#not a school boy and isn't fancy yet. just a man

[tacticaldiary]

omg saw your post and yes i’d love to see jealous fic with any of the cod men, especially simon >>>>>

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort ; Jealousy

He's not a man who acts impulsively, but this might be the one time he throws caution to the wing and takes the one thing he wants.

A/N: Ghost won by a massive majority so here he is! (I read all of your asks, just chose this one to link the fic to!)

Masterlist

He was an enigma.

Quick to act and as observant as a cat on the field, Ghost picked up the smallest of details and clicked them all together in his head in milliseconds. Acting quickly and efficiently could be the distinction between life and death, after all.

So why the hell wasn't he as observant now?

She had spent months and months dropping hints. Lingering touches, secret smiles. At times, she might as well have told him up front how she fancied him with how she acted, but never once had Ghost reciprocated properly.

"Ya joining us, aren't ya?" Soap grins at her as they walk out of their respective locker rooms together. "Won't be the same without someone to go easy on the eyes." He snickers when she scoffs, nudging him with an elbow.

"I'll be there." She's unable to hold back a smile when he cheers and slings an arm around her shoulders.

From the corner of her eye, she catches Ghost on the far side of the hallway. He must not have gotten a chance to shed his gear yet. He's talking to Price, both of them engaged in what looks like a serious conversation, but every so often his eyes flitter over to her and Soap...more intense than usual?

It strikes her as odd, the heat behind his glances and a sneaking suspicion creeps into her mind. Grinning to herself, she wraps an arm around Soap's waist and tugs him closer while they walk, listening to him talk about the bar everyone plans to hit tonight.

His spine straightens and she swears she sees his arms tense, folded across his chest.

But he says nothing, Simply turns back to Price and doesn't spare her another glace when they walk by.

At this point, she just wants him to either confirm or reject her so she can get out of this eternal limbo of dancing back and forth. She knows he feels the same way to some degree, that much is clear to her. The way he sits next to her for hours when she gets injured on call and has to recover in the medbay, the rest of the 141 gone, late into the night.

She sees it in the way he has no problem guiding her by a warm hand on the small of her back, the way his eyes are the first to flicker to her mouth whenever she talks during a debriefing.

The interest it there, and it certainly isn't platonic. Not with the intensity of the tension between them.

Yet he never acts.

Never accepts her advances, but never pushes her away or rejects her either.

It was driving her crazy.

Fine. If he wanted to keep playing this strange game, he could keep doing so. It doesn't mean that she has to go along with it. She deserved to have some fun after their particularly gruelling mission too, right?

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The club is a new one, not yet broken in by the tradition of the team winding down after a deployment. Old school wooden bars and stool mixed with a modern twist of sleek decor, she rather likes it.

Strapped in a dress that had been in her closet for months unused, she makes herself forget about her back and forth with Ghost and just...enjoy herself.

Soap had been on her the second she entered, waving her over, Gaz pushing a drink into her hand with a cheeky smile. Price nurses a glass of whiskey by the bar. The only one she doesn't see is Ghost.

Sitting over at the bar listening to the boys go back and forth over what type of alcohol they preferred, she's mulling over whether to head to the floor. Deciding against it she waves the bartender over and asks for a refill.

"Put that on my tab." A man slides into the stool next to her, offering her a smile.

"Are you sure?" She asks, straightening up. The first thing she notices is that he's attractive. A strong jaw, lean and rich brown skin.

"Positive." He chuckles. "It'd be my honour to buy a drink for someone as gorgeous as you." His eyes rake over her once, before he drags them back to her eyes confidently.

The attention makes heat creep up her ears, not because it was particularly new, she's not a stranger to lingering glances, but because it's so blatant. Something tells her this man is not used to getting told no.

Not that she has any intention to do so.

She catches Price's eye, a silent raise of an eyebrow asking if she needed any help. Tired of mulling over someone who refused to reciprocate, she gives her Captain a subtle shake of the head and turns her body towards the man.

It makes her heart warm, how much Price cares about her and the others outside of them being his subordinates. There has to be a certain level of trust between people personally for them to completely trust each other on the field, and trust was something integral to all of them.

He introduces himself as Noah and strikes up a conversation that genuinely keeps her engaged. She's surprised to find out he watches her favourite show, and they share quite a few common interests.

While he's talking about what he does for a living, she feels a shiver run up her spine, eyes at the back of her head.

Looking around the room, it's not difficult to pinpoint the perpetrator.

Ghost looks...well, he look good, he always does, but there's a tightness to his posture like she saw back in that hallway with Soap. His jaw is ticked as he glares at Noah.

His eyes soften the barest bit when they meet hers.

No. No, she wasn't doing this right now. She was having fun with Noah right now, not thinking about Simon striding over towards her, pulling her up and out of the stool. That would not happen, she knows it. He wouldn't act on whatever was getting him riled up.

So she keeps talking to Noah, and yes, maybe she is being a little more animated than before. Perhaps she is giving him wider, flirtier smiles and leaning into him when he talks. Maybe her laughs are louder and her maybe she does place a hand on his arm once or twice but it's all because she would rather throw herself into this conversation than think about the other man staring holes into the back of her head.

At one point, Noah leans in close to her ear. "I can tell I have you impressed. What do you say I show you what other aspects of my shining...personality in a more private place?" He winks.

Simon wouldn't have been this forward, she thinks. He would've...what? Would he have taken his time with her? Bought her more than a single drink? He wasn't one for small talk so maybe he'd skip it altogether and...why on Earth was she thinking about that? Frustration bubbles up inside her as she berates herself for getting lost in her head again. None of that would happen because-...well, he wasn't even there anymore, wasn't leaning near the bar where he'd been staring at her.

See? He didn't care enough to act otherwise. His absence proves it.

So with the desperate need to distract herself, she smiles at Noah. "You're just full of good ideas, aren't you?" She says, standing to smooth the wrinkles in her dress. Noah joins her, a hand to the small of her back, leading her away from the bar (she's not thinking about how Simon's hands are bigger, warmer, and rougher-).

"She's busy." If the familiar gruff voice didn't stop her in her track, the hand circling her wrist definitely did.

"Excuse me?" Noah retorts, eyes narrowing. He has to look up to meet Simon's eyes, looking between him and the hand on her wrist. "And who are you?" He snips, and she's a little surprised at the sudden nasty tone of voice. So much so, she frowns at him and steps out of his hold, coincidentally closer to Simon.

"None of your business." Simon's anger is subtle, but there, like the growl of a dog before he bites, and she'd be lying if it didn't make her shiver.

"I do think it's my business. We were just leaving." Noah goes to grab her, but Simon tugs her into his side, putting himself between them.

"I'm going to tell you to get lost once. The consequences of whether you choose to listen or not are gonna be on you, mate." His accent is thicker when he's talking as low as he is, and Noah must have the sense to heed the threat lacing his words because he grits his jaw and walks out the doors alone, muttering curses under his breath as he leaves.

She's...well, she's stunned at the display of...whatever that was. His hand hasn't left her wrist. In fact, he doesn't speak to her, just pulls her along to a more secluded part of the bar, the hallway that leads to the restrooms. Music fades into the background and chatter recedes until it's just the two of them.

"What is it, Simon?" She sighs, yanking her hand free. "What was that about?"

"You were just gonna leave with him?" He asks incredulously. "Without knowing where the hell he was taking you or giving someone else a location to find you? Are you daft?" She bristles at the chiding.

"Are you fucking with me?" She blinks up with him. "I'm a grown ass woman, Simon. I can make my own calls."

"Doesn't mean they're good ones."

"What is your problem?!" She exclaims, and the months of dwelling frustration finally come pouring out. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not going to pretend that I'm not...that I don't like you because I've made it pretty damn clear that I do, and I think you know that too. You do nothing but watch, and I'm sick of it." She shoves his chest, huffing when he doesn't budge. Keeping her hands where they are, she balls them into fists. "How fucking dare you try and act all possessive now when you barely have the balls to choose between rejecting me and getting closer! How dare you try and get in the way when you-"

"Bloody hell, woman." He cuts in with a low growl, and he moves so suddenly she doesn't register him tugging his mask up to his nose and crashing his lips over hers. A strong arm circles her waist, walks her backwards until he back hits the walls and closes the gap between their bodies.

God, she's so glad she didn't go home with Noah.

It's intoxicating.

He's intoxicating.

He doesn't stop until she's breathless, until he's all consuming in her thoughts. When he pulls back, barely a centimetre, she can hear him whisper over the humming in her ears.

"That close enough for you, love?" He says lowly, his breath ghosting over her lips. "Think I got my stance on you across?"

She swallows, steadying her breathing, feeling herself flush. He's all muscle and power against her body, better than what she thought he'd feel like.

"I don't know." She hums. "You might have to show me again so I can be sure."

His small huff of amusement makes her smile giddily before he kisses her again, and all feel right in the world., the tightness in her chest settling down.

Who knew jealousy could lead to such a sweet end to the night?

"Steamin' Jesus!" A Scottish drawl breaks them apart, she clutches onto Simon like she's just been caught doing something bad. Soap whoops out a laugh and eyes the both of them victoriously at the both of them before striding back out of the hallway, calling out; "Gaz, ya' owe me ten bucks!"

"Fucking hell." She giggles when Simon's head drops to her shoulder.

Requests Are Open!

(20/06/2023)

#ray talks #fanfic #fanfiction #ghost call of duty #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw22 #cod mw x reader #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #mw2022 #soap mw2 #cod #kyle gaz garrick #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod headcanons #soap cod #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare price

[saltyinternetflower]

A Toji x reader mini fic

Both are adults with an age gap.

(Art by nendesignx on Instagram)

You: Uh... Excuse me, Mister. I think we need to talk.

Toji: Now isn't the time, lady! I'm here on some business.

You: Actually, it's kind of important. Do you remember beating up two boys on the street yesterday, while I was talking to them?

Toji: Talking? Those two were groping you and harassing you! You don't talk to creeps, sweetie, you BEAT the sh*t outta them.

You (angrily): Sweetie? Really? I'm a Jujutsu sorcerer, Tough guy, I had it under control.

Toji: *snickers* A jujutsu sorcerer, you say? Well, that explains the attitude. You're welcome, by the way.

You: So you expect gratitude for saving someone who didn't even asked to be saved in the first place!

Toji: *shrugs* You didn't have to ask. I was gonna do it anyway.

You: Why? You don't look like a guy who goes around randomly saving people.

Toji: No, I'm not really the hero type. But I know you, Miss y/n, you used to go to the same school as my son...

You: *gasp* You have a son?!

Toji: *chuckles* Megumi, my son, is studying in Tokyo Jujutsu Academy.

You: You're Gumi-kun's dad? Oh...He... He was my kohai, I was in his senior class.

Toji: *nods* I'm Toji.

You: S...sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, Toji sama! Thank you for standing up for me.

Toji: *grimaces* Err...forget it. Those pesky rats won't dare touch you again. Now, if you don't mind, I'm kinda starving, and I gotta go.

You: I know a place that makes the best garlic noodles!

Toji: *raises eyebrows* Do I look like a man who visits fancy places, hun?

You: Let me thank you properly and buy you lunch, at least!

Toji: *scratches chin* Ah, well, if you insist...I can't say no to pretty ladies.

You (smirking): Did you just flirt with me? I'm afraid you're not very subtle, Toji sama.

Toji: *scoffs* Definitely less subtle than you checking out my abs, sweet pea.

*leans closer* see something you like, miss?

You: WHAT THE HELL! Who's the creep now, old man?!

Toji: Fool yourself as you want. You're the one who followed me and found me on a busy street, fight with me for defending your delicate...uh, modesty, and look at me like I'm a three course gourmet meal! So you decide who's the creepy stalker here. Good day, and good luck finding me again.

You: *exhale sharply* You're so rude, mean, arrogant, full of wormsh*t...

Toji: Then why are you grabbing my shirt?

You: Toji sama, we're not done yet. I'll prove to you I'm not the least bit affected by you. For starters, we'll go to a restaurant, have lunch sitting side by side, and I'll not even take a single look at you.

Toji: Hmmm... Sounds like a challenge. Interesting!

You: *huff* Are you in or out?

Toji: I like challenges, specially when lovely ladies are involved.

You: Careful, I'll win easy, grandpa!

Toji: Maybe we can level up the challenge by going to a movie later.

We'll see.

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk fanfic #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk fanart #jjk fandom

[thebeatles-world]

Picture Perfect: Part Six

***** A BIT OF SMUT **** ⚠️‼️⚠️ MENTIONS OF S*X ...... BEWARE..... FYI THIS IS A LONG IMAGINE SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT....

There was an agreement between you and Ringo that you two would spend a couple of nights in a fancy motel. Just a couple of days before you guys chose to go home back to England.

When you and Ringo were making love to each other, Floyd Robinson's "Makin' Love" was playing in the background.

As far as you know, you have never had any experience with someone making love to you except for Ringo.

Due to the fact that Ringo made you feel so fantastic, you moaned.

The only thing Elvis ever wanted was to have sex with you. As far as you are concerned, he never made love to you.

It was the first time Ringo had shown you sex until now.

In view of the fact that you and Elvis had constant sex back then, the only reason you and Ringo postponed having sex was the fact that you weren't ready for it yet.

Ringo was the first person to give you an orgasm.

''It drives me insane when you moan Y/N. you drive me so mad.'' Ringo groans as he responds to your moans.

It was impossible for you and Ringo to keep both of your hands apart from each other.

Ringo and you found each other's pleasure in each other's company. You both performed oral sex on each other during the course of the night.

The two of you liked to pleasure one another as well as hearing each other moan with pleasure.

You left love bites on Ringo's chest while he left love bites on your bare shoulders.

It was the best night you could ever have..

When you and Ringo finished making love to each other, you got dressed, made yourself a cup of honey with tea, and walked out of the room to the balcony where you could admire the view of the beach outside of the fancy hotel.

''You must admit that it is quite beautiful, isn't it? '' You told Ringo as he joined you on the balconey.

"The beach is indeed beautiful.'' Ringo replied, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he smiled back at you.

Taking a sip of your honey tea, you said to Ringo, "You know, I wasn't exactly the prettiest girl in the world.'' You told him, taking a sip of your honey tea.

''What are you talking about? You are beautiful to me, darling, and I adore you. It doesn't matter what you looked like in the past; you will always remain beautiful to me.'' Ringo told you.

I appreciate it very much, Ringo… I really do. You smiled as you said it. The memories of horror that you went through when you were a middle school student, and a high school student came back to you like crashing waves from a ocean.

There was a time that I was bullied because of my looks, the way my body looked, my voice, and so on. You explained this to Ringo.

The girls at school always made fun of me, laughed at me, threw things at me, gossiped about me, and made fun of me all the time. During my time at school, I was harassed and made fun of by the boys in my class as well.'' You said.

''There wasn't really a good school life as well as a good home life for me growing up. The woman who bullied me at home was my mother. In addition to being bullied at home, I was also bullied at school at the same time. It's hard to believe that I managed to survive.'' You replied.

There are a lot of details in your book that go into detail about all of this.

The only time you liked talking about it was when people in interviews asked you about it when they were asking you questions about your book.

As you grew up, you went through a very difficult time in your life. You also knew that Ringo had read your book, but he knew not to ask you any questions about it until you were ready to open up about it. Now you were ready to talk about your past and what you went through in the past.

Your mother abused and bullied you as well as when your parents divorced, and you explained to Ringo the abuse and bullying she put you through, as well as how your father caught your mother cheating on him with a man who ended up becoming her husband, who then ended up doing something horrible to you behind closed doors when your mother was not present.

Ultimately, when you finally told your mother about it, she did not believe you and kicked you out of the house, so you had no choice but to live with your father.

As soon as you had finished talking, you took a sip of your tea and sat down to rest. You felt better in Ringo's arms as he held you and comforted you with sweet words which made you feel better as he wrapped his arms around you.

''You are the strongest woman I have ever met in my life. I will protect you and make sure that you will never be touched or even hurt by anyone again. You mean so much to me darling, and I promise you I won't ever allow you to go through that again…'' Ringo told you.

As you looked at Ringo, you nodded and kissed his lips with a soft smile. ''I love you so much, Ringo.'' you told him quietly and he kissed you back.

"Y/N, I will always love you and I will always take care of you." Ringo replied.

Ringo was a wonderful boyfriend for you: he was so handsome, sweet, caring, and lovely to be around.

While you and Ringo were cozily cuddling outside on the balcony, neither of you had any idea that Elvis had checked himself into the same fancy hotel where you were both staying.

Well, Elvis decided to rent a room at the fancy hotel with Ann-Margret, the same woman who he cheated on you with behind your back when he was filming a movie with her when you both were dating in the past.

When you found out that Elvis cheated on you with Ann-Margret, you angrily grabbed a glass plate and threw it at Elvis. After that, you burst into tears and cried uncontrollably as you watched Elvis scurry away, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

''I can't believe you would do this to me, Elvis! How could you cheat on me with Ann-Margret? I thought you loved me and that we were going to be together forever. I trusted you and now you've broken my heart.'' You would cry as Elvis just stared at you and didn't even try to comfort you or even say to you.

When you and Elvis broke up that's when he noticed how much it hurt you and he brings himself down sometimes because of it.

The main reason why Elvis was hanging out with Ann-Margret at the hotel was to get you out of his mind after what happen back in the club.

"Ann-Margret, I'm going to go smoke a cig real quick." Elvis said, nodding at her.

"All right, sweetie." Ann-Margret responded to him while she was unpacking her suitcase.

Elvis went outside and strolled down the beach. He heard crashing waves. It was incredibly quiet outside. The night sky was illuminated by the twinkling stars.

When Elvis started smoking his cigarette, he noticed that up in the balcony he could hear your voice as he smoked.

His first thought was that he was just imagining things, but it was not. it was real. The night sky was now filled with the sounds of your laughter and the voices of Ringo's chatter.

Elvis felt his heart race and he could feel a chill in the air.

Elvis was jealous of Ringo because he could kiss you, hold you, and call you his girl while Elvis could not do those things anymore. Elvis was reminded of this each time he heard your laughter, and he felt like he was missing out on something special. Elvis's heart ached.

"I'm going to get your bath ready inside." Elvis heard Ringo say and he couldn't help but gaze as you and Ringo exchanged a kiss.

''I'm going to go inside and get your bath ready.'' Elvis mocked Ringo in his best British accent.

''Why does that British kid have something that I don't have?'' Elvis thought to himself in jealous envy.

Why were the Beatles more popular than Elvis when Elvis felt like he wrote and sang better music than them?

Elvis saw you on the balcony by yourself when Ringo went inside. He finished his last bit of cigarette....

You dranked your last bit of tea. "Ah," you sighed, "the perfect way to end my night" You stood up and stretched, feeling refreshed.

Before you went inside, you suddenly spotted Elvis outside. He still hasn't notice you yet.

Your heart felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you by someone.

"What the heck was Elvis doing here?'' You whispered out loud to yourself.

TO BE CONTINUNED.....

#john lennon #the beatles #ringo starr #george harrison #the beatles tumblr #the beatles fandom #the beatles collection #beatlemania #the beatles imagine #Paul McCartney #ringo starr imagines #ringo starr imagine #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr smut

[janetbrown711]

Proud of Your Boy

Glass Shard || Vehicular accident || “Watch out!”

MK's missed one too many classes at his fancy schmancy school and now has to tell Pigsy he's at risk of expulsion.

However, MK would literally rather do anything-- anything other than tell him. Even if it means delivering noodles in rain so thick he can barely see.

This will work out just fine.

Ao3 Link

Pouring rain fell outside of Pigsy’s Noodles, setting a dreary mood for the already dreary teen pacing up and down the back alley. He was late for work, just as he’d been late for school, and late to wake up– all of which he had no good reason for.

He knew he should go inside, that his boss didn’t appreciate tardiness, but he couldn’t– he just couldn’t because sitting heavy in his front backpack pocket was a letter from MK’s principal, explaining that he’d missed roughly the maximum amount of classes for the year and was at risk of expulsion.

MK hated himself and his chronic lateness– it wasn’t that he was completely ditching classes most times, his trigonometry teacher just had it out for him, he swore. Though, it wasn’t like his other teachers were great either and sometimes MK felt like he’d sooner die than step inside those awful classrooms. Plus, it wasn't like Jian and his other classmates created a "welcoming environment".

Still, MK knew it was only a matter of time til he had to face the music– and turns out it just had to be today.

MK sighed. The last thing he wanted was to go into Pigsy’s restaurant and announce that all of the years of hard work making sure MK got into the same good and fancy school as Mei was for nothing, and MK had completely thrown it away because of stupid anxieties. He was sixteen, man– he should be over this.

But at the same time, Pigsy would be upset if he was late for work too. It was a lose-lose situation; MK was destined to get a scolding, but the question would be if it was about being late or about making him break his back with extra hours of work for years for nothing.

MK sighed, a particularly large drop of rain landing on his head and dripping to his forehead, which he quickly brushed away. He didn’t have time for this. He just needed to get in there and start delivering so he could avoid conflict with Pigsy for as long as humanly possible.

Taking a deep breath, the kid walked in, quickly slumping his soaked backpack onto the back office countertop, only getting more annoyed when he noticed there was a hole in the side, meaning one of his expensive textbooks was probably damaged by the rain too.

He was just on a roll today, wasn’t he?

“Put on your game face, MK, just get through today,” He muttered to himself in the reflection of the computer screen, noticing how disheveled his hair looked and the heavy bags under his eyes. He practiced a wide grin two to three times before he dared emerge and make his presence known with a quick, "Hey Pigsy."

"There you are, kid. You're twenty minutes late," Pigsy looked at the clock while frying shrimp.

"Y-yeah, I know– the rain delayed the bus," He lied. "Any orders yet?"

“Just one I’m wrappin’ up now," His boss informed, so MK took a seat at the bar, his legs bouncing the second they were at rest.

The kid glanced around the restaurant and noticed the stool next to him was empty. "Where's Tang?"

"Sick. At some point he's gonna order his usual for delivery online, but he isn't gonna pay, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask ‘im anyways," Pigsy rubbed his forehead a little with a sigh.

Great, Pigsy was already having a bad day and MK was just going to make it worse. What fun.

“School okay?” Pigsy asked, adding the final touches to the bowl.

“S’whatever,” He mumbled, messing with a scratch on the counter.

“If you make that scratch worse you’re payin’ for repairs,” Pigsy smirked a little.

“I’m not making it worse,” He stuck his hands in his pockets, cursing the fact Pigsy had eyes on the back of his head.

His boss got back to work with a laugh, and MK just sat and waited until he was done cooking and bagging it all up.

However, when Pigsy actually saw MK he paused.

“You… uh… doin’ okay..?” He looked him up and down.

“Like I said, the rain delayed the bus, can I take the stupid order now?” He rolled his eyes.

Pigsy frowned. “If the bus got delayed then it might not be best–”

“Pigsy, I’ll be fine, okay? The order was already made anyway, so let’s just take the money and that’ll be that,” MK snapped, surprising himself and the chef.

The chef shook his head and sighed. “Fine– just be safe, will you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” MK rolled his eyes, snatching the bag and heading out, hearing Pigsy sigh right as he passed the bamboo flap.

Once he was out and by the dinky little excuse of a delivery cart, he cursed the fact that it didn’t have walls or doors, but he was the one who built it so that was also his fault. Well, at least there was a see through rain tarp thing– he just had to roll it down– and try to avoid the massive pool of water it collected, of which he completely forgot about this time and was soaked even worse in seconds.

What a fabulous day this was, truly.

Grumbling to himself, he placed the order next to him in the passenger seat, buckling it tight before pulling up the address on his phone and heading out.

Traffic was annoying and the wind and rain made it even more annoying, as the lack of doors made for a very cold, wet, and anxious MK. It also didn’t help that his windshield wipers were powered by mere thoughts and prayers, so did very little to clear his vision. At the very least he still had his headphones, but being soaked and practically blind canceled out any benefits they would’ve brought.

But it was still better than telling Pigsy he was getting expelled, so MK drove on.

He managed to deliver the noodles in fifteen minutes and received no tip, which was– whatever at this point. What was one more sign he was a total failure anyways?

When he got back in the cart, Pigsy had texted him saying two orders were waiting, and Mei texted asking to call, so he quickly dialed her number.

“Heyyyyyyyyyyy~ how goes my favorite delivery boy?” His friend sang out.

“I hate the rain,” MK muttered, waiting to be allowed out of his parking spot but car after car kept passing him.

“Aw, is Mr. Piggy still making you work with the weather like this?” Mei sympathized.

“No, I asked to. I don’t know why, I really hate this,” He sighed, seeing a chance and going for it– cringing when a car honked at him.

“You know, I told you getting a motorcycle would’ve been better but nooOOoo~ you need a cart,” She teased.

“Oh, please, this thing holds a lot more meals than any motorcycle could,” MK rolled his eyes and joined the main road.

“Motorcycle would get you there faster,” Mei pointed out smugly.

“Pigsy says those things are death traps, you know,” MK countered.

“And that dingy little cart isn’t?”

“I take offense to that.”

“I’m not wrong~”

“You know, if you wanted to call just so you could bully me, just take a number because I deal with that enough already,” MK huffed, checking his blind spot and switching lanes.

“Ugh, are those boys still being punks to you?” Mei voiced her disapproval.

MK snorted. “You thought they ever stopped?”

“Look, if you want me to beat them up, all you have to do is say the word.”

“Funny, but I’m in trouble enough as is,” MK rolled his eyes.

Just then his phone beeped and there was a call notification from Pigsy.

“What’s that sound?” Mei asked.

MK sighed. “Pigsy’s calling, though I don’t know why– unless the customer I just dropped off already called to complain, which is… ugh.”

“Oh, are you gonna pick it up?” His friend asked.

MK bit his cheek. “Nah, I’m not too far, it’ll be fine.”

“Oooooo~ boss man’s gonna be mad~” Mei teased again.

“Do you want me to hang up on you? Because I can,” MK smirked.

“No! Pleaseeeee don’t hang up– I don’t wanna do my homeworkkkkkk,” Mei groaned and her voice became muffled, probably from her slamming her face into a pillow.

“Yeah, well, at least your homework isn’t telling your d– boss you’ve made him waste thousands of dollars for some hoity-toity school that’s kicking you out before you can even finish your third year,” He complained, turning right and Pigsy’s icon disappeared.

“What? Why?”

MK internally face palmed.

In his stupidity, MK forgot Mei went to his school too and would obviously be stressed at the news of his imminent expulsion.

“Nothing, I–” MK tried waving off, when a truck kicked up a huge amount of water right in front of him, causing water to soak his feet and ankles right where the tarp didn’t reach the floor. “I hate the rain, did I tell you that?”

“MK, what do you mean they’re gonna kick you out? Isn’t there something you can do?” he heard Mei sit up.

MK sighed. “Look– I really don’t want to talk about it, okay? So either hang up or talk about something else.”

“... I can see if my parents can do something? Like– give the school some more money? Sweet talk teachers? Anything, really,” Mei offered.

“Not in the mood, Mei,” he warned, making a right turn.

“Right, right, okay,” His friend sighed, and he heard her flop back on her bed.

There was a bit of silence, in which Pigsy called again, but MK just ignored it.

“Jeez, he doesn’t normally call when you’re driving, does he?” Mei asked.

MK shrugged. “Not really, but he’s probably just being a worry wart because of the rain, or–”

MK’s eyes widened and his stomach sank.

“Or what?” Mei asked.

“I-I– um…” MK hit ‘decline’ on his phone. “Nothing, hopefully– I-I–”

“Shit, is he mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” MK glanced at his phone and saw a text from Pigsy he didn’t read.

“Maybe you’re right and he’s just worried; that sounds like him,” Mei suggested again, and MK shook his head.

“I’m not far from the restaurant, maybe if I’m quick I can just pick up the orders and be in-and-out of there,” MK tried to plan.

“You think he found out about the expulsion?” Mei asked the question he dreaded.

“He’s totally gonna kill me,” MK lamented, pulling up to a red light before slamming his head against the steering wheel.

“He’s not gonna kill you– yell at you, maybe, but Pigsy wouldn’t kill you,” Mei emphasized but all MK heard was “blah blah he’s gonna kill you blah”.

Eventually, MK was greeted by the familiar sights of the restaurant and pulled back into his parking spot, which was where he noticed Pigsy… smoking.

“I gotta go Mei,” MK said, heart and stomach full of dread.

“We can video chat later if you need, MK,” Mei offered.

“Yeah, I–… we’ll see,” MK chewed his cheek.

“Talk later?” Mei asked again.

“Yeah, talk to you later,” MK hesitated over the red button, but Mei hung up instead.

MK glanced back at his boss, who wasn’t looking at the cart at all, his eyes towards the road with a distant stare.

MK took a deep breath, put the vehicle into park, turned it off, and got out. “Pigsy–”

“What’re these absences about, MK?” His boss looked at him, already holding the letter in his hand.

“How did you find that?” MK tried to dodge.

“Backpack had a hole in it and I decided to inspect it to see if I could fix it. Now answer my question,” Pigsy huffed, eyes firm.

“I-I– I know it’s bad– I know–”

“MK, you’re such a smart kid– so much smarter than me. Why would you do this?” Pigsy interrupted.

“I-I didn’t mean to-! I just–... you know it’s hard waking up on time,” MK put his hands in his pockets and went under the little ramada to protect himself from the rain, though stayed as far away as possible from the chef.

“How do you ‘accidentally’ skip nine entire classes, MK?! These aren’t late marks, they’re absences,” Pigsy pointed out, before taking a step back and smoking more. “I– I don’t get it.”

MK winced. “I-I–”

“You begged me to go to this school, MK. I have poured thousands and thousands of yuan– I just– why?” Pigsy looked at him all heartbroken and confused.

“I-I know you did, D– Pigsy, a-and I know– I know it’s expensive, I-I just–” MK started rubbing his arms anxiously and glancing at the door to the restaurant.

“Then why, MK? Why are you skipping classes?” He pressed.

Because he was a stupid and dumb idiot coward who didn’t want to deal with a few mean looks and would rather make his poor guardian spend a stupid, stupid amount of money for classes he didn’t feel like going to, that’s why.

“I-I… I don’t know–”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Pigsy huffed.

“I– look, can I just deliver the orders to get this over with?” MK switched subjects, not waiting for permission before going inside.

“MK, you aren’t going anywhere until I get some answers for why I’m even paying for that school–!” Pigsy urged, following him in, cigarette still in hand.

“You know quitting smoking is supposed to be a permanent thing, right?” MK bit back, picking up the orders.

Pigsy stepped back, looking hurt by the low blow before he shook his head. “MK, this isn’t about me– it’s about you.”

MK tried not to care, using Pigsy’s somewhat fallen demeanor to get past him and back into the cart.

“MK–! Where on earth do you think you’re going?!” The chef fixed himself and followed him.

“To make my stupid deliveries and get out of your stupid hair!” MK shouted, struggling to turn the vehicle on when thunder suddenly boomed.

“MK, get back inside, we are not done talking about this,” Pigsy demanded.

“W-well I am! So– yeah!” MK got the ignition to start and shifted the gear into drive without buckling his seatbelt.

“MK!”

MK ignored him, barely looking before turning the vehicle out of his spot and turning onto the main road. Of course, he didn’t have the addresses plugged in so he’d have to do that while driving, which wasn’t smart and–

“MK– WATCH OUT–!” Pigsy shouted at the top of his lungs, and before MK could even turn to look, a car crashed into the side front of the cart, causing it to go airborne before landing on its side. Since MK wasn’t buckled in the slightest, he took the fall hard, hitting his head against the ground twice, and he cried out in pain as something hit his foot. He also had a sharp, sharp pain in his side, and was surrounded by broken glass and other fun rubble.

MK groaned at his stupidity and tried sitting up, but every inch of his body screamed that it was a bad idea. He tried just looking around, but his vision was fuzzy. He tried listening to his surroundings, but that was all muffled too– the shouting, the talking, the horns, the honking, the rainfall– all of it.

Great. Just great. Real smart, MK. Get yourself killed over skipping a few classes. Way to make Pigsy proud of you.

“MK?! MK–!” Pigsy’s voice broke above the ringing. MK tried to see where he was, but that was a mistake if there ever was one.

He heard shuffling and whispers and talking and shouting when a hand touched his shoulder, making him flinch– which made the rest of his body move and thus made him cry out in pain.

“Kid–! Oh, kid– you’re gonna be okay, o-okay? I-I’m right here– Didja hit your head–? What am I sayin’, of course you did– I won’t let you sleep, okay?” He heard his guardian say, and MK wanted to say something, but thinking just of words made him groan.

“I-I know kid, I know, it’s okay, I’m here for you kid,” Pigsy’s voice cracked– which was unusual. “Wh-where does it hurt? I-I know in your head, I know, I know, but where else, okay?”

MK tried very hard to concentrate, eventually sputtering out a, “P–pi–” before the pain in his side was too much and he instinctively curled himself a little tighter.

“Y-yeah, it’s me, I’m right here kid– where does it–” Pigsy gasped, apparently noticing something. He felt his guardian’s hands near where the pain was stemming, but they didn’t dare touch him, and after a beat, he called out, “S-someone– a-anyone– call 1-2-0– please-!”

There was more muffled talking but all MK could hear was the sound of his ill-tempered guardian sobbing openly.

He then felt a soft hand touch his soaking wet hair, stroking it somewhat as Pigsy whispered, “it’s okay MK, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay, it’s okay–” over and over and over again. MK tried saying anything to make his guardian feel better, but could only cough and cry and groan from the all consuming misery before sirens wailed.

He heard Pigsy tell the EMT’s things before there was organized counting and suddenly his right foot was freed– though obviously still hurt like a motherfucker. He was still in agony when they put him on a stretcher and took him inside an ambulance, but at least he could see Pigsy now, who sat next to him, still stroking his hair as lightly as physically possible.

“You’re okay, MK, you’re okay– I-I’m so sorry for yellin’ at you, I’m so sorry,” his guardian continued to cry, making MK just feel even worse somehow as they drove away from the scene.

When they got to the hospital, Pigsy was pulled away from him, which MK knew because his crying and protesting faded.

The second his guardian was out of earshot, MK’s tears went from pain to sadness.

Soon after, he was taken to a room, where he was given an oxygen mask and pumped full of drugs as doctors and nurses pulled out a massive glass shard that had been lodged into his side. After that, he was given stitches and a handful of weird pills before being taken in and out of rooms with all sorts of scanners and weird machines, all while he barely maintained consciousness.

After about three scans, MK was taken to an average and empty looking room, where he was given yet another handful of mysterious pills he didn’t question. He was hooked up to a heart and oxygen monitor, as well as a new IV and a few weird stickers they placed on his head before he was out like a light.

.o0o.

MK awoke feeling like his mouth was full of cotton, and the rest of his head was full of lead. His chest and sides felt numb from where he vaguely recalled there had been stitches, and his right foot was in a cast he didn’t remember getting.

As he slowly cracked open his eyes, MK was met with a hellish cold light that only added to the misery of the beeps and boops of the machines around him. But that soon didn’t matter at all, as MK saw his guardian pacing the foot of his bed, dark circles under his eyes that were still red and tear-stained from–

From him.

He had actually made Pigsy, the hot-headed chef of pure titanium, shed real tears over him that fell and everything.

It made MK cry too.

“P-P-Pigsy–” MK croaked, hot tears streaming down his face, making the chef stop in his tracks and rush to MK’s side, which was when MK noticed how bloodstained his chef's shirt and tank top were.

“Kid–! Oh I’m so glad you’re okay– I-I’m so sorry for yellin’ at you, okay? I-I was just– I don’t know what’s wrong with me– you feelin’ okay? You’re safe now, you’re at the hospital,” The chef stroked his cheek again and MK leaned into it this time since it didn’t hurt that much and he could.

“P-Pigsy, ‘m so s-s-sorry,” He cried, his whole chest shaking.

“No– no, MK, don’t be, it’s okay, I-I was so stupid– I should’ve handled it all differently– it’s not your fault, okay?” Pigsy wiped away his tears with calloused hands.

“I shouldn’ve skipped class, ‘m sorry,” the boy just continued to weep.

“I’m not mad MK, I promise I’m not– I-I’m so sorry,” Pigsy now held the boy’s face with both hands and MK was just overwhelmed by how warm they were and how he never wanted to leave his da– Pigsy’s embrace.

“M’sorry Pigsy– m’ so, so sorry,” He nuzzled Pigsy’s hands a little and the chef laughed weakly.

“You’re such a good kid, MK, I know you’re sorry, it’s okay, I’m not mad, I’m not,” The chef smiled warmly and wiped away some of the boy’s tears.

MK smiled weakly, though continued to cry, which Pigsy let him, which was… nice. It was so, so nice. It was so nice in fact, that it briefly made MK consider getting himself almost killed more often, but he’d never do that to Pigsy and Mei.

Unfortunately, the nice moment could only last a minute or two before a doctor suddenly came in. Both quickly wiped their faces and tried their best to pay attention to the medical mumbo jumbo.

It was a long winding conversation MK knew he should’ve paid attention to, but he was still absolutely exhausted and his head was filled with emotions and worries and aches and drugs– and also annoyance at the monitors and an obnoxiously loud AC unit.

At least Pigsy seemed to be taking note, nodding seriously and answering questions while MK was too busy looking at the shapes in the ceiling and a painting of a tree on the wall.

When the doctor left Pigsy sighed and wiped his face again, despite there being no tears to wipe away, but of course MK didn’t blame him and wouldn't dream of pointing it out.

“Kid, I-I’m–... I’m gonna ask you about the absences, is that okay?” The chef looked at him hesitantly.

MK sucked in a breath but nodded.

“So… I-I–... why? What’s going on..?” Pigsy looked at him for only a second before looking at the painting. “You’re so smart, MK. You don’t pull the same shit I used to do on the regular– and I keep trying to figure it out– a-and why you’d be so– so scared to tell me that you go out and nearly get yourself ki–...”

Pigsy choked on his words and clenched his eyes shut before desperately blinking away tears and taking a shaky breath.

“I just… a-am… Did I-I…? Are…?”

Pigsy took another breath.

“Are you… afraid of me?”

MK’s eyes widened. “N-no! No, never! I-I just– I– didn’t want to disappoint you, o-or let you know I’ve been wasting your money, which I know you work so, so hard for, a-and I don’t wanna seem ungrateful because I’m not! I-I’m so grateful, Pigsy– I-I–”

“Hey, hey, take it easy kid, it’s okay,” Pigsy looked relieved as he wiped away another one of MK’s tears.

“I-I’m just– I’m so sorry– e-even I don’t always know why I skip class. It's just– it’s like no matter what I do, I just can’t step in– but that’s only happened five times! The other times’re just because my trig teacher doesn’t let students be late, I swear! I-I don’t like wasting your money, Pigsy, I really, really don’t,” MK shook his head and covered his face, which made Pigsy pull him into a nice and warm side hug.

“What do you mean you ‘can’t step in’?” He asked softly.

MK shrugged weakly, leaning into the embrace a little more. “I-I don’t know… Sometimes it just– it feels like I can’t– like there’s a wall and if I pass it I’ll like… die or something. I know it sounds stupid, I know b-but– yeah…” he looked away in shame.

“Classmates bein’ dicks too?” His guardian guessed.

MK hesitated, but nodded.

“It’s okay kid, I know a thing or two about teachers n’ classmates bein’ dicks,” He rubbed MK’s arm and rested his head carefully atop his. “You’re a good kid, MK. You’re so grateful too– it’s almost concernin’ for a kid your age to be so aware,” his guardian tried to joke, but MK could hear the sadness.

“Still… m’sorry,” MK sniffled.

“Ah, it’s okay, kid, we’ll get this sorted out; I’ll send an email to that principal askin’ to switch trig teachers or somethin’, or try to deal with any punk kids– see if there’s a deal we can work out,” Pigsy chuckled tiredly.

MK nodded, but didn’t dare move from his guardian’s warm and protective embrace. To his relief, the chef didn’t seem keen on breaking it up either.

But after a while, MK couldn’t help but ask, “A-are you… disappointed in me?”

“What? ‘Course not, kid– if anything I’m disappointed in m–that– uh– that staff at your school. I pay ‘em how much a year and they don’t even take proper attendance? What a joke,” Pigsy forced a laugh.

MK looked down at his hospital blanket. “I-I was just– I was so scared you’d hate me o-or something and I-I just–”

Pigsy straightened up and forced MK to look at him and his deep, soft eyes.

“MK, you’ll always have your ol’ Pigsy, alright? I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

MK nodded hesitantly and his guardian hugged him once again.

“Good… because– because I really mean it, there’s nothing you could do to make me hate or leave you.”

MK laughed weakly. “I know, Pigsy, I know.”

“Good,” Pigsy laughed a little too, squeezing him a little tighter before slowly letting go and fixing up the boy’s appearance– or what could be fixed of it anyways. “Are you feelin’ any better, kid? I know I should’ve asked that before but–”

“Yeah, much better,” MK chuckled, before a thought came to mind. “Is– um… Is my phone still in one piece? And do you have it? I think Mei probably thinks I’m dead so I should probably text her.”

“Oh, right, yeah– you kids and your phones,” Pigsy joked, fishing it out of his pocket and handing it to the teen, who instantly opened it and saw a myriad of texts from Mei.

4:15 You talk to Pigsy yet? 4:17: I’m going to take your silence as a no 4:20: Are you done yet? 4:22: MKKKKK are you doneeeeeee? 4:45: MK you’re making me actually consider doing my homework plz respond 😩 4:50: Did he kill you? If he did sorry I instilled false hope. In my defense, you didn’t seem like you believed it. 4:52: Okay I’m concerned fr fr– text meeeeeee 4:56: Damn you two must either be having a heart-to-heart or he’s ending your whole career– if so BIG oof 4:56: Praying for you 🙏 5:00: You done yet? 5:02: Is your phone on silent bc damn you aren’t even reading these– and here I thought we were friends smh 😔😔😔💔💔💔 5:13: DUDE there was a crash outside Pigsys Noodles! Did you see it?!! Call me!!!!! 5:15: MK WERE YOU THE GUY WHO CRASHED TEXT ME RIGHT NOW 5:16: MK you better be alive or so help me buddha I will motorcycle to your apartment so fast and kill you myself 5:17: OKAY i didn’t mean that, plz be alive I’ll be so nice if you’re alive 5:20: MKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK 5:25: Call me as soon as you can, okay? I’m worried over here 9:37: My parents took my phone but gave it back now bc I did my homework but you didn’t call so ig we can both be mad at each other 10:42: If this is revenge for Kim, you’re gay and that was middle school, I thought you got over that 11:01: /j 11:04: /lh /ily 💚 2:42: I really, really hope you’re okay… 💚💚💚

“Yeesh, you kids really do text a lot,” Pigsy eyed all the messages.

“It’s how she shows love,” MK laughed a little, and shot a quick text:

4:01 “Not dead 👍 in hospital”

He waited only two seconds before his phone flooded with more texts from his friend, none of which he read, just typing:

4:02 “Go to bed. I’ll call when I have the energy. Ily 💛”

The barrage stopped, and Mei sent back:

4:02 “Fineeeeeeeee, ily2 or whatever 🙄💚”

MK hearted the message and chuckled.

“You two need better sleep schedules,” Pigsy pointed out, shaking his head.

“Bah, I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” MK repeated one of his guardian’s favorite mantras.

“Har-har, I see how it is,” The pig demon rolled his eyes and MK laughed.

“Had to,” He grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Pigsy ruffled his hair lightly before fixing it again.

MK chuckled. “How’s Tang doing? You call him at all?”

Pigsy half-shrugged. “Yeah– he was real bummed about not getting his noodles, but I talked sense into ‘im eventually,” the demon snorted. “He hopes you’re okay and get better soon.”

“Good, good,” MK nodded to himself, before glancing at his boss. “You– uh– gonna check up on him soon..?”

Pigsy laughed. “That big baby just has a cold, he’ll be fine if I stick around with you,” he assured him, though raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh well– um–” MK didn’t know how to respond. “I don’t know– I’m just– I’m glad you’re here, Pigsy,” he smiled weakly.

“I’m glad I’m here too, kid– I… I care a lot about you, you know that?” the chef asked nervously.

MK nodded with a weak smile. “Yeah, I know.”

Pigsy smiled with a soft hum, before he suddenly wrapped MK in another side hug and MK snuggled back up to him as best he could.

He knew it was stupid, that Pigsy was just his boss, but moments like these made MK feel like maybe in a different universe, Pigsy could be his dad, and that he’d stroke his hair and call him “son” and instead of saying “I care about you”, they could say “I love you”.

But that wasn’t what they had– MK was just his “ward” and employee, and Pigsy was just his legal guardian and boss, nothing more, nothing less.

But for now, MK could pretend and just be happy feeling safe and warm in his guardian’s arms without a care in the world– and a part of him could think that maybe– just maybe– Pigsy felt the exact same way…

Well, it was a nice fantasy no matter what, and he’d be fast asleep in the matter of minutes, snug as a bug in a rug in his guardian’s arms, feeling as though everything was right with the world for once in his chaotic young life.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #dadsy #whumptober 2023 #pigsy lmk #mk lmk #my fics #we stan one (1) pig dad #he's trying his best dammit #precanon #angst #angst with a happy ending #tw car crash #tw hospitals #uhhhhhhh #anyways stan dadsy #that's an order #he tries his best #but like #tho the emotional disconnect will always make emo #GOD #when will they allow themselves to be father and son smh #i need it now

[mae-gi-writes]

blurred lines (1) || k. tsukishima

You have more than 99 problems in this world, and your student Tsukishima Kei is one of them.

Genre: fluff, teacher! fem. reader x student! Tsukishima

A/N: Hey gaiiis <3 been thinking of Tsukishima for a few days. Just wanna say that I do not encourage relationships between students and teachers, and that if you're uncomfortable with that trope, please don't read it. Just want to note that Tsukishima is 18 yrs in this and the teacher is definitely on the young side so relationships like these are definitely not impossible.

Enjoyy!!! <3

ONE | TWO

--------- Part 1 ---------

He's flirting with you.

You know he is.

It's all in those under-lidded stares that he sends your way when he thinks you're not looking. It makes your skin prickle with a sensation akin to uncomfortable and yet, you're not sure yourself why you keep on blatantly ignoring it in favour of keeping up a facade for the whole class, the entire school.

It's more than a normal occurrence for students to hit on teachers, especially the young ones who they think they have a chance with. The truth is, you're aware of the level of professionalism you must keep up in order for this to be smooth sailing, but it really isn't your fault that your tender age of twenty-five makes you so much more approachable to those who are on the brink of eighteen.

"Honestly miss Y/N, you could wear our uniform and we'd probably look the same."

"I think she'd look even younger than us. Maybe sixteen?"

It is in those moments, really, that you curse your good genes. You've had this problem, showing your ID to the bartender so that he gets to double-check a potential fraud and getting a free pass on the bus for being excused as a high school kid. That never bothered you so much before.

Until now.

"Like I said, the Inter-High Volleyball Tournament will be starting in two weeks so I really want you all to come and cheer for our school, even if that means on TV," you are telling your homeroom class, half of them barely awake at eight in the morning.

You tap your pen against the table for attention, and heads sleepily look up from the depths of their desks. Or arms.

"Wakey wakey, guys. Did you hear anything I said?" you ask with a raised brow.

One of your students yawns, "yes sensei."

"Can we go and see the match?" another asks.

"You totally can," You flash a grin, "the schedule is on the notice board outside of class with all the timings and dates. I think we have three or four matches in our school. And the rest will be outside of school."

"Do you think they'll win this year, Sensei?" the one sitting at the front asks you.

"I really hope so. They've been training harder, right?" You take a look at your entire class, "aren't there any of you boys playing-- Ah, Tsukishima-kun. You're on the volleyball team. How is that going?"

Gold eyes over rimmed glasses peer up at you from the back of the class. The tall, lanky boy sits up with a face that suggests you've just disturbed him. Or disgusted him. Or both, who knows?

"Fine."

His answer is curt. But you're not fazed.

"When's your first match?" You lean forward on your desk and cross your arms, "are you playing first set?"

"Why sensei ? You gonna show up?"

"I sure will."

His smirk drops for a second. But you press on still, "so? Are you playing first set or not?"

"Y/N Sensei! I'm playing!" One of the shorter students who always manages to place a smile on your face, jumps up from his seat, "you'll cheer for me, right Sensei?!"

"Yes, Hinata. I will," you can't help but grin as he whoops and punches the air in victory, a real man-child who still loves dreaming about the big stuff.

From the back row, you hear a snort only to see Taukishima lean back on his chair until he teeters in mid-air, "it's just a volleyball game."

"It's not just a volleyball game." Hinata retorts, scowling at the blonde.

"Fancy words coming from our most famous bencher."

"I'm not a bencher! I--I got put in first set this time!"

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, "congratulations."

"Tsukishima-kun," you cut the blonde off with a stern look, "that's enough."

You think he has half a mind to retort back with a witty insult. But his eyes lock on yours for a long moment, before he rolls them and slumps back in his seat. You would've sighed in relief, but there had been something in his eyes, something you can't quite place.

Your first year as a homeroom teacher is tough. From dealing with kids skipping classes and others doing drugs in the bathroom during lunch breaks, you barely have time to sit down at work.

You go watch Karasuno's game as promised, and coach Ukai greets you with surprising enthusiasm as he ushers you up on the court.

"I don't think I should be here," you stutter, eyes quickly flitting around and flinching at how huge the volleyball players are. Are these really high schoolers?

"Nonsense! I think the boys would be happy to see you! Specially the third-years," he grins at you, "you're their homeroom teacher, aren't you?"

You nod meekly, "i'm new though. I just joined this semester."

"Oh, you're the one replacing Hikari-san?"

"Yes."

"Ah great! We needed some fresh blood in the Arts Department--"

"SENSEI! YOU CAME!" Hinata practically bounds towards you like a stray dog ready to be petted, "I'm going to play so well tonight! Honestly, you need to look out for my killer spikes! I've trained so hard for it--"

"Shut up, Hinata-boke," Karasuno's ace setter, Kageyama, snaps at the ginger. He then gives you a little bow in greeting, "morning, sensei."

"You shut up! Who do you think you are? I was talking to sensei--"

"I said SHUT UP!"

"YOU SHUT UP--"

"Sorry about that," a familiar alto reaches your ears and you turn, stumbling back a little upon seeing Tsukishima behind you, "they hate each other's guts."

"I see that," you dquint up at him, "you didn't grow over the one day I didn't see you, right?"

He smirks, "who knows?"

You swat his shoulder playfully, "I don't think you'd be so cocky if you knew about your semester grades."

"I'm always in the top percentile."

"Not this time, Tsukishima-kun. Tell me," you throw him a sidelong glance, "is it volleyball that's distracting you? Or..." your voice lowers dramatically, "are you actually going out with someone?"

You relish in the way heat spreads over his face, though he decides that staying quiet is the best option, mumbling that he'll come by your office to figure out what went wrong.

And he might be a sarcastic, snobby young man. But you know that deep inside -- and from poring over Tsukishima's stufent records -- that he's had some issues with his older brother.

Surprisingly, he keeps his promise, practically rolls into at the teacher's office as soon as the bell rings for lunch.

"Y/N sensei, I think he's looking for you," one of your colleagues call you out, to which you quickly scramble to usher in the said tall blonde.

He takes a seat next to your desk and you can't help but notice that it's too small for him as you pull up his school record and his student documents.

"Right," you click on his name and his file pops up, a staggering line of beautiful As and A stars, "well, you've been pretty consistent since first-year, which is good because universities are bound to look out for your entire college history."

He makes a sound of acknowledgment, folds his too-long legs and adjusts his headphones.

"However, as from this year, you've dropped from the 90th percentile into the 75th in most subjects," you spare him a glance, but his eyes are fixed on the monitor before you, "do you see that?"

He nods. Good. So at least he's aware and he's not arguing. A good start.

"Okay," leaning back into your chair and swivelling to face him, you lean forward and allow yourself to read his features.

Then, in the most gentle voice possible, you ask:

"Are you okay, Tsukishima-kun?"

He doesn't answer. Not instantly, anyway. You notice his hand picking at the skin off his palm and wish to grab it, pry his fingers open. A nervous tick of his, surely.

There must be something else, something that's going on.

"Look," you try once more, "I'm not going to ask you what it is that is going on. That's your private matter. But if it's affecting your grades, that's not a good thing, especially someone who easily kept them up throughout those three years."

You search his eyes in hopes of finding something there, but his gaze is glued onto the wooden surface of your tabletop. Behind you is the usual cacophony of teachers arguing, gossiping, anything really. But you pay no mind, eyes solely focused on the blonde before you.

"I just want you to know that you can talk to me, as cliché as that sounds," you continue in a gentle murmur, "if there's anything I can do, I will. Okay?"

A pause. Then, his head dips into a single nod.

"Okay," you smile, "see you then, Tsukishima-kun."

You turn back towards your desk as the said young man stands and strides past your desk, and you would've missed the silent gratefulness in his eyes if you hadn't turned back just in time to find him already watching you.

"Sensei."

"Yes?"

He hesitates, before saying, "thanks."

You swear something in your heart flutters as you smile back at him, "pleasure."

----

It doesn't occur to you that Tsukishima is a man. Not when you're surrounded by a horde of manchildren every day of the week and plus, teachers have boundaries. You're one to follow them to the letter.

So it takes you by surprise one day, during the annual volleyball camp where you'd volunteered, when he acts like one.

It's nine in the evening on the second day of camp, and it becomes increasingly clear from the amount of work around the volleyball court that you're not about to go to bed anytime soon. You hear Ukai's voice fill the empty space when he calls out your name, looking up just in time to be greeted with his grin and a takeaway box of food.

(Not that you'd volunteered just because free food was in the deal. Not at all)

"Hey," he says as he reaches your side, "you missed dinner."

"Yeah sorry, got caught up trying to clean this mess," you gesture to the sea of volleyballs littering the court.

Ukai grimaces, "they're the ones who are supposed to do that. Come on, I'll give them a good scream and a few push-ups."

"I think they're all knocked out anyway," you chucklec "it's alright. I'm almost done--"

"No no, hold on and take this," he thrusts the takeaway box in your hands before you can protest jogs away with a yell, "gimme a sec and they'll come to you!"

You laugh, "thanks for the food!"

Returning back to the chore at hand, you sigh and with renewed energy to keep going, you crouch down to pick up two balls at once. The quicker you're done with this, the quicker you'll get to your mattress laid down for female managers and teachers respectively. It sounds glorious when you think about it now.

"Need help?"

Yelping in shock, you lose balance and topple onto your butt. You look up to see Tsukishima, ball in hand, looking like he just got out of the shower.

Soft blonde tendrils curl over his forehead, still wet and spiky, towel thrown carelessly over his shoulders.

You straighten up, a slight scowl on your face, "Ukai told you to come over?"

"No," he tilts his head as he extends a hand to help you up. You take it gratefully, "I heard someone talking to themselves. Turns out it was you."

"I knew it was too true. Tsukishima-kun would never help out on his own," you hate the fact that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. Your hand still feels warm from his touch, "so, what's up with you roaming around in the dark?"

He has the decency to flush slightly, "I was showering."

"Oh were you now? Not secretly meeting up with anyone in the dark?" You tease as you resume picking up balls. After a bout of hesitation, Tsukishima follows, "you know you can tell me right? I was your age once."

"No offense sensei, but you look the same age as us," he throws ball after ball into the metal basket with effortless grace, "and no, I'm not meeting anyone after dark."

"Well I'm still older than you," you scowl, "and you should! Why not? This is the prime time for you to explore what love is."

"Barely older," he retorts, "also, weren't you the one telling me that I should be focusing on my grades?"

"Yeah but I mean, you're not right? That's not what's causing your grades to slip."

He scowls behind his glasses, "I don't need a reminder of that, sensei."

"Ah come on, lighten up a little! You know, when I was your age--"

He interrupts you with a snort. But you continue on:

"--when I was your age, I remember failing my mocks because I was too invested in making money."

"You worked?"

"As a waitress. Used to clean tables and get screamed at. But it was worth the money, considering my financial situation," a sad smile etches across your lips at the thought as you continue picking your way through the balls, "my family wasn't well off. It was a tough time."

There's silence while you finish stacking all balls into the metal cart, and you realize that maybe you've gone too far.

You try to quickly remedy the situation with a joke, "but all's well that ends well. That was a long time ago. So when I say I understand you, I mean it-- Whoa hold up!" You blink, "you can actually hold a ball with one hand?!"

He cocks an eyebrow at you, turning the ball in his hand with ease, "you're the one with tiny hands, sensei."

"I do not!" You protest by holding your hand out against the light of the gym court, "they're normal sized. You're the one with giant monster hands."

Tsukishima holds his hand out beside yours, which makes difference is even clearer.

"Damn, what did you eat to get so big?" You ask.

"Didn't eat."

"Liar," tilting your head up, you're struck by seeing his chin, his face closer than you would've liked.

Not that you're planning to.

If you tilt your head further back, you can lean onto his chest.

Voices suddenly echo through the gymnasium and you jump away from Tsukishima, face suddenly warming up at how close you actually were as Hinata and Kageyama appear in your field of vision. But it's okay, because they're distracted by their bickering as usual and barely assess what had just happened, allowing you to murmur out an excuse and slip away unnoticed.

His eyes find yours, and your breath suddenly stills.

It doesn't stop there. On the contrary, the moments just seem to double two-fold, especially when you're trying really hard to avoid him.

Like when you have a load of paperwork to carry from your class to your office desk, practically wobbling about on your heels until suddenly the pile is lifted out of your arms only to give way to a grumbling Tsukishima, already leading the way down the corridor.

Or when you're on duty and watching over the kids in the playground. He'd somehow pop up next to you, exchanging conversations about anything and everything.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company, Tsukishima-kun. But don't you want to talk to your friends during breaktime?" You glance down at the unopened juice box in his hand, "is that all you're having?"

He scowls, proceeding to open it up anyway as if he's being forced to do so, "I'm supposed to be training."

"Volleyball? Why aren't you then?"

"I needed a break."

There's a pause. The slightest hint that maybe something might be wrong with that sentence.

"Is volleyball not something you enjoy?" You ask gently.

He takes a moment, honey-eyed gaze overlooking the football field as he leans back against the building wall, "I'm not sure. Why do I have to put so much effort in a hobby?" He shrugs half-heartedly, `it's just volleyball."

"Well, if it makes you happy, why shouldn't you?"

Surprised, his eyes flick to yours and once again you're struck by the intensity of his stare.

You look away, decide to focus your gaze on a bunch of boys laughing at each other instead, "do you like Volleyball, Tsukishima-kun?"

He bristles. Takes another pause.

"I don't know."

A smile dances across your lips then, "maybe you should start with asking yourself that question."

You know, in the depths of your heart, that you shouldn't be engaging in such conversations with one of your top students. Tsukishima is bright, always on top of his grades despite his small slip at the beginning of the year. He can go far, can reach far, if he wants to.

But you don't want him to regret his choices. You don't want him to go down a path just because society said so.

A few days after your conversation finds you deep in administrative work at your desk, where Tsukishima finds you on the brink of a breakdown.

"Oh, hey Tsukishima-kun," you hope he doesn't notice the blue aprons underneath your eyes.

Rubbing your face and taking a deep breath, you try for a smile when you look up at him, "what's up?"

He presses his lips together, eyes glancing back and forth as if to make sure the office is devoid of people.

You gesture towards the chair, "why don't you sit down?"

He does and you continue, "anything you need? Wouldn't expect you to still be around at--" you sneak a peak at your watch, "--five in the evening on a Friday."

"I could say the same for you."

Grinning, you hold up your to-do list for him to see, "as you can see, I have quite an extensive list of things to do so. And you?"

He waits a moment, "can I...talk to you?"

"Oh," you straighten instantly, sympathy filling you at how lost he seems to be, "sure, yeah. What's on your mind?"

Tsukishima picks at his finger pads, probably nervous since he's not one to talk about his feelings to anyone. To say that you're glad he's opening up to you is an understatement.

When he speaks next, his voice is rough, filled with an emotion you can't quite place.

"My brother was a volleyball player."

You blink, "really?"

His head dips into a nod, "I...I always admired him, when I was younger."

You don't think you've ever heard Tsukishima speak for so long and yet, as he told you how his disappointment in his brother's lies influenced his outlook on volleyball, how he thought it was stupid for one to even place such importance on a sport that barely did anything for him, you can't help but catch a glimpse of the frail, self-conscious child trapped in a young man's body, still confused and still hurt by the happenings of his past.

The silence that prevails once he's done is heavy, laden with the thick coat of unease and awkwardness that causes your heart to squeeze painfully.

It's like a trigger.

A trigger you've pulled.

You bite down onto your lower lip and lean your arms onto your desk, towards the said blonde, as you speak softly, "what is it that you want to tell me, Tsukishima-kun?"

You might have imagined the way he leans into your touch, just a little.

Because as soon as these words leave your mouth, his head turns away from you as silent tears cascade down his cheeks in silvery hot trails. A mixture of shock and hurt jolts you forward to grab a tissue, hold it out to him in a silent gesture of comfort.

He takes it, tears now barely concealed as his shoulders jump up and down with emotion, taking off his glasses to cry into his palms. The weight finally falls and Tsukishima crumbles underneath its heaviness and, as sympathy slowly engulfs your chest and causes tears to prick the back of your eyes, your hand reaches out to his shoulder.

His bluntness stings the air. There's so much anger, so much resentment in such a simple sentence. It makes your jaw clench. Something squeezes in your heart.

"I don't want to be like him."

"You're not your brother," you're quick to interrupt firmly, willing him to look into your eyes. He does after a moment, when your words finally catch his attention, "You're not him, and your love for volleyball has nothing to do with you being like your brother. You two are two different people. But that's not the point here, is it?"

"Tsukishima-kun," you murmur out as your hand smoothes over his shoulder, "I --"

His eyes searches your gaze and you almost forget to breathe because god damn, Tsukishima's eyes are even more mesmerizing when they're glistening like fresh teardrops.

Tsukishima continues, finally breaking through whatever shell that had been keeping him chained up inside his own mind, "I don't want to end up so disappointed that I waste my life. I don't want to be him. I don't want to love volleyball like he did, and--"

"What's important to ask yourself is whether you love volleyball or not. Isn't it?"

He wipes his cheek with the back of his hand. He sniffles, then blows his nose into the tissue you gave him.

"I love volleyball."

Those words trigger affection in you, and you can't help but break into a smile at how genuine he sounds.

"Then that should be enough for now, right?" you say.

"Right," he croaks.

It takes him a little more time to calm down and you sit by his side through it all, gently rubbing up and down his shoulder while whispering words of comfort.

"You'll be okay," you tell him with tenderness lacing your tone, "you don't have to figure it out right now."

"I know," he sniffles, before a sigh escapes his lips. Though his eyes are red-rimmed, it seems as though he's finally relieved himself of the things that were worrying him.

"Do you want something to drink? I'll get you some tea," you make a move to stand from your chair, only for a hand to grasp your wrist.

You look back at Tsukishima, who doesn't look at you as he rasps out, "wait."

Your body halts, air catching in your throat.

Silence. Then, a small tug.

You stumble, until you feel his temple press against your side. Heat spreads through the back of your neck like wildfire.

You don't dare breathe. You don't dare move.

If one was to see the two of you, you'd be treading in hot, boiling water.

Tsukishima's breaths are warm as they fan against your arm and his grip merely tightens, as if hoping you won't pull away and take that moment of selfishness from him.

But you know that fighting would be futile. Not when he's so tormented and practically battling against himself. If there's one moment where you can step out of being a teacher and acting as a normal human being would, it's right now.

So you allow your arm, the one he's gripping, to slide out of his hold. Then, you gently rest your hand along the back of his head, smoothing over his blonde strands and marveling at how soft it feels under your touch.

"You'll be okay," you keep on repeating it like a mantra, "you'll be okay. I promise."

----

He avoids you like the plague after that.

And though you should've guessed this would happen, it still stings to think that his first reaction is to scamper away from the one person whom he'd allowed himself to be vulnerable with.

Oh you catch glimpses of him in homeroom. Most of the time, he's either asleep or not present at all, getting into the habit of coming late maybe to skip seeing your face altogether. It hurts more than you'd like to admit; the fact that Tsukishima is too ashamed to even look at you in the face.

You know you did nothing wrong (apart from maybe accepting his touch) but why does this feel so wrong to you?

"Y/n sensei?"

You jolt out of your bubble, surprised to find coach Ukai gazing down at you with amusement.

"What's up, sensei? You lookin' a little green."

"I'm alright," you swallow thickly, before trying for a smile, "and you?"

His smile drifts away, "did something happen?"

"No, just--"

"Student problems?"

Pressing your lips together, you briefly debate whether to ask him about the said young man running through your mind.

“Tsukishima-kun,” you start off quietly, “he’s been acting really off these days so I couldn’t help but wonder if he’s okay. He’s also in my homeroom class but you know how he is,” you try to laugh it off, “he’s not one to talk about his feelings.”

“You’re right,” Ukai hums, “he’s built like a brick wall, that one.”

You let out a small chuckle, “so you don’t know what’s going on either?”

“Not that I can think of, unfortunately,” Ukai peers down at you with a raised eyebrow, “though…he’s not one to be impulsive. Maybe you should ask him directly. He might talk to you. You’re his homeroom teacher after all.”

Ukai’s right. You do have that authority. And you intend to use it.

It’s a few days right after the last lesson for the day that you manage to corner the tall blonde right in the middle of practice just as he’s coming out of the changing rooms. He’s just as surprised to see you, blinking down at your face as a small frown settles between his eyebrows.

“Sensei?”

“Hey, Tsukishima-kun,” you offer him a small smile, what you hope is a gesture of friendliness, “can we have a chat?”

It takes a moment before he nods, and proceeds to follow you outside the gymnasium as a trickle of first-years run past in a flurry of excited voices. You round the corner, find a private spot where you can lean against the wall. Tsukishima copies your movements and you’re all too aware of his hot, searing gaze intent on your face. He has a way of looking, with those honeydew eyes of his, that makes your skin prickle, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in alert.

“What is it, sensei?” He asks after a long bout of silence in which you’re still trying to contemplate what to say. If there’s anything to say.

Biting down on your lip as you try and organize your thoughts, you start off by asking, “how have you been?’

He’s stiff. You can see it in his muscles, in the tension in his jaw.

“Fine.”

Fine. Just fine.

You shuffle from one foot to the other, “I was just asking since…you know, it’s been a rough couple of days for you and—“

“I’m fine, sensei.”

He cuts you off with such icy coldness it makes you flinch, and for a second, remorse flashes across his face, before it settles back into a nonchalant stare.

“Alright,” you manage to clench your jaw in hopes that your lips wouldn’t tremble from the sudden sting of tears at the corner of your eyes, before nodding and pushing yourself off the wall, “alright then. Have a good day, Tsukishima-kun.”

Turning your head back to Tsukishima, you don’t dare meet his eye for fear of what you might see there.

So you stride off without looking back, not at all ready for the hand that catches the back of your elbow and makes you stumble back.

“Please,” your voice shakes with emotion, “let go of me.”

You were all too aware of how people like Tsukishima worked; they bite when they don’t mean to, just like angry dogs abandoned by their owners, and you know that talking to him when he’s still feeling so humiliated will do more harm than gone.

He does as told, even takes a step back as if to give you space. That’s when you turn to face him fully.

“Yes?”

It’s him that’s biting his lower lip this time, looking away as a hand comes up to scratch the back of his head. Gone is the sourly-faced Tsukishima and in his place, is a tall kid embarrassed by his earlier behavior. It almost looks like he’s getting ready for a scolding.

“Sorry sensei,” he takes a breath, “I…didn’t mean that.”

“Good. As you should.”

Another pause where you don’t quite know what to say, and him neither it seems.

When you speak next, your tone is softer, “and how have you really been?”

Tsukishima needs time, and you find that out when slowly, but surely, he starts answering your questions with more elaborate responses. You prod, and he gives, and the more you do, the more comfortable he seems to become with opening up to you; he tells you about how your conversation has got him thinking about what he wishes to do in life, about how it’s impossible to look at his brother in the face after every volleyball practice, about how he wishes he didn’t even like volleyball in the first place and when you laugh, he flushes red and mutters that talking to you is just another form of embarrassment.

“I’m your sensei,” you keep on chuckling, “of course I want to know these things. What would I be here for, otherwise?”

He mumbles something too soft for you to hear and you grin, cocking your head to the side, “what was that?”

“You don’t feel like it.”

You blink, “feel like what?”

Honey-gold eyes lock on yours.

“You don’t feel like a sensei.”

The words struggle to make sense in your head.

And then…it clicks.

“Oh,” your face suddenly feels incredibly hot and uncomfortable and— had someone turned on the heat? “Uhm…I mean, that’s a—uhm…”

He doesn’t respond, though he doesn’t need to.The silence, the way his eyes search your face…suddenly, everything is speaking volumes. Every action, every single word is amplified with a multitude of unspoken possibilities.

This is not right, your mind chimes, this is not right at all.

And yet, your heart starts beating faster. So much so that your eyes drop to the ground and away from the said blonde in question.

You're too wrapped up in your own head that you jump as he steps forward, backs you into the wall and making it imppssible not to comply.

"I--" the words get stuck in the back of your throat, "Tsukishima-kun, you shouldn't--we shouldn't--"

But your words dissolve atop your tongue as soon as your eyes find his, and in his orbs you feel the jaggered emotion that rests there, the intensity of that sudden desire that makes you giddy and terrified at the same time. Without warning, his hand reaches out and, with just a beat of hesitation, curls a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

This action sends your heart sky-rocketing to the moon. You can’t breathe, for fear that doing so would make someone catch you out.

“Tsukishima-kun,” your voice, which you’d hoped would come out as warning, is merely a soft, broken murmur of stuttered words. “That’s—you can’t—do that.”

He stays quiet, still eyeing you like you’re the pivotal axis around which revolves his entire universe.

“OI TSUKISHIMA—Oh! Y/N Sensei?”

A yelp tangles at the back of your throat the moment you stagger to the side, away from the said young man as your eyes find Yamaguchi’s confused ones, “Tsukishima-kun was just—uhm— he was helping me! Fix my hair! Right?”

You throw the blonde a look, but he just keeps on gazing down at you wordlessly as you force out a laugh, “a—anyway, I was just talking about Tsukishima’s university applications. But I’ll be off—right now actually! See you tomorrow!”

And you dash away without looking back, and willing to ignore the way your heart and your mind seem to replay that earlier moment again and again like a broken video record.

——————

What is this? What is going on here?

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Kuroo breaks you out of your bubble by sticking a cool beer can by your cheek. You yelp, slapping his shoulder in response before realizing that you’ve been mumbling to yourself out loud for the past fifteen minutes of arriving at Kuroo’s doorstep.

He’d taken one look at your face and knew that there was something not quite right about the way your cheeks flushed, or the way you kept avoiding eye contact and shuffling your feet like a child ready to be scolded for something you knew hadn’t been right.

“You need to tell me what’s going on,” Kuroo cracks open his own beer, chugging one large gulp and sighing in relief as he falls back onto the couch, “for me to know how I can help out.”

You sip on your own beer, still distracted by the memory of Tskushima’s fingers against your cheekbone, playing with your hair.

“Hello?” Kuroo’s knee nudges yours, “earth to Y/N? Or did you lose yourself on the way?”

He realizes you’re not chuckling at his lame joke as you usually would. Sitting up and taking a better look at your face, he prods you once more, “hey c’mon. Just tell me. What happened? What’s got you so upset?”

“I’m not upset,” you mumble.

“Oh finally,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “she speaks.”

“It’s just—“ your teeth settle upon your bottom lip, nibbling as you continue, “you know Tsukishima Kei right? You remember you told me you played against him last year?”

“Yeah?” He drags the word out expectantly, “and?”

You recount him the summary of the story, leaving out the part where you thought your heart was about to burst out of your chest and how flustered you were afterwards that you’d found refuge in the women’s staff bathroom, a hand on your chest and the other atop your cheek.

Kuroo’s eyes are wide by the time you’re done. He gapes at you like you’ve just grown another pair of eyes and the attention is irritating.

“What?” You snap, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“Wait—you’re talking about Tsukishima…the blonde dude with glasses?”

“The very one.”

“You mean to say—hold on, let me rephrase this correctly,” he sounds like he’s having so much fun you wish to bash his head in with the beer can in your hand. You decide to sip on your drink instead, “you’re saying that Tsukishima Kei, the guy who’s always scowling and hates socializing with people, actually likes you?”

“I think he likes me,” you correct him, “there’s a difference.”

“Oh shit,” and you watch in horror as a grin splits across your cousin’s face, “nooo shit. Tsukishima, crushing on you.”

“You’re not helping, Kuroo.”

“Sorry,” he shakes his head, “it’s just—Tsukishima. God. I never thought he’d be the one. So? Do you like him back?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Oh,” Surprise spreads over Kuroo’s features as he takes in yours, “you like him too, don’t you?”

“I--No, I mean--"

"You do."

"I--"

Kuroo bursts out laughing in your face as embarrassment flames up through your face and suddenly, the room gets a little hotter with every passing second.

"This isn't funny," you scowl, "this is wrong in every way possible--"

"And yet..." Kuroo throwa you a pointed look, "you're not completely against the idea. Or am I wrong here?"

His question stabs you right in the chest as the reality, the dangerous territory suddenly starts to seep into you. You can get arrestes for encouraging this kind act, even go to jail if things get out of hand.

Kuroo probably notices the sudden silence on your end, for he leans over to give your shoulder a little pat, "hey, don't worry. Just ignore him if you think that's best for you."

"It's not that easy," you mutter into your beer, "I care about him, but I obviously can't let this go further than it should."

"I'd say that's a bit harsh, considering that this is Tsukishima we're talking about. It must've taken one heck of courage to man up like he did--"

"I'm his teacher, tetsurou," you calling him by his first name gets his attention. He knows you're not playing around, "that's just not right."

And will never be, no matter how much you look at it.

-----

A/N: Part 2 up soon!

#tsukishima x you #tsukishima drabbles #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima haikyuu #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #oikawa #kuroo tetsurou #karasuno #karasuno hcs

[shadow-sandiego-shipping]

Daily Prompts - Day 6

The reason for my tears...

"Where's the birthday boy?" Zack asks when he gets to the snack table, carrying way too many bags of ships than what they would need for the party.

"Uhh, Zack, that's too much chips." Ivy complains, taking a much more reasonable amount from his hands to place on the bowls.

"No such thing!" Zack refutes. "But uh, where is Shadow-san?"

Ivy and Carmen look around. The guest had just started to arrive. Carmen came to help Zack and Ivy with the final preparations (the food) so she and Suhara could start greeting the guests.

"I wouldn't blame him if he ran off." Player sneaks past Ivy to steal a chip from the bowl she was preparing. Zack takes a handful instead.

"Player, bro! Wait until the guests get here!" Ivy scolds.

"Buh theh ah 'ere." Zack points to the people who had started to arrive, with a mouth full.

"He was pretty apprehensive about a big party like this." Carmen mutters preoccupied.

Ivy chuckles. "You picking up some fancy words from our birthday man."

Carmen smiles at the tease. "Can't be help since we live together."

"I've just always been this educated. I went to school." Player jokes, taking another chip. Carmen roles her eyes. "Maybe he's inside?" Player suggests.

"I'll go check."

"I'll come with, Zack forgot the salsa." Ivy says walking by Carmen’s side.

They passed by a few guests, no one from the family had shown up yet, it was just random people they got along with, ACME agents, some store owners they often spoke to…

As they make their way inside, Ivy notices Carmen rubbing her hands.

"You alright, Carm?" She stops just before they enter the building.

"Uh? Oh, yeah I'm fine just… a little nervous for the party that's all…" Carmen resumes her steps entering through the garage. "Do you think Suhara is mad about it maybe?"

Ivy lifts an eyebrow. "I doubt it. I know this sort of thing isn't really his cup of tea, but no way he'd stand Zack and I up when we went through so much trouble. And he's definitely not mad at you, I mean if it weren’t for you we probably WOULD have gotten the bouncy house."

Carmen gives a small not all there chuckle. She clicks the button on the elevator. Ivy looks at her again:

"This isn't about the party, is it?" She asks.

Carmen goes back to rubbing her hands. "Sure it is, I mean- Ok, maybe it's not…" She deflates. The elevator door opens and Ivy places a hand on her shoulder.

"What's going on, Carm?" She asks, concerned.

Carmen looks at Ivy, knowingly. It's then Ivy realizes. "You didn’t tell him yet." Carmen shakes her head.

They both step in the elevator.

"Can I ask why?"

"I… I'm nervous about it. I just… I don't even know if he wants this… with me…"

"Carmen, are you stupid?" Carmen gives her a flat look. "Don't answer that. Look, Shadow-san is crazy about you, why wouldn't he want this? I'm pretty sure you're in the center of his world, Carm."

"But he never really signed up for this. We never talked about it."

"It still takes two to tango!" Carmen gives her an exasperated look. "Alright, alright… my point is, you two do have options, and although I HIGHLY doubt he's going to have a bad reaction to it, you two have been through worse, and yet here you are, at his birthday party and…" Ivy places a hand on Carmen’s tummy, wiggling her eyebrows.

Carmen chuckles a little more sincerely this time. "Okay, alright… thanks, Ivy."

"Happy to help! Seriously tho, you should tell him soon." It's not said in a condescending way, just a caring one.

Carmen sighs. "I know."

The elevator rings and Ivy makes a beeline for the kitchen. Carmen follows right behind but stops when she sees him. Ivy grabs the sauce from the counter and turns back, noticing Carmen had stopped she looks in the direction Carmen was looking. She smiles. "Uh, hey, Carm? I'm gonna take this down stairs. You alright on your own?" She knew the answer already. Carmen nods.

After Ivy is out Carmen walks towards the couch Shadow-san had been sitting in. It's then, and only then he's brought out of his stupor and notices she's there.

"Carmen! Have the guests arrived? Sorry, I… I lost track of time."

Carmen notices he's holding a picture in his hands. She lifts an eyebrow 'lost in time?'

He smiles. "Just, reminiscing." He shows her the picture, it's one they took when Player first moved in, back when the twins were still living with them.

Carmen smirks. He missed more than he let on.

"Should we go now?" He asks her.

She sits down. "Actually I had something to talk to you about…"

His eyebrows raise, he puts the picture on the coffee table and turns to her. His expression reads 'I'm all ears.' or actually 'I am listening.' because that's how he usually spoke.

"Well, I have this friend! She uh, she found out something… important. Something nice! She's happy about it, but… she's not sure how her partner will react…" Carmen bites her lip.

He takes a hold of her hands, cupping them gently. His were always warm compared to hers. Like a furnace.

"Whatever it is, if it makes this friend of yours happy, I am sure their partner will be happy too."

Carmen chokes on her breath. "It's just… this is something big. Something neither of them spoke about before, and she is happy with it but she has no idea if this is something he will want. And it's not something they can just ignore. Its big. A big change. "

"Carmen." She looks up at him. "After everything we have been through. Nothing could ever tear us apart. What ever it is that is burdening your heart, we can figure it out, together." Sly ninja.

Carmen tears up. "I love you."

He smiles fondly. "I love you too."

She hugs him briefly. "Happy birthday by the way?" She smiles.

He chuckles.

She takes a deep breath. "You know there is no friend." He smiles.

She looks him in the eye. "Okay, so… uh… you know how I've been feeling nauseous lately? And how I might’ve been late… this month." His eyes widen. "Well…" She looks down and puts her hand on her belly.

"C-carmen, are you?" He chokes on emotion, could it really be?

She nods.

The floodgates open.

He's laughing, he's crying, he picks her up, lifts her from the couch in a hug and spins them around. He sets her down and gently presses his forehead against hers.

"When did you? H-how did you?" He has so many questions.

"Last week, during girls' night. I've been having symptoms for a while now so Ivy landed me one of hers. God, Suhara, you're crying!" She points out. He laughs with tears in his eyes.

"I am, sorry." His smile never fades. His tears never stop.

"They’re gonna think I'm breaking up with you!" Carmen starts laughing with him.

He steps back and kisses her forehead.

"I love you."

She giggles. "I love you too. So much!" She reaches up and he meets her half way down in a soft kiss.

"We should really get to the party…" She says between kisses. "No need to stop crying!" She laughs, teasing him.

He laughs, cleaning up his face. "Sorry, sorry." He gives her an affectionate look. "I do not recall ever crying when I've been sad." She looks up at him surprised, now that she thought about it… "When I ponder the reason for my tears… all I think about is you."

"Suhara..." She hits him playfully on the shoulder. "When did you become so sappy?" They kiss again.

Needless to say, this would be one of Shadow-san’s best birthdays to date.

Previous day // Promps Aquired from Write App. // Next day

#carmen x shadowsan #shadowsandiego #shadowthief #writing prompt #my writing #the writing app wanted me to do angst but I said NO #its my birthday #i get soft shadowsandiego

[charmixpower]

Ik ur inbox is prob flooded rn but

Specialists fashion style hcs and shopping tendencies..? 👀

Uhhhh UMMM

Men's fashion....ahhhhHHHHHHH

Sky:

Usually dresses like just some guy. Yeah he's some dude, please don't look at him too closely, he's normal. He promises

Jokes aside, he isn't all that fancy with his clothes. He dresses pretty boringly all things considered

He likes to dress in pastel/mid tone cool colors, generally avoiding warm colors, with lighter accents

He really likes jogging suits/track suits tho which tends to make him stand out slightly more bc jogging suits tend to have louder patterns on the than Sky usually wears

When he gets fancy he tends to dress in all white, which he looks weirdly good in. White jeans are a fashion choice he would make

There's also his royal clothes that he doesn't like all that much? Much of his childhood was a four way glaring match between himself, Diaspro, and his parents (while Brandon sighs in the background), so he tends to associate thoese clothes with tense uncomfortable situations....which might be the main reason he's primarily dresses very causally

He doesn't give that much of a shit about fashion, he does like his two tone jeans (not split down the middle like Riven and definitely not as much as Riven, but he likes to have a little fun with his pants) and his sectioned shirt

Ends up buying clothes every time he goes to the mall, there's never a moment when he really needs to go shopping bc he's kinda just constantly doing it—and he also gets gifts from Diaspo and his parents (at first) of new clothes (he does the same for Diaspro, the gifts are really petty and back handed on both of their ends but the only way you could tell is if you knew them really well)

Very slightly more interesting than usual casual wear, a jacket here and there, he's guy shaped

Brandon:

Jester. I thought we were friends. I trusted you. Why the fuck are you making me explain what ever is going on with Brandon's fashion sense this is a fucking nightmare /j

There's his prep era (s1+4??) and his actual fashion sense (s2-3)

Let's start with his prep era bc Brandon is apprently a idol who has eras jfjsne

It's like acidemia and prep fashion mixed together

Brandon would never wear a turtleneck, he's not that far gone, but he's trying his best to give rich boy

Button up shirts tucked into slightly high waisted corduroy pants with brown belts, some very unfortunate sweater vests (like truly tragic), and ascots

Imagine the shapes and clothing styles of acidemia, with the colors of the preppy style

I'm thinking he'd wear suit jackets once he realized how fucking stupid he looked in sweater vests

Brandon dresses like he wants to be punched face for being pretentious, Sky takes great offence at the implication that this is how royalty dresses

Yeah, he's just doing this bc he's overcompensating for his lack of royal training in pretending to be Sky. If he dresses like the most obnoxious rich kid ever then no one can question him right?

In my hc he'd dress a little more toned down than the original (the plaid pants, I'm going to attack him) just bc he doesn't want to push it quite that far but still

After his prep era his formal fashion goes fucking hard tho, he's figured out he looks REALLY good in trench coats and suit jackets/vests and he is not afraid to use this information for evil (flirting)

Brandon will suddenly be wearing a suit vest and pants out of fucking no where and destroy everyone on impact

As for his usual fashion, I'd decribe it as what my mom used to try and dress me in middle school—

Brandon is the hot one, that's just how everyone sees him form the characters to the fans, and fucking yet— Look at his fringe and his outfits??

Anyways I'd decribe Brandon's fashion in one word

Loud

Like jfc this man loves his bright colors and patterns, even his swim wear can't escape bright red and having a pattern on the front. He's just like that

If your wondering what loud means in this context, visually agressive, it's eye catching, visual noise, their clothes that demand attention. It also tends to mean obnoxious

If the outfit doesn't hurt my eyes, would Brandon wear it? Probably not—

Colorful men's summer wear (because Brandon is the opposite of a chill baby) that tend to be matching (there is not jacket so it's not a jogging suit but the top and bottoms usually go together, he likes two piece outfits what can I say)

And of course, crop tops. He's not crop tops all day every day (like Riven) but local man REALLY likes showing off his body ok? He's nature's gift to eyes and who is he to deny the everyday person walking down the street a chance to see him? He's not a monster

Brandon tends to be more out there compared to Riven when it comes to crop tops because Brandon has never even made eye contact with shame before in his entire life

Btw he finds out about crop top vests and goes fucking insane for a full week because he can combine his fashion styles into one monstrosity, Sky is going to physically fight him

Usually just ends up shopping the same time that Sky does bc he's there

Timmy:

Can I just call him a fashion disaster and move on?

Please look at his s1 outfit and realize that his over shirt's sleeves are nomrally drawn like it's tucked in somewhere and oh my god it looks so bad I want to commit a violence

Please look at his mess of a camping outfit. A crop top that meets exactly with baggy high waisted sweat shorts. Help him

No but I don't think Timmy even has a fashion sense out side of "I like the color green and orange" and "showing any amount of skin is terrifying"

He's just a stereo typically nerd

Musa (and Riven) got their hands on him once and turned him into an e-boy and Timmy nearly died

Timmy tends to cover up his skin and layer outfits. Not because he's easily cold but as a form of subconscious armor

He is the only one who benefited from s4 putting everyone into their prep era, getting a very dope looking glow up that I would of loved to see at the end of his character arc of being less of a coward that he didn't have

Really, why does Timmy get to escape with his shirt not tucked in. The designer of the boy's s4 outfits was a Timmy stan, smh

Of course that's immediately followed by the tragedy that is his s4 date outfit and I just *points and laughs*

Timmy is the only one who has consistent good in character outfits in every season (not including s8, bc I refuse to look at s8) good for him

Let the man vibe in his baggy white shirts and the more colorful shirt he layered on top of it. Also, shorts. Timmy really likes his shorts

And let's be real

He shops online

Riven:

Pop punk. I refuse to back down on this. Riven's weird little wrist cuffs are too alternative for most other styles. Um pop punk is (the style of my favorite band) like if a rainbow threw up on nomral punk. You get all the usual things like many belts and wrist cuffs, but you also get a fuck ton of colors.

As for shopping headcanons.... Riven's shopping is a mix of thrifting, upcycling the things he's thrifted, hunting down good deals, and saving up money for something he really wants bc Riven is one of the guys that really care about fashion. He doesn't tend to throw away clothes when he grows out of them but upcycle them, often making them more good looking (to him) in the process by mixing and matching colors

Riven really likes his colors ok?

His fashion in s1 is at his most boring half because he doesn't really wanna waste his money on clothes when he has other things to worry about (like never returning to his dad's house), half because he's low key embarrassed about how much he cares about fashion

After s1 however Saladin puts him on missions, which is amazing for him, which means he feels wayyyy less bad about spending money on clothes he likes

Still spends a lot of time just sewing his one pairs of jeans bc all the normal ones are too boring for him

I know I've been talking about his pants a lot but I need to inform you that Riven is fucking allergic to covering up his chest. He will either cut the shirt into a crop top of find a WAY to make sure his abs/pecs are showing. He's obnoxious like that

He's pretty responsible with his money but clothes are his weakness. Yes he needs that pair of bright pink jeans and he needs them right the fuck now. Like his room is pretty sparse but his closet is full...mostly with very colorful jeans

Helia:

Transmasculine that didn't change his style after transitioning

Doesn't care that much about fashion but is dedicated to his aesthetic

His flower child and Flora's flower child are very different. Flora is more high femme fitted clothing floral print, while Helia is more like flowy/puff shirts, earth tones, no prints, ya know???

Flora is more cottage core and Helia is more boho(??). Yes there is a difference, no I cannot explain it

Helia also seems like a bit of a chill baby (aka he gets cold easily) to me, so he usually wears long sleeve and no crop tops here

You'd think this would mean he'd wear more sweaters and jackets but honestly no, he doesn't like stuffing his giant sleeves onto those. He normally just wears a warmer shirt. If he can't do that, then he'll wear a flowy ass jacket

Helia also seems like the type of person to walk around in the house with a blanket over his shoulders, chill baby, I'm saying it

Many many many peasant blouses

Tends to dress more feminine? He doesn't give a fuck. Helia has gender

Helia is also fucking allergic to formal wear, he will wear a fitted shirt on his fucking death bed, fuck you. He thinks their uncomfortable and he feels like they make him look stupid and he hates them some how more than Riven (who also hates suits) which is an achievement. They might also make him feel dysphoric bc they look obviously wrong to him (and only to him)?? Idk it's the vibes

As for shopping, Helia only shops when he knows he needs new clothes and he really doesn't give that much of a fuck about fashion. He usually buys things in one trip until he grows out of them/they get destroyed then he goes out again. It is a horrible process to him

Plus, bonus Nabu:

Nabu tends to dress very traditionally until he's going out when he dresses as fashion forward as the best of them

He usually just gets clothes from his parents (traditional) and shops online (trendy)

He tries to avoid loud colors and patterns in his more modern outfits bc he usually wears those and he also looks good in dark colors thank you

He's either very traditional or chill and casual......

Wait a fucking minute Nabu (Traditional outfits nomrally, with some modern clothes) dresses the opposite of Musa (nomrally modern clothes, with some traditional outfits). What the fuck

#winx club #winx specialists #winx riven #winx helia #winx sky #winx brandon #winx timmy #winx nabu #winx headcanons #rus chatters #asks #trying to explain Riven's living situation is weird bc hes like fine. he has to support himself as soon as hes out of highschool but #hes like fine #im sorta basing him off of my parents who both moved out very young and they both made it very far #like hes fine. annoyed he cant spend a bunch of money on clothes. but fine #idk how to explain it #how fucking long is this jfc #long post

[enbyleighlines]

Reasons why the Fire Emblem franchise peaked at Tellius:

main characters have an actual personality, backstory, individual goals/desires, established flaws, and a character arc

no dating sim elements

the sheer amount of queer coded characters (Kyza, Heather, Ike & Soren, Tibarn & Reyson, etc)

Seriously, Kyza is a silver-haired cat-person with they/them pronouns. They are almost literally the "has blue silver hair and pronouns" meme

the running gag of Ike having absolutely zero interest in dating women

the laguz, which are a race of people who can transform into cats, lions, tigers, wolves, hawks, ravens, herons, and dragons

an anti-prejudice message which, while not perfect, does explore, among other things: being willing to have uncomfortable conversations, classism, the ramifications of war on the underprivileged, and how religious doctrine can be twisted to justify prejudice

Soren and Micaiah being the best narrative foils (sharing nearly identical backstories and strikingly similar stoic love interests, yet having opposite personalities)

a plot that's driven by character actions and motivations and not just something that happens to the characters

the ultimate ally Ike Fire Emblem who doesn't always understand what he's talking about but damn does he have the spirit and the willingness to learn

the greil mercenaries literally inventing the found family trope

not allowing the player to vicariously date whichever scantily-clad anime waifu strikes their fancy

Ike betraying everybody's expectations by, instead of growing up into a heart-throb bishonen pretty boy, evolving into a bara muscle man

Ike also betraying everybody's expectations by rejecting any fame, noble titles, or other fancy gifts others try to bestow upon him, preferring to live the simple life of the everyman, because that's where the true heart of humanity lies

Ike's absolute brutal honesty and snarky one-liners

did i mention that there are characters that can turn into cats and wolves?

Ranulf especially has the most early 2000's high school OC aesthetic possible with his blue hair, ears, and tail, his cheshire cat energy, and his heterochromia. Arguably Ranulf is Claude's spiritual predecessor, with his playful personality hiding a sharp intellect, except Ranulf actually has a paired ending with the male protagonist

I'm not saying PoR and RD don't have their flaws (they're borderline unplayable at times with the difficulty spikes, the lack of support conversations in RD leaves the new units with much to be desired in terms of characterization, the offensive stereotypes of Heather the man-hating lesbian and Kyza the flamboyant femboy, the lack of racial diversity, how much grinding the Dawn Brigade needs in order to become decent units, the English localization team screwing up the translation in several key conversations or outright adding extra content to push their Ike/Elincia agenda, etc)

But in comparison to the newer games, with their blank-slate protagonists, dating sim elements, and lack of attention on creating a cohesive plot that isn't segmented into three or more routes that all only contain a fraction of the entire story...

Well, the Tellius games are just superior.

Like sure, Heather being a stereotypical man-hating lesbian is not great. But I'd rather have that than have a small number of bisexual options that exist solely for the representation points, while also ensuring that they don't have to be bisexual, if the player so chooses, to avoid hurting the feelings of the cishets

So far I have played PoR, RD, Shadows of Valencia, two of the three Fates games, and the golden deer route of Three Houses

Shadows of Valencia was also very good, if too short. And I will forever hold my golden deer students close to my heart. But I really hope that future FE titles start putting more focus on developing good characters and stories, and less focus on things like character customization and player choice. I'm not saying those things are bad, but they're not what I play Fire Emblem for. I came to Fire Emblem for the high fantasy world politics, the world-building, and the compelling narratives. I don't need 10+ romanceable waifus and the ability to change the main character's outfit in my war strategy game.

#maybe i should play some older fe games #but they won't have laguz so what's the point? #what's the point of a fantasy world without fantasy races? #this is a long post #fire emblem #tellius

[anonymeqaupdates]

(6/6)

Harveston Event

-Jamil and Kalim are staying Yassin's summer home as their winter break. Kalim and Yassin are worried about Jamil's mental health after dealing with the djiin situation.

-Najma sometimes visits Jamil and they all make sure he is doing well in therapy despite his refusal.

-Jamil feels too guilty for what he had done and felt he doesn't deserve to be free. One night, he fallen a sleep and had a nightmare of things he done and Jafar.

-The next morning, Kalim personally brings the food to Kalim but was gotten surprised as he realized Jamil is nowhere to be found and note saying about how he decided to leave after what he did and couldn't forgive himself and decided he should run-off somewhere never to be seen by anyone again. This caused shocked to the point that Kalim fainted.

-Somewhere in Harveston, Epel invited Jade, Idia, Yuu, Grimm, and Sebek for winter break. He supposed to invite the rest of the first years but he was too nervous around Ace, Deuce, and Jack while Ortho is busy and figures he let Idia join in because of his love of the Sledton anime.

-They also heard news about Jamil running away but couldn't do anything to help out since they are far away resulted to their guilt for not helping much even Jade and Idia are saddened about it. They spend their time in Harveston as usually until they notice a man lying the snow without anything warm to warm.

-they make sure to help him out and shock to learn that it was Jamil. They took him out from snow to Felmier household for warmth. Jamil didn't expect them to be taken care of by them especially familiar people, he didn't look at them given he still feel guilty. Although, they did try their best to help him warm and told him that they heard that he ran away from Kalim.

-Jamil didn't speak about it and just stay in silence.

-Yuu eventually called Kalim regarding about Jamil being in Harveston much to their relief. Kalim is glad and decided that he should take Jamil back but Marja appear and told him that it wouldn't be necessary for now as she decided that he will be spending his winter break in Harveston.

Marja: I don't know what's happening back in that fancy school but seeing how that boy suffered, I think a new environment will help him bring him in shape.

Kalim: That's sweet to do so Mrs. Felmier but-

Marja: I insist.

Kalim:But-

Marja: I INSIST!

Kalim: Y-yes!

-So eventually Jamil is now staying in Felmier household until winter break is over. Jamil feels odd to have adults caring about him mostly Marja consider the adults in his life don't care about him even his own parents.

-Although despite the troubled mind, he did felt relax as he ate a delicious meal and seeing the sight of Marja going Vargas on the Epel and his sled group especially Jade suffering.

-Back to Kalim, he is glad that Jamil is alright but felt there's nothing to do now until he decided to go back to school for new years event. That's when Azul and Riddle appear and decided to talk for a break.

-They spend their remaining break and ask about what's happening in Coral Reef to which Riddle have a hard time adjusting in the Leech Househould yet is doing well.

-Eventually they began to ask Kalim on what he is gonna now since he longer needs to worry about the djiin. Kalim explained that he isn't sure but now he is thinking about what he is gonna do about his deal with father.

Kalim: Well I'm not gonna plan to be heir but I don't want to get married.

Azul: Ugh, I didn't like what that ******* did to you. He shouldn't have force you like that.

Kalim: Well even so, I don't know what to do now. I thought for sure I might die from the hands of the djiin. But now I'm here, I don't know what to do.

Azul: Here's an advice...multiple options.

-Azul explains that now he is free, he should think of different paths on what is he is gonna do. Since Kalim will be free from his father once he reached 20, he should used the time to succeed on getting top 10 while developing his skills.

Azul: I see you how capable you are and without Jamil to be your servant, you are no longer be told nor laze around. It's better for you have options. Who knows? You're interested in music, maybe you can participate in VDC and have a career as an idol or music star.

-To which Kalim felt hope of a possibility that he might try it and participate in the event. Riddle and Azul will cheer for him on participating on VDC and even share the same passion on destroying RSA.

Kalim: Isn't your friend from RSA?

Riddle: Yes, but it is frustrating for the school to loose everytime.

-Kalim went to his therapy with a smile ad he talks about his trauma and overblot.

-Back in Harveston, Jamil is able to rest well and enjoy the sight of Harveston until visions came from Jafar. He is paranoid but Yuu calm him down a bit until a sight of Yuu, Grimm, and Jade escaping with Kalim after he was killed vision came as he ran to the forest in fear.

-Yuu, Grimm, and Jade went for help as Jamil is outside the woods as they all gather around to find him. Sebek was able to find him near the river. Sebek told him that they should go but Jamil told him no as he rather stay. A heated argument came.

-Eventually, Jamil breakdown and spouting everything about how he felt over those time since Kalim wished the reverse everything.

Jamil: Why do you all care about me!? The reason you guys are fighting and tearing each other apart is because of me. All of you lied and betrayed one another because of me! If i have never overblotted in the past timeline, all of you wouldn't have suffered. Shouldn't you be mad at me?! I'm the reason why Silver suffered a trauma. I don't care about all of you but still...I...I...

-He returns back crying as he sat down in a huge lying log. Sebek feel bad about him and sat near him. Sebek let him rant him as a way to cope the things he done this entire time without judgement and anger.

-Eventually they kept talking with Sebek mentioning how despite liking his role as a guard to Malleus, he also felt that he is doing too much now that he has friends by his side. Sebek heard stories about Jamil and how he admired Jamil despite not liking the role being a servant. Jamil laughs which confuses the 1st year until he mentions that they have this conversation back in the day of the mirror ceremony. Sebek is confuse until he realized he is talking about what happened in past timeline.

Sebek: So that's how we met?

Jamil: Yeah, you got lost in the first day in Scarabia and Kalim forced me to take you there. Then we have a talk about being servants to our masters. It disgusted me now that i remembered but seeing your face makes me think differently about you. We are not even friends in the last timeline though.

Sebek: Maybe we can be friends in this timeline.

Jamil: What?

Sebek: When I first came in this school, my goal was to take care of Malleus. But seeing how I made friends, it doesn't really hurt much. I can picture you need one now that you are free.

Jamil: Are you sure you want to be friends with me? I'm still the same guy that brought Silver's traumatic event. Even I don't want to be friends with myself.

Sebek: It doesn't hurt to try, I mean I don't really trust that hyena being your only friend and also that Leech.

Jamil smiles: Sure.

-Back in the Felmier Househould, the rest of Harveston return and there's no sign of Jamil everywhere. Realized that Sebek hasn't come back yet, they decided to go back until Jamil and Sebek appear looking happy and laughs about their conversation regarding about Kalim and Silver.

-Yuu and the rest didn't expect to see two people acting friendly to one another. But they let it be as they are glad Jamil and Sebek are okay.

Yuu: So...are you guys friends or something?

Sebek: Hmpph...normally i wouldn't be interested in humans such as you and the rest of you but because of you...I see a new light.

Yuu: Hah! I guess it haven't been for that wish, you would have been rudest half-fae ever.

Sebek: Oh shush it. I still consider some of you troublesome.

-All things go well for the rest of the Harveston event...except of the part where the dwarfs won which made the cast disgusted and Jamil muttered that he wished he join and use his UM at them to loose which lead the cast laughs as well as relieved that Jamil returns back to his...normal self?

Yuu: Is this how normally he is?

Idia: How should we know? We barely interact with him before the djiin situation.

-Jamil return to NRC and met up with Kalim as they began to discuss about their time that help lessen their pain.

Kalim: You think...we can be good friends again?

Jamil: I don't know. I want to, but are you want to be friends with me?

Kalim: You're free, it's your choice to make.

-New Years event to see Sebek, Vil, Kalim, Deuce, Ortho, Rook, Cater, and Ruggie as part of the sales event. Of course, there some chaos around with one of them being that Jamil gave snacks to Sebek, Kalim, Deuce, and Ruggie to get the ticket.

-After the new years event, Jamil invited NRC cast including Idia, Vil, and Rook to the Scarabia banquet as an apology for everything and even made the food. Kalim even helped out with the preparation despite Jamil asking not to.

-The party goes well with Ruggie having a private conversation regarding the past year.

Ruggie: So now you wouldn't be a closet case anymore?

Jamil: I still find you insufferable but I can do the best I can do on time in NRC.

-Ruggie smiles and learns that since Jamil's trauma lessened. He took a opportunity to punch him in the face and laughs that he wanted to this everyday. Jamil looks annoyed before throwing juice at him, they both laugh as they throw food at each other.

-Jamil is happy before being dragged by Kalim as they went to carpet ride as they travel around the island.

Kalim: It's gonna be a long way, Jamil. You don't have to worry about it.

Jamil: ...what now? The djiin is over, yet you're still not free from your father.

Kalim: I don't know but maybe...live through it.

Jamil: Yeah, you're right.

-And then they kissed with Genie's moment in the moon comes like in the Aladdin ending.

-Would been an happy ending...it it haven't been for the fact Pomefeio arc comes with the trio leaving the party early as they discussed about the VDC.

-🧋

I hate to break this to you but you're also way off. The event won't start quite as dramatically and won't resolve quite as nicely. I want the tension and awkwardness for book 5 after all, but most of Jamil's interactions with Marja are spot on! 25%.

#thanks anon! #ask #twst fanfic #fixing it before it broke

[imatechbummerliketomholland]

I wish this trip never ends (sstbthw part 2) - h.h

Word count: 3768

Warning: angst, swear, mention of smoking

Pairing : harry holland

Request: no.

N/A: okay, i took me almost a whole month to write this but i'm kinda need to work on school too. Remember, english is not my first language, so be kind if you spot mistakes, i really tried my best. I asked you who the reader was supposed to end up with ... I'll let you figure it out but ... don't hate me for the end ... because after all ... it might not be the end. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Love you all! xx

taglist : @angeliquekalampoka , @harryhollandsgirlfriend (the one and only harry holland's girlfriend to me)

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previously - and you can find part 3

Restoring a relationship of trust and regaining the bond that you both had was particularly difficult. You had to learn to find your place in Harrison's life, but also in his relationship with Grace. You were roommates and friends, but it was complicated to plan meetings with Harrison's busy schedule. Between his job search after the cancellation of his Netflix series, his photo shoots, his dates with Grace, those with his family. It was getting harder and harder to find a moment to reunite with the two of you. It was without counting your schedule.

You were supposed to meet at noon for lunch at that restaurant Harrison told you about where he took his mother earlier this year, for Mother's Day. You felt uncomfortable going to such a place. It was very fancy; you had taken a look at the menu and you knew in advance that you would not be able to afford to split the bill. That was sometimes one of the downsides of being friends with Tom and Harrison. They sometimes forgot that their salary was significantly higher than yours. After all, they were still simple, good-natured guys, never saying no to a quick takeout meal or ordering pizza, drinking a beer at the local pub. And sometimes, they offered to go to prestigious places, not paying attention to money, wanting to please their friends or family.

Currently you were in your room. You were throwing countless of clothes across the room, trying to choose what you could wear to this lunch. Harry stopped dead when one of your dresses flew out of your room, right in front of his nose, blocking his way. You had left your door open and your spontaneity got the better of your best friend.

“Easy, Tiger. I had no idea your clothes had the capacity of Dr. Strange's cape.” He joked before coming into your bedroom.

You turned to find Harry leaning against your doorframe, a smirk encrusted on his face. You gave him an unamused frown and his smile widened. This wasn’t funny at all; you were stressed as hell. It’s not like you still had feelings for Harrison and try to impress him – to be honest, you still had feeling for your friend, but not as intense as before, you had drawn a definitive line on the possibility of a romantic relationship with him, which had helped you a lot. – But you didn’t want to be dressed down and looked like a clown.

“Come on Munchkin, it’s just a lunch. At worst, Harrison can still make it looks like he invited you out for charity, sort of “Make a Wish” event” Harry joked, in his significant humor.

“Go to hell, Robert. Don’t you have a pack bag to make, mister “I’m going to Spain to help my superstar brother to hold his tea while he’s filming”?”

“Rude… I’m a film director, now”

Not for that, you thought to yourself, but don't have the balls to tell your best friend. You didn't want to take this joke too far. You smiled at his cute pretending offended face. You pouted mockingly before biting your lip. You loved the dynamics of your relationship so much. Your humor, sarcasm, your outspokenness, that's what brought you together. Harry pulled you lightly from your closet with a comforting wink. He chose Yves Saint Laurent poppy red wool jersey flared pants that Tom gave you on your birthday. You smiled at his choice. You liked these pair of pants because they were sparkling with vitality, the color was flamboyant. Harry then gave you a satin pearl-colored shirt from Zara and you laughed at the drastic brand difference.

“Oh I see. A classy look but no more than £ 1000 that's pretty smart,” you joked.

The choice of your outfit once again proved the reality of hanging out with wealthy people. You were not poor; you could even be grateful for the life you had had. But it would never occur to you to give your friends clothes that were going over the miles and cents. To be honest, you wanted it. You wanted to live up to the gifts your friends sometimes gave you. But the truth seemed quite different: you had cried over the price of a used Rolex you wanted to give Tom for his birthday. Even having saved for 6 months, you could not afford such a gift.

“Shut up, don’t be so dramatic. Wear that necklace Harrison gave you for Christmas. I’m sure you’ll look fine”

“Thank you,Baz…I guess. ”

You kissed his cheek and then invited him out of your room so you could get ready. It didn't take you more than thirty minutes, time to put on the outfit your best friend had chosen and to put on light makeup. When you were finally ready, you walked to Tom's room. He had offered to take you to the restaurant where you were to join Harrison. But when you got to his ajar door, you could hear the soft sound of a slight snoring. You let out a chuckle before ordering an Uber. You knew he had spent almost a full month in Los Angeles and hadn't returned until early last week. You wanted to leave him as much as possible alone so that he could rest before his trip to Spain for the reshoots of his film Uncharted. Tom was a boy who loved being in touch with those close to him, but you also felt his need to recharge his batteries. That's why you preferred to let him sleep.

You went down to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water before leaving. When your Uber arrived, you left a note on the refrigerator to let the boys know you were safely gone. It was little everyday things that made you look normal that you enjoy. A post-it on the fridge, a table organizing household chores had been drawn up. Note to yourself; It was Harrison's turn to take care of the laundry.

☙♡❧

You had really hoped this was just a grotesque nightmare. That it wasn't real. He was going to arrive; he was just stuck into the traffic. Isn't it?

But you were there, waiting for over an hour and a half, without any news from your friend. Some people watched you with pity eyes, the others didn't give you any attention. You internally thank Harry for choosing your outfit. You didn't look like a lost kitten in this prestigious setting. It didn't prevent you from being ashamed right now. The waiter had urged you to order several times but you had told him that you were expecting someone, that he would arrive any minute. The last time, you didn't know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

But it never happened. Harrison never came to your dinner. You were alone, sitting at a table, pathetically waiting for your friend to show up. It didn't look like him. He had never stand you up before. And not to improve this embarrassing moment, the waiter came to you again. This time, with a man in a suit. He was elegant, carried himself proud but diplomatic. They stopped at your table, a tight smile on their faces. No doubt the man in the suit was to be the manager.

"Miss, my employee told me that you seemed to have occupied this table for a while now. I am sorry to tell you that if you do not order a few things, you will have to leave the establishment"

You looked at him with misty eyes. You have never been so ashamed in your life. You just nod your head, not trusting your voice just yet. After taking a deep breath, you finally apologize to them before telling them that you are going to leave. The manager of the restaurant, out of politeness awkwardly apologizing for this uncomfortable situation.

You've finished the Dry Martini that you allowed yourself to, paying for it with whatever pride you have left. You pulled your cellphone out of your purse and decided to call one of the boys. After three rings, he picked up.

"Hey ... can you please pick me up?"

Your voice was shaky, you were so ashamed but it was less distressing than having to walk the Walk of Shame to your house or cry in an uber. You hung up and shared your location. You left the lobby, leaving the restaurant, standing in front of the entrance to the establishment. The air refreshed your cheeks burning with shame. Luckily it wasn't raining today. Which was pretty nice compared to that early summer you had had.

When you saw Harry's car pulled up in front of you, you slid into the passenger seat without a word. The curly redhead gave you a heartwarming smile but you definitely could see a spark of annoyance in his eyes. You sigh, resigned while shrugging your shoulders. It was obvious that your friendship with Harrison was still shaky.

"I'm sorry, love. He's a jerk about it."

Coincidentally, like a mitigating circumstance, your phone vibrated, receiving a notification from Harrison. You were chewing your lip with a sort of anguish and irritation, watching the message the blond had sent you.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. My agent called me for a pretty urgent casting briefing. She's detained me until now. Are you still okay for this dinner?"

You were angry. You were mature enough and had known the boys long enough to understand their obligations. The fact that Harrison had a lastminute meeting with his agent and missed your dinner wasn't a problem. The problem was, he made you wait for over an hour and a half before notifying you. You wanted him to call you to let you know, or a simple text just after he knew for the meeting. You typed a short answer, shorter than this was impossible. "No". You rested your head against the headrest, turning your gaze to your best friend.

"Hey, he's a Netflix star now" you replied to his last words.

Your voice cracked on the last syllables and your eyes filled with tears. You weren't usually that emotional but the anguish and shame really took over you. Harry noticed, unsure of how to instantly respond to your distress. He would have liked to stop on an emergency lane to take you in his arms but he already had 2 penalties to pay, respectively for speeding and prohibited parking ... a third fine would not be really welcome. He simply placed his hand on your thigh, drawing circles on your pants to comfort you. He simply moved his hand to shift gears and instantly rested it on your leg whenever he had the chance. This gesture soothed you, enjoying the touch, grateful to have someone as your best friend to mop up your pain.

☙♡❧

Arriving at the apartment, no sign of Harrison. When you walked in the kitchen, you saw Tom sitting at the counter, scrolling his phone. He looked up at you, not directly noticing your annoyed expression.

"Wow..you're ... gorgeous. I love these pants on you"

You smiled, a little amused by the compliment. Of course he loved the pants, it was a gift from him. But your smile didn’t reach your eyes. With a look on your expression then on the clock, the actor understood that something went wrong. Harry was right behind and still no trace of Harrison. It was suspicious. Tom gave you a worried look.

"Do I have to ask…Never mind, I’m still going to ask. How was lunch with Harrison?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask him? Oh wait... right, he didn't show up" you said sarcastically although you could hear the hurt in your voice.

Tom frowned, biting the inside of his lower lip in annoyance. Harrison was his best mate since forever and he knew him so well. It seemed strange from Harrison to not show up. The blond has told him he was happy to see you again and walking through this whole awkward “feeling situation” because he didn’t want to lose you. In a quick movement, he rose from his stool to walk around the counter. The next second, he took you in his comforting arms and you finally let yourself go under the sight of the two Holland brothers.

“It seems like you need a break of all this shit” Tom said while he ran his fingers through your hair.

You let a little laugh escape through your tears. He wasn't wrong. You really needed to get away from this whole situation for a moment. But how? Harry watched the scene unsure of what to do. You were his best friend and it seemed like the solace you found was never in his arms. He had tried in the car, however, as best he could. He walked over to the counter to make you both a cup of tea. It seems that as cliché as it sounds, tea comforts you, as the English person you used to be. As the redhead waited patiently for the water to boil, a flash of genius - according to him - crossed the glare of his eyes.

“Why doen't she come with us to Spain?”

His brother's words seemed to suit Tom, who released his hold on you. You opened your eyes wide, not sure of what you had just heard. Go to Spain, with them? Once again, you knew you were going to argue on this proposition. The idea was not bad, Spain seemed a rather pleasant country. But you had just graduated and had a student job to save as much as possible. However, you could not afford to leave for several days in Spain, at the last minute. Plus, what were you going to do while Tom was filming and Harry was assisting him? He was sure the film's production crew wasn't going to give you a pass because Tom had decided.

“Yeah! That’s it, you’re coming with us”

“Tom, I have a student job. I can’t just…decide to go to Spain.”

“You never take a leave, come on. It’s not negotiable”

You were looking at Harry for help but he just shrugged. After all, he was the one who had initiated the idea of ​​including you on the trip. You were trying to find a valid excuse to stay home. You really didn't want to impose yourself.

“I can’t afford that” you said, trying your best to convince him to quit the idea.

“I don’t care, it’s not even a problem. You coming to Spain with us.”

"Omg, does Z dominate you in bed to make you so bossy in life?"

Harry almost spitted his tea and laughed out loud while Tom gave you shocked eyes with pinky cheeks. You had always been sassy but hanging out with the boys had made you even more sassy than ever. How many times haven't you heard Tuwaine or Harry make fun of Harrison or Tom on the sex subject? Being a girl seemed to make you an untouchable character. The boys had never teased you about your relationships or your sexual partners. And while you've always had feelings for Harrison, you've had your own experiences. Anyway, you had just gone with the flow and Tom's brand-new romantic relationship with his co-star gave you the perfect opportunity.

“That's not the point.” stammered the actor.

Your smile widened, proud of your joke and the way Tom reacted. You heard Harry clear his throat. He had his phone in his hand and his own smile didn't bode well for you.

"The production is okay but it's at Tom's expense."

“You got to be kidding me…”

☙♡❧

You ended up in Spain with two of your best friends. You knew you had limited time before Tom had to fly back to Los Angeles for some Spider-man: No Way Home reshoots. So, you enjoyed as much as possible: accompanying the boys to the golf course - even though you weren't very involved in the sport -, spending time to visit touristic places when they were on set, talking with Rachael and other people from the set. You really enjoyed your trip.

On Wednesday evening you went out to a restaurant with Tom, Harry and two other friends/tom’s colleagues. You couldn't deny that it was fun. You had the opportunity to sunbathe a little while walking through the streets of Madrid. Spain was doing you good and not once did you think about your wobbly friendship with Harrison. You've just left the restaurant when a few fans politely show up to take pictures with Tom. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of how kind Tom had always taken in a few snaps when his fans approached him respectfully - and there weren't too many of them -. You sighed with pleasure before stepping away from the group. You leaned against a wall and took out the packet of cigarettes that Tom had asked you to keep in your clutch bag. Being an occasional smoker, he wouldn't blame you if you took one from him. You tilted your head back to admire the dark starry night when you felt a presence by your side. You narrowed your eyes in mischief as you looked sideways: Harry was there, his nose wrinkled from your cigarette. He didn't like it too much Silence filled your bubble despite the hubbub outside. You were in public and it was not surprising to meet travelers and Madrid residents mingling with the crowd to enjoy this pleasant evening.

"I wish this trip never ends." You finally said, breaking the silence.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he was just looking at you. You were a little tanned, the Madrid sun had done wonders on you; your loose hair framed your face and the summer dress you had chosen for the restaurant looked great on you: It was a short red floral summer dress with a shingle collar. Light enough to keep you from suffocating but decent to wear on any casual occasion. You were beautiful, stunning. His heart exploded at the sight of you, so much that it hurt a few times.

"I wish I had been there for you more." he finally confessed

You finally turned your head towards him and shrug your shoulders, smiling shyly but sincerely.

“You were working, Baz”

“I meant…not only here in Spain. I’m sorry to have let you down recently”

You give him a confused look. He hadn't been a bad friend but he kept implying it. You just shook your head negatively to brush his words away. Harry had always been important to you. He had been the first to step towards you. It was him who introduced you to the rest of the gang. He had always been concerned about you.

The night you met, you immediately clicked up with him. And to be honest, for a moment, you thought he liked you that night. But he never took that step towards you and you never did either. You dreaded that if you kissed him, he would think you were interested in his notoriety by proxy. So you just acted like any reasonable person would - accept the status he gave you. And the second time he asked you to join him with his brother and his friends, you met Harrison and your heart exploded.

"I'm glad you brought me here"

“I'm happy you accepted to come.”

“I didn't really have the choice, Baz” you joked.

He laughed slightly. You weren't wrong, he and Tom had practically dragged you onto the plane, leaving you no choice to be by their side. But you could only thank them, especially Harry who had the idea. You took another hit on your cigarette before leaning back to check out where Tom was with his fans. He seemed to be talking with the girls and didn't seem overwhelmed. So, you didn't want to interrupt him and were just going to wait for him to finish. Harry played with his hands nervously, looking straight ahead and then at you. He seemed to be repeating this game for several seconds before finally asking the question that was in his mind.

“Have you heard from Harrison?” Harry asked quite casually

“He sent me several texts to apologize and wished me to have a good time in Madrid.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

You swallow hard before looking at him. There was an indecipherable glint in his eyes and you weren't sure what to make of it. You drew another puff from your cigarette, maybe that would save you from entering this conversation. But Harry's presence was all around you and you couldn't really escape. So you've decided to be honest.

“It’s complicated. I suppose so...”

“Mhmm”

“But my friendship with Haz is important, I don't want to lose him because of it.”

“Yeah, you can't imagine how well I understand you” he sighed

“What do you mean? Who’s the lucky girl..or guy ?”

Harry turned to you frankly and you did the same, stubbing out the half-smoked cigarette. You are well aware that the conversation was taking a more serious turn. He moistened his lips and walked over to you. Harry was full of things: he was full-loving, sarcastic, talented, daring, impertinent. But Harry was mostly awkward when it came to love. Not just an attraction, no, love with real feeling. Delicately, hesitantly, he reached out to your cheek, stroking it with the back of his fingers, cautiously. You were frozen, your eyes fixed on him admiring his audacity.

"She's the most beautiful girl I ever seen." he said with a small smile.

Harry walked over to you and your heart was pounding at breakneck speed. Harry had ... feelings for you? You were really confused. Since when had he developed his feelings? Why didn't he tell you about it? Why hadn't he tried anything so far? So, were you right from the start? Was there a tension between you since the beginning of your friendship, since your met? But above all, did you want him to take that step? Instinctively, your body responded. You parted your lips and closed your eyes. You enjoyed the warmth of his hand on your cheek and were waiting for the touch of his lips. But it never happened.

"Hey baz, y/n..we're going back to the hotel" Tom said, taking his eyes off his phone. "I…Mhmm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland fic #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield #tom holland

[fictif-moonlight]

What do you think are the M3's love languages? 👀

Thank you for the request! I was really excited to write this!!! I hope you like it! 💖

Heir to Love and Lies Main 3 Headcanons:

Love Languages

Writings Masterlist

Genre: Fluff

Sergio: 

• Sergio's Main Love Languages are physical touch, words of affirmation and quality time.

• Physical touch- Wakes you up with kisses every morning and holds you tight every night, just like he said in his wedding vows. The massages this man gives are amazing.

- "Good morning mi amor. Still sleepy? How about we cuddle for a few more hours?"

• Words of affirmation- I mean, the endless nicknames and flirtatious lines says it all. He really likes to leave short letters when he leaves early for work and you're still sleeping.

- "Hello sleepyhead ♥ I didn't want to wake you up. I'll be home before dinner, wait for me so we can cook together. I love you. ♥"

• Quality time- After some time thinking, I think Sergio prefers quality time over gift giving. He really likes to surprise you a lot. Picnics, helicopter rides, dinner at a fancy restaurant, a month long getaway, from small to big surprises. He treasures alone time with you.

- "I like this... Just you and me. Just us together like this, it's always the highlights of my life."

Bonus: 

• Gift giving- I was really debating whether gift giving or quality time is one of his main love languages. After some time thinking, I settled on quality time, but that doesn't mean this man does not love to spoil you rotten with gifts. Just tell him to tone it down when he gets out of hand.

- "Cariño I bought you something. Do you like it? I thought of you the moment I laid my eyes on it."

• Acts of service- His favorite is when he gets something for you on a high shelf. The man is 6'4, like come on, it's a huge ego boost for him. Just please ask him for help every once in a while, it makes him feel like a school boy helping his crush, even if it takes a while for him to admit it.

- "I mean, It's always nice when you ask for my help... but that's all that is! I will not admit anything!"

Chava:

• Chava's Main Love Languages are physical touch, acts of service and quality time.

• Physical touch- Remember when he said he's not good with words so he'll let his body express it instead? Yeah, that's all you need to know. It's the little things like making sure to hold your hand extra tight when you two are in a crowded place or when crossing the street that really warms your heart.

- "It's crowded today, make sure not to let go of my hand."

• Acts of service- Absolutely enjoys helping you throughout the day. From helping you with the plantation to helping you with house chores, he just likes to help you with anything.

- "Mi corazon, do you need help with that?"

• Quality time- This ties in with acts of service. He likes to help you a lot because it gives him an excuse to spend more time with you. He loves going back to places you two have been when you two were younger and just making new memories there.

- "Do you want to go to the pond today? Maybe some tadpoles need help with a wedding."

Bonus:

• Words of affirmation- He's more vocal in the morning when he just woke up. Compliments you a lot and says the sweetest things.

- "You look amazing during sunrise mi amor."

• Gift giving- Mostly bakes something for you, likes to make you drinks from fruits too. Also likes giving you handmade gifts, they're very thoughtful and holds significance.

- "I made you your favorite pie mi amor."

(We don't really know much about Val because her route isn't out yet so please excuse me if I end up being way off.) 

Val:

• Val's Main Love Languages are quality time, acts of service and physical touch.

• Quality time- I have a feeling she really value's quality time in a partner. She likes to get to know them more every single day, it doesn't matter how long you two have been together, you two always find something new about each other each day.

- "I didn't know that about you... It feels nice knowing I'll spend the rest of my life getting to know the person I love the most."

• Acts of service- She's the type of person that shows how much they care about you by being there for you. There to help you, be of service for you. Like, making sure to bring pepper spray and other self defense objects to look out for hers and yours safety. She is a cop after all, so she can be very protective.

- "Mc, take this. To make sure we're safe. I don't want you getting hurt."

• Physical touch- She can be very clingy, in a cute way of course. Both in public and private. Whether it's holding hands or a quick kiss, as long as she can hold you she's happy. Cuddle attacks from her are an every day surprise.

- "Cuddle attack! Hahaha got you!"

Bonus:

• Words of affirmation- She compliments you every single day, not a single miss. Always makes sure to boost your confidence.

- "Wow mi amor... You look so perfect."

• Gift giving- She's kinda a mixture of Sergio and Chava. If she sees something that reminds her of you, she'll buy it for you. But she also loves making handmade, thoughtful, from the heart gifts.

- "Mi amor I made this for you while I was at the station. I couldn't stop thinking of you, it didn't help that it was completely boring without you Haha."

Note: My ask box is open if anyone wants to ask/request some Fanfics and Headcanons. I will write for Sergio, Chava, Val and other Heir to Love and Lies Characters.

#fictif #fictif games #heir to love and lies #who killed la dama roja #sergio jimenez #fictif heir to love and lies #fictif sergio #fictif who killed la dama roja #chava cerilla #fictif chava #valentina pilar #val pilar #fictif val #headcanons #heir to love and lies headcanons #fictif headcanons #my writing request #my writing

[levbug]

𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 — 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫.

#pairing ー suna rintaro x gn! reader

#warnings ー nothing i think? best friends older brother! suna, which is a warning in of itself also, he knows.

#wc ー 1.3k

happy holidays everyone !!!

wandering the empty hallway of your best friend's insanely large house in the middle of the night was not a good idea. it didn't matter that you used to spend your free time as a child running down these halls, finding every nook and cranny, and squeezing yourself in it just to win another round of hide and seek; the house felt completely different at night. doors creaked as if they hadn't been oiled in centuries, floorboards squeaked beneath your feet, and strange shadows kept creeping up in the corner of your eye.

shuddering, you pull your cardigan tighter around you. despite being dressed in your warmest pajamas and thickest wool socks, the cold winter air still breezed past your garments and settled as an unshakeable chill deep in your bones. you'd think a house as fancy as this would at least have proper heating.

you squint as you navigate your way to the kitchen, your path is illuminated only by the twinkling christmas lights and dull streetlamps outside. one thing you had never gotten used to, even as a kid, was that the lights in the house were to be turned off by 9 o'clock, the only exception being if you were using the room. it was always a little silly in your opinion, but you respected the rule nonetheless. still, that didn't mean you hated it any less.

relief floods your being when you round the corner and see that the kitchen lights are on. good, someone else is awake too. you hurriedly scuttle towards the room, gasping when your sock-clad feet glide against the polished hardwood floors and you slide.

before you can fall, a hand shoots out and catches your wrist. "woah!" a familiar voice exclaims. "you okay there?"

embarrassment crawls through your being. "yes, thank you." you reply timidly, avoiding eye contact with the other person. slowly, you steady yourself with their assistance, shooting them a small, grimace-like smile when they ask you if you're sure you're okay. "i am, really. thank you."

"alright, just checking," he says, letting your wrist go. it isn't until he turns around that you allow yourself to look at him.

suna looks awfully different from the last time you saw him. maybe it was the fact that he recently just came back from college to visit home for the holidays, and he now he exudes an air of maturity that was foreign, yet befitting of him. or maybe it was because his hair is longer now, messy and disheveled and sticking up in different directions like arrowheads that can't decide where they wanna point. or maybe, you realize as suna now turns to face you, he just grew up.

long gone is the suna with cheeks filled with baby fat, the suna with a gummy smile and wobbly teeth. the boy who used to chase you and his sister around with snails and worms in hand and laughed when you would squeal in disgust. the boy who would talk endlessly about dinosaurs and robots, and how he wanted to be an astronaut so that he could take an alien from mars and keep him as a best friend. the boy who cried a river when he skinned his knee during a game of tag, and whose cries would only quieten if his mother bought him a character popsicle from the passing ice cream truck.

long gone is the boy.

instead, a man stood in front of you. a man who looked so familiar yet foreign at the same time. he was taller than you now, tall enough that you'd have to tilt your head up if you wanted to look him in the eye. his smile was more reserved, devoid of that childish glee it used to hold. he seemed to have gained confidence too: he no longer stood slouched, unsure of how to adjust to his sudden growth in height. suna was handsome now, and maybe he always had been, but you had never noticed because he was your best friend's brother.

maybe this change in him was the reason your heart was beating rapidly against your chest.when suna notices you staring, he smirks, the corners of his lips tugging upwards as dimples dig into the soft flesh of his cheeks. fortunately, he says nothing about it. "so," he says instead. "why are you up so late?"

"c-could ask you the same thing." your throat feels unnaturally dry, so you grab a clean glass from the counter and fill it with water. suna chuckles at your reply.

"never lost your wit, have you?" he asks, shooting you an amused smile from over his shoulder. it's then that you notice the twinkle in his eye. it's the same twinkle you used to see every time suna would receive a gift, like candy or toys. it comforts you to see that it hasn't diminished, that not everything about him has changed.

"suppose not," you respond dryly. inwardly cringing, you distract yourself by pouring yourself a cup of ice-cold water, the exact opposite of what you wanted. (you'd go heat some water, but the kettle is beside suna, and you're afraid to get too close to him.) swallowing thickly, you manage to ask, "uh, what about you? why are you awake?"

"me?" he hums, almost as if he wasn't expecting you to ask him. "ah well," he breathes out. "can't sleep. also, i remembered we still had cereal, and well, you know i could never resist." he adds, chuckling softly as he runs a hand through his hair.

you stifle a snort at his response by bringing the glass up to your lips. he seems tired, you realize. his movements are more sluggish and there's a slight drawl to his words. it's attractive on him. silence fills the air as you take a long gulp of water. you wince when the cold surface of the glass comes in contact with your lips, goosebumps rising on your arm when you swallow the cold liquid. from the corner of your eye, you can see suna staring at you with a thoughtful expression.

"you know," he says when you place your cup on the counter. "you haven't answered my question. why are you still awake?"

"uhm," you swallow thickly. "same reason as you, i guess. i couldn't sleep either."

"how come?" suna asks, stepping closer to you. the kitchen feels like it's getting smaller with each step he takes.

suna has never been shy, at least towards you. that fact is made apparent with how he keeps eye contact with you. it's the kind of eye contact that's uncomfortable, but you can't look away either.

"i-i've just had a lot on my mind," comes your breathless reply. he's closer to you now, close enough that if you wanted to, you could lean up and kiss his insanely soft-looking lips. but you don't.

the older boy hums, lips quirking up into a small smirk. "like what?"

warmth spreads across your cheeks. "things. l-like school, and stuff." you mentally curse yourself for your lame reply.

"really?" he leans down slightly, his face hovering just above yours. the warmth that radiates from him is comforting and intoxicating, and you want nothing more than to slam your lips against his.

"are you sure you haven't been thinking about someone?" his smirk widens into a knowing grin. it seems that your misfortune was the cause of his amusement.

before you can reply, suna pulls on the drawer just next to your thigh and pulls out a piece of silverware.

"heh," suna chuckles when he sees your mortified expression. "just needed a spoon." he smiles innocently as if he didn't just try to make your heart combust.

you watch, stunned to silence, as suna navigates his way through the kitchen and picks up his bowl of cereal.

"i'll see you around, (name). goodnight!" the boy waves his spoon at you. he doesn't even wait for you to register his words before he skips away gleefully.

when you come back to your senses, you slap your hand against your forehead. crap, you think to yourself, feeling the erratic beating of your heart against your rib cage.

suna rintaro left you feeling warmer than you've felt since summer that evening.

#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu!! #hq!! #suna rintaro #suna rintaro x reader #inarizaki x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #suna fluff #suna angst #suna headcanons #suna scenarios #ri$$ie.txt

[missymurphy1985]

The Return

It's been 2 years since you were last in Dublin. 2 years since you up and left without warning, saying goodbye to your life there and restarting somewhere completely new. Sometimes, you have to go backwards in order to move forwards.

Requested by @noctvrnalmoth I hope you like it!

*Featuring Jim from the Delinquent Season*

Stepping off the train into the platform, you sighed. It all looked the same, and yet so different. Pulling the buggy open, you gently strapped your sleeping son in and made your way to the taxi rank, your suitcase trailing behind you. A kind lady helped you with your bags and waited with you for an available taxi.

"You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders there, are you okay?" She sat next to you on the bench as your son murmured adorably in his sleep. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry..."

"No don't be sorry.. just been a long time since I came back here is all. Few loose ends to tie up." You glanced at your son's sleepy features as his eyes started to open. Beautiful, ocean blue eyes alongside his dark hair, growing more every day... The memories of that night flooding back before you took a large gulp of water from the bottle in your bag, forcing them back down. You'd done so well... 2 years and you'd built a new life in London. New friends, amazing new job allowing you to put that degree in marketing to good use - you were finally making a complete fresh start. But the secrets you had buried deep inside kept coming to the surface the more your son grew. He deserved to know his roots, who his father was, you knew that, but you couldn't do it.

Choking a tear back, you thanked the kind lady for helping you as a taxi pulled up and she helped you to get in.

Pulling up outside your cousin Natalie's townhouse in the city centre, she was waiting for you at the gate to help with Jackson and your bags. Grinning from ear to ear she pulled you in for a huge hug once you'd got inside and settled on her couch as Jackson sat in this new lady's lap tugging at her earrings.

"I can't believe I'm only just meeting him y/n.. he's the image of you!!" She kissed his cheek, bringing him up to look at him properly for the first time not over Skype.

"I never see it, I just see.... I just see him I guess..." You mind wandered to the man you actually saw, but you didn't let it slip.

"Those EYES!!! So blue and vibrant, just beautiful!" Natalie was swooning now, she'd never seen eyes that blue on a baby. Your eyes were brown, so he clearly inherited them from his father, although you had never revealed his identity - just a drunken one night stand and he wasn't involved. You weren't lying, technically...

After catching up properly, Natalie told you she'd planned a few people coming over to welcome you back that evening - nothing major, just a few friends from years ago that were keen to see you after so long away.

"Oh.. yes, that would be nice... Um, who's coming?"

"Well I think David and Amanda, possibly Caroline.. I think Liam is asking Jim too but I'm not sure if he's up for it - he's been through a tough time lately.." you caught a gasp in your throat at the sound of his name. Last you heard, through Natalie, he and Danielle were going through a rough patch. Cheating accusations on both sides, they'd agreed to a trial separation. "Apparently she isn't as broken hearted as once thought - already shacked up with someone new, fancy house on the coast, new Jag on the driveway, she's doing quite well for herself!" Your chin began to wobble, not unnoticed by Natalie, who placed Jackson in his bouncer on the floor and moved to place a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine Nat, honestly I'm good. It was a long time ago, things have changed. I'm not that silly little girl with a crush anymore..." Natalie looked into your eyes. Nothing ever got past her.

"Y/n.. when I said I'd never seen eyes that blue, I meant on a baby. Only one person I know has eyes like that, and I think you know too. Tell me the truth, please?" You were frozen, until tears escaped and you couldn't stop them. Jackson looked to see his mum crying and began crying too. Scooping him up, you held him close.

"It happened once... Just once Nat... And he doesn't know and he doesn't need to know, let's just leave it there, yeah?"

"What?? This is Jim's son? I was almost kidding y/n... How could you keep this from him for 2 years??" She was stood up now in complete shock. Jim wasn't just her friend, he was her husband's brother - this made things even more intense. The atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

"Please Nat... This wasn't easy okay? I was 21, I slept with a married man, and I got pregnant... Then mum died.. I had to go back to London to sort out the funeral and the will... I didn't want to be seen as the homewrecker that got herself knocked up..."

"And what about Jackson? Doesn't he deserve to know his father?"

"Of course... And he would.. when I was ready Nat. And I'm not ready..."

"Not ready for what?" Liam, Natalie's husband was stood in the doorway, as you heard the front door close. Now standing next to him was the man you were desperately trying to avoid... Jim stood behind him, eyes wide at the sight of you with a baby in your arms.

"Baby, we need to go pick up that delivery from the post office, remember the one we missed last week?" Natalie pulled a confused Liam out of the room, leaving his brother and you alone.

"Y/n... Hey.. um.. how are you?" You tried to smile in response but your heart was pounding in your chest, you could barely breathe.

"I.. yeah.. um, yeah I'm okay.." you glanced down at his hand.. the wedding ring was gone. "I'm sorry to hear about you and Olivia..."

"Probably for the best eh... We weren't exactly getting along, just stayed together for the kids I think. They're older now though, they're fine. Y/n.. where did you go? Why did you go?"

"My mum was ill... She'd had a stroke and they couldn't save her, I had to go... I just stayed.. and things happened.."

"You had a baby..." He looked at the little boy in your arms, feeling extremely nervous now. "He must be just over a year old, right?" You nodded.

"13 months.."

"And we... We had sex y/n.. the day before you left..." His own breath was faltering now as the dates in his mind started to catch up. Again, you nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. The realisation of what was happening dawned on Jim. He started to back away, before shaking his head and storming out of the house, the door slamming behind him making you and your son jump.

Your sobs came out in full force now, Liam and Natalie coming back into the room. Liam took Jackson into the kitchen to find him something to eat as Natalie held you.

"It's okay y/n... Give him time yeah? Poor guys just had the shock of his life, he'll come round." Your heart was sinking.. you hadn't meant for any of this to happen, but here it was. The memory of that afternoon had never left you, you hadn't even been able to move on - your son, for starters, looked just like him, how could you find love with anyone with the constant reminder of the man you'd never have around you 24/7.

Flashback

"I'm so sorry Jim, I didn't know who else to call..." You climbed into his car, cheeks burning as he picked you up from outside the pharmacy. You'd been walking along the road when a pothole in the pavement took you by surprise and you'd tripped, your ankle turning funny - the pain was horrific, but no one seemed to be answering your phone calls when you rang around for someone to come pick you up. Reluctantly, you'd dialled Jim's number, your cousin's brother in law. He'd given you his number the previous week, after offering to help you move into your new apartment later that month.

"No problem, I was just dropping the kids at school so I was only round the corner." He helped you into the car and drove you back to his house. "I figured your place is in boxes, no chance of a first aid kit either, I'm guessing?"

"No," You laughed. "Thank you so much.." you grimaced as you turned your foot round, trying to ease the pain.

"Definitely not broken, just need to rest it. I'll put the kettle on." Jim led you into the kitchen and sat you down at the kitchen table, and grabbed an ice pack from the fridge. Lifting your leg onto the chair opposite, he placed the ice pack onto your ankle. "Feeling okay?" He asked, flicking the kettle on and preparing two mugs of coffee.

"Much better.. thank you." Definitely better.. the physical contact from him was driving you insane, you had to swallow the blushes in your cheeks, praying he hadn't noticed.

"I've only got instant coffee... Hope that's okay - Danielle won't let me buy a coffee machine." He rolled his eyes. His wife was one of the tightest women he'd ever met.

"It's fine, thank you.. and I honestly can't thank you enough for coming to get me.. I can't believe how clumsy I am!"

"Hey those pavements are a nightmare - I'm surprised no one's broken a leg yet! Don't you be moving now, I'll take you back home once that swelling has gone down."

"How did you know how to fix it all?"

"I have a son, y/n, who at one stage a few years ago thought he was an actual superhero and would fling himself off anything to check if he could fly.. you learn the difference between a broken ankle and a twisted one pretty quick!" He laughed, remembering the time his son climbed the tallest tree in the park, giving him a heart attack before throwing himself from the top - luckily Jim caught him before he hit the floor.

"I think it's better now, Jim, I can try and walk." You said, after chatting for a while in the large kitchen.

"Let me help you.." he held your hands and guided you upright, your chests now pressed together as you placed your foot gingerly on the floor, testing it's strength. Stumbling slightly, Jim caught you, your bodies now even closer together. You could feel his heart racing, could he feel yours? His hands wrapping around yours, holding you up, an arm snaking round your waist. You looked up and found him looking right back at you, your face inches from his. Before you had time to think, you kissed him, before quickly pulling back.

"Shit I'm sorry... Oh god.. no... I'm sorry..." He took your hand in his and pulled you back to him, pressing his lips back to yours. This time you didn't pull back, your mouth opening allowing his tongue to dance against yours. Lifting you up, he sat you on top of the counter, his hands roaming your body hungrily.

"I can't... I shouldn't..." He murmured against your neck, the vibrations driving you wild with need. "You're so fucking beautiful y/n..." He ground your hips against yours, you could feel his erection through his jeans as you reached down to cup it through them, kneading it slightly. He growled, pulling your hand up to his chest, his heart hammering underneath his shirt. "You feel that? Feel how fast that's going?" Silently you took his hand and placed against your chest.

"Feel mine...." You pushed his hand down lower.. over your breast... Down your stomach and under the waistband of your skirt. His fingers found your folds, and he gasped your name. "I'm wet... I'm so fucking wet..." Lifting your skirt up, he pulled your underwear down. You relieved him of his jeans and they fell to the floor, revealing no underwear, just his huge, hard cock already leaking.

"I see you are too..." You ran a finger along the slit, taking some of the precum and lifting it to your mouth. "You taste good..."

"You want this...?" He asked, lining himself up against you. You nodded, and he pushed in easily, you gasped his name and threw your head back as he filled you completely. Pulling on your hips, he rocked you against him as he moved his own hips back and forth, fucking you against the countertop. You legs wrapped round his waist as his thrusts came harder, deeper, faster.

"Fuck... Right there... Jim... Oh god...." He bit down on your exposed neck, hands pushing against your still covered breasts, he moaned.

"Feels so good y/n... You feel so good... That's it baby, I need to feel you... Cum for me..." You leaned back, and eyes locked with his you drew a hand down to circle your clit as he moved inside you.

"Gonna make myself cum on you... Gonna cum hard for you... Faster Jim..." He pounded into you now, your moans echoing through the kitchen as you came over him, his release following seconds later. Both of you leaned your heads together as your worlds came back into focus.

Present Day

"Hey."

"Hey.." you'd agreed to meet Jim for a coffee a few days later. He'd called you the evening before, slightly tipsy which made you chuckle. Liam and Natalie were watching Jackson while the two of you caught up.

"How's the hangover?" You smiled, he grimaced.

"Well I've definitely felt fresher.. it was a bit of a shock y/n..."

"Listen.. for what it's worth.. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was pregnant until I was nearly 20weeks. With the stress of losing mum and the funeral, I hadn't had a period for a while but I thought it was just the stress.. then my friend convinced me to take a test and the doctors confirming it.. it was too late to do anything about it.. then I heard you and Danielle were trying for another baby and I just couldn't do it Jim.. I couldn't destroy your life like that.." your hands were shaking. He leaned over and took your hands in his.

"I understand y/n.. I do. I spent most of this week thinking about it. I don't blame you for what you did.. but I do wish you'd told me."

"I'd done enough damage Jim, sleeping with a married man? On his kitchen counter where he makes his kids breakfast? Where his wife makes her coffee in the morning? I couldn't face you.. I couldn't face what I'd done.."

"You know where my wife was, that morning?" He leaned back, smiling a little. "At her office, bent over the desk while her boss fucked her from behind. She called my number by accident while it happened. I didn't answer, obviously, I was busy.. but my voicemail picked up the whole thing. I'd had my suspicions for a long time, but that confirmed it. We were never trying for another baby - that's just what she told people to distract them from the fact we were clearly falling apart at the seams. Couldn't exactly be mad at her after what I'd done with you though."

"Did you tell her?"

"Yes, but she didn't know it was you. Then you up and left.. I thought there was no need to tell her who it was. I guess now we kinda have to, right?"

"Jim, I don't expect anything from you, okay? I have an inheritance from my mum, I'm fine for money, there's no need to be involved if it'll cause you problems.."

"No. You've kept him from me for nearly 2 years y/n, don't do this again, please? I'm not asking you to move in, I'm not asking for a relationship, I just want to get to know our boy.. that's all.. please?" You saw it in his eyes. It was there, for all to see. Was it love?

"I'll call Nat.. ask her to bring him over, maybe we could go for a walk?" Jim smiled, nodding. You made the call, and an hour later you were walking to the local park, Jim pushing the stroller. He took Jackson out of the buggy and placed him inside a baby swing, pushing him gently while pulling silly faces making him giggle. Your heart swelled watching them.

"He's incredible.. those eyes.."

"Your eyes, Jim." He looked up at you and smiled listening to his son's giggle, before he started becoming grouchy again.

"He's teething... Come on little man, let's get you back shall we?" Jim lifted him from the swing and placed his little finger in Jackson's mouth. He responded by sucking his gums along it, finding relief. You smiled, watching Him soothe your son's whimpers of pain as his teeth came through.

Making your way inside Natalie's house, you were surprised to find it empty. A note on the kitchen counter read that they'd gone out for the afternoon, they wouldn't be home until the evening. You warmed a bottle of milk for Jackson as Jim gave him some Calpol. Taking the bottle from you, he fed his son, as you watched, heart pounding as you watched the man you were still in love with take such good care of your baby. Within 15 minutes, Jackson was fed and had been rocked to sleep in his father's arms, you took him and placed him upstairs in his cot to nap. You knew he'd be out for at least an hour after all that fresh air. Walking back into the lounge, you found Jim sat on the sofa waiting for you.

"Come here, y/n..." You sat next to him as he turned to face you, hand gently caressing your cheek. "What are we going to do now?"

"I'm heading back to London tomorrow Jim..." His eyes glistened slightly. He'd just found his son, and now he was going again. He'd just got you back in his life, and now you were disappearing again...

"What can I do to make you stay?" His question took you by surprise. Stay?

"Jim, I..."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you.. about what happened 2 years ago. How long I'd wanted you, how long I'd dreamt of you, how I still dream of you even now.. and we share a son y/n.. I can't let you go again, it'd break me.."

"I'm half your age Jim! I'm barely older than your eldest child, how can this possibly work?" He answered with a kiss. Leaning forward to take your mouth against his, without thinking you returned it, linking your fingers with his as he pulled you into his lap.

"It'll work because we'll make it work.. nothing else matters.. all of that other stuff is irrelevant.." he felt you grind your hips against his and his erection was burning against his jeans. He needed you, now.

"And Danielle?"

"Is fucking a man old enough to be her own father - opinion invalid. I don't care about her, I care about you.. please.." he was aware of how desperate he sounded but he didn't care. He had his hand under your t-shirt against your breast, no bra in the way this time. Lifting you up, he carried you upstairs to the guest room you were staying in, and laid you down softly on the bed underneath him.

"Birth control?" He looked at you, smiling.

"The coil - don't worry, I'm covered this time.." You smiled back as he lifted your t-shirt over your head and kissed you again. The reason for being at the pharmacy 2 years ago was to collect your prescription for the pill - you'd not taken it for a couple of days after running out suddenly. After Jackson was born, you switched to a more efficient form of birth control.

Pulling your skirt down and off, along with your underwear, he nestled his face between your thighs, now parted by his hands.

"I want you to watch me y/n... Watch me as I make you cum..." Your core burning, you raised yourself up on your elbows as he blew a hot breath against your wet folds, causing you to shiver under him. He parted your lips with his fingers, before licking from your pulsing hole up to your clit, finding a rhythm that made you cry out and shudder underneath his tongue. Smiling, groaning into you, you tried to keep your eyes on him as he licked and sucked your throbbing clit in his mouth.

"Jim.. don't stop.. oh god..." You hadn't had sex since that afternoon 2 year ago, no one being good enough to compete with the man currently buried between your legs. No pleasure you'd given yourself since was a patch on this, and you felt that burning feeling in your stomach starting to rise. "I'm close... Mm... Fuck I'm close..." Your words barely a whisper but he heard them, pushing harder with his tongue as a finger entered you, hooking upwards to find that spot inside, the one you didn't think actually existed, but there it was.. you bucked against his mouth, coming hard and fast - you felt your liquids gush over his chin, there was no stopping them... "Aha... Oh god Jim... Fuck... Stop, it's too much..." He smiled, blowing another warm breath over you before moving back to your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, turning you on even more.

Flipping him onto his back, you lifted his clothes off him and kissed down his chest. Your core needed a breather before you took him inside you. Licking the top of his now rock hard cock, you slowly sank your lips down, taking him fully inside your mouth. You'd never had a strong gag reflex, and you enjoyed the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Holy fuck... Jesus y/n... That's it baby..." Up and down your head bobbed, swapping between hard and light sucks, your teeth gently scraping the underside of his cock and your fingers lightly playing with his balls underneath you. Every time you felt them tighten, you'd ease off, allowing him to catch his breath, before bringing him into your mouth again. After a few near explosions, he couldn't take anymore and lifted you off motioning for you to sit on him. "Ride me y/n..." You smiled, and sank your pussy onto him, allowing him to fill you. Slowly so as to adjust to his length, your hips moved, back and forth, up and down, finding the right rhythm for you both. He sat up, chests together and his hands under your thighs as he rotated his hips from underneath, driving his cock against that magical spot again.

"Yes... God that feels good... Jim..."

"I'm not gonna last long y/n..."

"That's okay.. we've got plenty of time to make up for this... Cum in me, give me all of you..." You felt his cock twitch inside you as he moved your hips faster. Leaning back, you rode him hard, the bed frame squeaking underneath as you both cried out, your climaxes arriving simultaneously. Coming back to rest your head against his, you clenched your core once more causing him to gasp as you drew yourself off him slowly. Lay down next to each other, he pulled you into his arms.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, kissing your head gently. "Plenty of time?"

"I meant it, Jim... I need to get back to London to sort a few things, put my flat up for sale.. my job... But yes. If you'll have us, we'll come back.." you looked into his eyes. He lifted your head to kiss you and you felt it. All the love you thought you'd never find, in the man you thought you'd never find it with.

Everything was going to be fine, you couldn't wait to start your life over again, this time for the last time.

@margoo0 @queenshelby @peakyscillian @cloudofdisney @ntmynouis @being-worthy

#delinquent season #jim delinquent season x y/n #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x smut

[cher-writes]

Silver Screen / Silver Pole | Robert Sheehan x Reader (18+)

Summary: A night of celebration in a LA strip club takes an interesting and unexpected turn when a contrarian actor winds up offending the wrong stripper. But night is long and the possibilities are endless, where will it take them?

Word Count: 7.3k

CW: Mention of sexual harassment, Consensual slapping, NSFW smut

A/N: This one is surprisingly not bloody at all and the smut isn't wild either so like most everyone can read it. Although it's emotionally very heavy. So, get ready to feel some shit. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

Special thanks to @crisis-of-joy for being there for me the whole month I took to complete this emotionally taxing fic and also for being my kind beta reader & editor.

Burning on it’s way down, the third glass of whiskey finally gave her some life she desperately needed. Deafening music throbbed throughout her veins, drowning the club in the background. She wanted to drown with it too but she couldn’t, she was there to work and rent for the month was already due. The fourth glass was on the verge of meeting with her bitter mouth when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t drink so much, you’ll trip on the stage,” Coco practically shouted in her ear. Coco was the only friend she had in that goddamn place and It wasn’t a very rare occurrence that Coco had to drag her blackout drunk body out of the club. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say she had a problem. Considering that she was already on her third strike of the month and the third drink of the night, Coco knew better than to let her get drunk this early.

 “I can’t stay here and be sober at the same time,” she shouted back at Coco, “especially after...nevermind,” but decided against talking about it and instead focused her energy on finishing the fourth glass, which was gone just as quickly as the words stopped coming out of her mouth.

 She could read the concern on Coco's face and sense the questions brewing behind it as Coco spoke up, “I want to know what the fuck is up with you but I have to go now, Caleb came home from school hours ago, it’s pretty late and I have to cook him dinner.”

“What happened to Larry? Can’t he take care of the kid? He’s fucking jobless anyway.”

“He got in a bad fight again. I can barely afford Caleb’s school fees and now the medical bills.”

“If only you had divorced him, you wouldn’t need to worry about it.”

“And if only you had been less violent towards customers, you wouldn’t be on the verge of getting fired. But, here we are.”

She furrowed her brows at this sudden sharp stab of truth by Coco and dealt with it the only way she knew how to, by ordering another drink. Coco crossed her arms letting out a deep sigh and said, “Look, I'm only trying to help you, (y/n). Sam wanted me to go up. You see that group seating in the fifth VIP booth? Up there. They are celebs and celebrating something so, ya know, good money. I said no cause, as I said I gotta go home, but I convinced him to let you go up there. It was hard given your recent less-than-favorable behavior, but I managed to.” Coco snatched the already empty glass from her hand and continued, “So stop drinking, go up there and get that money. And for the love of God, behave yourself or this might be your last night here.”

Giving her hand a quick but tight squeeze, Coco got up then soon after disappeared into the crowd. She thought to herself about how a last night there wouldn’t be so bad if she could afford it, and wanted another drink immediately to kill that thought, but Coco's words haunted her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see three men sitting in the booth, laughing.

------------

Her head was in a violent swirl, vision blurry. She was way too drunk to be spinning around the pole, but she had an audience to entertain and had no one but herself to blame.

When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste, the song was thudding against her skull. Pulling herself together, she counted every second, waiting for the song to end. She could feel the eyes on her, sticking to every bit of her, just as invasive as it was the very first day yet, she couldn’t care less. She had to live through it if she wanted the money and she needed the money if she wanted to live. The room was dancing circles around her as the tips came flying in, she kept counting the seconds, sliding down the pole, and your knee socks.

------------

She was swaying dangerously on her way down from the stage. If the song didn’t end when it did, she would have thrown up without a shadow of a doubt. At that point, she didn’t even know how or what she danced, only the awful sickness in her stomach let her know that it was more than she could take.

She needed to chat up the men, try and convince them to buy a champagne room before the next song came on, which she feared was way too soon for her liking. Nevertheless she tried to steady herself but the big glass platforms messed with her earnest efforts, nausea kicking her in the stomach once again, letting her know of her limits. 

She didn’t ever really look at the men who sat in front of her, leering at her, they all looked the same, smelt the same and talked the same. So she followed the same old routine, bending down just enough to give them a view up her tits. Pressing her arms closer, she slurred, “What are we celebrating, gentlemen?”

 She absolutely hated how she sounded pandering to men, two pitches higher. “My friend over here landed a role in a Spielberg film!” the middle one spoke up and pointed to the one sitting on the right side. The one in question grinned in response and repulsion licked the back of her neck at the sight of that. Yet she needed to please him, “That’s amazing! I’m sure I’ll be seeing your face on the billboards everyday now while driving,” she said and fantasized about having enough money to burn down all the billboards in LA and maybe LA with it too.

 “Hell yeah you will!” the one in the middle spoke up and broke her reverie so she pretended he was supporting her fantasy instead. “Oh please! Speak for yourself!” the one on the right perked up in his seat and continued, “He’s literally working with Fincher AND he got engaged!”. The one in the middle gave a revolting smirk at the very humble revelation of his accomplishment and it was enough to turn her stomach or maybe it was the alcohol, she couldn’t really decipher.

 “Oh really?” she looked at the man, tilted her head and said, “And you came to a stripclub to celebrate your engagement?”, her face deadpan. Notes of contempt stuck out like thorns from her voice, making her sound way more intense than she intended to.

 He tensed up visibly at her sudden razor-edged tone and, even though she didn't want to, she had to ease the situation. I can’t piss off these bastards again, she kept repeating to herself like a mantra. “Boys will be boys!” she said, not being able to think of something better that wasn’t inherently insulting, and laughed the most disgusting laugh of her life. If she could she would pour gasoline down her throat just for uttering those words.

 She couldn’t bear to linger at that conversation point anymore so she turned her attention to the man sitting on the far left. He looked distant and foreign, staring but not really looking at her. There was a peculiar absence behind his distinct green eyes, which she would even call beautiful under different circumstances. And that, something about that absence, made her want to zero in on him.

“And what about you? Did you win an Oscar or something?” mockery ringed clear in her voice, which brought his attention back to the presence. Startled slightly, he straightened his posture while saying, “No, not really... not yet at least,” he smiled sheepishly and continued, “I’m just here with them”.

“Come to think about it, I’ve never really seen you anywhere,” she said without thinking too much. In fact, she didn’t really pay enough attention to how he looked to recognize him even if she did. 

Something intense flashed his eyes for a brief second. She couldn’t quite put her fingers on what it was but she could feel the energy shift very quickly between them.

“Oh I’ve been in things but I’d be surprised if you did see any of them,” his voice now stripped of the delicacy it previously held. She could feel the air between them getting unusually heavy, his words penetrating through her skin a bit too effortlessly, a bit too swiftly that it was unsettling.   

“And why exactly would you be surprised?”

“You know...cause people like you don’t usually watch the kind of films I do.”

“What do you mean by ‘people like me?’”

“You know...people of your...stature,” he trailed off. Blood rushed the back of her neck as soon as the words hit her ears. She could feel her vision burning, a hot wave washed the crown of her skull, something unruly building at the base of her being. Clenching her jaw so as not to let it take over her, she said, “Stature huh? Fancy! I reckon from your accent that, wherever the hell you’re from, people get a kick out of looking down on others with such wispy language.”

 She could sense the same unruly substance dancing behind his chest, but he was far better at keeping it on a leash.

“I wasn’t looking down upon you. What I was merely getting at is that some people aren’t cut for apprehending particular types of films,” he sounded snarky but calm, the type of calm that’s tainted with scorn, which only sent ripples of rage down her ribs.

  “Oh so you think just because I’m a stripper by profession that I wouldn’t understand your low-budget dumb indie movies?” she was getting visibly worked up now. Traces of her seductive posture vanished long ago but there was a new hostile energy flowing through her stance.

“I didn’t say that -”

“No, of course you didn’t say that, you only meant that. You meant what you think and every one of you think that we aren’t people with brains and emotions. No, no, we’re just sacks of meat to ogle at in exchange of money, and then grope when you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I think you're trying to put words in my mouth, this is -”

“God! you think you’re fucking better than me, don’t you? You contrarian little shit!” she could feel it in her bones. She knew what was coming. There were people behind, or maybe beside, her, trying to talk to her, probably. She could hear no one, not even the previously unbearable blaring music. She had tunnel vision and it was fixed on him. The air she breathed chafed her nose. Her nerves thumped as her heart leapt at irregular rapid intervals.

  “Excuse me! but i neve -” he said as his body went alert. Posture anticipating something violent, flight or fight.

  “You think you're better than me because I'm a stripper and you got enough money to buy me?” her voice was icy as she spoke, “You LA people are all the fucking same. You get a little money in your pockets and you think you own the world and anyone who isn’t jerking off to your pretentious bullshit isn’t worthy enough to deserve basic fucking decency. Huh is that it?” she quickly jumped on top of him, straddling him.

He was frozen under her as she leaned in and murmured, “Well then allow me to show you”, she pulled away, her left hand clutching his shoulder as right fist rose the air, “HOW FUCKING BETTER THAN ME YOU ARE!” then her fist crashed on the side of his mouth with all the force she could muster, releasing a knot built in her chest since she checked in with the manager in the evening. Hot, sweltering adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

 The impact resulted in him burying his face in his right shoulder so she grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to face her. His lips were starting to swell up so she decided to help it. His eyes went blank as her fist met his face once more.

 Involuntarily, her hand was raising in the air again when she felt a strong pull from behind. The security guard, twice her size, yanked her away from him. People gathered around them staring at her, the music stopped to her relief. The guard twisted her arms behind her back, enough to leave bruises that’ll sting for days to come. She couldn't move, her sight went hazy yet she felt this strange cool serenity soothe her tensed muscles. His friends were crowding him, probably consoling him. She could neither hear them nor make out their faces from her almost closed eyelids. She was pretty sure she was falling asleep in the guard’s painful hold until she heard a certain voice and the hair at the back of her neck stood up. 

“What the fuck! She’s at it AGAIN? Sir, I'm so sorry -” Sam, the manager’s voice pierced her ears as he rushed into the booth. As he was talking to them, commotion rose in the background. She could feel blind rage beating with every thump of her heart. If it wasn’t for the guard holding her in place, she would have skinned him alive by now. She was struggling to free herself when Sam turned to her and said, “You! That’s it!” pointing his left index at her. “I’ve had just about enough of your drunkass assaulting fine gentlemen. You’re fired. Get out right now! And be grateful we’re not reporting you to the police.”

Suddenly everything went quiet in her head. She smiled, nothing behind her gaze. Grinning ear to ear like a maniac, she said, “I’m fired? Aww what’s gonna happen to you now Sam?”. She cooed, ''Whose tits and ass are you gonna grab from now on? Stella? I wonder if she’ll compare to me though.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sam almost hissed at her.

“Ohhh right! Of course, you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said while still tussling with whatever little strength she had left to loosen herself from the guard’s excruciating grip. “You don’t know anything about how you sexually harassed me day after day, how your disgusting, slimy little hands grabbed my body against my will at every chance that you got. You knew how much I need the money from this job and you used that against me to keep me silent, threatening to fire me every time I made even a sound. But guess what fucker? I’m fired now! And I’m gonna tell everyone about HOW YOU TRIED TO -”

“Take her to the staff room!” Sam cut her off, “NOW!” And, as soon as the words left Sam's mouth, the guard put his palm over her mouth and started dragging her back. The hand over her mouth muffled her screams and she glanced at the man, now with swollen lips, looking at her with eyes filled with, what looked like, concern.

As she was getting dragged, she finally managed to sink her teeth into the guard’s palm resulting in him withdrawing his hand just enough to give her a small window of time to scream at Sam: “YOU MOTHERFUCKER I’LL BE BACK AND I’LL PEEL THE SKIN OFF OF YOUR SCALP FUCKING SON OF A BITCH I’LL -” Before she could finish, her voice got cut off again and she faded into the dimly lit passageway at the back of the floor.

------------

The cherry of her fifth cigarette shone brightly in the shivering cold as the smoke drifted up in the air and sluggishly faded away. Mouth agape, her eyes meticulously followed the faint trails left after their disappearance. She wondered where they went, where she’ll go. If it wasn’t this late, and the water wasn’t so cold, maybe she could have gone for a swim in the ocean. If the water wasn’t so cold maybe she would have let it swallow her even. She was calculating the probable temperature of the hypothetical water she’d marry someday when the sound of slow approaching footsteps entered her field of perception. She would have preferred to ignore it but the, somehow already familiar, voice spoke up, “Hey erm...” and left her no choice but to look. And there he was, the foreign man with the swollen lip, looking culpable. There were distinct imprints of guilt in his voice as he continued, “I saw you across the parking lot…um I was actually just leaving with my friends,” he pointed at a black Mercedes parked at the far end of the lot. “They’re waiting in the car anyway so I decided -”

“So you decided now that she’s fired from being a stripper, she's probably a hooker! Lemme go ask the price she’s selling at,” her gestures and voice was comical, “you know, dude if you’ve got a kink of getting beaten up non-consensually then you’re really good at getting it cause I might just be up for round two.”

He stared at her for a good few seconds with a perplexed face, as if trying to process her stream of logic. When he started speaking, he sounded genuinely hurt, “No! Jesus Christ I came to apologize. Can you just not be defensive for one second? I’m not a monster ya know!”

His sincerity caught her off guard. She had about five thousand ways of dealing with assholes prepared and ready to go but an actually decent person? Now that was rocky territory for her.

“Well, uh, that’s a first. Go ahead I guess?” she shrugged her shoulders.

“I apologize for saying what I said back in the club. I shouldn’t have insinuated that you aren’t intelligent enough to understand my films just because of your choice of profession. It was really shitty of me to say that, and nothing can justify it either. And I feel like I caused you to be fired, that’s also weighing heavily on my soul and I don't know how to make it up to you. Just, I hope that you can forgive me and, again, I apologize, earnestly. Please tell me how I can make it up to you,” he said and looked at her with a rueful expression.

She was at a loss of words. It had been years since anyone apologized to her, let alone that sincerely. After a considerable amount of silence, she gathered her fragmented thoughts and spoke up, “Whoa, whoa man, chill. You didn’t murder my family or anything so calm down,” she held up her open palms, the cigarette almost at it’s end. “Apology accepted, okay? And don’t feel bad, I would have been fired sooner or later given my questionable behavior ever since I joined, so it’s not on your conscience. And I’m sorry too,” her index and middle finger holding the cigarette gestured at his lips, “for, um, punching you so let’s call it an even.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “yeah okay,” sounding clearly more relaxed than before.

“You know it’s a miracle how long it took for me to get fired,” she mused, “oh no it wasn’t a miracle it was sexual harassment, ah I see now. Wonder what Sam saw in me though that was worth not firing me for this long even though I pulled so much shit,” she took a long drag of her weary cigarette. “Maybe I've got a talent for getting harassed or something...who knows?”

His face tensed up again as he said, “That’s...not right,” eyes pooling with the same worried look as before.

“I was joking, chill. Humor is an excellent way to deal with most everything really, especially trauma.”

“I am sorry for what you had to go through, it’s gut-wrenching. Can’t you lodge a complaint to the police?”

“Going to the pigs? As a sex worker? Who just got fired for being drunk and punching a man in front of many eye witnesses? Now that was humor, you’re quite good at it actually.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Besides, that’s like one of the first things you gotta learn to put up with if you’re working in this business. As unfair and grim as it is, men, no actually, people don’t see sex workers as human beings and I’m just too obstinate to accept that simple fact, or maybe too much of a pussy, depending on where one’s priorities lie.”

“I…don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing to say.”

 It was just setting in for her how beautiful he actually was. His crestfallen face was graced by two stunning green eyes, lush unruly curls sticking to his forehead, sharp jawline kissed with a  scruffy goatee and the swollen lip throwing off the symmetry just right to make him look captivating, to say the least. In the chilly December ambience his face was a soothing sight to her eyes, his sweet voice kind to her drudging ears, his presence warm to her existence. And she wanted to hold onto the warmth, just for a bit longer.

   “You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?” she said as the cigarette fell on the ground then died out under the crushing embrace of her cruel heels.                         

------------

“Well I'm Ro -” he said leaning against the passenger seat window, sitting half facing her.

“If you’re trying to say your name then don’t,” she cut him off quickly without averting her gaze from the road.

“Why?” he asked, staring at her intently yet without any emotion in particular.

“‘Cause it doesn’t matter. It’s better if we don’t know each other’s name. Names individualize people and that’s not necessary for tonight,” she answered nonchalantly as the neon lights of a passing by road sign illuminated her face and then faded into the past just as nonchalantly. 

“Okay.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but it didn’t bother her, it wasn’t tainted. There was this unusual tranquility in the atmosphere of the car, this obscure but consistent serene rhythm. She felt a bizarre comfort in his presence and she could drive like this forever, on a never-ending road spiraling towards heaven or winding down pandemonium or just dissolving into the ether, with him sitting lazily on the side.

    “Do you ever feel like that?” he spoke up absentmindedly, breaking into her almost fever dream.

“Huh?”

“The song, I feel like that often.”

She didn’t realize the radio was on, playing at quite a significant volume. She wondered if he had turned it on at some point and how long she was driving for without being present mentally.

This place will be the end of me. Take me out, LA. Take me out of LA, the voice from the radio filled the car to the brim.

 “I don’t feel like that, I know that. I know I'll die here, kinda intrinsically...do you hate this place?”

“No, not hate. I just feel like I don't fit in here. It’s the way of life, it’s quite significantly different to what I was used to. The people and the city, it all feels hollow sometimes and every now and then i catch myself yearning for what I left behind me.”

“I see. Beautiful people and their beautiful problems.”

    Silence fell in the car again. Except for the voice through the radio, Well this place is never what it seems.

 “You don’t have to make small talk, you know. I'm fine with silence,” she said, finally looking at him for a brief second.

“Oh I know,” he was looking right into her eyes, unruffled. “I wasn’t making small talk, I just wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

------------

The bleak fluorescent tube above buzzed in solidarity as the fatigued clock on the chipped convenience store wall dragged its hands and finally managed to tick at 2 am. The attendant was leaning on the counter, trying not to fall asleep when her voice echoed in the store: “$20 on pump 2.”

“I’ll pay”, he cut in, reaching for his wallet. “Okayyy...” she replied, narrowing her eyes at his benevolence and looked around the store which was significantly emptier that other nights. She closed her eyes for a second and the memories flashed behind her lids. She used to come here frequently, around this time, with someone when everything in her world was right, just right enough for her to not to seek out falling stars every night and wish for death over and over again. When she opened her eyes a shiny pack of Parliaments caught her gaze and she quickly gestured behind the counter, “Since you’re paying, can I get a pack of those also?”

“Sure”

“I remember surviving on those alone while writing my thesis papers,” she said wistfully, “good times.”

“You went to college?”

“University actually, but yeah.”

“Good lord.”

“But I had to drop out so I couldn’t complete my Master’s in Biochemistry.”

“Why?”

“Life.”

“I flunked out my first year of college so you did way more than I did in that regard.”

“Welp, look where that got me.”

“Don’t say that!”

“What?” she scoffed.

“Anything else?” the attendant interjected, visibly tired and clearly annoyed at their conversation.

She swiftly grabbed a lighter, “Can I get this too?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“That’ll be all,” she tossed the lighter towards the attendant and continued, “You’re clearly doing way better than me in life.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I meant that seriously. I’m the one who fucked up my life and that’s a fact. Say, how did you know what you wanted to do?”

“That’ll be $30”, the attendant interjected again.

“I don’t know. I started acting as a kid and it just seemed right. It’s all I've known really and I can't see myself as anything else,” he said as he passed the money to the attendant.

“I envy that.”

“I do sometimes ponder what I would have been if not an actor.”

“Wondering too much isn’t good,” she grabbed the goods and shoved them in her coat pocket, “It might make someone into me.”

She stopped right before the glass door, pulled the lighter out and flicked it on, “I’ll use it later,” she leaned in close to him with a frivolous smirk and whispered, “to burn this city down.”

He chuckled at her sudden gaiety, “I’d gladly assist.”

Pushing the door open, she continued as he followed behind her, “Did you see the way that dude rolled his eyes to you? He definitely thought you were with a blabbering hooker and to be honest, my make up probably didn’t help either. Oh well it's not like -” her voice slowly evaporated into the gloomy gas-station lights. 

------------

“So beautiful,” he said with awe looking over the vast and apparently endless ocean which the full, eternal moon bathed with its silver glory.

She clutched at her coat sleeves as the chilly wind sent shivers down her body and said, “I know right? I’ve always found the sea to be peaceful during this time of the night.”

“It’s lovely, I’ve never been to this beach before.”

“It’s my favorite spot actually, I used to come here pretty often,” melancholia dripping from her voice. She paused for a little while as if going over a mental checklist and said, “let’s go sit down there,” and pointed towards a vague place in the distance. 

They walked down the beach for a bit side by side, knuckles occasionally brushing against each other’s, making them want to hold hands, feel the warmth of another being. But the hesitance of the yet to be known, the uncertainty of a nameless stranger clouded their minds and prevented them from reaching out.

She stopped, sat down and gestured to him to do the same by tapping the cold sand beside her. He sat a bit too far for her liking so she huddled up closer to him saying, “You blaze right?”

“Sure.”

“Cool,” she said, taking out a small bag from an inside pocket of her coat, “keep an eye out for me while I roll it.”

They sat in silence as she rolled a joint meticulously. The waves kept crashing on the shore as if fulfilling some ancient duty. Wind rustled through the empty beach. Sand glimmered sporadically under the warm light of the moon, creating a transcendental atmosphere.

He sighed and thought out loud, interrupting the intoxicating stillness of the night, “Where do we go from here?”

“Other than plotting the murder of Sam, I don’t know about me,” she replied without looking up from the task at hand, “Don’t really wanna think about it tonight. That’s why I took you along with me. I wanted someone to keep me distracted from my thoughts and I had no one to go to...then you came to apologize, like my knight in shining armor.”

He smiled wryly and said, “I see.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do about your not fitting in or what was it?”

“I don’t know either. I just miss my people. I’m not meant for here, I think.”

“So can’t you go back there? To your home I assume?”

“I can...”

“Then go. Why the fuck would you stick around if you had the option to go back?”

“Maybe.”

“Huh! I wish I had a home to go back to too.”

She could see him from the corner of her eyes, clenching his knees tight with his fingers at her words, bringing them closer to his chest. She looked up to see him staring at her with his big, beautiful, hurt-puppy eyes.

“Did that make you sad or something?” she asked, almost amused. 

“Yeah...yeah it did.”

His apparent empathy for a literal stranger who also punched him not so long ago struck her as odd and oddly enticing. He looked unreal to her in the strange moonlight, as if a remote but vivid memory. She felt as though if she reached out and touched him, he’d turn to dust and drift off with the wind. Those intense eyes and his fey beauty were getting too much for her to bear so she averted her gaze towards the ocean and said, “There’s no use for your or anyone’s sadness. You see, sadness changes nothing. Unless you can start a capital R revolution tomorrow, everything will be the same. It’ll be the same day with slight variations over and over again, things will repeat and go on and on and on until one day humanity just goes poof somehow and then the universe will go on as if we never even happened. There’s no significance of our lives, there’s no point in feeling sad about anything in this set up. One must always imagine Sisyphus happy.”

“That’s quite pessimistic, isn’t it?”

“Kinda absurdist actually, but It’s hard not to be pessimistic or defensive, when you have to lead a life like mine.”

“I understand.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, “Glamour Boy,’” she said, licking the rolling paper.

He put his hand over his chest and feigned being hurt which made her laugh; a clear, hearty laughter. The beach echoed with a faint sound of the laughter of two stray souls as he joined in.

The joint hanged from her lips, sensual and reckless like an erotic magazine model, burning bright as she took a long drawn-out drag.

“Say, do you think the water is cold?” she said, passing the joint to him.

He took in a drag, inhaling some of her used up smoke with it too, tasting her cheap but obscenely sweet fruity lip gloss at the filter tip, “Yeah...very much so”.

She huddled up even closer to feel the heat of his body as he passed the joint back to her. Taking in another drag, she leisurely put her head on his shoulder.

The sedating smoke sank into their lungs as the sand anchored them from floating off in the elating static of the enveloping darkness.

------------

“Is this it?” she said, pulling up to a posh apartment complex, something she wouldn’t be able to afford even after paying off her debts. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied absently and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

She was looking ahead at the road, expecting him to get out of the car, but he sat in silence. She looked at him and saw him laid back on the seat as if being consumed by it, tracing the edge of the left air vent softly with his fingers. He sighed and said, still looking at his busy fingers: “I feel strange and fucking awful.”

“It happens sometimes after coming down a high.”

“It’ll be a pain in the arse going to bed feeling like this.”

“I know,” her eyes travelled down the flow of his posture, giving birth to an urge of some aboriginal origin in her loins, “but you don’t have to.” 

He turned his head towards her slowly, lethargy clear in his slow breathing pattern, “What do you mean?”

“Push your seat back.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He furrowed his brows, alarmed by her sudden gratuitous command. He looked at her; motionless as if not even breathing awaiting his compliance and her eyes glinted with expectancy. He pushed his seat back, as far as it could go then parted his lips to say something but before the words could get out, she virtually jumped on top then sat astride him.

 A deathly stillness engrossed the car as her previous bellicose energy returned to the atmosphere, only this time rather ardent in nature. His heart, instantaneously racing, almost audible to her. 

“You know,” she said taking off her top, “dopamine is a hormone and neurotransmitter that’s an important part of your brain’s reward system, and it can elevate your mood and make you feel really good.”

Eyes wide with surprise, he struggled to keep his gaze fixed on her face as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingertips snaked up and down his smooth chest as if caressing a sumptuous painting one is not allowed to touch. She felt his taut muscle tighten at her touch, veins kindled with a hot rush pulsing under. Burying her face in the hollow of his neck, she felt the heat of his body as she pressed her chest against his. His breathing picked up it’s pace even more at the contact with her flushed skin.

“Do you ever get lonely?” she spoke up letting her lips skim over his bare shoulder.

“Terribly,” his voice breathy as he placed his hands on her hips hesitantly, not possessively, but affectionately.

“I do too.”

“What do we do about it?”

“Maybe we don’t do anything.”

“Maybe.” he said resting his right cheek against her head, “or maybe we keep each other company.”

“But for how long?”

“However long we need to.”

A mirthless laugh rippled from her lips then through his skin. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, curious green mixed with an unfamiliar kind of sorrow, a sorrow too costly for her. “Lust and attraction shut off the prefrontal cortex of the brain, which includes rational behavior,” she said, knocking softly on his temple.

“Makes sense.”

Cupping his face, she stroked his swollen lips with her rough thumbs, making him wince in response. The purple bruise steadily forming on the side of his mouth marred his flawless complexion yet his allure only enhanced. Her thumb rubbed on the bruise with reckless abandon, his flinches testifying to that. Withdrawing her hands from his face, she left a light peck on the bruise and said, “Slap me.”

“What?”

“Slap me, come on, I'm giving you a chance to get back at me for earlier.”

“No!”

“Prude!”

“Hey! I just don’t want to hurt you, especially not as revenge or what not,” he sounded genuinely offended.

She leaned in, “But I want to get hurt, silly,” her lips ghosting over his as she whispered, “Endorphins are our body’s natural pain reducer and it so happens to increase when we engage in reward-producing activities, such as eating, working out, or having sex.” She pulled away and continued, “So hit me. Hard.” His adam’s apple bobbed up then down as he searched at her face, as if trying to find some sort of sign. His fingers dug in her hips, indicating the upcoming crude impact. Her palms laid flat against his chest as his left hand rose then crashed against her face. Her fingers curled in response as she gasped weakly, eyes shut closed but the tensity clear in the lines on her eyelids and forehead. 

“Ah... that was good,” she said as if talking to herself, caressing her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring with uncertain eyes, the doubt readable in the way he bit his lips. 

“Just like that, once more,” her firm voice ringed in the vehicle. His hand cruelly collided once again with her face, leaving her face warm and red. 

“Good boy,” she cooed as the sharp sting eddied on her cheek and then through her whole body, easing her off some unknown yet intrinsic discomfort. Her chest pounded in sync to his as she spoke up, “Do it for me once again, won’t you?”

Pressing his teeth even deeper into his lips, he struck her once again, with as much strength as he had. A white light flashed before her eyes, her ears ringed as she sat in silence for a bit. When her vision became clear, she held his face between her palms. Leaning closer, she rested her temple against his and murmured, “Such a good boy.”

Sweat dripped down as her nose grazed up the side of his neck, she could feel him growing hard through his pants. She buried her face in his curls and breathed in. He smelt sugary, sweet to the extent of almost making her nauseous. She whispered against his ear, “You’ve got a boner...it turned you on this much to hurt me?”

“It’s, um, n-not really that part it’s the -” he stammered in embarrassment.

 “Ugh men,” she cut him off and rolled her eyes playfully. “But since we’ve got a situation at hand, and you’ve been so good to me, I think you deserve some relief for yourself,” she said, tugging at his waistband. To which he responded eagerly, elevating his hips just enough so she could slip his pants off as much as possible. His head sank back into the headrest as her hands wrapped around his cock. Her hand gilded up and down his length as her other hand ran through his hair, pulling lightly. Resting his forehead on her shoulder, he quivered and moaned softly as she lovingly yet mercilessly worked on him. His breath hitched sharply as she stroked the tip of his cock with her thumb, making him groan and twitch under her touch. She was about to pick up the pace when he grabbed her wrist abruptly. “Wait!” he rasped, “I wanna...feel you.”

He panted, trying to catch his breath and said, “Let’s take this inside, there might be people around.”

“Why? Are you afraid of getting photographed with a hooker by the paparazzi, Mr. Actor?"

“No”, he answered, the same hurt as earlier could be heard in his voice, the type of hurt when one is misunderstood by someone they love, “I just - I just want it to be nice.”

“Let’s not make it too nice lest you fall in love with me,” she said sternly. “Besides, you should be more concerned about getting STDs. There should be some condoms in the glove box and also tissues for later.”

He brought his face closer to hers, looked at her lips and said, “You’ve got such a mean mouth, you know that?”

“And you like it?”

“Perhaps”, he replied then kissed her, deeply. Holding her face in his head, he bit her lips which made her moan in his mouth. After running out of breath she pulled away, still tasting his saliva on her tongue as he reached behind her and rifled through the glove compartment. Having found what he wanted, he turned on the radio then returned his focus to her; she was hiking up her dress and awkwardly slipping off her panties in the short space.

Heavy bass filled the car, I wanna be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust, as the sky started to light up with shades of azure and tangerine. Her tongue blended with his as she took his cock in her. Their bodies pressed and flushed against each other as a steady rhythm flowed through them. Her nails scratched his nape, as he kissed her neck, nibbling at her collarbone. Her head shot back as he thrust up into her, frantic and keen. His groans muffled in her chest, her moans melting into his hair as their hips clashed against one another.

Maybe I just wanna be yours.

I wanna be yours.

------------   

The sparkling rays of the breaking dawn illuminated his face as he cleaned himself off and got dressed. She marveled from the driver’s seat at the magnificence of the sight of him in afterglow. There was something in him, something innate, that made him stand out from anyone she ever came across. He was made for the screen, he was made to shine, and she wondered whether or not he’ll remember her afterwards. It was for the better if he didn’t, she thought to herself, as this was probably one of the lowest points in his life, while that night was most definitely one of the highlights of hers. The sheer dichotomy was glaring at her soul when he spoke up, bringing her attention back to the present, “I was wondering if you’d like to -”

“Look if you want my name or number, then that’s just not gonna happen,” she said with a sigh, “It’s the oxytocin flooding your brain. Increased levels of oxytocin facilitate attachment and bonding and shit so, like, don’t be fooled.”

“But it’s not that, I feel a connection between us...something I haven’t felt with anyone here before.”

He averted his eyes from her and looked out the window. His hand lingered on the door handle for a second before he stepped out of the car. Turning his back towards the car, he walked into the apartment complex, without saying anything further. Her foot pressed on the accelerator, as the car drove past the buildings. A Parliament washed out the leftover taste of him in her mouth as she rolled down the window to let the nauseously sweet scent dissipate into the cold morning air. 

“It is that. Believe me, I know. There is nothing between us. Whatever connection you feel is your hormones doing bullshit things.”

“You’re just evading me”

“I’m not. I do actually know. Okay, for instance you feel really tired and sleepy right now, right?”

“Yeah”

“That’s the parasympathetic nervous system down-regulating your body and a shit load of vasopressin coursing through you”

“But that could also be because we stayed up all night and got high and just had sex”

“Why don’t you understand? It’s all chemicals, everything! There is nothing called love and whatever the fuck people feel is just their chemicals doing somersaults. There is nothing between us, we don’t know each other. There can be nothing either, look at the circumstances. People like you shouldn’t have to do anything with people like me unless it requires a monetary transaction.”

“But i can help, with whatever you’re dealing with”, he said reaching to place his hand over hers, “we can help each other”

“and what exactly do you think i’m dealing with?, she asked, withdrawing her hand, eyes narrowed at him.

“I don’t know yet”

“Exactly. You don’t know anything. I’m not some sad little girl who went to college then got depressed but in a sexy way so maybe she did drugs or whatever and dropped out and now strips for fucking aesthetic reasons probably. No honey, I’m involved with shit that can drag you down faster than a meth withdrawal and my life is a living testimony of that, take my word for it. So, go get some rest. Sleep out your saviour complex and live out your promising life when you wake up.”

#robert sheehan x reader smut #robert sheehan x reader #robert sheehan smut #robert sheehan imagine #robert sheehan fanfic #robert sheehan #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader smut #misfits #nathan young #nathan young x reader #nathan young x reader smut #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves smut #tua imagine #tua klaus #tua #klaus hargreeves imagine #nathan young misfits

[rikumorimachisgirl]

Title: Eyes on you

Pairing: Shaw x You

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2,901

A/N: You (Y/N) are not the MC in MLQC. This is a plunny that's been bugging me for quite a while, I had to write it. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own MLQC or its characters, but I do own the concept of this fic.

There were a few mysteries in this world that the esteemed Archeology Graduate Professors at Loveland University can't explain - for instance, the formation of the Stonehenge, the exact location of the lost city of Atlantis, the origin of the Nazca lines… and your presence at the Metro Art Gala dressed to the nines, positively gleaming as you strode arm in arm with your classmate and Thesis partner Shaw, who seemed like the perfect gentleman that evening. Thanks to your work at the Loveland Museum, you scored two invites to the gala featuring the recently discovered works of a well-known artist - an event any Archeology fanatic wouldn't let pass. The two of you walked along with LFG's Exhibition Hall, pausing occasionally to admire one of the recently discovered sculptures by the Renaissance artist D'Romani. As you both looked at the intricacies of the artwork in front of you, your charming companion would lean in slightly and whisper something in your ear, causing you to roll your eyes or stifle a giggle. 

To the guests in the prestigious gala, the two of you looked like two young people at the cusp of falling in love, but the members of the Faculty of the Graduate School of Archeology saw it differently - this was a real-life mystery if they'd seen one. 

As your eyes swiftly swept through the entire room, you could see that your professors only had one question in mind - how'd this happen? How did two people as different as day and night, who argued with each other throughout Graduate studies, end up amiably enjoying each other's company tonight? 

You drew a sharp breath and sighed. The answer was simple: Your Thesis defense was right around the corner. You needed him to cooperate, you were willing to go to great lengths to make it happen. And your Thesis partner (unfortunately) was ready to take full advantage of the situation. 

***

"Tell me why we're doing this again, " you said through the door that separated you and your date, as you were putting on the dress you bought (or invested on, as he casually stated) for tonight's gala, which he insisted on attending with you. It was six in the evening on a Friday, and you had just arrived home after cramming your workload at the Loveland Museum and foregoing your meal breaks just so you could leave work at exactly five-thirty. 

"I already told you a couple of times - you want me to cooperate with you so you can pass our Thesis, and I need a reason to be around her," the purple-haired man waiting at the other side of your bedroom door called out nonchalantly. "You can drop your fantasy about me asking you out because I'm attracted to you."

You hissed silently at his snarky remark and counted to ten. You haven't even left your apartment yet you already wanted this night to be over. "How do you even know she's gonna be there?"

She - the Miracle Finder Producer, the object of your Thesis Partner's fantasies, and as fate would have it, his brother's girlfriend. 

"They're doing a show featuring our Thesis adviser. Didn't he tell us about it during our last consultation?" He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I wasn't listening," you shot back, as you took off your ponytail and started styling your hair with your curling iron. You chose a one-shoulder fitted black dress that stops right above your knees, so you thought of wearing your hair down for a change. 

"Ah, yes. You were too busy looking at your notes, trying to prove me wrong as always."

You closed your eyes, as you continued to make big beach waves and prayed to the gods you wouldn't commit murder tonight. 

"How much longer are you gonna take?"

"Excited much?" You asked, smirking while you now removed your glasses and put on your contacts. "You sound like a teenager excited to see his crush in a school fair!"

"Don't compare me to you!" 

"I don't have designs on anyone in the party," you called back. "Unless your brother's attending the event, that is. From what you've been telling me, he seems like a great guy."

Silence. You arched an eyebrow as you strained your ear to listen for any sign of life outside your bedroom door. What must your grunge-rock skater boy-turned-date-for-the-evening be thinking? 

"Do you want to pass our Thesis or not?"

You struck a victory pose at his remark. Finally, one point - you, Shaw - about twenty. 

"Are you done yet? This suit is really uncomfortable. Damn, why do people even wear these?"

"Because they're decent?" You shot back. "You know, you can always go home if you're not comfortable in your attire because when we get there, you need to act decent, too. Can't have your usual swagger in a formal affair."

"Just hurry it up already!"

You rolled your eyes as you applied your nude-colored lipstick to finish off your look before putting on your black stilettos, and stuffing your phone, wallet, and your makeup in your purse. 

"All done," you replied, as you finally emerged from your room. 

***

A part of you wished that the dynamics between you and Shaw were different. While he was a pain in the neck, and too carefree for his own good, you also thought he made for a good intellectual sparring partner, quite attractive, and it was hard to deny that he's got your heart beating double-time whenever he got too close for comfort like he was at that very moment. 

"My, you two kids seem to be having fun tonight."

You gasped, at the sound of the voice behind you, and you felt your date nudge you ever-so-subtly while straightening.

"Hey, Professor Adler," he said in his usual unruffled tone, his lips stretched into a smirk as he held his hand out to your Anthropology professor and Thesis adviser, who watched you both amusedly. His gesture made your eyes shot wide open, you thought they'd fall right off. Shaw shaking someone's hand? That's one for the books. 

"Shaw. Fancy seeing you here," the stout middle-aged man greeted while shaking your date's hand. "This isn't your usual scene though."

"Yeah, I know, but I can't exactly turn a pretty lady down, can I?" 

"I can see that," your professor said as he looked at you appraisingly. "Well, well, you clean up well, Miss (y/n)."

You fought the urge to squirm at the older man's words when you heard your date cluck his cheeks with his tongue and suddenly felt his arm around your shoulders, pressing you protectively close to his side. 

***

"All done!" You happily announced as you stepped into the living room of your small apartment where your date was impatiently waiting for you. 

You could've sworn he was stunned for a second or two before he shook his head and tried to regain his usual impassive expression. Finally, he stood and walked closer to assess you better. 

"You're not wearing your glasses. I thought you said you're practically blind without them?" 

You cocked your head to one side. Out of all the things he could've complimented or called out, that's the first thing he noticed? 

"Wouldn't it look awkward if I wore glasses to a formal event?"

"Your hair is all curly," he continued as if you didn't say anything. "And your shoes are so tall, won't you trip? Also, surely you have a jacket to go with that dress, right?" 

You stared at him in disbelief. Why did this carefree, bass-playing skater boy turn into your dad all of a sudden? 

"Uh…"

"Well, at least you're not wearing red lipstick. You don't have to try too hard to look sexy. Geez! I've got plans of my own this evening, so don't expect me to be your bodyguard," he continued to mumble as he circled around you. Before long, you felt something warm and heavy on your shoulder. His coat?

"It's just until we get to the venue," he shrugged as he led you to the car he borrowed for tonight. "I don't want people seeing you freeze to death."

You sighed, your shoulders slumped as you followed your date to the car. You already expected he wouldn't throw you a compliment for looking like a proper human tonight, and you cursed yourself for feeling gutted over it anyway. 

 ***

"So, which one of these sculptures did you like best, Professor?" You sighed in relief as Shaw changed the subject, his arm still wrapped around you, making you blush furiously. 

"Oh, I have to say I liked Eros and Psyche best. In case you haven't seen it yet, it's located a little further down the hall near the bar area," the older man was starting to explain when someone tapped his shoulder from behind. 

"Excuse me, Professor Adler," a gentle voice called out, making both the professor and Shaw jump. From behind the old man, a pretty petite with brown hair and big brown eyes, and the biggest smile on her face stepped up. "My name is MC from Miracle Finder."

Almost immediately, Shaw withdrew his arm around you, almost causing you to stagger backward. He straightened up and feigned disinterest. 

"Hey. It's a little rude how you stepped in while I was talking to the Professor," he said, his tone teasing. 

"Oh, I didn't notice you here. Do you mind if I talk to your Professor? We've invited him for an interview about the exhibit," the girl said sweetly. 

Based on how unconsciously coy she acted around Shaw, and the way he kept egging her, there was no doubt that this was the girl he was crushing on. You felt like the odd person out all of a sudden and needed to step away. 

You backed away slowly, careful not to rouse their attention because it would probably suck if you knew how Shaw would introduce you to his little crush. As soon as you were in a safe distance, you turned and walked aimlessly down the hall, pausing briefly at paintings or sculptures that caught your fancy, looking at its intricacies as you did so earlier. But somehow, it wasn't as fun as it was before, so you moved on quickly, to give way to the other guests who also wanted to view the artwork.

Finally, you came upon the bar and decided to rest your tired feet at the far corner, hidden from the rest of the world. Sighing, you slipped your feet off your stilettos and quietly watched as the guests around you - mostly couples - happily chatting away as they enjoyed the beauty of the art around them and the wonderful music that filled the air. You knew somewhere in the crowd, your date was fawning over his lady love, probably getting in the way of her filming your professor. 

Tch. 

You knew he liked her - he always told you he did. And why wouldn't he? MC was pretty, seemingly sweet, and dainty - the kind of girl any guy would like to protect. And you. You were the opposite. You lived for your work, were 'one of the boys', and didn't need anyone to protect you - that's just how you were - and now you started to realize that maybe guys don't exactly like that. At least not Shaw. 

Wait, what were you thinking? You scolded yourself as you shook your head. Why were you even thinking of what he liked when you don't even like him to start with. Or did you? 

"Ugh. What the hell is wrong with me?" You groaned when a cold bottle of beer and a frozen glass was placed in front of you. 

"I was gonna ask you that myself." 

You straightened up in your seat and shot a look at the guy seated beside you. Dressed in a nice grey suit, he smiled as he raised his beer bottle in front of you. 

"You look like you needed a drink. I hope the beer is okay. They don't have fruit beer or soda," he said calmly, his amber-colored eyes never leaving yours. 

"Y-yeah. Beer is perfect," you replied while pouring the amber liquid into the glass. "Thanks," you muttered before raising the glass to your lips to gulp down some liquid courage. 

"I saw you with Shaw earlier -"

The name on his lips drove you to a coughing fit, as you choked on your drink. "Sorry, " you mumbled in between coughs. 

"No, I'm sorry," the brown-haired guy said, as he cautiously and politely patted your back. "I didn't mean to bring that up. I was just curious."

"It's fine," you replied when you finally regained your composure. "Yes, we're just classmates in Grad school who decided to check this exhibit out for the heck of it."

"Classmates, huh?"

"Yeah, that's what we are," you said, taking a sip off your glass. "Grad school classmates."

"Are you telling me or telling yourself?"

You looked up and saw him smiling. There was something about Dreamy McHandsome who was seated beside you that felt so familiar yet different at the same time, but you couldn't point a finger at what it was exactly. 

"We're classmates, and we're working on our thesis together. But we're not friends - far from it even. We hate each other's guts."

"Can't blame you for doing so," he shrugged as he drank his beer. 

"Yeah. He dragged me here so he can get with someone he's been crushing on for so long," you rambled on, frowning. 

"Oh? And who might that be?"

"The Miracle Finder Producer. You know, the pretty girl in a blue top and white skirt. He's been going on and on about her for weeks…"

"You mean my girlfriend?" 

His girlfriend. You choked on your drink once again. "Y-y-your girlfriend? You mean to say…" You gasped. Has the beer made you stupid? You've barely drunk half of it, you thought as you fought to regain your dignity. This was Shaw's brother you were talking to - and boy, we're they blessed with good genes…

… And the same social awkwardness, you noticed, judging by how he kept his hand at your back, but not exactly touching it, as if trying to assess if he had to pat you or not. 

When you finally calmed down, he cleared his throat and gave you a small smile. "Don't worry. She talks to me about their conversations. I know what that guy is playing at, and I most definitely know he's not after my girl," he said, his voice broke no room for doubt. "My name is Gavin..."

"Yeah, I know…"

"You - what?"

"Oh," you said, tapping on your glass nervously. "Shaw kinda mentioned it in passing before."

"I see."

"So, what were you saying earlier about Shaw?"

"Oh. From what my girlfriend tells me, he's got his sights set on…"

"Ahem," you heard someone say loud enough for you and Gavin to turn your heads around. And there, standing behind you, was an angry-looking Shaw. You sat up, your gaze shifting between the two brothers as the air started to thicken with tension. "I talk to someone for a minute and the next thing I knew, my date walks out on me and right into the one person I'd hate for her to meet."

"Well, if you were just honest with her as with a lot of other things in your life, maybe she wouldn't have left your side earlier," Gavin retorted flippantly. "Is she finally done with filming?"

Shaw simply grunted in reply as he watched his older brother finish his bottle of beer and stand. "Well, Miss, there's a lot I've heard about you. Seems somebody couldn't stop talking about you, but I'll leave it at that." 

With a wink and a mischievous smile upon his face, the brown-haired guy sauntered off to look for his better half, as you and Shaw watched in awkward silence. 

He cleared his throat and glanced at you. "Hey."

"Hey," you replied, shakily. 

"So, about what that jerk said -"

"Yes?" You asked, feeling your heart hammer against your chest by the second.

"Whatever he said is not true," he said dismissively, as he took his coat off and draped it over your shoulders. "I told you before, I don't find you the least bit attractive."

You felt tears starting to sting your eyes, as he continued with his harsh commentary. "You're tough, highly opinionated, and you always want to come out on top. I don't find those attractive at all," he said. "I prefer a damsel in distress. I want someone clingy… someone, needy."

"I know that -"

"Oh do you?" He teased, his amber eyes twinkling. "You seem to know a lot about me."

"We've been working together for months now," you said. "Of course, I'd know more about you."

"I see," he said, as he took a step closer to you and touched your cheek, rubbing the stray tear that had managed to slip down the side of your face. "So, you must know I'm also a good liar. After all, I've kept all these feelings to myself for quite some time."

He snickered when he saw your frown deepen and he bent down just as he had done so earlier, to whisper. "I made you think I liked someone else when in fact," his low voice made you shiver. "I've always eyes for you."

The End.

#mr love queen's choice shaw #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mr love fanfic #mlqc shaw #shaw x reader #mlqc gavin #iris writes

[toscrollperchancetomeme]

Lestat de Lioncourt - A playlist

So, guess who made a Lestat Playlist (like there aren't enough already) and decided to sit down for 4-6 hours to find some excerpt corresponding with each song? Featuring 80s and 90s music (clearly showing my age...) as well as many european songs and showtunes. Enjoy!

1. Cathedrals – Ramin Karimloo (Original by Jump, Little Children)

In the cathedrals of New York and Rome There is a feeling that you should just go home And spend the lifetime finding out just where that is

And that was not a good year for me. I was wandering aimlessly. I was sick of things. I was furious with myself that the „beauty“ of life wasn't sustaining me, wasn't making my loneliness bearable.

I wanted to join them. Always do want to join them and never do. „Go home,“ he whispered. - Prince Lestat

(I actually feel like there are quotes that would correspond to this song in every one of the books and indeed have not yet found any other song that captures the general spirit of The Vampire Chronicles as perfectly.)

2. Edge of Seventeen – Stevie Nicks

Well, I went today Maybe I will go again tomorrow Yeah yeah, well, the music there Well, it was hauntingly familiar Well, I see you doing what I try to do for me With the words from a poet and a voice from a choir And a melody, and nothing else mattered

He sat next to me, hugging me and asking me why I was crying, and though I couldn't tell him, I could see that he was overwhelmed that his music had produced this effect. There was no sarcasm or bitterness in him now. I think he carried me home that night. And the next morning I was standing in the crooked stone street in front of his father's shop, tossing pebbles up at his window. When he stuck his head out, I said: „Do you want to come down and go on with our conversation?“ - The Vampire Lestat

3. I ain't scared of lightning – Tom McRae

No I ain't scared of lightning And thunder never killed I was born in a summer storm and I live there still

I wasn't part of the world that cringed at such things. And with a smile, I realized that I was of that dark ilk that makes others cringe. Slowly and with great pleasure, I laughed.

And the labor that brought it forth was rapture such as I have never known. - The Vampire Lestat

4. Junge Roemer – Falco (Young Romans – Full Translation)

Don't ask for new old values See white light, see only feeling The night is ours till morning We play every game Don't ever let this journey end The doing comes only from the being Only from dimensions, that Are worth illusions and sensations Give me more, give me more, give me more...

... and again she laughed. „Ah, but we are splendid devils, aren't we?“ „Hunters of the Savage Garden,“ I said. „Then let's go into Paris,“ she said. - The Vampire Lestat

5. Running up that hill – Candy Says (Original by Kate Bush

If I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building,

„Not even with Nicolas?“ „No, god, no!“ I looked at her. She nodded slightly as if she approved of this answer. „Why not with Nicolas?“ she asked. I wanted this to stop. „Because he's young,“ I said, „and he has life before him.“ - The Vampire Lestat

6. Florence – Notre Dame de Paris (Full Translation)

The little things always triumph over the large And literature will kill architecture The school books will kill the cathedrals The Bible will kill the Church, and man will kill God This will kill that

„I never lived in it. I push against the glass. But how do I get in?“ „I can't tell you that,“ I said. „You have to study this age,“ Gabrielle interrupted. Her voice was calm but commanding. He looked towards her as she spoke. „You have to understand the age,“ she continued, „through its literature and its music and its art. You have come up out of the earth, as you yourself put it. Now live in the world.“ No answer from him. Flash of Nicki's ravaged flat with all its books on the floor. Western civilization in heaps. - The Vampire Lestat

7. Go your own way – Fleetwood Mac

Loving you isn't the right thing to do How can I ever change things that I feel

If I could maybe I'd give you my world How can I when you won't take it from me

You can go your own way You can call it another lonely day

„Keep your promise,“ she said. And quite suddenly I knew this was our last moment. I knew it and I could do nothing to change it. „Gabrielle!“ I whispered. But she was already gone. - The Vampire Lestat

8. Désenchantée – Olympe (Original by Myléne Farmer - Full Translation)

If death is a mystery Life isn't exactly tender If heaven has a hell Then heaven can still wait for me Tell me how to handle this headwind Nothing makes sense anymore, nothing's fine

Laughter. That insane music. That din, that dissonance, that never ending shrill articulation of the meaninglessness... Am I awake? Am I asleep? I am sure of one thing. I am a monster. And because I lie in torment in the earth, certain human beings move on through the narrow pass of life unmolested. - The Vampire Lestat

9. A kind of magic – Queen

The bell that rings inside your mind Is challenging the doors of time It's a kind of magic The waiting seems eternity The day will dawn of sanity

And quite completely I understood that it was looking for me, this sound, it was seeking me out.

Blood like light itself, liquid fire.

It seemed beneath the roar of the flow he spoke. He said again: „Drink, my young one, my wounded one.“ I felt his heart swell, his body undulate, and we were sealed against each other. I think I heard myself say: „Marius.“ And he answered: „Yes.“ - The Vampire Lestat

10. La quête – Bruno Pelletier (French version of „The Impossible Dream“ from Man of La Mancha)

To try when your arms are too weary To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest To follow that star Ooh, no matter how hopeless No matter how far

I would remain in New Orleans if New Orleans could only manage to remain. Whatever I suffered should be lessened in this lawless place, whatever I craved should give me more pleasure once I had it in my grasp. And there were moments on that first night in this fetid little paradise when I prayed that in spite of all my secret power, I was somehow kin to every mortal man. - The Vampire Lestat

11. Wicked Game – Chris Isaak

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

Yet Louis gained a hold over me far more powerful than Nicolas had ever had. Even in his cruelest moments, Louis touched the tenderness in me, seducing me with his staggering dependence, his infatuation with my every gesture and every spoken word. - The Vampire Lestat

12. Do I disappoint you – Rufus Wainwright

Do I disappoint you, in just being human? And not one of the elements that you can light your cigar on Why does it always have to be fire? Why does it always have to be brimstone?

„And suppose the vampire who made you knew nothing, and the vampire before him knew nothing, and so it goes back and back, nothing proceeding from nothing, until there is nothing! And we must live with the knowledge that there is no knowledge!“ „Yes!“ he cried out suddenly, his hands out, his voice tinged with something other than anger.

And then I sensed it. He was afraid. Lestat afraid. - Interview with the Vampire

13. Ordinary World – Duran Duran

What has happened to it all? Crazy, some'd say Where is the life that I recognize? Gone away

But I won't cry for yesterday There's an ordinary world Somehow I have to find And as I try to make my way To the ordinary world I will learn to survive

I do not remember when it became the twentieth century, only that everything was uglier and darker, and the beauty I'd known in the old eighteenth-century days seemed more than ever some kind of fanciful idea. - The Vampire Lestat

14. I'm still standing – Taron Egerton (Original by Elton John)

And there's a cold lonely light that shines from you You'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use And did you think this fool could never win? Well look at me, I'm coming back again

But after the third night up, I was roaring around New Orleans on a big black Harley-Davidson motorcycle making plenty of noise myself. […] I was the vampire Lestat again. I was back in action. New Orleans was once again my hunting ground. - The Vampire Lestat

15. Catch my fall – Billy Idol

I have the time so I will sing, yeah I'm just a boy but I will win, yeah Lost song of lovers, fellow travelers, yeah Leave me sad and hollow out of words

It could happen to you so think for yourself If I should stumble, catch my fall, yeah

I've survived, obviously. I wouldn't be talking to you if I hadn't. And the cosmic dust has finally settled; and the small rift in the world's fabric of rational beliefs has been mended, or at least closed. I'm a little sadder for all of it, and a little meaner and a little more conscientious as well. - The Queen of the Damned

16. I want it all – Queen

I'm a man with a one track mind So much to do in one lifetime (people do you hear me) Not a man for compromise and where's and why's and living lies So I'm living it all, yes I'm living it all And I'm giving it all, and I'm giving it all

It is not enough any longer that my little rock band be successful. We must create a fame that will carry my name and my voice to the remotest parts of the world. - The Vampire Lestat

17. Let me entertain you – Robbie Williams

Hell is gone and heaven's here There's nothing left for you to fear Shake your arse come over here Now scream

I'm a burning effigy Of everything I used to be You're my rock of empathy, my dear

So come on let me entertain you

"I AM THE VAMPIRE LESTAT!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I stepped way back from the microphone, and the sound was almost visible as it arched over the length of the oval theater, and the voice of the crowd rose even higher, louder, as if to devour the ringing sound. - The Vampire Lestat

18. La bien qui fait mal – Mozart l'Opera Rock (Full translation)

I can feel a violent urge I feel like I'm sliding towards the ground If I don't find out where this plague is coming from I adore having it under my skin Bewitched by mad ideas Suddenly all my cravings take off The desire becomes my prison Until I loose my mind

Yet I was in her arms in this chilling darkness, in the familiar scent of winter, and her blood was mine again, and it was enslaving me. When she drew away, I felt agony. - The Queen of the Damned

19. Tainted Love – Soft Cell

And you think love is to pray But I'm sorry I don't pray that way Once I ran to you Now I'll run from you This tainted love you've given I give you all a boy could give you Take my tears and that's not living, oh

„What do you think I am that I am so easily swayed? I was born a Queen. I have always ruled; even from the shrine I ruled." Her eyes were glazed suddenly. I heard the voices, a dull hum rising. "I ruled if only in legend; if only in the minds of those who came to me and paid me tribute. Princes who played music for me; who brought me offerings and prayers. What do you want of me now? That for you, I renounce my throne, my destiny!" What answer could I make? - The Queen of the Damned

20. Dancing in the Dark – Ruth Moody (Original by Bruce Springsteen)

They say you gotta stay hungry Hey baby, I'm just about starvin' tonight I'm dyin' for some action I'm sick of sittin' 'round here tryin' to write this book I need a love reaction Come on now, baby, gimme just one look

"I want you to put the book aside and come join us," he said. "You've been locked in here for over a month." "I go out now and then," I said. I liked looking at him, at the neon blue of his eyes.

"Do you love me now?" I asked. He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. "Yes," he said. "Want to go on a little adventure?" My heart was thudding suddenly. It would be so grand if- "Want to break the new rules?" "What in the world do you mean?" he whispered. - The Queen of the Damned

21. I want you – Savage Garden

Oh, I want you, I don't know if I need you But oh, I would die to find out

"You don't think you'll be back?" he asked. "I think you will, whether I call or not." Another little surprise. A little stab of humiliation. I smiled at him in spite of myself. He was a very interesting man. "You silver-tongued British bastard," I said. "How dare you say that to me with such condescension? Maybe I should kill you right now."

I thought of David Talbot's face, and that moment when he'd challenged me. Well, maybe he was right. I'd be back. Who said I couldn't come back and talk to him if I wanted to? - The Queen of the Damned

22. Lay your hands on me – Bon Jovi

I'm a fighter, I'm a poet, I'm a preacher I've been to school, oh baby, I've been the teacher If you show me how to get up off the ground I can show you how to fly and never ever come back down

I sat down on the bed beside him. And then I bent down and kissed his face again gently, as I had in New Orleans, liking the feel of his roughly shaven beard, just as I liked that sort of thing when I was really Lestat and I would soon have that strong masculine blood inside. I moved closer to him, when suddenly he grasped my hand, and I felt him gently push me away. „Why, David?“ I asked him. He didn't answer. He lifted his right hand and brushed my hair back out of my eyes. „I don't know,“ he whispered. „I can't. I simply can't.“ - The Tale of the Body Thief

23. 20th Century Boy – Placebo (Original by T-Rex)

I move like a cat, charge like a ram Sting like a bee, babe, I wanna be your man, hey!

He drew back with a speed that astonished me, cleaving to the wall. „Don't do this, Lestat.“ „Don't fight me, old friend. You waste your effort. You have a long night of discovery ahead.“ - The Tale of the Body Thief

24. Way down we go – KALEO

Oh, Father tell me, do we get what we deserve? Whoa, we get what we deserve And way down we go

„In chains, to my friend and my scribe, I dictated these words. Come with me. Just listen to me. Don't leave me alone.“ - Memnoch the Devil

25. Personal Jesus – Depeche Mode

Reach out, touch faith

"Don't tell me," Gabrielle said slurringly, "that it's a matter of faith." She sneered and shook her head. "You come like doubting Thomas to thrust your bloody fangs in the very wound." "Oh, stop, please, I beg you," I whispered. I put up my hands. "Let me try, and let him hurt me, and then be satisfied, and turn away." - The Vampire Armand

26. Papillon – Editors

Darling Just don't put down your guns yet If there really was a God here He'd have raised a hand by now Now darling You're born, get old, then die here Well that's quite enough for me We'll find our own way home somehow

"And if I spill my blood down into this coffin now," Lestat asked her, "what do you think will come back? Do you think it will be our Louis that will rise in these burnt rags? What if it's not, chérie, what if it's some wounded revenant that we must destroy?" "Choose life, Lestat," she said. - Merrick

27. Sunday Light – Choir Boy

Why, why, why, are you silent on the ride home? I'd love to see the temple with you Heavenly and bright, golden angel twisted scathing You were one of us, one of us, one of us, you were one of us

"Then come, Little Brother, take me to where you want to talk," he said, and I felt the soft squeeze of his fingers on my arm. "Why are you so kind to me?" I asked him. "You're used to people being paid to do it, aren't you?" he asked. - Blackwood Farm

28. Für mich solls rote Rosen regnen – Hildegard Knef (It should rain red roses for me - Full translation)

It should rain red roses for me All wonders should encounter me The world should rearrange itself And keep its worries to itself

I want to be a saint. I want to save souls by the millions. I want to do good far and wide. I want to fight evil! I want my life-sized statue in every church. I'm talking six feet tall, blond hair, blue eyes- Wait a second. Do you know who I am? - Blood Canticle

29. Constant Craving – K. D. Lang

Even through the darkest phase Be it thick or thin Always someone marches brave Here beneath my skin And constant craving Has always been

I was hunting, thirsting though I didn't need to drink, at the mercy of the craving, the deep agonizing lust for heated pumping human blood. - Prince Lestat

30. Kalte Sterne – Jan Ammann (Cold Stars from the musical Ludwig² - Full translation)

Get up, ride home, on your horse, through your land Across the morning with your reins trailing behind you Build a castle like a dream, build it with mighty hands And it shall be named „future“

Build a castle like a dream Up from the ashes and close to the heavens Build a castle like a dream And realise the future as king

If we wanted to survive, if we wanted to inherit the millenia […] then we had to meet the future with respect as well as courage and count fear and selfishness to be small things. - Prince Lestat and the realms of Atlantis

31. C'est une belle journée – Mylene Farmer (Full translation)

I'm going to bed To bite eternity With my mouth wide open It's a beautiful day

And I felt the cold numbing shell of alienation and despair which had imprisoned me all of my life among the Undead – I felt that shell cracked, broken, and dissolved utterly into infinitesimal fragments. - Blood Communion

32. Princes of the Universe – Queen

Fly the moon and reach for the stars With my sword and head held high Got to pass the test first time, yeah I know that people talk about me, I hear it every day But I can prove them wrong 'cause I'm right first time

„I know that you meant full well to bring Rhoshamandes down, of course you did. But you had no way of knowing that you could. And no one would have predicted that you could. And with the willingness to die, you gave yourself over into his hands... and you disarmed him and destroyed him.“ – Blood Communion

And finally, because I can, a bonus track:

33. Primadonna – MARINA

And I'm sad to the core, core, core Every day is a chore, chore, chore When you give, I want more, more, more I wanna be adored

#the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #fandom playlist #lestat de lioncourt #prince lestat #prince lestat and the realms of atlantis #interview with the vampire #the vampire lestat #the vampire armand #memnoch the devil #the tale of the body thief #merrick #blackwood farm #blood canticle #blood communion #louis de pointe du lac #david talbot #marius de romanus #nicolas de lenfent #vc #tvc #iwtv #Spotify