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lookingforlia · 12 hours ago

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sum: sylus responds to an online ad for a roommate. you suddenly have this tall, well-spoken, handsome man living in the attic, playing classical music, tinkering with things he built, and humming off-key while he makes you pancakes in the morning before disappearing for weeks at a time. cw: modern au, roommate au, slice of life, slow burn, mild language, brief mentions of violence & torture, evols exists here, mutual pining, romantic tension, brief jealousy, alcohol, 3k wc track list: le carrousel - james quinn fig. 1 | fig. 2 | fig. 3 | fig. 4

The air reeks of mildew, dust, sweat, and disinfectant.

A lone lightbulb winks tawny overhead, casting ominous shadows along the concrete floor and walls, highlighting the savagery taking place within.

Four men occupy the room.

Sylus is the only one seated on a chair like a throne, legs crossed—the paradigm of poised, twirling a folding knife between his fingers while a henchman stands in good form at his back.

The muffled screams have now dulled to wet whimpers. A grown man crying has never been a pretty sound. But Sylus has grown accustomed to it, sometimes dragging the fragmented remains of a man out himself.

He’s a good foot from the show, watching with all the interest of someone used to brutality. Lowered lids cloak vacant eyes. He sighs for the umpteenth time, leaning back, clearly bored with this game.

Lackey number two rucks up slicked sleeves, swiping the sweat from his brow before getting back to work.

The victim—a self-proclaimed freelancer discharged from a rival faction, boasting about having antimatter weapons to sell—snivels as Sylus’ henchman drags him across the floor. On his knees, ankles and wrists bound, breath shaky behind the bite of a makeshift gag, the man levels Sylus with a pleading look.

It’s fruitless. The kingpin is in no mood for mercy. He waggles his fingers, signaling for his henchman to begin another round of mind-warping torture.

Blood and viscera aren’t Sylus’ thing.

If he can help it, he prefers more neat, conventional methods for extracting information. Which is why he doesn’t flinch when the goon’s cries rise again as if he’s being electrocuted.

The lightbulb glints once more, and a moth beating its wings as it orbits it, casts a foreboding shadow below.

Sylus toys with the knife again, mind slowly detaching itself, when his phone lightly buzzes in his coat.

He catches the blade’s handle in his palm, fishes his cell from his inner pocket, and scrutinizes the screen. Arching a brow, his lips twitch, threatening to curl upward.

It’s a message from you, your name accented with a lone heart emoji.

When he draws up the text, your voice invades his mind. He envisions you all frazzled, dramatic as ever, and his heart swells from the imagery.

(You): help me!

It reads half-cryptic. He’s sitting up now, the knife returning to its home with a sharp shlink!

When he starts to feel an inkling of concern creeping in, thumb hovering over the keyboard, prepared to key in a response, another message comes through. It’s a picture of a menu, sharp print against cardstock, the restaurant's name scrawled in cursive at the top.

(You): don’t know how to read this. i’m hungry as hell and about to have a whole attitude. (You): heeeeellllp 🚨🚨🚨 (You): and don’t say escargot. i will literally fight you.

This time, he does allow his lips to pull in that Cheshire Cat sort of way. It’s endearing how you need him. How you rely on him to translate what you call “rich bastard speak.” Even if it’s for something minor, he’s grateful to be of use to you. You give him purpose in a world that bleeds grey. The shine of a lighthouse amid a tumultuous storm.

He’s been there before, the eatery you’re fretting over. They have good liquor and decent grilled scallops. He’s about to send back a personal rec, but then it strikes him—the gleam of silver in the photo’s corner, half-hidden by the menu, but glaringly obvious.

An expensive watch wrapped around a wrist that’s inherently masculine catches his eye. Bigger than yours, veins and sinew spilling from the links down to manicured nails.

Sylus’ jaw ticks.

He knows you’re on your lunch break. Has your schedule down to a science, pocketing it in case he has to do something irreversible to clear his tracks. He’s aware that you primarily work with women—you sometimes vent about the things they do and don’t, using him as a confidant whenever your day is too heavy to shoulder.

And maybe he’s done background checks on all of them, ensuring they wouldn’t pose a problem later. To you and him.

But you’ve never spoken of a man working in your small, hodgepodge department. A man too close for Sylus’ comfort. Casual familiarity that makes his eyes narrow.

He’s already chased off one deranged ex. He’d rather not come back to you missing while he’s in another city conducting business.

(Sylus): whos that sweetie? (You): ??? (Sylus): the tudor watch. (Sylus): in the corner. friend of yours? (You): oh! intern. he’s cool peeps. i’m like 6 years older than him and he keeps reminding me. 🙄🙄🙄

Sylus certainly does not release the quietest, most relieved breath. And the rigid set of his shoulders doesn’t slacken upon discovering that you’re not secretly courting someone without his knowledge.

It’s not stalking. It’s ensuring his assets are secured.

(You): anyway, can you help me? you know i don’t understand this fancy shit. (Sylus): avoid the rack of lamb. its a bit overseasoned. (You): lol (You): you forget who you’re talking to. i sprinkle seasonings on my food until my ancestors whisper, “enough, child.”

He chuckles something throaty, something endeared. And he doesn’t realize he’s let his guard down until his henchman shifts behind him, clearing his throat. Sylus cuts his eyes over his shoulder, daring the man to utter a word. He doesn’t, straightening his tie and returning his attention to the scene ahead.

(Sylus): it might be a bit overpowering even for you sweetie. (Sylus): go for the duck confit or the grilled halibut. those are more your tastes. (You): thank youuuuu! 🙏🙏🙏 (Sylus): pair it with a glass of pinot gris. (You): gesundheit. (Sylus): and be sure to introduce me to your new intern friend before he whisks you out on a date next time. (You): 😛😛😛 (You): jealous?

Sylus doesn’t do jealous. It’s never been a word in his repertoire. Possessive, maybe. A little overprotective, sure. But jealousy suggests uncertainty—belly-baring surrender. Weakness—and Sylus is everything but weak.

He keys in a response that he knows will have you tipping out of your chair.

(Sylus): jealousy would imply that youre not already mine sweetie.

He can virtually hear the cogs turning in your mind when you take a few beats to respond. The resulting surprised dog meme you send makes him stifle that rich man’s laugh behind his hand.

You’re cute. Do you know that?

Leaving you with something to think about, he concludes your playful exchange.

(Sylus): have fun.

Peeling himself from the chair, he shoves his hands into his pockets, the arms of his coat dramatically fluttering behind him when he turns to exit the warehouse.

He pays no mind to the cries of agony behind him. Just clips over his shoulder to a stationary henchman by the entrance, “Finish up quickly.”

The sooner he cuts out the middlemen, the quicker the suppliers will start sniffing around themselves.

—

It’s a little past 6 pm when the front door’s lock jiggles.

Good. Perfect timing.

“You’re home early,” you call from the fridge when that messy thatch of white appears in the doorway.

He stiffens, taking a little time to appraise you like he didn’t expect you to be home. You snort, kicking the fridge door shut, a handful of grapes clutched in your hand.

You pop one into your mouth, leaning on the countertop. Syus approaches after toeing off his loafers and dropping his coat on the rack. The particles in the air seemingly bend and shift to accommodate him.

You try not to get hung up on what he said earlier—you know, when he insisted you were his.

Maybe he’d been drinking himself. You had a little Pinot at his behest to combat your flaring nerves. To knock a little sense into yourself.

“Why do you look like someone hacked Mephisto?” you jibe, trying to lighten the mood.

Sylus’ expression morphs into something easier. Something more like him as his lips pull into that familiar smirk. Without warning, he swipes a grape from your palm, and his eyes shine with a challenge as he deposits it in his mouth.

“Why do you look like you’re up to no good?” he returns in that deep gravel, tone threaded with a tenderness you’ve never heard expressed elsewhere.

Your jaw shifts. He’s lucky he’s cute. The pinnacle of manliness. Handsome as all hell. You’ve never known someone to make something as simple as eating look hot.

Clearing your throat, you swipe some invisible dust off the counter after finishing off the last of your grapes. “Not up to anything bad. But since you’re home, you can watch a movie with me.”

The silence hangs for a moment. You glance up to see your roomie eyeing you with an intrigued brow. He reaches over the counter to flick your forehead. He’s trying to scramble your brain matter, you just know it.

“Do I have a say in the matter, or are you just going to manipulate me with those dangerous eyes of yours?”

Your heart was already rabbiting in your chest. It works double time now, and your stomach drops to your feet. You’re stricken with something cold. Something halfway pleasant.

Oh. Oh, he was flirting, wasn’t he?

Opting for coy, you tug at some frayed threads at the end of your sweatshirt, caught between a laugh and a scoff.

“Unless you’ve got some mysterious phone calls to take, you’re mine for the night. You owe me for babysitting Mephie. You know he secretly wants to murder me.” And for leaving me all by my lonesome again, you inwardly add.

If at all possible, his smirk deepens until a dimple craters his cheek. You have pins and needles in your legs. What the fuck even is breathing?

“Doubt that. He’s programmed to…appreciate pretty things.” The way his eyes slide to you as pretty things leaps off his tongue—

You typically keep the AC low for the summer. Pretty comfortable for you both. But it feels it’s reached boiling point in your quaint kitchen as your skin grows embarrassingly hot.

After a deep breath to get your head together, you move to the pantry to fish out some popcorn. Your movements are noticeably stiff as you tear through the plastic, not daring to turn around, lest he get a look at that crooked smile on your face.

“Batman it is,” you say, loud enough for him to hear above the beep of the microwave when you set the timer.

You feel him between your shoulder blades. Drilling down to the marrow with those brilliant, scarlet eyes before he huffs a laugh, tapping the counter. You peer over your shoulder as he pulls away, disappearing across the house, probably towards his room to change.

He comes back down while you powder the popcorn with seasonings. He’s over your shoulder, static growing between your bodies. And you get a whiff of his worn cologne, of the clean cotton laundry detergent woven into the fibers of his shirt.

You move to the fridge, rifling through it to give your hands purpose. Something to occupy them, to keep them from shaking as you sort through your wine stash.

“What goes best with popcorn? I’ve got red, white, pink—oh, something I bought ‘cause the label looked cute.”

Propped against the counter’s edge beside you, arms crossed over that unfairly solid chest, Sylus shakes his head. “How about a glass of Michter’s 25? Bourbon pairs best with popcorn.”

“Uh, sure?”

You’re not entirely sure how the two mix. Probably something about the dolce colliding with the saltiness. Whatever. You like surprises. Your roomie’s always had pretty good taste.

He shoulders past you to reach for something at the top of the pantry. Amber gleams in an intricately designed bottle clutched in his hand. You give him a look, haughtily throwing some popcorn into your mouth.

“Has that been up there the whole time?”

You track him with your eyes as he draws two lowball whiskey glasses from the cupboard, then fetches some ice from the freezer. His expression’s amused while he pours. He plucks the glasses from the counter, signaling you to follow him to the living room.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to find it, seeing that you’re the height of a gopher. I’d say I found a pretty good hiding spot for it.”

He laughs that bewitching, throaty sound, effortlessly avoiding your foot aimed at his ankle to trip him up.

—

The TV swaddles you in its sporadic lighting as each scene unfolds.

You turned down all the lights, save for the one above the stove, to add to the ambience. The sounds of scuffling and explosions fill your living room, with occasional quips from your roomie about the exaggerated action and how unrealistic the mobsters are.

There’s familiarity in the way you sit on the couch. In how Sylus idly smooths his thumb over your ankle, propped in his lap, beneath a throw blanket. He put up with you shoving your cold feet under his thighs to pilfer his warmth until he tickled your feet and allowed you to use him as a footrest.

One of his arms is draped along the backrest, clutching his half-drunk glass. He paces himself. You’re already on your third.

He turns to you with a twitch of a smile whenever he feels you staring at something other than the screen. Squeezes reassurance into your ankle before pretending like he’s consumed by the movie.

That Michter, whatever-the-hell it was called? It’s smooth. Dangerous. It crept into your bloodstream when your guard was down, and your head’s a little fuzzy. Skin warm and tingly, inhibitions slowly sloughing off.

You’re on your sixth round of Sylus-watching when the doorbell chimes. Both your gazes snap to its source.

“I’ll get it,” says Sylus, tapping your foot for you to let him up, and setting his glass onto the coffee table with a soft clack.

You shake your head, feeling like you’re swimming through molasses, eyes all low, smile goofy. “Nah. I got it.”

It’s a feat. Almost losing a fight with the blanket, you make it to the door. Sylus snorts behind you. The delivery driver is kind as he hands you your pizza and receipt.

Somehow, you make it back to the living area. You’re a mess of giggles and sluggish limbs as you fall back onto the sofa beside Sylus after dropping the pizza box onto the coffee table. So close, you could conquer the distance with an exhale.

His thigh’s warm beside yours. Devastating. You contemplate grabbing it, letting your fingers test the rigidness of his quad under the pretense of being tipsy.

He closes the distance for you as if parsing through your nebulous thoughts.

There’s no preamble. No remarkable setup when his arm slips from the backrest to snake around your shoulders. It’s a loose hang. Not tight, giving you room to wiggle free if you’re uncomfortable. You peer up into his face, and his eyes crease with something you mistake for affection beneath the glinting light of a chase scene.

The movie’s no longer interesting. It hasn’t been for a while. You’re warm inside, unsure if it’s a consequence of the alcohol or his proximity. Regardless, you toy with his fingers near your shoulder, smooth over his knuckles, testing the waters.

He makes no move to deter you, instead sinking deeper into the couch, legs spreading a little wider, hold on you a little more confident. He tugs you into his side without really thinking, fingers burning through the layers of skin on your arm.

Your hands drop to his ribcage to ground yourself through the slurry haze of inebriation and infatuation. His heart is steady in his chest, whereas yours bangs like a war call. You’re close enough to bury your face into the hollow of his shoulder. That warm scent he carries is enough to soften your knees, your jaw.

Moving on autopilot—or maybe you’re fully aware of what you’re up to—you pitch yourself closer. So close, you’re halfway across his lap, watching his Adam’s apple bob beneath the blue wash of light. Your eyes flit to those full lips, slightly parted, quivering. Those pretty lashes sweeping his cheeks, those scarlet eyes jumping like cinders in a hearth fire beneath.

Your head tilts up. He meets you halfway. Draws you closer, and you roost your hands on his chest as your lids droop. As his lips pan in.

But the union never comes.

He hesitates for a beat. Hovers, a breath left between your mouths. Shaky, ragged, hot. He drops his forehead to yours, his grip on your arm tight, and he forces out an anguished sigh.

“You’ve been drinking, sweetie,” he says, hoarse, barely restrained, almost like he’s reminding himself instead of you.

You giggle, trying to tamp down your nerves. The disappointment flaring like plasma ejections across the sun’s surface beneath your skin. “So have you.”

He huffs through his nose, lips pulling into a tired smile. “Yes. But I’m also better at holding my liquor.”

“Says who?”

His gaze consumes you. Like liquid spilled over smoldering coals. He gathers your cheek into his palm, so tender as he thumbs over your chin, your bottom lip. He watches it when he tugs down, how it snaps back into place, how full it is, and you can sense the edges of his resolve fraying like a rock face worn down by the surf.

“You’re warm. You can barely keep your eyes open.” His voice drags pleasantly along with his fingers along the skirt of your jaw. “You can hardly sit upright, sweetheart. If I do this now, I won’t be able to stop.”

Quivering fingers close around his wrist. You adjust on the couch until your knees meet the side of his thigh, nuzzling your molten cheek into his palm, head reeling. “Who says you have to?” you counter, voice crackling. Pleading.

He presses your foreheads together again. Your eyes slip shut as he slides his fingers into the space between yours, guiding your hand to his mouth instead for a kiss. He’s warring with himself. Berating himself for even letting things get this far.

He draws back slothfully, like it stings, like he’s leaving a bit of himself with you. And maybe he is, his defenses halfway buried beneath the floor. The moment hangs between you, stretched like the fragile spindles of a spider’s web. He doesn’t want to break the spell. You don’t want him to, either.

“Not yet,” he rasps, settling against the cushions once more and drawing you back into his side. “Not like this. You’ll thank me in the morning, sweetheart.”

Somehow, you have a hard time believing that, a wobbly pout taking hold of your lips.

It annoys you to no end.

Sylus is a man who doesn’t take what he isn’t given freely. Coherently. He’s such a fucking gentleman, you want to punch him sometimes. This emotional warfare is maddening.

Still, you curl into his side, burying your face into the nook of his neck to chase that heady scent. His pulse quickens, a sharp intake of breath when your lips graze his carotid, before he rests his chin on the crown of your head. He smooths over the goosebumps flaring over your arm as the credits roll, offering a quiet apology.

Another almost. Another could-have-been. Another bout of shitty timing.

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lookingforlia · 1 month ago

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How would we feel if I suddenly started writing about DR zayne from love and deepspace ?

#lads #miraculous ladybug #lads zayne #love and deepspace

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lookingforlia · 2 months ago

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I don't hate kids . I hate that I'd be bringing them into a world that cannot provide them basic human rights or safety to live in.

you don't "hate kids," you hate being forced into a caretaking role.

you don't "hate kids," you hate censorship passed off as family values.

you don't "hate kids," you hate the constrictiveness of the nuclear family.

you don't "hate kids," you're just not used to occupying fully age diverse spaces so you're not used to the noise or the many different kinds of needs.

you don't "hate kids," most public spaces just aren't built for kids, and so the few kids you see are always uncomfortable and distressed.

you don't "hate kids," you hate the intense social rules assigned to kids and anyone who interacts with kids.

You don't "hate kids," you hate how society reproduces its most restrictive elements and how kids are powerless to resist it.

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lookingforlia · 2 months ago

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LaDs Story:

When you suddenly wake up in Linkon City (Part 20-2)

Pairing: Zayne x reader

Content: isekai!reader, twin!MC, fluff, hurt, angst, romance - we have it all, spoilers for myths and main story, use of evol, mentioning of drugs and medicinal abuse for the sake of science, light use of violence and evol

Word Count: ~1200

Authors Note: Part two of what happened at each of the boys location. Again, reader is not in a good condition.

Masterlist

<<Previous Part 🦄 Part One 🦄 Next Part>>

The mission briefing—if he could even tell it that way—was not quite the disaster that Zayne had anticipated. Instead, the planning went effective and peaceful apart from the little commotion that Rafayels revelation about the true name and position of their newest companion had caused.

Everyone had heard of Sylus, the ruler of the N109 zone. But nobody expected it to be a guy who was involved with the most important person in their lives or her spitting image, the one that miraculously arrived here days before.

And it worried Zayne, more than he was ready to admit. So many men in your life, some with ambiguous intentions and some with mysteries that cling onto them like shadows, but all wielding so much power, like himself.

With a frown upon his dark brows, Zayne arrives at one of the side entrances and slips an ID card through the little device screwed to the gray wall beside a metal door. He acquired this key card from one of the scientists who was about to leave the ground when Zayne appeared behind him. He knocked him out with a skilled hit to the left kidney and prepared a piece of cloth with chloroform that he pressed into the victim’s face and sent him into unconsciousness. Old School but effective without the need to seriously harm the person. Sometimes it’s quite handy to know the weak spots of the human body that lead to a short blackout or immense pain. This is nothing he would use just like that. But extreme situations call for desperate measures, at least once in a while.

The doctor on a mission finds a changing room where he anticipated one. He disguises himself as one of the researchers working here and makes his way through clinical halls and corridors, greeting others as they pass by. Nothing gives away that Zayne doesn’t belong here. Wandering through the building he examines some rooms up closer, gathering files and carrying them like work documents through the gigantic facility. The papers contain interesting reports about experiments and information he can’t investigate now. But he will later.

Only as he descends deeper, hitting some restricted areas he gets nervous and more cautious. The security standards here are higher than before and the risk of discovery rises. Soon he finds the intel that Zayne seeks: the number and floor where they hide a special experiment, a young woman that suits your description. And some other stuff that’s quite interesting. Multiple corridors and stairways later he finally arrives at the designated goal, a thick metal door, locked with an AFIS — an automated fingerprint identification system. Zayne grinds his teeth, not what he hoped for but there is no other choice. He places his index finger on it, but before the device begins to scan a white cold layer starts to spread over the pad, apart from his limp that is firmly pressed into the scanner. More and more ice covers the pad and only a few seconds later the whole device is frozen, layered in white frosty snow.

With an audible click, it unlocks as the system fails to keep functioning. Confidential Zayne pulls the metal lever at one side and the door glides aside along the wall. He is greeted by a clinical white room, only filled with an examination table. The metal plate shimmers coldly in the bright light that flickers to life at his entrance. There a body is secured with silvery straps at her ankles and wrists, the female figure only covered with a layer of thin white cloth. The hair is cut short, a few contacts patched on the head, and the attached cables lead to some devices that beep regularly and unperturbed by the intruder.

Zayne steps closer, filled with shock and horror. Whatever they have done to you, you don’t look like the young woman he saw at your latest heart checkup. Your cheeks are sunken, your hair has lost its shimmer and your skin is as pale as the figures he once made you with his Evol.

With practiced ease, he frees you from the cables and contacts. He also opens up the cuffs that bind you to the metallic table. You don’t even stir awake as he cradles you carefully in his arms and leaves the room with you. And as fate is on his side, he hears various explosions, and a deafening alarm goes off. “Sylus. Right on time.” Zayne whispers into the out-spreading panic that stirs all scientists, researchers, and guards to leave their designated spots and hurry in the direction of the commotion. Just as they have planned in that abandoned bar before. And with you in his arms, Zayne exits the building like he entered before, undisturbed by anyone because they’re all too busy to run out of the building as fast as they can. He even hears someone screaming “A monster is trying to break into the main hall!” And then a horrible roar is heard like a giant monster has come to devour the world.

But he has no time to dwell on it, not with you in his arms and a condition that requires his immediate examination. Fastening his steps he hurries to get back to the bar where it all started, determined to bring you into safety. Your body looks so malnourished and abused that he rather not know what happened to you. But it must be horrible when you appear to be imprisoned here for years instead of days or two weeks.

Entering the bar he is already greeted by one of the Twins. “Welcome back, Doc! Who do you have there?“

Zayne frowns slightly about that question, but he has no time for this kind of conversation. “I need a bed for her and medical supplies. Her body is in a horrible state and I want to check her immediately.” he hurries through the large main room, searching for something he could place you on. As he passes a small booth he sees Xavier lying beside someone and Zayne catches a glimpse of you, sleeping peacefully in the arms of the silver-haired hunter. Startled, he freezes, his brain needing a few moments to progress what he sees before turning to the twin that followed him “She’s with Xavier now?”

The young man behind a black mask nods “Yes. The Light guy brought her back. Seems there are more than just two…”

Zayne frowns. „Apparently. However, this is an issue we need to solve later. I still need a room for her.“ and than he adds “Is she alright iver there ir does she need medical help?”

A hand seeps under the black hood the other men is wearing, scratching the back of his head sheepishly “She doesn’t seem in a critical state, but a healthy look is something else.”

Zayne, nie in full doctor mode just nods a he rishes into a room the masked twin guides him to, laying his patient on a leather sofa that is freed fron his white cloth cover. Not perfect but it has to do, he thinks before directing some words to his companion “I’ll check the other one later. She here has priority. Fsther my equipment fron the car and bring me some towels and water after.”

The cold, professional tone leaves no place for refusal and so the young man answers without hesitation “Yes, Doc!” before vanishing to do what he was commanded.

Mentioning List: @homurasturtle - @apric-t - @yashiro-arisugawa - @ladyparamount - @nadinefromwhere - @sato-baka - @ghoulishnero - @cinnamonrizz - @crystalfay - @dribbles4life - @m00nchildwrites - @yandere-kou - @star-likes-fictional-people - @mafuyusingtome - @kclremin

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lookingforlia · 3 months ago

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LaDs Story:

When you suddenly wake up in Linkon City (Part 19)

Pairing: Rafayel x reader

Content: isekai!reader, twin!MC, fluff, hurt, angst, romance - we have it all, spoilers for myths and main story, use of evol

Word Count: ~1900

Authors Note: I prepared this chapter weeks ago and finally it’s time for it! 😍 And the reason why there’s another chapter this fast. The next will take a while again, so don’t set your hopes too high for another one this quick 🤭

Masterlist

<<Previous Part 🦄 Part One 🦄 Next Part>>

You hurry after him, not sure why, only that you can’t let him go on this dangerous mission without talking to him. You want to say so much to Rafayel, firstly that you are sorry that you commanded him to stay back enabling Sylus to leave with you. Then why does he act so cold? Lastly, you have a bad feeling about this whole situation. Something feels odd, and the fear that you won’t see him again gnaws at you.

That is why fast steps carry you through the deep gray and dusty fog of the N109-Zone, the shadows of the high buildings eating all the surrounding light. Soon you lose Rafayel’s dark hooded figure in the pitch-black surroundings and your pace gets slower and slower.

A tall wire fence appears in front of you. Nearly popping out in the dim twilight of these early morning hours as you reach the end of that alley you scooted through in search of Rafayel, and the light left behind by dawn is back. But the fog has gotten stronger, and you can’t see more as in the darkness of that backstreet you just left.

For a second it feels like you have lost him as you’re unsure how to overcome this obstacle as something catches your eye. A tiny black leather cloth piece hangs at a part of the wire and with a closer look you discover a hole in the pattern of the fence and as you touch it, it grows big enough to slip through. With deliberate movements, you do so and the wire behind you falls back into its place, nearly hiding the breach. Did where Rafayel came along here?

All nerves on the edge you continue on your path. You’re now on Ever’s ground and if any of the patrolling guards catch you, it’s over. A few meters ahead the building comes into sight, and you slip into its shadow, keeping yourself close to the stone wall. The fog has thickened to a solid mass, and it’s hard to see further than a few steps. This helped you to stay undiscovered so far, but it also made it more difficult to find the Lemurian.

Then you have suddenly turned around with something grabbing your shoulder and your rear side is touching a cold wall. A body is pressed against yours and Rafayels low voice whispers into your ear. “Shush. Don’t make a sound, there are guards nearby.”

It’s his leather-clothed chest that is flushed at yours and his face is only inches away from yours. It’s barely visible in the shadows of the narrow spot he’s guided you into, a small booth in the gray walls of the Ever building. His bluish-pink eyes are sparkling lightly, mustering yours with curiosity and a twinge of something else… Anger? Surprise? You don’t know, and your heart starts beating faster behind the cage of your ribs.

But it doesn’t matter as heavy steps near your position, and you hold your breath. A guard! None of you is moving as the footsteps cross your position and leave without taking notice of the figures that are pressed close together in that little booth in the wall. Rafayel’s dark attire hides you successfully in the pitch-black shadows.

As the patrol has gone, the assassin’s face is still turned in the direction of the human who left your hideout unnoticed. “Why were you following me?” The Lemurian asks you silently, his voice barely above a whisper and even more muffled through his mask. His eyes flicker to you before he observes the surrounding area again.

After taking some stuttering breaths you mouth back at him “Couldn’t let you go like that.”

That gets Rafayels full attention and now the blue and pink of his irises is focused on you, close as never before and your heart skips a beat. If it weren’t for his mask your lips would touch, and his breath coming out beneath the seams of his leather barrier tickles your cheeks.

“You didn’t hesitate to leave me back then.” a little accusation swings in the whispered words.

The heart between your ribs starts to fasten its pace even more, now frantically pumping blood through your system. Rafayel’s closeness makes it hard for you to think, but the hurt in his voice brings you back to your senses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to command you this way, just wanted to prevent you from fighting with Sylus.” eyes bored into him to underline your sincerity “I didn’t know that would happen as I called out to you. I was afraid that something bad would have taken place that I accidentally commanded you without thinking.”

“Why did you go with him?” is another serious question from the Lemurian, and now you feel how desperate he is to hear the answer from you, how furious he is about your leaving with Sylus.

“We needed his help, Rafayel, and he wanted me as a prize. I agreed to his conditions and that’s simply as it is,” you answer helplessly. Why does it even matter to him? You’re not his beloved, shouldn’t he be glad that Sylus was able to help?

All you hear from Rafayel is an upset “Tsch!” as he moves his face away to check the surroundings again.

You sneak up a hand in the claustrophobic space to the smooth leather on his chest, placing your palm close to his heart, and with a tight feeling in your breast you add “I saw how you suffered from being away from her, how it gnawed on you that you weren’t able to find her and I couldn’t stand it. I want you to be happy, you deserve it.” your voice wavering at the last words. Is it that hard for him to understand? You did it for him, for his sake, for his love.

Your heart feels heavy and aches. A sudden hot tear drops down your cold cheek at the fact that you would be giving up everything, even your own life to keep the Lemurian safe and happy. You realize that you fell in love with him, utterly and without any restraints—Not only a crush anymore. Oh, you’re so stupid, you curse yourself inwardly as another tear accompanies the first one.

The salty witnesses of your devotion for him are caught with a thumb in black leather before they reach the edge of the jaw as his hands cup your face with tenderness.

Rafayels forehead comes to rest on yours, the hood of his attire enveloping the side of both your faces. And the only thing you hear is the heavy breathing from the man that owns your heart and his hoarse whispered words through his mask “Silly girl…”

Then he eases back, freeing you from the confinement of his caging body. His hand entwined with yours, Rafayel starts pulling you along the gray stone facade of Ever’s laboratories with firm and soundless steps.

“Maybe it’s good that you’re here. With your Evol you should be able to find her, tracking down the frequency of her.” he changes the topic as he drags you with him through a hidden door in the building.

Confused, you don’t fight against his lead, trying to keep up with his steps now laced with urgency as you both hurry along a brightly lit hallway. “Wh- What?” you don’t know what he is talking about.

Rafayel stops by opening a door that leads to an internal staircase. The metal stairs let you either step deep down to the basement or higher up to countless floors.

After a quick look around he pulls you both through, closing the door without making a sound, turning and whispering “Resonate with the world around you and try to find that frequency that resembles your own. Should be easy for you, Cutie.” he winks and pokes your cheek playfully with his gloved index finger.

You only stare at him and a few seconds later. “Are you sure about that? What’s with your fishie sense? And did you forget what happened the last time? I can’t control it!” you whisper, filled with panic. Is he crazy? Now? In a place like this, he wants you to use your evol? Which you hardly know how to do properly?

His ocean eyes lock into you and with a caress of your cheeks, he hushes back “When it spares us the time to search every nook and cranny, yeah then I’ll risk it. And you’re strong, Cutie! You can do it!”

His faith in you is nice you have to admit, but he didn’t answer your other question. This evasive fishie! “And why don’t you try to rely on your own tracking method? What’s with that?” you insist.

Rafayel lets go of your face and takes a step back to observe the staircase closer in its ups and downs. “I can’t,” he admits quietly. “It’s not working anymore.”

Stunned you step closer to him again, this time it’s you cupping his face with both hands and forcing him to look at you “What do you mean it’s not working anymore?” and the blue and pink of his eyes widen in cute rounds, startled by your sudden proximity.

An adorable red hue creeps into his cheeks and suddenly shy he frees himself of your hold and looks to the side “I can’t tell you yet…” his hoarse wavers, and then he adds more firmly “and it doesn’t matter now, we need to find her before Sylus sets up hell at the main entrance.”

And with new energy, he takes your hand in his “Please, try it.” ocean eyes now begging and pleading for your help.

And of course, you fall for it, as if you ever could withstand it when Rafayel looks at you like this. It’s your weakness, always was in the game, and it’s no different in reality. With a little sigh you surrender and close your eyes.

In the dark behind your lids, you try to blend out the world. Rafayel, everything that distracts you from your inner being. You don’t know what you’re doing, but somehow there’s a flicker in your senses. A faint vibration that feels like yourself, and then more. Three more to be exact. You decide to focus on the one that seems the closest, and you know where to go—down.

You open your eyes again and meet Rafayel, bending to observe your face. You push him back by his shoulder and walk toward the metal stairs that lead down to the basement. “I felt it, let’s go.”

The eyes of the Lemurian sparkle and he follows you to take the steps down. “I knew it! You’re amazing, Cutie!”

And like that, you make your way down to the last floor. Sneaking through some clinical white hallways with cold lighting, avoiding the scientists and cameras that are crossing your path as you come to stand before an inconspicuous metal door. Nothing reveals what lies behind it, but your feeling tells you enough.

She’s there. Right behind that door.

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lookingforlia · 3 months ago

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LaDs Story:

When you suddenly wake up in Linkon City (Part 18)

Pairing: Rafayel x reader (appearance all)

Content: isekai!reader, twin!MC, fluff, hurt, angst, romance - we have it all, spoilers for myths and main story

Word Count: ~2000

Authors Note: Finally we’re getting started with the rescue mission and meeting up with the boys again! How will the reunion with Rafayel play out?

Masterlist

<<Previous Part 🦄 Part One 🦄 Next Part>>

Soon after, you arrived at the place where Sylus told the others to meet. He said at dawn, but it’s not really one here in the N109 Zone. The sky is still obscured, brightened by a dark gray twilight and the sun is a mere half-round on the firmament, barely recognizable in the surrounding veil of dusty clouds.

You leave the motorcycle behind Sylus, the one he chose for this, and you need a second to gather your senses. The ride was wild and fast, your legs trembling from the force you applied to the vehicle in fear of falling off. Sylus’s rear side is broad, but it couldn’t hold back the winds that pressed against you during the ride. It was both exciting and terrifying and a part of you is disappointed that it has ended. The other part is happy you don’t have to hold onto Sylus for dear life any longer.

You spot some figures standing around a sleek silver car that is parked in front of an inconspicuous house, maybe Zayne’s, witnessing what appears to be a little argument. The bright hair of Xavier shines in the dim light, a stark contrast to the dark attire he’s wearing. It’s not his ordinary hunter uniform, these clothes are far more elegant and unique. A long dark coat embroidered with golden ornaments, interwoven with red elements. A silvery shiny mask darkened with some black color is held by one of his hands. You recognize his garment immediately: the dark version of his Lumiere Costume. Oh, how badly you wanted it back in the game but couldn’t afford to pull for it. How ironic that you see it now, live and in full color, you sadly smile to yourself as you step closer.

The other person is Zayne, wearing a thick black coat with a silver brooch. It makes him look darker and… grim. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he listens with a stoic face to what Xavier is saying to him in a lowly voice. “We shouldn’t trust this guy at all.” you hear the hunter's last words as you and Sylus come to stand near them.

Both turn their heads to you with your arrival. “Are you alright?” Zayne is the first to speak, ignoring Xavier’s words and hazel eyes roam over your body, observing and examining your state.

“Yes, I am.” you nod and send him a smile that is meant to comfort him, but instead he raises only one of his eyebrows.

“I want to see it myself if you don’t mind.” His voice is calm but leaves no room for you to refuse. Zayne gestures to sit on the edge of the trunk as he opens it with a click on the little remote he fished out of one pocket of his dark coat.

Hesitantly you close the distance to him and obediently sit down to let him examine your no longer wounded side as you hear Sylus’s amused whiskey voice. “Afraid I did something to her, Doctor?” a mocking smirk appears on his face as you gaze back at him since he didn’t follow you. “No need to worry about that.” he continues as Zayne doesn't respond to him. “She is always safe with me.”

A flicker of confusion crosses the face of the black-haired man in front of you as he prepares a medical kit that he took out from the space you’re sitting in. “Lift your clothes please” he orders you with that soothing timbre and out of reflex you immediately follow it. Something with Zayne always makes you listen to him without thinking, and you don’t know why. Cool fingers tracing your non-injured skin and surprise lightens up the hazel green eyes.

“So the doctor knows how to tame that fierce kitten. Fascinating.” you hear Sylus mumbling. Perplexed, your gaze shoots at him once more. Is he jealous?

But you can’t ponder over it any longer as Zayne draws your attention back. “There is no wound.” and once again you’re captured in those green-brown orbs that are so beautiful as he hovers in front of you just mere inches away. “How’s that possible?” his hot breath tickles your cheeks and the proximity heats your face.

Coughing your turn to look away. “It’s…- uhm…” You’re not sure if it is okay to speak so openly about the power of Linkon’s most wanted criminal, but Sylus decides for you.

“Blame my Evol, Doctor Zayne. A lucky side effect from our resonance. Nothing to be worried about.” The white-haired man sounds like a smug cat saying it, you can’t refuse the impression that he is very proud of this result.

And for a brief second, you catch a glimpse of unease on Zayne’s handsome face. “You resonated with him?” he asks you and his gaze is downright intimidating as he places both of his hands at your side on the edge of the trunk. His words are whispered as he continues with some underlying anger “Why did you do that? Did he force you to do it?”

Your eyes go wide at this sudden tension between the both of you and your heart starts beating at a fastened pace. Now Zayne is even closer to you, and you feel his breath on your lips and the scent of his exquisite cologne overwhelms your sense of smell. Startled you stutter “I—I’m sorry…”

Then a black-gloved hand is placed on the shoulder of the one that had you caged effortlessly between his muscular arms. “Doctor.” Xavier’s voice cuts through the haze you had fallen into as those hazel nebulas captured you. The hunter forces Zayne to ease back, glacier blue eyes calm but hiding a cold threat that dissolves the moment they lock on you. “We were worried about you after you vanished with him.” a short flicker to Sylus who still hadn’t moved from his previous spot. “I’m happy you’re fine and no longer injured.” the hand on Zayne’s shoulder tightened again “There is nothing to examine anymore. Am I right Doctor?”

You’re sure to hear an underlying threat in Xavier’s usually soft voice, but you aren’t certain since the other man retreats and closes his bag with a click that echoes into the night. “Apparently That’s the case.” he exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose in slight exhaustion. “Let’s get this done and plan on how to approach this little ...” he hesitates for a second “… mission.”

Zayne draws back, giving you some space again, and Sylus walks, now standing in front of the house that appears utterly bland, perfectly hiding between all the other buildings. “Let’s get in and talk there without possible unwanted attention.”

“Where is Rafayel?” you finally ask into the round as you enter the house. You have been painfully aware that the Lemurian was nowhere to be seen upon your arrival, and you’re afraid he won’t show up because of you. Which is ridiculous if you think about it clearly and to calm your fluttering nerves. This is for his beloved bride, why shouldn’t he participate in this attempt to rescue her? But still, this nagging feeling that Rafayel is hurt by your action a few hours ago doesn’t let you rest. Oh, how you wish he would be here so you can talk to him and explain why you acted like this.

You enter a giant room. Apparently, an abandoned bar as you conclude from the counter built of wood that had darkened over the years and numerous stools that are lined along and the empty shelves of glass and blind mirrors behind. The room itself is tidy and dominated by a big table from the same wood as the bar furniture. Luke and Kieran were standing around it and had been busy preparing what appeared to be a map and some glasses to prevent it from rolling into itself.

“Boss!” They greet Sylus in unison and cause Xavier and Zayne to shoot him some meaningful gazes.

“Who are you?” The hunter stops in front of the tall Leader of Onychinus. His hands wander to his hip as he attempts to draw a sword, but the spot is empty.

Sylus smirks as another voice picks up and answers at his place.

“Not a harmless little merchant in the N109 Zone as he wanted to make us believe.”

You would recognize this timbre everywhere and your body reacts immediately. Your heart starts beating excitedly in your chest, your breath hitched for a second and your palms are getting sweaty. Rafayel’s indifferent voice wavers from the shadows that linger in the corners of the former nightlife location.

He glides out of the darkness behind you without causing a sound, smooth like a black panther, and walks in measured steps toward Sylus. You blink surprised by his appearance because he’s wearing an all-too-familiar garment. Dark and velvet-colored leather envelopes the slender body, adorned with a hood that is drawn deep into his face, leaving only his two-toned eyes glimmering in the hazy twilight of the room. The rest of his handsome features are hidden by a black mask and a broad belt covers his middle.

“Let’s get this over with, yeah?” he sighs as he pulls out his dagger to flip it nonchalantly between his hands which are protected by black leather gloves.

You gulp. Never had you dreamed about meeting the Abysswalker Version of your favorite Love interest. But it seems this world is full of surprises for you.

Rafayels gaze flickers to you like he senses your rapid heartbeat and excitement, his eyes unreadable and somehow distant, before it settles to the white-haired man at his side. “So, what’s the plan?”

Half an hour later the group has decided to approach Ever’s building separately where Sylus claims MC is being captured. It’s only a few blocks from your position and it’s huge. Built in the center of the N109 Zone and spreads about the location into three wings plus the main entrance. The powerful evolver and former dragon will burst in at the front gate, focussing all eyes on him as the others sneak in on various points of the building, covering and searching through a wing on each of their own. He couldn’t find out the exact position of your twin so they needed to scour the whole research center.

Where you fit in that picture, you don’t know. But one thing is for sure. You won’t stay behind! Maybe you can’t fight as well as the others but Sylus hasn’t given you this nice and badass armor that you stay in safety like a helpless maiden. And you have that Evol! You're having trouble using it precisely, but that won’t hold you back.

And you know who you want to go with as the men get ready to leave this place and start their rescue mission. It’s your only choice to clean up the unspoken issues between the two of you since Rafayel barely sends a glance your way through the short briefing of Luke and Kieran and the operation planning afterward. And who knows if you will have the chance after this?

With this in mind, you sneak out of the door into the darkness of the surrounding N109 Zone and follow Rafayel since they all have left you behind with pleas and demands to wait for their return. You hope that the others will come back safely and not get injured, but your mind is conquered by one determination: You need to talk with the Lemurian and know if you’re on good terms or not.

Mentioning List: @blaire-apricity - @homurasturtle - @apric-t - @yashiro-arisugawa - @ladyparamount - @nadinefromwhere - @sato-baka - @ghoulishnero - @cinnamonrizz - @crystalfay - @dribbles4life - @m00nchildwrites - @yandere-kouhai - @star-likes-fictional-people - @mafuyusingtome - @kclremin

Story tags: @fancyhawk45 - @shypotatoes013-blog - @hiqhkey - @pirana10 - @deputy-videogamer - @lady-katelyn - @lookingforlia - @tobypass - @satansdaughter123 - @sh4nn - @celestialzdiviner - @yourfriendlypyrovampire - @xxfaithlynxx - @myheartfollower - @coffeewhyskers - @pandabooster - @shadowypeachsweets - @sunsethw4 - @goddessnyx216 - @animecrazy76 - @gojosballsack69 - @beomluvrr - @je11yfishwriter - @lunacielooo - @kiri-tuk - @tinnyrabbit - @curiositykilledthecatx3 - @lexlibrary -@greeenbeean - @librarydame - @beewilko - @ellieevu - @lobstersarecool - @snowfall-jess

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lookingforlia · 3 months ago

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Caleb has an apple as his Symbol and he’s a cyborg.

Does that make him an apple computer??

Found this on twt and I laughed so hard 😂😂

Sorry Caleb 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Link

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lookingforlia · 4 months ago

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Childhood trio Pt. Zayne and MC's study session (with Caleb)

Zayne holds up a card

MC: Helium!

Zayne: Yes!

MC holds up a card

Zayne: Taylor Swift.

MC: Yes.

Zayne holds up a card

MC: Pi!

Zayne: Yes.

MC holds up a card

Zayne: ...Kardashian!

MC, shakes her head: More specific.

Zayne, thinking: ...Chloe?

MC: YES!!

Zayne: See I remember if it looks like Kim it's Kim. If it kinda looks like Kim it's Courtney, if it looks nothing like Kim it's Chloe!

Zayne holds up a card

MC: Ah, that's a Venn Diagram! See, I remember because I remember thinking Venn is he gonna stop talking about this diagram.

Caleb, walking in: What's... going on here?

Zayne: Oh we decided to use our breakfast time to expand on our respective knowledge bases.

Caleb: Oh, I wanna try!

Zayne and MC hold up a card

Caleb: Atom of hydrogen, Adam of Maroon 5. Mic drop.

Caleb walks away smugly

Zayne: I'm sorry, who is Mike Drop?

MC laughs.

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lookingforlia · 4 months ago

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Asking the real questions rn

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lookingforlia · 1 year ago

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Maybe Meant to be - Fake Dating pt.5

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

Authors note;

sorry it took me so long to update,I’m going to be more active from now on🩷Also I have a request that I’m working on that I just saw,thank you sm to @luvizuku for requesting 😙Also the next chapters are gonna be out soon and they are going to be juicyyy so make sure you check those out once they’re uploaded 🤫🤫🤫

tag list 🏷️: @jasmixs @cybertimetravel @tenmaabnesti @luleck @lovra974 @just-your-emo-sensei @lookingforlia @cinnamonroll4ever @liaaa-1 @just-some-random-simp-lol @chrissyfishywissy @aizawasgirl @jonggunismysneakylink @liaaa-1 @velvet-spider @4evahevah @chixkadee @haleyms @katsuberries @laurenzitaa @chaoticstrawberryland

(I can’t tag some people idk why 😭)

——————————————————————————

As you walked out your dorm room with Bakugo leaving everyone else behind your heart was beating so fast you were sure Bakugo could hear it.Did he actually like you and was jealous?You wanted him to be so badly.

His back was facing you and you had gotten quite far from your dorm,so you decided to ask what has been on your mind since the minute you two left.

-So what is it?

Bakugo turned around and looked at you as if you were crazy.

-Whaddya mean what is it?!You were going to kiss if it wasn’t for me.It would be disgusting to watch and in front of everyone too.Can’t even imagine how humiliating it would be for you.And to kiss that Deku,you would have to be insane!

-Wait,w-what?

-What don’t you understand?I saved your ass because you are my friend.

So this was it.He was not jealous of you,he didn’t like you,it was just about how much he hated Midoriya all over again.He wasn’t jealous of you at all.Your mind wandered to the pictures posted by Uraraka last night.You remembered how Bakugo usually doesn’t let people post him.Uraraka meant something to him.Even if Uraraka had a crush on Midoriya it wouldn’t change how Bakugo felt about her.You were speechless.You can’t believe you got excited for this.You were just staring at him with wide eyes and saying nothing.You felt your eyes started to tear up so you turned your back to Bakugo.

-What?

-You are just…unbelievable.

-Huh?!How am I unbelievable,you are the one dating Deku!

You turned back around and saw he was fuming,yelling at you.

-Yes so what?He’s a great guy and I love him.I’m so glad I am dating him and not someone else!

He was startled as you said this,the sadness you felt wasn’t visible on your face,you were cold and done with his shit.You felt so heartbroken and you didn’t want to see him anymore.

You started walking away leaving without saying a word.Surprisingly,Bakugo didn’t say a word or run after you.You turned around to look at him even though you knew you shouldn’t and he had his back turned around power walking (😭) the opposite direction.

He didn’t even come after me.

You were about to cry and you felt you needed some air so you went outside.You walked for a little bit thinking about everything that happened in the span of two days.As you were walking you decided to sit on the cornering of the building.You were sitting your legs curled up,arms on your knees as you heard footsteps.You looked up hoping to see Bakugo and-

-Hey,are you okay?

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lookingforlia · 2 years ago

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This page is not politics free, but what I am about to talk about is not political. It is humanitarian.

I think everyone NEEDS to be educated on what is going in in Palestine now, as an active genocide of our time. Right here is a good link for information on the Palestinian plight, please feel free to peruse it.

Please, please consider donating to Palestine Red Crescent Society (a part of the Red Cross, which I'm sure you've all heard of), The Palestine Children's Relief Fund (to aid suffering children), and/or ANERA (the American Near East Refugee Aid, for humanitarian relief to refugees).

Given the blackout and subsequent indiscriminate bombings in Gaza today, everyone needs to spread information like this. There's a media blackout right now in the area (a deliberate cut off), and Palestinians are completely unable to communicate with the outside world.

If you're from the United States (or EU, I'm not entirely sure how representatives work over there) call your representatives as these two places are among the largest conglomerates of pro-Israel, pro-settler state allies. Voice your support for peace. Boycott until the Israeli occupation is no longer profitable.

The only way out is an end to the Apartheid state and occupation of Palestinian people. But in the meantime, do what you can to help the civilians currently suffering and spread awareness (that being said, awareness is not enough. Awareness alone will not help material conditions. Do what you can to protest, boycott, donate, and combat propaganda, to the best of your ability).

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lookingforlia · 2 years ago

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friends to lovers never had a bad track. “scared i’ll ruin what we have” SLAPS. “friendship cuddles while secretly dying inside” BANGER. “teasing each other and holding eye contact for a little too long” KILLS ME. and don’t even get me STARTED on “screaming i love you in the middle of a heated argument.”

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lookingforlia · 2 years ago

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bully tsukishima is just so awful to you, he pulls your hair and pinches your cheeks so hard that you think they might bruise. he feels no remorse for his actions, when he sees your lip wobble as you're trying not to cry he knows he's won. he loves when he pinches you so hard that you squeal in pain, he can never decide what's better feeling your pudgy flesh between his fingers or hearing you squeal, it makes him hungry for more of you, for more of the sounds you make and what sounds you'd make if he bit into your shoulder and sunk his fingers in your cunt. every time you would cry and try to run away but he would seek you out. it would only get worse when he had you completely cornered, when you both were completely alone together.

he saw you walking in the corridor and had to follow you into the bathroom, you were none the wiser. he wanted to see the fear in your eyes, needed it. it resulted in him shutting you both in together, chucking something against the door making it harder to enter, it was still possible though with enough force. that's exactly what you were thinking when you heard the door slam shut and whipping your head around you saw him standing there with a smirk. your only hope was that someone would notice, that someone would come in and see, someone would push hard enough against the door.

backing up against the wall, trying to gain as much distance from him as possible, you try to speak clearing and confident but even you can tell that you sound completely the opposite, your voice quivering, quiet and shaky, "what do you want tsukishima?" he doesn't answer you but laughs in your face, walking closer to you and making you feel trapped. he still doesn't answer you and you're too scared to speak, hoping that he'll leave you alone. he doesn't. he stands so close to you that you can feel his breathing and you know that he'll be able to hear your racing heartbeat.

he pushes his hands against the wall around you, encasing you so you're trapped under his scrutiny. the whole time he's moved closer to you you've kept your head down, hoping he'll leave you alone if he doesn't get a reaction out of you. that changes when he slams his hands down making you jolt at the noise and look up at him, and the look on your face is something tsukishima will never forget, with your arms trembling, eyes red and watery, tiny sniffles coming from you. god it's making him so hard.

before you even know whats happening he's kissing you. he bites your lip and in shock you let out a gasp giving him the time he planned to shove his tongue down your throat. still in shock, you're unable to move and get away from his grasp, you're not responding to his kiss but he knew you wouldn't. moving his arms from their current position he grabs hold of your love handles and kneeds them. he moves one of his hands and snakes it under your skirt and onto your thigh, making you shiver in the process, causing him to kiss you even harder, still not stopping and coming apart to breathe.

everything seems like it's happening all at once to you but also like it's in slow motion, it's very confusing. he reaches up under your skirt, feeling your plush thighs and mentally groans at how fucking good you feel. you finally have a reaction and try to push him away after he slaps your thigh, causing you to whimper and your thigh to sting. you try to wriggle out of his grasp making him snicker at you. he knows his own strength after years of volleyball he knows that if he actually hit you as hard as he could he could seriously hurt you and he doesn't want to cause you a lot pain, that doesn't stop him from spanking pretty hard though. he's wanted to do that for so long, to slap your soft skin. hearing the noise and seeing the ripples, it's even better than he imagined and he imagined it a lot.

finally he speaks, "be good for me, princess. if you're good, i'll be nice. if you cry again i'll be super nice. do you think you can handle that? i'll make you feel really good if you be good." he's so condescending, you hear that loud and clear but it's hard to focus on that as straight after he's said that he makes his way further up your thigh, reaching your pussy and grazing his fingers over your underwear, you're so wet that he can feel it and he's getting more annoyed at the fact he didn't do this sooner.

"fuck, maybe i shouldn't be nice to you, maybe i should be extra mean, i think that's what you really want? can you handle that too?" he smirks, holding onto you tighter and applying more pressure to his fingers, touching you with more purpose than before. you shake your head, you don't want him to be mean, you want to leave. you're trying to ignore how good he feels against your skin, how he's touching you in all the right places, how he'd be so pretty if he didn't talk as much, how his slender fingers are wrapped around your body and his glasses askew, they frame his face really well. you've always hated how hot he was and now how he kissed you like no one else ever had before, you liked it. "no?" he stops all movement, still caging you in but stilling his body, still smirking. he's waiting for your next move.

"no." you try to say loud without quivering like last time but you can't.

he smiles, almost sinister like and you can't help but wonder what's going on his head. he withdraws his fingers from his original position and stops leaning against the wall, giving you room to breathe. you're holding your breath, confused and on edge, waiting.

he goes to pick up his bag and turns around to leave, in the mirror he sees you still standing there, not having moved. "what you doing princess?" you stare blankly. he comes closer to you again, making you confused, this time all you can do is blink up at him, wondering what his game is. "you said no. come back to me when you know it's a yes. see you around, crybaby." he leans downs and softly kisses your cheek, he's never touched you so delicately before. he turns back around and leaves, leaving you there on your own, staring off into space, still feeling his touch all over you.

you just know that tomorrow tsukishima's going to get to class just after you so he can sit down behind you before anyone else gets the chance to, and then he'll spend the day tormenting you.

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