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ruvviks · 1 year

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Chapter >> 16 [x] Characters >> Matvey Dobrynin (oc), Nadya Dobrynina (oc), Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc) Total >> 8.1k words Warnings >> Alcohol mention, arguing, blood, death, descriptions of drowning, gore, injuries, smoking (/+ relapse), transphobia (one implied instance of deadnaming in part 1, some instances of misgendering in part 3), violence

Vitali could not open his eyes.

He wanted to, of course he did; surrounded by screams and cries for help and gunfire and people running around, running right into him and shoving him aside but catching him before he could fall- yet he found himself unable to, eyelids heavy and eyelashes stuck to his skin with a dried up substance he had not yet been able to identify.

Every step he set forward hurt, painful jabs shooting up his spine to his neck; though a searing pain in his left forearm drew his attention more than anything else, warm liquid trickling down his skin and dripping on the floor from his fingertips.

He was dreaming.

He knew he was; he often did, yet remained unable to do anything about it or to control whatever was happening around him. Simply a passenger in his own body, though still more aware than he would sometimes be when fully awake- it almost felt like mockery, in a way.

Vitali reached for his face, bloodied fingers clawing at the dried up blood covering his face and keeping his eyes shut tight- nails tearing open skin and drawing even more of it, dark red tears heavy on his cheeks as they stained his pale visage.

The screaming surrounding him became louder, and louder- as well as the ringing in his right ear, drowning out the noises behind him and wrapping around him like a safe and warm blanket fresh out of a basket of dried laundry. Though it made him feel the exact opposite; and he kept scratching, and scratching, and scratching-

And he opened his eyes.

‘Vitali?’

The hallway was quiet and dark, the flashlight of Vitali’s phone only slightly illuminating the path in front of him toward his bedroom door- but his attention was fixed on the other end of the hallway, where his father stood motionless, cold eyes staring at him from behind his reading glasses.

‘Party lasted a little longer than I had thought,’ Vitali quietly said, almost as a reflex; an instinctive answer, as he watched Matvey slowly walk closer to him and Vitali expected him to reach out, pluck that half smoked cigarette out of his hair for him-

But instead his father grabbed his wrist and lifted it up and when Vitali looked down his arm was a deep crimson color, drenched in his own blood as his skin peeled away revealing bright red flesh and exposed bone.

He opened his mouth to scream but no sound left his throat as his vision faded, Matvey disappearing into nothing but his grip on Vitali’s wrist leaving a burning imprint on his skin. It felt like he was falling; tumbling backwards into the void of his own nightmare, heart pounding in his chest and breathing panicked and shallow while he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to wake up-

‘How dare you show your face here again!’

Nadya’s voice cut through the silence surrounding him and suddenly Vitali felt solid ground under his feet once more. He opened his eyes; found himself back in that poorly lit hallway in that Megabuilding, his mother standing right in front of him- shorter than him, far below his eye level, yet towering over him at the very same time.

‘You’re not welcome here anymore,’ she spat, adding a name to her statement; a name Vitali had not heard in a long time yet one that cut deeper than any knife could ever cut, one that hurt more than any pain he had ever had to endure in his entire life.

All the things he wanted to say to her; yet no words left his lips as he watched her turn around and walk back into her apartment- no, it was his childhood home now, the apartment on the pier of Wellsprings, right next to where he lived nowadays- and Ravager was there too, mangled, two dead eyes staring straight ahead and a gaping hole in his forehead, a grin far too wide to be natural decorating the lower half of his face-

Vitali’s body was locked in place. He could not even turn his head away or close his eyes when his mother fell into the corpse’s arms and kissed him and-

He was falling again.

He could hear rushing water around him; and before he could even finish that thought he fell into an ice cold river, the current instantly pulling him down by his legs and he could only just suck in a deep breath before his head was entirely submerged.

He was unable to tell what was up and what was down, his body being wildly flung around in the water and hitting rocks and pieces of wood and whatever else got in his way. He could barely see anything- only flashes of light and darkness spinning in circles around him, spots dancing in front of his eyes as the oxygen in his lungs steadily began to run out-

His arm got caught between something. But the stream did not stop dragging him along.

And before Vitali knew it his arm was no longer attached to his torso and the deep blue water around him colored red as he opened his mouth to scream, to cry out in pain yet the pain did not come- and instead his mouth filled with water and so did his windpipe and his lungs-

He knew what dying felt like.

Vitali bolted up, the cool air of his bedroom like tiny needles in his throat as he gasped for breath and instinctively moved his hand to his neck. His shaking fingertips collided with burning hot and sweaty skin; and even the lightest of pressure hurt, despite the time that had passed the dark bruising Ravager’s hands had left still fresh and painful with every touch.

Tears blurred his vision and he lowered his hand again, the initial pain in his neck now burning through his shoulder down to his forearm. Tightly wrapped in bandages; though the pressure was not enough to distract from the searing and stinging sensation the gaping wound had left him with.

He slowly moved closer to the edge of the bed, shaking hand reaching for the glass of water and bottle of painkillers on his nightstand. One, two- surely three wouldn’t kill him, just this once- quickly swallowed them all, washed them down with the lukewarm water from last night.

It was daytime. Vincent was no longer there in bed with him, and the curtains were already partially open. Though it did not do much; heavy rain and thunder plagued Night City, leaving Vitali’s bedroom mostly in the dark despite it already being close to noon.

His gaze lingered on the window as he sat in complete silence, hands resting on his lap as he tried to catch his breath- and with every second that passed, the pain in his body slowly faded away, until he was left with just the feeling of his own heartbeat in the place where his mantis blade used to be.

For a brief moment, he had truly believed he was going to die.

Again- His heart stopping like it had done before, but permanently this time- getting choked to death by Ravager with none of his friends there to save him, just like they had been unable to save him before.

Vitali’s hand subconsciously moved to his neck again, rolling thunder in the distance briefly drowning out the ringing in his ears. The swelling was mostly gone by then; though he still had trouble breathing, the inside of his throat raw and every inhale and exhale like a weight being pressed down onto his chest.

His father had saved him.

It made sense, in a way, Vitali supposed. Matvey had made it clear his intention was not to kill his son; he simply wanted to take everything from Vitali like he believed Vitali had done to him. And for that, he needed him alive.

Yet something about it did not feel right.

But Vitali was unable to put his finger on what.

He slowly rose to his feet, leaving his hearing aid on his nightstand and using the wall as support as he walked and slowly made his way to the hallway of his penthouse, and then the living room. Some lights were on- one in the kitchen, one above the coffee table- yet the room was empty, Mikhail at work to keep business going with Cato, and Vincent presumably in the bathroom.

Vitali was craving something.

He was hungry- yet not nearly hungry enough to walk into the kitchen and make himself some breakfast. His hands were restless; fingers fumbling as he tucked the edge of his t-shirt into his sweatpants, pulled it out again, and tucked it back in.

More distant thunder echoed through the dark skies of Night City as Vitali wandered over to the entrance of his penthouse’s balcony and he picked up his cigarette case and lighter from the cabinet beside it. He rarely smoked anymore; not as if it mattered at all, since the stuff inside was fake anyway.

Though lately he had reached for his case a lot more often than before, and the usual cravings- keeping his hands busy for a while, subconsciously regulating his breathing with the act- were not as easily satisfied as in the way they used to.

As if he was missing something now.

I won’t let it get to that.

A somewhat ironic thought, as Vitali opened the balcony door, flicked out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the tasteless smoke and exhaling through his nose. He had said the same about his alcohol intake at some point in time- and he had not been able to keep his word for that, either.

‘Thought I heard something.’

The corners of Vitali’s mouth curled up in a light smile upon hearing Vincent’s voice faintly behind him and he leaned sideways against the doorway, free hand instinctively reaching out- and Vincent took his hand in both his own, giving it a soft squeeze as he walked closer.

For many years, Vitali had been alone.

It had never done him any good; despite his longing for some solitude for most of his childhood, fed up with his family and wanting nothing more than to get away from them for good and to have a place he could call his own.

But once he had gotten exactly what he had wanted, those four decrepit walls of that poor excuse of an apartment in the Glen had been unable to keep him company throughout most of his early years as an adult. And when he had moved after finally making a comfortable living at Arasaka, the luxurious home he had found himself in had been about as empty as the gaping hole the absence of family and friends had left in his chest.

Vitali clenched his jaw as he took another drag from his cigarette, sharp exhale leaving his chest while Vincent leaned against him with a soft sigh, thumb gently running over the back of Vitali’s cold, lightly shaking hand.

Even the penthouse he lived in now had once been too big and too empty for just him alone. A busy day at his office followed by a quiet and lonely night, right next to the building he had grown up in; a balcony that overlooked the ocean, its vast deepness stretching as far as the eye could see.

Vitali had often stood there, where he stood now; smoking a cigarette, staring at the ocean and listening to the sounds of the city below, feeling the cool wind in his hair and on his skin. He would stand there and wonder- wonder what else was there for him, wonder if he could ever get the comfort he used to have when he’d been younger back.

And he had, eventually.

He had found it again with Vincent, and now he no longer slept alone- and with Mikhail living with them too it would only be on rare occasions he would find himself all by himself at home. Even if he was, he still had their cats Nibbles and Sapphire to keep him company, to make him feel at ease.

Though in that moment, even with Vincent’s arms loosely wrapped around his waist and his breath hot in his neck, Vitali was more on edge than he had been in a very long time.

‘Lot of static in the air today,’ Vincent suddenly hummed, pressing a soft kiss on Vitali’s shoulder. ‘Pretty high up- might wanna close the door.’

‘You’re right- sorry.’ A pang of shame tightened Vitali’s chest and he quickly extinguished the barely smoked cigarette, tossing it in the ashtray on the table of the balcony before stepping back inside and closing the door. ‘Did not think that through.’

‘No worries. Your head’s elsewhere, I understand.’

Vitali could barely look his boyfriend in the eyes as he turned toward him, allowing Vincent to gently brush some of his hair out of his face. It was a little damp, still- his feverish night had left him sweating, and he had not yet taken a moment to clean himself up.

He was bracing himself.

Tension lingered in the air around them though not merely because of the thunder clouds hanging over town; Vitali knew Vincent was holding something back, recognizing his little mannerisms and nervous tics and knowing exactly what would come next.

‘When are we going to talk about it?’

There it is.

Vitali closed his eyes and leaned in to Vincent’s touch, fingertips tingling on his skin as they dragged down his temple to his cheek. A situation all too familiar to him; a conversation between him and Mikhail at the very start of that year, a much needed talk yet neither of them had been ready for it in the slightest-

He couldn’t do it again.

‘There is not much to talk about,’ he promptly replied, opening his eyes again and straightening his back. He opened his mouth to say something else- perhaps to try and elaborate further, or to change the subject- yet no sound left his lips, words escaping him the second he noticed Vincent clenching his jaw and lightly shaking his head in response.

Vitali was not necessarily a conflict-avoidant man. Plenty of proof for it to be found in his past- and especially now as a fixer it was more than often a necessary means to an end, and he knew very well it was of no use to continue to try and squeeze around the elephant in the room.

Whenever things needed to be talked about, he was more than willing to talk about it; knowing exactly what would happen were things to be left unsaid, what would happen if he would let it all pile up and explode at the wrong place and time with the wrong person on the receiving end.

But Vitali was exhausted.

Just like he had been with Mikhail. They had never fought before, ever, in all their years of knowing each other- and it had not needed to turn into a fight yet it still had, and it still haunted Vitali to that very day.

‘Somethin’ needs to happen,’ Vincent quietly said, fingers fumbling with the collar of Vitali’s t-shirt, eyes staring straight ahead yet just past Vitali’s face. ‘I feel like we’re just stuck now. What are we waiting for?’

Oh, how Vitali wished Vincent would stop talking.

He didn’t even know the answer to the question. What was he waiting for? He couldn’t even recall how much time had passed exactly since the death of- hell, Vitali could not even remember the man’s name- and he had no idea what Matvey had been doing in the meantime, either.

‘He won’t come to his senses.’ Vincent briefly paused and bit his lower lip, lightly shaking his head again as he lowered his gaze. ‘You’ve given him time, Vito- every fuckin’ opportunity to take a step back, to stop doing this-’

‘He saved my life.’

The words had left Vitali’s lips before he could stop himself.

No turning back now- Vincent looked back up at him, a somewhat questioning look on his face, mouth still half open as he had stopped mid-sentence. Vitali clenched his jaw, heartbeat picking up in his chest as he shrugged and spoke again.

‘He spared me.’

‘Are you sure?’

That didn’t land well.

Vitali sharply inhaled through his nose and froze in place, heart dropping in his chest as Vincent’s words settled in his head.

His mind instantly wandered back to that day- as much as he had tried to push it all as far back as possible, as much as he had tried to ignore it- and the vivid memories of Matvey’s gun aimed at his head, of the weight of Ravager’s corpse on top of him, of the ringing in his ears from the gunshot that had echoed through the room when Matvey had pulled the trigger-

Yet suddenly Vitali was not sure anymore.

‘What?’

A coldness to his voice he could not stop from spilling from his lips as he spoke, as much as he tried to. And Vincent clearly noticed- nervously shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he straightened his back a little bit and quickly pulled his hands away from Vitali’s clothes.

‘You were- I dunno, I just… You were bleeding out, and it could’ve easily been just-’

‘He was there, okay?’

‘Okay.’

Vitali knew.

His mind easily played tricks on him. And what Vincent said, made perfect sense to him.

Yet his words had sounded just a little too familiar to Vitali’s liking- unintentionally so, he assumed- similar to how his mother used to question everything Vitali would say to the point he would forget about entire situations that had happened only minutes ago merely because of Nadya's doubt.

He could already barely trust his own mind now that Arasaka had toyed with it. The last thing he needed was someone else making it worse.

‘I saw him,’ he finally spoke, a flash of lightning outside causing the lamp above the coffee table to briefly flicker. ‘He was- Please don’t- Don’t say things like that.’

‘Sorry.’

They could barely look at each other, now.

The storm had picked up outside, rain slamming itself into the windows of the penthouse and the wind howling almost loud enough for Vitali to be unable to hear what Vincent was saying.

They’d had their disagreements before. Vincent was bold enough to speak up if he believed something had to be said- about anything, from their personal lives to everything related to their respective jobs. Both of them a little stubborn, both of them a little prideful- but both of them also mature enough to own up for their mistakes, and realize when they were in the wrong.

This was different.

‘Look,’ Vincent suddenly started again, a bit more volume to his voice now that it was no longer as quiet in the room as before. ‘All I’m sayin’ is that the longer we let him and his mercs run free-’

‘That is the whole point,’ Vitali cut him off- gently, or, at least, as gentle as he could. ‘His mercenaries are all still there. They might work for him, but they’re out for my blood either way because they feel like I betrayed them! What’s the point of killing him specifically right now?’

He was grasping at straws, mostly. Trying to buy himself some time- trying to come up with a better answer for Vincent that would be satisfying enough so they could move on from it, at least for the time being. They could continue the conversation at a later point in time, come up with a plan when Vitali no longer felt like someone was hammering his brain black and blue-

But he knew the more he spoke, the further he would dig his own grave.

‘We’ll deal with ‘em in time,’ Vincent responded, and he now took a slight step to the side to be able to catch Vitali’s gaze again.

‘Look- I know this is difficult for you, but your father is the root of the problem. We’ve established this- he’s not showing any change- and I think we’ve waited long enough now.’

‘Why not just deal with mercs, then?’ Vitali fired back.

‘We’ve been doing that! There’s so many of them and he keeps sending more.’ Vincent licked his lips and vaguely gestured outside. ‘Your father has resources, Vito! He’s got connections, he’s got corporations in his pocket- We kill his mercs, how long before he’s got a bunch of new gonkheads workin’ for him?’

‘So we take his resources away. Cut his contacts, let him-’

‘Oh, the same thing he’s doing to you right now? The same thing he’s currently failing so fantastically at? That’s your suggestion?’

‘What else do you want me to fucking say?’

Vitali’s heart was beating high in his chest and he was starting to become light-headed. He watched as Vincent scoffed and took a few steps away from him, shrugging again and throwing his hands up in exasperation.

And Vitali understood. He knew what it looked like from anyone else’s perspective- why the fuck was he even protecting his father, after everything that had happened?

But he couldn’t do it.

He hadn’t been able to, even when he’d had the chance.

‘So much fucking time has passed by now,’ Vincent said, his voice low and his eyes unfocused, and filled with tears. ‘So much fucking time- and nothing’s changed!’

‘He isn’t out to kill me-’ Vitali started, Vincent was not done.

‘He’s not-? Not yet, no! And everyone else is expendable to him!’ He sucked in a deep, shaky breath and wildly gestured around the room. ‘How long before he’s gonna kill someone else-’

‘We are not going to kill my father and that’s an order!’

Vitali’s voice echoed through the room, like thunder booming through the desolate streets of the city down below. It startled him a little- and it startled Vincent as well, his shoulders tensing up and a shaky exhale leaving his lips the second it happened.

Silence washed over the penthouse as the rain outside settled down, sky slowly clearing up and a single ray of sunlight brightly illuminating the space between the two men near the balcony door. Realization hit the both of them at once; and while Vitali’s chest tightened and a knot took shape in his throat, Vincent simply relaxed, dropping his arms past his body as another scoff left his mouth.

‘Right.’ He stepped back, visibly biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes wandered off into the rest of the living room and he did a mocking salute in Vitali’s direction. ‘Yessir.’

‘Vincent-’ Vitali pleaded, stepping forward and-

‘V, please.’

The sharp edge to his words cut deep into Vitali’s skin and he closed his eyes, heart shattering into a million pieces and for a second- just for a brief second- he wondered if he was still asleep, still trapped in that feverish nightmare, still trying desperately to wake up-

But when he opened his eyes he was still in the same position as before and Vincent still could not look at him, a single tear rolling down his cheek when he spoke again.

‘Just V.’

You did this to yourself, Vitali.

Unable to just keep his stubborn mouth shut, unable to ask if they could talk about it some other time. Wanting things to be resolved immediately- and making it worse with every word he said instead, unintentional perhaps, but it was far too late to try and take anything back now.

Vitali stood in complete silence as he watched V wander away from him further until he reached the stairs and dropped himself down on top of the second-to-last step, elbows resting on his knees and hands in his hair.

He had not meant to say the things he’d said- well, mainly the last words that had left his lips. Out of character, even for him as a fixer; Vitali had never been one to mindlessly order people around, even back at Arasaka it had set him apart from his colleagues.

God, why had he said that?

Vitali’s hands were fumbling with his t-shirt again, restless as they had been when he had entered the room. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and leaned back against the window, gaze fixed on the ceiling high above his head, jaw clenched and attention focused on anything but V’s unstable breathing.

Tell him you’re sorry. Fucking say something- anything.

‘I couldn’t do it,’ Vitali suddenly heard himself say.

He blinked a few times, a desperate attempt to drag himself back to reality, to get himself back into his body- and when he did, V’s attention was on him again, though he did not move from his position on the stairs nor could he hold Vitali’s gaze.

‘I had him,’ he continued, and slowly pushed himself away from the window again as he made a pistol with his fingers and held it out in front of him, closing one eye as he pretended to fire it at the wall.

‘I had him, V. Lined up in my sights. His gun was not aimed at either of us- I could have pulled the trigger. It would’ve been done.’

A wry smile spread on Vitali’s face and he lowered his hand again, the smile fading as the knot in his stomach tightened and the memories flooded back into his brain.

‘I just couldn’t do it.’

Something had stopped him. Memories- of another lifetime, it had felt like- memories of himself and Matvey in that dark hallway of their home, just the two of them and nobody else. It had happened so many times; and not a single time had he been angry with Vitali.

It had always bothered him a little bit. Something about those moments was different.

But Vitali was unable to put his finger on what.

‘I don’t care what you think of me, or what anyone else thinks,’ he finally continued, straightening his back and running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. ‘I don’t care what you would have done in my situation- I cannot kill my father and I will not let any of you do it either.’

It wouldn’t solve anything.

Neither would doing nothing- and he knew that. He knew that very well.

But deep within, at his core, Vitali Dobrynin was not a killer, and he did not have it in him to be responsible for the end of his father’s life.

Vitali slowly turned away to look outside, the sky clear now that the storm had passed. It felt wrong, somehow; the bright sun a stark contrast to the uneasy feeling that had settled deep within his chest and stomach and caused the hairs on his arms to stand up straight. Out of the corner of his eye he could still see the threatening clouds in the distance, moving over Pacifica toward the Badlands.

‘I’m sorry, V,’ he quietly said, his gaze finding the merc’s reflection in the window. ‘I know this is not what you want to hear. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to let it get to this. I’m sorry.’

His apology wouldn’t set it right, nor would it change anything. But he meant it.

He meant it so deeply.

Vitali watched in complete silence as V finally moved- slowly rose to his feet and sucked in a deep breath, adjusted his clothes a bit- then walked a little closer to him, though hesitantly, and he stopped a lot earlier than Vitali wanted him to.

‘I’m sorry, too,’ he quietly said while Vitali turned around to face him again, and he crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest. ‘It’s just- becoming a bit too much, I think.’

Months had gone by.

Months of uncertainty, months of fear; they’d had their moments of peace, but Matvey’s presence had continued to loom over them every passing day, casting a dark shadow over Vitali- and over everyone who got too close to him.

Of course he understood V’s frustration. Of course he understood his mercenaries were starting to doubt him, and of course he understood why the Council no longer trusted him either.

And perhaps if he had been just a little bit less in control of himself- if he had been just a little less certain of who he was, and what he believed in-

Perhaps he would have already given up by then.

After all, it did make sense to him. Arasaka had toyed with his mind- he could’ve easily made his father up. Could’ve easily done it all himself, in his convenient absence each and every time tragedy would strike.

It would have been a genius plan, Vitali had to admit- well within his capabilities too, he could have pulled it off.

But that was not who he was. He would never do something like that.

Vitali clenched his jaw and took a hesitant step in V’s direction, reaching out a hand with a questioning look on his face; but V merely held his arms tightly crossed and averted his gaze in response.

‘Had it been anyone else-’ Vitali quietly said, lowering his arm and letting it dangle past his side.

‘I know,’ V quickly replied, ‘I know. It’s your father.’

Family was complicated.

All of them had hesitated, in a way- Daniil reconsidering Vitali’s cry for help, Roksana giving in to his request to stay out of it, Nadya tiptoeing around the inevitable conversation that had been about to ensue- but at the end of all things they had not chosen Vitali.

Daniil had left to be with his own family- his wife, a child on the way- and Roksana had left to be alone, away from all of them to build something up herself. And Nadya had stayed; but not for Vitali, and not for Matvey, but for Ravager of all people, and now with the cyborg dead and rotting in some NCPD morgue Vitali did not know what his mother would do.

But Matvey was different. Somehow.

He had killed Ravager. Had saved Vitali’s life. Had chosen to do so- and Vitali was unable to let it go.

‘Cato and Misha are trying to find his base of operations,’ he said, visibly startling V by accident with the sudden sound of his voice. ‘Once we find it, we take down his mercs, take his resources. And maybe-’

Vitali couldn’t finish his sentence.

‘I don’t know,’ he cut himself off, pushing the thought of pulling the trigger on his father out of his head. ‘I suppose I’m still hoping for something to happen.’

‘Guess only time will tell.’

Silence fell over the room and V finally relaxed, exhaustion washing over his figure as he bit the inside of his cheek again and looked at anything except for Vitali. And Vitali could not stop himself from trying again, reaching out a hesitant hand in hopes V would-

‘I- I need some space,’ V quietly said. ‘I’ll be in Misha’s room for a bit.’

Vitali found himself frozen in position, hand still mid-air and heart still racing in his chest. His initial reaction was a familiar one- it’s not fucking fair- but he doubted that was true, and wisely kept his mouth shut.

He and V had never once argued like they’d had just now, in the entire year they had been together- or since they had met, for that matter. And just like with Mikhail it did not feel right to stand there, in the very same room yet somehow with so much distance between them, the air around them still static and tense as if any other spoken word would cause another thunderstorm to roll in.

Vitali watched as V glanced in his direction then turned on his heels, hurried pace through the living room and back into the hallway leading to the bathroom and bedrooms.

‘I’m sorry,’ he quickly said, before V could vanish behind the wall. He stopped in his tracks, and visibly hesitated- yet did not turn around as he spoke one final time.

‘I know.’

And Vitali was alone in the room again.

The pressure that had been building up in his head now reached its peak, the echo of his heartbeat heavy and painful against his skull as if threatening to beat its way through. It spread downward, to just behind his eyes- but the tears wouldn’t come, eyes unfocused but dry and he simply did not have the energy in him to cry.

He slowly inhaled and turned back around, balling his shaky hand into a fist and placing his knuckles against the glass of the window. Oh, how satisfying it would feel to punch through it- feel the glass shatter underneath his touch, feel the shards stick into skin and flesh and leave bruises and blood behind.

It wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t even make him feel better.

So instead Vitali straightened his back and carefully opened the door of his penthouse’s balcony again, closing his eyes when a soft and gentle breeze hit his skin and moved through his hair. He reached out for his case- flicked a cigarette out, put it between his lips- and despite the weight of his lighter in his hand feeling more like a burden than a relief this time, he lit it, the tasteless smoke not satisfying any of his needs but at least keeping him busy for some minutes.

A distraction was all he needed, sometimes.

The thunderstorm outside had picked up again.

Worse than earlier that afternoon; each flash of lightning was accompanied by at least two more, the booming thunder like explosions mere milliseconds afterwards echoing through the streets of Charter Hill.

An impressive display of weather- the pitch black sky illuminated by bolt after bolt, their crackled imprints in the clouds like cracks in dark marble. It wasn’t raining, now; and with the air still suffocatingly hot it made sense for a window to be open, despite the thunder effectively drowning out any other noise inside the tall office building.

A genius plan, really. Hiding in plain sight- just another corpo building like any other in the district- no one would bat an eye. And no one would come looking there either, as it had turned out; perhaps Vitali was expecting more secret hideouts, more decrepit old Arasaka facilities no longer in use by the corporation.

Oh, Vitali.

The spacious office was dark, barely any natural light pouring in from the windows and Matvey had not bothered to get up and turn on the ceiling lights either. He was sat at his desk- arms draped over the arm rests of his chair, cigarette dangling between his fingers- and stared straight ahead, mind completely elsewhere as he listened to the storm outside.

He was no longer the respectable man he used to be. Had barely found the energy that morning to make himself look presentable- and by then his hair was no longer neatly slicked back and instead fell in strands down his forehead, he had removed his tie and the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, collar pulled to the side slightly revealing a deep-set scar his visit to the Arasaka event earlier that month had left him with.

He brought the cigarette to his lips, eyes fluttering shut the second another explosion of thunder shook all the windows of his office. The fumes made him nauseous; he had not smoked in years. Yet somehow he was already on his third that day.

Everything had changed, when Matvey Dobrynin lost his job.

He had lost his position in Arasaka; a position he’d fought so hard for, for years, a decent position that had finally provided him the respect and admiration he’d always thought he deserved. He’d lost his stable income, his healthcare benefits- his insurance too, and a large chunk of his savings.

But Matvey was a resourceful man. He’d had no doubt his opportunities would be plentiful even after his unfortunate departure from the corporation. Perhaps no longer on Arasaka grounds- perhaps Kang Tao would want to hire him, or Militech, considering his strong ties with them through Arasaka’s Finances Division- but that would have been alright with him, as long as he could restore some of his dignity he’d lost on the way down.

But Nadya had different plans.

Had it just been Matvey who had been fired, who knows what would have happened? He could still vividly remember his wife’s rage when she too had lost her job, and could still vividly remember how she had spent night after night after night in the living room trying to figure out what had happened, what had gone wrong, why they had been sent away.

He slowly raised his cigarette again, rolling it between his fingers as he stared at the lightly burning end of it, the ashes dropping down onto his desk. Barely smoked- but he still pressed it out in the ashtray sitting in front of him, watching the smoke dissipate in the stuffy air of his office.

Vitali’s fault, somehow. Nadya had always been quick to blame their son- though with a significant lack of respect for his identity- and Matvey had barely believed her at first.

But after doing some more digging in Arasaka’s archives together he had been left with no other choice.

Loud, rapid knocking on the door dragged Matvey out of his thoughts and he glanced up, inhaling deeply as he straightened his back and allowed his mercs access to his office with a “come in”, only just loud enough to be heard over the thunderstorm outside. A tall, bald man covered in faded Valentinos tattoos and his scrawny, cyborg friend- Sanders and Dusty, if he remembered correctly- entered; and from their faces Matvey could instantly tell something was wrong.

Of course he knew what was going on- his mercenaries were getting impatient. They wondered what they were waiting for; still loyal enough to wait for his signal but their inability to sit still and follow his exact orders was causing them to get nervous, and restless.

‘What’s the plan, boss?’ Sanders plainly asked, stopping in his tracks right before the desk, hand tapping on the side of his thigh. His pale eyes bore holes through Matvey’s forehead and his jaw appeared tightly clenched- holding back his words, his entire body language showing the fixer he was barely able to contain himself.

A quick assessment of the situation at hand- Matvey knew well enough it was necessary when dealing with unpredictable guns for hire and his keen eye for anything out of the ordinary had saved his ass several times before already. He slowly leaned back in his seat and crossed one leg over the other; and in that very same movement he carefully drew a gun from a hidden compartment just below the tabletop of his desk, and rested it on his thigh with his finger ready beside the trigger.

‘We have discussed this before,’ he spoke, not batting an eye when Sanders scoffed and took a small step back, almost bumping into Dusty in the process. ‘You wait for my signal while I plan our next move. Make yourself useful in the armory, if you so please- go over our supplies, do a workout.’

So much had changed, since the beginning of it all- Matvey was not even sure anymore where it had gone wrong. Perhaps Nadya losing interest after her initial anger had pushed him to take action was what had caused everything to spiral; perhaps he himself had gone too far in his quest for revenge, somewhere along the way; or perhaps his mercenaries taking control over situations and wreaking havoc across town at a much larger scale than he had ever intended for was letting it all get out of hand, to the point he had to wonder for how much longer he would be able to control them at all.

And ever since the last time he saw Vitali- bloodied and beaten and nearly choked to death by Ravager, mantis blade ripped out of his arm- he was no longer sure what he was even doing it all for anymore.

So much time had passed, so many things had changed; it was hard to tell who had caused the chain of dominos to start falling in the first place.

‘What’s next? You gonna start makin’ us do your paperwork for you?’ Sanders suddenly asked, a faint smile lingering on his face but Matvey knew he was not playing around. The merc wandered closer again and rested his hands on the desk, leaning forward- a poor attempt at intimidation- and he slightly tilted his head, eyes narrowing when he noticed Matvey did not react.

‘It’s been days,’ he said. ‘Thought you said he’s injured- what’s the fuckin’ holdup? You wanna hit ‘im where it hurts, should’a struck a day or two ago. My people are gettin’ agitated- the boys are gonna pick up crocheting as a hobby at this rate!’

‘Your people?’ Matvey repeated, raising his eyebrows as he suddenly leaned forward and placed his forearms on his desk, revealing the gun in his hand- causing Sanders to jump back immediately, and Dusty to follow suit.

‘As far as I’m concerned I am still in charge here,’ he continued, running his finger over the side of the gun neatly placed on his desk, the barrel aimed directly at the merc stood in front of him. ‘I have made the terms of the contract you signed clear when you signed it; it is not up for negotiation and even if it was- this is no way to bring that up in a civilized conversation.’

‘You’re not gettin’ shit done,’ Sanders bluntly replied. ‘Thought we had a plan- thought we had a deal.’

‘And the deal is still on and you will get what you came to me for.’ Matvey paused, slightly tilting his head as he waited for the weight of his words to settle in Sanders’ pea of a brain. ‘Vitali will pay for what he did to you- to all of you. In time. Patience, Sanders.’

‘Runnin’ a little thin these days.’ Sanders licked his lips, and a grin spread on his face. ‘My boys say you’re goin’ soft.’

Do they now?

Matvey did not care what they thought of him. His mercs meant nothing in the bigger picture of things- nothing more than a bunch of disloyal cunts who abandoned Vitali the second he hadn't been there to change their diapers anymore.

Sure, right for the taking for Matvey- but who in their right mind would put their full trust in people willing to get up and walk away that easily?

‘Listen, Dobrynin,’ Sanders slowly said and walked closer again, about as close to the desk as he could physically get- no longer worried by the gun resting on top, perhaps overtaken by bravery, perhaps by mere foolishness.

‘I don’t know what happened last time you saw him, and frankly I don’t care. Maybe we failed this time- what’s the big deal? There’s several other events lined up- the fundraiser in a week, that gala you mentioned? Just kill another guy and blame it on ‘im, get it over with!’

‘If we strike too often we will raise suspicion and draw Arasaka’s attention toward us,’ Matvey calmly responded, but Sanders was already not listening anymore.

‘You’re just like him!’ he yelled and scoffed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. ‘Always waiting. Just a bit longer- just to see what happens. And for fuckin’ what? Your fuckin’ piece of shit failure of a son took everything from us, he took everything from you, and you’re just lettin’ him get away with it? If it weren’t for your fuckin’ contract I would’ve already strangled the life out of him a long fuckin’ time-’

BANG!

Something inside Matvey snapped.

He stood motionless behind his desk, chair fallen to the floor; gun tightly in his hand, finger still solidly around the trigger, the booming noise and echo of the gunshot drowned out by the thunderstorm but the ringing left like an alarm in his ears.

Sanders lay motionless on the floor in front of him, a large pool of blood taking shape underneath his corpse and staining the concrete floor. Another body to bury- or, burn, he supposed- one of many, just another tally mark on the wall of those who had lost their lives on his path of revenge.

Matvey watched the blood spread over the floor as his heartbeat slowly settled down, a tight knot in his throat making it hard to breathe; and he lowered his gun but kept his finger around the trigger, his grip so tight he almost feared he would accidentally fire it a second time.

He had not meant for that to happen.

Whether that was actually true or he simply told himself that to ease his mind, he was not sure- not as if it mattered. All he wondered was why; what had caused his anger to overtake him to such a degree he had felt the need to-

‘Sir?’

Dusty had taken a few hesitant steps closer, his voice unmistakably unstable as he spoke. Matvey blinked and turned to look at him- and a single glance was enough to cause the other man to stop in his tracks and freeze on the spot.

‘Leave,’ he heard himself say, voice low as he gestured to the entrance of his office with the gun still in his hand.

‘Should I get some people to clean this u-’

‘I said leave.’

‘Yes, sir. Of course.’

Matvey dropped the gun on his desk as Dusty hurriedly left the room, the door slamming shut a lot louder than necessary causing Matvey’s shoulders to tense up. He absently turned around and set his chair back on the floor- then sank down into it, running a hand through his hair as his eyes wandered back to the still growing pool of blood underneath Sanders’ body.

‘That traitor took everything from us. And you’re just going to let her get away with it?’

Nadya’s voice boomed through the living room, the sharp edge to her words cutting through like a knife carving into skin and flesh and from the corner of his eye Matvey could see Roksana flinch on the couch.

‘We don’t know what happened to him,’ Matvey plainly answered. ‘It could all just be a misunderstanding-’

‘We have lost our fucking jobs! They are not going to give it back!’

Nadya cursed loudly and kicked against one of the chairs at the table, the noises of it echoing through the space surrounding them- and with that, Daniil stood up from the couch and guided his sister out of the room, shooting a single glare at his father on their way out.

‘What the fuck are you protecting her for?’ Nadya cried, leaning backwards against the table.

‘I am not protecting him,’ Matvey cut her off, a bluntness to his voice as he put extra emphasis on the last word of his sentence. ‘Merely giving him the benefit of doubt-’

‘And for WHAT? Do you truly care so little about your fucking family?!’

Matvey rose to his feet with a similar force as earlier and grabbed his gun and screamed- and he emptied it entirely in the floor right next to Sanders’ corpse, the impact of the bullets causing blood to splatter around and leave several new stains around the holes.

It didn’t feel good.

He scoffed and tossed the empty weapon on his desk, and it bounced right off the wood and clattered on the floor instead. Dropped himself back into his chair- ran both his hands through his hair as he inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring while he sucked in his cheek and bit down hard- until the bitter taste of blood spilled into his mouth.

Matvey had not heard from Nadya in several weeks now. He had no idea what she had been up to, ever since they had been forced to relocate when Dupoint had given Vitali a location to work with.

He had no idea what he was doing any of it for anymore.

And with that, he reached for the pack of cigarettes again, flicking one out and putting it between his lips and lighting it while another crackle of thunder illuminated the dark skies above Night City.

#nuclearwriting #rbs much appreciated :) <3 #sorry for once again making vitali have a big argument with someone he loves but it's necessary for Plot #matvey and vitali are so. they make me so. ouuuuuu #they're so painfully similar and it's making me so fucking insane. help meeeee aha xxx #control as central theme of this whole fic is so insane to me as well #from like. staying in control of your emotions. to vitali being in control versus the arasaka brainwashing being in control #to matvey being in control but not having been the one to actively make the first decision to start doing all this. bweh #once again the whole chain of dominos and who caused them to fall in the first place. girl i'm losing my whole mind!!!!!#world's most insane family they are so special to me i hate them i love them i'm tearing nadya to shreds with my teeth #ch:the broker

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gachaparadise · 1 year

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I've been doing interludes lately (as you do during an interlude campaign) and the gap in quality and character analysis is insane sometimes. I did Qsh and Nezha's back to back and... Night and day over here. Qsh's was so charming and showed me a new side of my beloved moth, as well as some really cute gap moe moments. Nezha's was boring, hardly focussed on them at all, and made the same tired jokes about their gender over and over... Even the blurb on their profile you get after it's complete does it orz

#also the writing for Nezha's was like... bad. it felt stiff and didn't flow at all #not the content (though that was bad also) the actual writing #i went to read that one specifically because i was curious about what Nezha's pronouns were orz...#because im hot overly familiar with them and the one thing i do recall about them is when we first meet them-#they remark on how their body isn't what they expected and are... upset i believe? it was a while ago aha...#i just recall them pretty distinctly not being cool with the fact they have a female body now #i wanted to know if they came arpund to itor if they wanted to be refered to as a man but okay #tasteless jokes about how gender makes them uncomfortable is fine to i guess #anyway! for now until further notice i guess Nezha is stuck with the old reliable they/them because genuinely i have no idea how they feel #i know their profile uses she/her but... pretty sure Mordred's does that as well and he obviously doesn't use those #whatever i guess!! don't know why i expected an even remotely nuances take from fgo who cares lets talk about my moth!!!#i love how they have a whole backup plan in case we fail like yes king restart SIN you're a genius babygirl 💕#seriously so cute i love them #i dunno if i can resist grailing them to 100 next tiem we have an ember campaign #i put it off so far since i dont use them much gameplay wise but... moth good #these tags got away from me woops #game: fate grand order #post: chatter #sorry about the typos that I'm sure are there btw I'm on mobile and you can't re-edit tags without retyping them yet...

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mellowwillowy · 5 months

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𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Feat: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Lilia Bonus: Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Rook, Epel, Malleus

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s face was almost as red as his hair, not out of anger but rather…

[Oh my gooodddd, stomp those tiny feet again, Riddle! Give me that pout~]

Really… should he do it again? Out of nowhere? Well, let’s take a walk to where you clicked then…

[Yaahhh!! So cuteeee!!!]

Well at least you didn’t think him badly for being angry out of nowhere… whoops, he wasn’t supposed to idle like that.

Ahh, why are you moving on to another character? Cater? That good for nothing? The naughty ADeuce duo? He's almost turning from red to green in envy!

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was supposed to be ticked to the brim but definitely not with you. His ears are red from your nonstop rambling while you keep on poking his avatar right on his ear.

[I wonder how it feels like to play with his ears, ah, maybe I should help you clean it too?]

Don’t. Twitch. Ears. Else the player might notice this and question this one new idle.

[Thinking back, I kinda wanna try stepping on his tail like Yuu too~]

Don’t. Swish. Tail. What? Is he a masochist or what? Well, if it’s for you then he wouldn’t mind it.

Wait wait, why are you checking out Ruggie and Jack now? Hey, what do you mean Ruggie has cuter ears and Jack has a fluffier tail? Why do they look so proud? Are they asking to be minced?

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul might break out of the avatar restraint now. You’ve been talking about how you want to squeeze the kid him, round and plump, you quoted.

Why did you find his past appearance adorable?

[Honestly, I kinda want to lift him and his hiding spot and boil him as a takoyaki filling]

Now that made Floyd and Jade snickered. Azul was internally panicking but his avatar did not show him breaking a single sweat.

[Or maybe gather all his ink whenever he cries]

For your pen?

[But I do think squeezing his plump octomer form is the best~ Oh well, he had lost all those baby fats]

And back to how you ramble about his round self again. This was supposed to be disheartening but why was he blushing?

Wait wait, don't look away from him, no! Why are you going to Floyd? And Jade too? He knew Floyd won your heart but allow him to worm into your heart at the very least. Please let one of his three hearts rest in you!

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was nodding non-stop at your ramblings, or should he say, wishes. He was really happy that you were taking him as your magic lamp!

[And then, I want you to lace my body with lots of glitters, made of gold!]

No hard task, he just had to grind all that gold into some sort of fairy dust for you!

[Oh! And I want to try swimming in a pool of golden coins like Uncle Scrooge! I wonder if it'll hurt and uncomfortable as I think...]

He was in the same boat with you. You'd have to be careful when diving into the pool! But you can try sleeping on it though you should be careful, just in case the coins swallow you whole!

[And a carpet ride every night~]

Roger that! Tell him more of your wish, will you?

Eh? Why do you stop wishing? No! He will guarantee you that he will make it all come true! Please do not doubt him! Ah... it's because you two are in a different dimension? Screw this barrier that separates you two then.

Vil Schoenheit

Yes, he knew he was unworthy of your praises but he couldn't help but enjoy bathing in it!

[Look at your hair... and that make-up! Wow... truly is the fairest one of all!]

Oh please, no matter how much you compliment him, he could never compete with you beauty-wise! You would always be the true fairest one of all!

[Aha! Look at those heels too, contribute a lot to your height, and make you look so pretty!]

Even a prominent actor like him can't cover his natural reaction which was the growing blush on his face!

Eh? Rook? What does he have to do with him? Too in love with his words more than the beauty in front of you right now? No no no, you must look at him only and no one else!

Idia Shroud

If anything, he was glad his hair did not turn pink! From the way you kept on poking his avatar and patting his head, it made his heart tickled. He was no longer stuttering because the system wanted him to, but because he himself was nervous!

[Oh, show me that one illustration... Kyaaa! Why must you be so cute biting on your sleeve??? It's so inviting!!!]

Ah? That one? He couldn't help but feel embarrassed as you zoomed into his face and examined his hair. Truly, this was too much for his heart!

[Oh oh, and your masquerade costume is so pretty! It makes you look so pretty ffs!]

Ah, it was pretty uncomfortable to wear but he's glad he didn't take it off, not like he can do that anyway. The system won't allow that after all.

Everything feels nice so why are you changing character now? Wait wait! Have you checked his other card? No no no, why is that little shortie fae here? Don't close on him, please! He might want to try hacking your phone soon!

Lilia Vanrouge

Oya? You'd like to dress him up? Kukuku, looks like green and pink would work well on him~

[And... I think we can try curling his long hair, can we change the hue from red to pink like a color wheel?]

...Curling his hair didn't sound bad. Maybe he should try it sometimes and see if it suited him.

[Oh! And I'm gonna hang him upside down like the bat he is! My cute little bat, let's fist-fight!]

You really are an enigma huh? One moment is a sweet and docile lamb then the next moment you are a bull. Hm? Malleus? Why talk about him so sudden? Didn't you say he is your number-one favorite from Diasomnia? So why are you looking at someone else now?

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:

Floyd Leech

God of Shrimpy~ Keep on poking him, he loves it! Ah, you love his teeth? And his droopy eyes? And his laugh? Hehe, you really love everything about him huh?

So why do you even bother looking at the others? He's going to hug you tight for this silly!

Jade Leech

Ah, he is quite the gentleman, no? Hm? You'd like to keep him as your butler? Why that is quite the generous idea that you allow him to manage your daily life~

With a small dose of love potion in your daily tea every day, he's bound to have you in his arms soon, well, if he ever finds a way to pull you into this twisted wonderland.

Jamil Viper

It truly is an honor to be considered as someone reliable (from babysitting Kalim) and acknowledged as an attendant who could shield you from any danger, truly. He is ready to put his life in line for you so why?

Why are you saying that there's someone else who might fit the position as your attendant more than him? And that person being that slimy eel no less!

Rook Hunt

Ah! This is amazing! To be able to charm you with his words and let him worm into your heart is truly a blessing! Would you like him to write you a poem detailing your beauty?

No no, mon chèri, you shouldn't grace those who are unbefitting of it, don't you think it's a waste to spare the other your grace? Allow this hunter to save you from that trouble.

Epel Felmier

H-huh? You want to dress him up? Naturally, he hates being treated as a doll, a girl no less! But... the idea of you helping him dress and helping him with makeup... he can do this. It is your way of gracing him after all...

Huh? You want to dress Lilia up too? Why? Because he's cuter? Oh no, there's no way there's someone who is prettier than him, look at him, look at how pretty he is in this dress!

Malleus Draconia

If anything, he will always hear you compare him and Riddle to the 'Queen of Heart' and 'Maleficient' from your world. You will praise him for being able to stand on the same level as the actress' beauty which makes him feel giddy.

But boy is he sulking when you start rambling about Riddle and the big-headed Queen. You will dote on him and Riddle back and forth.

Can't you just dote on him?

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ozzgin · 26 days

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I really hope you continue the eldrich God story. I may or may not have become obsessed with the idea, and i think it's actually really funny and I also just love the idea of a God being in love with a human.

Also, I love your writing and art! I hope you're doing well!

Yandere! Eldritch God x Detective! Reader

Based on this prompt and this meme. You're sent to a remote island to investigate a string of murders, and end up with a horde of cultists and their Lovecraftian God who is very much obsessed with you. Don't worry, he just wants to help you with your case!

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, tentacle tomfoolery again

[More Monsters]

The island checks all the boxes for a stereotypical shady place: the grimy boat captain who talks in riddles and vague warnings, the constant fog, the tavern filled with rumors and fears, the bizarre statue of a creature with tentacles. You were expecting most of it, save for their patron God being a literal monster.

Soon after your arrival, you discover that you’re being followed by men in dark robes. Could it be related to your case? A little alcohol-aided interrogation, and the locals confess to you about the existence of a cult. The dots begin to connect.

Unfortunately for you, whatever theory is cooking up in your mind couldn’t be further from the truth. The patron Beast of the land has been watching you from the moment of your arrival. He’s rather intrigued by your nonchalant city attitude, your stubbornness, your lack of any sense of danger. Thus he demands that you’re brought to his lair.

A game of cat and mouse. You are now convinced this said cult is responsible for the murders, so you delve deeper into their secrets. At the same time, the men put all their efforts into chasing you down. The Lord's wishes are their command; for how long can you outsmart sheer numbers?

At last, they succeed. You’re dragged over, cocooned in thick rope. “My Lord, we’ve brought you the sacrifice”, one cultist proclaims victoriously. Sacrifice? The ancient creature gazes at the men with utmost confusion. He frees you from your restraints with a mere point of his tentacle appendage, and proceeds to lecture his devout following for treating his special guest with such shameful brutality. Everyone blinks in disbelief, you included.

What the hell is this, some beastly romcom? Once everything is cleared up, you dust your knees, stand up unceremoniously, and tell the cosmic deity you’ve no time for idle gossip. “There’s a criminal running free and it’s my task to stop it”, you bark. Aha, that’s the very same attitude that got his nebulous heart pumping with curious desire. He cannot explain the maddening interest he’s taken into you. The monster releases a monotonous hum, causing you to jolt in surprise. The cult leader gasps. “He…he wants to help you solve the case”, the man concludes, defeat in his voice.

“Does it have to be all of you?” You whine, clicking your tongue at the sight. It’s the morning after the godly encounter, and you’re greeted outside your room by the cult leaders and their monster. “I can’t be discreet with a dozen monks after me. Not to mention…” your eyebrows furrow. “What on Earth is he wearing? Is that a detective hat and a mustache? Are you mocking my job?” You demand, glaring at the eldritch beast and his ridiculous disguise.

“Excuse me, I’ll have to ask you to quiet down”, an employee suddenly interrupts. “You and the gentlemen over there.” You stare at him incredulously. Can he really not see he’s facing an enormous, tentacle monstrosity? You swear you can discern a grin forming across the creature’s amorphous, unholy features. Alright, you’ve been convinced. What now?

As a child, Sherlock Holmes was one of your favorite books. You'd flip through the pages and daydream about your own future as a detective, though your little fantasies never included Watson as a cursed entity of a thousand tentacles. The eldritch creature seems to be more interested in you than the case itself. Eyes always fixated on your movements, tendrils creeping around you, never leaving your proximity.

Why would he need to look elsewhere? He can already tell how things will unfold. He is, after all, the God of this land. He knew your wanted culprit had been hiding in a sealed room right under your nose, as you dusted for footprints and scribbled hurried notes. He knew the underground tunnel had deadly traps, which would have normally put your investigation to a swift end. "Kind of suspicious to leave his trail unguarded like this", you mumble in deep thought. The cosmic God smiles.

He wouldn't dare ruin your fun. Consequently, he only interferes when your safety is involved. As annoyed as he is by the criminal's persistent attempts to kill you, he doesn't want to steal your grand capture. Besides, he is very much content with the current circumstances.

As the two of you follow along the dark passageway, you clear your throat, lips pursed awkwardly. "Uh...Thank you for dealing with the obstacles", you finally say. The monster pretends to ponder your words. "Hey now, don't play dumb with me. The conveniently deactivated bombs? The mutilated guards clumsily stuffed behind the door? I am a detective, after all."

You feel a thick tendril wrapping around your arm, and you turn to glance at the creature. His eyes of spiraling depths regard you intensely. A voice suddenly echoes in your head; is he trying to communicate with you? Deep, resounding, and imposing. "I am looking forward to our next case."

"Next case? Sorry pal, I work alone-" your throat clenches involuntarily. Somehow, your innards are flooded with a particular kind of certainty, dictating an ironclad truth: you do not have the option to refuse. You sigh, exasperated. "Fine! Have it your way. At least skip the fake mustache", you beg, then pause. You slap a second tentacle that has made its way under your shirt. "And avoid groping me when I'm thinking. You interrupt the little gray cells at work." You tap your temple to prove your point, and the eldritch God bows lightly. Of course.

He'll refrain himself until you're off work, Detective.

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 month

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you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry

only the sun has come this close, only the sun

gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^

fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

you are clingy.

always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.

yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—

and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.

just how he likes it.

very much how he adores you.

affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.

he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.

he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—

"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.

your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.

gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.

he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.

"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"

another beat passes.

and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.

"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"

the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—

not that he really minds that, though.

for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.

it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.

his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.

thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"

"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!

he pinches your cheek lightly.

"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.

the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—

"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.

"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."

it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.

he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—

the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.

he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—

but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.

just like you and him.

contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.

he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.

stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.

"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"

"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.

"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"

gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.

but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.

he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.

the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"

"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"

your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.

you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.

"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"

"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—

but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"

"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.

and his insides begin to twist—

one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.

you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"

"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"

you're not okay.

you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—

you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.

you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.

feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.

brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.

"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"

"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??

sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.

and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??

"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.

but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.

"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"

and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—

not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.

and will always stay yours—

"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"

gojo pauses.

and wonders.

is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?

he hopes there is.

your husband really, seriously hopes there is—

'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.

this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰

and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

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iridescentblued · 2 months

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꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 !

꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: geto x afab!reader

꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 && 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw / 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni! geto is a college algebra math tutor && reader is failing, written in lapslock, geto is a tinie, TINIE bit of a perv (but we love him), not beta’d in any shape or form so please excuse mistakes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), piv, oral (f!receiving), use of pet names (kitten, angel, sweetheart), praise, reader calls geto ‘senpai’ until she doesn’t, size kink. wc; 8.5k

꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔. . . this is my first fic on this blog and also my first jjk fic in my entire life so please go easy on me aha i tried to keep it relatively tame, but based on my plans for the future, this will not be a trend sjfigjsfgj. reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

there wasn’t anything special about your case; at least, that’s what suguru had thought when he picked up your request before he met you. before he met you, you were just another student trying to demystify the painfully enigmatic art of getting through college algebra. before he met you, he had already tagged this case as another charity stint — a good way to get brownie points with the dean’s office and the mathematics and natural sciences department. in fact, thinking of all his tutoring cases as community service made them somewhat palatable, if not a little forgettable. he was quite sure, at the time, that you’d be in and out — both of the tutoring center and his memory. such was the case with most of his other tutees, anyway.

he hadn’t expected you to be… well, you — a pretty little thing, with your sweet smile and your wide doe eyes. on the first day, you’d stood out; you’d arrived at the tutoring center’s lobby in a short dress, knit cardigan, and coquettish makeup, as if every fiber of your being were bidding the spring a solid farewell. multiple heads had turned, including his, as you came up to the front desk and asked for one geto suguru for college algebra. you were eager for summer, suguru had learned as you broke the ice little by little, in part because you looked forward to visiting okinawa with your family, but also because you were eager to get your first semester out of the way. that much, you had in common with most of his other students — almost all of the ones seeking help in college algebra only took it as a depressing core requirement of whatever degree they were doing. you, specifically, were focusing on fashion design; that very vividly explained your attention to your looks. this mathematics class was a thorn in your side, a mandatory thing that was simply supposed to get you through later business-oriented classes in your degree program. for suguru, however, college algebra had become the perfect excuse from the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

the more time he spends with you, the more he thinks you’re exactly his taste. it starts off with little things he finds attractive, things he picks up while he’s watching you fill out the practice sheets he’s prepared for you on quadratic equations or while trying to get you to understand logarithms — your neat, tiny handwriting, almost like print; your habit of boxing your final answers in firm strokes, even if they’re hopelessly wrong; your colored tabs, cascading down the page side of your textbook. but as the weeks wear on, he sees all the little things in between — the way your long eyelashes quiver when you stop and close your eyes as you think for the answer, the upturn of your plush lips when you have the same answer on the practice sheet as he does, the deepening of your artificial blush with a natural hue when you realize you don’t know the answers to his gentle questions. he notices that you refuse to wear anything longer than a knee-length skirt despite the still-strong winds, notices that your tiny palms are always smooth and pink, that your hair always smells of coconut milk. these are things he can’t help but jot down in his memory — that was exactly what you were, after all: memorable.

and the more he remembers about you, the more suguru wants you. yet he’s never made a move, never given so much as a hint of his interest, not only because there are prying eyes all around the building but also because you have never so much as shown a smidge of desire back. in fact, he has to wonder if you’ve ever thought of him in a different capacity — not as a tutor, but as a man. if you have, you’ve never made that obvious; you always talk to him respectfully, the little wall you’ve erected between the both of you remaining steady, and you never let your eyes linger on his face for longer than it takes for him to explain what you don’t know. suguru has had his fair share of female students, and in all of them, he’s seen the same kind of hunger — to few, he’s catered to their whims, if only to pass the time, if only for his own benefit. but you, with your ribbons in your hair and your sweet, sweet mouth, have never once shown that same kind of desire.

he doesn’t know if it frustrates him, but he does know one thing — it makes him want you all the more.

he wants you even now, as you sit across from him, dolled up as usual. even now, as your eyes take on a glassy sheen of defeat, your cheeks puffing out in the way that tells him you’re admonishing yourself once again, he craves you — maddeningly so. and he realizes that it doesn’t really matter if you're not the one to fall first, as long as he can still have you.

“time out,” you beg, your fingers meeting the palm of your hand to signal a break. “my brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“you just had a break ten minutes ago,” suguru reminds you, though there’s a lighthearted amusement to his voice that makes you smile sheepishly. “at this rate, you’ll be on more breaks than you’ll be taking the time to actually learn.”

“i’m trying,” you groan, your fingers curling against your forehead as you bump your head against your fist. “i just don’t think i’m cut out for this polynomial whatever — trial and error bullshit.”

“you’ll hate me for saying this — but you’ll never know unless you keep trying.”

“funny.” your sigh rustles the papers in front of you gently. “how do you do it, senpai?”

“hm?”

“you’re not only good at this stuff, but you’re so good you’re able to take the time to teach people like me.”

“strengths and weaknesses — it’s the natural way of the world.” suguru smiles gently at you, and he notes how his chest feels tighter when you return the sentiment shyly. “i could never do what you’re doing in your own degree, try as i might. anyway, you’ll get there. i won’t let you become my first ever failed project, you know.”

“i wouldn’t want to let you down either, senpai, but—” the back end of your pencil taps lightly against the surface of the table. “it just feels hopeless. i can’t focus on anything. it’s so… so abstract, and everyone here is talking all at once, and i don’t even know what i’m ever going to get out of this class in the long run.”

even when you’re dejected, you look pretty; your bottom lip juts out naturally when you whine like this, and for a moment, suguru can’t say anything in response. he’s too busy wondering what your mouth would feel like on his — on him. when he snaps himself out of his brief reverie, he notices you’re looking around at everyone else — and he has to agree that with the noise level in this whole building, it isn’t the most conducive site for learning, especially when the learner is already so averse to the subject matter.

“i can’t help much in the way of it being too abstract,” he says kindly. “but it’s not a requirement for us to have our sessions here. i know it can be quite distracting, all these voices flying around, so why don’t you look for a place that better suits you, and we can start meeting there instead? the more comfortable you are in your environment, the better you’ll be able to absorb the material, i’m sure.”

“you think?” your pencil comes to a slow halt as you refocus on him, a thoughtful light glimmering behind your gaze. “yeah — yeah, i actually wouldn’t mind that. then, i’ll look for a different place for us to meet, and we can start there next week. how does that sound?”

“whatever suits you suits me,” he responds easily.

he lowers his gaze immediately after you flash him a blinding grin; there are far too many people here, as you both very well know, and if he keeps looking at you and your pretty little expressions any longer, he might just give them something to actually look at.

it had been your idea, not his, so why did suguru feel like he’d dragged you into a compromising situation?

you’d texted him over the weekend that your search for a new venue had been absolutely fruitless; every cafe and study space you’d been to was either too expensive or equally as packed with people, if not both. suguru had seen the preview to your message, but he hadn’t been prepared for what it read out in full when he’d actually opened it.

senpai, would it be too difficult to just meet at my apartment? i attached a map, so let me know!

it wouldn’t be too difficult; logistics-wise, it was walking distance from campus and almost directly across the train station he takes home. it also definitely promised an environment you were comfortable in, and you wouldn’t have to worry about excess noise from any other tutoring groups. no, the difficulty really only lied in himself — you two, all alone, would certainly mean his mind would be up to no good for the two hours every monday, wednesday, and thursday you would be together.

but for your sake, he’d try to rein it in, with the operative word being try.

your place is as neat and as pretty as you are; he doesn’t know if you’ve cleaned up for him, or if you’re naturally this organized, but he likes it all the same. it smells of toasted marshmallow and expensive perfume, and all your furniture matches. suguru supposes he likes that in a woman — someone able to care for herself, someone who cares about herself. and you’re always just as neat and pretty to match, with your hair always styled sweetly, your makeup always enhancing your features.

the problem is that now that he’s in here, where you live, and where you spend most of your time, suguru’s mind seems to wander too much towards thoughts about what you do in private. he rejects studying on the couch, not just because it’s bad for posture and concentration but also because he can’t help but imagine you pressed into the cushions by his hand. he suggests the small dining table you have, but on the second meeting at your place, he starts thinking about what you might look like seated on the table, your ass hanging over the edge and his face buried between your thighs. whenever you look up to ask him something, he drinks in your lovely, made-up face again, and starts wondering what your makeup would look like ruined before he interrupts that trainwreck of a thought with the answer to your question.

by the end of the week, suguru’s defenses are all but shot, and he realizes that this situation might be optimal for you, but it definitely isn’t doing him and his now constantly straining cock any great favors.

he supposes that your performance has somewhat improved; you’re less likely to trail off when you’re thinking and can actually do practice sets for a lot longer without all the noise and hubbub around you. your only real hindrance is yourself and your frustration; you have a habit of giving into your carelessness that sends you spiraling into despair, and it doesn’t help that when you press your cheek against the surface of your dining table and whine, the comfort suguru offers is noticeably delayed because he’s too busy thinking about his cock between your lips.

“my dad’s going to kill me if i fail this midterm,” you grumble, stabbing the practice sheet with your pencil; it skids sideways, and suguru robotically fixes it back into proper alignment for you, careful not to brush against the arm that’s folded inwards, supporting your chin. “he only agreed to let me take this degree because of the business aspect of it. as if i’ll need to know about—” you check the header of the worksheet. “domain and range when i’m doing actual design work.”

“you’ll never know what might be useful later on in life. i definitely thought this was nonsense back in high school — and then i got this job.”

“and now you’re rolling in dough?” you smile slightly. suguru chuckles.

“i’m a long way away from having myself a scrooge mcduck golden pool, but i make enough to get by very comfortably, thanks to this.”

“thanks to me, you mean.”

“you’re not my only student,” he snorts, pinching your elbow; you cry out exaggeratedly. “focus up. the hour’s almost over, and you should have finished with this much earlier.”

“can you leave it as homework?”

“not a chance.”

you blow out a sharp puff of air. “my mom used to do this thing where she’d give me rewards if i did well with my homework. i wish i’d still get something out of this.”

“what kind of rewards did she give you?”

“chocolates — candy, or sometimes we’d go out for milk tea together, if i did a particularly good job.”

“this is math tutoring, not a trip to the dentist,” suguru says, amused.

“a trip to the dentist would be more enjoyable,” you mutter under your breath, picking up your pencil and doodling an angry face next to the number you’re only halfway through solving. “this totally blows.”

“try to finish this before the hour’s up, and i’ll see if i can get you something nice. out of my own paycheck,” he stresses, prodding at your cheek to shift your attention back to the paper. he doesn’t miss the fact that your eyes light up, childish as the promise is.

he doesn’t know if that’s really what motivates you, but you do manage to finish the worksheet with a few minutes to spare before the clock hits seven, and that earns you some light, solo applause. it isn’t much by way of true praise, but you flush with pride all the same. suguru packs his things in silence as you get yourself a glass of water, and you see him to the door. only there does he notice your eager eyes, your expectant smile.

“what’s going through that pretty little head of yours?”

“are you really going to give me a reward? i did great today, you know,” you respond bluntly.

“you were serious about that?” he laughs.

“absolutely. i earned it.” you raise a slim finger, wagging it in his face. he trails it with his gaze, no shortage of amusement in his eyes. “next monday, i want something sweet.”

suguru takes in the sight of you, keeping your door open with your hip; he wonders if you know what you’re doing to him, what you’re asking of him — if you even know there’s nothing that could possibly be sweeter than you at this very moment. he drinks in the sight of your feigned haughty expression on your pretty features, the unnervingly low dip of your tank top, the tempting hemline of your shorts, and feels like you must be aware of what he’s going to do next.

“if it’s something sweet you want, you don’t have to wait until next week.”

he does it before he can think it through — surely, there’s nothing too harmful about a quick kiss? he angles your chin upward with his thumb and forefinger before you can even react to his words, and he tastes you like that for the first time. you’re just as soft and as sweet as he’d imagined, if not more so.

when suguru pulls away, you step back; there’s shock written all over your face, your mouth still hanging open slightly. your voice is gentle, shaky when you start speaking.

“senpai, wha—”

“see you next week. rest up over the weekend, or there’ll be consequences.”

he finds it easy to joke with you now, even after what he’s done — finds it easy to wave goodbye with nonchalance as he walks to the elevator, now that he’s gotten one thing out of his system. the look on your face, the growing blush across the bridge of your nose and your temples is indication enough for suguru to feel confident — if you hadn’t thought about him that way before, you were sure to spend the next few days doing exactly that.

it’s exactly a week before your midterm exam, and suguru notices you’re less than focused.

he’d let you stew over the weekend, not expecting much by way of communication; indeed, his phone hadn’t once been jostled by your texts. he’d taken that silence to assume that you’d been wrapped up in thoughts of the kiss he’d left you with, and you did not disappoint on that front; the next monday saw you fidgety, flushed, and constantly faltering in your words. you asked less questions, which normally indicated a problem, but today, he’d let it slide; you definitely had a little too much on that pretty little brain of yours.

he notices you’re still dolled up — your eyelids are shimmery, and your lips are glossy; you’re wearing a tennis skirt that hits all the right buttons for him, too. it’s true that you’re always pretty well-dressed and put together, but today somehow feels different. if before, suguru had always seen you dressed up simply to look good, today it feels a little more like you’re dressed up to look good for him. he knows it’s a little bit egotistical to assume as much, but he also doesn’t miss the side glances you throw at him when you think he’s not looking at you answering your textbook or the way your cheeks glow when you make the slightest bit of eye contact.

still, you try to focus as much as you can; it’s adorable, in fact, to see all your valiant efforts to appear unperturbed. he figures he’ll play along for as long as you will — what matters to him, after all, is that you’re in the game to begin with. you complain less today, focus on your worksheets, and suguru even manages to witness the sight of your forehead creasing up as you concentrate on a particularly difficult item. you’re adorable, in the kind of way that makes him want to pin you down and have his way with you.

you finish your work without a fuss today; you only actually asked for his help twice, which was a feat in and of itself. and again, when the session is over, you walk him to the door.

this time, when you linger, he waits; you’re clearly not good at hiding your true intentions, as it’s become clear you have something you want to say. as you try to piece your thoughts together, suguru reaches into his backpack’s front pocket and extracts today’s gift — an actual chocolate bar, albeit a rather run of the mill one.

“what’s this?” you ask, your thought process clearly derailed as confusion takes over your features.

“your reward. for a good job last week and today — you said you wanted one, didn’t you?”

“but i thought—” you stop yourself, your mouth opening and closing, suddenly wordless. suguru grins.

“not good enough? i picked that up from a convenience store on my way here, so it definitely isn’t anything special, but i thought it would at least be a good motivator.”

you’re turning red, and there’s turmoil in your eyes — he enjoys this, he realizes, the way he flusters you. if he had known this would be the result, he would have made a move much sooner. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, back and forth, obviously weighing out your options too. finally, you say, “alright.”

“you seem disappointed.”

“i’m not.”

“i’ll get you a better brand next time, if you really don’t like it.”

“it’s not that.”

“so what is it?” he doesn’t expect you to say it, and you don’t defy expectations; your bottom lip just quivers, and suguru chuckles low under his breath, stepping forward just past your doorway, just a little bit closer to you. “don’t tell me you wanted something completely different?”

you don’t say so, but he knows; he can tell by the way you tilt your head back, the way your lips part slightly, the gloss still trailing along the seam. he can tell by the way your torso arches just a little bit closer, almost like an accident. he can tell by the way your eyes bore into his, almost pleading.

“what you did last week…” you start, but your voice trails off into nothing soon after. he chuckles again.

“ah, that. i might have gotten ahead of myself.”

“was that all?” you press.

“and what would you do, if it wasn’t?”

“well — do you always like to play games?”

“i have a penchant for playing with my food before i eat it, if that answers your question.” he smiles down at your still-reddening face. “i was giving you a reward, as you wanted. i came up short on options then and there. you’ll let it slide this once, won’t you?”

“you did that just because i did well last week?”

“of course.”

“well, i did well today, too.”

“you did, and that’s why you have this.” he gestures to the chocolate bar in your hand.

“i don’t want this.” your voice is stubborn now, heated and frustrated, and you stuff the chocolate back into his hand. you must not like having to ask for something so blatantly — it’s too bad suguru wants to hear it in those exact words.

“tell me what you really want, then.”

you’re still unable to find the words, but your hands do the talking for you; they press into his shoulders and give you leverage to tiptoe until you’re just close enough to his lips. but you don’t close that gap, your mouth quivering only inches away from his, and oh, suguru wants to toy with you, but you’re just too irresistible this close to him. his warm palms press against your jaw, keeping your face steady as he closes the gap, and this time, he doesn’t just get a brief taste of you — suguru claims your lips with the thirst of a man who’s stumbled upon an oasis in the desert.

you must have thought about this moment long and hard over the weekend, because the nonchalant side of you that’s turned a blind eye to him is completely gone; he drinks in your soft noises and short, breathless gasps — all signs of your eagerness — until he’s drunk on the taste of you. the deeper the kiss gets, the less you can keep up, but you try, and suguru always likes rewarding your efforts, his wide tongue taut and flush against your tiny one in the sweet, warm cavern of your mouth. he licks every inch of it, leaves the mild nicotine taste of himself there, before he pulls away slowly. your eyes are still closed when he creates distance, fluttering open in a happy haze a few seconds later.

“good enough for you?” he murmurs, tucking a soft lock of hair behind your ear. you hum in assent through your dazed smile, and suguru knows he won’t be the only one looking forward to this coming wednesday.

you’d done really well today.

suguru’s proud of you — prouder than he’s been of most of his students in his career here at the university, actually. you’d finally answered a worksheet almost perfectly, save for a couple of numbers where you’d forgotten to round up, and those things are absolutely negligible at this point (by his books, anyway). you’ve been on your best behavior yet, avoiding all forms of complaint, and he knows fully well why, but he won’t criticize you for your hard work all the same, no matter the motivation behind it.

in fact, you’ve done so good that he doesn’t wait until he’s about to leave to give you your sweet reward — which is why, twenty minutes before he’s meant to go, he’s got you on your couch, your legs spread, each one hooked over his shoulders.

truth be told, you’d been good way before the lesson had started; you’d answered the door in a crop top and the tiniest pair of shorts you’ve dared to wear yet — all clothes that you couldn’t yet wear outside yet, given the weather. selfishly, suguru is thankful for this fact, and if he had to list down other things he’s thankful for, just off the top of his head, it’s that you no longer meet in the tutoring center and that your apartment’s walls seem thick and well-reinforced.

“senpai, don’t tease me.” your silly little whining voice makes its first appearance of the day, but all suguru does is smile — it’s an almost wicked expression, set firmly between your thighs. “you said i did really well today. don’t tell me you’re backing out on rewarding me?”

“not at all, sweetheart,” he hums, pressing a small kiss to your inner thigh. he likes seeing you shiver at the contact, likes the way you’re chewing on your lip in what appears to be slight agitation. “just thinking of how much of a reward you deserve.”

in all honesty, suguru would like to take every bit of you now; you’re already so ready for him, anyway. he can smell the faint perfume of your arousal, can see the way you’re anticipating the most from him, and a part of him doesn’t want to deny you of that. the larger part of him has dreamed of burying his cock into you, anyway, and why wouldn’t he do that? but something also tells him to wait — or, rather, to make you wait, to make you want him just a little more.

and so, he decides.

his mouth finds your skin again, pressing kisses up your thigh; they get wetter, hotter as his mouth moves up, until his nose and lips are buried against your clothed core. you squirm in response, but his grip on your thighs keeps you relatively steady, even as his tongue presses against thin fabric. the wet muscle pushes sharp against your tiny entrance, the tip meeting slight resistance against your shorts and panties, but he finds a way, burying half his tongue in alongside damp cloth.

you’re already wet like this, and so needy that it might be possible for suguru to get you off just like this, still clothed, but the hunger in him spikes once you call out to him.

“senpai, please…”

with a groan, his fingers yank the fabric aside, exposing your pussy to the warmth of his breathing. it’s as pink, as pretty, as tiny as the rest of you, as fuckable as he’d imagined it would be, and he wastes no time in pressing his tongue flat against your folds, dragging it up in a wide, messy stripe; the muscle only tenses when it bumps against your clit, his tongue flicking upwards to tease it.

you’re so reactive, even at the slightest things — you whimper, you squeeze your eyes shut, you squirm. you’re begging to be fucked, and suguru’s cock is strained tight against his jeans, but your taste is so addicting that he can’t help but dive back in. his tongue eases between your folds now, spreading them apart until they’re lewd and sticky with his saliva, and the nub of your clit has grown so pronounced now — so pert and lovely that he can’t help but purse his lips around it and suck with excess force.

“senpai — f—fuck,” you mewl; you almost sound tearful. “f—feels so good…”

suguru wants to tell you how fucking good you taste, how beautiful the sounds you’re making are, but his mouth is too busy; his teeth rake down your cunt lightly, earning him a jerk of your hips, and he has to place pressure down on your thighs again to make sure you’re still enough for him to slip his tongue into your cunt.

he can tell even just by that how tight you’d be around him; your walls are warm around his tongue, and there’s a pressure against the muscle that tells him how good it’d feel for his cock to take its place. as if to simulate his desires, he presses his tongue deeper in, fucks you shallowly with its wetness until your whimpers become little sobs, broken and choked back. his thumb drags across your slit then settles against your clit, and he can feel the thrum of your pulse against the pad of his finger, beckoning him. he complies, easily, thumb tracing circles around the nub that start off slow, only for him to ramp up the pace alongside his tongue.

you’re easily at fault for that; the way you whine for him, call him senpai, tell him how good it feels over and over — why wouldn’t he want more of you?

he’s not sure which of you really earns the sweet reward today; you cum on his tongue, your cunt trembling against his mouth and your fingers threaded into his hair, but he’s the one who comes out licking his lips like he’s had the best treat of his damn life.

come the middle of next week, suguru finds himself face to face with a test paper — one already clearly marked, with a number circled on the top-right corner. ninety. a stellar grade for anyone, and especially for you.

you know it, and you look absolutely triumphant; you’re practically shining as you perch on your little dining table, your perfectly manicured finger jabbing at the score in emphasis.

“flying colors, wouldn’t you say?”

“color me impressed,” suguru replies smoothly, a genuine smile of pride tugging at his lips; he turns the page over, scanning your responses. you still draw your parabolas a little on the small side, making them a bit difficult to discern, and you’ve still got the habit of not rounding your answers up, but this is tremendous work, and he’ll be the first to praise you for it. “your dad must be filled to the brim with joy now, right?”

“i haven’t told him yet. you were the first.”

“well, i’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

“proud enough to give me a reward?”

he looks down at you in feigned thoughtfulness. here you sit, back in your little tennis skirt, looking up at him with hopeful eyes under those long, curled lashes. for someone who spent the first half of this semester acting ostensibly nonchalant, you’d very easily shown your true colors soon after — not that he really minds. in fact, he’s taken a decided kind of liking to how eager and willing you’ve come to be.

“we’ve only just started our session, though,” he hums out, an idle thumb grazing his chin as he watches your expression turn from bright to cloudy, the beginnings of strategy darkening your gaze. it’s not like he wants to say no; he has no real intention to. but seeing you squirm in want makes him feel good about his decision to hold out a little longer — never mind the ache in his cock even then. “don’t we usually leave the rewards for a later time?”

“i was thinking — since it’s the start of a new lesson —”

“we wouldn’t want you falling behind from the start, would we?”

“i promise i won’t,” you pout. “i promise i’ll put in my best effort next time.”

“next time? sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re thinking to get off scot-free today…” suguru trails off, his hand falling to the nearest surface it can reach — which, logic seems to dictate, is your soft, milky thigh. he feels you tense under his palm, and he bites back a smile, keeping his expression level. “i just don’t know.”

your small hands grip at the front of his shirt, and he hears you, for the first time, doing something he’s always wanted to hear you do.

“please, senpai?”

how could he say no to you? he hadn’t really planned on it, had only wanted to see you do this, but it’s still too much and beyond his expectation — your misty gaze, your quivering lip. it’s almost laughable that you don’t think he’d notice the way you shift yourself so that his hand, still warm against your thigh, slides up your skin, the hem of your skirt bunched up in the junction between his thumb and forefinger.

suguru chuckles — isn’t this exactly where and how he’s always wanted you? “how could you ask me like that and expect me to refuse, angel? in that case, i have no real choice but to dedicate all our time today to your reward.”

your breathing hitches — in anticipation, in desire, in excitement — as his hand continues its trail upward, deliberately now, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. his head dips down, rests into the crook of your neck, and he inhales the thick, sweet scent of your perfume, your shampoo, of you and all that he’ll take from you.

“just remember, you asked for this,” he murmurs against your skin. “so i’m going to take every bit of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else.”

you’re so willing, so ready even before he can get his full bearings; your hips are rising slightly off the table, and suguru feels like it’s you that’s telling him to move faster. he tugs down your panties, letting gravity take its course until they’re a tiny puddle of fabric on the floor, and he slots himself between your legs. like this, you have no choice but to spread, and you do so without hesitation, your knees locking against his sides as he pulls you in for a tight, hungry kiss. there’s that taste of you he loves, that clean, sweet buzz that draws him in, and his hands are bruisingly tight on your waist as he reclaims your lips.

you already look dazed when he pulls away, which is always cute, but a little unfair — suguru wants you to be aware still when he takes you, and damn, if he doesn’t want to take you right fucking now. he kisses you again, harder and more demanding, as if willing your attention back to him, while his hands explore you — run up your thighs, fingers brushing against the plush curve of your ass. it’s not enough, not by a long shot, and he’s pushing the waistline of your skirt up your stomach with his hands, letting his warmth transfer onto your skin; he chuckles as your stomach sucks inward at his touch, just as you let out a gasp against his lips.

and he wants desperately to hear that noise again; in fact, he wants to know what you sound like in every capacity. his mouth works down your neck, pleased to find that suckling wet and languid on a spot just above your collarbone has you writhing and whimpering. are you sensitive or touch-starved? whatever the reason, he wants to draw all of that out of you, his hands drawing back down to hook under your thighs. suguru drags you to the edge of the table, until your bare cunt is flush against the front of his jeans, and he lets you feel him — a brief tease of what’s to come.

“i’m s—so wet already,” you whisper, as if he doesn’t know — as if you know it’s exactly what he wants to hear anyway. “senpai, please, i need you.”

“not that,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing your collarbone as he speaks. “not senpai. suguru. call me suguru, angel.”

“s—suguru,” you exhale shakily, and it’s music to his ears — as if the last thing holding him back from you had shattered.

“that’s it — what a good girl,” he purrs, his hips rocking forward against your pussy before they retract, leaving just enough space for his hand to slip between. slender fingers trail down your folds, sticky and slick. “you are all wet for me, aren’t you? ready to take me deep inside?”

even the way you nod, a tiny movement of assent, drives him wild, yet a part of him still wants to test the limit of your patience, his middle finger stretching to circle your entrance.

“wouldn’t want to shock your tiny little pussy, though, would i? will you let me stretch you out first, kitten?”

“yes,” you mewl, sounding almost tearful. “anything— anything, please.”

suguru drinks in the long, drawn-out keen you set free when his digit sinks into you; he’s already felt your walls against his tongue, but a small part of him is still surprised at just how tight you are. that same part nags that he might not fit easily into you, but whatever that voice is is easily drowned out by a more assertive promise — he’ll make it fit.

“can’t tell you how much i’ve wanted to feel your pretty little hole around my cock,” he presses on, his finger pushing deeper in; he feels you tense a delicious kind of tightness, as if it’s almost too much for you. is it? “ever since that first day you came into the tutoring center, dressed up all cute — did you do that on purpose, sweetheart?”

“yes,” you admit, breathless; the syllable is lengthened into a weak moan as suguru pumps his finger into you, slow, deep strokes that tease your tacky walls open. “wanted — wanted to make a good impression…”

“and you did, didn’t you? kept looking so sweet for me, so pretty every single time — got me thinking about all the ways i wanted to have you. got me so fucking hard every time we’d meet — is that what you wanted?”

suguru doesn’t give you much room to respond, but he can make his own answers to appease himself anyway; he reclaims your lips, already eager for another taste of you, and you comply with the same amount of desire, your soft whimpers melting against his teeth. in the space of pseudo silence, wet, messy noises, he manages to tease another digit into you, and you cry out against his lips as it pushes in, joining the first in how deep it reaches. he absorbs that too, takes in every minute sound you make, relishes the way you pulse around his fingers. even without the noises, he can tell your pleasure’s heightening, with the way you clench around him, your hips rocking pitifully as you’re eager to rut against his palm.

“look at you now.” he’s selfish, but he doesn’t care — he wants to ruin you, and if the telltale squelch of your cunt as he fucks his fingers into it isn’t indication enough, then the way your mouth hangs open as he pulls away, letting his name fall freely from your lips, definitely is. “legs spread, all desperate to feel good for me. what a needy little kitten you are. this good enough for you, angel?”

you shake your head, only to squeal as he pulls you closer, his fingers shoving deeper into you; your hips are re-angled, allowing him to brush the pads of his digits against the rough, sweet spot, and he feels triumph bloom in his chest as you throw your head back, teary eyes squeezed shut.

“no, no, no,” you babble, and he can see the bob of your throat as you swallow hard, clutching at sense to make words. “want — need your cock, want to cum on your cock so badly, suguru — want you to fuck me, stretch me open, please —”

“greedy, aren’t you?” he murmurs, leaning in to nip at the spot he’d left reddened above your collarbone. “go on then — show me how much you want it. show me what a good girl you are, and cum on my fingers.”

“but—”

“come on, angel,” he urges above the squelching noises, increasing surely in volume. his fingers meet resistance when they spread apart inside you, but all it does is create a delicious friction that has you squirming in his hold. “don’t hold back. let me see you fall apart.”

and you do, so prettily, your eyes rolling back and your voice unrestrained. suguru’s fingers ride you through your orgasm, pumping deep and steady despite how slick you’ve gotten, your juices coating his hand and wrist. he watches the flush rise to your neck, stopping at your cheeks, watches the heaving of your chest, the shine of your skin from a thin sheen of sweat, and he doesn’t want to let you come down from this high, but his cock is aching — practically bursting from his jeans — and all he can do is make the silent vow that the next time you look like this, he’ll be balls deep in you.

“that’s my girl,” he coos gently, watching the tension slip from your shoulders; his free hand is at the small of your back quickly, easing you down as your torso falls back, and you’re laying on the table. “pretty little thing, aren’t you? cumming so sweetly for me.”

“suguru,” you groan out weakly, your tiny hand clasping around his wrist. “cock — i want your cock, please—”

“can’t wait?” he’s indecent for sounding amused, but even that does nothing to stay his arousal; how eager you are simply makes him want you all the more. “okay, angel — since you asked so nicely.”

a slight twinge of disappointment runs through him as he pulls his fingers out, but it’s quickly buried by the feeling he gets once he gives you a clear sweep of a once-over; how slutty you look, still half-dressed but already half-ruined, your thighs shaking in an effort to keep them open for him, the remnants of your last climax still leaking out of your hole. the sight of you has him so distracted that unbuttoning and unzipping his pants feels like a fever dream of an act; he barely notices what he’s doing until he’s already bare in front of you, and alertness has crawled halfway back into your consciousness as you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

“it’s so—” you have the decency to blush, though there’s a pleased look on your face that tells him you’re not really embarrassed. “i didn’t think you’d be this big.”

“does that worry you?”

“i’ve never had anyone… this big.” pride blooms in his chest — good, he thinks, because if he can’t be as memorable as your first, then he’ll take being the most in something as a prize. “i don’t think — will it fit?”

“does it matter?” he chuckles, and your blush deepens. “no matter what — you’ll take all of me in, won’t you?”

you chew on your bottom lip, as if considering your options, but to suguru, there’s really only one choice — the correct one, and you make it when you nod your head.

“it’ll feel good, though, you know,” he muses. his hand wrapped around his base, he lines himself up with you, the tip grazing against your folds. “even better than just now.”

with just a little more pressure, he has his shaft flush against you; his girth sits against your slit, the tip pressed against your clit, and he starts to rock his hips — into his fist, against your cunt. your hips quiver, and a shiver runs through you as your pleasure spikes again, but he can tell it isn’t enough. your bottom lip is back between your teeth, and your eyes are flitting between his face and his cock. suguru reaches out, eases your lip out from between your teeth, strokes it gently, almost tenderly.

“say it,” he commands in a soft, silky voice.

“fuck me, suguru,” you breathe out, barely missing a beat. “fuck me, fuck my pussy, please.”

and if you ask that desperately, he’ll waste no time; he draws his hips back, dragging his cock down until he’s aligned with your entrance. his eyes are trained on your face, even when he pushes in, so that he can take in your expression — the widening of your eyes as his tip breaches the first wave of resistance, the way your mouth falls agape as his fingers dig hard into your flesh. he’s never seen a prettier sight in his life.

“stretched you out already, but you’re still so fucking tight,” his voice is a soft, melodious croon, a stark contrast to the way he’s forcing past your tightness. “tight and wet, like a good girl.”

“so big,” you whimper, your fingers stretched far enough to tickle the front of his shirt. “can’t — can’t take it.”

“of course you can, angel.” suguru doesn’t give you the time to brace yourself fully before he’s rocking his hips in a little more sharply, his cock now halfway into you. your fingers curl into a little fist, immediately flying back to block the noise from your mouth. “ah ah. don’t get shy on me now; you’ve been so noisy for me all this time.”

but he doesn’t really mind the way you clap your palm over your mouth to muffle your high-pitched squeal as he thrusts in fully, the adjustment period after the last movement close to nothing; he’s too busy focusing on how good you feel around him, how warm and wet your insides are. this is heaven, easily, and suguru wants to stay here for as long as he can.

“god, you’re fucking tight,” he repeats, an appreciatory gaze running over where you’re joined. his thumb stretches over your folds, rubbing them — something of an apology, perhaps, although all it does is stimulate you more, and you shiver at the extra contact. “how deep is it, baby?”

“can feel you here,” you mumble out, your small hand pressing just above your pelvis. he feels the tightness multiply as you place pressure, even just for a moment. “your cock’s so much deeper than anyone else.”

your hand falls away, limp, as he draws his hips back; you inhale, long and deep, before letting it out as a broken moan when he pushes back in. it drives him crazy, to start off this slow, when all he wants is to find a pace that has you sobbing, but the resistance of your pussy against his length isn’t easy to ignore. suguru works you open, his jaw set and his grip tight against your frame, and it isn’t long before he’s picking up speed, the slap of his flesh against yours fueling him exponentially, mingling with your cries, steadily increasing in volume.

“that’s it. let everyone hear you,” he eggs on, his thumb now circling tight around your clit; your legs are quivering, threatening to close, but he keeps you steady, one arm wrapped around your thigh. his thrusts grow rougher, more deliberate, and when he looks up from where you’re joined back to your face, he sees your expression as a mixture of incredulity and ecstasy. a thin line of drool hangs from the corner of your mouth, your pretty pink lip gloss smeared, and fuck if he doesn’t want to make sure you look like this every single time he comes over. “let them know who’s fucking you good, angel.”

“su— suguru!” your voice hitches, lilts up as he presses in at a different, deeper angle, and he almost cums right then and there from the way your walls pulse around him. “your cock feels so good, fucking me just right— more, god, more—”

he complies without hesitation, gathering both your thighs and pushing them closer to your chest; you look even lewder like this, folded in half with your sopping cunt presented to him like it’s all his to take, and it is, isn’t it? there’s an increase in the intensity, the vigor in which he pumps his cock into you, and he knows he’s brushing repeatedly against your spot by the way you’re blubbering his name out in a way that suggests you sincerely think no one else in this building can hear you.

“that’s my girl,” he hums approvingly, though there’s a thickness in his voice that has him sounding a little more strained. “such a good girl, with your cunt all nice and sloppy for me. do you like it when i go this deep? does it feel good when i fuck you where no one else can?”

“yes!” you sob out, your hands crumpling the end of your skirt up into tight fists. “suguru, i— cum, i need to cum again, please—”

“i’ve got you, kitten,” his tone is reassuring, a stark contrast to the rigor of his hips. “don’t have to hang on for me, you know; always love seeing you fall apart.”

“m’close, so close, closecloseclose—”

“let go, then,” he urges, his blunt nails digging into your flesh. “let me feel that sweet cunt cum on my cock.”

you comply without hesitation, though if you’d done it willingly, he can’t really tell; he has to pin your hips down to stop you from bucking up and causing him to slip out, and you writhe against him as you sob in ecstasy, your walls fluttering before they clench. stray tears leak from your eyes, squeezed shut, and suguru wants nothing more than to eat you up like this — broken, fucked out.

you’re not even fully down from your high when he feels it — that sudden wrenching in his gut that tells him he’s about to follow suit. with a low groan, he peels your thighs apart again, lets you watch him as he bullies straight into your leaking hole. your voice is a staccato, punctuating every deep, sharp thrust into you, and it’s exactly to that melody that he wants to get off.

“tell me where you want it, angel.” he doesn’t trust his voice, sharp and short as it is now. “should i mark your pretty face? your stomach?”

“want it against my pussy,” you whisper out, and suguru almost loses his mind as he watches you spread your folds apart with your forefinger and middle finger, inviting him. “make a mess of it, senpai.”

he’s barely able to pull out before he’s spilling against you; he ruts against your slit, coating your folds and the insides of your thighs in thick, creamy white. you hold your legs apart for as long as you can until they start to tremble, and he catches them and gently eases them down.

when you sit up to kiss him, you’re still demanding; he feels your hips rock closer, your sticky cunt pressing against the underside of his cock.

“not enough,” you murmur against his lips, and suguru chuckles as you bind your hands around his neck.

“don’t worry, kitten,” he hums back. “we’ve got all afternoon.”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x you #suguru geto x you #suguru x reader #suguru x you #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x you #getou suguru x you

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tatoasting · 1 year

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Good news though, that means none of this was my fault!!

#hollow #I have spent like two weeks straight thinking I was so annoying and that I was the problem and whatever #its good to know now that no!! he was definitively the problem!!#I feel like I got fucked over more than most people in this situation too because like #he had told me that I was basically the first person he had really talked to on bumble and I believe that. it lines up well #he would talk to me all day every day for hours and hours and hours and eventually he didnt seem to have as much time to talk to me anymore #I got to know him as someone so attentive. we talked every day. long conversations where we were clearly only talking to eachother.#messages always read the moment they were sent.#and then.... not.#short conversations every couple of days. sometimes texting me and then disappearing immidiately after #always complaining...#how his life sucks. things are just so bad right now. he used to tell me why but it got really vague...#he would say he didnt want to talk about it... but he loved to complain and loved to share his misery... weird #so weird...#not to mention I have to live with him as one of my firsts for the rest of my life now. I know that doesnt have to mean anything but...#at least until theres a second this is going to feel really fucking bad and awkward!!#like !!! aha I dont want to look at my body anymore !! apparently no good person wants anything to do with it !!#but the people with intent to harm... they seem to love it...#fucking. ugh #sorry im tmi-ing but like. this is all just so much #I have to calm down before game night. I may sit outside for a bit. its nice out there today.#fucking... cant believe I invited him to a game night... the first official gamenight too.... ugh #I hope that night doesnt stay stained by him forever.#oh.... oh hold on. grounding moment. I'm being so dramatic right now. ah #okay. yesyes. I am aware. I will be okay. I will get over this. just a chapter in my life! there will be other ones #more interesting ones and nicer ones #and maybe worse ones too!! this isnt everything !! its just one thing!!

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il-miele-che-scrive · 4 months

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the one where Y/n and Lando used to hookup and then fell out... or did they?

lowkey inspired by the interview where Oscar talks about spending time with his gf and Lando goes "awww" cus it got my brain making up scenarios

yourusername Maybe I was too much but you could've been more and we both know it

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yourfriend1 Situationship survivor 💔

username1 Ah, she's posting half naked pics means they're done

yourfriend2 Girl I didn't cry that much over a 3 years long relationship

↳yourusername I'm not crying lmao

yourfriend2 We need to go on a girls trip

yourfriend1 I second this!!

username2 Lando's loss tbh

username3 Not Carlos nonchalantly in the likes 👀

↳username4 I can't believe he would take Lando's leftovers

username5 You two can chill, Y/n and Carlos have been friends, they're not gonna end it because of a failed situationship

username3 Exactly! Maybe they'll become something more...

username5 Carlos is Lando's best friend, he wouldn't do it to him

username3 I mean it's not like Y/n was his gf or anything, they were just hooking up

username5 Yeah maybe also say it was her fault she caught feelings after he did all the things mentioned on the 2nd pic

username6 How could he not wanna make it official with HER?

↳username4 He's rich and famous, he can have 10 girls like her if he wanted to

username7 It makes me feel better about being in a situationship myself knowing Y/n also went through it

↳yourusername Girl it's a sign to leave him, don't waste your time

username7 It's just for the plot 🤭

yourusername NOT worth it

username8 Stay strong, I promise it gets better and one day you'll find someone who'll truly care about you

↳yourusername Already did ❤️ @/yourfriend1 @/yourfriend2

username9 Well, I guess a relationship was a bit too much for little Lando Norris

landonorris Catching little feelings, thought we had arrangements

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username1 HOW DARE HE????

↳username2 I guess men just have the audacity 🥲

yourfriend1 When you act like you're in a relationship with her so she thinks you wanna be in a relationship with her 🙄

↳username3 That's Y/n's best friend right there 😭

maxfewtrell Drunk Lando is the worst Lando I've ever had to deal with

↳landonorris we both know that's a lie cmon

angryginge13 I forgot how fun it is to go out with you

↳maxfewtrell I swear something got into him lately, like sure he always loved to party but have you seen how drunk he was?

angryginge13 tbh I barely remember that night lol

username4 AHA so Lando is also going through it

username5 as 👏 he 👏 should 👏

username6 What's wrong with men these days? All I see are situationships, fwbs, ons, what happened to feelings? What happened to love?

↳username7 I guess dating apps messed up our perception of relationships

username6 This is sad.

username8 Well, at least Y/n isn't out getting drunk

↳username9 We can't be sure, we know all she wants us to know, her life can be totally different than what she shows on social media

username10 They had arrangements as he said, it's her fault she fell in love

↳yourfriend1 Oh will you all just shut up?

username10 Someone's mad lol

username11 So many people idolizing Lando just because he can drive a fast car in circles but in reality he's just your average brit in his 20s with commitment issues

↳username12 He's still young, he doesn't have to get in a serious relationship if he doesn't want to

username11 But it was wrong of him to lead Y/n on

username12 Just as someone said already - not his fault that she caught feelings. These typa things aren't for everyone. Or maybe she was hoping he'll fall in love or something

username11 Yeah? How is it that men these days want the benefits of a relationship without the responsibilities?

username12 Did he force her into it? Nope. She could've said no it's not my thing bye. But she didn't. She stayed with him

username11 If you wanna have sex without commitment just pay for it, it's still a thing. You can't have stuff like this for free, at the cost of another person's feelings

A month later

yourusername Kisses to my exes who don't give a shit about me

view all comments

yourfriend1 I'm glad you feel better now ❤️

↳yourusername I feel so much more alive now

username1 They all slaaaaay

yourfriend2 Remind me, why haven't we done this kinda trips before?

↳yourusername Cuz we're stupid 🫶

yourfriend1 We're not stupid, we're sillymates

yourusername Fuck soulmates when you can have sillymates

yourfriend2 Stupid choices were made tho

yourusername Neither of you stopped me lmao

carlossainz55 Wasn't it a little too cold to sit on the balcony like this?

↳yourusername The wine warmed us up!!

carlossainz55 Text me if you're ever curious about other ways to warm yourself up *this comment has been deleted*

carlossainz55 Good to know you're having fun!🍷

username3 Carlos, everyone saw that comment you deleted...

username2 Where's the person who said Carlos wouldn't do that to Lando? WHERE?!

username4 Y/n should post to the song enough for you, particularly this part "cause someday I'll be everything to somebody else"

↳username5 Ngl I feel like most Olivia's songs would fit her situation right now

maxfewtrell That looks familiar...

↳username5 Nah boy, get the hell out of this comment section

username6 Wait, let him speak, maybe he has new information

username7 I need to know what stupid choices is Y/n talking about and what Max means 😭

↳username8 They're feeding us breadcrumbs and they know what they're doing

landonorris ice spice ❄

view all comments

charles_leclerc Ice ice baby 😂❄️

maxfewtrell The gossip pages gonna love this one

↳username1 So that's what Max meant when he said it looked familiar

username2 I'll wait for further explanation 😶

username3 I refuse to believe Y/n went through all the heartbreak just to hook up with him again in Finland

↳username4 Well, she liked this post so...

username3 She got the Stockholm syndrome or what? 😭

username5 At this point she deserves this

username6 @/yourusername I am very disappointed in your actions

↳username3 Bro casually tagging Y/n like she's gonna answer

↳username3 Btw it's not confirmed that they hooked up again

username7 Pls don't break her heart again

username8 I get a little heart attack every time Lando posts

username9 Guys it doesn't make sense, Y/n wouldn't go to Finland with Lando AND with her girls

↳username2 What if they went there separately and just happened to run into each other?

username9 Yeah, because there's no other places to go skiing. Someone had to arrange it or something, it cannot be a coincidence

username2 Look, the universe works in weird ways, do you know the invisible string theory?

username9 Oh no you're one of these people? 🤡

username2 All I'm saying is to me they seem like 'right people, wrong time' and maybe finally the timing is right for them

username7 No no no Y/n deserves way better, Lando is too toxic for her

username2 Do you know him? Maybe he was going thru something and it just wasn't the time for him to be in a relationship

username9 A delusional yapper is what you are

yourusername Back home with a new passion

view all comments

yourfriend1 You gotta stop feeding me these 😭

↳yourusername What, you don't like them? 🥹

yourfriend1 I love them, that's the issue!!

username1 And Lando isn't with her

↳username2 Why would he be?

username1 I think everyone thought they're together again after Finland

username2 They were NEVER together

yourfriend2 Can you get your asses out of here?

landonorris Looks delicious (the food too)

↳username3 DON'T GIVE ME HOPE

username4 Don't worry, it's just an average text from a situationship you'd get after weeks of no contact

username5 Usually followed up by "you busy tonight?"

↳username6 Ariana what are you doing here

↳username7 Man saw that comment Carlos deleted and decided to gatekeep

username5 Bet that's not the only thing he did when he saw that

username7 wdym 😭

username5 There's no way they didn't fuck

↳username8 fr a way to mark his territory

↳yourfriend1 She said she blocked you after Finland

landonorris She didn't😁

yourfriend1 I'll make sure she does now

landonorris She won't😌

username7 We need to know what happened in Finland 😭

username1 I wish he would share the secret

username2 Yeah, Oscar, don't be shy, share it with the class

username3 My bet is Y/n let Lando manipulate her again

↳username4 They're both adults like Y/n sweetie just say no it's that easy

username5 I'm gonna manifest Y/n and Lando announcing a relationship soon 🕯

username6 I mean have y'all seen Lando? I'm NOT surprised Y/n keeps coming back even if he's doing just the bare minimum

↳username7 He's average. The fact that he's famous and has money makes him more attractive

username6 Do you think he pays Y/n for... you know?

username7 🤷‍♀️

username8 Words cannot express how much this man gets on my nerves

↳username9 Same like man stop being blind and see that Y/n is gf material, not some hookup to be used and left

username10 I wish Oscar would've spoken😭

username11 Get your shit together Lando

↳username12 Well maybe Y/n doesn't mind

username11 It didn't seem like it

username12 People change 🤷‍♀️

username11 I wish Lando would've been the one to change 🙏

username13 Lando has NO RIGHT to speak on other people's relationships being a walking definition of commitment issues himself

↳username14 chill yo tits, I think he truly thought what Oscar said was cute

yourusername We turned out to like each other way more than we originally planned

view all comments

yourfriend1 I'm tired of you both already

maxfewtrell It's gonna be one of those "they still together?" kinda relationships

↳yourusername We plan on being an insufferable pain in the ass together just for you 🫶

maxfewtrell I see Lando is already changing you for the worse

landonorris the process began way earlier

maxfewtrell But you didn't have the balls to commit

↳yourfriend2 She deserves so much better

yourfriend1 Yeah @/yourusername deserves so much better, I wish she would've read the comments

carlossainz55 Congrats, you finally tamed him👏

yourusername I hate you both ❤️

↳landonorris wow, I love supportive friends

yourfriend2 Who said we're your friends?

yourfriend1 We have to tolerate your ass but it doesn't mean we're suddenly friends

↳landonorris You've been waiting to see this happen

carlossainz55 Of course, I've been telling you to get a girlfriend for so long now

↳username1 ekhm...

↳username2 We will never forget

username3 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM?

username4 Miss girl needs to share her manifestation techniques with us

oscarpiastri Don't have to thank me

↳landonorris Yup, you did nothing

↳yourusername Thank you Oscahhh

username5 I MANIFESTED IT 🕯

yourusername For our 6 months anniversary we forced our friends to go camping with us 🏕

view all comments

yourfriend1 It wasn't as bad as I thought

↳angryginge13 Worse?

yourfriend1 Oh definitely

landonorris I'm really surprised they got along

↳maxfewtrell What other choice we had?

↳yourfriend2 Anything for Y/n tbh

↳yourfriend1 Still doesn't mean we don't hate you

yourfriend2 Yeah, good friends will always say 'but she deserves better' (she really does)

maxfewtrell I didn't expect you to last that long

↳yourusername Excuse me? 🤨

maxfewtrell You know, it's Lando

yourusername I guess you're right lmao

landonorris Now what is that supposed to mean?

yourusername Nothing, don't be mad❤️

↳landonorris That's what she said

yourusername NO IT'S NOT WTF 😭

oscarpiastri What if I tag along the next time?

↳yourusername I'd be happy 🫶 if you bring Lily as well it would be perfect

username1 WAR IS OVER

username2 I love how winter break is always pure chaos and summer break is just fun and chill

danielricciardo When can I join you though?

↳landonorris I promise next time I visit you in Australia it'll be with Y/n

yourusername You didn't even ask me...

landonorris Well, do you wanna go?

yourusername DUH

↳username3 No cuz these pics have strong Danny Ricc energy, I'm surprised he wasn't there

username4 The friend groups were forced to unite, I'm afraid they're together for life (I'm manifesting🤞)

↳username5 I hope they are, I feel like Lando really matured with Y/n by his side

username4 He went from "I don't wanna mature, I'm happy where I am" to this 😭

username6 I wish all situationships would turn out like this

↳username7 World would be a better place

username8 Right people right time❤️

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #F1 smau #formula 1 smau #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris social media au

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

Text

Grill the Grid

Guys, I'm sorry this is so short. I've had a bout of writers block but still wanted to get another chapter out. I will be going back to working on the regular chapters soon! But enjoy this take on Grill the Grid!

Like always - comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love :D

Key for this chapter: regular text - just normal speaking bold - words on the flip boards italics - scene change bold italics - the narrator lady

Episode One: Radio Show

A quick snapshot of each driver shows up before the opening title of “Grill the Grid” crosses the screen.

You quickly showed up and clapped your hands.

“Welcome ladies and gents to another season of Grill the Grid.” You showed a cheeky smile as you winked to the camera.

“Can you please state your name and what team you drive for?”

You sighed as you thought. “Christian is going to kill me if I can't remember all of it.” You looked back at the camera. “My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula One Team.”

“That is correct.”

Your eyes widened as you started to laugh. “I didn’t think I’d get that.”

The lady behind the camera smiled. “Max didn’t get the entire thing.”

You stared at the camera like you were on the office before turning to someone off camera to the side. “Do I get a point for that?”

The video now cut to Max.

Max had his hands on his side, head down before he looked back up.

He had a nervous smile as he tried to think. “Yeah, I don’t know. Red Bull Racing?” He shrugged as multiple people around him laughed.

“It’s actual Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing.”

Max rolled his eyes. “How is anyone supposed to remember that?”

“Y/n did.”

“Of course.”

Words flashed on the screen signaling to viewers the actual start of the episode. Multiple familiar faces showed as they all stood next to a board with multiple flaps of paper.

Lando smugly looked at the title and then to the camera. “I got this in the bag.”

“How do you think you’ll do?”

Oscar was now on screen. “Uhhhhh.” He didn’t have time to answer.

“I think I’ll do ok. I’m not too familiar with other team’s radios, but I can try?” A red-clad Monegasque questioned himself.

The drivers all flipped the first page.

--He better get me more stroopwaffles after that. Asshole--

You flipped the first page and barely glanced at it before answering. “Lando.”

“Lando.” Max also flipped.

Oscar, Daniel, Charles, and Carlos at once, “Lando.”

Lando just stared into the camera. “Me?”

You smiled back at the camera. “This was at Zandvoort right? After Max kinda bumped him.”

“He pushed me off the track! Bumped is an understatement.” Lando now flipped the next page and leaned back to laugh. “Y/n.”

--Speed. I am Speed. One winner, 19 losers. I eat losers for breakfast--

Max, once again, barely glanced before answering, “Y/n.”

Lance looked around trying to get a hint. He couldn’t find one. “Logan? I know he’s watched the Cars movies.”

Logan laughed as well before shaking his head. “Y/n.”

“Me.” Your face flushed red. “Truthfully, I didn’t know the radio was on.”

Oscar made a noise as he thought. “I want to say Logan because he recently watched that. But my heart wants to say Y/n.”

“Is that your final answer.”

“Yes.”

“That’s correct.”

Fernando, Carlos, Daniel, and Alex flipped the page. “Y/n.”

--This is what she gets for telling me to use my mirrors. AHA! Does she even have her driver’s license?--

“Aha! This is Daniel.” You stood looking at the next page. “So in quali, he almost hit me in turn four during my flying lap and I told him to use his mirrors in the race. Well, he overtook me in the first lap and I fell behind.” Your smile disappeared as you looked right into the camera. “And yes, I have my driver’s license.”

Daniel almost fell to his knees as he read the next one. His gummy smile almost took over his face. “This is me to Y/n.”

Max just looked lost. “Who said this?”

“Daniel.”

“Oh.”

Episode Two: Champions Part 2

“So do you know what’s next?”

You looked confused as you looked around the empty space. “Well there’s no board here?”

Charles shrugged. “It could be anything. I certainly hope that this season we won’t have to list the champions in some order again.”

Max looked around with a confused look. “Again?”

Lewis rolled his eyes. “Man I knew I should have gone back and actually memorized them.”

“There’s no way someone is getting all of them. Sebastian is gone.” Lando shrugged.

It was now back to Charles who looked a bit more pale. A loud beep sounded on a views screen as he looked down.

You once again clapped. “I knew all those Wikipedia pages would come in handy. Are we starting from newest to oldest or oldest to newest.”

“Any way you want.”

You looked up in thought as you started to list. “Ok. Max was in 2023, 2022, 2021. Then Lewis in 2020, 2019, 1028, 2017. Nico won in 2016 then it was back to Lewis in ’15 and ’14. Seb won from 2013 to 2010…”

Max sighed before he started. “Uh, me in 2023 to 2021. Then Lewis until 2014.”

“Incorrect. Nico won in 2016.”

Max hummed. “Uh, Nico in ’16. Then Lewis to ’14. I know Seb won in 2013.”

It was back to you. “And then Michael Schumacher again in 2010, which was his first with Ferrari. Then it was Hakkinen in ’99 and ’98. Uh, Villeneuve in 1997 who was preceded by Hill in 1996. Then it was back to Schumi in ’95 and ’94.”

Lando looked lost.

Charles was still pale but he tried. “It was Max, Lewis, Nico, Lewis again. Then Seb then Lewis again?”

“You’re forgetting another Mercedes Driver.”

Charles looked even more confused. “Uh.”

“Jensen Button in 2009.”

“He was in Mercedes?” Charles just ended up walking off.

Back to you. “Mario Andretti was the last American in 1978. Niki and Hunt danced around from 1977 to 1976. Then it was Fittipaldi, Stewart, Fittpaldi, Stewart, Rindt, Stewart respectfully in 1975, 1974, 1973, 1972, 1971, and 1970.”

Oscar looked as if he was having a stroke.

Logan ran a hand down his face. “I only know Andretti in 1978 and then Phil Hill in 1961. You know. Go America!”

Fernando tried but couldn’t get past the nineties. Yet he had a smile on his face. “Y/n got all of these right, correct?”

“She was the only one.”

“Shut up, no she wasn’t.” Lando didn’t believe it.

“Of course she did.” Max could only chuckle. “She would brag and brag about this in the plane.”

“And then Ascari in 1952, then Fangio in 1951, and finally Farina in 1950!” You had a proud look on your face. “I knew I could do it. Did I miss any?”

“Nope.”

Episode Three: Guess These Headlights

Charles, who had now recovered from his bout of PTSD, suddenly looked excited. “Now here is something I can do.”

“Are you a car guy?”

“Definitely.” Carlos responded with a smug look. “I grew up around cars.”

“I mean. I know my McLarens?” Oscar questioned. “This is going to be hard.”

Lando looked ready. “Let’s get this going.”

You looked determined. “Bring it on.” You flipped the first page. “Ah. That’s a classic. A Ferrari F40.” You turned back to the camera. “If I didn’t have my Porsches, I would have bought an F40.” A far away thoughtful look crossed your face. “Maybe I’ll still get one. I’ll ask Charles. He can get me one.”

Charles quickly answered “F40” and then flipped. “Ah. This is McLaren P1.”

“McLaren P1,” Oscar answered. “The logo is in the headlights. Pretty helpful.”

Daniel flipped the next one and stood back, hands on his hips. “I know Max has this car. But I can’t remember the name.”

Lance finally looked as though he knew what it was. “This is the Aston Valkyrie.”

Fernando also guessed it correctly. “Aston Valkyrie.”

Next, Carlos easily got the next one. “La Ferrari. I wanted one.”

“Did you get one.”

Carlos nodded his head before answering. “No.”

Max flipped through the pages very quickly. “Ah! I know this one. Y/n has two of these. It’s the Porsche 9-11’s.”

“Y/n’s Porsche. The 9-11 model,” Alex responded.

“I see these in my garage since Y/n’s apartment didn’t come with one, so she puts her’s in mine. It’s the Porsche 9-11,” Logan had a happy smile as he knew one. The next one, he didn’t know.

“Not a clue.” Charles, Oscar, and Daniel all said as they flipped.

Max took a minute to look at the X looking headlights. He hummed. “Y/n was just showing me a TikTok with this car. Says she wants one someday.”

You had a giant grin on your face as you looked at the headlights.

“Do you know what this car is?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course I know. It’s the 3 million dollar Ferrari V12 Engine Apollo Project Evo. There are currently 10 of them only in the world, and they are all owned.”

“Do you have one of them?”

You only smirked as you looked into the camera.

Max still stood next to his board, eyes to the sky as he really thought. His eyebrows raised as he remembered the answer. “This is like...the Apollo E car?”

“That is correct. Now, does Y/n own one of these? She didn’t give us an answer.”

Max looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh. No comment?”

Episode Four: Random Skills

“Ok. For this challenge you have to guess what driver has this skill.”

“Easy.” Came from Lando.

You looked around confused. “I don’t think I have any skills.”

“Do I even have a skill for them to use?” Lewis questioned himself.

“First skill. Which driver is known for playing the piano.”

“Sharl,” you smirked. “Easy.”

“Charles.” Lance, Fernando, and Daniel all answered.

“Me.” The Monegasque had a smile on his face.

Oscar looked up. “Is it Y/n? She looks like she can play the piano.”

“He said that? I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.” You shrugged.

“Which drivers claims to be able to hit a hole in one at the Monte Carlo Golf Course.”

Max rolled his eyes. “I know Lando has claimed, but I’m going to say Carlos.”

Carlos looked lost. “Me? I don’t know if I’ve said that though. Maybe Lando?”

Logan answered, “Lando?”

Lando also looked lost. “Me?”

“No.”

“Who is it then?” You questioned. Lando and Carlos had been your guess.

“It is Pierre Gasly.”

Lando huffed. “Get out of here.”

The man in question had a guilty smile. “I forgot I said that. Let’s say it’s still true.”

You looked eager to get on with the game. You wanted to win that trophy.

“Which driver has set a drive time around the Daytona International Speedway at 1 minute and 40 seconds. Which is only 8 seconds slower than the lap record.”

“Oh, I didn’t know I would get on here for this category. It’s me right?”

“Correct, Logan.”

You took a little while to guess. “I’m gonna say Logan. Sounds like a very American thing to do at Daytona. And his brother drove for NASCAR right?”

“Correct.”

Your fist pumped the air.

Oscar looked elated at this question. “It’s Logan. I was there when he did it.” A big smile crossed his face.

Lance looked around in thought. “Uhhhhh. Lando? I don’t know.”

Lando also looked happy, as he seemed to know the answer. “It’s Logan right? Yeah, Logan. Final answer.”

“Are there any geography questions this season, or…” Max drew out the last syllable as he laughed with the others. He suddenly went cold stare. “I’m being serious.”

“Which driver knows how to moon walk?”

Fernando squinted his eyes as he thought before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s one of the young ones right? Yuki?”

Yuki was also as lost as Fernando. “I wish it was me. Maybe Lando? He DJ’s right?”

“It’s not Lando. But it is a younger driver.”

“I should know this after she made me play Just Dance for three hours one time. It’s Y/n.” Logan looked put off at his mention of the dance off.

Oscar also looked bored as he also brought it up. “Yeah, it’s Y/n. I threw Just Dance out after she left. No more.”

Max rubbed his face. “She plays it with P whenever she comes over. They play the same one over and over again. Y/n.”

Charles had a far off look, like one of an older man who suddenly was hit with PTSD from war. He whispered, “We don’t mention moonwalk. Not after her and Arthur…” He never finished as he walked off again.

You had a shit-eating grin on your face. “Me! And I tried to teach it to Oscar, Lando, Logan, Max, Charles, Arthur…” You just seemed to keep going and going. They finally had to stop you before you kept going on about the Just Dance discography.

Bloopers

You stood in front of the camera with one of the que things that snap. “And action! Do you even say that anymore? And I thought this was an actual set. I might have cried when I saw the green screen.”

Beep

The camera showed Max creeping in as you continued listing all of the champions in order. He looked over at the camera like was on the office. “Is she still going?”

Beep

Logan kept touching his hair and the makeup lady would slap his hands away to fix it. “NASCAR drivers don’t have to go through this. I bet they don’t have to list all the freaking Formula 1 champions in order.” He leaned in and made a gesture. “See. All they have to do is kiss a brick and they get one when they win.”

Beep

Oscar smiled as he looked around, honestly excited to get this over with. “I think I’m finally ready for redemption. This should be easy.”

The camera cut to him after ever he finished filming. “I take it back. That was not easy. You guys really need to find better questions.”

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