#and then suddenly the memories come back and you have to go back to that isolating loneliness again where the only person you're close to

[kinardsevan]

i can see the sun

nobody asked for a mini where BuckTommy meet in 2x18, but my brain wrote it anyway? enjoy!

-

Tommy never mentions the first time they met, mostly because he doesn’t think Evan remembers it, and honestly he wouldn’t blame him. That night was—as Evan still defines it today—the worst night of his life, and the last thing Tommy ever wants to do is bring those painful memories back to the surface. Still, in the time since they’ve gotten together, he can’t help dwelling on it from time to time, thinking about the strength he’d seen in Evan that night, the determination. 

“Howie!” 

Chimney spins on his feet, looking around him until his eyes fall on Tommy’s muscular build, the waves of his light brown hair. 

“Tommy? What are you doing down here? It’s not safe-..” 

“I was down the street,” he explains. “Thought I could help.” 

Chimney turns, looks back at Hen and then Bobby, holding his hands out like he’s not entirely sure what the answer should be. 

“We’re gonna need the help to get it off of him,” Bobby states. He looks past his subordinates briefly and then back at them. “Chim, there’s a girl down there with her hand bleeding from twisted metal,” he states, pointing. “Hen?” 

She passes off the bag of IV fluids to Bobby that they’ve hooked up to Buck and Tommy looks around again before glancing down at the man on the ground, shaking his head. 

“What the hell,” he mutters to himself. He shifts backwards and drops down, getting in front of the blonde with curly hair, blood all over his face. “Hey, kid.” 

Buck lifts his head off the ground, groaning in pain as he looks up at him. Tommy reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezing tightly. 

“You gotta fight,” he tells him, running his thumb over Evan’s fingers. They’re cold, and he can see the paleness in his face. Buck groans again. 

“Let’s lift this,” Bobby states, glancing down at them. Tommy looks up at him and nods. 

“Alright, kid, you can do this,” he tells him. They both hear the count off, and then the attempted lift and Evan screams like bloody murder, trying to pull his leg free from where it’s pinned beneath the truck, but barely gains any traction before it’s down again. Tommy glances up at Bobby and shakes his head. “You gotta lift higher. 

“I-…I…” Buck’s voice is choked, pained cries falling out of him faster than he can do anything to stop them. Tommy reaches out and curls a finger under his chin, making him look up. 

“Hey kid, you gotta focus,” he states firmly. 

“M-ma-addie,” he stammers. 

Tommy shakes his head again. “Whatever you have to tell Maddie can wait.” Tommy looks around them again, sees everyone trying to problem-solve the situation. He glances back down at the kid in front of him. “What’s your name?” 

His head bobs up and down weakly and Tommy squeezes his fingers again. 

“E-Evan,” he stammers. Tommy nods. 

“We’re going to get you out of here, Evan,” Tommy tells him. “Just hold on.” 

“One more time guys, ready,” Bobby states. They lift again, and again Evan screams, trying to move and again gaining no traction. Tommy looks up at Bobby again, shaking his head once more. 

“It’s too heavy,” Bobby states, talking to people around them. Evan is gasping for air in front of Tommy, silent sobs coming out of him with the struggle for air. “We need more people.” 

Suddenly there’s a crowd of people lining around them, and Tommy looks back at Evan, brushing a calming hand down his hair. 

“Hang on Evan,” he states firmly. “They’ve got you.” 

“One, two, three!” 

He watches as they lift the truck, higher than they’ve been able to, high enough that he can see the clearance between Evan’s leg and the truck, and he tugs him forward until he’s free of it and the crowd is settling the truck back on the ground. Evan’s team crowds around him and Tommy steps back, moving out of the way. Bobby rests a hand on his shoulder and he looks up at him. 

“Thanks for your help,” he tells him before stepping past him, joining the rest of the 118 as they gather around Evan and move him onto a stretcher. He doesn’t voice it out loud, but holds the notion in the back of his head that in another life, he would’ve been the one pinned under the truck. 

. . . 

“Where’s your head at,” Evan murmurs, late one night as Tommy sets his book on the nightstand. He’s been doing that thing where he read the same page three times over and still didn’t digest any of the information. Tommy looks over at him and gives him a soft smile, lifting his hand to brush along one of the barely-there scars on his chin. 

“Just thinking about you,” he admits. Evan gives him an awkward smile, reaching up and pulling his hand away. 

“Should I be concerned,” Evan asks, adjusting the blankets on his lap. “You seem…distracted.” 

Tommy shakes his head dismissively. “No, no.” 

“Then what’s up,” Evan asks, curious. “Where’s your head at.” 

Tommy looks over at him, contemplatively. He narrows his gaze at Evan briefly before licking his lips. “Do you…remember? The first time we met?” 

Evan squints at him with a curious smirk. “Harbor hangar. Stealing helicopters to fly into a hurricane and break at least a dozen different laws.” He drawls on like it’s basic information. 

Tommy chuckles softly. “Sure.” He nods, biting his bottom lip briefly. “Except, no.” 

Evan still has that gaze on his face, like he’s not entirely sure where Tommy is going with this. “Okay?” 

Tommy takes a breath, lifting his hand to Evan’s chin again, looking at the scar once more. 

“I don’t mention it because I don’t ever want to put you in a painful memory,” he states, thumbing the scar. “But I was there for this.” 

Evan doesn’t need to see his face to know what Tommy is talking about. He stares at the older man for a time, clearly searching his memory, only to come up with nothing. 

“I don’t…?” 

Tommy nods. “You were already pinned under the truck, and I got on the ground with you so that Hen and Howie could help with the truck.” 

Evan’s gaze shifts around at Tommy’s words, still searching his memory. After a moment, he looks up at him. “I always thought I made up someone rubbing my head. I mean, Hen would hold my hand, but-..” 

“You didn’t,” Tommy tells him. He’s quiet for a moment, his expression somber. “I could tell you were getting close to giving up. You wanted to say something to Maddie, and I told you no.” 

Evan nods, having the vaguest recollection of that. He looks back up at Tommy. “But then you just vanished into the ether.” 

Tommy shrugs. “I sent flowers. And besides, you had a girlfriend.” 

Evan narrows his gaze at him again, but this time there’s mirth in his expression as he pushes himself up and slots a leg over Tommy’s hips, straddling him. 

“You mean to tell me I could’ve had you five years ago,” he states, moving his hands down to the hem of Tommy’s shirt, sliding his fingers beneath it. Tommy jolts at the iciness of his fingers. He smirks at Evan as he reaches for his hands, squeezing them. He leans forward, kissing along his jawline. 

“Wouldn’t have been nearly as fun then,” he replies. “We were both still figuring stuff out.” 

Evan pushes his hands further inside Tommy’s shirt, fighting against his loose grip to press his cold palms flat against his abs. Tommy growls softly, biting on his jaw. Evan settles back on his haunches and tilts his head, reaching out for one of Tommy’s hands. He brushes his fingers gently along the scars on his face, down to his chin, and then over his heart. 

“I love you,” Tommy murmurs, brushing his thumb back and forth on Evan’s chest. Evan leans into him, pulls him into a searing kiss as his hands find their way back under Tommy’s shirt with only one intention in mind. 

“I love you too.” 

[adoringhaikyuu]

wait omg i love ur stuff, can u mayyybe do one of the “they think you’re pregnant” ones for terushima, iwa, suga and ukai ?? <3

THEY THINK YOU'RE PREGNANT | 4

characters: iwaizumi + sugawara + terushima + ukai + (gn!reader)

warnings: none, but all of the boys are -for- having babies in this!!

notes: this is probably the last one of these i'll do + this has literally taken me so long (3 years) to find inspiration for the last 3 scenarios ahh

 part one / part two / part three / part four

iwaizumi feels like you're hiding something from him. he doesn't know how to explain it, call it his intuition. but he feels like there's something you're not telling him, and for some reason––aka oikawa, he thinks you're pregnant.

"well if you ask me, iwa-chan, it sounds like y/n might be pregnant."

iwaizumi almost choked on air when his best friend uttered those words. was it true? was he really going to be a father? surely you would have told him, right? why wouldn't you? did you think he'd react badly? did you not want to raise a family with him?

oikawa went on, knowing his friend would get too caught up in his thoughts if they stayed in silence.

"took you long enough anyway, i've been waiting to be your kids' favorite uncle." he waved a hand playfully, "and yeah you'll be wonderful parents too, i'm sure."

that made iwaizumi's familiar oikawa-induced scowl return, earning the volleyball player a half-hearted smack on the back of the head.

iwaizumi's gait slows as he walks into your bedroom, noticing you snuggled in the covers, on your phone. when you notice him you quickly smile and greet him, opening your arms for him to give you a hug and he absentmindedly obliges, his body working on it's own through muscle memory. just the sight of you has him feeling tingly and warm.

you can tell he's not fully there when he pulls away, an almost distant look in his eyes that brings a bubble of concern to your stomach. "are you alright?"

you place a hand on his cheek and he leans into it, tilting his head, his eyes cast down as he sits next to you and wraps his arms around your waist.

his voice is small when he speaks up. "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

you frown, "of course. why?"

you tilt your head to catch his eye and he finally looks up, a hesitant and somewhat fearful look in his gaze. it's not that he was scared that you were pregnant, no. it's that he was worried you wanted to keep it from him.

his hand subconsciously drifted closer to your stomach. "are you pregnant?"

you froze and blinked once, your hand dropping from his face in shock. you don't know what you were expecting but it wasn't that. "wh––no? haji i would have told you if i was. where is this coming from?"

suddenly an embarrassed blush rose to his cheeks as his eyes widened. "uh i don't––" he sighed and let his head drop down, his voice stooping to a mumble. "shittykawa."

you raised a brow, letting out a breath of laughter that brought a smile to his lips. "trust me when i say i would tell you before oikawa if we were having a baby."

iwaizumi nodded, wanting nothing more than to hide his face. so he did, playfully tackling you, the smile on his face widening when you let out a surprised yelp mixed with a laugh as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.

you quickly melted into him, wrapping yourself around him, tangling your legs together in the bed.

his voice was partly muffled as he spoke up, "guess i'll have to tell crappykawa he won't be an uncle as soon as he thought. poor guy was excited too."

you paused, your hand mindlessly playing with his hair. "...i mean...maybe he could be."

iwaizumi's breath hitched and he raised his head to look at the sheepish smile on your face. "yeah?"

you nodded. "yeah." you shrugged, "i'm ready if you are."

his heart started to beat faster, swelling with love as he leaned in to give you a sweet kiss. "i've been ready, doll."

sugawara has had an extra pep in his step all day. he woke up earlier than you to use the bathroom and when he slid back under the covers, you spoke up in your sleep, mumbling.

"mm need to tell...koshi...bout the baby."

his eyes widened, heart rate picking up as he stared at you. should he wake you up? should he call daichi? he was too excited he didn't know what to do.

he kissed you on the cheek and turned on his side to watch you with a smile on his face. he started thinking about what life was going to be like with a mini you with cute chubby cheeks.

he ended up not being able to fall back asleep, so he got an early start to his day. when you finally woke up later, he had already pretty much had a full day, prepping to be the best dad and partner during your pregnancy. he stocked up on all your favorite snacks and ingredients for your favorite meals, along with a bouquet with your favorite flowers. he was also wearing your favorite outfit on him, his softest hoodie for you to cuddle into.

he also made your favorite breakfast, you realized as you walked into the kitchen, a loving smile growing on your face. "kou what's all this for?" you immediately walked into his arms, nuzzling into the fabric of his hoodie. you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes.

"just wanted to remind you how special you are to me, and that i'll always take care of you."

"aw baby."

"so uh is there anything you wanna tell me?" he looked at you hopeful, a smile on his face.

you perked up and his smile widened. "oh, thank you baby, really. you're so sweet to me." you squeezed him tighter.

his smile faltered slightly. "anything else?"

you tilted your head. "um, i love you?"

"i love you too babe." he laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "nothing uh...nothing else?"

your brows furrowed, an unsure smile on your face. "i don't think so?"

"you know you can tell me anything, right? especially if it's about us?"

"yeah of course i do. but i don't know what you're talking about?"

"the...the baby?"

you blinked. "whose baby?"

he blinked back. "...ours?"

"we don't have a baby...?"

"i thought...i thought we were having one?"

"...why?"

"you said...in your sleep this morning you said you had to tell me about the baby." he smiled, embarrassed. "and now i'm realizing you were probably just mumbling nonsense." he laughed. "sorry babe."

"aw kou," you pouted, both at how cute he is and how thoughful he is to have done all this for you. "you seemed so excited."

he kissed your cheek, smiling "yeah, but i can wait."

you bit your lip. "hm, well maybe...you don't have to wait that long? if you're ready."

he beamed at you, eyes tearing up, heart swelling with love for you. "i've been ready, love."

terushima was seeing signs everywhere. he had a strong suspicion that you were pregnant, and he always trusted his gut.

you'd been moody, clingy sometimes and then absolutely disturbed by his presence within a split second. and then there's the food––

"yujiii"

he came tentatively into the room, slightly afraid. "yes, my love?"

"i'm really craving the sushi from that one place we tried last time."

"the place all the way across town?"

you started to pout, tears forming in your eyes.

"no no no, hey hey, it's okay! we can just order, yeah?"

smiling, you nodded and beckoned him over for a hug. "thank you baby."

he came into your arms, basically sighing in relief. nuzzling into your neck, he mumbled, "this baby's really putting me through the ringer, but i know it'll all be worth it."

you stiffened and he immediately tensed, holding his breath. he didn't mean to say that out loud.

he tried to keep you close but you managed to pull back and look at him. "baby?"

"well yeah..." he looked down to your stomach and back into your eyes.

your eyes narrowed, your left one starting to twitch. "i'm not pregnant."

slowly, he started to back up, eyes wide. "oh–i just..."

"i'm on my period, dumbass!"

he almost tripped on the rug behind him and ran for the door. "i'm gonna order your food baby okay! forget what i just said!"

ukai wasn't a superstitious man. but something about his dream last night was making him think you were pregnant. mainly because you were pregnant in the dream.

he walked into the living room and leaned against the wall as naturally as he could, though he felt more awkward than ever for some reason, glancing at you on the couch and looking away again and again. how should he ask this?

"have you ever thought about what it'd be like if we had one of those little shits running around the house?" he cringed internally, probably not like that.

your brows furrowed in confusion, "you mean a dog?"

a flash of irritation crossed his face, moreso at the fact that he phrased his question so poorly. what was he thinking?

"n-no not like a dog. like...a little minion, you know?"

you tilted your head, even more confused. "a minion?"

he sighed, exasperated "yeah, you know. like...like a kid. our kid."

your brows raised in surprise. "oh––well..." you paused for a moment. "i mean, of course i have."

"i think you're pregnant." he facepalmed in his mind.

"...what?" you looked around, not quite knowing what to think.

he simply nodded, convinced.

"are you saying i've gained weight?"

his eyes widened in panic and he crossed the room in two steps, coming to sit next to you on the couch. "no! no, of course not babe."

"well...then why do you think that?"

"i uh..." he scratched the back of his neck, looking around. "i had a dream."

"a dream?"

"yeah." he looked at you, curious. "have you had any dreams recently?"

"not that i remember..." you looked at him weirdly, slightly concerned by your boyfriend's strangeness. "what happened in your dream?"

"you were pregnant."

you blinked at him. "okay..."

he simply looked at you like you should understand where he was coming from.

"and how did dream you react?"

he placed his chin between his thumb and pointer finger, looking up as he tried to recall. a small smile appeared on his face, "well, i was pretty happy, pretty sure i almost had happy tears." he laughed, almost fondly.

you couldn't help but let a little smile slip at your ridiculous boyfriend. "kei, did you ever stop to think maybe your brain's trying to tell you that you want a baby?"

his lips parted in shock as he looked back to you, eyes blank, blinking as his brain recalibrated. "well...huh, maybe you're right babe."

your smile grew, "i'm always right."

he rolled his eyes playfully, a smirk on his face. "yeah, yeah."

©adoringhaikyuu 2024 please do not repost

[hutchersonsgurl]

Out of the Shadows - Daryl dixion

paring fem reader & Daryl Dixon

summary: you and Daryl have been seeing each other for a couple months but he never said i love you

warning: none

The sun hung low in the sky, painting the world in hues of gold as you and Daryl dipped under the broken fence lining the Greene farm. The tranquility of the countryside felt like a distant memory compared to the chaos that lurked beyond its edges. Surrounded by the chaos of the undead, you had carved out a little corner of normalcy here, even if it was fraught with tension and higher stakes than ever before.

You and Daryl had been through a lot in the last few months, the bond between you stretching beyond friendship into something more confusing—something that sizzled just beneath the surface. When Daryl had first suggested, rather awkwardly, that you two could help each other out in "some ways," it had seemed like a harmless enough arrangement. But now, watching him adjust the straps on his crossbow with that familiar frown etched on his forehead, you wondered if your friendship could ever really go back to what it was before.

“Are you ready?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at you. His voice was steady, perhaps a little more composed than how you felt. You nodded, pushing aside your swirling thoughts and focusing on the task at hand. The grocery store loomed before you, a hulking skeleton of its former self, but it was full of potential supplies that could save lives.

As you stepped through the threshold, it felt eerily quiet. The aisles were toppled and littered with cans and wrappers. You took a deep breath, the stale air heavy with the scent of decay, and pushed forward.

After some searching, you began gathering canned goods, medical supplies, and whatever else you could find. Daryl moved through the isles with a predator’s grace, his sharp eyes continually scanning for danger. You admired his focus; it was part of why you were drawn to him.

“There’s gotta be more in the back,” he said, pointing toward a set of swinging doors at the end of the aisle. You felt a thrill of anticipation coupled with a tinge of unease. This was the longest you had been on a supply run in a while, and the store had been silent far too long.

“Let’s check it out; we can’t leave any good stuff behind,” you suggested, heart racing. You wanted to impress him, to prove that you could handle yourself out here.

With a nod, you approached the swinging doors and, with one swift motion, pushed them open.

The sight beyond those doors sent a chilling jolt through your body. A horde of walkers shuffled in the dim light, their grotesque forms shuffling aimlessly. You barely had time to register their existence before Daryl was at your side, crossbow raised, ready for action.

“Back up!” he shouted, shoving you gently behind him. The moment hung in the air before chaos erupted. You seized your knife, your instincts kicking in. Daryl took out the first walker with expertise, his aim true, but there were too many—more than you had anticipated.

You ducked under a flailing arm, slicing your knife into the side of a walker’s head, its putrid weight collapsing to the ground. Daryl's movements were fluid, almost choreographed as he covered your blind spots.

“We gotta get outta here!” he barked, his eyes fierce with determination. You nodded, adrenaline flooding your veins, and together fought off the growing swarm, pushing your way back toward the entrance you had come through.

Each step felt heavy as you battled your way towards the door. You worked in sync, a rhythm established through countless hours at the Greene farm. It wasn’t just about survival now; it was about protecting him, just as he had protected you.

Suddenly, you stumbled, a sharp pain shooting through your leg as one of the walkers latched onto you, its rotten teeth gnashing just inches away. Daryl was there in an instant, wrenching the walker away and dispatching it with a brutal thrust of his knife.

“Get up!” he urged, pulling you to your feet again. You won’t let him down; you wouldn’t let either of you down.

The two of you barreled for the opening, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You felt breathless as you fought to the front of the store and burst through the doors, leaving the throng of walkers behind in the dusty gloom.

Once outside, you sprinted toward the truck, gasping for breath. Daryl slammed the door shut just as a few stragglers lunged at the vehicle. Hearts pounding, you both sank against the truck, the adrenaline slowly fading.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, a seldom-seen relief washing over his features. “Thought we were done for.”

You smiled weakly, still feeling the rush of adrenaline. “I could’ve handled it,” you teased.

“Yeah, like hell you could,” he shot back, a smirk finally crossing his lips, melting some of the tension that had built between you.

Returning to the Greene farm felt surreal. You had faced death together and survived. Only moments later, as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the fields, you found yourself alone with Daryl by the barn. The silence wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

“Listen…,” he began, his voice halting. He avoided your gaze, focusing on a distant horizon, but you could see the weight of emotions in his expression. “I... I need to tell you something.”

Your heart raced. Was he finally going to say it? Your breaths came in shallow bursts, the entire world narrowing down to just the two of you.

“I never thought I could let someone in like this,” he confessed, finally meeting your eyes. “But I do care about you, more than… more than I thought was possible in this messed up world."

You felt your heart leap. “Daryl…”

“I love you,” he rushed out, the words tumbling from his lips. His gaze was fierce, raw with vulnerability. “I don’t just want to be friends or whatever. I want you.”

It felt like time stopped. You took a slow breath, allowing his confession to wash over you. “I love you too, Daryl,” you admitted, sincerity resonating through every word.

" it took you us almost getting killed by walkers to tell me you love me " you tease

"Hey I told ya I ain't good at these types of things" Daryl answered

First fic in awhile! I'm slowly getting back into this but hope y'all like it

[doc-who]

When Green Turns Red

Emily Prentiss/Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapters: 10/?

Words: 1958

Catergories: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

The walls of the alley loom over you like a shadow, the frigid air biting at your skin. It’s not the cold that sends tremors through your body, but the words that fall from Emily’s mouth.

“This was a mistake,” she says, voice devoid of all emotion, her eyes as cold as the night that surrounds you.

“Emily, please don’t do this,” you plead, desperation lacing your voice.

“I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” she sneers, her face twisted in disgust.

Your throat tightens with barely repressed sobs. “You don’t mean that. ”

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms seize you from behind, squeezing tightly around your torso. You fight with every ounce of strength, but it feels like you’re trapped in an iron cage.

“Emily!” you scream, “help me!”

She watches you struggle, her expression void of any concern, as if you mean nothing to her.

“You’ve always been a mistake,” she shakes her head, turning her back and fading into the mist of the alley.

“Please,” you sob, “don’t leave me.”

Tears stream down your face as you’re dragged backwards, your feet scraping along the pavement. As you’re pulled deeper into the shadows, the sinister voice holding you captive chuckles in your ear.

“I’m going to have fun with you.”

-

Your eyes fly open, and you sit up with a jolt, heart hammering in your chest. You’re surrounded by darkness, and for a disorienting moment, you think you’re still being dragged away, trapped and abandoned.

Breath coming in desperate gasps, your blurred vision focuses, and you realise you’re not in the cold alleyway, but in your hotel room.

You’re faintly aware that someone is speaking to you, but all you can hear is the echo of Emily’s voice, cold and detached, ringing in your ears.

A hand rests on your shoulder, and you flinch, pressing yourself back against the headboard.

“It’s just me,” a voice says gently, and you blink, turning your head to find Emily next to you.

The warmth and concern in her eyes is a stark contrast to the hateful stare that’s burned in your mind.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispers gently. You nod, not quite trusting your voice yet, still trapped in the horror of your dream.

The bedside lamp flickers to life, and the shadows that surround you retreat into the corners of the room. Emily’s face is bathed in a soft glow as she searches your eyes, trying to understand the reason for your distress. Gently, she takes your hand in hers, her thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

“Nightmare?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

You nod again, still unable to force words from the pain that tightens your throat. The image of her walking away from you, her cold indifference as she watched you be dragged away, refuses to loosen the hold it has on you.

The real memories of that night overlap with the imagined ones of your dream, the similarities they share bombarding you with questions you thought had been put to rest. Struggling to separate the Emily sitting next to you to the one from your nightmares, you pull your hand from her grasp.

With a deep breath you raise your head, finally daring to look at her. By the look on her face, you know that she’s realised this wasn’t just any nightmare. She frowns in confusion at the hurt and accusation on your face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks hesitantly.

Eyes dropping to your lap, you study the bedspread, attempting to hide the hurt in your eyes.

“It was just a nightmare,” you murmur, trying to convince yourself as much as her.

Emily’s hand tightens around yours, and you know she’s not going to drop the subject.

“What about?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Emily insists.

Wiping your hand over your face and feeling wetness on your cheeks, you sigh. Emily says your name softly, wiping away a stray tear you missed.

“Tell me,” she pleads.

You hold your knees to your chest, anxiety twisting in your stomach. Even though Emily has told you she loves you, the hurt caused by what transpired that night still lingers. You know this heaviness in your chest won’t go away until you get answers. Until you know why Emily ended things that night, why she said what she did.

Looking into her eyes, you search for any trace of the coldness and disdain she displayed in your dream. When you find only sincerity in them, you take a deep breath.

“It was about that night, outside the bar,” you admit quietly.

Emily’s eyes soften in understanding, but she doesn’t pull away like you feared she would. Instead, she squeezes your hand, encouraging you to continue.

“Did you mean it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, “when you said we were a mistake?”

Emily’s eyes flicker with a mix of pain and regret, “No, I didn’t mean it,” she says firmly, bringing your hand to her chest.

“Then why did you say it?” you say, voice trembling, “I don’t understand.”

Emily takes a deep breath, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “When we started seeing each,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “we both agreed that it wasn’t going to be anything serious.”

You nod, remembering how your arrangement started.

“That night, when I saw you with someone else…” she continues, her voice low and pained, ”I’ve never felt like that before. It was so intense, it scared me.” her hands tremble around yours, unshed tears in her pained eyes.

“I didn’t know how to handle it,” she pauses, taking in a shaking breath, “so I did the thing I was always best at,” she chuckles darkly in self-deprecation, “I pushed you away,” her voice cracks, “I hurt you before you could hurt me.”

The weight of her confession lingers in the air, heavy and suffocating. You pull your hand from hers, needing the space to process everything. The memories of that fateful night come rushing back. The anguish that you thought you had buried reemerging with a vengeance, tearing open the old wounds that you had tried so hard to heal.

Emily releases the breath she’s been holding. “Say something, please.”

Her eyes search yours, desperate for any sign of understanding or forgiveness. You understand now what drove her to do what she did, to say the things she said, but it doesn’t automatically erase the months of doubt and heartache that followed.

“I don’t know what to say, Emily,” you admit, your voice raw with emotion. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you turn your back on her.

“Anything,” she begs, shifting closer, “just don’t leave, please.”

“Why wait so long to tell me?” you finally ask, your voice still thick with emotion. “Why let me go all these months thinking that’s how you really felt about me? That I was just one big mistake to you?”

Emily moves closer until she’s sitting behind you, tentatively wrapping her arms around your waist.

“I thought I was the only one feeling this way,” she whispers into your hair, “so I kept it all inside. I never let myself believe that you could feel the same,” she admits.

You shake your head, your throat tight with unshed tears. “How could you not know?” you ask incredulously, your voice shaking with the effort to keep your emotions in check, “how could you not realise how I felt about you?”

Emily’s arms tighten around you, “After everything I said, everything I did, I didn’t think you could ever forgive me, let alone love me.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath and turn around in her lap so that you’re facing her. Feeling the warmth of her embrace, you look into her eyes that are now brimming with tears.

“But I do love you, Emily,” you whisper, your voice trembling with sincerity, “I always have.”

Her eyes widen, a tear slipping down her cheek as she searches your face for any sign of doubt. “Always?” she breathes out, her voice filled with disbelief. You nod, feeling your own eyes fill with tears.

The astonishment in her eyes that follows your confession quickly morphs into one of guilt as the realisation dawns on her. It’s clear that she truly never considered the possibility that you felt the same as she did, and you can see the turmoil playing out on her face as she realises the true consequences of her actions. That you have been suffering all this time just as she has, all because she was too scared to admit how she felt.

Her hands come up to cradle your face, her thumbs wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice cracking, “I’m sorry for everything. For pushing you away, for making you believe that I thought you were a mistake. If I had known…” she shakes her head, and scoffs at herself, “all this time, I thought that if I just gave you space, kept myself away from you, that you’d realise that you’re better off without me.”

“Emily,” you whisper in disbelief, “how could you ever think that I would be better off without you?”

“Because all I ever seem to do is hurt you!” she cries. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been there that night. That if I had just been honest about how I felt, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

You sigh in understanding, holding her face in your hands. “Emily, you know I never blamed you for what happened to me.”

“I blamed myself,” she whispers, her arms trembling around you, “I still do.”

“Emily,” you sigh, “you can’t take responsibility for what happened to me,” you say, your voice firm but gentle. You trace your fingers along her cheek, feeling the dampness of her skin. “You didn’t know what was going to happen that night. No one did.”

She nods hesitantly, but you can see that she’s not convinced, that the self-imposed blame still lingers.

“Emily, look at me,” you say firmly, hands guiding her face up.

Her eyes meet yours, and you can see the guilt she’s been carrying. The guilt that’s been eating away at her just as your doubt has been consuming you.

“I need you to believe me when I say this,” you say fervently, “what happened to me had nothing to do with you. It wasn’t your fault.”

Emily swallows heavily, her hands gripping your shirt.

“You’re the one that found me, that saved me,” you say, smoothing her hair back off her face, “okay?”

For a moment, she doesn’t speak. Her arms tighten around you as if she’s afraid you’ll vanish if she lets go, then she takes a deep breath, “Okay.”

The tension in the room eases, and you lean into her, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. Gently, you extract yourself from her lap, pulling her back into bed, the coldness of the room replaced by the warmth of the covers as you slip beneath them.

Emily’s arms wrap around your waist protectively, pulling your body into hers. You lay there with your cheek pressed against her chest, listening to the rhythm of her heart. It’s a comfort you hadn’t realised you had missed so much, and you tighten your hold on her.

Emily buries her face in your hair, taking in the familiar scent of your shampoo.

“I love you,” she whispers, the words soft and filled with emotion.

The weight of the past months seems to lift, and for the first time in a long while, you take a deep, easy breath, “I love you too.”

[tinydefector]

Psst , The human affect last one where after MC post those spicy pic's, imagine the new of it on Swerve bar's DRAMA and Chaos 😂😂😂 I want to see the reactions

Who's servos- Human effects

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: taking about explicit photos, light smut, hand humping, Drunk robots.

I added a sprinkle of Dratchet in here because I love these old men. So enjoy the boys reactions to the Ambassador's photos.

Prev

Next

__________

Swerves Bar is overly loud as mechs argue amongst each other as they try to figure out what bot was shacked up with the Ambassador, everyone looking at the photos as they try and figure out who's servos they are. 

"I'm telling you, those are Rodimus' servos for sure!" someone slurred, slamming their drink. "Only he's got servos that colour!" 

“Ah no, Animus has the same coloured Servos!” 

“Don't look at me im on the Ethics committee, and whoever is involved in this clearing doesn't care about the ethical side of interspecies relations which we have no knowledge on!” Animus argued back the moment his name was mentioned 

“What if it's UltraMagnus who painted them so he doesn't get caught!” Aquabat chimed in trying to be part of the conversation. 

"As if!" another scoffed. "Ultra stick-up-the-tailpipe would never. My shanix are on Atomizer." Gears states into his drink. 

At the counter, Rodimus nursed his engex with a scowl. "Sure as Frag wasn't me,  i'd be boasting about that in person!, plus the servos don't have the detailing I have!" He argued back. 

Drift flashed a sly grin. "Oh I don't know, Roddy - they do raise an interesting point. You are the Mech they spend a lot of time with who's captain of the ship, and I believe you'd keep it a secret to spite everyone" the ex con was Overcharged himself, drifting from where Rodimus sat and where Ratchet was sulking over his own drink. 

"It has to be one of the senior staff," argued Hound. "They've got the most face time with the Ambassador." 

"Don't discount the scientists," Brainstorm countered. "Interspecies collaboration is crucial work." A collection of them look at Brainstorm for a kilk. 

Nautica scowled as she passed by. "We all know you have no tack Brainstorm."  

Tailgate tugged Rewind's arm anxiously. "Do you think we'll get in trouble for looking? I didn't mean to pry, honest!"

Rewind shook his head. "No, its publicly posted with consent, pretty sure if the Ambassador had issues with it High command would have dealt with it already " 

Beside them, Swerve studied the photos intently. "Maybe I should invite the ambassador for drinks. Get to chatting, see if we could get them to spill."

"No harassing them," Rodimus warned, stealing Swerve's datapad. "Now let it go, mechs. Their choices aren't anyone's business but their own." 

Skids appeared at Drift's side suddenly. "Can you believe it, Drift?, who do you think it is?" He waved a datapad at the speedster, proudly displaying an image. 

Swerve perchs up his field mischievous. "Any guesses on the lucky mech, Drift?, we're Taking bets" He states in singy song tone. 

“C’mon Tailgate, don’t be such a prude,” Skids nudged the minibot to look at the photos  as he ducked shyly behind his engex. “Ain’t you curious?” 

Swerve flashed a waggle. "C'mon Drift, place your chips! I got hot odds on Roddy, Crossblades, or maybe even that slippery therapist Rung." 

Hound elbowed in, visor blinding. "Do they show interface arrays? Wonder how alien bits compare!" 

Drifts optics focus in on the holos taking in the Ambassador and the servos, Drift felt his energon run cold as his optics focused unmistakably on the servos in the image. Oh, he knew those battle-worn appendages all too well - how many vorns had he felt their merciless precision upon his mesh, heard their owner growl his name through the throes of overload? 

But dear Primus, how had the Ambassador come to possess Ratchet's severed servos? A flash of memory surfaced - hadn't Ratchet left them in medical incase he ever had to use them again. after the massacre at Delphi. 

He snuck a surreptitious glance at Ratchet through the chaos, the grumpy Medic seemed to slouch more in his seat while spilling a bright green mixed high grade. A smirk spread Drift's lips. “ don't Bet Swerve” he states. Rising smoothly, making a beeline for Ratchet with the holo in hand.

Ratchet glances up when he sees Drift, had the CMO not been so drained and worried he might have smiled at Drift, but with everything that had happened with Traxies his systems were running full alert. "Well well, look who finally noticed me," Ratchet remarked dryly as Drift slid into the seat beside him, weariness pulling his field taut as ever-tightening screws. "And just what have you got there that's got your relays in a twist?"

Drift took a moment to slowly moving to straddle his conjunx lap, teasing whispering to him as he handed over the holo. "Funny thing - seems our dear Ambassador has found a new use for those old servos of yours, though how, I couldn't say..."  Ratchet whipped his gaze to the image, intake dropping open at the sight of all-too-familiar digits wrapped intimately around supple flesh. His fans stuttered violently. 

"The pit...how in Primus's name did they get a hold of my old servos?!" He rasped, snatching the holo to pore over with widening optics. Somewhere in the drunken din, Drift managed to slap a servo over Ratchet's mouth before he made a scene. 

Drift leaned close, vents puffing hot against an audial. "Well? Care to make a claim, or shall mystery have them all in a tizzy?" he purred silkily. Ratchet grimaces, field warming ever so slightly beneath its veneer of exhaustion. "None of their business," he grumbled, staring pointedly at Drift. 

Drift chuckled, glossa flicking coyly over his dermas. "Aw, don't be like that. You know you're enjoying the thought of having every optic in this bar on you, imagining all the sinful things you'd do” 

A rumbling growl escaped Ratchet's intake. "And you'd best mind your tone, or you'll find yourself in need of a medical. Again." But his field betrayed amusement Drift's optics glinted knowingly. "You say that like it's a chore, but we both recall how creative your medical procedures can be...especially with an eager patient beneath those adept servos." 

"You're like rust" Ratchet huffs but lets Drift continue, his mind does start to wonder about how soft the Ambassador looks. "Honestly, you're worse than the younglings sometimes, Drift." But his digits had already found their way to rest in the seams of Drift’s hips. 

The Ex con nuzzled closer still, voice playful even in his overcharged state. "How you wound me, doctor." His servo crept daringly across Ratchet's plating, tracing patterns. "Just imagine - that soft little frame. The sounds you could coax from those lips..."

A shiver worked its way through Ratchet's struts, betraying his fraying self-control. "You really are determined to get us both in more trouble than we can handle, aren't you?" But his engine revved eagerly all the same. Drift purred contentedly as deft medic's digits found all his sensitive nodes just right. "Mm, you say trouble but I know how you enjoy a challenge, doc." 

His field pulsed hot as his imagination, arousal spiking at thought of the Ambassador with them. "Just picture it - that lithe organic frame writhing between us, so curious and willing to learn." Drift continued to grind against Ratchet's servos. "You'll get us both in the brig, get back to my Hub you're overcharged" he huffs out. 

________ 

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[nattblacklupin]

Cupids ride

Pairing: Rhysand x fem! Reader

Warnings: Little angst - not really tho, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, amusement park, Mor being supportive bestie

Summary: You're in love with your childhood best friend since forever. You plan on confessing your feelings on special starfall celebrations when something tries to ruin your plans.

Masterlist

Rhysand had been your best friend since childhood. You remember all of the memories you made with each other. The memories that lingered the most were the moments you slowly fell in love with him. Slowly but hardly, you didn't even realise it till you were drowning in your love for him. His smile awoke butterflies in your stomach, making your cheeks red when it's directed at you. You never felt what you did now, not when you were dating some lyrian soilder that wanted you to be his good little wife, not when Helion wanted for you to sleep with him. What you felt was something deeper, stronger. Even the strongest faes could not stop you from feeling what you feel towards Rhysand.

After discussion with Azriel, the only person that you knew wouldn't tell anyone about your little secret. You decided to confess your feelings. It would be so much better than keeping them inside and hurting yourself and possibly him, too, in the end.

The timing seemed perfect for your plan. This year, Rhysand had planned something extra special for Starfall, insisting that the celebration could be even more magical. And you knew how to make it even more memorable for him.

You had to giggle to yourself when the idea of taking him to date there and confessing your feelings came to your mind. Running over to the table in your room you couldn't help but be happy, everything is going according to your plan. Sitting down with a flick of your hand, you summoned parchment and some pen you can write letter to Rhysand with.

Dear Rhysand,

Hello, how have you been in the day court? And when are you possibly coming back? I apologise for all my witty questions that could be perceived as spying for Azriel (maybe I am, you never know). But I would like to invite you with me to the theme park you organised. We could maybe even go try the ride of cupit, or eye of Velaris how you like to call it. Please answer as soon as possible.

Yours,

Y/N

With a light flick of your hand, you send the letter to Rhysand, hoping it will find him in Day court. Your heart hoped even more he would stop his business there to answer. You knew how much he prioritized his work so his court could be happy and save. And in time of starfall, he did even more, wanting to spend time with his family without having to worry about anything going wrong.

It was the day of starfall, and Rhys still didn't come or even send a letter back. You couldn't help but lay in your bed with a blanket over your head. In two hours is the main part of starfall that all of the night court gathers to watch and enjoy, yet you weren't even getting ready, still sad of the possibility of Rhysand not coming.

Suddenly, Mor barged into your room with a beautiful purple dress in her hand. She was dressed in a beautiful red dress that hugged her every curve.

"Stand up and stop moping around. And I don't take no as a answer" you knew arguring with her would let to nothing as she's stubborn and won't stop till she gets what she wants.

"Look at the dress I brought you." You looked up and down the dress she was now holding in both of her hands like proud mother. "Are you sure it will fit me, Mor?" You asked, not sure about how you will look in it.

"Oh please, you will look magnificent in it. Just imagine Rhys' reactions when he sees you." You stood up as fast as you possibly can. "Rhys is coming?" You asked hopefully to which Mor answered only with smile and tossed the dress at you. "Get dressed. I will do your makeup and hair." She winked and left.

You quickly put the dress on, admiring yourself in the mirror. Mor really choosen well with this one. It was a beautiful purple dress that had gems tailored in it that sparkled as the skies of night court. The dress had just enough cleavage for you to feel comfortable and not like you're being exposed too much. You had to thank Mor for this.

"I have to go to Emerie, I hope you can entertain yourself for a while, Girly." She winked at you and left in a blink of an eye. You had to smile. They were so cute together. The happiness turned sour as soon as you remember you're alone on starfall. You looked up to see you're standing in front of a cupid ride.

"Fuck it, if no ones gonna take me I will just take myself" you whisper for yourself deciding to spoil yourself little bit. "But I wanted to take you, darling."

You swear you never moved as fast as you did now, turning your head to the source of the voice.

"Rhysand? What are you doing here, I thought you were in summer court." Rhysand stood there, a teasing smile playing on his lips. He came closer to you, his eyes shimmering at you.

"I was, and I am supposed to be. But I got your letter and couldn't leave out the opportunity to be there with you. " He lifted his hand like he wanted to touch you but hesitated, letting it fall. Then, as if gaining confidence, he took your hand in his. The simple contact sent a thrill through you. Did you really make Rhysand, the Lord of the Night Court, nervous?

"You made my night right now, Rhys. I was ready to go on couples ride alone and make myself the biggest joke of starfall. " He chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “That would have been tragic, darling.” He leaned closer to you, his breath on your cheek, and his lips hovered just above yours. "It really would." You let out breathlessly, your heart pounding in your chest.

Fireworks in the shapes of hearts went off in the background while people cheered for the new beginnings. And then, in this moment, his lips met yours in a soft, deliberate kiss. It was gentle, filled with all the affection, need, and love that you had hidden from each other for so long. Your hands found their place in his hair, tugging lightly, and he responded with a low hum of approval.

He slowly pulled back from you, leaving his forehead on yours. "I love you." He whispered so softly that you nearly didn't hear him. "I love you too, Rhys so much." You replied, voice full of emotions.

He took hold of your hand and turned to Cupid ride with a smirk.

"Shall we go then, darling?"

[mxtxfanatic]

What finally pushes Wei Wuxian into a qi deviation isn’t the fact that Jiang Cheng showed up to hate-crime him and Lan Wangji, but the fact that Wei Wuxian showed up with the best of intentions—informing his dead guardians of his intentions to marry—just to be goaded into attacking their son in front of their tablets, the highest form of disrespect he could’ve performed in front of them. That Jiang Cheng could drag him down to such a level as to engage in something so disrespectful when Wei Wuxian showed up specifically to pay his respects is why it should not surprise anyone that Wei Wuxian’s last thoughts on Lotus Pier is that he wants to leave and never return:

It was only proper to show respect for the deceased. After all, they were at an ancestral hall.

...

Jiang Cheng was exactly who Wei WuXian had wanted to avoid; the last person he wanted to be seen by. Now that Jiang Cheng had found him, he knew he probably couldn’t escape fast enough without having harsh words flung his way. Wei WuXian didn’t want to start any unnecessary conflict, so he said, “I didn’t bring HanGuang-Jun anywhere that contained the Lotus Pier’s secrets. I’m just here to offer a few incense sticks to Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu. We are just leaving.”

—Chapt. 87: Core (Part 9), boat-full-of-lotus-pods

He turned to Jiang Cheng and said, “Jiang Cheng, listen to yourself. Do you even hear what you’re saying? Don’t forget who you are. You’re the leader of a sect. To insult a fellow cultivator from one of the Four Great Sects in front of Uncle Jiang and everyone’s memorial tablets. Where are your manners?”

...

All three of them had weapons out in front of the ancestral hall now. Jiang Cheng’s eyes were bloodshot as he snarled, “Fine! If you want a fight, then let’s fight! You think I’m afraid of you two?!” But just a few strikes later, Wei WuXian remembered, startled, that they stood before the ancestral hall of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. He had only just knelt and prayed in front of Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu for their protection a few moments ago. And now he was attacking their son with Lan WangJi right under their nose! As if a bucket of cold water had just been dumped over him, suddenly, spots appeared in front of Wei WuXian’s eyes and his vision darkened.

...

Wei WuXian did not answer him. Instead, he said, “Lan Zhan...... Let’s go.” Immediately. And never come back.

—Chapt. 88: Core (Part 10), boat-full-of-lotus-pods

Tellingly enough, Jiang Cheng does not hold the same sense of shame in the fact that he instigated a physical fight in the resting place of his ancestors nor that his intentions weren't to maintain decorum when he followed wangxian into the ancestral hall to begin with. In fact, he is fueled by rage to the point of irrationality before he even steps foot into the ancestral hall, so much so that he cannot even accept wangxian disengaging from the fight and attempting to leave on their own:

All the signs pointed to the same conclusion—there was now something more between Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. Unable to make himself turn away or step forward to speak to them, Jiang Cheng had concealed himself and followed after them, reinterpreting their every exchange and gesture through a coloured lens. Feelings of disbelief, strangeness, and slight, mild disgust had momentarily been enough to overcome Jiang Cheng’s hatred. It was only when Wei WuXian had brought Lan WangJi into the ancestral hall that Jiang Cheng’s anger reawakened. The repressed, overwhelming rage consumed his rationality and manners.

...

Lan WangJi harbored no more desire to continue the fight with Jiang Cheng. Wordlessly, he pulled Wei WuXian onto his back and turned to leave. Jiang Cheng was plagued by alarm and suspicion. He was alarmed by the terrifying sight of blood suddenly oozing out of Wei WuXian’s qiqiao. Yet he was suspicious of whether the man was faking it for an excuse to run away. After all, it was a prank that Wei WuXian had pulled quite often in the past. At the sight of the two men leaving, Jiang Cheng called, “Stop!”

—Chapt. 88: Core (Part 10), boat-full-of-lotus-pods

[ediblecucumber]

Yandere platonic omega father x neglected child reader

Omega father who was in a happy and stable marriage with his alpha, the two met in high school and fell in love, it was a typical romance cliché where the alpha and the omega were academic rivals competing for the title of best in the class

The two eventually became friends/rivals until they finally became lovers, after college graduation the two got married, everything is going well until the omega gets pregnant

It is an unexpected but not unhappy pregnancy, the alpha works in a very well-paid job so there is no worry about money so despite not really liking the idea the omega quits his job planning to stay home during the pregnancy

It is a happy pregnancy, you are born a beta, you are an adorable child and your alpha father loves you with all his heart, your omega father also loves you despite being bothered by your gender, your omega instincts cannot understand why your puppy has no smell, is the puppy sick? Is the puppy defective?

The first five years of your life are wonderful, you have an amazing alpha father and an omega father who is always at home with you, everything is fine until it isn't anymore

Suddenly your omega father asks for a divorce, you and your father are surprised, you never expect this, you both love each other so why does the omega father want to leave!? Because he feels trapped, he couldn't go back to work and now his life revolves around a child and a husband as if he were one of those traditional omegas, this was never the life he imagined, he always imagined himself in the future as an independent omega

Despite his alpha father's attempts to try to rebuild the relationship, his omega father leaves, there is no fight for custody because his omega father makes it very clear that he has no interest in keeping the beta reader, in court the omega father declares that he is not mother material and that he never wanted to be a mother

He really thinks that he does not fit into this role of motherhood until he meets and falls in love with two adorable little abandoned orphan omega girls, he adopts them and the role of motherhood easier than he breathes

Omega father who becomes neglectful of his biological child, stops answering your calls and starts canceling several father-child meetings with you

Years pass and the neglect it goes on and on and on and on you insist on begging for your omega father's love until one day you have had enough, during a rare father-child meeting you are walking through the mall with your negligent omega father, everything is going well until you hear two voices scream

They are the negligent omega father's adopted daughters, they were buying some clothes and saw the two of you, as soon as your omega father saw his precious babies he forgot about you, he immediately goes to them completely forgetting that you were there and all you can do is watch as the three of them walk away

It turns out that this was not just an ordinary father-child meeting, this was a meeting to celebrate your birthday and only after seeing that scene do you realize how little you matter to him, crying you grab your cell phone to call your alpha father to pick you up because obviously your omega father forgot that he was your ride back

After that you give up, no more phone calls, no more letters and no more attempts to arrange meetings, you finally realized that all you need is your alpha father

Everything remains silent until the neglectful omega father notices your absence, after looking at your old baby photos your absence silence began to make a huge echo in the omega father's conscience

He looks at the date and then panic sets in, 18 - you're going to be 18 soon and he can't remember almost anything about you almost no memories or remarkable events come to his mind which is strange because he remembers all the twins' events very well

•Yandere omega father who calls you only to realize that your number has been blocked

•Yandere omega father who tries to write letters that always end up being sent back sealed

•Yandere omega father who tries to contact you through school only to realize that he doesn't know what school you go to, have you graduated yet? What college do you intend to attend?

•Yandere omega father who tries to take the matter to court only to be told that you are now a legal adult so you can decide that you no longer want contact with your parent

•Yandere omega father who is desperate to regain contact with you, he has realized his mistakes so WHY DO YOU KEEP IGNORING HIM!?

[tarithenurse]

Pirate's bounty

Fandom: MCU AU Pairing/starring: 1st mate!Bucky x Pirate princess!reader Word count: 1500 Content: Sparring, smut (oral, fem receiving). A/N: Oh...what’s this? Something fandom related?? Oops!

One night, as her friends are resting and the ship is quiet beneath the stars, she notices Bucky spying on her from the stairs – just his head poking up over the last step, door slightly ajar the way she’d left it.

“I see you,” she says, not bothering to stop the flow of movements.

A bit sheepishly, he steps out on deck. “Need a sparring partner?”

Stopping, [Y/N] considers what sort of opponent he’d be. “I’m afraid, I’d be no match for you.”

Rather than accepting her answer, he steps up and pulls out a vicious looking dagger from his belt – his great sword having been left behind in the cabin below deck. Taking the challenge, [Y/N] puts her rapier aside and draws her own daggers. Both.

They circle each other slowly at first before Bucky lunges with a straight slash towards [Y/N]’s shoulder. It’s easy to dodge and she suspects it was more to test her reflexes than to count for a strike.

Next time he strikes, she pivots around and manages to tap one of her daggers against his chest even as his free hand comes to block her.

“0-1,” the man admits.

As the larger person, he has the benefit of superior strength and he uses it to the best of his abilities but his target is small and nimble with excellent technique and so it is only in their third bout that he manages to score a point by grabbing hold of [Y/N] with one hand and yanking her backward against his chest as she was spinning away from his first attack.

“2-1,” she relents, waiting for him to release her. When he doesn’t let go, she wiggles in his grasp. “I said, you win that one.”

“I know,” he hums. But still holds her tight.

Listening for a moment to the sound of the waves and their breathing, [Y/N] considers if she’s missed something beside his plan that won him the bout but there’s nothing.

“Then let go.”

“Free yourself,” Bucky counters. “What would you do if an enemy had you in a hold like this?”

She considers it. He’s shifted the hold from grabbing the scruff of her shirt to being wrapped around her chest. His dagger is in his right hand but at a relatively safe distance. Slowly sheathing her own weapons (for the sake of safety), she formulates a plan: step on his toes, “stab” him with the left hand’s weapon which they’ll pretend [Y/N]’s still holding, while preparing to block with the right hand.

Carrying it out is like ramming face first into a stone wall: no effect other than a grunt when her heel crunches down on Bucky’s toe.

“You gotta do better than that. An enemy wouldn’t let you go so easily,” the large man growls.

She huffs. “An enemy would have been wounded in the thigh.”

“An enemy would be trained to deal with it.”

Squirming, all she manages to is to come face to face with him but try as she might, she can’t break free. [Y/N] sighs, closing her eyes a moment to avoid looking at the serious face of Bucky.

“Fine!” the young woman then hisses, “how am I supposed to do it?”

Slipping his own dagger away, Bucky repositions them and explains how she can use her shorter stature to her advantage, flipping him over so he lands on his back on the deck. It takes a few attempts before she gets it right but suddenly he goes flying over her back and head, landing hard. Quick as a cat, she follows. [Y/N] lands astride on his abdomen while her dagger flashes in the moonlight as she holds it to his throat.

“Perfect,” he hums, large hands on her thighs and the thumbs rubbing softly through the leather.

Confused, the young woman retreats, allowing Bucky to get back up. Even in the dark, she can see his eyes are dark with something she recognizes from when last they were this close – but that shouldn’t be possible. And yet...a memory presses into her mind of how it felt when he kissed her and the urge to try it again blooms within [Y/N] once more.

Bucky is big for a human, yes. Large in stature and musculature and personality. He has a cockiness to him that she hates and admires at the same time. Right now he’s using all of it as he struts towards her, making her back up until her back hits the mast.

“Put the dagger away,” he purrs and dumb as she is, she obeys. “Good girl. Tell me to stop and I will.”

Wrinkling her brows, [Y/N] considers what he means, if he means what she thinks he is implying, and whether she wants it. She doesn’t stop him. Not even as he grabs her by the waist and lifts her onto his thigh. Or when he dibs his head down to carefully brush his lips against hers.

It’s a soft kiss. Slower than the first they shared and it has her whimpering into his mouth by the end of it. An end where she also realizes that she’s holding on to him for dear life.

“Your father would kill me,” Bucky huffs.

“He’s not here,” she insists, out of breath too.

Cupping his jaw, [Y/N] guides his lips back where she wants them, shutting them both up apart from the delicate moans and whimpers that the wind steals away.

While his hands are steadily holding on to her hips, the young woman’s fingers are dancing along his muscles on his shoulders, back, arms, chest – anywhere she can reach – but they still when he rocks her, causing the pressure between her legs to shift and spark something she’s never felt before.

Alarmed, she pulls back, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“It’s alright,” Bucky purrs, “I’ve got you.”

Allowing him to do it again, [Y/N] realizes what she’s feeling, heat rushing to her cheeks invisibly but her understanding is given away by the way her nails dig into his skin at the sensation.

It’s all him at first, gently moving her into a rhythm that causes the need to blossom until she rocks on his thigh on her own volition, chasing the delicious pressure while she clings to his shoulders.

It’s like standing at a precipice, wanting to jump into the void but not daring too, merely toeing the edge. Tense and focused, [Y/N] chases a foreign high and so she pouts when Bucky manhandles her over his shoulder, stopping the sweet pressure of a caress. He carries her to the very bow of the ship, ducking down behind a large coil of rope for the anchor to lay her down.

“Buck-” she starts.

“I’ve got you,” he promises.

Already fumbling with the strings of her trousers, it’s not long before he’s bared her, leaving the clothing tangled around her ankles as if too much in a rush as he kneels there, trapping her feet in place even as he pushes her knees apart. Bending down with a purr, he noses at the remaining fabric, nudging at the sweet spot that’s tender and tingly from rocking against his broad thigh. The man’s hand is big as it slides up her inner thigh, thumb gliding under her underwear, causing her to realize that she’s soaked by something.

“Oh,” she gasps as his thumb swipes through the wetness up to her pearl, circling it slowly and causing intense ripples of need to rush through her.

“I’ve got you,” he promises again.

Kissing the right knee, there’s nothing rushed about Bucky. He just takes his time to pamper her with his hands and lips and tongue, slowly peeling her underwear away to grant him the view of the soaking cunt.

Suddenly [Y/N] is worried. “I’ve never -”

“I know,” he shushes.

Bending down, he licks a broad stripe from her entrance to the pearl, causing her to shudder and gasp. He finishes with circling and flicking, eliciting new ripples of pleasure to wash through the young person. Then he dives in fully, like a man starved he devours her cunt until her back arches and she has to stifle a loud groan by biting into her own hand. The stars above are blurry, blacking out as the delight surges and peaks, stealing her breath away.

Bucky brings her down, gently lapping at her and rubbing soft circles on the hips that he’s held on to to prevent her from bucking too much.

Eventually he stills too. Looks up at her with a satisfied and cocky grin that glistens with her juices.

“Go get some rest,” the large person directs her, “you’ll sleep better now.”

It takes her a moment to figure out her clothes. Even longer to gain control of her legs that feel soft and wobbly, enhancing the roll of the ship. But she does as she’s told, silently cursing herself for allowing this to happen because she knows she’ll want more.

[callmedaleelah]

— Pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— look at this idiotic fool that you made me ; cherish every seconds you have cause you never know when it’ll turn upside down

author’s notes : no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

[ masterlist ] | [ ask daleelah go to box box 🐭 ]

The night stretches long and silent, cloaking your room in a stillness that feels both comforting and stifling. You've been lying there for hours, staring at the white ceiling, tracing invisible patterns with your eyes, trying to will yourself to sleep. But the quiet isn't enough to lull you into rest. Your thoughts keep drifting back to the dinner, the awkward exchanges, the warmth in Tsukishima's gaze that you can't seem to shake.

You roll over in bed, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders, your pink pajamas soft against your skin, but they offer no comfort tonight. The room feels empty now that your parents are gone, their voices and presence lingering only in your memory. It’s strange, this quiet solitude—something you used to cherish before all these new feelings started creeping into your heart.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the bright screen cutting through the darkness. You grab it, blinking to adjust your eyes, and frown when you see the name on the screen.

Tsukishima ; You still up?

Your heart skips a beat, confusion mingling with curiosity. It’s late—much too late for him to be messaging you, especially after saying goodbye to your parents just hours ago. Without thinking, your fingers move swiftly across the screen.

Yeah, why?

His reply comes almost instantly, making your pulse quicken: I’m outside the building. Can you meet me here?

You sit up abruptly, the blanket pooling around your waist as your mind tries to process what he just said. Outside? At this hour? You rub your eyes and glance at the clock—it’s almost midnight. What could he possibly want? For a second, you consider ignoring it, but curiosity gets the better of you.

Throwing the blanket off, you slip your feet into your slippers and grab your student ID before rushing out of your room, your footsteps muffled by the carpeted hallway. The dormitory feels eerily quiet, the soft hum of the heating system the only sound accompanying you as you reach the entrance. The cold air hits you the moment you step outside, and you shiver, cursing yourself for not grabbing a jacket.

Then you see him. Tsukishima, standing just outside the entrance, bathed in the dim glow of the streetlights. He’s wearing his usual hoodie, hands buried deep in his pockets, his head tilted slightly as he waits for you. His tall frame is relaxed, yet there’s an intensity in the way he looks at you that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice a little breathless from both the cold and the sudden rush of adrenaline. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to retain some warmth.

Tsukishima’s eyes scan you from head to toe, lingering for a second on your pajamas before meeting your gaze. “It’s cold out here,” he says simply, his voice steady, but there’s an undertone you can’t quite place.

You blink, confused. “Yeah, I know. It’s almost midnight. Why—?”

“And yet you didn’t wear a hoodie before heading out?” He cuts you off, his eyes narrowing slightly as if your lack of common sense is somehow personal to him.

Your mouth opens and closes, flustered by his bluntness. “I—I didn’t think I’d need one. I didn’t plan on staying outside long,” you mumble, suddenly feeling exposed under his sharp gaze.

Tsukishima sighs, the sound filled with mild exasperation, but before you can protest, he’s already unzipping his hoodie. The fabric rustles softly in the quiet night as he drapes it over your shoulders, his hands brushing against your arms as he adjusts it on you. The warmth from his hoodie seeps into your skin, and you’re enveloped in the faint scent of him—clean, slightly musky, with a hint of something fresh and familiar.

You stand there, frozen, as Tsukishima takes it a step further and zips up the hoodie for you, his fingers lingering on the zipper for a beat too long before he steps back. His silence feels like a command, one you don’t dare disobey.

He doesn't say anything, but the way his eyes linger on you makes your heart race. It’s as if he’s silently telling you to wear it—no arguments. You swallow, nodding slightly, unsure of how to respond.

“Come on.” His voice is softer now, as he reaches for your hand, the warmth of his palm sending a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the cold. He tugs you gently, guiding you toward his car parked a few feet away.

You follow, too stunned to speak, your mind still reeling from the sudden shift in his demeanor. The wind whips through the open space, biting at your cheeks and making your hair whip around your face. Tsukishima, always composed, doesn’t flinch from the cold, his steps measured and steady as he opens the passenger door for you.

You hesitate for a second, looking at him with wide eyes, but he merely raises an eyebrow, silently urging you to get in. You comply, sliding into the seat as he shuts the door behind you with a quiet click. The interior of his car is warm, a stark contrast to the frigid air outside. You watch as he walks around to the back seat, retrieving something before climbing into the driver’s seat beside you.

When he sits down, there’s a small bakery box in his hands. You tilt your head, confused again, until he opens it to reveal two chocolate muffins, each with a small candle sticking out of the top.

Your mouth drops open slightly. “What…?”

“You didn’t get to eat your cake at dinner,” he explains, his voice casual as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter. “So I brought you something.”

You stare at the muffins, your chest tightening with a mixture of surprise and something else you can’t quite name. “You…did this for me?”

He lights the candles one by one, the soft glow illuminating his face as he nods. “Your mom isn’t around, so you can eat this without her knowing, right?”

His words make you laugh, a light, breathless sound that escapes before you can stop it. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away quickly, smiling at him through the soft haze of candlelight.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you whisper, your voice catching in your throat as the weight of his gesture sinks in.

Tsukishima shrugs, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. “Make a wish.”

You stare at him for a moment, your heart swelling with gratitude and something deeper, something you’re not quite ready to name. Then, closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and make a wish, blowing out the candles as the soft flames flicker and die.

When you open your eyes, Tsukishima is watching you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your chest tighten all over again. And in that quiet, intimate moment, surrounded by the warmth of his hoodie and the dim glow of the candles, you realize something: you’re no longer alone in the dark.

The warm glow from the streetlamp outside cast a gentle light into the car, highlighting the small, cozy space you shared with Tsukishima. You reached into the box with a soft smile, pulling out the first muffin and holding it toward him.

“Here’s the first one for you,” you teased lightly, eyes sparkling. “You get to eat first ‘cause you’re special.”

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing smirk. “I do?” He placed a hand over his chest dramatically. “Well, thank you, I’m honored.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his playful response. That sweet laugh—the one that always escaped when you felt at ease, when it was just the two of you. You took a bite of your muffin, the flavor melting in your mouth. “Oh wow, this is so good. Where did you get these?”

Tsukishima hummed in acknowledgment, swallowing his bite before answering. “You won’t be able to get these again,” he began, his tone casual but hinting at something more thoughtful, “I found a random cake shop still open late—“

“All for me?” You interrupted him, grinning cheekily as you leaned in a little closer, the air between you becoming more playful, yet intimate.

Tsukishima sighed softly, shaking his head with a small smile. “Yeah… all for you.”

The silence that followed was comfortable, the kind of silence that felt like a warm blanket draped over the two of you. As you ate your muffins, you exchanged small, shy glances, and each look seemed to speak louder than words could. There was something special in the air tonight—something you both felt but weren’t quite ready to address.

Just as you were about to take another bite, Tsukishima’s voice dropped to a low whisper, catching you by surprise. “Have I told you this before?” he began, his gaze softening as he looked at you, “you have a really beautiful smile.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as his words hung in the air. His eyes held a sincerity that made your chest tighten. You blinked, feeling your cheeks flush. “No, you haven’t… but thanks,” you replied shyly, your fingers nervously playing with the muffin wrapper. “You… you have a really nice smile too,” you added, your voice barely audible as you glanced at him bashfully.

Without realizing it, the space between you had slowly diminished. His presence felt closer, warmer, as if the barrier that had always been there had quietly melted away. You couldn’t help but admire the way his glasses framed his face, how his soft eyelashes cast delicate shadows across his skin. His nose scrunched slightly, his brow furrowed in that usual way when he was concentrating, yet somehow, you’d never noticed before how undeniably handsome he was.

Before you could fully process your thoughts, Tsukishima’s hand gently reached out. His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made your heart race. The pad of his thumb softly caressed your cheek, and your breath caught in your throat at the sudden contact.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath but carrying so much warmth, so much meaning.

Your lips curled into a soft smile as you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the simple happiness that bubbled in your chest. You had never felt this kind of joy before, a joy that was soft and warm, that made you feel completely seen—like you mattered in ways you hadn’t realized until this very moment.

Then, Tsukishima handed you another small box. You blinked, confused at first, before your curiosity took over. “What’s this?” you asked, a mix of excitement and surprise coloring your voice.

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Your present—obviously,” he said with his usual teasing edge, though there was a softness to his tone now, an almost shy undertone.

You opened the box, and inside was a delicate bracelet. Its design was simple yet elegant, a perfect reflection of your style. You gasped, eyes widening as you stared at it, then back at him. “No way, seriously?” You covered your mouth with your hand in disbelief, your heart swelling with joy.

Tsukishima chuckled softly, his fingers gently taking the bracelet from the box as he clasped it around your wrist. His touch was light, but the simple action sent a jolt of warmth through you. “Do you like it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

“I love it!” you exclaimed, your excitement overflowing as you reached out and squeezed his hand without thinking. “Thank you so much.”

He didn’t say anything, just smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. And in that moment, your gaze locked with his, and the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. The silence between you was no longer awkward or empty—it was filled with something unspoken but deeply understood.

Your fingers, almost on their own, intertwined with his. You squeezed his hand gently, feeling the nervous energy building inside you, but it wasn’t the kind of nervousness that made you uneasy. It was the kind that made you feel alive, like something important was about to happen.

You opened your mouth, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I like you,” you whispered, the confession hanging in the air between you. Your voice trembled slightly as you continued, feeling your heart pound against your chest. “I don’t know when it started, but… you always make me feel seen. I… I really like you, Tsukishima. I can’t stop thinking about you, and sometimes I feel like my heart’s going to burst because it’s all just too much. I—”

You stopped abruptly, noticing the subtle shift in his expression. His teasing smile had vanished, replaced by something unreadable. Slowly, he pulled away from you, retreating back into his seat, his gaze now fixed on the windshield. The warmth that had filled the car moments ago suddenly felt cold, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Your heart dropped, and you blinked rapidly to push away the sting of tears. “I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have said that. You don’t have to say anything. I—”

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The awkwardness hung thick in the air, suffocating your chest. You glanced at him, hoping for any response, but Tsukishima remained silent, staring out of the window.

Feeling a sharp pang of rejection, you hastily removed his hoodie, folding it neatly before opening the car door. “Thanks for tonight,” you murmured, your voice wavering. “I—really appreciated it.”

Before he could respond, you stepped out of the car and shut the door, your legs carrying you swiftly back to the dorm. Tears blurred your vision as you reached the building, your heart aching with every step.

By the time you reached your room, your heart felt heavy, and the thoughts spiraled in your mind. You threw yourself onto the bed, burying your face in the pillow.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you muttered to yourself, replaying the events of the night over and over again. All this time, you thought you had seen something in his actions—the compliments, the gentle moments, the way he seemed to go out of his way to help you. But now… you weren’t so sure.

Was it all in your head? Was Tsukishima just being kind, and you had misread the signs? You weren’t sure of anything anymore, except for one thing: your heart ached with every beat.

The dorm room felt colder than usual as you curled into a tight ball on your bed, hugging your knees close to your chest. The bracelet on your wrist shimmered faintly under the low light of your lamp, reminding you of the bittersweet memory that had unfolded just moments ago. Your confession replayed in your mind—over and over again—each repetition twisting your heart a little tighter.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the embarrassment that bubbled up inside you. Tsukishima’s silence, his sudden retreat, it all played like a bad dream. And now, you weren’t even sure if you could face him again.

Burying your face into the pillow, you let out a frustrated groan, “Why did I say that? Why now?”

But no matter how many times you questioned it, the truth remained: you liked him. There was no denying it anymore, no pretending that your feelings weren’t there. They were real, and they had spilled out of you like water breaking through a dam.

Maybe you should’ve waited. Maybe you should’ve held back a little longer, but then, how much longer could you have gone pretending that your heart didn’t skip a beat every time he smiled at you?

tagslist (free to mention) ; @theweirdfloatything @snowthatareblack @ilovemymomscooking @nayiiryun @knightofmidnight @kozumesphone @scxrcherr @thechaosoflonging @monya-febrjack

[nastyenemyeater]

Rockstar Choso 🫣👹🎸🥁- FANFIC

I saw some tiktoks about Choso being a drummer and it gave me some ideas.

Here are the links :

SHOUT OUT TO NARUTOSS.RAMEN

either way here's the plot : basically Y/n got cheated on by her bf at a club and she got revenge by kissing the drummer of 'The curses' rockstar band .

“Look Y/n isn’t that Nathan?” asked your best friend, pointing at a guy during a hardcore kissing session with a random girl.

The blasting music, the heat in the club and the moving people passing by and occasionally shoving you to pave their way, were not helping you in any way digest the scene you just witnessed.

Your knees felt weak, your heartbeat increased considerably, memories flashed by, tears started overflowing and millions of questions exploded inside your head “why? Am I dreaming? Why did he cheat so easily? Did he even love me?”

“Go confront him Y/n! What are you waiting for? The fuck??” shouted your best friend, shaking you fervently and bringing you back to the hell.

You couldn’t. Or you thought it didn’t matter anymore.

“That motherfucker” you seethed in anger.

Alcohol was all you could think about. Yes, you needed to drink a shit ton of it. After all, you came to the club to enjoy your Saturday night. You didn’t plan on having your heart broken but … life never goes how you want it right?

You made your way to the bar, jaw clenched, eyes burning with anger and determined to drown the night’s misery in alcohol. The bartender handed you the strongest shot of vodka, and you backed at least five of them. Each one went down smoother than the last, but the pain refused to fade.

"Maybe I should just make out with the first guy that comes along," you thought bitterly, resting your head on your arms as you looked to your left.

Unexpectedly, a pair of dark, hazy eyes were already locked on you. He sat back against the bar, elbows resting casually behind him. His dark, messy hair clung to his sweaty forehead, framing his sharp features – a defined jawline, high cheekbones, and tired, yet piercing eyes that studied you intently. Tattoos snaked up his neck and down his muscular arms, accentuated by the sleeveless black shirt that clung to his broad frame. His legs were spread wide, exuding a quiet confidence and control.

Without thinking, you locked eyes with him, staring intently with no thoughts, just an empty, heated gaze. A faint smirk played on his lips as he stared back, silent but sharp, as if he was waiting for you to make the next move.

“Whatch’you lookin’ at?” he asked with an amused tone, breaking the silence between you two.

You didn’t have the strength to engage in any conversation yet, and all you could do was stare at him. Being in that inebriating state made easy for you to prolongate the eye contact.

He let out a low chuckle, stood from his seat and made his way toward you.

But before he could take another step, 2 other guys suddenly pulled him away, dragging him toward the other side of the bar. A chaotic stream of girls followed, screaming some names as they swarmed after them.

You watched as he winked at you before disappearing into the crowd. Despite the commotion, you remained rooted to your spot, an amused smile playing on your lips as you took in the scene.

“Wow, they must be somebody for them to get followed liked this” you wondered. You groaned loudly as you realized your mistake “Fuckkk ! I just blew my chance … fuck fuck fuck … Uh give me another one please” you said, asking for another shot to forget about this massive fail.

By now, the alcohol coursing through your veins made you feel more at ease, braver, and a little reckless. Confidence surged with every beat of the rock music that pounded through the club, filling your body with raw energy. The tension that had been building up inside you needed an outlet, and before you knew it, you found yourself weaving through the crowd toward the dance floor.

You moved with purpose, shaking off the accumulated stress with each step. The crowd was electric, and soon you managed to slip right to the front of the stage, where you spotted the two guys who had dragged your "new friend" away earlier. They were performing, and you finally recognized them as The Curses, a rockstar band.

You also spotted your "new friend" as their drummer. His name was Choso apparently.

The music reverberated through your body, each beat syncing with the rising tension inside, a strange mix of hurt, anger, and alcohol pushing you to the edge. By the time they finished their set, the adrenaline was pumping so hard it was like a shot of fire to your system.

Without thinking, you somehow climbed up on the stage. The crowd’s roar faded into the background as you grabbed the microphone, your voice raw with emotion as you shouted, “FUCK YOU NATHAN!”

The audience gasped, some laughing, some unsure what was happening, but you didn’t care. Your mind raced as you continued, “GO FUCK YOURSELF NATHAN! YOU DON’T DESERVE SHIT IN YOUR LIFE”

The two guys from the band rushed over, trying to calm you down, but most importantly trying to yank the mic out of your hands. One of them put a hand on your shoulder, but you jerked your arm away and continued, “YOU HEAR ME, NATHAN? YOU MANWHORE”

Someone grabbed your arm, pulling you slightly back as a voice whispered, "C’mon, miss, don’t embarrass yourself. Get down from the—"

But you cut them off, shouting, “DON’T TOUCH ME! I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SPEAK!” Your voice rang out, fierce and defiant. Then, you turned and realized it wasn’t a stranger—it was Choso. His intense, steady gaze met yours, silently pleading for you to calm down. For a moment, everything else faded, and it was just the two of you, his eyes trying to pull you back from the edge.

The noise and chaos seemed to fade into the background. Staring into his captivating eyes, you thought, It’s now or never. Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his plump lips, and without hesitation, you acted.

You dragged him down toward you, while rising up onto your tiptoes, and then you kissed him fervently, all the pent-up emotion pouring into that moment.

His pink-haired friend cackled into the mic, “You hear that, Nathan? You fucked up! Your girl’s gone now!”

“yeah you son a bitch! look at me eating up this guy’s mouth!” you thought, deepening the kiss.

You would be a total liar if you said that making out with Choso was just any other chore to get back at your ex.

No, no, no, no… that man was a beast. The second your lips touched his, he yanked your body against his, your breasts colliding with his large, hard chest.

Every inch of him was solid, muscle-packed beneath his shirt like he was carved from stone. His body radiated heat, and the faint sheen of sweat from his earlier performance mixed with the scent of his cologne—a powerful, intoxicating blend that made you want him even more. The mix was engulfing, dizzying, wrapping around you like a drug, making it impossible to pull away.

What started as a kiss turned into something deeper, more intense. His mouth was commanding, his lips moving over yours with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. His tongue was battling against yours, and all you could do was respond.

He was devouring the fuck out of you.

His hands slid down to your waist, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The feel of his body against yours – strong, immovable – made you crave more. Your fingers roamed up his shoulders, desperate to feel more of him, to get closer.

This wasn’t just some kiss to get back at Nathan. Choso’s kiss was raw, overwhelming, and consuming – everything you didn’t know you needed.

“Ok ok lovebirds! time’s up! you both can finish this later” suggested his sexy black-haired friend.

The crowd's reaction to your passionate kiss was a mix of emotions. Some voices rose in anger, hurling insults, while others cheered loudly, celebrating your bold move. The air buzzed with a clash of discontent and admiration. Some of them even started chanting “fuck you Nathan” in chorus.

But eventually, all good things must come to an end … and you had to shed yourself from Choso’s addictive body. You were both panting and staring at each other’s soul trying to figure out what just happened and what was going to happen afterwards.

“So ... do you make a habit of kissing random guys on stage?” he asked with a smirk, his eyes lingering on your face, taking in every detail.

“I … I have to go …” you stuttered, pushing him slowly away.

“Oh nah you can’t go now. There is no way I’ll let you leave after what you just did to me” he said, pulling you closer.

“I acted impulsively … I’m sorry … I need to go” you said, still trying to get out of his grip.

“Oh, so you’re just going to run back to Nathan?” he spat bitterly, holding you even harder.

You immediately frowned upon hearing his name again.

“Fuck you” you gritted, putting all your almighty force to push yourself away from him.

“That’s perfect, I have a 20-minute break anyway” he said, grinning. Before you could respond, his strong arms encircled your waist. In one swift, fluid motion, you were lifted off the ground. Panic surged as you were hoisted over his shoulder. It wasn’t a gentle lift; it was firm and unyielding.

“Guys, if you don’t mind, I have something to take care of” he informed his friends.

“Man, do whatch’ya gotta do, we lost you the minute she got on stage” said the black-haired guy.

You kicked and hit desperately, your fists pounding against his back. “Put me down!” you screamed, struggling against the grip holding you. “Let me go!”

“I don’t know about you, but I like to kiss a little before fucking. That being said, if you like it rough I can do that for you baby” he said, spanking you.

“The fuck??? did you just spank me?? how dare you??” you screamed at him, outraged.

“oh so we were literally dry-humping each other on stage 5 minutes ago but I can’t spank you now? That’s bullshit! You’re mine now!” he said, pushing an exit door.

When he finally set you down, the cold night air jolted you back to reality.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I didn’t think this through, ok? I just saw my boyfriend kissing a chick and I saw you as an opportunity to get revenge … I’m sorry please, just let me go” you pleaded.

He leaned in, slammed both of his hands on the wall, caging you with his body “So you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy our kissing session?” he asked faking a pout, but clearly amused.

“I didn’t say that” you shyly admitted, looking away.

“Then why are you running away?” he whispered in your ear, his lips now dangerously close to your neck.

“Please understand my situation here, I still have to deal with my feelings” you said, trying to get your neurons to work.

“I know for sure I can get him out of your head and give you new feelings to think about” he whispered against your neck.

“Look, I’m not trying to fuck … I told you I acted impulsively, I’m sorry” you asserted. Your mouth said no but your body craved this man with every alive and dead cell.

“Hey, as much as I love sex, I’m not going to fuck with you if you’re not willing. What I’d really like to do, though, is to get to know you better. So, what’s your name” he asked, his tilted curious face looking at you.

“I … uh … Y/n” you sighed. You knew there was no point in faking a name. You would have forgotten about it anyway.

“Y/n ... I can see myself moaning your name”

“Shut up. Choso.” you said, trying to hide your fluster.

“I definitely can see you moaning my name” he added, with a smirk.

You could see yourself doing that too. Just thinking about it, sent tingling signals to your pussy.

“Can I get another kiss before going back to stage?” he asked with a demanding look on his face. He looked so adorable, with his pleading eyes and his slightly parted lips. He held your chin up with his hand, forcing you to look up to him.

That bastard … He wasn’t playing fairly …

“if you keep looking at me like that I might have to bring you home, and keep you all for myself” he whispered again in your neck.

You couldn’t speak. You were unable to focus on not acting impulsively again and trying to formulate long sentences. Your brain was in a total meltdown.

“Just so you know, I still plan to get my revenge and kiss you first, and when I do, you’re not getting out alive” he added, gently kissing your neck.

Silence.

“Please ... say something, you’re driving me crazy” he whispered, desperation lingering on his voice.

His hands slid on your back, pulling you closer to him.

“Fuck … baby … please … don’t give me the silence treatment …” he whined, holding you harder.

“Ok …just one peck” you sighed, finally making a decision. You had surrendered to this man’s desires.  

You got on your tippy toes and gave him a 4-second peck on his soft lips. But no light brush of lips or polite peck was enough for Choso. As soon as your lips touched again, he kissed you back with everything he had, hungry for so much more.

“Hey! C’mon man, we need you back on stage. Sex time’s over” interrupted pink-haired guy busting the exit door open.

“Fuck off man” Choso growled between kisses, as you both slowly came to a stop.

“I want to see you again baby. Gimme somethin’ more than your name” he asked, visibly frustrated.

“How about you look for me here next Saturday at your concert?” you suggested, smirking unknowingly, your hands roaming on his broad chest.

“And when I catch you,” he said with a grin, “you'll see the things I’m going to do to you.” he finished, with a hard squeeze of your ass.

i hope you liked this story ❤️ don't hesitate to comment and reblog !

[hannahssimblr]

“Jude! God, c’mere.” Michelle thrusts me into the centre of the group, where someone has propped a card against a vase on the counter. I ensure to arrange my features carefully into some sort of surprised expression. 

“Oh, what? This for me?”

“Yes,” they cry. It’s a handmade card that says ‘you’re dead to us’ on the front. “Aw, Jesus, thanks!” I say, and they laugh and watch me while I open it and start reading some messages scrawled on the inside. There are so many of them, many even squeezed into the tiniest corners, or sideways along the edge.

‘Good luck on your big adventure!’ some say. Others share a memory, wish me luck, express jealousy at my escape. I close it. 

“I’ll read this late when you’re not all gawking at me,” I tell them, which gets a good laugh despite the lack of comedy, and as I look around at their faces, their sad, sentimental smiles and I wish the night was over already, and I was already gone. I feel exposed, like a man under a spotlight without something to say. Would they like me to entertain them? To read their messages and get emotional in the middle of my kitchen?

I catch Jen’s eye. She’s behind the others, by the patio door, dressed in a very funereal black, and an expression to match. While chatter resumes around me, I jerk my head towards the garden, and without words, she understands. She slips through the door and out into the night. 

Jen and I wordlessly follow the path that winds down from the house to the pergola at the back of the garden. We sit on a bamboo settee shielded by trees from the road, where the occasional car passes. The breeze lifts pieces of her hair that frame her face. 

She is staring towards the kitchen, its yellow light pouring out into the garden when she breaks the silence. 

“What a weird party.” 

I exhale a laugh through my nose. “Honestly, I didn’t know if you’d even come.”

She purses her lips. “I’m not totally sure why I did.”

“Maybe you had something you wanted to say.”

“Maybe. Though I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear it.” She looks at me then, her brown eyes dark in the failing light as they study mine. “It surprised me to see Evie here.”

“Me too. I didn’t think she’d come.”

“On her own, too.”

I shrug. “Shane and Claire were busy. They were going to their debs.”

“Ah, the debs.” She picks lint from her black mesh top and laughs humourlessly. “Bet you’re sorry you’ll miss ours. I know how excited you were to suit up for it.”

Even the concept of wearing a suit makes me uncomfortable, as though an invisible tie is pulled too tightly at my throat. “You’re going, I presume.”

“Yeah, with Michelle. The two of us are kind of like the dateless losers in the year. Feels about right to end it all this way.”

“I didn’t think Michelle would be interested in all that stupid stuff, if I’m honest.”

“I think that’s what you assumed. If you’d asked her, she might have told you something different.”

“Hm,” I say. “More evidence of being a kind of shit boyfriend, isn’t it?”

An infinitesimal smile nudges at her lips. “I always said you were better apart. She really brought out the worst in you.”

“It felt that way, to be honest. When I was with her, I really didn’t like myself, or I wasn’t completely myself around her.”

“Well, then. Hopefully, one day you’ll find someone who lets you be yourself. It’s what everyone wants for themselves.”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“I kind of thought you’d found that with Evie.”

I sigh, suddenly irritated, while she draws into herself, hands tucked under her arms. “Sorry,” she says. “I don’t know the right thing to say about her.”

“I kind of wish you wouldn’t say anything to me about her, because, like…”

“It isn’t my business, and all that,” she finishes, and with a nod, she turns her face toward the bushes flanking the garden with their spiky black leaves silhouetted against the deep blue sky.

My voice trembles. “Jen, I don’t want to be angry with you right now, like, I don’t want to go off and start this new part of my life when I feel this way, but the things you said to Evie at the festival, I just… It’s like, no matter how much I think it over, I can’t come up with a reason you would say those things to her.”

She tugs the sleeve of her top between her teeth, just shaking her head. I lift my hands from my lap to look at them. They are quivering, so I clench them into fists as I continue.

“You should have been there on that second night, Jen, and seen the way she was crying. The things you said got into her head, you know what I mean? You can’t just make shit up and tell it to someone like it’s a fact. I know you love to gossip and tell stories, but this is what happens when you go too far. It has real consequences. Like, a real impact on people.”

“Yeah.”

“You told her I was staying.”

Again, she agrees, eyes still fixed on the garden. 

“Jen.”

She swallows, hard. 

“How come you said that? It’s not like I ever told you I was going to do that, is it?”

She mumbles something incoherent. 

“What? Come on, just talk to me.”

“I assumed you would.”

“You assumed? Why would you assume?”

I realise that speaking is difficult for her, as she is holding back her tears. I should feel more sympathetic towards her, but I’m righteous. With a steadiness I know is shrinking her, I stare into her face.

“Maybe it was both that I assumed and I hoped. Like, a mixture of the two.”

“Go on.”

“You seemed happy this summer, at certain moments. It was just… like,” a laboured swallow, “you’d come home late after being with her, and you were just… Happy, and talking all about her and going on and on about the funny things she said to you.”

“So?”

“So, like, I thought you’d end up going out with her in the end, and that you felt so strongly about her that you’d stay in Dublin to be with her. I don’t know, it didn’t seem that crazy an idea. You were acting like you were in love or something.” Now, she looks at me, her eyes hurt, but still searching for confirmation. Perhaps, if she were especially astute, she might have seen somewhere on my face the flash of emotion that jolted through me. I convince myself she hasn’t seen a thing and clench my jaw. 

“I think that was a fairly stupid assumption to make.”

“I don’t. You’ve always done things because pretty girls wanted you to. It’s like your life is based around chasing whatever feeling it is that you get when one of them likes you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“It’s not,” I insist. “Look at me now, huh? I’m leaving her for Germany.”

“Fine,” she whispers. “I just thought you’d stay. That’s all.”

“I won’t.”

“I know that.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Do you?”

She exhales, frustrated, and throws her hands upon her lap. “Yes, I know it. Look at me, here, at your going away party. It’d be pretty fucking mental if I didn’t know it, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’ve acknowledged it.”

“You haven’t talked to me in two weeks.”

“Before that, Jen.”

She fixes the full, passionate force of her stare at me as tears fill her eyes. “Because I don’t want you to go, do I? Because I thought if I didn’t look at it, then it’d all just go away.”

I feel a surge of emotion. My throat tightens as though clenched by a fist. “Well… It doesn’t.”

“Yeah,” as the first tears spill onto her cheeks, she wipes them away with the heel of her hand. “I just didn’t want things to end. I thought if you stayed for her, then I wouldn’t have to lose you, and nothing would change.”

“They have to, though. That’s how life goes. Everything changes and everything ends, and we all just get older and things move on.”

She whimpers. “But you’re moving on without me.”

I reach out and stroke her knee with my thumb over the loose threads of the hole in her jeans. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

“I just don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You’ll just live your life, and I’ll live mine, and-”

“We’ll be apart. How can I go without seeing you all the time? You’ve always just been there, and now I’ll have to get used to you being so far away, and never seeing you, and you’re, like, one of the few friends I even have, and you-”

“No, come on. You’ll make new friends in college.”

“I don’t want new friends. I don’t want to meet new people and have to explain these little things about me, and my backstory and what I like to watch on TV and order at the takeaway, and what sorts of jokes make me laugh. You already know it all, and you’ll know them better than anyone else ever will, because you were there when I decided I liked them.”

“Jenny, we’ll still talk, and we’ll visit each other-”

“There’s no point pretending it’ll be the same, because it won’t. You’re going to say you’ll stay in touch with me and we’ll be best friends forever, but that won’t happen. You’ll find people who are better, and just forget.”

“Never.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch10 A Scarred Heart P3

(Warnings for mentioning of harassment from last chapter, and Sanemi roughing Jake up. 

I dunno anything about health classes really do I'm just making something up for Y/n's interactions with Giyuu so bare with me on that part....Also yes. Giyuu's next to be romanced.

Also important to note that I'm mostly basing how everyone falls for Y/n based on the old post I made here.

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml @tengensangel

@miniverse-zen @mysteri0uz @jjamsbangtan

@the-unknown-fandom @lavenderdropp

@mimisweetz. @purplesoulsapphire

@kksmush @denkpanda18 @whomisi

@lessthanimperfect

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

Your day was officially ruined.

You weren't covered in mud, food, makeup, and rain this time but the memories and actions of Jake made you angry and shell shocked. All you could do was go outside and angry cry. But you weren't alone this time. Kanae was gently rubbing your back and seemed to be frazzled herself. Not that you blamed her. Gyomei had been informed about what happened by her. The usual gentle giant went from shocked to a rare angry you've never seen before.

At the moment said boyfriend was inside apologizing to the owner for what happened and paying for the food. It was Sanemi who was standing by you both acting like a bodyguard and giving worried looks to you both. 

"We're going to be alright," she assured you as you wiped your face. "Just take some deep breaths and try to calm yourself."

Eventually Gyomei did come out, lightly ducking his head to avoid hitting his head and immediately made his way over to you three. "Im sorry for taking so long. The owner was very understanding of the situation. Apparently he was not the first person who caused a fight at the bar." 

You continued to finish up wiping at your eyes face still red from crying and anger. Blinking before turning to toss the napkin in a nearby trashcan. This day was a disaster. It started out great but ended up being just a mess. You scowled at nothing but blinked when two large hands suddenly cupped your cheeks and tilted you up to the concerned look of Gyomei.

"Are you alright?"

You blinked before nodding. "Y-Yes. I'm ok. *sniff*" Although you did sigh and lean into the comforting touch of his hands.

"I'm sorry. I should've been there. This is the second time I wasn't there when he was around."

"I-It wasn't your fault."

"No. I should've been there. I have no excuses."

"Listen to her, Mei." A hand plopping onto his side had Gyomei turning towards Sanemi. "You were talking to your MOM. Sides you think a bastard like that cares about anyone else but himself? It's no one's dam fault but his and if he has at least one working braincell-" SMACK! He quickly smacked a fist into his palm. A strained smile on his face. "-he'll stay away. If not I have no problem knocking some more sense into 'em."

"I-I appreciate that."

"Tch. No one touches my girls and gets away with it."

... Gyomei turned his head with a brow raised to him. "'My girls'?"

"OUR girls!," Sanemi quickly corrected looking at him. "Kanae shouldn't have gone through that neither did your girlfriend! I'm not wrong!"

Gyomei raised a brow higher with a hum as Sanemi sweated under him. 

"Hey. The day's almost over so why don't we just settle down." Kanae quickly redirected the topic away from them. "My house isn't too far from here. Would you two like to come over and watch a movie? We can get pizza or something."

"T-That's really nice of you to offer, but I think I just want to go home." You politely declined to Kanae who understood. 

"Then I'll walk you home. I'm so sorry our night had to turn out like this."

"N-No. Sanemi's right. It's no one's fault but Jake's. Let's just get back." You took a few steps towards the way back home before stopping and suddenly turning back to Sanemi. "Oh I almost forgot. Sanemi."

"Hm?" Said man froze as two hands grabbed him by the face and a second later a smooch was pressed into his cheek very quickly.

You instantly let go giving him a grateful smile. "Thanks for saving me. I really appreciate it. I owe you one I swear. See you tomorrow at campus. Bye, Kanae. It was nice seeing you again too."

"Bye, Y/n. See you tomorrow, Mei!" Kanae waved at them both as Gyomei wrapped an arm protectively around your shoulders and began walking you home. When they were both down the street, she turned to her frozen boyfriend and giggled at his expression. "Are you ok, Honey? You seem to be blushing."

"I'M NOT BLUSHING!!" 

The walk home was only silent with you leaning again your boyfriend who still placed a protective hold on your shoulders and every so often still uttered  apologies but you told him it was alright. For now you just found comfort in the presence of your large boyfriend. By the time you both DID get home it was getting a little late.

"Do you want to stay for dinner? You really didn't get to finish lunch and I don't mind cooking ?"

"I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything for me after today..but we could order something if that works for you?"

"Sure. I was going to cook something for someone tomorrow anyways! Come on in and I'll put in a movie."

A pair of legs quickly walked through the crowds and pushed past people in his way. A loud giggling came from the toddler resting on his shoulders and clinging to his big brother's head. There was an urgency as he walked in order to get to the daycare before his classes started and he'd be late. He pushed on further and further into the crowds of people not caring if they gave him dirty looks. He just kept a firm grip on his giggling brother who giggled out and made full speed ahead towards the building in front of him. Making it as he threw the door open and meeting a familiar sight.

"Hi, Sanemi!," you greeted him as he walked up to the counter. "Good morning!"

"Hey. How are ya? Gotta go!," he quickly spoke out lifting his giggling brother off his shoulders, over his head, and into your awaiting arms as you placed him on your hip. He then slung the extra bag off his shoulders. "Here's his clothes and stuff. I gotta go."

"Oh. Before you go I did get you something." He paused briefly blinking as you reached under the counter and pulled out a small box about as big as a small coffee cake. "It's some more ohagi!" You smiled brightly at him. "I made you some as thanks for yesterday. I hope you like it."

Said scarred man opened his mouth-.. Before his face turned a bright pink and he snatched it from your hands sputtering. "Yeahthanksgottagobye-" He quickly threw out at you before swiftly leaving as you waved.

Hm. He seemed in a hurry. Must've been late for his classes. Speaking of which you'd better also get ready for your health class. You still had to turn in the paper from your last project and then take notes for today. But first you'd better drop off Koto with Gyomei and grab your things.

*********************************************

"Class, turn to page one hundred and thirty two. Today we'll be reviewing the lesson from last week you based your projects on before-"

The sounds of many pages turning in the large room as at least fifty students turned to the appropriate places in their textbooks. Others took out note books lined with lots of notes from previous lessons with room for future ones. Pencils and erasers at the ready for the task ahead of taking down important information. Highlighters in bright yellow ready to highlight any very important details hidden in the professor's speeches. Lights dim as the first slides showed in time with the words the professor spoke.

"Now this here is the example of a former student I showed you of. Your task was to pick a famous medical discovery or sickly disaster from history and write a report on how that discovery or disaster affects modern health experts and research today-"

The current slide showed up a picture of an old painting taken at the city's local museum. It's old pain chipping away but still held together enough to show the picture of a man in his late fifties in an old hospital uniform. The professor looked up at the slide before adjusting his glasses and looking back at the younger crowd. 

"Who here can tell me who this man was?" Murmurs and coughs were circulated around until one hand raised up in the very back row. He pointed at it after a moment of straining his eyes to see around the dimly lit room. "Yes. You, Y/n!"

"The reigning monarchy during that time was lead by King Cedric Roland Jackson Snider the Forth and his wife Queen Stacia Emily Snider." Your hand slowly lowered after your answer and the professor nodded in approval.

"Excellent! Yes! Both King and Queen during that time funded their exhibition out to the area where our town would first be established. Who can tell me what the original purpose of the exhibition was?" Again unsure looks were given around until once more your hand raised in answer. "Miss Y/n?"

"John MacVicar!"

"Right you are! Yes! He was part of a research team of doctors, engineers, and designers who helped to create the first medical ultrasound. The student who did the project on this man included references to some of those people in their paper. Now can anyone tell me one way we use medical ultrasounds today?" You waited to see if someone else would raise their hand and someone else did. A boy in the very front row. "Yes, Charlie!"

You didn't bother interrupting and only listened to the professor continue his lesson and turn to the next slide which was a picture of some old relics from the same time as the founding of the town. You busied yourself by writing down words in the notebook you always took with you during these classes. The words forever being inscribed upon the surface of the paper with ink- Something poked your arm making you pause.

"Psst. Hey, Bud. I gotta tell you something."

Your  f/c eyes deadpanned looked at the dark eyes of the man sitting next to you as he again poked your upper arm.

"What, Murata?," you whisper hissed back to him voice low to avoid drawing attention. "I'm trying to take notes here. You should be taking notes too! You have no idea if this'll be on the finals!"

Murata didn't seemed phased by your words in the slightest and only whispered back. "We need to talk. It's important!"

"I'm taking notes. Wait til after class."

"WHAT?! BUT THAT'S STILL HOURS AWAY-"

"Mr. Murata." The professor gave a look of silent disapproval as the lesson paused. A good few heads also turned to stare at the seemingly frozen man next to you suddenly in the spotlight. "Is there something so important that you have to disrupt my lesson? If so please share it with the class."

In an instant Murata's face went an embarrassed red and he shook his head no. "N-NO! I was just-...Uh. A-Asking to borrow a pencil! Yeah!"

The professor narrowed his heads. "Well then next time ask quietly or better. Next time actually come prepared and not disrupt the class. Now then. " He turned back to the board. "As I was saying, notice how they didn't list their sources on where they got the information? Don't do this. Whether it's from a book, website, or interview with a professional. ALWAYS list reliable resources for where you got your information."

Murata gave a sigh of relief as the faces of their classmates turned away from them and focused back onto the lesson the professor was giving.

"I told you. Just wait until all our classes are finished and we'll talk after. Ok?" You looked back to the notebook after giving Murata a quick reassuring pat on the hand.

His huffed annoyed before he pulled his hands back and looked away. "Fine. But don't take too long."

You wondered briefly about what he wanted that was so important to interrupt class but brushed it off to refocus on the lesson before you. Your paper had been about smallpox and how the man who invented the vaccine was able to make a cure for the epidemic of it. You just hoped the professor liked it enough. The professor continued sighting mistakes to avoid in the future when writing a report before looking back to the class. 

"Now then. Your assignments will be graded and be given back to you this Friday. Until then you'll be doing another project with a partner. It'll be the last major project before winter break so be sure to work hard on it." The professor clicked a button and the projector. On the slide it had two different pictures. One of a brain and one of a silhouette of a man running. "Your project is going to be based on mental and physical health. You and your partner will chose one of the topics and base your project on how one thing can impact either, either in a negative or positive way. Again that topic is up to you to decide but you must take notes and have proof of your results. You may now chose your partner but just know whoever you pick will be your partner for the duration of the project."

The lights turned back on above everyone and the mumbling started up again as the professor switched off the projector. Blinking at the sudden change in lightage, you shook your head before turning to Murata and stopped as you realized he was gone. F/c eyes blinked before your head swiveled around but you still didn't see him. You even stood up for a better peek but still didn't see him through the crowds. Where did he go? He was right here just a second ago..He must've moved and you didn't notice too busy paying attention to the professor. Rats. You were gonna ask him to be your partner. 

Already some people were getting up and moving around at towards their desired partners and not one of them was your friend. Rats again. Outside of Murata you didn't really know anyone else in the class.

Or at least that's what you thought at first.

You had settled yourself into just picking a random person and asking them, however when you looked up towards the very back you caught sight of a familiar face. There up in the top row of seats sitting all by himself was a man. A man with long dark black hair tied in a ponytail, and a large baggy hoodie. Blue eyes didn't look up from the notebook he was still writing in. Just continuing to work away on whatever he was doing. All alone with empty seats all around him.

So maybe that's why when a lady smiled at him from rows below and gathered up her backpack,he didn't notice. Nor did he notice when she bounded up the stairs towards him until a shadow fell over him. Those dark blue eyes blinked confused before looking up and jumping lightly at the sight of your pretty face smiling at him.

"Hi, Giyuu! You remember me right?"

Wait. DID he know her? He furrowed his brows in thought looking at her up and down wracking his brain. Oh wait. This was the lady Gyomei was seeing now wasn't it? Yes. He saw her twice but he remembered who she was now.

So he nodded at her. "Yes. How are you?"

"I'm great thanks! I remembered that we took the same health class." She spoke so excitedly it reminded him a bit of Mitsuri- "Do you wanna be my partner?"

A record scratch sound went off.

...Giyuu blinked. Staring at her wide eyed before turning around to look around him really quick just to be sure there wasn't another Giyuu she was asking before slowly looking back to her and pointing at himself. "Me?"

"Of course! You're like the only person here who I remotely know."

His eyes widened more. "You w-w-want to be my partner?" You nodded. "Do the project with me?"

"Of course! I'd love to! Do you wanna be my partner?" He slowly nodded as if not entirely sure this was happening himself. "Great! Class is almost over. We can get some food at the cafeteria and discuss what you want to do for the project if you'd like." Still bewildered he nodded and was even more surprised when you flopped down next to him with a smile and leaned towards him. "So how have you been? I haven't seen you since the onsen incident. I'm really sorry btw."

"I-I.." He swallowed thickly. "I've been fine. And it's fine."

"I'm glad you're not angry with me. Gyomei was right about you."

"Huh?" He rose a brow at you once more confused. Gyomei mentioned him? When? What did he say?

You smiled largely at him. "You're very understanding and kind."

"EH?!"  You still smiled as his face went a confused pink. However you just opened your notebook.

"I think we should do a physical health project. With your studies in wanting to be a p.e. teacher it might make it easier for us to work with the subject with your smarts."

"You..think I'm smart?"

"Obviously. Do you want to do the physical health subject?"

He didn't answer at first still staring in awe at you before his face returned to his normal stoic expression and his face slowly slipped back to its normal color. "*ahem* ...Yes. Let's do that. We can discuss what we both want to do for the project later when we get dinner." 

You nodded in enthusiasm. "Great! There's a cafe on campus if you want to go there and talk. I'll just call Gyomei after class and let him know where I am."

"That's fine."

You smiled at him and continued to try and make small talk until the bell rang signalling the end of class. Giyuu stood up first politely waiting for you to gather your things before filing out the door with him and down the halls amongst the throngs of people. You pulled out your phone to call Gyomei but stopped as you say a familiar sight. Murata was coming down the hall towards you as you waved to him but your friend stopped seeing Giyuu giving you a gaze... before he frowned, turned, and disappeared into the crowd again. ..Huh. That was weird. What was that all about? Oh well. You shrugged it off before continuing to call Gyomei.

Your boyfriend was surprised to hear you were hanging out with Giyuu but was very understanding of your project and wished you both luck on coming up with a way to tackle said project. With that out of the way you happily turned back to Giyuu who again blink as you happily grabbed him by the hand and tugged him out of the building and towards the on campus cafe. 

He stared wide eyed in awe at where she grabbed a hold of hand then slowly back to her as she smiled and slowly took the man all the way back to the cafe. As the door chimes on the door above you, another familiar face lit up as she spotted you both.

"GIYUU!! Y/N!!," Mitsuri called before giving a full armed wave at you both from behind the cash register.

"Hi, Mitsuri! Can I get two of those really delicious milkshakes and a couple fruit sandwiches please?" You turned back to Giyuu who was still mesmerized with where you had grabbed his hand and was staring at you. "Do you like milkshakes and fruit sandwiches?" He slowly nodded at you. "Ok. Then we'll have some my treat!" You then turned back to Mitsuri who was still smiling and blinking. "Hey..Are you wearing a new eyeshadow?"

"YES! Obi got it for me! Isn't he the sweetest?", she gushed out.

"Absolutely! You look beautiful in green!"

"KYYAAA!!~" She gushed a bright pink as you complimented her. "Oh my gosh! You're so sweet! I could kiss you right now-"

"Oi! Quits making a racket out there and send us the orders!," another female voice called out from the back.

"Oh right! You guys go sit down and I'll bring it to you when it's done!"

You smiled wider at the blushing woman. "Thanks, Mitsuri. C'mon, Giyuu."

Giyuu continued to stare at you before you walked towards a nearby empty table. He watched you before looking at Mitsuri who only smiled back wider at one of her partners holding her own cheeks.

"I know! Perfect isn't she?!"

He opened his mouth-.. before deciding to just close it and quickly follow you to the table. You were already sat down and opening your notebook to today's lesson. He slowly sat down across from you and you spoke.

"So I know we chose physical health but what are we doing? The professor said that we have to chose an aspect that either affects a person negatively or positively and gather evidence on it. Any ideas?" You looked at him.

His eyes gazed over to the side.. before nodding. "I came up with something while writing."

"I'd love to hear it!"

Again he looked surprised by your words. "You.. actually want to hear what I have to say?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I usually do projects alone. I'm not really a person that most people choose to be around."

"Well that's just mean." He again blinked as you pointed at him. "I think they just don't bother to try and talk to you but that's their loss. They just won't know how much of a unique person you really are." His eyes widened as you gestured to him. "So what was the idea for the project?"

"..Huh?"

"The project idea, Giyuu."

"O-Oh." He cleared his throat. "They say that moving around continuesly for at least one hour a day can be very good for your health. I was planning on measuring my strength and muscle mass and then proceeding to record myself exercising for one hour a day. It's mid October now and the project isn't due until the last day of November so the day before I turn it in, I'd measure my muscle build again and see if there was any change in strength or stamina."

Your eyes were wide in awe. "Giyuu, that's ingenious!" You smiled brightly! "Also that's a great idea! Let's do it!"

"Really?! You really think it's good?" You nodded. "In that case,  would you be alright with doing the project with me? I think two people doing the project might make make it more credible if there's more than one person with the result."

"Good idea! I'm busy with work and classes though so we'll have to do our hour exercises at noon except on the weekends. I'll give you my number and address. Tomorrow we can start after work. Sounds good?"

Again he nodded looking off to the side and rubbing at his neck. "S-Sure. Sounds..pretty....P-Pretty good." He added quickly at the end with his still blunt tone. "I-I'll talk to Shinobu about it tonight."

"I'll be sure to let Gyomei know too. For now let's get some food in us before we become skeletons."

[missdirection26]

Joel Millers hair was going to be the death of you (Chapter Two)

Summary: After the kiss at the dance, you wonder if anything else would come of it

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: Mature (just for swearing and drinking)

Tags: Jackson!Joel, Fluff, Angst with a happy ending, Romance, First Date

Chapter Two (Chapter One - here)

Also, finished this chapter as I wanted to join in @justagalwhowrites Joel Birthday Celebration, and this is a cutesy Jackson Joel with Friends to Lovers fic. I just want the old man to be happy and content, living out his life in Jackson with his family!

A few days had passed since the Winter Dance, but the memory of Joel’s kiss had haunted you every night. His scent—whiskey and woodsmoke—seemed to cling to your skin long after you'd parted ways. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and despite telling yourself you needed to move on, the yearning gnawed at you. Something had shifted between the two of you, and no amount of distilling could take your mind off it.

You were busy now, though. With the dance over, your operation had scaled back to a more manageable pace, and you were grateful to get back to some semblance of normalcy. Still, you couldn’t help but glance toward the door of your makeshift distillery every time you heard footsteps. Part of you knew it was irrational to expect him to just show up—but deep down, you wanted him to. The idea of Joel standing in your doorway again, maybe with that same look in his eyes from the dance, made your chest ache.

It was nearing dusk when there was a knock at the door. For a second, you hesitated, but before you could convince yourself it was someone else, you swung it open.

And there he was. Joel stood on your threshold, hands in his pockets, looking as if he’d been debating whether or not to knock for a while.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, rough.

“Hey yourself.” You stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

Joel hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside. His eyes scanned the distillery, the barrels lined up against the wall, the equipment you’d scavenged over the years. It wasn’t much, but it was yours, and it kept Jackson in good spirits - literally. He seemed to take it all in before his gaze landed back on you.

“I brought you somethin’,” he said, pulling a hand from his pocket. He held out a small wooden carving - a bird this time, wings spread wide as if in mid-flight. You smiled as you took it, turning it over in your hands.

“You spoil me, Miller,” you said, brushing your fingers over the finely carved details. “What’s the occasion?”

Joel’s eyes flickered toward the floor, then back up at you. He seemed to wrestle with his words, and for a moment, the two of you stood in the quiet hum of the distillery.

“Wanted to talk about the other night,” he finally said, his voice steady but cautious. “About… what happened.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a knot form in your throat. It wasn’t regret you felt- definitely not. But the uncertainty, the vulnerability that had come with that kiss, it all came rushing back. You hadn’t thought too much beyond the moment itself, hadn’t let yourself consider what it meant. Now, standing here in the soft glow of the distillery’s lights, you realised you couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“Joel…” you started, unsure where to begin. “That night - it was…” You trailed off, not wanting to call it a mistake, but unsure of how to describe it otherwise.

Joel stepped closer, his presence filling the space between you. His eyes softened as he looked at you, like he could see right through the walls you’d spent years building.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his voice a low rasp. “I don’t… I don’t have the right words, but I didn’t want to leave it hangin’ in the air. I ain’t blind - I know we’ve been dancin’ around somethin’ for a while now. And I need to know… if that’s what you want, too.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. For years, you’d thought Joel kept his distance, that he wasn’t interested in anything beyond the whiskey you traded and the occasional conversation. But here he was, laying it out in front of you like a hand of cards, waiting to see if you’d fold or match his bet.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t think you… I didn’t think you wanted that kind of thing.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that rumbled low in his chest. “I didn’t think I did either. But with you…” His words trailed off as he took another step closer, his hand reaching up, almost instinctively, to brush a stray hair from your face. His touch was gentle, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “With you, I’m thinkin’ maybe I do.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and for a long moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. This was Joel - gruff, hard-edged Joel - standing in your distillery and telling you he wanted more. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“I didn’t think I could do this again,” you admitted, surprising yourself with the confession. “After Talia, I just… I didn’t think I had it in me.”

Joel’s expression softened, and he took another step forward, until there was barely any space left between the two of you. “I get it,” he murmured. “I thought I’d lost that part of me, too. But you… you’ve been gettin’ under my skin for years now. Maybe it’s time we stop fightin’ it.”

You couldn’t help but let out a short, breathless laugh. “You make it sound so easy.”

His lips twitched into the faintest smile. “Ain’t nothin’ about this easy. But we’ve both survived worse, haven’t we?”

The air between you felt charged, like one wrong move could send the whole thing crashing down. But as Joel stood there, his hand still brushing against your cheek, you realised you didn’t want to back away from this. Not anymore.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, leaning into his touch. “We have.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Joel’s lips found yours again. This kiss wasn’t hesitant like the last - it was certain, slow, like the two of you had all the time in the world. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Joel rested his forehead against yours. “We can take this slow,” he murmured. “Figure it out as we go.”

You nodded, feeling something uncoil in your chest - something that had been wound tight for far too long.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I think I’d like that.”

And for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to feel hopeful.

–

The next few days after your conversation with Joel felt like a dream, a slow, simmering anticipation building in the quiet moments when you were alone. You didn’t know what to expect - Joel Miller wasn’t exactly the “romantic” type. Still, when he suggested you go on a “proper date” after his patrol, you had to suppress the giddy smile threatening to creep across your face. He told you to meet him by the grain store barn at sunset, and though he didn’t say much more, the subtle warmth in his eyes was enough to send your mind racing.

As the day drew closer, you tried not to think too much about it. You told yourself to keep it simple. After all, this was Joel - gruff, practical, no-nonsense Joel. It wasn’t going to be anything elaborate, and that was fine with you. But still, you found yourself lingering a little longer in front of the mirror, brushing your hair with more care than usual.

You made your way to the barn just as the sun began to sink below the horizon, casting the town of Jackson in soft shades of amber and pink. Your heart thrummed in your chest as you neared the building, half-expecting to find Joel leaning against the fence, all casual and unbothered like he usually was. But when you rounded the corner, you saw something entirely different.

Joel was there, all right, but he wasn’t just waiting. He’d set up a small table just outside the barn, far enough from the bustle of town that you’d have privacy, but close enough that the soft sounds of life still carried on the breeze. On the table sat two mismatched plates and a couple of candles - an attempt at elegance despite the rough surroundings. Next to the table was a small firepit he must have made earlier, its flames flickering gently in the dusk.

You blinked, completely taken aback. This was... more effort than you had expected. A lot more.

Joel stood there, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always did when he was nervous. When he saw your expression, he gave you a lopsided, slightly sheepish smile. “It ain’t much,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “But I figured we deserved somethin’... nice.”

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. “Joel, this is... this is more than nice. It’s perfect.”

He let out a breath he must’ve been holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Good. I wasn’t sure if you were the candlelight kinda girl.”

You chuckled softly, stepping closer to the table. “Normally, I’m not, but for you? I can make an exception.”

The fire crackled softly in the background as Joel pulled out the chair for you, his hand brushing yours as you sat down. There was a tension in the air - not the kind of tension you’d felt all those years when you were tiptoeing around each other, but something softer, more promising.

Joel sat across from you, and the two of you shared a comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth of the fire keeping the evening chill at bay. The flickering light cast soft shadows on Joel’s face, and you found yourself staring at him longer than you intended, memorising every detail - the lines etched into his skin, the silver threading through his sparse beard, the way his hair curled just above his ears (he still hadn’t cut it, thank whatever deity may be out there). He looked more at ease than you’d ever seen him, and that alone was enough to make your chest tighten.

After a moment, Joel reached into a small cooler at his feet and pulled out two bottles of beer - your beer. He handed you one with a grin. “Figured it’s only right, seein’ as you’re the expert.”

You laughed, accepting the bottle and taking a long sip. “You know how to charm a girl.”

Joel gave a low chuckle, taking a drink from his own bottle. “Wasn’t sure what to cook,” he said, nodding toward a small pot hanging over the fire. “But Ellie swore up and down I couldn’t screw up stew. So… stew it is.”

The mention of Ellie made you smile. You knew how much she meant to him - how the work he did around Jackson was always to keep her safe. The fact that he’d even mentioned this “date” to her was surprising, but it made you feel a little more grounded in whatever this thing between you was becoming.

“I’m sure it’s great,” you said, leaning back in your chair, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into your skin. “I’m not too picky. Anything cooked over a fire tastes better anyway.”

Joel gave a quiet hum of agreement, stirring the pot with slow, careful movements. He looked content, peaceful in a way that seemed foreign to both of you. You hadn’t seen Joel like this before - not so open, so relaxed. And you liked it.

As the stew simmered and the conversation flowed, you found yourselves slipping into the same comfortable banter that had always been there between you. Joel teased you about the time you accidentally mixed up batches of whiskey and moonshine, and you shot back about his less-than-graceful attempts at fixing the leaky roof on the distillery. It felt easy, natural, like nothing had really changed, even though everything had.

When the stew was ready, Joel served you both, and the two of you ate in the firelight, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. It was simple, but perfect, exactly what you both needed after years of surviving and making do with whatever scraps of happiness you could find.

After the meal, you leaned back in your chair, staring up at the night sky, the stars just beginning to blink into existence. Joel was quiet beside you, but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the intensity of it making your skin warm.

“What’re you thinking about?” you asked, glancing over at him.

Joel hesitated for a moment, then shook his head with a soft, almost embarrassed smile. “Just thinkin’ ‘bout how long I’ve been fightin’ this.”

“Fighting what?”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his eyes still fixed on you. “This,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “You. For years, I told myself I wasn’t ready. That I couldn’t… let anyone in again. But now… now I’m wonderin’ why the hell I waited so long.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting. You’d felt the same way - terrified of opening yourself up, of letting anyone get too close. But here you were, with Joel, on what was undoubtedly the best date you’d had in years. Hell, maybe the best date you’d ever had.

You smiled, reaching across the small table to take his hand in yours. “Maybe we just needed time,” you said softly, your thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand. “We both had a lot of walls to break down.”

Joel’s fingers tightened around yours, his grip firm but gentle. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, but when he finally looked up at you, there was something different in his eyes - something deeper, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen before.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Maybe you’re right.”

You stayed like that for a while, sitting in the quiet, your hands intertwined. It was enough. For the first time in a long time, you weren’t worried about what came next. You weren’t thinking about tomorrow, or the dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of Jackson. All that mattered was the here and now—the firelight, the stars, and the man sitting across from you, his hand warm in yours.

As the night wore on, the fire began to die down, the embers glowing faintly in the dark. Joel stood, offering you his hand to help you up, and when you took it, he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both protective and tender.

“You wanna walk me home, cowboy?” you teased, looking up at him with a grin.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “You know damn well I’m gonna, my mama would turn in her grave if I let a lady walk home alone.”

And with that, the two of you set off into the night, walking side by side.

[writememysticfalls]

Dive In | Stefan Salvatore

Summary: You're about to have sex with your boyfriend Stefan for the first time, but he can't get his ex-girlfriend out of his mind.

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x reader

Genre: Suggestive, Shirtless!Stefan, angst

Word Count: 1k

Stefan followed you up the stairs to your bedroom.

You were going to have sex for the first time tonight. Stefan would be lying if he said he hadn't fantasised about it.

“So… your aunt’s at a conference. Your brother is at a friend's house,” Stefan said. “What's the catch?”

“No catch,” you said, shutting the door and grinning at him. “Just us.”

You sat on the bed facing your mirror, and kicked off your shoes. You pulled your vest top over your head.

Stefan lay back on the bed, resting on his elbows, admiring the way the light caught the little spots of brown in your hair.

“As soon as my clothes are off, I'm diving under the blanket, okay? God, this part’s always so awkward,” you said.

But Stefan wasn't listening. A shiver ran through him. Cold sweat pooled at the base of his spine. He had spotted a brown mole, right in the centre of your back. Katherine had a mole on her back, too.

Suddenly, it was 1864 again.

He heard the sputter of the gas lamp in the corner. Katherine swept her curls away from her back, revealing the mole he loved - and angry red bite marks on her neck.

Stefan leapt forward, touching the marks.

“I see you've noticed my battle scars. Your brother has quite a nasty mouth,” Katherine teased.

Stefan felt only horror as he remembered that vampires healed within minutes. Katherine must have come straight from his brother’s room.

“Stefan,” you said, straddling him, and playing with his hair. “You okay?”

He nodded quickly. “Fine. Sorry. You're beautiful.”

You smiled, but your eyes were serious. “You do… want to do this, right?”

Stefan nodded, plastering on a smile. How could he explain the truth - that he was disturbed by how much you reminded him of Katherine?

He had felt this way a few times before. He would notice something - the way your voice got higher when you were annoyed, or your smirk when you told an innuendo - and he would feel a slight shiver of deja vu. But it had never been this bad.

You bit your lip, looking down, your body leaning over his.

Stefan noticed that your dark eyes still had that shyness of adolescence, which Katherine’s had never had. You were nothing like Katherine. Slowly and gratefully, he kissed you.

You kissed him back, then kissed a trail down his jaw and to his neck. This time, when he shivered from your wet lips, it was a good feeling.

And then, like a red wave, the memories flooded back.

Katherine, her lips on his neck. Suddenly, sharp teeth as she bit down into his flesh, sucking his blood. At first, the sting was bearable, but then it became an ache, spreading through his neck and to his chest. He imagined bleeding to his death, right there in his bed. He felt his eyelids flutter, panic making him drowsy.

“No,” he mumbled. “It hurts…. It hurts…”

You frowned at him. “Stefan! Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, no…” he said.

Stefan was getting angry at himself. Why should his life be ruined by a crappy relationship 150 years ago? Immortals couldn't get PTSD, for god’s sake. Katherine was in his head, in his bed, just when he was trying to connect to you. It wasn't fair.

He would just have to push through the fear and get over it. The first step was to make the situation as different to 1864 as possible.

Stefan lifted you with one hand and manoeuvred you so his body was on top of yours, a position Katherine never allowed.

Already, the panic of a moment ago was fading like a distant nightmare. Screwing his eyes shut, he kissed you again, with a passion that would silence all of your worries.

In a few minutes, your naked bodies were rocking to an even rhythm. Stefan felt a sense of victory bubbling up in him like lava. This was almost over. He could master his trauma from Katherine. He could be your man, in every way you needed him to be.

Then, he heard himself moan, from deep in his throat. Strangely, that was what reminded him of 1864.

“I love it when you moan for me, Stefan” Katherine said. His back was pressed against his bedroom wall, and Katherine’s mouth was all over him. Katherine’s lips brushed his ear as she whispered, “I can tell that Damon is listening just through that wall.” Stefan tried to stifle the sounds coming from his mouth, panic filling him, but Katherine only laughed. “Don't be afraid, darling. He loves the shows we put on for him.”

Stefan opened his eyes, forcing himself to look at you and see your wide, youthful eyes, so different from Katherine’s. However, the flashback remained.

Gasping for breath, Stefan rolled away from you, curling up into a ball. He had failed. Katherine had got in his head, and he hadn't been able to stop her.

For a long time, you just lay there by him, slowly stroking his back.

Finally, you said, “It was Katherine, wasn't it?”

Stefan turned, stunned. “You knew?”

You shrugged. “I guessed.”

“Do you wish I was more like her?” you said quietly, and Stefan could hear that you had avoided asking this question for a long time.

Stefan turned to you and took in your beautiful eyes and thick, wet lashes. “No. I promise you, if there is one thing that can save me from the memory of Katherine, it's you, Y/n. You're kind, you're selfless, you would die for your family - you're everything she wasn’t.” Stefan smiled. “We just might have to take things slow for a while.”

You kissed Stefan’s hand. “You can tell me things, you know. I might be young, but I've lived through stuff too.”

Stefan smiled. “I know.”

​—

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[manygreetingsfriend]

i’m sooooooo normal about the god of war series. so incredibly normal i liked it a normal amount and would be so chill talking about it. don’t worry about the sign