y/n is my wife, my prized gem.. I've sworn to do everything in my power to protect the last bit of Morax in my life. She is one who has witnessed the ugly and beauty of my actions all these years.. yet she still has chosen to stay by my side. I refuse to lose her, I would rather give up my power as an Archon than live a life without her."

HU TAO ; about Zhongli's lover

"y/n.. one of my best workers! She's a blast to talk to unlike Zhongli, though he scowls whenever I keep her from work with my rambling.. Ai-ya! Let me get you into a little secret, y/n is actually Zhongli's wife! Crazy right? I sometimes wonder that if I tried to be as patient and pristine as y/n.. maybe I'd get more customers?"

copyright © 2022 | frieschan

reblog or like if you enjoyed!

[spctrsgf]

to his office

prompt #351 from @/lyralit: 

“I could kiss you right now.”

“You’re very welcome to do it.”

word count: 3.8k

warnings: spidey!reader (tried to make it gn, lmk if i messed anything up!), language, my shitty spanish, innuendos but no actual sex

a/n: i saw atsv and miguel was SO SCRUMPTIOUS i had to write this

“HOBIE!” You yell at the aforementioned Brit, narrowly missing a chunk of some building that is being thrown at you. “I bloody know!” He yells back, swinging from the building next to you.

You nudge your head to the left as a signal to him, releasing a quick whip of web to maneuver behind a rough, brick building to land on the side of it. Hobie wasn’t too far behind, and Gwen was soon to your left as well. The three of you heave in heavy breaths, synchronous in your silence. The inevitable stomp of the angry anomaly of the week roams in search of the very people next to you as well as yourself. 

“She just does not give up, does she?” Hobie quips, filling the silence.

“Well,” Gwen adds. “We did make her angry.”

“We? You were the one who threw a brick at her, mate.”

“And who’s idea was it to do that?”

“It was a bloody joke!”

“It didn’t sound like it–”

“Okay!” You exclaim, cutting their childish argument in half. “Enough. Back to defeating the Wannabe Crab woman, okay?”

“Right,” Hobie answers, quick to drop his anger like usual. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“We gotta trap him somewhere, but this fucking city is endless. It’ll take forever.”

“I think we gotta get her hands tied,” Pavitr says from above, nearly desticking Gwen from the brick wall in surprise. “That’s where the power is, right?”

“Jeez, Pav,” You yelp, coming down from your initial shock. “We didn’t see ya there.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for scaring you, but seriously. I think we gotta tie her hands!”

“He’s right, that would solve all the cement throwing we got going on.” Hobie agrees, shifting to lean on the windowsill next to him.

You tilt your head. “Do ya think webs’ll be strong enough for that one?”

“Ours? Nah.” 

“True, but Miguel’s would do us a solid right now with all this.” Pav interjects.

“He’s right. We need those ever so strong webs your boyfriend has to do the job.” Gwen nudges you with her shoulder.

Your cheeks flame, and you’re eternally grateful for the silky mask you have on. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Gwen! We’re not– he doesn’t– oh my god,” You pinch the bridge of your nose as best you can through the mask. “Back on topic!”

“Seriously,” Hobie nods. “You should ask the lad to help us out.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

All you get is a shrug from him.

“Or you, Gwen? Or Pav?”

They all give you a look, a look that tells you exactly what they’re thinking.

“No. Oh my god, guys! Seriously? He doesn’t like hearing from me, anyways.”

That’s true, you firmly believe it, and you have ever since you first got to Nueva York. Being the person you are, you originally doted around the idea of talking to him, of engaging in a conversation. But, to be frank, he scared you shitless. He towered over your stature, a whopping 6’9” to your pacifying build. But, somehow you found yourself standing next to a nonchalant Hobie, watching his floating platform float impossibly slow towards the two of you after a mission. 

He’d been… you could tell right away that Miguel wasn’t the type of person to sugar coat nor was he very good at hiding the emotions that flew across his face, because oh my you felt it. You felt the trail of his scarlet gaze as he took in his first impression, you felt the razor sharp cut of disgust, felt the way his tongue ran along his accentuated canines as you rambled through your report. 

He’d dismissed you as quickly as humanly possible, opting to talk to the laid back Brit, the one who didn’t have to clear his voice every few sentences. Maybe it was a force of habit, you’d tried to reason as your head bowed to scurry out of the room. He has been working with Hobie longer, there has to be an ease between them. 

But, as time passed, Miguel remained the same. He tossed you a cold shoulder, and seemed to avoid your presence unless needed. You tried to shrug it off, to pretend like it didn’t hurt you as much as it did, but it was hard to pretend when the sting of rejection slapped as soon as he was brought up. Which actually happened a lot. 

You weren’t sure where Gwen had gotten boyfriend from that. Sure, you thought he was attractive. It was hard not to with his broad shoulders, a stark contrast to his (slutty) waist. There was something about his fangs that intrigued you, it was something you’d never seen before. And it wasn’t just the appearance that did it for you: it was that under all the anger and the rough exterior and the mask was a man, vulnerable and caring and wanting to stop what happened to him from happening to someone else.

He might be blunt and mean and pushy and all those things, but he came from a truly caring place, from a want to help. You could see that shine through in the way Gwen and Hobie and even Lyla talked about him, and you could see that in the mission notes he writes and in the slim amount of time that you were graced with his presence. 

“That’s why.” Gwen’s voice shakes you clear of the memories. 

“Wha?” You blink incredulously at her, like that would somehow shock you into understanding her sentence. 

She shoves your wrist, which hovers in front of you with the button to call Miguel in a booming orange. “Call him.”

You glare at her, but all that earns you is a tilt of the head and a not-so-encouraging punch from Pav. “Fine! Fine.”

You take a deep breath before hitting the call button. It sends off some sort of interdimensional wave towards Nueva York, and you buzz with a different type of frequency, suddenly nervous. The Miguel effect. Your brain blurts. Always nervous. You sigh and remind yourself that there are three other spiderpeople next to you as the call goes through, and Miguel’s face pops up unceremoniously in front of you. 

“What’s wrong?” Are the first words out of his mouth. “Uh, well, you see–” You start, only to be rudely cut off by his attitude. “Get to the point. I don’t have all day.”

The blunt words don’t roll off your back like normal, maybe it was because you could hear the anomaly pound, inching closer. “We need help. We need your webs, they’re stronger and can hold this guy’s claws together. He’s been tearing up the city.”

“You’re supposed to be containing the threat, not me.”

“Miguel, if you don’t get your fucking ass over here right now, all four of us are gonna be dead.”

“Doubt it.” He sounds distracted, like he was observing something else in front of him.

“Seriously? You can’t take two seconDS..!” You cut yourself off to launch off the building as the anomaly slams her fist into the spot you were rested at just a few seconds before. 

You go to follow your partners in chasing the monster away from the buildings, to yell at the stubborn man currently still on call from the watch encircling your wrist, but your spidey senses perk up and then you’re swinging back towards the anomaly. Your eyes train on a woman, not much older than thirty, running for her life from the gnarly creature above her.

You don’t think. Normally, you’re all about thinking and finding the best course of action to try and save everyone, but you don’t now. Not when you’re so short on time, not when that woman could die. You dive, holding your arms out as you beeline to the poor woman. Her face turns from fear to relief when she sees you, reaching out to grab your hand as you scoop your arm around her waist and carry her to the nearest roof.

You’re off before she can say a word, and the glance back you lend her tells you that she knows exactly why you couldn't linger and conveys the thank you she couldn’t say to your face. It fuels you, and you move quickly, pulling the anomaly farther and farther from the people. “Are you a quiet one, huh?” The anomaly’s voice is low and gravelly. “I’m always up for a little banter.” You shoot back, taking a quick left to navigate to where you see your partners waiting, hidden and ready to attack. 

“Alrighty then, let’s banter!”

“Let’s.”

“Are you expecting me to now spew out my whole plan and sob story, cus it ain’t happening.”

You shrugged. “Nah. Most of you don’t anyway.”

“We don’t?”

“No,” You shake your head, coming to a stop. “We usually have you caught by that time.”

Right on cue, Pav, Gwen, and Hobie shoot webs out, attempting to contain the anomaly. You realize, as you're adding your own webs to the mix, that Miguel must’ve hung up the phone during your little fright. “What happened with the boss? We getting that bloody help we need?” Hobie calls out, tightening his grip. “Dunno!” You call back. “Maybe he hung up.”

“Call him back, eh?”

“I- I can’t! This is harder than it looks.”

“We know!” Gwen screeches, voice strained.

“What do we do, guys?” 

“Try and hold on.” Pav’s voice is uncharacteristically dim, lacking its normal cheer.

His tone sinks into your stomach. “What if we don’t–” 

“You will,” Miguel’s voice crackles from your wrist. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Uh–” You risk a look around as the anomaly struggles with a scream. “Open field. I can see an ocean from here, and there’s mountains to my right. Actually, I think it’s a river– we’re at a bend in it.”

“Got it. I know where you are, I’ll be there in a minute tops. Stay on the phone with me, okay?” 

“Will do.”

“He won’t be here in time.” You look up at the anomaly, her deep green eyes locked unsettlingly with yours. She yanks hard this time, and you see Gwen nearly topple and Hobie’s footing slip slightly, giving her arms more wiggle room. “Yes he will.” Your jaw sets as you shoot another web to wrap around her wrist, yanking her down onto her knees.

“You’ll lose. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Spiderman. Losing.”

“Crazy? Yeah, cus it won’t happen.” Gwen grunts from above, struggling to keep a clean facade.

“I’m almost there, cariño, hold on.”

“I am, we’re fine–”

And then you’re not. Because the anomaly bursts up in a spur of movement, effectively breaking the confinement you four had put on her. She runs forward, taking a straight track for you. You leap up, swinging away as quickly as you can. You pick through the strain on your forearms, through the cloud of fear in your head. You try to stay in the same general area you told him you’d be in, but it’s hard with the anomaly on your heels. 

“Miguel! Help, she’s chasing me, I can only keep her away from me for so long–”

“I know, I know, I’m coming. Hold on.”

But you’re not responding anymore. The anomaly swings a mighty claw straight into your abdomen, effectively sending you into the ground. Pav lets out a scream, sliding to catch you before you can slam into the grass, and Miguel knows something is wrong. You can hear his yells and Pav’s telling you to respond, but the pain in your side is excruciating and your brain feels like mush and your mouth is dry like sandpaper and your vision is tunneling into black and you try to speak but–

…

It’s very dark.

That’s the first thing you notice when you come to. It’s nice. But there’s an off putting feeling about it, like something’s lurking in the dark, and then you’re itching to turn on the lights so you can see something. “You have something covering your eyes, you do realize that.” Miguel’s smooth tone slides in from the left, decorating across the bland abyss.

Ah. So that was the problem.

Your arms feel foreign as you reach up to pull the fabric off your eyes, exposing you to the room you were in, only slightly brighter than before. “Lyla said the mask was supposed to help you heal better,” Miguel starts, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look at the man next to you quite yet. “I listened, she’s better at this than I am.”

“Am I not in the infirmary?” You question, before frowning at the way your voice sounded. You sit up, clearing it a few times.

“You were, but I moved you.” 

“Why?”

“I didn’t want you in there.” He answered bluntly, yet it lacked any substance at all.

“Why?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You chuckled dryly. “Miguel, you moved me from the fucking infirmary to your office. I think you owe me a damn explanation.”

“No.” He turns away, slinging a web out to launch him onto his floating platform.

“Miguel–” 

“No.” The orange screens encircle him, effectively slamming his hard tone into the flow of conversation that wasn’t really flowing anymore.

You frown, half sat up in the bed that he’d placed you on. You’re frustrated, you don’t understand what’s been going on between you and him. He hated you. You’d previously established that, his vibrant reaction to your question confirmed it. But he saved you. And he moved you into his fucking office. 

Your head swims with this new information, and you flop back down unceremoniously onto the bed. Your head tilts automatically to him again, the fiery red in the bleak, monotone room. His back is to you, and he’s furiously tapping at something on one of his many screens. The boldness of his stature, the way he’s standing is so unwelcoming that you’re now sure he never really wanted you there at all.

You sit up and hop out of the bed as quietly as you can, even though you know he can probably hear you in the silence that enveloped you both. Yet he doesn’t react, he doesn’t turn and yell like you thought he might. He stayed stoically and almost stubbornly facing his screens, so you turn and slip towards the door.

Fucking say something, Miguel.

He doesn’t. You don’t know what you expected anyways. 

So you continue your walk, your path out of noose that the room brought. Yet, steps to the hallway seem harder and harder to make, like the hallway is getting longer or maybe you’re moving a lot slower than you normally do. You move to shoot a web, hoping to gain traction and move somewhat faster, but you can’t quite get your aim right– 

And then your vision is fluctuating and you start to feel unbalanced. You’re not moving. You’re moving your feet, but you’re not going anywhere. Your brain is fuzzy and the ground is getting closer than it normally is- you don’t remember being this short? “Ay, cariño!” Is exclaimed from behind you, and then something’s grabbing onto your back and pulling you back upright.

Miguel has his arm wrapped around your waist as you wobble, guiding you back to the bed and then lifting you up to sit on it. Your hands come up to rub your eyes, trying to get them to refocus. They blur and then unblur, finally resting to take in your wobbly hands, which are held out shakily in front of you. In response, you twist your hands together just enough to feel the pain of it, reminding you that you were in fact awake and aware. 

“Are you okay?” It’s then that you realize that Miguel is still in front of you. He’s got you caged in, blanketing you in his grand shadow. Your neck cranes up to reach his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let your eyes linger during their ascent. When you meet the scarlet of his irises, you’re taken aback by the level of concern in them. Like he was actually worried about you. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, tilting your head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He scoffed, but didn’t move away. “I’m not worrying.”

“If there’s one thing you’re bad at, Miguel, it’s lying.”

“I am a great liar.”

“Oh?” 

“Dios mio, cariño, yes.”

“What does that mean, anyway?,” You question, rocking backward to tuck your feet underneath your legs. “I tried to get Lyla to tell me, but she will not let the secret loose.”

He freezes. “Nothing, sorry, slip of the tongue.”

“You do realize I can just search it up, right? Would you rather me find out from the reach of the internet?”

“Not really, what if you just don’t–”

“Miguel.” You rise onto your knees, leveling your gaze with his own and resting a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? It can’t be that bad, it’s not like you’re saying you’re in love with me or something.”

“Well–”

“Right, cus that would be like…” Your words tumble over him, your brain too keen on keeping your feelings, your delusions to yourself. “Te amo? Te quiero? I’m not sure…”

“Either one.”

“Yeah, so it’s not one of those, so what is it?”

He takes a deep breath, looking slightly troubled. His face twists his face up like he’d just bit into a lemon, and then you’re panicking again.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that–”

“It’s a term of endearment,” His voice stops your apologies in their tracks. “It literally means affection, but when you use it as a nickname it’s more like sweetheart or darling. Dear is another way to say it, but you get the point.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry about that–”

“Don’t be,” Your head tilts with his, following the way he turns his gaze away from you in embarrassment. “I like it.”

He meets your eyes again, curiosity and hope strung in his vibrant eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. The way you say it is so satisfying, if that makes sense.”

“You like when I speak Spanish, huh?”

You nod, and suddenly you’re the one hiding your face from his smirk. 

“Querido, mírame.”

“Miguel–”

“Ahora. I won’t ask again.”

You sigh, glaring at him. “I don’t understand you.”

“That’s okay, you’ll learn,” He leans down and then innnn, so that the two of you are practically nose to nose. “I know you can do it.”

“Do you?” Your brain is screaming at you, making you even more painfully aware of his proximity to your face, yet you somehow manage to clearly deliver the line. 

“Mhm.”

“Well, it’s only cus I’ll have the best teacher. You.” You hit his nose with your finger, catching him off guard.

“I am happy to take that title.” 

“Good.”

He hasn’t moved. Even as the room fades into silence, he hasn’t moved. He’s still so close, like you could lean in, barely four inches, and you’d be kissing him. You can smell him, a tinge of metallic blood yet so earthy and centering. It’s intoxicating: your brain is swimming and you're struggling to keep your head above the water. 

Cariño. Sweetheart. A term of endearment. You still haven’t quite wrapped your head around that, not that you’ve been given much time to mull over it. Was that him telling you that he liked you, more than a friend? Was that a normal thing, using that term? You didn’t know, but you had a feeling that would be the best confession from him you were getting, if he meant it that way at all. You were gonna have to make the leap yourself.

“Everything okay?” His hand lands on your shoulder, a gentle reminder that you’d been staring into nothingness for what must’ve been a painfully long time for him. “Yeah,” You stumble to regain your words. “Sorry, I-” 

“Spaced out.”

“Yeah.”

He nods, smiling just enough so you could see his fangs peek out. You were caught.

“Migu–”

“I could kiss you right now, you know that?”

“Huh?” stumbles stupidly out of your now slack jaw.

“I could kiss you. You’ve been staring at my lips for the past few minutes, mi amor, whether you realize it or not.”

“I have? Oh my god.”

He chases your drifting gaze, just like you did with his. “It was cute.”

“Cute is a word I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.”

“Cállete, you hear me? Shut up.” 

You giggle, grabbing his hand and sliding it up to fit comfortably on the back of your neck. “You wanna kiss me, O’hara? You’re very welcome to do it.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Now he’s leaning in, closing in those four painstaking inches to lock lips with you.

And it’s insane. Showstopping. Any kisses you had before then? Not even a fucking kiss. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first– mainly you, you suppose– but it worked itself out. Miguel must’ve really gotten into it, because once you swear he nipped at your bottom lip with those fangs of his, just hard enough to draw blood. Your hands, in the meantime, explored his mass of brown curls, previously smoothed back but released by your fingers.

His own hands nestled themselves in your hair, tugging on it just enough to draw a sigh out of you. He tastes like blood– surely yours– yet ever so homey. You lean into him inadvertently, so content in the moment. The rational part of your brain reminds you that you’d probably suffocate if you kissed him for much longer, but nothing in you cared very much about that fact at all. 

In the end, it’s him who takes a dip for air, who drags your face off of his reluctantly to gasp softly. You do the same, resting your forehead on his toned chest. His hand, still in your hair, guides you gently back up, just so he can absorb your appearance and vice versa. It’s crazy, taking him in like this. He looks so out of control, his hair disheveled and his lips puffy and his cheeks red, releasing air in quick puff puffs. You’re sure you’re not much better looking.

“Out of breath already?” He says, head tilted with a goofy sort of grin adorning his face. “I’m regaining it currently, don’t tease.” You puff back at him, dropping your head back onto his chest.

“Oh, but teasing you is the best part.”

You stab a finger into his side. “Be quiet.”

“If you fare like this, mi alma, you won’t last very long where we’re headed.”

Your head whips up, equal parts confusion and frustration. “First of all, I’m fine. Second of all, what?”

“C’mon.” he pulls you off the bed.

“Are we sure I can even–”

His arm is around your shoulders, hand clamped tightly around it to squeeze you reassuringly. “I got you.”

“Thanks.” Your smile towards him is mushy, but you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to care.

“De nada,” He smiles back, and you mentally note to tease him about his softness later on. “Let’s get all the way to home plate, huh?”

“Let’s.”

feel free to drop by my inbox anytime, everyone, before i run out of ideas

[mitsuyeaah]

i’m yours, and you’re mine.

— bachira meguru x f! reader

cw: college au, student athelete!bachira, nsfw (mdni), smut, exhibitionism, semi-public sex (empty locker room), unprotected sex, backshot, clit slapping (brief), fingering (brief), jealous bachira, pet names (baby).

a/n: mitsu’s bachira brainrot has officially started 🧎🏻‍♀️ this drabble is purely self indulgent!! apologies if my characterisation of meguru is inaccurate, this is my first time writing for him, and bllk in general <3 hope u enjoy!

bachira wasn’t the jealous type, nor was he an individual who easily lost his cool when it came to other boys possibly hitting on you, no. he knew that your relationship with him was secure—he was yours and you were his. bachira didn’t have to worry about anyone stealing you away from him but today was different. right after tonight’s game ended, his demeanour was different despite his team being tonight’s victor.

“he didn’t have to do all that, you know..” bachira clicked his tongue and jutted his bottom lip out—a sweaty arm secured around your waist as the two of you walked side by side to the locker room. grabbing the towel that hung loosely around his neck, you wiped at the sweat rolling down the side of his face, “i’m sure he meant no harm, baby. he was just being nice.”

you didn’t miss the way his fingers at your waist tightened, and the muscles in his arm becoming taut—a clear sign that he wasn’t going to let this go that easily. was he seriously that upset about it? you’ve never seen him act this way before, especially when other men tried to hit on you. usually, he’d even joke about it, saying things like “look how lucky i am to be your boyfriend!”. praising you because of how wonderful you were to have all these guys after you.

a few minutes after the second half of the game started. the ball suddenly came hurling your way. you had no time to react, blurry hues of black and white rapidly making its way over to you and the only thing left to do was close your eyes and accept the ball to your face. you sat on the sideline seats as usual, with every game that bachira had. he liked seeing your face while he ran up and down the field, a good luck charm that helped him calm his nerves during the match.

you waited for what felt like eternity for the ball to come in contact with your face; you were surrounded by the roaring of tonight’s crowd, panicking for your sake for what’s about to hit you but it never came. you took a peek with one eye before opening both of them, one of the players from the rival team had skilfully blocked the ball from smacking you dead in the face which caused the crowd to go wild.

barely even registering what had happened, the rival player—who had blocked the ball—now stood in front of you, asking if you were okay. upon nodding, he gave you a small smile but before leaving to go back to the field, he looked over his shoulder, “can’t have a pretty face like yours get hit, can we?” it left you dumbfounded.

bachira, of course, had heard this small exchange since his first instinct was to head your way and check if you were hurt in anywhere—and this was the sole reason why he was in a sour mood up until now, even though it’s almost been an hour since it happened.

normally, he’d shrug it off and simply tell them that you had a boyfriend but it didn’t sit right with him if the flirting came from a rival player, especially from the one who had been swiftly stealing the ball from him while he dribbled down the field earlier.

“yeah.. being nice or flirting?” he deadpanned. bachira held your gaze, his citrine eyes that used to be filled with joy was now full of annoyance. before you could say anything, his teammates—who had already changed and washed up—rolled out of the locker room, their voices echoing throughout the walls as they celebrated tonight’s win. “bachira! we’re heading out for drinks, coach’s treat for winning the first game of the season! you in? we can wait for you.” isagi rubbed a towel at his wet hair.

“mhm, i’ll meet you guys there. just text me the address.” your boyfriend let out an exasperated sigh before heading inside the locker room. isagi nodded at his reponse and turned to you, “all of us should be done washing up by now, you can head inside.. just don’t let coach catch you.” the man chuckled before leaving.

by the time you got inside only one shower was running and you knew who it was. you walked to bachira’s locker and fished for his change of clothes. the spare uniform that hung on a hanger caught your eye, you took it out from his locker and examined it—it was the same one he wore tonight, the number ‘8’ plastered on both sides, with his name in big, bold letters at the back.

suddenly, an idea popped into your head. you quickly changed out of your blouse and wore bachira’s spare jersey, a smile plastering across your face.

“baby, what if i just wore your shirt to every game i attend so they know that i’m yours and you’re mine?” you joked and turned to your boyfriend who’d just gotten out of the shower. as usual, he didn’t cover himself up.

your eyes widened at his nudity and you quickly averted your gaze, “b-bachira! will you cover up please?” you could feel your cheeks heat up from embarrassment even though you weren’t the one fully naked. bachira chuckled, “what? it’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before..”

bachira took a few steps forward to close the gap between the two of you, the soles of his bare feet slapping against the tiled floor. “what was it you were saying..? you, wearing my jersey so they know that you belong to me?” his voice was much lower now.

he gently grabbed your chin and angled your head to face him, there was a weird glint in his amber eyes, it was clouded with lust. “i.. i was just joking..” your lips were parted as you took shallow breaths to calm yourself down. the heat in the apex of your legs suddenly made itself known; bachira noticed the way you rubbed your thighs together to chase after some kind of friction.

the corner of his lips tugged up. ah, there’s that smile he always wore in the field—the one he uses against his opponents to rile them up but now he’s using it on you. to rile you up. “oh? but my name on your back looks so good on you, my baby..” he removed his fingers from your chin and grabbed your hand, sensually kissing at your knuckles while keeping eye contact.

bachira has seen you wear his soccer jersey in different occasions but it didn’t do anything to him more than his heart just skipping a beat when he saw you in it but tonight.. seeing you with his name and number plastered on your back, it awoke something else in him. especially when you told him that you’d wear it during his games so people knew you belonged to him. yes, you were only joking but he didn’t care. it turned him on.

your eyes fixated on a bead of water at the tip of his bangs, following it as it dropped on the floor, and in the process, you saw how his pretty cock now stood against his abdomen. you swallowed thickly and bit your lip.

bachira didn’t hesitate to grab your chin once again and kiss you. his lips desperately moved against your own—it was rough, needy, and full with want. almost like he wanted to prove to an imaginary audience that you were his, and only his.

you moaned into the kiss, hands coming up to rest against his naked, wet chest. your nails left trails of pink and red as you balled your hands into fists—fuck, he absolutely loved it when you marked his skin with your nails. it drove him crazy.

he was quick to move. turning you around and pressing you against the cold surface of the lockers with a loud thud, earning a yelp from you. “mmm—ah! bachira..” whines left your lips as he planted open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck. his hands skilfully circled to your front and unbuttoned your jeans, hastily tugging them down—shivering as the cool air kissed your bare skin.

“hmm? already wet, aren’t we?” he whispered against the shell of your ear. you bit your lip as bachira ran his index finger along the valley of your wet folds, he pushed your soaked panties aside and plunged two fingers in without warning. desperate attempts to hide your moans were long gone as your lips parted to let out sounds of pleasure. you rested your forehead against the cool metal and closed your eyes, relishing in the pleasure of his fingers inside you.

“fu—ah! fuck, baby!”

bachira tugged your panties down just enough to expose your sopping cunt; he pulled your ass back to his crotch so that you were bent at the hips—the only thing you could do was lay your palms flat against the lockers, you couldn’t even hold onto anything.

“fuuuck.. look at you. so pretty. so perfect for me.” bachira purred, citrine eyes filled with nothing but lust scanned your back. he kept his jersey on you for the sole reason of wanting to see his name on you while he fucked you from behind. there, in big, bold letters was his name and underneath it was the number ‘8’. his number.

“baby.. please! put it inside me—ah!” bachira slapped your clit with the tip of his cock before pushing it past your wet folds. the sound of your nails dragging across the metal surface of the lockers could be heard as you balled your hands into fists. “so fucking good—ngh!” you moaned as he bottomed out.

he let out a breathless laugh before leaning forward, moulding his hands against your own at the locker. the new angle drove his cock deeper into you, now deliciously kissing your cervix—your legs wobbled at this. he hasn’t even started moving his hips yet you were already gone.

amidst the pleasure you felt, you suddenly remembered where the two of you were. in a locker room, and anyone could come in at any time. “w-wait, baby! what if someone comes? we have to—” “hmm? don’t tell me you’re scared, baby? you know, something inside me is saying: we should be excited, not scared when we’re in a desperate situation.”

before you could respond, bachira moved his hips at a fast pace, earning a loud cry of his name from you. the sounds of wet squelches, and a mix of his and your moans bounced around the walls of the locker room. he rested his forehead on your upper back—where the letters of his name were plastered—and moved his hips at a faster pace.

his heavy balls slapped against your clit; his pelvis turning red from making repeated contact with your ass. bachira panted against the soft fabric of his uniform, gripping at it as you tightly clenched around him—beads of water from the shower mixed with his own sweat, coating him in a light sheen.

“aaah—ngh! so so tight for me, baby! looking so good in my shirt—fuck!” he brought a hand to your front and toyed with your clit, causing your knees to buckle. if it wasn’t for his strong hold, you would have been on the floor by now.

“you’re mine, and mine only. tell me—haah! what number am i drawing on your clit? hm?” you furrowed your brows at his question. your mind was fogged with lust that it almost didn’t make sense but you could feel the way his finger moved against it.

bachira was drawing figures of eight on your clit. number 8.

“e—ah! eight!” you stammered. he smiled even though you couldn’t see his face. “hmm—yeaah.. that’s right. the number eight. my jersey number.” bachira stood upright and used your hips as a leverage to drive his cock deeper into you. he wanted it deeper, faster, and harder, and boy did he fulfil that.

your moans increased in volume and pitch, and if there was someone to walk by the locker room, they’d know exactly what the two of you would be doing. “aaah! me-meguruuu~ i’m close!” bachira’s knees buckled at the use of his first name. fuck, he always found it sexy whenever his name rolled off your tongue so flawlessly.

“fuuuck! aaah! come on, baby.. cum for me—ngh!” he watched the way his jersey bunched up on your mid back, leaving his name in view—your ass bounced with every powerful thrust of his hips. fuck, you were so wet that a white ring had started to form at the base of his cock. you were such a good girl for him. all his.

your back arched further which allowed the blunt tip of his cock deeper. it pounded against your cervix over and over again until the knot it your stomach snapped. your sweaty hands slid from the locker, causing you to fall forward but bachira’s hold stabilised your limp body.

you moaned his name out as every muscle in your body stiffened with pleasure—a sharp sensation shooting up your spine. bachira massaged at the skin of your hips, still driving his cock in and out of your sopping wet cunt. he gave you breathless praises mixed with possessiveness—broken sentences declaring that you were his and he was yours.

it didn’t take long for bachira to reach his sweet release. pulling out, he came all over your back, both on his shirt and on your skin. he threw his head back in pleasure as spurts of his cum messily shot out of his tip—lips parted and amber eyes rolling back from the intense orgasm. his loud, shameless moans filled the entire locker room, and you feared that someone may walk past and catch the two of you in such a lewd act but bachira didn’t care.

the two of you stayed that way for a couple of seconds, chests heaving while catching your breaths. he turned your body around to face him before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“mine. all mine..” bachira whispered, resting his sweaty forehead against your own.

“all yours.”

© mitsuyeaah

[strayrockette]

Echos of What Could Have Been

Masterleist

Summary: Benny buries his grief under his anger

Warnings: Angst, grief, loss, angry and sad Benny

A/N: it’s an Angst type of night 😭😭😭 I’m sorry

The room felt suffocating, as though the walls were closing in, squeezing the life out of every breath he took. Benny sat slumped in his chair, the one she used to insist he sit in while she fussed around the kitchen, making dinner. A cigarette dangled loosely from his fingers, barely lit, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. He stared at the empty space where she used to stand, her movements frantic but graceful, rushing to put together the last bits of dinner. He could almost hear her muttering under her breath, trying to make everything perfect, even when he didn’t care if it was.

“Don’t rush over me, doll. I can wait,” he’d tell her, leaning back with a smirk, watching her flutter around like a bird with nowhere to land. Her laugh would fill the room, light and warm, echoing in his ears now like a ghost. He clenched his jaw, squeezing the cigarette until it nearly bent in half, the ember threatening to go out. The house was quiet now, too damn quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of the fridge and the ticking clock that mocked him, each second stretching out into eternity.

Benny’s heart twisted in his chest, a knot of pain buried under layers of anger and regret. He thought back to the day she surprised him with the news of her pregnancy, her face glowing with a joy he hadn’t seen in years. She’d been nervous, but he could see the excitement shimmering in her eyes, and for a moment, he’d felt it too. An anxious hope, the idea of something new, something good. His head had been spinning with fears—money, safety, the kind of dad he’d be—but none of it mattered when she smiled at him like that, like they were invincible. He’d promised himself he’d spoil that kid rotten, be the dad he never had. But now…

He snapped back to the present, his heart racing as he stared at the cold, empty kitchen. The cigarette fell from his fingers, hitting the floor with a soft hiss before he grabbed it again, his anger sparking hotter. It wasn’t enough. None of this was enough. He hurled the cigarette across the room, watching as it bounced off the wall and disappeared beneath the table, lost in the mess of broken plates and shattered memories.

“Benny, I’m home!” Her voice echoed in his mind, light and cheerful, the way she used to greet him after work. It was as if she were right there, standing in the doorway with that soft smile that always made him feel like everything would be okay.

Benny’s rage bubbled over, hot and blinding. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost it—hell, it wasn’t even the first time this week. But the anger, the frustration, the crushing weight of what he’d lost… it was always there, lurking beneath the surface. His fist slammed down on the countertop, sending a half-empty bottle of whiskey clattering to the floor. The crash of glass shattering echoed in the empty space, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

“Don’t forget to lock the doors, love,” her voice whispered, soft but firm, like she was reminding him to keep them safe. The words felt like knives now, digging deeper with each clatter and crash.

He grabbed the dishes she’d so carefully set, the ones meant for a dinner that would never be served, and flung them against the wall. They exploded in a shower of ceramic shards, pieces skittering across the floor like scattered fragments of his own broken heart.

“You’re gonna be the best dad, you know that?” her voice chimed, full of hope and promise. He could almost feel her hand on his, squeezing reassurance into his bones. But the sound only fueled his fury, the unbearable reality that he’d never get to be that dad.

He ripped the tablecloth off, knocking over the neatly arranged silverware, the untouched food—everything went flying. It was a tornado of grief, of fury, of a pain too deep to name.

“Slow down, Benny. You’re doing great,” she used to say when he got overwhelmed, her voice always a calm anchor. Now, those words rang hollow, mocking him in the shattered silence.

Benny stood there, chest heaving, the kitchen wrecked around him, as if tearing it apart might somehow put him back together. But the silence returned, thicker than before, pressing in on him, suffocating. He sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp. He could still see her, could still see the life they were supposed to have, the family they were supposed to build. He’d never get to meet his kid, never get to hold them, never get to be the dad he’d sworn he’d be. And that was the cruelest cut of all.

The ache in his chest throbbed, but he pushed it down, burying it beneath layers of anger and guilt. He didn’t want to feel this, didn’t want to acknowledge the emptiness that stretched out before him. But no matter how much he raged, no matter how much he destroyed, the reality remained: his baby doll wasn’t coming back. His child would never know him, and he would never know them.

Benny sat there amid the wreckage, the house silent once more, holding the echoes of a life that had been torn away too soon. He clenched his fists, swallowing the grief that clawed at his throat, and let the quiet fill the spaces where love used to be.

And then, just as he thought he couldn't bear the silence anymore, her voice came to him one last time, soft and heart-wrenching, like a whisper carried on the wind:

“Benny, we’re gonna be so happy…”

The words hung in the air, fragile and haunting, a promise that would never be fulfilled. The finality of it hit him like a punch to the gut, tearing open wounds he’d tried so hard to bury. His heart ached with the weight of everything they’d lost—the future that would never be, the family that would never grow. He was left with nothing but the ghost of her voice and the unbearable truth that happiness had slipped through his fingers, leaving him alone in the ruins of what could have been.

Taglist: @storiesfromafan

[analogwriting]

The Walk-in

Killer x gn!reader (afab edition) word count: 4.2k amab vers. a/n: i got this idea from a revelation i had about how im pretty sure every walk-in in every restaurant ever has been boned in at least once. my source to site is me bc ive been working in the food industry since i was, like, 12.

“Oh my god, y/n, have you seen the new cook?” Your best friend, Wire, spoke up from behind the bar. He was currently wiping it down, preparing for the rush that would be starting soon. 

You were bussing tables when he spoke up, you paused, walking over to him and tossing the rag over your shoulder. “I haven't. Isn't he a friend of the owner’s son or something?”

“Yeah. Met him in college.”

“Ah. Friend hire.” You made a face, causing Wire to laugh. He knows how much you weren't a fan of people being hired just because they knew someone who worked there - especially when it came to the owner. “They never last.” You shook your head. 

“Oh, c'mon. I heard his cooking is great.”

You raised an eyebrow as you went back to wiping down tables. “Biased opinions, probably. Of course they're gonna say his cooking is great. But good cooking isn’t everything in this line or work. You and I both know that.”

Wire had a thoughtful look on his face as he nodded. “That's true.” There'd been plenty of instances where a good cook was hired, but they couldn't deal with the rush or crazy customers. None of them would last through the night. “He seems like he'll hold well.”

You snorted, standing up and folding your arms across your chest. “That's what you said about the last guy.” You rolled your eyes with a grin. The poor sap didn't last half an hour. 

“I was being optimistic?” You snorted and shook your head. “Oh sure. Optimistic.”

“I'm sure he'll become overwhelmed and leave within the hour.” That was your bet. You didn't usually expect much from newcomers, especially friend hires. 

“Wow, not even giving me a real shot, huh?” A deep voice came up from behind you. A shiver ran down your spine - not from fear, but from the sheer attractiveness his voice had. Oh shit.

You turned around and the air left your lungs as the most beautiful and sexy man stood behind you. You blinked, trying to find words to say but your brain wasn't fully caught up with the situation. Holy shit, this was the finest man you'd ever seen in your life. 

“You must be the head server with the high expectations then.” You opened your mouth to say something - only for nothing to come out. You glared over at Wire who held his hands up in surrender with a shit eating grin on his face. He knew that this man was exactly your type and chose to retain that information. 

A sly grin spread across the cook's face. “Cat got your tongue? Where'd all that barking go?” 

Your eyes widened, one of them twitching. Oh, he had a mouth on him too. It was on. 

Finally, your brain caught up. It'd felt like eternity, but it was only a few seconds. You folded your arms across your chest, an unimpressed look crossing your features. “I believe I am giving you a chance, just don't have high hopes. Can’t in this line of work - takes a special breed.” 

You looked him up and down. Fuck, he was fine as hell. “Anyway. They say you're a good cook. The customers will be the judge of that. That's not all, however. Where most people fumble is service itself. Always ends up being too much for people - too busy.” 

Then your brain circled back to what he had said earlier. “And of course I have high expectations. I only want what's best for this place and I don't need people wasting mine or my coworkers time.” 

The man before you just had an amused look on his face as he watched you. That irritated the shit out of you for reasons you couldn’t specify at the moment. “Don't worry, I won't be wasting anyone's time. I assure you, I won't be going anywhere either. You better get used to me now,” he crooned, leaning in as he spoke.

Your eyes narrowed at him. You wanted to punch him in his smug little face. “I've had plenty like you, too. Big talk. Think they'll last. Usually, they're the quickest to leave. Honestly, I’m being generous with an hour.” 

He chuckled, straightening back out. “We'll see when I'm still here after rush then, huh? If I stick it out, which I will, what do I get for winning the bet?”

The sheer audacity of this man. You stared at him, but didn't hesitate in your answer. “A job, duh.” You rolled your eyes. “I don't have time for this. I have a floor to prep.”

The cook laughed. It was one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard. Damn, you must just be horny. It had been a while since you've gotten laid, but you also had a rule of never sleeping with your coworkers. You didn't knock others for doing it, you just didn't personally. You felt it made things complicated - though you were also an overthinker. Too many what ifs. What if it didn’t work out? What if you hated working together? What if you spent too much time together? What if, what if, what if?

“I'll see you after dinner rush then.” He winked at you and your heart almost stopped. Jesus fuck, you were down bad for a man you wanted to strangle. He walked off, leaving you standing there with Wire. You watched him leave, admiring his fat ass as he left before you turned back to your best friend.

He burst into laughter and you narrowed your eyes. “You're the worst, you know that?” That caused him to laugh harder. “Oh my god. I was just waiting for the moment for the part where you both just tear off each other's clothes and start going at each other right there, holy shit.”

Your face immediately warmed up. “Shut up, Wire. No one asked you.” You folded your arms across your chest with a frown. “You could've fucking warned me he was hotter ‘n hell.” 

Wire laughed again. “And miss the look on your face? That was priceless. I've never seen you be so taken aback before. The great y/n rendered speechless by the new cook.”

“Don't call him the new cook. He's gotta prove himself first.”

Another chuckle came from your best friend and he shook his head. You sighed, looking in the direction said man had left.

“What are you thinking about now?”

“How it's a shame he's not a baker with all that cake he's got. And how I wouldn't mind him icing mine.” Wire burst into laughter again and you just shook your head, clicking your tongue. “Too bad he won't last.”

Your attention shifted to the customers that walked in and you headed over to greet them. 

--

Rush was busier than usual. It was always insane, but it was even more so tonight. This was something you usually lived for, the chaos of the floor. It kept things interesting and helped time fly by. Slow nights drove you insane, which is why you were always scheduled the busiest nights too. Plus, you were insanely good at your job.

Being head server, your main job was just making sure that things were going out on time, keeping tabs on your servers, and taking care of any customer issues. You were technically a manager, yes, but you liked the title of head server better.

However, you could feel eyes on you all night. Yes, that's typically normal considering you're a server, but this was different. You also knew exactly who the culprit was. The new fucking cook. Every time you headed to the back or to the window, his eyes were on you. You'd glance at him, catching him red handed. 

Only, he didn't look away like most people. He kept his stare, only offering up a grin and the occasional wink as he cooked. Your body heated up every time, flustered that he was so casual.  Your mind was running wild with what you wanted him to do to you. You tried to keep yourself busy, but the growing heat across your whole body was making it hard. 

You tried to lie to yourself, saying it was because rush was busier than usual and you were running around even more. Every time you finally started calming down, he seemed to appear out of nowhere with his stupid smile, sending you into a spiral again. 

You could honestly punch him, that might just solve your problems. He was aggravating in every sense of the word. His cocky attitude was getting to you, making you even crabbier than you already had been. You were trying your best not to take it out on your fellow servers or the customers. It was fine for the most part. 

After rush, you asked another server to cover the one table you had left so you could take a minute. You immediately beelined it to the walk in. You flung the door open, unbuttoning your shirt a few times as you walked in. You closed your eyes, listening to the hum of the fans keeping it cool, and taking a deep breath as you fanned yourself with your hand.

Then the door opened, revealing the new guy. Someone mentioned his name was Killer. Funny. You wonder how he ended up with a stupid nickname like that. 

You glared at him as the smug smile spread across his face. Unfortunately, you knew he didn't end up leaving. His eyes being glued to you all night constantly reminded you that he had proven you wrong. He actually had done pretty well and the customers seemed to enjoy his cooking. He'd be sticking around as long as he wanted now - the job was his. Which also meant you had to deal with the fact that you were going to have to see him almost every day. 

“Guess you're stuck with me now, huh?”

“What are you even here for? Just to bother me?” You were in a foul mood and it was all his fault. You weren’t in the mood for his cocky attitude or ‘I told you so’ right now

“Well, I originally came back here to grab something but now I don't even remember what it was supposed to be now that you're in front of me looking like that.”

You looked down at yourself, confused. “What? Gonna make fun of me?” You were disheveled and hot, your skin flushed in some places. 

“No. You actually look really good like that.” A lazy smile appeared on his face as he folded his arms and leaned against the shelves. What the hell was he doing?

You could feel your body growing warmer despite the cooler air being blown at you. “The hell is your fucking angle? You've been staring all night and now you’re saying weird shit.” 

He blinked, raising his eyebrows. “And here I thought I was being obvious.” 

You stared at him for a moment as your head spun. What did- oh. Your eyes widened slightly and his grin grew. “Now you got it.”

Though, he didn't have much time to say anything else before you essentially pounced on him. You couldn't take it anymore, he'd been riling you up all night and you were at your wits end. And he was here, basically telling you to screw him. Actually, literally. 

You had walked over, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and kissed him hard. He grinned into you, wrapping his arms around you. “Finally,” he mumbled. 

You shook your head. “Don't let your big mouth ruin it.” He just laughed before kissing you again, patting your ass. You took the hint, hopping up and wrapping your legs around him. He held you with ease, hands firmly on your ass as he pinned you to the shelves. He squeezed you hard, making a small whine escape your lips. 

Your own hands pressed against his chest before pausing. You felt something through his shirt. “Oh my god - are your nipples pierced?” You had never moved faster than you were right now as you undid his shirt. 

He blinked in confusion at your sudden shift of attention, disoriented and a little pouty that you pulled away like you did.

You opened his shirt and, lo and behold, piercings. Your eyebrow raised and a grin spread across your face. “Now, that's hot as hell,” you mused as you ran your hands across his broad chest and piercings, tugging at them a bit. You heard him inhale slightly but before you could play much further, you were set on the ground, lips attacking your neck. 

You felt his teeth graze your neck before lightly biting at you as a hand slipped past your waistband and you felt him begin to toy with you. Getting right to business. 

Immediately, you melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt as your breathing grew shallow and labored. You cursed under your breath, your legs spreading slightly to give him better access. You definitely didn't see yourself shagging this man so quickly, if at all, and especially in the walk in. Who the hell were you at this point?

Though, it wouldn't be the first time someone hooked up in here and it also wouldn't be the last. You just never thought it'd be you.

“Fuck,” you whined, feeling his fingers circle your clit before sliding down further and a single finger teasing your folds. He kissed you again, patting your thigh. Once again, you knew what he was asking, hiking up your leg and he held it as one of his thick fingers slipped inside of you. You gasped, moaning against him. Fuck, you hated how much you were loving this. The last thing he needed was an ego boost. 

But honestly, you were too horny to care. 

You were ripped out of what little thoughts you had when he slid in another finger, moving them around inside you. You moaned loudly, causing him to kiss you once more to keep you quiet. Sure, the walk in had the constant fan to keep things cool and it muffled noise, but it wasn't completely soundproof. 

Knowing your coworkers, if they noticed both of you gone, they more than likely put two and two together. Especially the longer you were gone. You were kind of surprised that no one checked the walk-in yet, they were typically nosey as hell. 

Your moans were growing louder and you rolled your hips against his hand, wanting more. “You're a noisy one, hm?” 

“Says the one who cant shut the fuck up,” you mumbled back, breathlessly. He just grinned, inserting another digit, causing you to shudder and moan again. He moved his fingers around, his thumb stimulating your clit as he did so. He was hitting all the right spots and it was driving you insane. 

“Keep your leg up,” he said as he let go before reaching that hand around you to untie your apron. He emptied it out and rolled it up all with one hand. You watched in confusion but as soon as you opened your mouth to ask what he was doing the cloth was shoved into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Since someone can't keep quiet, I'm not going to be able to focus on ruining you and keeping you quiet.” Your face turned red, your body heating up even more. You felt like you were on fire. This was the most embarrassing situation you've been in but holy shit did it turn you on. 

Before you had much time to react, his hand placed itself back holding your leg and his other hand began to move inside of you. His fingers moved fast and ruthlessly, his thumb assaulting your clit in the process. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of movement, moaning loudly. The apron muffled it, so maybe he'd been right. You don't know how to keep quiet. Shit, how was this man single? With hands like this? 

You felt a coil tightening deep within you, your hips rolling and grinding against him. You were moaning and whining. The apron was going to be soaked by the end of this endeavor.

Right before you reached your climax, he stopped moving before pulling his fingers out of you. You whined in protest, looking at him with desperation. You should've expected something like this at this point, but you were so lost in the sauce that you forgot who was currently fucking you right now.

He spun you around, pressing you into the shelves, and pulling your ass out. He gave you a firm smack, making you whine into the apron. Fuck, he was driving you insane. It's like he knew exactly what you liked. 

A shiver ran down your spine as he pulled your pants down, exposing you to the cold air of the walk in. It also didn't help that you were soaking wet either, making things even colder. You gripped onto the shelves before you, trying to keep yourself from shivering anymore. 

Soon, you felt his body heat close to you. Now a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine. You had felt him press against you earlier when you were making out. He had felt big and usually you'd end up on your knees, getting a nice jaw exercise before you ended up getting railed. However, Killer kind of just took the lead and took care of you. Which isn't something you were really used to. You were also used to usually ending up having to finish yourself off. 

But by the looks of things that wouldn't be the case this time. 

Killer pressed a kiss to your shoulder before leaning into your ear. You felt the heat of his body wash over you, the sudden temperature shift making you shiver. “If its too much, bang on the shelf twice.” You just raised an eyebrow at him. If only you didn't have this makeshift gag, you would've said something smart. 

“Don't worry,” he said. “I can read your comment in your eyes.” You just narrowed your eyes at him, making him grin - he was eating every moment of this up. You weren’t sure how you felt about him already knowing you so well.

Your glare didn’t last very long before you felt the fat head of his cock press against you. A sharp inhale went through your nose in surprise, not expecting him to be quite that large - he was about the same size as some of your bigger toys. Your eyes rolled back as he began to slide his way into you. You groaned, gripping onto the shelving as you stretched around him. You could feel him throbbing against you as your own walls throbbed trying to expand enough to fit him.

You took each inch of him like a champ, spreading your legs more and bending over to get him to fit all inside of you. He eventually bottomed out and you both were panting as he paused for a moment. You could tell he was holding himself back, which you appreciated. You’d rather not have anything tear. That was never a pleasant experience.

“Look at that,” he breathed. “You took in every inch of me. Good job, baby.” His voice was low as he spoke into your ear. You weren’t exactly sure about the petname, but fuck hearing the praise made your head swim. What was up with you? You were never this submissive. 

You moved, pressing into him slightly as you whined. You needed him to move. He just chuckled, but luckily took the hint.

He pulled out of you slowly, almost agonizingly slow. You knew he had to be messing with you. You glared at him over your shoulder and he just grinned back at you. You had half a mind to take the apron out and say something. You started to reach for it when he slammed back into you. Your eyes widened, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as they rolled back. A strangled scream erupted from your throat as you felt yourself climax suddenly. Pleasure ripped through your body, every inch of you shaking as you held onto the shelves for dear life. 

Your breathing was heavy, labored. You hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest. You thought he’d take it a little easier, but at the same time you’d never felt anything that good…probably ever.

“Too much?” You looked at him through your blurred vision, shaking your head. A smile appeared on his face, replacing the concern that had been there. “I knew you could take it,” he said. In that moment, you realized he was panting pretty heavily too. His skin glistened with sweat, hair sticking to his face. Fuck, he was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen in your life.

His hands gripped onto your hips and you knew you were about to have your shit absolutely rocked. You gripped the shelves, bracing yourself. As you predicted, he absolutely started to go to town. One way station to pound town, population: you. Or however the saying went. In moments, the sound of skin against skin mixed with grunts and moans was filling the walk in. You just silently prayed that the cooling system was loud enough to muffle the noise for the most part. 

You didn’t dwell on this too long as your mind was slipping further and further into the lusty abyss of pleasure. Your entire body felt like it was on fire despite the fans blowing right on the two of you. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you the cooler was going to end up being on the warmer side after all was said and done.

With the absolute ferocity he was drilling into you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t walk or had some serious bruising tomorrow. You knew you’d have to push through it though because tomorrow was your double. Fuck, you really didn’t think this through. Hell, you didn’t think at all.

Again, your thoughts came and went, never sticking around for long and soon just nonexistent. Your eyes were practically glued to the back of your head as he used you. This was the railing of a lifetime. You’d already came once and you could feel yourself on the cusp of another. Killer was also about at his wits end too - his movements were growing more desperate and erratic.

You reached the edge first, feeling your body shudder once more as euphoria washed over you with your climax. You let out a muffled, long moan. His hips also stilled as he came hard as well. You were filled with warmth, feeling overly stuffed even more so before feeling some of it leaking down your leg. Damn, just how much did he unleash inside of you?

You were slumped against the shelving, trying to collect yourself. Your eyes were closed as you panted heavily, too weak to make any movement right now. Killer was panting too, placing soft kisses along your shoulders and neck while whispering soft praises that made your head spin a little more. 

After a few minutes, he reached over, pulling the soggy apron out of your mouth. “Holy shit,” you mumbled, coughing a bit. 

He slowly pulled out of you, making you whine slightly. You shivered as you were suddenly left empty, still too weak to move. He shoved himself back into his pants before helping you. He dressed you back up; pants on, apron around your waist. He stood you back up. “Are you alright?”

At this point, you weren’t sure - still on cloud nine. “I think I’ll be fine.” You stretched a bit, wincing slightly. “Tomorrow’s gonna suck though.” 

“I can cover for you.”

You looked at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “No offense, but I think you’d be a shit server.” 

He frowned. “And here I thought shagging you would take the attitude out of you.” 

You raised a brow, putting your hands on your hips. “Is that what you thought? Sorry, this isn’t something that comes from needing to be laid. I’m just always a bitch - personality trait.” You shrugged, retying your apron. You fixed yourself up before looking over at Killer. You snorted, buttoning his shirt back up.

“Looks like I’ll just have to try again.” A smug smile appeared on his face and you looked at him, a smile tugging on the corners of your own. “You can try as many times as you want, loverboy. It ain’t happening.” 

“I’ll ice that cake anytime.” Your eyes widened at his words and he laughed. “Yeah, I heard your little baker comment earlier. So you like my ass?” He winked, making your face turn red. “Fix your hair,” you mumbled. “Make it look less obvious we just boned.”

“Yes, boss.”

You rolled your eyes, flinging the walk-in door open to reveal several of your coworkers standing there. Wire grinned widely, a smug look on his face. “Everyone owes me twenty bucks.” There were collective groans. “No one knows our head server better than me, you should’ve known better than to bet against me.” He shook his head, holding his hand out as everyone forked over money. 

“But they literally never sleep with anyone that works here ever,” someone protested, pouting.

You knew right then and there - you were never going to hear the end of this.

[nordschleifes]

the prophecy

➝ jenson didn't want money, just someone who wanted his company. is that too much to ask for?

➝ word count: 4k

➝ warnings: mentions of death, alcohol, and a particular bad time for jenson

➝ author's note: well, the last two weeks have been horrible, i completely doubted my ability as a writer and my health decided to abandon me in every way. i still don't feel very good and i really think i should give up everything, but ally won't let me, so here we have another one-shot that i had shelved out of frustration with myself. enjoy!

Driving down that street was bittersweet.

The night was beautiful. The sky was spectacularly clear and the silver light of the moon illuminated the gentle waves of the Mediterranean. The pleasant breeze disguised the heat that had been on the French Riviera all day.

However, you weren't looking at the goosebumps in your arms or the stars twinkling in the sky. Your eyes were fixed on the large butter-colored house that stood discreetly among the shady trees just to his left.

As you stopped the MINI you had rented at Nice airport, you allowed yourself to roll down the window and contemplate those familiar walls.

It felt like an eternity since you had last been there, walking up the stone steps, the gray mixed with red. You closed your eyes, trying not to pay attention to your stomach, which churned at the memory. However, it was something you couldn't help.

After all, that had been your last sight of John Button.

You clearly remembered the day you had met him. Wearing a white shirt and with red cheeks from the heat in Melbourne, he approached you and your boss, Richard, with a wide smile. After some typically English jokes about the intense sun, he invited the two of you to join him at the table where he was sitting with his daughter-in-law, Jessica, and son, Jenson.

It was with that moment in mind that you noticed something strange in the house.

With the swaying of the tree branches that covered the facade, you could see that the front of the residence was illuminated, as if there was a light on. In addition to being sure that no one was in the house, you were almost certain that you hadn't left any lights on the last time you were there.

“Someone broke in”, you thought, rummaging through your bag for your house keys.

After typing a message to Jenson, stating that you had seen something strange at John's house and that you would check out what was going on, you made your way to the main gate, finding it ajar.

— My God — you murmured, as you followed the path in silence. With wide eyes, you were trying to make out the sharp sound that mixed with the rustling of leaves and the waves of the sea when a particular loud noise made you jump.

Taking your phone from your pocket, you rolled your eyes when you read the name on the caller ID. “Bad timing”, you thought, as you dragged your finger across the screen and brought the device to your ear.

— Now I can't, Jenson, I'm here at John's house…

However, instead of a humorous comment or an ironic question, you heard a loud sob.

— Y/N — Jenson murmured, taking a sniff.

— Are you crying?

— I'm here, Y/N.

— Here? Jenson, where are you?

— Here — he stammered, before crying again, this time louder.

So loud that you realized what he was talking about.

Walking a few more meters, you saw the staircase that led to the front door of the house, as well as a man sitting on the steps, accompanied by a half-empty bottle of whiskey and his face wet with tears, leaning against the wall next to him.

— Jenson! — you exclaimed, hanging up your phone and running towards him. Climbing the steps two at a time, you approached the driver practically out of breath, your heart almost coming out of your mouth — Jenson, are you okay? What happened? What are you doing here?

He looked at you with a blank stare.

— Y/N…

— Jenson, tell me, what are you doing here?

— I want my father — the driver replied softly, the words dragging on his tongue. Holding his face, you noticed more tears falling from his eyes — Where is my father?

— Jense — you murmured, before pulling him towards you for a hug. With his head buried in the crook of your neck, he cried loudly, his gasps making his entire body shake and your eyes filling with tears. You allowed them to fall from your eyes as you blinked a little harder, tightening your arms around him.

— He wasn't supposed to come alone — he stammered against his shoulder, before looking up and sniffling — He couldn't, he shouldn't…

— I know, Jense, I know — you replied, running your hand over his face to dry the tears.

— He died alone, Y/N — Jenson murmured — He died without anyone by his side. My father died alone, without anyone…

You pressed your lips together, feeling more tears streaming down your face. It was ironic and particularly sad, considering how loved John was by everyone around him. Dying like that, in the open and completely alone, was something you didn't wish on anyone.

— I don't want to be alone — he continued, rubbing his nose — I don't want to be alone, I don't, I don't…

— You won't be alone — you said, trying to calm him down, as the driver reached for the bottle of whiskey, taking a large gulp before you could protest or stop him.

— I will, Y/N — he replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand — I will, I know I will...

— No, you won't — you said, as Jenson brought the bottle to your mouth, only for you to abruptly remove it from his hand — And you're going to stop with that whiskey now.

He tried to retrieve the bottle, but you tipped it over the steps, spilling the rest of the contents onto the stone.

— No — the driver protested, as the amber liquid ran down the steps.

— Yes — you returned — You can't keep drinking, Jense.

— I can…

— No, you can't and you won't — you said, your tone somewhat harsh, almost like a mother scolding a naughty child — I'm not going to watch you drink yourself into an alcoholic coma with my arms crossed. Now get up.

He looked at you with an expression that mixed confusion and sadness.

— Y/N — he stammered.

— Come on, Jense — you said, giving your hand to help him get up.

The task of taking the driver into the house was not simple. Far beyond the darkness of the rooms, courtesy of the curtains that covered the large windows that faced the sea, Jenson seemed determined not to cooperate with your efforts to take him to the main suite to take a shower.

After some struggle to drag him up the marble stairs to the second floor and tripping over a painting that was leaning against the wall as he slurred about how much his father liked that place, you managed to make it to the spacious bathroom. of the room that had once been John's. Asking Jenson to lean on the white stone sink, you allowed yourself a few seconds to breathe before continuing on your mission to save the driver from the worst hangover of his life.

— You can take off your clothes — you said, seriously.

— For what? — he asked, frowning.

— So you can take a shower. You reek of sweat and cheap whiskey.

Your observation made him take a step forward, losing his balance and placing both hands on your shoulders.

— It’s not cheap whiskey, it’s a very good brand…

— Which you probably bought for five euros in some dodgy liquor store in Monaco, right? — you asked, as you took your hands to the white shirt he was wearing and started to undo the buttons, revealing his chest.

— But it was a good whiskey, you could have tried it — Jenson murmured — But you threw it all away...

— It was either throw it away or let you keep drinking it until dawn.

— That was my plan.

Your hands stopped at the last button of his shirt, your lips pursed as you lifted your face to look at the driver. The seconds of silence that stretched inside the bathroom made your heart sink. After swallowing hard, you asked him to take off his shirt, which he did without saying a word.

Next, you moved on to his belt, unbuckling it and undoing the button on his pants.

— What are you doing?

— Taking off your pants.

— For what? — Jenson asked in a naive tone.

— So you can get in the shower — you replied, bending down slightly to slide his jeans down his legs, leaving him in just his underwear — Come in.

— And the underwear?

You felt your face heat up.

— I definitely don't need to see your dick today, Jenson. Now go to the shower.

Balancing himself with his hand on your shoulder, he carefully entered the bathtub, sitting on the edge. Watching you turn on the shower, he hissed as he felt the cold water splash onto his legs. However, that didn't stop you from placing your hand on the driver's tattooed shoulder to encourage him to get wet.

— No, Y/N — he grumbled — It's too cold.

— The cold water will help you…

— I don't want help.

— Come on, please — you said, bringing your face closer to his — You'll feel better after the shower...

Turning his head to you, his gaze seemed empty.

— I'm not going to get better, Y/N — he said in a low voice — This is me now, this depressed and pathetic thing that no one wants around...

Something about those words made you adjust your posture, irritation rising up your neck in a hot wave.

— Get in the shower, Button — you said, harshly, pushing his shoulder.

Silently, he stood up and placed himself under the cold spray, letting out a loud grunt. After searching the cupboards and only finding some soap forgotten in the corner, you returned to the shower to clean Jenson's skin and hair. “It’s going to look terrible without conditioner”, you thought to yourself, as your fingers rubbed his scalp. After rinsing off the soap that was on his skin and hair, you turned off the shower and wrapped him in a towel.

— Can you dry yourself? — you asked, earning a positive nod from him — Okay, then I'll make the bed.

Leaving the driver to dry off, you went to the bedroom, testing the lamps that flanked the bed, which looked somewhat imperious with its canopy, and condemning yourself for having forgotten that there was no power in the house. The furniture was old style, however, contrary to what you would expect in a lived-in place, the cupboards, shelves and desk were empty. You knew that this was the result of a day's work by Jenson and his sisters with the intention of keeping their father's memories.

Removing the sheet, you felt relief fill your chest when you discovered that there were still pillows and a blanket on the bed. You had just thrown the dusty fabric in one of the corners of the room when Jenson appeared in the bathroom door, completely naked. Staggering, he dropped face down on the bed without any ceremony.

— Jense, I was finishing…

— No need — he murmured, his face against the pillow.

Pursing your lips, you dropped the blanket onto the mattress, making a conscious effort not to look at his butt.

— Okay, so — you stuttered, while the pilot fidgeted, turning his head towards you — I'm going to see if there's another blanket for me to take to the couch downstairs...

— Why?

— Because I'm not going to leave you alone here.

— So stay.

You gave a small smile.

— I'll stay, Jense, but downstairs.

— Stay here — he stammered, stretching a hand across the bed.

— Here?

A positive grunt was the only response you got, heavy breathing indicating he had fallen asleep. Facing his calm expression, you didn't have the courage to deny his request, especially at that moment. Settling down on the mattress, you felt Jenson shift next to you, grunting in reaction to your movement. Then, he placed an arm over your stomach, as if he was trying to hug you or just make sure you stayed there.

And you stayed.

The sun was rising over the horizon and entering the room through the window without any ceremony when you woke up. A little confused, you rubbed your eyes, focusing again on the ceiling, realizing that the checkered pattern was from the fabric covering the canopy and not an eccentric painting choice by John. The memory of the man made you look to the side, finding Jenson still lying down, sleeping soundly, a string of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

The scene made you give a restrained smile. The habit of drooling was something you had already used to upset Jenson, who claimed that it was a lie and that he had never drooled in his life. However, his denial didn't make you stop your jokes.

Rubbing your eyes, you stood up carefully, making your way to the stairs slowly, evaluating the way the sun entered the rooms and illuminated the spaces.

“No wonder John loved this place”, you thought to yourself, as you passed through the dining room towards the kitchen.

As you expected, there was nothing in the cupboards or refrigerator, something that seemed obvious considering the house had been empty for six months. However, at the same time as you could feel your stomach growl, you didn't feel comfortable with the idea of leaving Jenson there, especially after what he had said to you during the cold bath you had given him.

Jenson had mentioned that he was afraid of being alone and that he didn't want that for his own life. However, inside the bathroom, the driver said that no one wanted him around because he was sad, going so far as to say that he was pathetic for that. As you approached one of the windows, you pursed your lips tightly as you remembered the way he had said those words, as well as the pain that permeated them.

At that moment, you didn't know what to say to him, limiting yourself to putting him under the cold spray of the shower. However, the answer didn't come with a night's sleep, much less with a walk around the house or long minutes of contemplation of the Mediterranean that stretched blue and infinite between the trees. You knew it shouldn't be so difficult, that you could limit yourself to a few words of comfort and a hug, but it didn't seem like much.

— Good morning — you heard someone say behind you. When you turned around, you found Jenson standing in the middle of the room, his hair completely messed up as he rubbed his eyes.

— Good morning, Jense. Did you remember that underwear exists? — you gave a little smile. Looking down, the driver assessed his own underwear for a few seconds before looking back at you.

— I thought I should redeem myself after what happened yesterday. In fact, I apologize for — he hesitated for a few seconds — Everything.

— I appreciate your intention, but you don't need to apologize for yesterday.

— But I…

— It's alright. These are things that friends do.

A smile appeared on Jenson's face, but something told you he wasn't entirely sincere.

— Have you done this for other friends of yours?

— To some. You're not the only one I know who likes to drink, Jense.

— Lucky them to have you — he said, running a hand through his hair — And me too.

— Yeah, lucky you too.

The silence lasted for a few seconds until Jenson let out a sigh.

— Is there anything to eat in this house?

— I didn't find anything.

— I think Natasha cleaned the kitchen that day — he murmured, placing his hands on his hips — Do you want to go for coffee?

— In your house?

— Yeah, I guess — Jenson replied, with a little smile — I'm going to get dressed and we go, okay?

— Okay — you said, crossing your arms as he turned around and headed for the stairs.

You headed to Monaco in your rented MINI, navigating the tight, winding streets at a leisurely pace. This was clearly not something Jenson was used to, considering he was shaking his leg non-stop. However, you preferred to remain silent, trying not to get lost in the tiny entrances spread across the city.

You finally spoke up as you parked in front of the building, a white structure neatly placed against the hill that squeezed the city against the sea.

— We’re here — you smiled.

— Yes, we're here — Jenson murmured, without much excitement.

— Let's go up?

He hesitated for a few seconds.

— I don't know if it's a good idea.

You raised an eyebrow.

— Jense, you live there.

— But I don't know if I can...

— Why couldn't you go up to your apartment?

Passing a hand over his face, he merely muttered a swear word before exiting the car with heavy steps. You followed him in silence, particularly confused. Greeting the doorman, you walked down the hall to the elevator, which opened its doors promptly. Inside the metal cubicle, you could see the tension in the way Jenson clenched his jaw.

Tension that dissipated when he opened the apartment door and found that the place was empty.

— Thank God — he murmured, running his fingers through his hair.

— For what? — you questioned him.

— What?

— Thank God for what, Jense? — you repeated, seriously — What happened? Does it have something to do with what happened yesterday?

— Y/N…

— I know this is a complicated time, but I need you to trust me. You know I'm here to help you, it's always been like this, Jense.

— I know…

— So tell me. Tell me what happened and I will help you.

Jenson walked to the sofa, laying down between the pillows with oriental prints.

— It's complicated, Y/N...

— How complicated?

— Complicated in the sense that you can't fix it — Jenson replied, looking impatient — In fact, I don't even think I can do that...

— Tell me, for fuck’s sake! — you shouted, irritated by that damn suspense he was making.

— Jessica broke up with me! — he returned in a scream that seemed to carry all his anger and sadness — And before you ask, it wasn't friendly or anything like that.

You stared at Jenson for long seconds, carefully thinking about your next words. Something told you to try to talk to him to better understand the situation, perhaps even to orchestrate a reconciliation, however, you remembered something he had said the night before.

— Was she the one who said you were pathetic? That no one wants you around?

The question hit him in a sensitive spot, his blue eyes filling with tears. Upon seeing that reaction from the driver, you didn't hesitate to put yourself in the space between his legs and hug him tightly, his head against your stomach. Jessica had said that to him and, in a way, it filled you with anger.

Jenson wasn't pathetic, much less someone nobody wanted around. In fact, there were days that you just wanted him to be close to you, making you smile with his good-natured comments about trivial things. In your view, Jenson was like the sun, brightening even the grayest of British days. And he didn't deserve to be erased, especially by someone who didn't appreciate him the same way you did.

— You know it's a lie, Jense...

— But I can't stop crying — he murmured against her body — I don't feel like I used to, I just feel...

— Sad?

— I miss him — Jenson replied, looking up at you — I miss him all the time...

— This is normal…

— Not for Jessica. She doesn't want a guy like that, who keeps crying all the time, sad, missing his own father. She wants the happy guy that likes to party, have fun and stuff...

— But I don't want to — you murmured.

Suddenly, he raised his head, looking startled by his response.

— No?

— I want Jenson. And know that, whoever truly loves you, will always be by your side, no matter if you're happy or sad — you said, running a hand through his hair.

The driver gave you a small smile before hugging you again, his head against your belly. The scene could even seem romantic, considering the stunning view from the apartment and his almost intimate touch on your waist. However, any suggestion went out the window when you heard an uninteresting sound.

— I think you're hungry — Jenson murmured, looking up at you. The comment made you laugh.

— I came here because someone promised me breakfast — you replied.

— Well, if you insist — he said, letting go of you and getting up from the sofa.

The meal preparation was simple, with some scrambled eggs, toast and a cup of coffee each, courtesy of Jenson's inability to make anything more elaborate. Sitting at the kitchen counter, you were eating practically in silence when the driver broke the silence.

— Thank you for finding me yesterday.

— Oh, there’s no need to — you replied, taking another sip of your coffee.

— I need to, Y/N. I don't even remember how I ended up there without using a car, especially with that horrible whiskey.

— Yesterday you said it was great — you laughed.

— So you could see that I wasn't doing well — he replied, bursting into laughter along with you.

When the laughter stopped, you looked at each other for a few seconds.

— Any problem?

— None, I just remembered something my father said — Jenson replied.

— About what?

— About Jessica.

You rolled your eyes, picking up your coffee cup.

— Are you going to talk about her again, Jense? — you questioned, punctuating the sentence with a sip.

— No, it's just — he said quickly, hesitating a few seconds before continuing — He had told me once that she wasn't the right woman for me.

— When?

Jenson poked the scrambled eggs with his fork, somewhat disinterested.

— I think it was after I went to McLaren. It was a conversation we had after an argument I had with her. And he said that Jessica wasn't the woman for me and that there was no point in insisting on that relationship.

— No?

— “It’s a waste of time to continue with this girl, she doesn’t care about you”, he told me — he continued — But I didn’t listen. I thought it was nonsense of him, but he kept talking...

— Talking?

— That the perfect woman was right under my nose and that I was ignoring her.

You raised an eyebrow.

— And you were?

— I like to think not, but — Jenson hesitated, looking at you — I think he was right. Again.

You just smiled.

— John always had a good eye for these things. Especially when it came to you.

It was the driver's turn to smile, without saying a word. And in a way, it didn't need to. John knew his son like no one else, and if he said something was better for Jenson's life or career, he was almost always right. “Maybe that’s why he misses John so much”, you thought, turning your attention back to your plate.

After finishing your meal, you helped Jenson with organizing the kitchen, before checking the time and realizing that you were quite late.

— I need to go — you murmured, heading towards the door.

— Do you have any engagements?

— I have to pack my bags at the hotel.

— I thought you had them at the car — the driver said, with a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

— No, they're in Nice. I had gone to visit a friend here when I stopped by John's house and, well, everything happened — you explained — But now I can't stay, my flight leaves in the early afternoon.

— Where are you going?

— London.

Jenson pouted.

— What a shame, I thought youI would take the opportunity to make a stopover in Ibiza.

— No, I need a guide to the best parties and he's not available at the moment — you returned, in the acid tone that you knew disarmed him every time. And just as you expected, he laughed.

— In fact. So, I guess I'll see you later.

— Yes, you have to be in Woking in a week.

— Thank you for reminding me — he said, approaching you for a goodbye hug — Have a good trip.

— Thanks.

You were arranging your bag on your shoulder when Jenson said your name.

— Yeah? — you said, looking back.

��� My father was talking about you.

A hot wave rose to your cheeks, your hand tightening on the door handle. Your heart was pounding inside your chest, almost as if it had suddenly come back to life.

— I imagined — you managed to say, before leaving the apartment.