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katuschka · 5 months ago

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Miss Lucifer – Part One

Jake Kiszka x Lilith (f!OC) x Josh Kiszka

3000+ words

What happens in Berlin, stays in Berlin…but sometimes the outcome of the most whimsical ideas can alter the course of your whole life. Sometimes, you need to be shown the end of the road to be able to take it.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, masturbation, allusions to violence, whiplash, emotional whiplash, otherwise not much yet, BUT let me warn you in advance – Part Two is going to be intense – oral and penetrative sex, fingering, substance abuse, kidnapping (of sorts), hallucinations, manipulation, dark forces etc. (full list tomorrow)

Taglist

Part Two

Inhale…exhale…inhale…exha...ouch! Fuck!

There are certain very various benefits to the use of yoga…none of which you’ll be able to experience when both the body and the mind simply protest against your conscious efforts to feel better.

God knows Josh consciously tried, but this was no use. Nineteen rounds of Khatu Pranam completed, and he still felt like shit. The original goal for today was twenty five repetitions, but now he feared that continuing with this might actually make it all worse. The strained muscle was just the tip of the iceberg. His whole body, weakened by the lack of sleep and a nauseating hangover, was held hostage by that nagging, guttural feeling which he just couldn’t fully comprehend, no matter how hard he tried. That outward grumpiness that even transformed into an unfortunate fit of rage yesterday, was caused by an underlying anxiety that was griping at his guts lately. That much he understood, even though the others didn’t. The question was why he was feeling on edge all of the sudden. Everything was fine! Nothing had changed, right? Well, seemingly…

So, with the final huff, Josh returned back to the Vajrasana position and tried to stretch the stiff neck one more time. However, as soon as he tilted the head to the side, the sharp, stabbing pain in his upper trapezius made his face twist in discomfort. What started as a simple case of a strained muscle developed into some sort of psychosomatic ache that felt like a pinched nerve, even though their physiotherapist said it was fine. Oh the irony, and a truly hilarious cosmic retribution for striking Jake’s nerve…

At least the guitar survived, otherwise he probably wouldn’t.

It had been a long time since they last let the shit escalate like that instead of just telling each other to fuck off. He was fast enough to duck when the blow came, so thankfully, he wouldn’t sport a black eye on Wednesday. Perhaps too fast, though, jerking his head to the side with such abruptness that eventually left him with aching muscles and a throbbing headache. Add it to that underlying unease that caused all this mess, and he suddenly understood why the rockstars of yore often resorted to demolishing their hotel rooms.

Touring was both uplifting and stressful, but usually, the positive aspects of the whole experience prevailed. And when things got tough, they always had one another. Not this time. They were no longer teenagers with just one goal in mind. Things had changed. The fleet had been splitting.

Ever since they landed in the Netherlands a few days ago, Josh just couldn’t shake off this unreasonable irritation that made him jump down everyone’s throat, and even though yesterday’s show was a success, the trip as a whole was slowly turning into a shitshow. Jake’s bad temper mirrored his own, and neither of them cared to ask what was wrong. The tension between the two of them proved to be contagious, bad mood eventually spreading like plague in the confines of their bus.

They checked in the hotel just a few hours ago, arriving relatively late as they had decided to spend the night in Landgraaf to fight off all the remaining effects of jetlag. Not that it helped much, because no one slept after the show. At least it gave them sufficient excuse to spend most of the ride in their bunks.

They all left the bus in silence this afternoon and went their separate ways into their separate rooms, leaving what started as a petty feud pretty much unresolved. Now it threatened to turn into a real problem, like a festering pus pocket underneath what looked like a minor blister. What next…

He tried to make sense of it all, but this train of thoughts only made his head spin. Still kneeling on the floor, with his forehead pressed against the exercise mat and his arms outstretched, Josh let out a heavy sigh, feeling the tears welling behind his closed eyelids. He recognized the feeling. It had been years since he had his last panic attack, but it was unmistakable. Whimpering, he smashed his fist down on the floor, trying to fight it. He had been looking forward to this leg of the tour, really. There was absolutely no rational reason for him to feel this way…or to behave the way he had, which meant like a jerk, basically.

Irrational reasons shouldn’t get overlooked, but he didn't feel fit enough – both mentally and physically – to psychoanalyze them right now. Right now, he just wanted …no. Needed to numb himself down a bit. Again. As the exercise didn’t help, he’d better just get wasted. Again. Yeah.

So, a time for some tea, perhaps? With whisky, of course. Or, better yet, whisky with tea. Honestly, the tea was just a fragrant cosmetic enhancement to make the whole process of getting shitfaced seem more sophisticated. Also, it’s important to stay hydrated. But who was he kidding? He’d drink cheap rum right from the bottle if he had to, even though he hated that shit. Anything that would make both the pain and the restlessness go away would be good, and tomorrow’s hangover be damned, just like today’s. If only someone just poured it down his throat so that he wouldn’t have to move a muscle. Oh yeah, laziness should be added to the long list of “what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you”. It was debilitating.

It was the growing darkness that finally forced him to move, booze or no booze. He had laid the mat down during golden hour, with the sun illuminating the hotel room floor with muted orange light, creating a much needed illusion of peace that however lasted for only a short while. As the evening progressed, the room was getting increasingly darker minute by minute. Another orb was now illuminating the walls, still bright and powerful, as it had been a full moon just two days ago. Its silvery gleam felt a bit oppressive at the moment. Not really helping much. He couldn’t stand it, to be honest. So, grunting in effort, he finally got up from the mat and dragged his sore body towards the minibar to check on the supply, switching on the armchair light on his way. It instantly filled the room with a mercifully pleasant warm glow.

The minibar proved to be a rockstar’s dream, and amply stocked with tequila, too. However, Josh’s mind was somehow already set on whisky this evening and there were a few shots of Tullamore Dew in that magic mini fridge. He had never tried that one before, so to hell with tea. Smacking his lips in anticipation, he unscrewed one of the mini bottles and emptied its content down his throat, while trying not to tilt his head too much in fear of another spasm of pain.

The effect was immediate, as Josh hadn’t eaten much during the day. Low appetite was obviously another one of the symptoms of his crankinesiosis. Right now, he was in fact thankful for it, with the heat quickly spreading through his chest. He could even feel it tingling in his groin area, which gave him some new ideas on how to spend the rest of the evening. He took two more bottles from the fridge, nestled down in the armchair and helped himself to a second shot. It quickly gave him a bit more intense buzz. With it came a brand new wave of emotions, though. A melancholic yearning for something seemingly unattainable was probably the most prominent one. You’re hopeless, Joshua Michael. Just hopeless. Quickly, think of something more agreeable.

A threesome. As soon as the vision appeared behind his closed eyelids, invisible hands started stroking his bare torso, making his head spin in a pleasant way. Two imaginary fingertips pinched his nipple while another hand traveled down his stomach, making his abs tighten in anticipation. Without even knowing how that particular idea entered his brain, he quickly started palming himself through his yoga pants in a desperate attempt to chase the feeling. Yes, this was it, and he got rock hard in seconds. Pulling the waistband down, he started stroking himself in earnest, twisting his wrist in an excruciatingly slow motion every time he reached the already leaking head. He needed this to be intense, but he also needed it to last for a while. The vision didn’t, though, as he got distracted by a loud, shattering noise coming from the other side of the wall. Jake’s room. After that, he was once again left all by himself.

Opening his eyes, he noticed for the first time that the large mirror which was propped against one of the walls was in fact facing the armchair, ergo him. What a sight. He was a handsome guy, he had to admit. Modest when sober, but exhibiting a healthy amount of self-love everytime he fed his head. Preferably through the senses.

He wondered briefly what would happen if he just took his phone and recorded this. A king of the bitches, holding his big and shiny scepter. Parted lips and shuddering exhales. His heavy eyelids, partially covering the dark and shiny windows into his already inebriated mind. What a giant fuck off to everyone who ever mocked him it would be. A permanent ban from Instagram too, but not before he’d cause a tumult. The idea made him chuckle. Of course he wouldn’t do it – to Sam and Daniel – but a man can dream. He’d love to see Jake’s reaction…

His daydreams about turning into a real enfant terrible were suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone assaulting his door. He tried to ignore the first cannonade of knocks. Whoever it was and whatever they wanted, Josh was sure it could wait until tomorrow. Can’t a man jerk off in peace? A few seconds passed in tense silence. Tilting his head back, Josh started stroking himself again when the pounding noises resumed, making his heart jump.

“Open the door, asshole!”

Jake… Well, so much for a little, healthy dose of solitude. Tucking himself back in his pants, he slowly got up to let his brother in.

“Speak of the devil,” he muttered, his hand still clutching a door handle. That confused Jake for a second, making him look over Josh’s shoulder to see if he had company, but the room was empty. “Talking to yourself again? So nice of you to keep thinking about me while…doing whatever you were doing.”

Nostrils flaring, Josh didn’t try to conceal he was not amused. “Yeah, be sure that me, myself and I are absolutely not happy to see you. What do you want, Jake?”

“I’m bored.”

“Cool. What makes you think I care?” Josh asked, while taking notice of Jake’s current attire. Rugged but fancy.

Truth be told, so was Josh. Bored, that is…and then some. That simple word could serve as an oversimplified explanation of what was really going on. Jake was just the first one to realize that. The next step was to realize what might have been wrong with his brother. Their trips overseas used to be filled with almost childish excitement back at those times when everything was new… the four of them exploring new horizons and learning new things. Together, they witnessed their lives changing abruptly, and living through it all. That was no longer true. No longer boys, they were somehow on their own now, getting emancipated, and more and more sticking to a routine of their “established” career. Josh secretly hated that. He needed people, just like he needed new impulses. And he cared about what others need too, one of his biggest fears being that others would no longer need him…

“I don’t want you to care, I want you to go out with me,” Jake retorted, still feigning indifference. Without any further explanation, he just moved past Josh, who was still standing in the doorway, and beelined straight to Josh’s minibar. He either did not notice or chose to ignore the telling bulge in Josh’s pants, which was merciful, given the circumstances.

Jake did notice. He just paid it no mind since he did the same thing just fifteen minutes ago, while his own mind was trying to fight off the vivid and intrusive (and – let’s be honest here – satisfying) images of him throwing his twin out of the window. Jerking off was simply the first thing he tried when he needed to clear his head and release some tension, so it was pretty understandable that Josh resorted to the same self-treatment. Imagining killing each other was acceptable. Dicks were indeed magical instruments, with their own cognitive functions. Are you happy? Well, just choke the chicken and make yourself feel even better. Are you tense? Sad? You know the drill…

Except it didn’t work this time. He successfully emptied his balls and it felt really good for a few seconds, but things remained broken and his own mind was still reeling, just like Josh’s. Still both angry and distracted, he accidentally knocked down a whole tray with heavy whisky tumblers, almost cutting his left hand in the process. That’s why he finally decided to bite the bullet and come here. With a plan.

He poured himself a drink while Josh unscrewed the third whisky, sat on the corner of his bed, and gestured for Jake to get on with it, whatever it was. Jake took a deep breath, then sighed, took a sip, and finally started talking.

“Look, I don’t wanna fight. I’m sorry for yesterday. I totally understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Your concerns. I’ve been asking that question myself.” Josh just kept watching him, as the realization hit. He didn’t have to ask what question, a mere look was enough. At first his breath hitched, but he could feel the knot in his chest loosening just a second later. Jake’s sole presence and that silent communication between them was enough to clear the fog in his head. Fucking twinning. If only they weren’t so stubborn. Jake answered anyway: “Where do we go from here.”

The next album was almost finished, new lore already forged and a new path just set. But even though it was all done and ready to be presented to the world – or maybe because it was done and ready – it somehow belonged in the past, not the future. They had already moved past it, they just weren’t sure where they were heading.

Josh nodded in understanding. “You’ve changed.”

“Well, so have you. And that’s cool. I mean, we’re bound to…but it just feels that we’re approaching a fork in the road and I think it scares me. I don’t want us to move separate ways. At least not just yet, and definitely not because of some stupid disagreements that could be repaired easily if we just tried. Maybe it will become inevitable one day, but I think we still have a lot to say. Together. See, I lied. I do want you to care. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise. I guess we both know that some things probably need to change. Let’s just go and find out what it is.” With that, Jake exhaled explosively as if he had been holding his breath the whole time. In a way, it felt exactly like that. At last, he could take a breath…

They remained silent for a minute, Josh now lying on his back with his legs still dangling from the bed, Jake still standing by the minibar, watching Josh examine the blank ceiling. Jake knew Josh was just thinking about what he had just said, so he waited patiently.

“So, where do you wanna go?” Josh asked finally, still immersed in studying the intricacies of bland white coating above him. He wasn’t ignoring what Jake just said. They both knew he acknowledged it, and this was his way to tell Jake he too was willing to do something about it. A small black spot right above his head suddenly moved, which threw the switch for his train of thoughts momentarily. Was it a fly or a tiny spider? He couldn’t tell in this lightning…How come they don’t fall? If he were high, he’d probably laugh, but intoxication didn’t work that way. It just made him realize that it was about time to stop being a prick. He closed his eyes just to refocus, then looked at his brother, indicating that he had his full attention at last. It was a cue for Jake to answer.

“I don’t know. Just… somewhere. Night life beckons,” he said, rubbing his chin, which indicated there was more more on his mind.

Josh wasn’t entirely sure that getting wasted together was the right thing to do right now, as it didn’t work yesterday, or the day before, but he succumbed to the idea. If nothing else, agreeing to Jake’s whim would be his own peace offering gesture, albeit weak. “Ok,” Josh sighed. “Lemme call Richard...”

“Don’t. Let’s go alone. Just the two of us.”

Josh sat up abruptly, eyeing Jake in disbelief: “Now? And in Berlin? Are you out of your mind?”

“Exactly. In Berlin. Why not? We’ve been here before, but we haven’t seen much. Let’s just experience some different aspects of the city…or this country. The Dark series version of it, maybe, I don’t know. Raw emotions, mystery, real human history…that includes queer history,” he paused dramatically, which made Josh roll his eyes. “It’s all there,” he gestured towards whatever was there outside the window, then continued: “ We’ve been here many times before, in fact, and all we’ve got to know so far are just some Oktoberfest gimmicks…and we already know that from home. No wonder we feel stuck. This is just one example of many, but let’s start here and now. I mean, let’s experience something new. Let’s get uncomfortable. This is a perfect opportunity.”

Josh just shrugged. His mood had already improved enough to be able to have a normal conversation, but not yet enough to agree to this. “I’ve enjoyed the Oktoberfest version so far. Jugs of beer… huuuuge boobs…I like feeling comfortable.” He chuckled when Jake gave him his oh really look. To demonstrate his point even further, he raised his hands up and wiggled his fingers, as if trying to squeeze a pair of imaginary boobs, while rolling his eyes like a madman. “Jiggling. Pillowy. I like that.”

“Yeah, whatever…so are we going? I promise we’re gonna find a decent pair of comfortable soft tits for you to knead so that I can finally indulge in some real, adult shit.”

Josh lay down again, shaking his head in disbelief, which only made Jake roll his eyes in annoyance. “C’mon Josh, that’s exactly it! I’m sick of this chickenshit. We’re grown men, for fuck’s sake.” When Josh didn’t respond, Jake put his glass back on the tray with a clang and gruffled: “Fine, I’m going by myself.”

“Jake, wait!” Josh scrambled from the bed in an attempt to stop his brother from leaving without him. He sighed, resigned: “Just give me ten minutes, tops.”

Thirty minutes later, they finally left Josh’s room and were off to the bowels of the city.

Part Two

@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr @kiszkas-canvas @lyndz2names @wetkleenex-gvf

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pauking5 · 6 months ago

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Runaway 🏎️ Chapter 2 🏁

Pairing: Naozumi Hiyama x fem reader oc

Genre: racing AU, enemies to lovers, rivalry, suspense, a whole lot of teasing, gender power games, spice

Word count: 13.1k+

A/N: Chapter 2 already? Hope you're enjoying it so far. I spoiled you with this one ;) Things are slowly getting heated, both racing wise and a little up close and personal this time around. I'm rallying behind what's hopefully my last uni work this week so hope this one's good. Enjoy lovelies.

Raiko's Playlist: Monster - A7S with Alok, Locked out of Heaven - Bruno Mars, Youngblood - R3HAB Remix, Greedy - Tate McRae, Ocean Drive - Duke Dumont, Into You - 3LAU Remix, She Doesn't Mind - Krmoni, Something On My Mind - Purple Disco Machine & Duke Dumont & Nothing But Thieves, Bad Boy - Chungha & Christopher, React - Pussycat Dolls

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Day 2 of Tour de Tokai

"Rai, take it easy," said Tanaka worriedly over the coms. "The new suspensions will break if you push them too hard."

You would happily take it easy peasy lemon squeezy if the road wasn't turning the car into a fucking death trap, going at over 100 kilometers per hour on the most difficult and curved track in the world.

Any miscalculated sway of the wheel could project you into the ditch at the side of the road, kissing goodbye to any chance of completing this stage. Which unfortunately did happen in the first one this morning.

That bold black lettering spelling out DNF next to your name on the scoreboard was not what you expected after bagging third place on the first day. Bitter wasn't even close to describing how you felt. Sour, dejected, with an ever-growing pit of disgust for this tour sounded more like it.

Frankly, it wasn't even supposed to happen. It was a rookie mistake. One that cost you a bunch of points.

At one turn, halfway through the race, your car hit a rocky mound neither you or Tanaka saw in the pre-race drive. An anomaly that birthed itself from thin air most likely. Coming towards it at full speed with no time to break and avoid it, the car slid over it scratching a big part of the chassis by the loud screech drilling in your ears and the lower back bumper, sending your rear right into a deep ditch.

You revved the engine multiple times to get it out and back on the road but the car simply refused to work with you, wheels spinning in the gravel underneath uselessly keeping the car suspended. You were towed out by the marshals, driving back to the station in shame after hogging up at least ten minutes off everyone else's stage time. The rest of the drivers scowled at you, angrily waving you off the road to get to the start line. Being called a rookie in insult after that and not something else was actually a compliment.

Tour de Tokai was spread out so unevenly and it bugged you beyond prevail because it put insane pressure on the car that was barely out of the factory still. With new components too.

The first day had one long stage over 40 km but it was a full paved track, much more easier to take on, hence the good result you had yesterday. Today on the other hand, consisted of three awful stages around a mix of tarmac and off-road dirt tracks in the depths of the valley, over shorter distances but challenging on every part of the car. You already screwed up one of them in one of the more rougher patches of terrain. It was out of the way. But at what cost? At the cost of my cheerios being spilt on the floor this morning. That's what.

Thankfully, you only had two more stages left for the day. Then the final two tomorrow. If your car managed to stay in one piece until then. Tough life out here.

You were currently on the second stage, driving down a dirt road just like the one that put you out of the race. Tight, soliciting and full of chicanes. You tried your hardest to keep the car on the road this time.

Half of the smooth grey asphalt already ended, leading into a curved forest path, sheltered entirely by dense pine trees on each side. The early afternoon sun peaked out through the branches, blinding you even through the laminated flaps on your visor, further adding to your irritation.

"4 left 50," spoke your co-driver, usually steady voice broken by the jolting path.

Medium corner in 50 meters. A little breather.

"2 right very tight over crest," he shouted, hand shooting up to the safety handle as you ran over a bump.

Very tight corner over the hill.

You accelerated up the hill, going airborne for a few meters before the car landed back down on the ground with a jarring wobble shaking you in your seat.

"1 left 100."

100 meters running up to the tightest corner.

A hairpin section in this hellhole after two taxing corners that pulled the car sideways brutally. Just what you needed. This was a no go drifting portion. The desire to go wide was so overpowering, but you couldn't push the limit. If you went the slightest into understeering the car, it was game over again. Another DNF. More points lost and even more damage on the car the current fund couldn't cover until you did some promotions.

Come on, honey, you rubbed the steering wheel in support, trying to get the car to listen to you. Stay with me. We're almost there.

Sure enough the dreaded hairpin section came into view faster than you could prepare for it. Up ahead, the road dove into lower ground to the right - a sharp C turn - harbored by a high hill lifting into greenery on one side and an excavated one that curled above the road with a few public stands on the other.

You cut the gas and tapped the brake just when you entered the slight curve of the curb, tyres skidding over the coarse gravel. It was tight as hell.

The forces of the momentum you gained on the straight portion pre-corner shoved you back in the seat so harsh you felt that turn with your whole body. Your forearms shook trying to keep control of the wheel in your hands, heaving breaths like crazy. Don Tanaka got squished to the door, belts working overtime to keep you both strapped safely. Your boot pressed to the floor with all your might to keep it near the pedals, rear at the back lifting up in the air.

Exiting the curve, you turned the wheel straight cueing the throttle back in way too fast. The tyres screeched horribly loud behind the car as you lost grip of the road.

"Fuck!"

The car took every incoming bump jerking you in all sides while you grappled with keeping it on course. You were going way too fast on wild ground, untouched by cement. You had to slow down. It would inevitably add more time to your lap that you can't make up anywhere on the rest of the course, but at least you wouldn't crash into a hill at 100 kmph or flip over in an area that was too inaccessible for marshals to come get you. You couldn't risk it.

Fuck this.

It wasn't up to debate. You let the throttle loose. A quick glance at your speedometer and your anxiety was quickly replaced by anger at seeing the speed decrease - 90, 80, 70 kmph. Way too slow. The heaps of bumps and craters scattered to smaller mounds, still threatening your safety, but they were manageable now.

Seething with burning rage, you let the speed decrease till it got to 50 finally gaining back full control of the car, then amped up the speed again, pressing the gas pedal to the floor. The engine roared alive under the hood, pumping fuel like a beast as it propelled you forwards at breakneck speed.

Now we're talking, baby.

"5 right 200 very long."

Easy wide corner in 200 meters.

You had some time to catch up there. Hitting the throttle again to increasing the speed even more you took it like a pro, drifting over the last off-road patch, sliding back on the straight asphalt. The crowd in the stands stood up, cheering loudly over the roar of the engine as you took the straight fast like lightning.

"Last one. 6 left 50. Flat out."

Flat corner in 50 meters. Take it fast Rai. Bring it home.

Taking the corner with a wide drift, the car finally reacted the way you wanted it to for once, gripping the road nicely. You gained an extra 20 on the exit, cutting off at least half a second on your lap time. If that even made up for the rest of the time you lost in those shitty corners.

The cheers got louder than the music booming over the speakers, crowds getting smoked by the dust you raised up in the air with that last drift. Before you knew it, it was all done. This stage anyways.

Who even picked this course? I hope they slip and fall in the toilet every time they go for a wee for the rest of the race weekend.

Driving back to the station, you parked the car neatly in place. Unfastening all the belts to ply your body away from the seat, you slumped against the wheel with eyes closed, letting out a long heavy breath you've been holding in for a while. The adrenaline in your body plummeted so fast it left you panting like you ran a marathon, trying to catch your breath and let out some built-up steam.

That was so nerve-wracking. No amount of training or racing over and over again would prepare you for the obstacles that can just jump at you out of nowhere. Obstacles that can very well end your career that barely even started.

Thanks to your quick reaction time, you avoided a lot of road hazards that could've sent you and Tanaka in flimsy hospital gowns. You did get control of the situation before it was too late, which was great. But some of those calls were way too close for your liking. So, so close.

"Hey," Tanaka piped up, gloved hand patting your back gently. You turned your still helmet-encased head at him. "You did good out there. Others would've let it crash in the side and pay for the damages, but you redressed the car back on track. It takes a lot to pull that off."

You pulled off the helmet, running a hand through your hair in frustration. You did almost crash. But you saved it. Because you had more stages left and no back up car for it. Because your father put way too much money into it to let it smash to pieces and pay for the damages. Because your co-driver's life was in your hands just like yours for that matter. There were so many reasons why you tried so hard to save it. Though none of them calmed that worry in the pit of your stomach that it could've been so much worse.

But you were a driver. Things like these were part of the job description. You can move on for a while but they'll always haunt you.

"Come on," he took your helmet. "Let's go see the scoreboard."

"I'd rather not," you smiled apologetically. "I'll go get some food. I could eat a week's worth of steak right now."

You were hungry as hell. But getting out of the car and away from the track for a bit was more of a priority and you hoped Tanaka would see past it. A therapy session about why shit happens sometimes was not what you needed right now.

"Okay," he chuckled. "Let me know if you need anything, lightning strike. I'll be around."

"Yeah," you nodded quietly more to yourself.

You got out of the car, passing a few smiles in sympathy to the team that got working on replacing the back bumper right away. Some of them patted your back in the same supportive manner.

On your way out of the station you passed by the screen displaying the scoreboard. You tried your hardest not to stop by but your eyes just fleeted there in curiosity. A curiosity that was left better unsatisfied.

Rai Suruki - 12th place - 1.53.07. Out of twenty. Not too bad all things considered.

Dwelling on it for a bit you tried to let it go. At least you weren't in the shoes of the one unlucky driver that ended up with a DNF at the bottom. Poor bastard- Wait. Getting closer to the screen to make sure your eyes didn't betray you, you read the line again in shock.

Naozumi Hiyama - 20th place - DNF.

Before it even registered in your head, the screen changed to replay the scenes right before disaster. You watched the distinctive blue hues on his car whizz by as he got past the first corners like an expert, lap time near perfect midway through the race. Until he drove into the tight corner that nearly broke your car in half. He took it just like you did, tight and miscalculated, unaware of the chaos on the other side.

What happened to you happened to him too - he lost grip on the back, taking on the uneven rocky bumps at full speed. All that knowledge of rally was thrown out the window in seconds as he struggled to keep the car under control. Then something even weirder happened - fumes leaped out from under the hood. Engine failure.

Instead of slowing down to prevent a crash and the engine from overheating more, he accelerated, hellbent on keeping the few points he gathered so far. What the hell was he thinking? The front tyres of his car took a high mound that sent him airborne landing right in the deep channel of the next corner, smashing the front into a hill portion. Nope, he wasn't thinking. That right there is idiocy.

The angry screech of tyres in the station next to yours sparked your attention. You peeked your head in at the side, bending over a tool table watching the chaos unfold. The front bumper cover was smashed into the car, like it just swallowed it up, along with a big part of the hood. Mechanics rushed over, struggling to get the hood open and cool the engine sending smoke through the broken cracks. Other staff ran around with fire extinguishers just in case the car caught fire.

Those were replaceable, already at the ready by the side. What wasn't replaceable was Naozumi's impending wrath about to rain down on the team like metal pikes.

Naozumi got out of the car boiling with fury, throwing his helmet off into the seat, smashing the door shut making the whole car shake at the impact. You looked back with pity at your little blue and gold princess, muttering I would never do that to you. Turning back, you caught him running an angry hand through the mess of his helmet hair, closing in fast on the same man he had a scuffle with just yesterday.

"Care to explain why I got an engine failure mid-race of all times?" he shouted at the mechanic, tongue pushing his cheek impatiently. He didn't really look like he expected an answer, simply wanting to vent off his own mistake.

"I told you not to push it. Not my fault you're too hardheaded to understand simple directions," he shouted back, having had enough of his tantrums.

"There's one more stage left today. If this happens again I will make sure-"

He struck a nerve with that unfinished sentence, making the taller man drop what looked like a new water pump for the engine right on top of the tool box with a loud clatter.

"Make sure of what exactly, your highness? Throwing me off the team? That didn't work the last time you tried, did it?"

Naozumi clicked his jaw and glared at him with all his pent up rage before he stormed off to his trailer to cool down. He didn't give a shit about the looks the people around fixed on him, and they didn't dwell for too long either, everyone scattering back to their jobs.

Seems like no one was taking today that well.

Padding around the vans lined up with all kinds of fast-food only dimmed your appetite. The good ones were closed for a break until the last race, which was in an hour. Your body needed the food so bad, you were willing to drive to a restaurant in the city, which was like two hours away. If only you had time.

Ready to give up, you spotted a nice looking bacon and ham sandwich at a shabby stand just on the side of the food court. Scouring over their window from a distance, it looked like the last one. Better than going back on an empty stomach.

You jogged up to order before anyone else could. Too engrossed in reaching the till you failed to notice someone slide in before you. Too late to pull the breaks, you collided into a hard shoulder, nearly losing your footing and falling face first on the ground. Strong hands gripped your upper arms to keep you upright just like you caught theirs in return.

Looking up, your quick apology got stuck in your throat. Two round chocolate balls gazed down at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. Those eyes could put chocolate to shame, glowing like priceless pralines, the special kind you eat once a year on Christmas.

Dark brown hair framed the side of his face, matted in messy waves. A pair of black sunglasses sat on top of it, pushing the front locks into small curls. Trailing your eyes downwards, you were greeted by two moles on the side of his face, right under his lower lip, stamped like two mini vampire bites. Cute. White fireproofs in darker logos stretched over his broad chest, complimenting his tan complexion so well. You were grateful for the strong hands that held your arms in a firm grip since your knees went a little weak.

Otherworldly was the only word you could find in the empty sea of your mind to describe this man. And not even that one did him justice. Not even close.

He seemed just as entranced by you, trained on your face for a while then swiping down your racing suit that was still done up to your neck, preserving all the heat of your previous ride as well as pulling the outside heatwave into it, turning into a body sauna. Or was it all coming from him? You couldn't tell.

His warm eyes searched your face with concern.

"Are you okay?"

Even his voice is beautiful.

"Huh? Me? Yeah, yeah. I'm good," you finally straightened letting go of him. "Are you uhh... good?"

"I'm good," he said, his palms loosening on you until they slid down, away from you.

"Good."

Placing your hair behind your ears out of nervous habit, you looked back at him, finding a smile so sweet on his face it could give you a sugar rush if you stared too long. Dear heavens.

"I don't think we've met before," he started extending a polite hand to you, smile fully popping with dimples now even though those moles on his chin eclipsed them fully. "I'm-"

"Akira Shinkai," you cut him off breathless, grabbing his hand in excitement. "You've been in Sigma Academy. You're also the youngest of the junior series that got picked to drive at a top team and you hold countless records on track. You're a legend," you said all of that in one breath.

His head dipped, ears going the smallest tint of pink, as did your cheeks at the realization that you were kind of fangirling over him big time. Who wouldn't if they had the chance to stumble upon rally royalty? Dad doesn't count. He's expired already.

"And you're Rai Suruki."

He knows my name.

"I saw your stage back there," he added.

All your excitement washed away at the mention of your near fuck up of a race.

"Yeah," you rubbed the back of your neck. "It wasn't my best."

"Are you joking?!" His chocolate orbs widened at you like you said something wrong. "That was some badass understeer maneuvering if I've ever seen any. You're the legend here."

Oh. That was unexpected. Getting complimented by one of the current best drivers in rally racing like you didn't step into the car just yesterday. It got your heart thundering in your chest, rising the blood to your cheeks once again.

"T-thank you," you cleared your throat looking away. "You did great too," you hit back remembering his insane lap time on the board. His smile only deepened at that.

"They do have some good sandwiches here," he pointed at the van behind you. By the looks of it, he was a regular at the stand. Even the older lady at the till gave him a smile in recognition that he reciprocated just as warmly.

"Too bad they only have one left," you sighed defeated, looking back at the lone sandwich.

"You can have it," he urged.

"No, I'm good," you waved him off. "I was craving something else anyway."

"You sure?" he quipped an eyebrow, not really buying your retreat.

Well, you did bump into him almost decking him over to buy it. Looking back and forth between his brown eyes and the deliciously packed sandwich on the other side of the glass window, bacon and salad leaves hanging so appetizing on the side of the bread, you nodded.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

No, you weren't sure. You were far from sure. But you weren't about to have the who gets the sandwich dispute. Passing him one last smile and another speedy apology for bumping into him, you walked off with your tail between your legs before he could argue.

That looked like the best sandwich on earth. Everything looks delicious to you when you're hungry, Rai. Well yeah, but that one might've tasted heavenly. Too late now.

You roved around the rest of the stands, trying not to breathe in too much of the smell of barbecued meat and fries and salad and all the delicacies that could be in your stomach already but lingered in the air instead. The other stalls at the end of the food court had insane long queues or no food available yet since they were still cooking the late batches.

I'll have more luck in the forest at this point.

A hand grabbed your arm out of nowhere. You were about to sucker punch its owner when you came face to face with Akira once more. He ducked out of the way and caught your fist before it could plant itself in his face.

"What-"

He held up the large bacon and ham sandwich between you as a sign of peace. "This sandwich is way too big for me to eat alone. Wanna share with me?"

"Are you sure? I don't wanna steal your lunch." You lowered your fist down. "We barely get to eat as is."

"Which is why you should have some before we're called back," he pushed it to you again, hopeful that you would accept his friendly offer. Before you could even debate it, your stomach grumbled loudly making him laugh. "I guess that settles it."

"Fine," you gave in.

You found a table off the radar just at the edge of the food court, beside a luscious green patch of dense forest, away from perpetrators like the press or the crew. Birds chirped around in the trees, sun shining so bright you were glad for the umbrella above. It was a little corner of quiet in the chaos. Akira sat down opposite you, pulling out a cup filled with fries to the brim out of thin air.

"Where'd you nick that from?"

"A fan gave it to me."

That must happen quite a lot if he just willingly accepted stuff. Was he sure it's not poisoned or something? Your stomach rumbled again in need of fuel. Ah well, might as well die by eating french fries.

Splitting the sandwich in half, you knocked the halves together like a toast and dove in. The soft baguette melted into your mouth along with the perfectly greased bacon, the squishy ham and the rest of the salad leaves and round tomato slices. It even had a nice sauce on the inside. He was right. They do make some mean sandwiches.

Shimmying out of your suit to cool off, you were left in your fireproofs, letting the breeze card through your hair, enjoying the food in sheer delight. The adrenaline rush came and went so fast back there on track that it took most of your energy with it. Filling up with food was the only way to restore it and if it was good food, you were guaranteed to get it all back quicker.

"This sandwich is so good," you mumbled with your mouth full.

"I told you," he mused through big bites of his own.

"Yeah, you did," you chuckled.

You both finished the food and sat in a comforting silence. Drawing random patterns in the wooden table, you felt this sudden need to find out more about the man before you. Though you weren't sure what to even ask since most of his information was out there thanks to his fangirls. By god, you weren't one of them, but you did know a lot about him. Okay, maybe more than a normal person should know about him, but alas.

Just when you mustered up a question he beat you to it.

"Have you been racing for long?"

"For about 8 years now. Started with karting, made my way through the juniors for a bit and some lower series and now I'm here."

"I bet it's nice having someone like your dad support you in it." He looked down at the scrunched up sandwich wrapper in his hands, passing it from one to the other with something akin to bitterness in his eyes that went away as quick as it came.

"It is," you nodded with a meek smile. "Most of the time anyway. It's hard trying to revive a dead team after so long but I'm trying my best."

"Are you trying for yourself or for him?"

That was a damn good question. You never thought about it in depth before. You jumped up at the thought of finally being helpful with something that you and your dad both loved with a strong passion. But was it for him, to make him forget the pain and move on from the past? Or was it for you and ensuring you had some kind of a better future doing something you loved? Beats me.

"I think maybe a bit of both?" you said, unsure of which one weighed more or less than the other.

"Eh, it doesn't really matter," he said softly leaning back to stretch his shoulders. "You've been here for two days and you're already showing results others would dream of having so early in their career. Give yourself some credit," he ended with a knock on the wooden table, pointing back at you.

You stared at him in awe. He really was so well-spoken. That and the fact he glowed like an angel with a missing halo above his head. Or maybe it was the afternoon sun shining warmly over him.

"Thanks," you replied sheepishly. "What about you? Why does Akira Shinkai race?"

He smiled looking at the ground and sat thinking for a while. You just looked at him soaking even more of his calm presence in. His chin laid on top of his palm, eyes peering off in the distance like you just asked him what he had for breakfast Wednesday last week. Then his eyes suddenly lit up.

"I want to become someone people look up to. I've always liked cars of all kinds and the minute I sat down in a go-kart I just knew I wanted to race. I guess I kinda wanted to feel that thrill on a daily basis," he chuckled at which you laughed a little too.

"Sureeeee, 'cause going at lightning speed on some of the most dangerous roads known to men multiple times a day is everyone's dream when they get in bed at night."

"Maybe it is. Who are we to judge?" he lifted his hands up in surrender making you laugh some more.

On the way back to the station, you both talked some more. About your hopes and dreams, your families, and the rest of the stages left. You both cursed the damn track that nearly totaled your cars and found out you had a lot in common. Behind that idol-like presences in the media, he was actually a very laid-back guy.

Coming up to your pen, he smiled warmly at you once more. That sweet, honey-dripping, serotonin-inducing smile. Talking to him put you in such good vibes that you forgot all about what made you upset before. Until you felt the energies shift for the negative at your back.

Whirling around, you came face to face with Naozumi. He seemed a tad bit calmer than before when he used his mechanic as an emotional punching bag, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. Spotting you, he threw that unnerving shit-eating grin on his face sending it your way with a small wave. All your good spirits warded off at the gesture.

You abstained from throwing him a middle finger in response settling on a scowl. Then his eyes went to your lunch companion, throwing him a way more conceited smile. Akira stiffened beside you for a moment, zeroing in on the other driver, before he turned back to you in a haste like he was suddenly in a rush.

"Good luck out there."

"You too."

"See you around," he bid you goodbye, regarding Naozumi with another loaded look before he went on his way.

You lingered by the team banner, watching his back retreat farther in the distance before it disappeared into his team's red and black pen at the end of the paddock lines. At least one of these men knew how to politely introduce themselves.

Spinning back, you caught Naozumi still behind you simply watching you with some kind of assertiveness that pushed your buttons. You wanted to ask if he needed help finding respect and manners when he just walked off to his own pen. Weird.

Walking to your car, you came face to face with Don Tanaka's sharp stare. What is it with men and staring today? His foot tapped the cement so fast you were sure it could drill a hole to the other end of the planet if he amped the speed just a tiny bit. It was the kind of staredown you get after going to a party with the popular clique, getting home past your curfew. The one that also meant your pocket money would cease their presence in your wallet for a month.

"What?" you gulped out, confused at being received so warmly.

"Why are you fraternising with the enemies?"

"Enemies?" you paused, even more dumbfounded. "I'm not following."

"Naozumi Hiyama and Akira Shinkai," he shook his head in disappointment. "Do I need to remind you we don't need press to jump on us and that your father kinda has a bad history with their teams?"

"Whoa, hold on. Rewind the CD. What do you mean by bad history?"

He walked you off to the deserted lounge area by the pen, making sure you were alone. In all the years you've known him, you've never once seen him this stressed. The man was a trainer. If anything, he was the stress.

"Sigma Racing's team principal used to race your father back in the day. They used to be sort of best friends, if we put it that way."

"What happened?"

"Once they got past the junior series, they both went after the same team and your father got picked instead of him. It all turned really sour between them after that."

"How sour are we talking?" you interjected. "Like gooseberries or those really sour gummy jellies that you choke on when the sugar bits get stuck in your throat?" He threw you a look asking for more seriousness. "Okay, continue."

"Sour in the sense that he tried to sabotage your dad every chance he got. Be it in racing or life itself. He never liked seeing him so successful, always living in the shadows of the second place on the podium, with his own racing, with his team, even with business. Being second to everything your father did got to him in the worst ways. Your father didn't even mean it to be that way."

"He tried to make amends, didn't he?"

Knowing your father he probably tried to mend that crack in their friendship until there was no more glue left in the world to put the pieces back together.

"Every chance he got. They were so close it was hard to even watch it fall apart from the sidelines."

Sounds like dad.

Rewinding back to the whole enemies part, you failed to see where Akira and Naozumi stood in this story.

"But Akira isn't related to that guy," you pointed out. "He just drives under him."

"Yes, but Sigma Racing didn't become one of the top teams in Japanese rally through genuine hard work," he sighed heavily. "A lot of people are unaware of this because they hid it well," he leaned in closer, warily looking left and right before continuing, "but they pulled a lot of strings to get to where they are today. Some of them not through the finest approaches."

You wouldn't question that information since Tanaka worked as a trainer for them for a while. But you did wonder just how much dirt he had on them. But that was a rabbit hole to dive into another day.

Okay, so Sigma Racing was red flagged before you even looked their way. Thankfully, no one knew you tried out as a ghost driver for them about a year ago or it would raise a scandal that would send your father to the intensive care unit. Throwing that to the side you went to the other walking red flag deemed as an enemy.

"What about Naozumi?"

"Well, not Naozumi directly, but Tsuzuki, Spica Racing's director. He used to be a shareholder in Suruki Racing before the team fell apart. He was your father's biggest sponsor, providing most of the parts for the cars. One day, right before chaos started raining down on the team, he retracted all his support just like that," he snapped his fingers, "out of nowhere."

"Without a notice?"

He shook his head. "None. He cut down all ties with your father without a solid reason."

"Okay, but Naozumi and Akira don't seem to have anything to do with this mess. It seems like more of an old generation battle we don't want to be part of."

"I really hope you won't get dragged into this mess," he rubbed the edges of his moustache. Something he did when he was really worried. "What I mean with all this is that I just want you to keep an eye out. Rally racing is a dirty world. You never know who's out to get you."

Great. Now I have to watch out for every breathing soul around me. Never a dull moment here.

A loud voice boomed over the surrounding speakers around the paddock, announcing that the next and last stage of the day starts in half an hour.

"Let's get you ready."

The last stage of the day went better than you expected it to. The course was a full tarmac one this time with really wide corners. You only had to look out for dips beside it where your rear could slip and get pinched, and the dangerous sharp corners where the crowds loved to gather like sacrificial lambs. The car held a lot better too, gripping the road firmly on all turns.

Without further damage on the car, you finished fifth this time around, sandwiched in between Akira and Naozumi on the scoreboard. The latter had another mishap in a turn nearly ending up in a ditch again. There were fumes coming out of his ears rather than the engine when he got out of the car, ready to throttle anyone in his way, but at least it wasn't another DNF to shatter some more of his pride.

Surprisingly, your father plied himself away from the office headquarters in the hotel and came down to the station to congratulate the team on their efforts. You waited at the end of the line, watching as he smiled and patted everyone's shoulders for the good work. When he came to you, he stopped, smile slightly falling around the edges.

You had a hot and cold relationship with him. Most times it was the latter, cutting icy through the days when you were in the car. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave you a squeeze in support then turned back to everyone. That was as much as you'd get for now.

"I know you all must be tired," he started, taking in the sullen faces around the pen. "But our official car show is on later tonight in the hotel events hall. Go rest, dress up and come have a drink on the house."

That damn car show. You would rather be anywhere else than interacting with more people. You kind of had your social battery drained out for the rest of the day and it was barely 5 pm. But you had to be there for your father and the team.

Shortly after, the team dispersed to each their own. You trudged back to the hotel and had a well-deserved relaxing shower, washing off the fumes and sweat. When you came out, you were met with a dozen shiny designer bags all over the floor and your bed, together with your extremely stressed PR Agent.

Kate Yuzumi, or Yuzu (how you called her when she became a stress ball about to explode into pieces), has been in charge of your press-related endeavours for as long as you've been racing. She lived a huge chunk of her life in the States, before her parents returned back with her in tow. Now in her late 20s, she worked under your father, managing every little detail about your public image. She was also your only female friend in an overtly masculine rally world, just like you were hers.

She was the best at her job. A lioness in the wild jungle occupied by so many tigers. But there were times where she let it eat at her sanity, like now for example. She ran a mad hand through her long amber hair, messing around the soft caramel highlights on top as she paced your hotel suite from corner to corner, scribbling down in her notebook in a very frustrating manner. One harder press of that ball point pen and she would put a hole through the lined paper.

You cleared your throat announcing your presence. She whirled around to you, eyes blazing in a frenzy.

"Finally, you're out," she breathed out in relief. "Any longer and I would've called reception to cut down the water supply in your room."

"Really funny," you narrowed your eyes at her. "What's with all this?" you nodded at the endless heaps of bags littered around the room. You walked to one of the closest bags, decked in baby pink and paper ruffles, digging your hand through it to pull out a shimmery black dress.

"You need to look your best tonight. It's the first car show the team is having in years and your father insisted you dress accordingly."

You let the material slip out of your hands with a disgusted look on your face. One that she caught right away.

"No sulking or trying to evade it, Rai." She came up to you and placed both of her hands on your shoulders. "You're the only driver Suruki Racing has. You represent the team and you need to be there tonight, as boring and daunting as you may find it. Your father needs you there," she said softly, rubbing her thumbs over the bathrobe you wore. You gave her a look telling her you weren't in the mood to be poster girl after today.

"It'll be over before you know it," she urged.

"Yeah right," you blew a raspberry. "Those things always last so long."

"Well, you are part of this world now. So, woman up and go take charge of it," she smiled brightly, sounding so encouraging that it lit up a spark of content in you.

Slumping your shoulders with a pout, you decide there is no point in fighting it. The last time you tried to avoid an official event by hiding in the team garage, your father grounded you by having Tanaka train you like you were getting shipped to a Bear Grylls episode the next day. The very skin on your bones hurt like you saw hell briefly after that. Not doing that one again.

"Fine," you gave in. "Help me pick something normal out of this hurricane of clothes. It looks like a unicorn puked in here."

"A very stylish one," she held up a finger.

She ushered you back to the bathroom, picking up a hair dryer, a few dresses laid out on your bed and some branded makeup bags on the way. "Come on, we're running out of time. The event starts in two hours and you're far from ready."

Dolled up rather uncomfortably, you made your way to the event hall. Your heels clicked against the dark floors, looking at the décor your dad planned - gold and blue was the theme present all around. From the tables to the chairs decked in light sparkles to the crystal bar at the right of the stage lit up in blue with rows of champagne glasses, the team colours were everywhere in elegant and deep tones. Your father had a thing for interior design even if he denied it. Tanaka always joked he could work in the field if he ever got tired of racing.

It wasn't long before the hall was filled with chatter. You didn't expect so many people to come. Most were probably curious about you rather than the car or your dad's attempt at trying to be the main event again. Press came early and took up a lot of space, likely hoping to get a scoop of info out of you. Even the team principals, some drivers and bosses of other teams made their presence felt.

Your dad was busy greeting the crowd, shaking hands with that golden boy smile plastered on his face at all times. You hardly even got a chance to see him this week. While you've been stuck in training, testing and racing, he's been hauled up in the conference rooms going over paperwork or talking business night and day. The few nights you did get together, you would sit at dinner and make small talk, keeping to each their own.

Ever since he started revamping the team, he drowned himself in it completely. Not body and soul like before, but quite close to a robot devoid of feelings. Like he needed to breathe that success back into it no matter what.

With a troubled sigh, you stretched a hand to the bar to grab a glass of champagne. Your co-driver joined you, a glass of white wine in his hand.

"Champagne should be for the podium," he teased.

"It should be for whatever I want it to be," you stated, taking a sip in small vengeance.

"And what is it for now?"

Tanaka rounded around you, leaning against the bar next to you. You just stared ahead at your father, taking a bigger gulp of the alcohol with bitterness. He smiled at the two of you in sympathy.

"Nothing," you smiled back in reassurance, focusing on the swirl of the mellow golden liquid in your glass.

"He'll come around. Just give him time."

You nodded, more to yourself. Hopefully he will do it before he runs himself into the ground from stress. To see me race and be a father sometime like we promised. Following him through the crowd, you spotted him still in his tracks losing the dazzling smile on his face for a moment and sure enough you saw why.

Right in front of him sat Sigma Racing's team principal. Raven-haired in a clean dark suit, about the same age as your father, just a little more battered by it. The crooked grin on his face resembled a scowl so alarming, even you got angry at the condescending look he gave your father. They both held each other in a strong gaze, filled with a lot of ire, tension from it drifting away to the rest of the hall till it reached even you by the bar at the back.

Your father extended a somewhat friendly hand his way. A luxury he probably didn't deserve. The other man simply looked at it, scrunching his dark brow in suspicion before he shook it with a firm grip. Some words were exchanged between them, by the looks of it not that peaceful then they let go of each other. Just when you thought the great Hiro Suruki couldn't be moved, he looked like a boulder bigger than him just shoved him to the side of the road. There had to be more than just bad blood between them.

Before you knew it the event was in tow. The classical music drew out to a minor background noise for a tap of the microphone grabbing everyone's attention. Your father finally took to the stage, letting his prepared speech roll off his tongue like charmspeak.

"Hello and welcome everyone!"

He was welcomed himself by a big round of applause. Huh, he still has it. Fixing the bowtie matching his beige suit he continued even more relaxed.

"For those who don't know me, shame on you," he chuckled and the crowd followed. You could see so many familiar faces in the audience, there would hardly be anyone who didn't know him.

"For those who do, thank you for supporting me all these years with good thoughts. Or bad. We accept those too." That drew another laugh from the crowd.

"After nearly ten long years, Suruki Racing is back in business and better than ever. We started again from zero, putting everything into a new car, keeping the old glamour of the team, bringing in new spirits," he spared you a glance. "We couldn't have done this without you, the team and the star driver representing us on track."

Oh, no, no, no. Please don't call me up on stage. Please let me sit on the sidelines. Please, please, please.

"Please welcome my daughter."

Fuck me. At least don't use the government name.

"Raiko Suruki, the lightning strike powering Suruki Racing."

He used the government name.

Throwing back the rest of your champagne, you went up the stairs floating on the sound of breaking applauses and joined him on stage with a smile matching his extremely bright and fake one. This was all for show. No one gave a rat's ass about it anyway. But out of politeness and respect for your father you went with it.

Camera flashes burned in your vision from all corners of the room, momentarily blinding you as the press snapped pictures of you. Once you reached him, he turned to you with a grin. "Would you like to do the honours?"

Going behind the curtains, you got in the freshly polished rally car and turned it on, greeted by the purr of the engine as you gave it a good powerful rev announcing its arrival before you drove it on stage. The instrumental music boomed again as you reached the crowd, trumpets carrying out over the noise of the engine. You gave it a few more revs to drown out that horrible music. Your father laughed nervously as he turned to you with gritted teeth, shooting you a look to cut it out before he spinned back to the public with a smile.

Getting out of the car, you went to get off the stage thinking that was all when he called you over again. Mentally groaning that you couldn't get back to the shadows of the bar faster, you turned back and headed for him. He took a few questions from the press while you sat by his side, looking pretty, zoning out in your own world. That was until the press started directing questions at you and the microphone was pushed in your hand.

"What-," you let out, the sound of your uncalibrated voice bouncing off the speakers with a screech. "Sorry about that," you laughed nervously. "What was the question again?"

"Why did you choose to race in your father's team?" asked a female journalist. "From your broad skill set and experience, you could've been picked by any other team on the grid."

A shit show. That was what this was.

"Uhm," you paused, trying to think of something smart to say. Kate didn't really prepare you for this. You scanned the crowd, catching her figure by the bar at the far left. She rolled her hands around motioning you to just talk. Just wing it.

"I wanted to stay within the family business and help dad," you looked over at him giving him a sweeter and truer smile than the crowd could ever pull out of you, "get his dream up and running again. Suruki Racing means the world to him and it means the world to me to see him happy."

At that, his features softened and he looked like your dad for once tonight, under all the spotlight and glamour. He mouthed a subtle "Thank you" under his nose that you caught when you looked back at him. "Always" you mouthed back.

Thinking that was all, you prepared to pass the mic back to him when another reporter shoved a question your way.

"Why did Suruki Racing choose a female driver out of the wider talent pool out there?" asked a male reporter this time, his gaze piercing through you with something utterly similar to distaste.

Even the public turned their eyes on him, appalled at the tone but just as curious at the answer he would receive, focusing back on you.

One - he was clearly implying that you didn't have a talent for driving, comparing you to the other people in the junior series who were all predominantly men. Two - he was making it even more obvious that females didn't belong in the sport from the way he accentuated the words female driver like it was a bad omen. Three - the way he asked the question made your skin crawl with hot blood.

Before your dad could take your mic and reply to the question that was obviously meant for you, you lifted it back to your lips and stared the man down with all your might.

"Suruki Racing didn't choose me," you seethed, calm and collected. "I worked my ass off for it until I got good enough for the sport to accept me."

A few heads in the crowd nodded in acknowledgment at your words. It was hard to get into a rally team for everyone, not just women. But the reporter still wasn't satisfied with your response and he made that clear with his next affirmation.

"That doesn't answer my question," he shot back, obviously trying to get a reaction out of you.

Prove them wrong, echoed Tanaka's words in your head. Don't let them get to you. Keeping your composure level-headed without giving him the satisfaction to see your rage, you replied.

"Suruki Racing picked me out of the wider talent pool out there because I proved myself to be a capable rally driver."

"A capable rally driver doesn't put the car in a ditch mid-race," he argued, still not backing down.

This dude was looking for a bone to pick with the wrong dog.

"No," you countered. "A capable rally driver gets third place first time on the job and overcomes challenges rather than giving into them like most of your very talented idols must be doing."

He threw his head back, barking a laugh so irritating it got harder to keep calm and carry on being civil.

"That was just pure luck."

"Pure luck will not be my foot through-" your face, you wanted to say but stopped.

You leaned towards him a bit too menacingly, forgetting that everyone else was kinda there, watching it all unfold. Waiting for you to step wrong. He didn't deserve the mercy for that potty mouth of his. But this was too public to cause a scene. Straightening back, you coughed awkwardly.

"Through the gas pedal each race. I'm here to compete for Suruki Racing and I will do so until the team no longer wants me."

With that you shut him up and handed the mic back to your father who nodded at you in contentment.

"I think that was all for our Q&A session. Please enjoy the rest of tonight and good luck in tomorrow's stages!"

Finally off the stage, you went back to the bar and hogged a few more glasses of champagne. Thinking this was just the beginning and much worse awaited you was unnerving to say the least. You were downing your third glass when jet black hair appeared in your peripheral vision. Looking over you found a really amused Naozumi peering right back at you. He checked you out shamelessly, letting his dark eyes browse you from top to bottom.

Kate picked out a midnight blue satin dress for you, hugging your curves in all the right places, with a huge back drop exposing your behind. A semi-precious trail of shimmering stones fell down your back from where the straps were joined, all the way to your lower back where it connected with the rest of the dress. Your hair was pulled into a braided bun, little side pieces framing your face softly. You looked less like yourself and more like one of those models he hangs out with on the usual.

Letting your eyes do the same, you lingered on his own attire. He wore a navy suit tailored to his body a bit larger than his tight racing suit, giving him a broader form but still rounding around his bulky biceps with a strain. His hair was no longer a messy bird's nest from the helmet, fixed into a neat hairstyle. His dark strands sat so thick and orderly in small waves, it was hard to believe this was the same hair those heavy hands rove through like it was an Olympic sport.

The man could really look his million dollar smile when he wanted to.

"Didn't think you'd be here tonight," you mused, playing around with the champagne in your glass.

"I kinda have a thing for public humiliation," he beamed, giving you that smirk reserved for the masses of ladies waiting to fall at his feet.

Some of them already clocked him next to you, batting their mascara filled eye lashes at him in thirst for a piece of him. You wondered how it felt being one of them. So smitten and drawn to him like he wasn't the biggest red flag on earth.

"Oh well, I would say you came to the right place for that." You took a bigger sip from the glass, letting the dry bubbly liquid run down your throat. "But you do that after every race by yourself anyways, no offence."

"None taken," he replied, leaning on the bar to browse the bottles on the racks illuminated by led lights.

Surprised that he didn't argue on that observation like it was his nature to, at practically every single thing that annoyed him, you regarded him once more. He seemed oddly calm. Maybe way too calm. But then again, you met the guy like a handful of times. You didn't know him that well. Maybe he had his good and bad days and the ones on track were the bad kind.

He looked like a tough nut to crack. He definitely had more layers than the racing suit he wore. And if anything, Naozumi Hiyama was a puzzle you were better off leaving wrapped up on the shelf for now.

His deep voice cut through the animated chatter around you, grabbing your attention once more.

"That was really ballsy back there, rookie," he said with a wry smile.

He was talking about your near assault on that reporter that was looking for a tabloid story. He watched the exchange from the back of the hall with slight irritation himself. If that was him in your shoes, he would've punched the guy multiple times just to get all his questions out in a more productive way.

"One more word and I would've kicked his balls to Narnia."

A deep chuckle rumbled out of his throat at that. You knew what you signed up for coming into this world and he respected that. Some of the fuckers that have been here for longer didn't even have that decency.

He eyed the glasses of champagne next to you, stacked high in several pyramids. You moved to the side thinking he wanted one. He shook his head, asking the bartender for whiskey on the rocks instead. It suited him much better than champagne for some reason. Just like whiskey, there was this strong hit about him at first sight, so smooth and raw with his words, that blended into a surprisingly bittersweet aftertaste just like his smile. The ice crashing in the glass only added to that hard exterior he put up for the world.

You were curious if he was this icy with everyone. Was his interior just as arctic and brutal to someone who made the effort to get through to him or was Naozumi Hiyama an impenetrable iceberg that sunk all the ships of amicable intent? And now you were curious about the very devil you were warned to stay away from.

Get your bearings around, Rai. He's danger in far more ways than you can think of.

"Champagne is only for podium," he piped up.

"Ah, not you too," you rolled your eyes.

Was it a men thing that you weren't aware of? Why did you have to celebrate something huge to pop open a bottle of champagne?

Last time I checked, whiskey was more expensive than champagne.

"Tradition is tradition," he simply shrugged.

"Is it bad luck or something?" you leaned over with interest, trying to gauge out the meaning of this weird tradition. Or rather the meaning it held for him.

He lifted up his raven eyes from the drink, glass steaming at the contact with his warm hand. Pointing them with measured grip on your own, the corner of his lip tilted up in experienced manner. Like he's seen the worst of it if he gave in to the will of Dionysus with so much as a small sip of champagne before the big day. You didn't take him for a superstitious person until now. But that look told you he was its victim many times. Who would've thought that Naozumi believes in karma.

"Don't jinx what you don't know," he stated, like a silent mantra he recited to himself all the time.

To beware the unknown and leave it to fate. Control what you know, not what you don't. Just like your pre-race ritual.

Maybe you were more alike than you thought. Not temper wise. He won that part fair and square with the outbursts he had after nearly every race. But in other parts of common ground. You wondered what else was silently shared between you.

Before you could peer more into the wild force of nature beside you, you were joined by another one, much more brighter and cheerful than the storm at your left, but still as deadly as a tornado behind the wheel.

"There you were," interjected a soft voice from your right.

Akira joined in the conversation, briefly regarding Naozumi with a smug grin. You gave Akira a small smile, turning back to find that Naozumi made himself scarce with his glass of whiskey by the time you looked from one to the other. He had this weird habit of waltzing in and lighting up all your curiosities then leaving just when you were about to satisfy them. Browsing the crowd for him, you found no trace of him.

"Here I am," you replied back, brushing off the meek interaction with the other man. "Were you looking for me?"

The music slowed to a slow melodious tune that stabbed your ears painfully. Curse your father for his very bland taste in music. You'd expect more from someone with a golden earring that blasts Metallica every morning as his alarm. He wanted to look good to the world but this was actually how he killed all excitement. Not that this event even had excitement in the first place. Unless you counted your stage debut for an entertainment moment.

A few couples in the crowd took to the dance floor, swaying lightly on their feet. Team principals with their wives, mechanics with their spouses, a few drivers and their model girlfriends too. They drew each other close, dancing on the tempo of a slow mellow waltz. You never understood what it was about slow music that was so alluring to people and drew them together to hold each other so close. For one moment where they danced like their souls connected, they forgot everything about their problems and the reality of the life we were all living. Not running at full speed. Simply just being.

"I have been looking for you," said Akira, rather excited about something.

He offered his hand to you in the most gentlemanly way someone of the opposite gender ever did towards you. The kind of gentleman you see in those princess movies, where the girl gets whisked away by the nicest guy, golden carriages and diamond tiaras included. You swore you could see his eyes sparkle like stars lost in the resolute distance of the night sky. Or it was just the drunken haze of the champagne talking.

"Would you care for a dance?"

He asked so softly with that dizzying smile of his that it made your knees weak.

Dancing with the Akira Shinkai? A hallucination surely.

There was no way this prince charming came out of nowhere and asked you, a nobody yet, to dance. That and the fact that you weren't even supposed to be talking to him, considering everything Tanaka told you. Plus the previous heated interaction between your team leaders. A heavy mix of feelings that kinda weren't yours, but your father's.

"Okay," you yelped.

Okay? Rai Suruki. Akira Shinkai of Sigma Racing asks you if you care for a dance and you say okay?

He led you to the edge of the dance floor, placing his hands around your waist to pull you closer. You weren't sure what to do with your own, setting them against his chest for now. He swayed you side to side to the slow music. You focused on his deep brown eyes, getting sucked into their void with each sway. They were so big and round.

Conversation, Rai. Make some conversation.

"Thank you for the sandwich earlier today."

Great. 'Cause talking about sandwiches is conversation.

"No problem. I saw it got you a few places up the board."

"But it brought you down a few," you looked up at him, feeling a little responsible for that.

On the crescendo of a soft violin aria, he spun you out, bringing you back in closer than before. Your hands weren't pressed to his chest anymore, but circled around his shoulders to keep your balance. Your faces were so close that your breaths were nearly brushing off each other's lips. When did he get so close?

His lips parted catching the attention of your eyes instantly. Those were some delicious rosy lips if you've seen any. Get a grip Rai. Mentally scolding yourself for the inadequate direction your thoughts were going in, you focused back on his eyes. Though even that was a mistake.

"If anything, it wasn't half a sandwich that made me lose places," he chuckled, eyes crinkling into crescent shapes. "This tour is so complicated. I hate it with a passion."

"That I can agree with," you giggled.

The song changed to a really sad tune, slightly upbeat violin changed for the sorrowful piano in the back, drowning out every bit of energy you had left for the day just like that. That's it. If this continued any longer, you'd fall asleep standing.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?"

Heading for the dj booth on top of the stage, you climbed up the steps careful not to trip in your heels and cause yet another scene. You walked behind the dj and nudged his shoulder. He put down his headphones wondering what it was you wanted.

"For the love of god, please change the playlist," you asked, prying your hands together.

He looked at you briefly, thinking he'd get away with just a song request from you. Too bad he just met the one person in this room who didn't mess around when it came to music.

"This is what Mr. Suruki said to play," he spoke over the track, moving to put his headphones back up when you nudged him again. You weren't leaving until he changed the disk. Even if it involved violence.

"The crowd is dying out there," you motioned to the public that was genuinely exhausted and bored out of their mind. "Here," you fished out your phone and connected it to his laptop before he could complain about you hogging his deck, pulling up a file on his laptop and downloading it. "Play this mix."

"Won't that get me in trouble?"

"I'll make sure he pays double."

That seemed to convince him. He gave the mix a quick listen through his headphones, eyes widening at the music choice. Even his face brightened as he gave you a thumbs up.

You walked off the stage going back to join the small crowd. A few moments passed and the sorrowful instrumentals faded into energetic electronic dance beats. People sitting around the tables moved back on the dance floor, this time getting into it better than soft waltz music could make them dance. The lights dimmed to a steep blue, letting a light show peak through. You successfully turned the event hall in a club.

You got back to Akira, a knowing smirk on his face.

"You are full of surprises, Rai Suruki," he grinned.

You bopped your head to the beat, moving your hips in sync with the music, feeling awakened rather than half-asleep. The alcohol finally pumped through your body along with the deep bass, sending the blood in your veins running like waves on an open sea. Your hands latched back on Akira's making him move with you in languid moves.

"Just wait till you get to know me better," you yelled over the music.

He snorted at you with a shake of his head, that turned into a full laugh carrying over the music. You made Akira snort. Double points in the charisma book. He whirled you around, back crashing into his chest. A confident hand sneaked around you to pull you closer by your waist, now moving hip to hip to the song. His lips brushed to your ear without warning.

"This dj is so good," he whispered, sending chills down your spine.

The whole mood shifted around you with the next song, so full of life and energized. Some people in the crowd yelled the lyrics, throwing their hands in the air. He seemed to enjoy himself too as the man on the deck pumped up the speakers even louder, letting the mix boom out and rouse the spirits.

You simply nodded with a small smile. The dj was good for sure. That and the fact that he was kinda dancing with her.

Showered once more, to get rid of all the makeup, and in the comfort of your loose nightwear, you finally dove head first into the bed like a submarine submerging in the depths of the mattress, snuggling your head into the silky pillows on the bed. Your silky soft pillows that you packed everywhere you went. Who trusts those hard hotel deadlifts under their head? Not what you wanted to lay on after being pushed around in a sports two-seater the size of a space capsule.

Getting comfy under the covers, you let out a sigh of content at the warmth enveloping your body in each and every neatly tucked in corner under you. You closed your eyes, willing mother sleep to take you into her loving arms and lull you into deep, restful slumber.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day with the last round of the Tokai track and you could use better points after today's performance. Going for podium wasn't even in the cards yet. The car had better days ahead of it. You had to keep from pushing it more than necessary. But the points could help you catch up.

The lights dimmed down in the room, the jungle outside the hotel ceased riveting and it was just peace and quiet. Perfect, serene and silent.

You were barely hanging on the last brink of consciousness when something rattled against the wall behind your head. Your eyes flew open checking around the room and the headboard to be met by the quiet pitch black again. The headboard was still where it should be, no sign of anything that could move it. Shrugging it off, you crashed back into your pillows and tried to go back to sleep.

Until you heard that sound again. And again. The third time, it was accompanied by an awfully female voice struggling to moan. What the fuck? It grew quiet again, then all of a sudden you could hear her loud and clear, pushing that really annoying mewl out of her throat in sync with the banging in the wall. Pulling your other pillow over your ears, you tried drowning the lewd sounds out but it only proved futile as the minutes on the nightstand clock passed and she was still struggling to commit to one fucking tone to come to.

For the ever-loving shit of sleep.

Throwing away the covers, you left the amazing comfort of the bed and wore your slippers. You flung the door open, marching down the corridor to the room next door. The moaning was even louder out here, bouncing off the walls like it was played from speakers. You stopped in front of the door, banging on it with bubbling annoyance at being denied sleep due to someone prioritizing their funky time more than the peace of other people under the same roof.

All sounds stopped upon your angry knocks. Crossing your arms over your chest, you blew out a breath waiting for the resident of the room to open the door. Then it dawned on you that you weren't sure just what you were going to tell them and how they were going to react.

Would they make it a big deal that you cockblocked their big night? Hopefully not. What if they deck you in the wall for interrupting? You looked behind at the hard wall decorated with a lamp and gulped. I have martial arts training.

You tapped your foot anxiously thinking of an amicable solution when the door finally pried open revealing an almost naked Naozumi, wearing only a pair of black briefs that sat way too tight around his jewels for your liking. You choked on air. Dear lord. Your jaw dropped somewhere to the first of lava at the center of the earth as you took him in.

His neatly arranged jet black hair was now a thick mess straying in all sides from possibly being grabbed at with womanly strength. Only a woman hungry enough for a taste of him would do that kind of mess. Something stirred deep down inside of you at the sight. You didn't like it one bit.

Your eyes trailed down his exposed torso taking in every ridge of muscle from his toned pumped up pecs, the carved squares of his abs that might as well be the best washboard you've ever seen, to his veiny biceps curling around his middle before you could take a peak at what lay beneath his belly button as he leaned on the door frame.

Heat crawled up your neck the longer you stared at him unable to tear your eyes away. By god was he handsome. And hot. Hotter than hell could ever burn.

He watched your shameless perusal, making sure to catch the pink tint spreading across your cheeks and the way your tongue swiped over your bottom lip in thinking, things at which he chuckled lowly. Openly checking him out like this was unlike you and he was curious just how far you'd take it if he just let you. Testing it out, he unraveled a hand away, watching your eyes instantly latch on his lower abs like a cat jumping after a laser. He shifted on his legs, causing the muscles on his waist to bend on one side and stretch on the other. He was so broad and big, it overwhelmed you.

You knew he was packed just from sneaking glances at those white fireproofs, catching them strain underneath with each move of his body, but this was next level. You looked at the power nestled between his meaty thighs and swallowed a thick gulp of air, reeling back up his body. Sweat glistened on the trunk of his neck under the flickering light of the corridor - a clear product of what he was up to before you interrupted.

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall brought you out of your daze like a truck hit you at full speed, then rammed over you again backwards.

You were in the hallway of the rally teams hotel, looking at a very naked and sweaty Naozumi. You cockblocked Naozumi Hiyama of all people. The playboy extraordinaire. You'd be lucky if you got out of this unscathed. Or with your braincells intact because the longer you stared at his abs or the dip in the crook of his neck you lost a huge amount of them.

"Can I help you?" he asked, irritating smirk that's been slowly getting under your skin bright as day on his face.

"Yes," your voice came out on a broken pitch. You cleared your throat trying again more sure of yourself. "Yes you can."

You struggled to look away. It was physically impossible to when he looked like one of those ivory sculptures of naked Greek gods you see in museums. Though he wasn't fully naked like them. Okay, let's lose the word 'naked'.

Your train of thought got stopped by his smooth voice, slightly tinted with amusement.

"What is it I can help you with?"

That seemed to oil your brain back to work.

"Can you stop moaning so loud? Some of us are trying to get some sleep," you looked him dead in the eye.

"That wasn't me," he said, moving to the side slightly.

You got a view of his own hotel bed, pillows and clothes scattered across the floor in heaps, graced by a woman on top of it tangled in nothing but a white sheet. She softly waved at you. Before you knew it, you waved back with a nervous smile, too entranced by her beauty. Her long platinum blonde hair cascaded down her collar bones, complimenting her tender milky skin and petite form so well. Adding her bright smile to it, you could swear you just saw an angel from heaven. She is way out of his league.

"Are those Lightning McQueen pajamas?" asked Naozumi rather confused, pointing to your nightwear.

Your nightwear had the face of the popular Cars character in the middle of your long sleeve top. The pants had several miniature versions of it, checkered flags and the iconic golden Piston Cup, all over them on red background. A Christmas present from Tanaka you adored. Well, not anymore, considering you currently looked like a toddler sitting before two bare deities.

Your hands shot out to try and cover most of it but it was no use. He already saw it all, including your Mater slippers sized to scale, hugging your ankles better than any pair of boots could, and he was simply just smiling at you. There was a curiosity about you in his eyes. The same one you had about him.

You cleared your throat, embarrassed in a dozen different ways, looking forward to hitting the bed and sleeping.

"Just fuck quietly or something."

The woman behind him called his name softly. He turned back around to the beautiful angel waiting for him. Even her voice was angelic. Seriously, what was she doing with this excuse of a man? By the earlier sounds of it and the sight before you now, he clearly was the one who struggled to satisfy her.

"What did she say?" she asked.

He rolled back to your form in the hallway and just smirked at you, uttering the next words like they weren't dripping with the most sinful implications.

"She said you weren't loud enough."

A scarlet red hot tomato package on a ketchup bottle. That was how furiously you were blushing right now. Those words weren't even directed at you but at the woman behind him. Though you couldn't help the flurry they started in your belly since he looked at you so intensely when he said them.

"Really? Why doesn't she join us?" she asked excitedly sitting up on the bed.

His smirk turned into a full toothy grin at that remark.

"Right? Why don't you join us?"

I'm out of here.

Not staying longer for the incoming teasing attack at your already crumbling sanity, you started making your way back to your room in shame, his laugh booming behind you. You threw him the middle finger this time only making him laugh harder.

Please choke on her pussy and die.

You closed the door and sped-walked to the bed, getting back under the covers, sighing at the warmth still preserved under the big heavy duvet. Since it was quiet again, you thought it all stopped. Until the previous strangled moans turned louder and louder and the rattle in the wall turned into a full rhythmic bang, fully shaking your own bed with you in it.

I'm going to fucking kill him.

🏎️ Glossary of terms and other useful information 🏎️

Stages - A rally consists of several stages over the course of three days, usually at the end of the week. These are series of timed races where the drivers take on different portions of track in the selected area of the race region. There can be 2-4 stages in a day, stretching over 20-50 kilometers.

DNF - Did Not Finish. When a car does not finish the race due to falling off the track. You either hit the gravel, spin out with understeer, or hit a road hazard. Basically anything that can get you out of the time frame of completing the track stage.

Pace notes - Taken by driver and co-driver on a ride along the course pre-race stage (also called a recce for reconnaissance). They point out road hazards and corners that the driver isn't able to see during the fast race. Example: 5 left over crest - hill portion approaching.

Oversteer - Happens when there's too much power applied than the tyres can take, making the car slip and push in the other direction of the turn. Balance is important here.

Understeer - Happens when the car turns less than you want it to in a corner. For example, you force the steering wheel to the left too briskly and the car doesn't turn entirely. The tyres screech and lose grip.

Overdrive is based around the fictional Asian SEIKO Cup Rally Series, mostly focused on Japan. Tour de Tokai is the 3rd round out of 13 rounds in the calendar, taking place right at the beginning of the movie. The champion of the series is determined by the total number of points accumulated at the end of the series, advancing to the World Rally Championship!

Thank you for reading! Please leave a note, comment or reblog :)

#runaway 🏎️🏁#naozumi hiyama #naozumi hiyama x reader #naozumi x you #akira shinkai #akira shinkai x reader #overdrive fic #overdrive mackenyu

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pillow-anime-talk · 1 year ago

Note

8. “Bring your ass over here. I wanna some cuddles (or kisses, both if its okay).” -samatoki🍭

# tags: scenario; current relationship; cute romance; fluffy shit; living together; work!au; ooc!samatoki; text messages; sfw

includes: female reader ft. samatoki aohitsugi {hypmic}

author’s note: thanks again lollipop anonnie!

8. “Bring your ass over here. I wanna some cuddles and kisses.”

The afternoon shift was by far the most boring, tedious, full of unwillingness to live and longing for the warmth of you and your partner’s apartment (and that pleasant smell of his cologne he used since you gave him his first bottle on your second Valentine’s Day).

Just as the morning shifts seemed to make the most sense (and you still had the whole day to yourself so you could go for a walk, go to the doctor, or even meet up with friends), the 2 or 4 p.m. shifts were really stupid for you; you walked like clockwork all the time so you wouldn’t be late for work, and you ate lunch in a hurry – often alone – and cleaned your apartment as if you were in a race, hoping to catch the bus or subway to your office; you worked in a modeling company and specialized in choosing outfits for models from around the world. You also often helped the photographers and talked to star managers or parents of child actors, asking about the preferences of their pupils.

It was Friday and all you dreamed about was coming home, a hot bath in a bathtub filled to the brim with white foam, something warm to drink, e.g. tea with honey and lemon or milk chocolate with a pinch of cinnamon, a bowl of your favorite fruit with muesli and natural yogurt and an episode – or maybe three – of your favorite series. Unfortunately, instead, you were forced to choose colors and accessories for your Monday clients. You’ve been given the tough task of combining light jeans, brown leather and rose gold.

At some point, your phone vibrated, and due to the fact that you were alone (except for Mrs. Yuu – the cleaning lady who has been working for the company for over twenty years – and your dearest female friend who was on another floor of the building), you quickly unlocked the phone, smiling under nose.

toki toki; yo, bring your ass over here. i wanna some cuddles and kisses. now. please.

A light giggle escaped your lips and you just shook your head. You had a little over two hours left on your shift, plus you had to allocate another half hour to get back to your small apartment. You also wanted to stop by the night shop for some food on the way, but you definitely didn’t have the energy for that. You have decided to go to the supermarket tomorrow due to the long-awaited weekend, and thus a day off from work and professional obligations.

you; i want to hug and kiss you too, but i’ll see you in three hours :( i can’t leave early today, i did it a week ago...

You reluctantly looked at the monitor, sighing and resting your chin on your left hand. The night time definitely did not help at work. Moments later, you heard another incoming message.

toki toki; quit that dumb job, i make enough money to support us, you know that, bunny

You just sent a smiling face with heart-eyes emoji in response, then put your smartphone away from view. You had to focus on your duties; only after the shift was over could you think about Samatoki and other pleasures.

#—🎉#quote prompts #prompts challenge #4k followers #4k special #prompt 8 #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic scenarios #hypnosis mic imagines #hypnosis mic x reader #hypmic #hypmic scenarios #hypmic imagines #hypmic x reader #samatoki aohitsugi #samatoki aohitsugi scenarios #samatoki aohitsugi imagines #samatoki aohitsugi x reader

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violetvelourr · 1 year ago

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A little bit of whining venting

I’ve spent 3 hours today trying to draw something. Anything…. I have plenty of sketches and I tried linearting several but nothing worked out, they were just straight away hopelessly ugly.

At moments like these I feel like I’m a complete fraud because one week I’m totally fine and then the next one I can’t do shit.

But in fact it’s been like that for a while now - we are halfway through August and I’ve only managed to finish one artwork which was in line art stage already back in July. So strictly speaking I haven’t produced anything this month yet. ‘Melancholic Arina’ is stuck in the face/hair phase, I spent two evenings trying to draw her body and arms with no progress. And there should also be Kakashi in that artwork which is also not going to be easy.

Today in one of the lineart attempts I couldn’t even draw Kakashi’s hair though I had zero issues with that part of him for a long time already 🤯 like it was always the easiest and most enjoyed part for the past 6 months or so…

I’m in mild despair because no matter how much I repeat to myself that it’s alright to not always be in the high (after all, July was rather productive with 7 artworks), I still think about it all the time, like I’m not doing anything and time goes on, and I am stressed because I feel like I have forgotten how to draw and even more stressed because I try to draw and just fail again and again. But I have to keep trying because I’m afraid that if I’ll stop now to give myself a break it will be again 10 years like the previous time. 🤦🏼‍♀️ and the cycle repeats. Trying. Stressing out. Trying. Stressing out…

I’ll change my screen protector tomorrow perhaps - could be the fact that it’s way too slippery - now that the ‘paperlike’ protector is completely worn off - is affecting my ability to control the line. I know that with writing the feel of the pen affects my writing a lot. Maybe here it’s a similar thing… Also I want to do something that always seemed to help me reset my artist anxiety a bit - redraw some anime scene in my style. Suggestions for the scene are welcome, by the way…

But if that doesn’t help, I don’t know anymore. I haven’t had it hit me that bad in a while, I even cried today because of it. 😖 I didn’t even cry that much when my previous artwork got corrupted 🤯

The problem is that my motivation is not as high as it used to be. Previously it helped me get through my tough times. I was driven by inspiration. I hardly have it left now, unfortunately… and the recent events killed the spirit off even more… 😔

Anyways, another day wasted, off to bed… 😖

#artist struggles #venting #just a phase I’m going through

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timeoverload · 5 months ago

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Today felt like it was never going to end. It didn't start very well. I woke up at 2:30 again this morning because I was having another coughing fit. I drank too much water before bed last night and I didn't prop myself up. I should know better by now but laying flat is a lot more comfortable. It's so hard to get comfortable in this bed as it is. I really need to get my acid reflux under control but that's probably not going to happen until I start eating a more balanced diet. It took me 45 minutes to stop coughing so that was annoying. I was so mad because I was sleeping really well until that happened. I think I fell back asleep around 3:30. I had some weird dreams about being at work in the dark again. I woke up at 5:30 which is later than I like to get up. I only had 20 minutes to lay in bed before I had to start moving so that sucked. I don't like having to move right away so that made me grumpy.

Unfortunately I felt like a zombie all day. I wanted to go home so bad. I felt disoriented and hungover but I haven't had alcohol in a long time. Caffeine didn't help at all. I was trying to avoid having lengthy conversations with people because my brain wasn't working. I am still feeling out of it but I feel better than I did this morning.

I also wanted to go home because my rib is bothering me and my back hurts. I have nothing to relieve my pain and I should be used to it by now. My rib was clicking more today and I think I irritated it when I was coughing this morning. It is feeling more tender in that area. It's hard to tell exactly where the popping sensation is coming from. I know it is most likely somewhere between my 8th and 12th rib. Ribs 8-10 are more susceptible to damage because they aren't connected to the sternum. They are connected to each other by cartilage. I don't think my rib got messed up initially by coughing because I don't remember having this issue after my last asthma attack. I think it's from lifting heavy pans and pushing and pulling carts all day. I also remember I was carrying a pan in decontam one day and accidentally running into the sink with it and jabbing myself in the side of my gut so maybe that has something to with it. I felt like I got the wind knocked out of me when I did that. I also have arthritis and I probably have vitamin deficiencies and that's taking a toll on my body so I'm more prone to injury. I just feel so beat up and sometimes I feel like I am rotting. I am glad I'm not having any other breathing issues so I don't feel like this is an emergency. I know that it's not dislocated completely otherwise I would be in a lot more pain. I don't notice it as much when I am resting. I am still planning on getting it checked out and I hope I can wait until Friday.

I still don't think I should be working but I am afraid to call in for some reason. I might tomorrow if I feel bad still. I always feel so guilty about it and I'm afraid I am going to get in trouble or something. I hate that I have more health issues than everyone else because it's embarrassing. I don't want to use my PTO. I know that I won't have enough left to cover my day off on the 25th if I do that because I would want to take more than 1 sick day. I don't want to use FMLA because it makes me feel trapped there. I don't know what to do. I just want to take care of myself. I don't want to be tough anymore.

It was a really busy day for me as usual. I don't even remember how many cases I had. I haven't been paying attention to that as much because I just expect there to be a lot to do all the time now. The days just blend together. Nothing too crazy happened. I had to stay 20 minutes late so I wasn't thrilled about that.

I ate breakfast but I didn't eat lunch because the cafeteria smelled like cat food since they were serving salmon. I picked up food on my way home but I got way more than I should have and I couldn't finish it. I feel so gross now.

The heat is also unbearable. My car didn't start to cool down until I was almost home. I hate this weather and I don't want to be outside at all.

I don't have much else to talk about. I am so sleepy and I need to relax now. I already got ready for bed so I don't have anything else I need to do so that's good. I'm going to try not to stay up late. I hope I feel more alive tomorrow and that it's a better day.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow. Thanks for listening. 💖💖💖

#personal

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ryanlewisandclark · 6 months ago

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So there’s a nest of baby bunnies in one of my larger flower pots from last year. (I tend to leave them out over winter so the dead stalks of the tomatoes and such can be homes for all kinds of little local bugs that need them.)

Two weeks ago, give or take, I noticed a rabbit hopping into one of the pots and seeming to disappear. After almost four hours collecting covers and bringing them back to the same pot it left, and I went outside to discover an adorable and well constructed nest, which we’ve made sure to avoid disturbing beyond visually checking to make sure it’s still there/whole.

Three days ago there was a solid amount of movement under the cover of fur blocking the nest, which ultimately revealed five or six fully furred baby bunnies with eyes just starting to open (best guess, we didn’t want to get too close so kind of hard to see through the wood sorrel in the pot). We were very excited to realize that soon the bunnies would be big enough to go out into the world and do their best.

Last night I went to check on my garden around ten and we noticed there was one of them out of the nest on the patio. Cautiously approaching, we realized it was hurt, with a small cut not visible through the fur around its neck and wasn’t able to get up and support its own weight. The most it moved was its eyes opening and closing and its back legs occasionally kicking. It had been there long enough to get fairly cold but was still breathing and hanging on. It was too late for any of the wildlife rescue/rehab groups to be available until this morning. So we put together a nest box with a hot water bottle attached to one wall for ambient heat and some clean rags to make it soft and fresh picked clovers. Wearing gloves, we very carefully moved the bunny into the box and moved it to a warm, quiet, dark place and left it overnight in the hope we’d be able to take it to some pros for help in the morning.

Unfortunately our little friend didn’t make it through the night. I know we did our very best and were careful and prioritized the animal’s safety as best as we could. I know sometimes bunnies don’t make it and that’s part of why rabbits make so many, life’s tough for a prey animal. I’m sad that it seems like the most likely cause was a fight in the nest, since there’s no evidence of incursion by predators at all and the bunny was only maybe a foot away with nothing nearby capable of causing the injury.

It’ll be ok. I’m doing a lot better about it than I thought I was going to. We’ve lost two nests of baby bunnies at this house and I’ve been pretty devastated both times. I really hope the other bunnies are ok in their nest but I won’t disturb it to check on them. It helps knowing we did everything we could, and we’ve had a lot of practice accepting death lately.

We’ll be ok but I need to put all this somewhere.

Today will be busy.

Tomorrow should be a very good day.

#cw animal death #tw animal death

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dzpenumbra · 2 years ago

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3/15/23

I didn't sleep well. I had a very intense nightmare. I guess a bit of a trigger warning about death, just skip the next paragraph if that's too much.

I was hanging out with this family that was... functional. And comfortable around each other. And I still had my dog. And I ended up having to put her down. And I had to explain to this guy about how... this death was a bit more difficult. I guess I was comparing it to my dog's actual death or something, I don't know. My dog's death was very sudden and completely unexpected. She had cancer, angiosarcomas, and we literally were playing in a river together one day... then 24 hours later she couldn't stand up at all and couldn't eat without vomiting and I had to put her down. In this dream, she suffered for months. And I really don't know why my subconscious picked to present that as my dog, because that was literally what happened with my cat. It was rough at the end. She was not in good shape, and I really do feel like she suffered a lot, and unfortunately, I blame myself for that. I guess this was my conscience's way of reminding me that I haven't really... grieved my cat yet. Not fully, not actively. Not the way I did with my dog. For fuck's sake, I haven't even really been able to talk to anyone about it. It was really hard, man. And I really loved her. I still worry she's going to sneak out the door every time I open it. And I can't bring myself to put away her cat tree yet. It still has christmas lights on it and everything. -_-

I think the dream was really important for me. Because that grief was really turning into a lot of angst, and anger, and frustration. Throwing myself headlong at work shit and streaming and trying to make myself make friends. Pushing myself way outside of my comfort zone. I'm grieving. And I'm not... grieving. And I really, really just wish I had literally anyone to talk to about this.

My mom recommended I go to a support group or something. I've already talked to my therapist about my concerns there, just getting rattled by other peoples' horror stories, secondary trauma, that kinda shit. And though I don't believe it's any less myself, I feel like people there might get a bit insulted that I'm in a grief support group because I lost my dog and cat.

If you're going through a really tough time, and have someone in your life that is willing to give you space and a genuine shoulder to cry on... with no hidden strings and shit... please consider taking it. Because you never know when one day you're just gonna look around you... and there's no one left. And everyone just says "man, you're in really rough shape, you should really go pay someone so you can have someone to process this with for 45 minutes once a week." Too busy, everyone too busy. Too busy to be a parent, too busy to be a sibling, too busy to be a friend. Sadge.

So... I guess I'm just gonna try to talk to my therapist about that tomorrow. I've been entertaining the idea of smoking weed again, but after that... I mean... yeah. I just. If I freak out, I'm 100% alone. And I freak out majority of the time. I just. I want a fucking break, man. An emotional break. Relief, relaxation, calm. Fucking love. Affection, affirmation. Dude, I laughed audibly today. Like out loud, like until tears formed in my eyes. That hasn't happened in so long. I need more of that.

Let's ride this wave out of grief and sorrow. It'll return soon, don't worry, I just have more to share and I'm exhausted. I skated for like... I don't even know... 2.5-3 hours today? So much. I practiced kickflips most of the day. I got some moving ones that were actually pretty clean. The snow was very wet, right between slush and ice, where it's still a wet soft bit on top, but smooth hard packed underneath, super packable. So... zero friction. It was really hard to ride stably, my weight kept shifting all over the place. It wore me out, and made landing kickflips much harder because I'm still working out where to keep my weight. I've got it down standing still, but it feels much different moving. But yeah, got a few. And then went over to the 2-stair for awhile. Battled with the shuvit again, which was annoying as hell, because once I got it, it was like... really easy. The drop just psyches me out.

I feel like there are a few mental barriers in skating that I really need to get over, and once I do? I'm going to progress very quickly. Like confidently throwing shuvits and flips down a drop or gap the way I throw them on flat. For some reason, I can kickflip off a kicker, the same size drop, the same distance out. But... the second you throw a stair in there? It just gets in my head and the trick just dismantles in my mind. My weight is all wrong, I flip it too far forward, I don't pop enough, I catch it and then stomp it down rather than just let gravity bring me down. Exact same deal with the shuvit. And I felt when I caught the shuvit and landed it... it felt exactly the same as a shuvit on flat, just with a little drop to it. But getting my body (and mind) to replicate that... that's another story.

Around 9, I ordered some food from this local fried food joint. Really healthy, I know. French fries, fried chicken, mozz sticks, milkshake. I fucking ate all of it too, good lord, it literally made me nod off. I ordered the delivery on my phone and planned it to show up at my door so I could go skate the maintenance door for like... 20 mins, half an hour? Then grab dinner on my way back to my apartment. Flawless plan, very glad I did it. The future is pretty damn convenient, albeit a bit expensive...

On the maintenance door, my only real goal was FS boardslide to fakie. It's such a fun trick, it's just full commitment and just... see what happens. And it feels really cool, too. So I got that after about 3 tries. I stuck 5-0 shuv on the first try, and really clean too, nice pop and everything. I was really happy with that, that was a go-to warm up trick for me, I had it on lock like every try back in 2019. FS blunt was interesting, I gave that a whirl and it worked alright. BS blunt not so much, and noseblunt was just not working at all with the wet snow. Riding in nollie position in wet snow is just... impossible. I think that's basically it, I tried BS board to 270 shuv and was close, I just didn't really care about the trick enough to close the deal on it.

At the very end, I decided to practice heelflips standing still until the delivery texted me. And I got a couple really good ones, actually, which really surprised me. I don't know if I have it moving anymore, but I got some popped pretty high.

So yeah... the big battle today was trying to kickflip the 2-stair. And I didn't land it. I had a few sketchy lands that I fell out of, I definitely don't count it. And that's that. And I'm exhausted.

I came home, got in the comfy chair, ate my junk food, watched MOONMOON stream some WWF game, laughed my ass off, nodded off. Got up, played some Star Wars: Empire at War - Thrawn's Revenge mod while watching the end of MrMoonsHouse's stream. And... here I am.

So yeah. I'm really feeling the need for community. And I'm not really sure what to do about that. Twitch may take a while to pick up, or not pick up at all. I could try to get back into RP. I could find a multiplayer game and hope to find people who aren't shitbags. Again, I'm just trying to find a way to be social remotely without going on social media. Because of a) the toxicity, the anger, the aggression, and b) the ads. My ads are all mental health, and... today... tragically... stuff having to do with cat litter? Sometimes dog training? I don't know if they're scanning this blog or listening to my phone calls with my mom, but either way... they're picking up a lot of the wrong shit, and it's like 1 out of every 5 things on Instagram is a fucking ad for ADHD management tools or something having to do with my dead pets. And it completely undoes the positive impact of seeing cool art and skate clips. Completely counteracts it. And there's no way around it. So... fuck.

I swear, if it weren't for those ads, I'd absolutely spend more time on Instagram. I mean that. I'd have to be really mindful to like... manage my time there and not sink too deep into it... but it's nowhere as bad as Reddit. Reddit I will be there for literal hours, just writing comments and replies, proofreading them several times, and then deleting them and never posting them. And the ads are like walking down the Vegas fucking strip, it's really goddamn bad. They will let literally anyone advertise there. I had ads for like... bulletproof vests marketed towards families... proselytizing Christians... I had some company harassing me for years with some fucking schizophrenia injection, which was creepy as fuck and really not cool to like... plant that idea into the head of someone who is regularly smoking weed and has a tendency to get paranoid. Really not cool. Like... shit like that makes me yearn for the days when the ads I would hear on the radio were for like shitty car dealerships or Coor's Light or some shit. Now it's these fucking lunatics, reminding me regularly that they are still out there in the world, just waiting for me to come and hang out with them. Then I read the comments on some of the posts on Reddit and it's just a complete toxicity overload. Fucking hell.

So yeah, trying to not have to go back there for social shit, honestly. Super unhealthy. Maybe I'll see if there's a Space Engineers server I could join, or maybe RP honestly, it could be fun. Idk. We'll see.

I'm gonna go pass out.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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the-firebird69 · 2 years ago

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We are waiting to see if our Ackerle beer will take off it's in Germany for sale a lot of people are drinking it and like a few hovels and there's a certain path that things take out of Germany if they've become a fad big enough for people to move it out and in certain circles it is and unfortunately it's the warlock once again the beers too cheap to be trusted it has to be them they're the ones most often seen with them and in their hands they look like gigantic bottles. And almost homemade no but they look like giant bottles like if my husband had one of those Colt 45 big bottles they look like that too straight up there in like a triangle. So there's a ton of them drinking it and they get hammered quite easily on two they are pretty much out and the Germans are not drinking ton of it and some of it and it's headed west there is a natural path and it's not through France it is through Belgium it's tough grounds to go through but when it gets there on this certain ride it gets carried out and goes all over the damn place but usually it goes from Belgium a little bit to France some of it to Britain and then a whole bunch of those down to the Mediterranean and down there everybody's partying and they're going to load up on it and we have some orders from down there already they're small 200 cases here 1,000 cases here 500 cases there that is about 7,000 of those orders and that's probably about 10 million cases which is pretty good for the first day and it spread real fast and we are selling tons of it and we are going to probably take over the entire beer industry so he wants to wait and see what happens with the beer sales on this particular beer. Comes in different formats and we're selling in different formats but we'd like to say that the beer bottle is the most famous and the best seller as it really is there's some requests for it coming from all over the world the Ukraine the call caucuses the Middle East Africa all over the all over Asia believe it or not and even Russia has ordered probably a million cases today and tomorrow they order more and all of Europe is going to probably order them because of the Germans are drinking them at all it is probably a good beer and it comes from his clan and my clan is the wine that's coming out with my name Doucette from France, and yes in a glass bottle. And it's not going to be a higher end wine but we're going to introduce it in glass to start. It's a wonderful vintage it's new and it's a wonderful vineyard and it is on one of the steps that was owned by my clan and it was recently furrowed and the original grapes were still there some of them were in decent shape about 1/3 and we're replanting using the original grapes and it's going over very well with people and we might buy a ton of vineyards because the Price is Right it's going to be inexpensive

Hera

That's right I don't own much of the vineyard but some of it and I help out and I learned how to do a lot of things splicing and all sorts of way to start new growth and I'm learning from Masters and following their instructions explicitly and implicitly and back over at the brewery by 10:00 a.m.. and we're looking at making the bottles a little faster and make opening a huge bottling plant and we're going to have to and we're going to have to open a second and third brewery maybe even more huge ones and we'll have to open it we'll have to build them off site but I'm going to use the same water in the same hops and barley. It's a huge day we have all sorts of requests for this particular beer and they're coming from all of the United States. Some people brought it with them from Germany and pay the import duty it's like $30 for a six pack and they said no way and they said anyways and they paid it every single one of them paid it it's a brand new beer and it's our factory and it's our name and they want to see if it's connected with me and all that good stuff and they want to try and sue me for drunken drivers and they want me to drink it to get drunk and all sorts of fun things so it's a good time. And I'm looking forward to it but this is going to be an on slot of questions and idiotic comments and things like that but they like doing it I guess. And there's a certain dress that's worn it was worn by my clan and it's on the beer bottle and some people are already wearing it and they're trying to go to the beer Halls that reminds me I should send it some to the beer Halls out there that way we are and there's some beer halls in the USA now so I'm going to send it out here in Europe first this is a German beer and they call it Scandinavian but it's not. I have gotten several requests from each so I'm going to send them a note how much they'd like to start and we'll see how it goes it's less expensive than the other beers and it's less expensive by The keg and so they're very interested and not want me to get a move on so I'm going to start to try and send it

Zues

There's a huge number of people who want the beer now and it's upper crusty people and they want to be seen drinking it and it said great we can do commercials so there's tons of people who are interested it's like his name almost and then I'll say they own the place it's going to be horrible because of the empire

Hera

Ugh

Zues

Wow your name is German this is going to be terrible

Thor Freya

What the hell are you doing no we know what he's doing it's funny though and we're going to be working a butt off cuz they're all seeing this dumb s*** already

Olympus

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dashofmonsters · 3 years ago

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Night Classes pt.1

Male Werewolf x Female Reader

When you were a kid you loved reading and writing more than anything. As you got older you still did but hardly found the time to between work and helping your older sister with her twins. As time went by the twins finally got old enough for school and your sister met a really nice gal who got her into the local community college. With new found free time you decide to try your hand at writing again but feel rather rusty. Your sister talks you into the creative writing course they have at night and you love it, but there's just something about the professor that seems oddly familiar...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ughhh this is killing me!" Felix moans into his journal. You try your best to ignore him but as always he repeats his complaints until you turn to him and see what's wrong.

"Stuck?" you ask the obvious. He had a knack for writing really good dramatic scenes but always had a tough time tying them up so the plot could move forward.

"Beyond stuck, I finally got to the point where Nathan was exposed as the one who's hazmat suit wasn't working and that's how the crew got infected but I don't know... Ivan's response was kinda predictable and Suzuki's overreacting felt way too out of character...God I feel like I'm fighting with this story and the characters!" he fumes.

We're all fighting with our stories here...

Most of everyone here prefers writing fantasy or YA fiction, not sci-fi, the current theme for this semester's short story project. You've read a good bit of sci-fi last year, so you know what you want the story to be like but the problem is originality. Professor Bernard said right off the bat to not worry about that and just write.

Easier said then done...

Felix groans again and starts tapping his pencil, his fidgeting reminding you of your highschool friend but he never got on your nerves like this.

"Just rewrite it? Listen I have to finish up this chapter before the end of class tomorrow and I'm fighting to figure out if I want first contact now or to have everything lead up to it in the next chapter," you sigh, turning back to your own story so you can find where you left off.

Professor Bernard is sitting front and center, typing away on his laptop. He's rather calm and isn't complaining about all the chit chat today, something he readily snaps at. He's either pretty busy or figures everyone is stressing about finishing up this chapter because this is the first time we turn in our current and mostly unedited work to him.

With this one finished we'll be ten chapters deep.

After a couple hours you get to a pretty decent stopping point and go over your work for grammar and running sentences. You save your work and power off the laptop and go over additional notes you wrote your my journal. It'll be a cliffhanger at this point but that's just what you want, to build up that suspense.

"Leaving so soon Cherry Cola?" Professor asks as you step away from your desk.

You wince at your class nickname and nod. "Unfortunately. I'd like to work on this a bit longer but tomorrow is Friday and that's when work usually gets pretty crazy."

He shrugs his shoulders knowingly and looks back up towards the class, "A little less groaning and more writing Arnold Palmer."

The woman he called out rolls her eyes at her nickname and gets back to the grind.

You quietly laugh to yourself in the hall thinking back on how everyone got our terrible nicknames. First day Professor asked the class to put out their drinks on the desks if they weren't already. Then, going person by person assigned everyone new names based on that and he's been calling the class by those names ever since. Poor Felix got reduced to Mr. Three Red Bulls, Mr. Three for short.

You told your coworkers about the names and with much pain and annoyance they started calling you Cherry Cola or Cherry. It had been a good three months now since so you've grown used to it if not fond.

You take a deep breath and sigh, thinking about work is never fun. There's this new client you have that's supposed to be coming in tomorrow and they haven't been the easiest to deal with. Your manager has had to take over a couple times with how unruly they've been but if you can get this policy bound it might mean your boss will finally get off your back!

Taking one last deep breath for good measure you nearly jump out of your skin with a yelp when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry you just dropped this on your way out of class."

To your surprise it was Professor Bernard who gave you a near heart attack. He's holding your keys and your lucky pen.

Great... my hearings getting worse if I didn't hear those drop. Either that or I'm getting too distracted lately...

"Thanks and sorry, I scare easily. Kinda comes with having terrible hearing and spacing out a lot, people can sneak up on me a lot easier," you laugh.

"I see..." he pauses and rocks back and forth with his hands in his pockets. "So umm feel pretty good with your story so far?"

"Yes, but it's a bit out of my element right now, I'm hoping to really dive into more of the world building with the rest of it," you admit.

"That's... that's good..." he replies rather dryly as he looks away from you.

He seems a bit on the edge, you think. "Hey Professor are-"

"We're out of class, just call me Bernard," he quickly interrupts.

"Ok? Then Bernard, are you ok?" you ask him, crossing your arms as the chill of the school gets the better of you.

"I'm fine I... It's just..." he stops mid sentence and hide his face in his hand and groans.

"Do you want to go grab a coffee from the café and talk about it?" you offer and he nods his head.

You lead him to one of the school's cafés and he sits with his head in his hands as you pour coffee for the both of you.

He mutters something under his breath as you sit down and pass him his coffee. You set packs of sugar and creamer down and to your surprise he grabs none.

"So you like your coffee just plain?" you nervously ask him.

He finally sits up straight and exhales rather loudly.

"Only when I need to stay awake for a while longer. And listen I'm just... I'm sorry, I know this is going to sound strange and feel free to say no, but would you like to have lunch sometime? I've been meaning to ask you for a little bit now but I either never find the time or you leave class too early and I just wanted to ask you about that one piece you turned in at the start of the semester when I asked if anyone had any current or finished projects."

You look down into your half empty cup as if it has the answer but your brain is firing off too many alarms for you to grasp at the coffee's enlightenment.

Is he asking me on a date? No no no! He just said he wanted to talk about my story that I turned in... But what if something happens? Do I roll with it? I don't know what to do even if it turns into something like that? Should I say yes and just see how it pans out or...

"Unless you're too busy then could I-"

"No no, I uh... uhh lunch would be nice," you nervously grin while internally you're slapping yourself in the face.

Bernard sighs and gives you grin of his own, "ok... cool-" he pauses and quickly clears his throat. "I mean, um what day would work for you?"

"I'm usually free on the weekends if I'm not helping my sister with her kids," you tell him.

He looks up to the ceiling as you did with your coffee then quickly reaches for his phone and thumbs through it a few times.

"Would next Saturday work for you?" he asks, his amber eyes widen in anticipation.

"I'll have to see. I never know when my sister might need help and she doesn't trust her kids to anyone who's not family and unfortunately I'm the closest relative she has," you explain with pained memories of trying to get out of babysitting but your sister wouldn't leave her kids with just anyone, even a professional nanny.

"I understand, my folks were the same way with my brothers and I. My grandparents were always the go to sitters when they had date night," he huffs, though he seems more relaxed.

"You have brothers?" you ask him. Coincidently you knew someone who had the same last name as your creative writing professor and looked eerily similar to him, but with much shorter hair.

"Yes, two of them. We're identical triplets, though we're easy to tell apart since we wear our hair at different lengths," he explains.

"You wouldn't happen to be related to Logan Graham then?" you ask.

Bernard folds over into his hands and groans, "What did he do now?"

You couldn't help but to laugh, but you understood. Logan has...well had, a reputation of causing trouble if he wasn't getting into it.

"Nothing that I know of, but I thought you look familiar. I was in the same classes as Logan in highschool, that's how we met. My sister and I also sort of couch hopped at your place back then too" you tell him.

He straightens back up with a sigh, "Oh gods! That was you then!? I kept thinking you looked so familiar and I couldn't remember... I was out of the house so much between my grandparents and college. So you and Logan? Were you two, well...together?"

You snort a laugh and shiver with cringe, "No no no no no, gods no! Ew! He was like a brother to me. Not to mention every time I think about him the first thing that comes to mind is the chili dog eating contest and the aftermath...That poor Cadillac..."

"Oh no! Don't tell me, you were the one who was helping him clean the vomit out of my dad's '89 Deville?" Bernard covers his mouth, looking like he's trying to stifle a laugh.

"Yes! So that must mean you were the asshole brother who just stood on the porch watching us in panic while trying cleaning it," you snap with a grin.

"In my defense I was getting back at him for eating my leftovers," he crosses his arms, daring you to defy his petty teen logic.

And you do. For nearly a hour the both of you go back and forth reminiscing about the dumb stuff Logan did and the few times you met each other as teens. You could have kept going on and on, but a text from your sister alerted you to the time.

Bernard apologizes for keeping you, but you wave it off. You exchange numbers so you can keep him up to date if you'll be free this coming Saturday.

There's an odd moment when you say your goodbyes and goodnights, neither of you sure if a hug or a wave would be appropriate, so you both simultaneously decide on an awkward smile and a 'see ya later'.

On your drive home you can't help but to think about what just happened. It feels so unreal but at the same time you can't help but to feel relieved. Relieved that you're not going on a lunch date with just your creative writing professor, but with the brother of an old friend of yours. That logic put you at temporary ease, but you then you reminded yourself that no one called it a date.

When you pull up at the apartments you hear a ping from your phone and see a text from Bernard.

Prof. Bernard: Just checking to see if you made it home safe, we're supposed to be getting some bad weather soon.

You stare at the text for an ungodly five minutes, trying to figure out if he's being nice or just trying to open up communications or if this is his way to start flirting or whatever! You quickly shake yourself out of it and dismiss it as you reading too much into it and reply.

You: Just got home, I live like ten minutes from the college. Thanks for the heads up though, I'll make sure to bring some of my plants in. We've been getting a ton of rain lately XD

Polite and to the point with just enough friendliness...Ok, let's see where this goes, if anywhere...

Prof. Bernard: That's good. Yeah the weather's been pretty wild lately. Hopefully it doesn't flood, I don't think the Deville can take anymore mishaps to it

He texts back rather fast so you decide to wait to reply till you're in the comfort of your apartment. The rain finally starts up as you make an effort to unlock your door, the key getting stuck and unwilling to cooperate with you again.

Blast this old thing!

Once inside you quickly deposit your things and make a mad dash to reign in your herbs and flowers from the patio. The rain is heavy and hard and you're lucky that you got home when you did.

You: It's coming down pretty hard now. Wait is that old clanker still running?

The thought that the old Deville is still hitting the road brings about a strange happiness. It was a very large part of your teenage years, just as much as it was for the Graham brothers you assume.

Prof. Bernard: Oh fantastic! And I wouldn't call sitting at a mechanic for three fourths of the year running, but I'm hoping once they drop a new engine in her that that will change... For now the city bus will have to do

You look outside at the downpour and grimace at the thought of having to take a bus in this sort of weather. You didn't like it back in highschool and you hated it even more so as an adult. Thunder cracks and shakes the windows, the rain picks up even more and it doesn't look like it'll end anytime soon.

You: I'd like to see the good old clunker once they getting running... WAIT DID YOUR DAD GIVE YOU THE DEVILLE?!?!?!

The thought didn't hit till now but the gifting of Mr. Graham's baby Deville was no small thing. You remember Logan drooling over the prospect of owning it one day, even buying it from his dad if he had to. But if Bernard has it, oh man, how did Logan take the news when it happened.

Prof. Bernard: Yeah, he gave it to me as a graduation gift. I was excited and upset, I knew it would cause issues with Logan and I...

You could feel your stomach tighten, almost as if you could hear the disappointment in through the text. Logan would not have taken it well at all. He didn't really have a temper that you saw, but he was never the sort who kept his feelings about things bottled.

You: I'm guessing it did cause problems huh?

Prying into an old friend's life wasn't something you'd typically do, but this was Logan. The guy who punched your prom date in the face for ditching you last minute for another girl. The guy who shielded you from onlookers in the halls when you bled through your jeans. He was honorary family!

But the question must have been too much since Bernard doesn't reply back right away. You set your phone down and start preparing for tomorrow. Work clothes, microwave meal, rain boots and jacket, the typical storm season layout. You check outside and see that the rain is still coming down pretty hard, you hope Bernard won't have to wait for the bus for too long.

You hear your phone ping and see that he's finally texted back.

Prof. Bernard: Problems would be an understatement... We haven't spoken since... Sorry for the long wait, class just ended when you texted. I'm not looking forward to getting drenched

It hurts to know that something like that had happened and it's even worse that you're only now hearing about it. You really didn't keep in close touch with him after graduation but you emailed each other a few times a year for updates. He never once mentioned anything about the Deville, so he must have had a lot of mixed feelings about it.

You: I'm sorry that happened...I don't know what to say...Maybe if I had known I'd have slapped him upside the head for acting like a kid, but I'd probably would have sided with him just because we were friends. Rain is still pretty heavy, hopefully your bus gets there soon

How could he not say anything? Especially to me!

You huff and shuffle to your tiny apartment livingroom and plop yourself on the worn sofa. You sigh and huff a lot, feeling outraged about the Deville drama. It's just an old clunker car but there's a lot of sentimentality behind it for the Grahams and for you too. Logan would have outright emailed you a ten page complaint about the whole thing, that is, if he weren't conflicted about it.

Not able to take the internal frustration any longer you let out a long and immature groan. It felt good and helped clear your head a little bit.

No use stewing in this...

Deciding to get to the bottom of this, you start emailing Logan. It's short and there's nothing about the subject of conflict, yet. Knowing him he'll probably get to it this weekend since he works away from internet most of the time.

Checking the time on your phone, you see that Bernard texted back a few minutes ago.

Prof. Bernard: It was a family issue and he probably didn't want to drag you into it... though your honesty is appreciated. I think I might have to rideshare unfortunately, my bus is thirty minutes late. Safe to say that it might be flooded up that way.

Ignoring the drama of the past you open your weather app on your phone and see flash flood warnings in your area. Luck would have it that you live on what's basically a hill so no surprise water. But Bernard's been out there for a while now and gods knows when or if someone will come pick him up.

You: It might be a hour or so if at all that you'll get picked up if there's a flood. Not a lot of people around here would want to risk it. I could pick you up if you want...

You hold your breath and send the text. You tell yourself on normal circumstances this wouldn't even be on the table but you know the Grahams and Bernard, though you knew him as a jerk to his brother, he was always nice to you albeit awkward.

Within record timing your phone pings in response.

Prof. Bernard: Would you?!?!?! I was going to go back in and wait but the schools locked up and I only have keys for my room.

There wasn't any going back now, you made the offer and he is clearly in need.

You: Yeah, give me like 5 minutes and I'll be omw. Are you at the bus stop or on campus???

Grabbing your rain gear you had set up for work you wiggle your way to the door as you dance to get the jacket and boots on. You snatch your keys and bag in one quick motion and nearly trip as you shut the door behind you. The rain is coming down in sheets now and the thunder rumbles even louder when you're outside. You have to hold the hood of your rain jacket as you carefully walk to your car.

You check your phone and Bernard responded that he's at the bus stop.

Gods he must be soaked to the bone!

With the utmost caution you make your way out of the apartment parking lot and drive ever so slowly towards the school. Hardly anyone is driving about and the local diner is packed with the night owls who can't get home thanks to the flooding. There's got to be at least three or four inches of water in the road right now, not a number you're comfortable with but not enough to flood out your vehicle...yet.

You finally come up to the street where the bus stop is at and you can make out a figure sitting solemnly at the bench with a just big enough umbrella to shield from the rain. You pull up to the stop and Bernard shoots up, his eyes squint trying to make out your face through the rain and tinted window.

"Get in before you catch a cold dammit!" you yell as you roll down the passenger side window.

He stumbles with his umbrella as he opens the door and slides in. You have him throw his things in the back seat since there's little leg room up front and just like Logan, Bernard has some long ass legs.

"I cannot thank you enough for this," he combs his wet hair back as he basks in the heat of your car.

"Don't thank me yet, depending on where you live I might not be able to get you home tonight," you admit and explain the flooding situation.

Bernard makes a mix of several different faces, most of them seem as if he has something to say but would rather shove his foot into his mouth before he did.

You let out a deep sigh and decide to break this awkwardness.

"We're both adults Berny, if you're uncomfortable sleeping on your brother's old friends couch then I can drop you off at the nearest motel." you say flatly but emphasize on his old nickname.

You can see the tension shift from awkward to pure cringe at hearing an old hated nickname. "I thought I'd never have to hear anyone call me that again."

Logan loved antagonizing his brothers, especially Bernard. You recall all the times how he would holler from the Deville 'Hey Berny!' and how Bernard looked like he was three seconds away from dragging Logan out of the car and starting a fight on the front lawn.

"You had the patience of a saint back then. First time I heard him call you that I thought you were going to deck him right then and there," you laugh, glad that he seems a bit more relaxed.

He straightens up and flops against the car seat with a huff. "It was annoying for sure but I'd never fight him over something like that, not seriously anyways. Besides I don't think he'd like it if I stunted his ego in front of a lady friend."

You snort laugh and shake your head, "Lady friend?"

Bernard turns to look at you, giving you a smile so charming it should be a sin. "With how often you hung around him I thought the two of you were dating."

"I can see why you'd think that, a lot of people did to be honest. Logan didn't really go out of his way to flirt or anything, in fact whenever the subject was brought up he always said that he's still waiting to meet the right one. He was kind of a hopeless romantic," you chuckle and tap your steering wheel.

He shifts in his seat to sit sideways the best he can with his long legs, the amber of his eyes glistening from the street lights. He opens his mouth to say something but quickly stops, contemplating on how he should string his next sentence.

"I kind of have to admit something...The whole lunch thing for Saturday, only part of it was for talking about your story. I mean, I am very interested in it, the plot is very very well thought out and the characters are interesting, but it's uh...fuck...Ok I thought you looked familiar and it's been bothering me since day one and I was going to sort of gage whether or not you are who I think you are but you've literally been beating me to every single punch," he takes a deep breath and waits for some sort of reaction, but you're almost too shocked to give an immediate response.

You suddenly find yourself laughing, nervously perhaps but at least it was some sort of noise versus the maddening pitter patter of the rain.

"Sorry sorry, wow...aren't we doing so well as adults and properly communicating," you sigh, the laughter in you finally dying down.

Bernard is still looking at you, his eyes soften up and that sinfully charming smile of his returns. "So it would seem. I forgot how nonchalant you can be about unusual situations. Moving on though, I think it's best that we continue our awkward reunion at your place, lest your car get flooded out."

"How considerate," you chuckle, putting your car in drive.

It takes twice as long to get back to your apartment though it felt even longer with the silence between you and Bernard. Ever so often you would catch him stealing a glance over at you then quickly looking away. You decide that he's probably still in disbelief that you're his brother's friend from back in the day, after all you've changed quite a bit so you're almost more surprised that he thought you look familiar.

When you do finally make it home, Bernard ever the gentleman of the Graham brothers, offers his umbrella even though you clearly have rain gear on. You take him up on the offer though and a part of you wishes you didn't.

The whole evening you've spent talking to him as the brother of your friend, completely forgetting that he is in fact a grown man and one you've admitted to your friends and coworkers of being very attractive. None of that didn't dawn on you until he stood right behind you, umbrella over head, and his hand on your shoulder.

"Lead the way," he says and the both of you make a mad dash to your door. You fumble with your keys again, the lock sticking and the knob not wanting to turn.

"Sorry this old thing's been giving me hell lately and my landlord refuses to-"

"Mind if I try?" He asks, setting his things down and pulling out a spray can of wd40.

You would have been surprised if anyone else had a can of wd40 on them, but you've never not known a Graham to leave home without it. Logan carried one in his backpack at all times and surprisingly put it to good use at least once a day.

Handing your keys to Bernard you back up and let him work his Graham magic on the lock. After spritzing and fidgeting with the lock and knob he finally manages to get it open but almost falls into the doorway from lack of resistance.

"My hero," you clap, doing your best to stifle a laugh.

Bernard quickly straightens up, his cheeks slightly flushed, "That thing has to got to go. Why won't your landlord replace it? It's practically useless."

"He's a cheapskate and trust me my lock problem is not the worst issue around here. Cecil's been without A/C for six months and June still can't use her bathroom sink," you shrug and invite your professor into you humble little home.

He grimaces at the door as he shuts it behind him. His expression lightens when you hand him a towel and the directions to your bathroom if he wants to take a hot shower to warm up. He almost declines the offer until you tell him that you'll just go straight to your room and he can use your washer and dryer.

"Alright, I did want to talk to you a bit more but I've kept you long past what I should have and you've got work in the morning. I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he smiles, rocking back on his heels.

"Right. Goodnight Berny," you stick your tongue out at him and turn to your room. As you shut it you hear a snarky reply 'Goodnight then, Cherry Cola.'

~~~~~~

You can hardly sleep knowing that your creative writing professor, brother of your friend, and the once in a while subject of gossip at the workplace is most likely sleeping naked on your couch.

Feeling like a scandalous giddy school girl for wishing to sneak a peak you decide to try and busy yourself by working on classwork. You make great headway with needing to be distracted but you still find yourself looking towards your door.

This is stupid! This is my apartment! If I want to walk out of my room to go do something I shouldn't have to feel awkward about it! Plus the likelihood of him being in the absolute nude is slim to none, his mother wouldn't approve of such ungentlemanly behavior...

Now that you've rightfully convinced yourself to be the big girl you are, you quietly open your door and tiptoe to the kitchen. You see Bernard, shirtless and laying on his stomach with his arm hanging off the couch and his face smooshed against the throw pillow. You nearly giggle but you hold it together. Your eyes move up to see if his legs are in any strange position and they are, but something's off about them.

Ever so carefully you tiptoe just a bit closer and almost jump out of your skin upon closer inspection. His legs are hairy, very very hairy. In fact hairy isn't quite the right word, more like fury. His legs are covered in fur and your pretty sure that where there should be feet that there are dog like looking paws.

You start to back up, being diligent not to make a sound. You're almost successful until you trip over the coffee table and stumble back. Bernard shoots right awake and looks at you with confusion for a moment until he suddenly realizes himself.

"You saw?" he looks down to his legs and then to you. It was less of a question and more of an accusation. He waits for you to say something, anything, but all you manage to do is gawk.

It's not that you're scared or upset, but genuinely shocked. Your brain is going ninety to nothing trying to process what's going on but you're current self feels a bit too stupid to even talk. Bernard looks towards your door and then to his things. You'd hate to put him out because of your short circuited cranium so you try and say something.

"I uh-" you pause, Bernard's full attention on you. His eyes are wide and expression mute.

"I...I was just getting something to drink and you looked a bit uncomfo-"

Bernard starts laughing uncontrollably and drops to the floor. Without the blanket hiding anything you can see that he did indeed sleep in his boxers, but you tell yourself that that's not the most important thing going on right now.

"I really do adore how absolutely nonchalant you can be," he smiles with a wistful sigh.

You feel a strange tightening in your chest and the only thing you can think is 'uh oh'. You quickly try and look anywhere but in his direction so you can at least start to process this situation.

"This is going to take some time for you to understand, I get that. I'm just glad that you're not running for the hills or trying to call the authorities. I don't know what I would do if I... if you..." Bernard pauses and you hear him inch towards you.

His hand slides over yours and you try not to jump from the sudden contact. You can feel the weight of his eyes on you and when you finally cave in and look at him he looks as if he's about to break.

"I don't think I need time," you start. "I need answers, but I'm too tired and too overwhelmed to even process anything right now so we'll save that for later. Just promise me that you won't be dodgy with me and I promise that I won't talk about whatever I saw ok?"

Bernard practically throws himself at you, hugging you so tight and unexpectedly that you squeak. If your brain was in disarray before, it's now in utter and absolute chaos with the everything on fire. You're about to try and push yourself off but he quickly rights himself and you see that his face is flushed.

"I uh sorry about that," he clears his throat and continues. "I just- No uh, sorry. I'm just a bit a mess in the head right now," he chuckles and shakes his head.

For some reason this calms you down quite a bit. Maybe it's because he's just as shocked as you are or maybe because he's just as tired, but whatever the case is, he's still the same person you found out you knew.

"Look at us being adults and properly communicating," you quip.

He gives a breathy laugh and leans back into the carpet. For a quick moment you dare to look at his full sprawled out body. He's fit and has a few scars on his side, but nothing alarming. Now that you're able to get a closer look the fur on his legs is a dark almost reddish brown and the worst part is that it looks soft.

"You can touch it if you want," he coughs, his head turned away.

You'd been caught and he had the nerve to offer you to touch his fur and he won't even look your way.

"Thanks but you don't look like you want me to," you say.

There's a long stretch of silence and you almost assume that he just fell back asleep on the floor but when you start to move to get up he grabs your hand. You look back down and his eyes have a sort of fiery resolve to them.

"There's a lot I want to say right now but I'll hold off for a little while longer. There's definitely been some time for things to change but it seems that they haven't and it's picked up right where it left off for me, the only difference now is that I know where to look. I know I'm being cryptic and none of this makes sense, I just had to get it off my chest. I should let you get back to sleep," he lets go of your hand and for some odd reason you wish he didn't.

Bernard makes the first move to stand and offers to help you off the floor. It's almost a miracle that you don't fall over with how numb your legs are but the wobble in your step seems to give someone a good excuse to lift you off the floor and into their arms.

Once again he doesn't look at you and it almost frustrates you that he has the nerve to pick you up but not even look at you.

"Come on Berny, we're adults. If you're going to princess lift me at least carry me to my room dammit," you laugh, and strike a damsel in distress pose in his arms.

He nearly drops you with how hard he's laughing and you can't help but to join in. It takes several minutes for the both of you to calm down and you're surprised to find that you're still in his hold.

"I forgot how melodramatic you can be too," he blinks a few tears out of his eyes by looking up.

"And funny," you add.

Bernard rolls his eyes and smiles that sinful smile again, "Yes and funny. I think that's why I had a crush on you back then."

Part 2 >

466 notes · View notes

kiyosamu · 3 years ago

Text

remember.

----♡----

pairing: rintaro suna x female reader.

genre: yandere, dark, light romance. // one shot, 4k words.

synopsis: abusive relationships can seem impossible to leave. when you open up to a classmate, your life takes a dramatic turn in the best and worst ways imaginable.

content warnings: assault, domestic abuse (not from suna), descriptions of violence, yandere themes.

----♡----

“hey, kid.” suna’s voice caught your attention as you passed by him in the university corridor. he was quiet, only speaking loud enough for you to hear right as you were walking by.

“hey, rintaro.” you stopped for a moment, refusing to look up at the tall man towering over you.

“i haven’t seen you in a while. everything okay?” he leaned against the wall and clutched a textbook to his chest. “you haven’t even been to class. kinda been missing my project partner.”

“you got my work though, right?” you asked him, partially covering your face with your hair. “i emailed it to you.”

“i did.”

“okay… good.” you cleared your throat, awkwardly shuffling and offering a suspiciously sudden goodbye.

“hey, wait-" suna grabbed your wrist to keep you from leaving. the small amount of pressure more than enough on your deep bruise to make you wince.

suna noticed your pained expression and immediately let go, stepping back.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just wanted to ask you if-“

“it’s okay!” you interrupted, knowing you’d already spoken to him for too long. you needed to get out of there before anyone noticed. “you didn’t hurt me. sorry, i have to go. bye!”

your behaviour was erratic. your speech was rushed; forced and strained with every word as you tried your best to appear normal.

unfortunately it was much harder to pretend everything was okay than you’d originally thought it’d be.

you quickly turned and headed down the hallway to drop off the assignments to your other professor. the last one you’d have to see for the day before heading home. you were almost there. so close you might not even run into him.

you’d hoped, anyway.

----♡----

after seeing your professor, you walked out into the fresh evening air. the cold stinging your cheeks and the wind pushing your hair out of your face.

your cheeks burned from the freezing air, but it was your black eye was that hurt the most.

“i’m sorry, i just lost my temper.” his words echoed in your head, “you shouldn’t have pissed me off.”

you nodded, essentially agreeing with him. it’s true, if he didn’t get mad, he wouldn’t have hit you. and why was he mad? because of something you did. so really, it was your own fault.

you were the one apologizing to him that night. doing anything you could to make it up to him. all of this with a deep purple bruise forming on your face.

when he finally left your dorm and went back to his, you were mentally exhausted. you fell asleep and woke up right before your second class of the day.

he had started forcing you to miss classes, to do everything at home and only go in to submit your work. this was for two reasons.

the first, you could spend more time with him due to your schedules. if yours was freed then you’d have more time together.

the second was to stop you from talking to other men. completely.

...and then he found out suna was your lab partner.

“i don’t want you working with him.”

“i have to. the professor is the one who chooses.”

“then work from home and submit the stuff online. that guy is a manipulator. he’s dangerous and will take advantage of you. i just know it.”

you’d never gotten that type of vibe from suna, but you obeyed your boyfriend because you didn’t want to know what would happen if you didn’t.

secretly, though, you missed class. you missed working with him. laughing, getting to know each other. he’d become a good friend over the past year and since you had the same majors, you two shared quite a few classes.

he was calm. funny and quiet, but definitely not timid. his energy made him come off tough, but not scary. if anything, he made you feel… safe.

just for those few hours you had together.

and whenever class would end, you found yourself missing that feeling.

----♡----

“i have to go to class tomorrow.” you said, refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend who’d invited himself over to your dorm.

just like he does every. single. night.

“why? you gonna go talk to that suna guy?” he approached you, giving you a terrifying smile that you know wasn’t coming from a place of happiness.

“yuji… please.” your words were barely a whisper when you felt his fingers wrap around your throat. “my professor told me i need to start going. my grades are falling behind.”

his fingers tapped rhythmically against your skin. dancing skillfully as he toyed with the idea of choking you. you held your breath, expecting the worst.

“you should try harder.” he growled, digging his fingertips into your neck and you clenched your eyes closed. “get your grades back up so you don’t have to spend any more time with that guy.”

“okay, okay!” you grabbed onto his wrist and his eyes widened. “i will! i’ll get my grades up so i don’t need to see him anymore.”

“good girl.” he smiled, the evil expression he’d previously worn had melted away into a false image of a kind man. “always listening so well for me.”

yuji leaned in and kissed you. you kissed back, barely, but just enough for him to be satisfied and leave you alone.

“time for me to go.” he sighed as he heard the dorm advisor do a final walk through to knock on the doors and let the students know it was time for guests to leave.

“see you tomorrow?” he asked, tilting your chin up to look at him.

“sure…” you whispered. you trembled under his touch and wanted nothing more than for him to leave your sight.

“good. it’s a date.” he said happily and gave you another kiss, practically skipping down the hallway back to his own room.

you shut and locked your door, desperately wishing that was the last time you’d ever have to see him.

----♡----

“well, well, well.” suna cooed as you took your seat next to him. “as i live and breathe, i never thought i’d see the day. you finally made it to class.”

you nodded and pulled out your books.

“had to. my grades are slipping.” you sighed, looking around at the science classroom. “what are we doing today?”

“lab day.” suna said as he nudged an instruction sheet towards you. “should we put on our coats and get to it?”

“okay...”

you started to have an internal panic attack. your wrists were as bruised as the black eye you were hiding behind your hair.

suna stepped away to get your lab coats.

this would all be visible, and you didn’t want suna (or anyone) to see any of it.

you nervously approached your professor and she looked up at you with a disinterested stare.

“ma’am, i need to be excused from class today.”

“absolutely not.” she scoffed, “unless you want to fail my class, which i know you can’t afford to do, you’ll stay and do your lab.”

you opened your mouth to reply but she kept speaking.

“go put up your hair, roll up your sleeves and get your lab coat on. you should be thankful you have such a competent partner.” she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, “actually, i think the two of you should spend some time together. he’s my top student and you definitely need some tutoring.”

“i don’t think that’s necessary-“

“mr. suna, come up here please.”

suna walked up with a confused look, unsure as to why he was being brought in to the conversation.

“something i can help with?” he asked.

“yes,” the professor smiled, “i’d like the two of you to do tutoring sessions a minimum of twice a week, an hour each time. could you do that?”

“oh, sure. i don’t mind.” he smiled, “was that all? we should get to our assignment.”

you felt backed in to a wall. of course you were okay with this, you enjoyed spending time with suna.

unfortunately, you were terrified of the repercussions.

even worse, there was nothing you could do about it.

when you got back to your table, you put your hair up and silently thought of a plan. keep your head down, don’t make eye contact. maybe he wouldn’t notice.

you rolled up your sleeves and put on your white coat. it was barely long enough to hit your wrists, but did a decent job of hiding the bruises.

the first half of the lab went well. suna explained things in a way that made it easy to comprehend and you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

until you completely forgot.

you began to pour the green liquid into the tube. suna was writing his lab report when he looked up and noticed your mistake.

“oh, hey,” he stood up, putting his hand over yours to tilt the container back up. “you need to pour it slower, like this.”

when it started to pour just as he’d wanted, he let go and you found yourself missing the brief comfort of his touch.

“good job! you did it.” suna smiled and you looked up at him with an excited expression. finally. finally you were getting something right.

when the two of you made eye contact, his smile immediately dropped into a look of concern.

“what happened to your eye?”

“oh,” you stepped back, covering it with your hand. “i fell.”

suna carefully held onto your wrist and you winced in pain. his intentions were to move your hand away from your eye, but he took immediate notice of your reaction and pushed your sleeve down.

the bruises in the shape of fingerprints stained your skin a deep purple.

“what about here?” he stepped closer. you tried to read his expression but he looked completely emotionless.

“from the same fall, i’m just clumsy.”

“and your neck?”

suna pushed back your lab coat to see the same fingerprint bruises scattered around your neck.

you were suddenly thankful you’d chosen the table in the far back end of the classroom. nobody was ever watching.

“yeah.” you said, practically a whisper. “i’m just really clumsy.”

suna leaned down and looked into your eyes.

“why don’t i believe you?”

“five more minutes!” the professor called, interrupting your intense conversation and the two of you snapped back into action.

you finished your lab report and quickly packed up your stuff before rushing out the classroom door.

suna followed closely behind.

“it’s your boyfriend, isn’t it?”

you stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to look at him. suna’s expression was no longer emotionless. he was angry.

“okay,” you sighed, grabbing his wrist to pull him to a secluded space outside. the two of you sat down under a large tree, away from everyone else.

“yuji gets upset with me and… hurts me… sometimes.” you choked out. “i haven’t told anyone because i’m scared of what he’ll do to me. i haven’t left him because i’m scared of him. i’m stuck.”

you hadn’t said these words out loud to anyone, ever, and the way they were flowing so freely had you crying before you were even aware of it.

“please don’t tell anyo-“

“i’ll take care of it.”

you looked up at him. suna looked completely calm, his voice smooth and gaze held on you.

“what do you mean?”

suna stood up and ran his hands through his hair.

“i mean i’ll take care of it.” he smiled, “see you tomorrow afternoon for tutoring?”

“wait, suna-“

“later!” he gave you a passive wave before walking back towards the university building.

----♡----

that evening you waited for yuji to come by your dorm, but he never did.

you waited for him to call you, but he didn’t.

you worried about what suna had meant. maybe he was going to talk to him, maybe even threaten him. you’d hoped he wouldn’t do that, but you really didn’t know what he was capable of.

surely the rumours about him couldn’t be true. an honour's chemistry major being involved in a more sinister, underground group that nobody even knew if it was real or made up?

he was too nice. there was no way.

----♡----

after class you headed back to your dorm to get ready for your evening. suna had asked you to meet him under the same tree from the day before. around 7pm.

you debated on calling yuji, but ultimately decided against it. maybe he’d come to his senses. maybe he was remorseful, and just wanted to move on. to leave you alone and pretend your relationship never happened.

that was what you wished for the most.

----♡----

you stepped out into the cold evening air. the wind blowing softly and brushing the hair out of your face.

you clutched your books to your chest and took a short cut through the back fields separating the dorms from the main university campus.

you checked your phone, you were early. suna would be there in about 15 minutes.

you reached down to grab your phone when it was immediately snatched from your hands.

“you did this, didn’t you?” a familiar voice snapped at you. you glanced up to see yuji, sporting a similar black eye and a bandaged cut on his cheek.

“i- no, of course not!”

he rolled his eyes at your reply, clearly not willing to listen to a word you were saying. yuji grabbed your wrists, forcing you to drop your books and pushed you against the back wall of the university.

“you did. tell me right now. everything you said. who you said it to. and why.” the look in his eyes was horrifying. scarier than any other look he’s given you before.

this made it seem like his previous bouts of anger were nothing but minor inconveniences.

“i didn’t-“

yuji pulled back, immediately hitting your chin with a hard punch that knocked your head back into the concrete wall.

“try again.”

your vision was hazy. mind blurring memories together and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence.

you felt a warm, wet sensation cascading down the back of your neck and were immediately soothed by the feeling. the warmth was comfortable, even though you didn’t know what it was from.

yuji’s hand wrapped around your throat and he pressed his forehead to yours. his fingers dug roughly into your windpipe, causing you to choke out the remaining air in your lungs. you felt yourself get sleepy, closing your eyes and letting darkness overtake you as your body went limp.

----♡----

“hey, wake up.”

snapping fingers in your face had you looking around curiously. you couldn’t focus on your surroundings. it was unclear who was with you, unclear what was happening around you, and unclear why you were there.

the sounds of multiple men. grunting, panting. speaking quietly between deep breaths and harsh exertion.

what were they doing?

“hey.” the fingers snapped in front of your face again.

“what…” was all you could manage to say. your body felt heavy. weak. you were just so tired. all you wanted to do was fall asleep. you submitted to the exhaustion, closing your eyes again.

“don’t go to sleep.” a soothing voice lifted the back of your neck, pressing something soft against your head. “stay awake and listen to me.”

“ya like beatin’ up girls, huh?”

whack

“wanna put a girl half your size in the hospital, for what? to feel like more of a man?”

whack

“a real man would never hit a woman.”

whack

“a real man would beat the shit out of losers who do hit women, right ‘tsum?”

“right. maybe we’ll even put him in the hospital.”

whack

“oh, he’s gonna be there once we’re done.”

you finally recognized the last voice. it was suna.

he spoke again, his voice raspy and dark but still audible from where you were.

“i hope to fucking god you didn’t hurt her so badly that she’s knocked out…” suna trailed off and let out a small chuckle. “because there’s nothing i want more than for her to hear you cry like a little bitch when this blade goes right…”

the sound of yuji’s sudden scream was immediately muffled by what you were sure was the hand of the other man.

“…through you.”

your eyes widened and you were starting to understand what was happening.

all you could feel around you was danger.

you started to hyperventilate. panic was taking over.

“focus on me. come on, we need to get out of here.”

“who…” your head started to hurt now. badly.

“my name is osamu.” he bent down and cradled you in his arms, bringing you close to his chest and picking you up bridal style. “hold on to me if you can.”

“i’m scared…” you whispered.

“i know.” he murmured, carrying you away from the scene and back through the field. “i’ll keep you safe. we need to go to the hospital.”

“what about…”

“the only thing you need to worry about is stayin’ awake right now, okay? it’ll all be okay.” osamu’s voice was soothing. his body was warm and his strong arms supported your body in a way that made you never want to leave his hold.

you gave him a weak nod. even if you wanted to get away, you couldn’t. so you decided to trust in this man and hope for the best.

----♡----

“hey, sweetheart.” the calm voice of a nurse slowly woke you up. “you’re finally awake.”

“where…” you choked out, your throat was dry and you could barely make out where you were. it was all so… confusing.

“you’re in the hospital.” she said as she stood on her tiptoes to change the fluids on your iv pole. “you were assaulted. your injuries aren’t good but you’ll make a full recovery.”

the nurse leaned back down and held onto your hand. “you have a real knight in shining armour, you know. your boyfriend hasn’t left your side since you were admitted. he’s going to be so happy when he finds out you woke up.”

boyfriend?

your heart started to race at the thought of yuji coming in. you looked around, preparing for the worst when you heard footsteps enter the room.

“hey, sleepyhead.”

“speak of the devil.” the nurse smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. “i’ll let you two have some privacy. please press the call button if you need anything, i’ll come back and check on you soon.”

the footsteps grew closer and you heard the squeak of a chair being pulled up next to your bed. you opened your eyes to see suna giving you a compassionate smile.

“rintaro?” you whispered, “what are you doing here?”

“making sure you’re okay.” he crossed his arms, “been here since you were admitted.”

you tried your hardest to remember even coming to the hospital, but you just couldn’t. everything was gone after your head hit that wall.

“what… happened?” you asked, your eyes pleading for him to be honest.

“someone attacked you and your boyfriend.” suna leaned in, “do you not remember anything?”

“i remember yuji being upset with me…” you blinked, your mind working as hard as it could to remember something of importance. “my head hit the wall and it’s kind of fuzzy after that.”

“i see.” suna nodded.

“wait, how did you know i was in here?”

“some people mentioned an attack on campus. i got worried when you were late for our study session, and when your phone rang and you didn’t answer i felt like something was up.” he shrugged, taking a moment to think of his next words. “i called the hospital and asked if you were here, and then came right over when they confirmed it.”

“oh. okay…” you went to scratch an itch on your scalp and were met with searing pain at the slightest bit of pressure. “ow!”

“careful.” he smiled, taking your hand away from your head. “it’s gonna be sore for a while.”

“yeah…” you trailed off, trying to make sense of the situation. “what happened to yuji?”

“why do you care?”

“huh?” you glanced at suna who’s expression had turned sour.

“why do you care about what happened to him? he could've killed you.”

“i just wanted to know if he…” your voice was shaky and you tried to compose yourself. “if there was a possibility of him coming after me again.”

“not a single chance.” suna leaned over the railing of the hospital bed and took your hand. “besides, even if there was, i won’t let anything happen to you.”

----♡----

you’d found out yuji had suffered from severe injuries almost taking his life. he was beaten, stabbed, and his spinal cord suffered so much damage he was permanently paralyzed from the waist down.

while you were relieved the abuse would be over, you constantly wondered who had assaulted him.

you remembered telling suna and him saying he’d take care of it, surely that wasn’t him, right? there was no way suna could do something like that.

----♡----

months went by while you recovered from your injuries. you’d been discharged from the hospital after 3 weeks, and suna had stuck by your side every day.

“i’m happy to say you’ve essentially made a full recovery.” the doctor smiled, shaking your hand. “i’m so proud of your progress. you’re truly a walking miracle.”

“what about my memory?” you asked, “when will i remember what happened?”

“oh, you might not ever remember. you hit your head hard and from what we gather, you were unconscious.” the doctor stood up, clutching his clip board before walking out. “it’s probably for the best that you don’t remember what happened. you should focus on moving on, now. take care.”

----♡----

“well, should we celebrate?” suna asked as you walked out of the hospital together. you stopped, causing him to turn and look down at you. “what’s up?”

“i just wanted to say thank you…” you said, feeling your face getting hot. “i don’t think i could’ve done this without you.”

“you could’ve. you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met.” he leaned down, brushing the hair out of your face. the same hair that used to cover the deep bruises, now showing your true complexion. “and the most beautiful.”

you felt your heart flutter at his sudden compliment. suna’s hands found your waist and you instinctively draped your arms over his shoulders.

“you really mean that?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“of course i do.” he smiled, leaning in to give you the long awaited kiss the two of you had been dying for. his lips were soft and you melted into his arms. he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. “beautiful in every possible way.”

you felt tears well up as you were being complimented. the sweetest, kindest, most handsome man touching you so delicately and speaking to you with nothing but respect.

you'd completely fallen in love with him, and it was everything you ever could’ve asked for.

----♡----

a few weeks after the two of you made it official, your honeymoon phase was in full force. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. you were experiencing your first true relationship that made you feel loved and you cherished at every moment.

one evening, you decided to go to suna’s dorm to surprise him.

knock knock

“rintaro?” you called out, opening the door to let yourself in. “are you home?”

“in here, baby.” he replied from the kitchen. he was sharing an apartment style dorm with two other men, but you hadn’t met them yet. they weren’t ever there when you were.

“we finally get to meet your girl, huh?” one of them cooed as you walked in. he had dyed blonde hair and smirked at you as you walked by. “damn, she’s a looker, huh ‘samu?”

samu… why did that sound familiar?

“don’t be such a pig.” the other boy replied. you realized they were twins when he stood up and walked over to you. he smiled, holding out his hand. “nice to meet ya, i’m osamu.”

osamu.

no.

“my name is osamu…”

it couldn’t be.

“…hold on to me if you can.”

no, no, no.

the memories of the night of the assault came flooding back to you.

it only took a moment to realize...

...it wasn’t a random assault at all.

#suna drabble #rintaro suna #suna angst #rintaro suna angst #haikyuu angst #yandere haikyuu #yandere suna #yandere #haikyuu #suna #osamu miya #atsumu miya #miya twins #inarizaki angst #atsumu angst #osamu angst

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