#( also still rocking the same haircut he's a real one for that )

[etcnnante]

an absolutely insane time of night to be upset about polnareff and his fate. why did araki do him like that

[chrisevansleftpeck]

Winter Stubble

Word Count: 816

Content Warnings: Kissing, cheeky comments ;)

(only good ones of him with more facial hair were him in prison being a sad boi so lets all pretend this gif is accurate for my sake)

You pressed your ear against Spencer’s chest, relaxing into him further. You and Spence were snuggled up together on his couch, the large, cotton, flannel-pattern blanket you bought him for Christmas draped across the both of you. It matched his apartment well and incorporated the same shade of brown as one of his leather lounging chairs. 

“This is good. Really, really nice.” Spencer threw his head back against the arm of his couch, wrapping you in his toned arms. You could tell he was still exhausted, beaten down from the case he had to work almost immediately after Christmas. 

You snuck a peek in, looking up at him from his chest. You watched his eyes fight to try to stay awake and the fluffy, sleepy mess his hair was in. He looked back at you, causing you to giggle and bury your face back into his chest.

“Hi.” He said, a big smile on his face. He scooted further down the couch so his head wasn’t thrown back and hanging off anymore. Spencer was quick to wrap his arms back around you again and placed a kiss on your head. 

You finally looked up at him again, giving in to the urge to give him a real kiss. Your arms came up from around his waist where you’d been hugging, up to his face. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him into you. 

“Ooh.” You sounded short and quick, confused. 

Spencer kissed you again, “Something wrong?” He asked as you signaled for him to sit straight up so you could sit in his lap. You wrapped your legs around him and held his face again. 

You thumbed over Spencer’s new stubble, grown in over break. He usually had stubble over his face and mustache area, but this was darker and fuller than usual. “Prickly.” You giggled. Spencer shook his head in your hands to release himself. You threw an inescapable hug at him, rocking in his lap. “You need a haircut.” You poked at him, also noticing his hair.

“I know, it requires a lot more shampoo now.” Spencer laughed, running his fingers through his messy hair. 

You continued running your fingers across his beard, “Now you get my struggle. Soft hair is expensive.” He grabbed a piece of your hair and twirled it around your finger as you spoke. 

“Want me to shave it, the beard? I can have a baby face again for a few days.” He offered, knowing he wanted to kiss you more than anything, but didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you. 

“Hmm,” You thought, studying his face again. “Kiss me some more, then I’ll decide how I like it.” You whispered, practically into his lips. 

 “Yes, ma’am.” You kissed him slowly and deeply, humming into him against the feeling of his facial hair tickling your chin and lips. You felt him shift beneath you, trying to hide the growing feeling in his pants. You were practically on top of it, making it very difficult for you, too, to ignore. “I like this a shit ton, personally.” 

You couldn’t help but pull away and laugh. You could always tell when Spencer was really into something because he’d make a very unfiltered, un-Spencer-like comment. However, your pulling away didn’t stop him. He simply switched to place his lips on your neck. 

He hovered over your neck for a moment, “You’re going to laugh a lot in a second aren’t you?” Spencer looked up at you and asked with a smile on his face.

You nodded, “It’s gonna tickle so badly, oh my god. Get it over with, do it.” You joked, closing your eyes tightly and wrinkling your nose. 

“Okay.” Spencer warned you once more before going in. He placed a slow, sweet kiss on your neck. Your face softened at it in a way you didn’t expect. It almost felt good. No, it did feel good. Ticklish, of course, but it was the side of your neck so it was easy to get past the feeling. 

The continuation of rougher kisses against your neck left your lips parting unintentionally. You didn’t even realize it until Spencer stopped, running his thumb over the mark he left on your neck. “Sorry, the surrounding skin is a little more red than usual.”

“Oh, um, yeah.” You said playing with your hair, smiling at Spencer. 

Spencer studied your face for a minute. “You liked it.” He called you out, reading your smile easily. 

You attempted to hide your face in your hands, but Spencer was able to peel them away. “Hey Spence,” You whispered to him, now running your hands through his hair again, trying to nonchalantly work him up a little bit more. “I’d like to know how that feels in other places now.” 

“Let’s get to it, then.” Spencer said, pushing you back on the couch with a surge of passionate energy.

[real-s4lmonid]

S4LMONS MUGEN HEADCANON MEGAPOST

maybe i will do more of these

Mano

transgender male, pansexual, hungarian / he wears tall boots and sometimes heels because he’s self conscious about his height / generally a bitch to people, but if you somehow manage to be his friend or get close to him he’s actually a sweet guy / surprisingly good at making machines despite a lack of education. was too busy getting horribly traumatized to learn / love language is giving gifts / he likes painting a lot, he made the painting portal things in the lobby! / autistic little man :> he has hyperfixes on rats and weaponry (specifically guns)  / was technically born human but soon after some weird ass genetic mutation turned him into a demon rock thing / his hair is very messy he doesn’t really bother to brush it / loves attention good or bad / surprisingly strong for his size / loves his tall genderful partner

Cyclops

bigender, gay, french / chubby. he’s a chef what do you expect /shes the best cook in mugen no competition, one of few who wouldn’t explode the kitchen trying to make microwave ramen noodle / was also born on earth, and also turned into an angel rock person / was actually able to get educated because she wasn’t busy getting traumatized.  / pretty boy / has big blue eye. not the staring into your soul type / him and mano aren’t enemies mano just likes fucking around and annoying cy and cy deals with it.  / sweetest ever <3 / big fluffy afro type hair / cy x omen ……………… / love language is gifts (gifts in the form of yumy food)

Omen

bi and in denial, he/him / gay and homophobic at the same time / a hater / despite the fact that he is fucking married to cy he’s still in denial that he’s bi / i dont have much about this guy idk. he’s just kind of an asshole / love language is words / fucking emo ass haircut

Smug Sun

genderfluid, any/all, bi / #1 haver of gender / loves their short bf / wavy hair / very tall. / siblings are soulsun and sorbsun / very sweet person / them and their siblings just randomly popped into existence in mugen / buff boygirl real / very smart, one of their favorite pastimes is reading / love language is words

Jesu

he/they, gay, disabled / was born in heaven, has been an angel their whole life / a guardian who protects people / never had working legs, was in a wheelchair their whole life, doesnt really mind it / married to diego / father of many. (i hc most of the player characters being young, and jesu is an adoptive father figure to most of them) / him and jakel are enemies

Diego

he/him, gay, mexican / one of the only actual humans in mugen / chubby / first language is spanish / #1 father figure / somehow managed to make friends with jakel (and the rest of the enemies) / most friendly guy ever / very good at playing guitar, he just likes to get a bit silly sometimes and play the most fucked up insane music / biological father of samurai and kidney stone. kidney stone had some fucked up stuff happen so theyre no longer human, but samurai is a human / has a great singing voice / *points to airport* this is where i watched my parents die

Jäkel

they/them, aroace, swedish / used to be a devil-human thing / died of lung cancer / a spirit / they still smoke despite the fact that smoking fucking killed them / manos adoptive father. met in ✨lore✨ / a hater / water hurts them a lot, especially holy water (cuz of the whole demon thing) / they have a scar on like half their face cuz of water / asshole. worst guy youll ever meet. would kill has killed will kill again. / they have a soft spot for their pet spiders and roses, they have a whole ass garden of various roses, mostly red ones/ was born in sweden / they didnt like their parents and their parents didn’t like them so they killed their parents /yes they went right to hell. and apparently they were enough of a terrible person that they are now satans right hand man

[tardytothesimspardy]

Four Birthdays?!

In Which There Are Many Birthdays Held

Soon after Flo got pregnant, it was Flat and Ruby's birthdays. I'll admit, it was a bit hard to see Flat age up into an elder, and harder still to,, ugh,, cut his hair ;-;

This isn't even his new haircut, this is just the party outfit from the whole 1940s/1950s thing I did.

I only did it because he has short hair in The Sims 3, but it probably was a needed change, since he's literally had the same hairstyle since he was a teenager. (Honestly though Flo is no different)

With Flat's elderhood newly begun, he now gravitates toward the rocking chair fiercely, and can no longer go for a simple jog with almost dying, despite having maxed out the athletic skill a while ago, and have gone on daily morning jogs for quite some time now, but whatever it's fine I'm not bothered by it in the least.

Ruby has taken it upon herself to spend her young adulthood to the fullest, and frequently conventions in San Myshuno regularly. She doesn't live there, and isn't sure if she particularly wants to, but it sure is fun seeing all the things there is to see.

One thing in particular that was fun to see was not in San Myshuno, however. Ruby was in Brindleton Bay to visit her uncle, when she browsed the museum and came across a cat, something she doesn't really see in Newcrest.

She adopted Pumpkin with only the hastiness that a newly-young adult Sim could. (To be fair, Pumpkin became fond of Ruby very quickly, and I—I mean she couldn't resist)

Back home, I am learning in real time how infants work, and it's not terrible. They seem oddly large, but some infants are like that. In any case, Flat and Flo love their son desperately, and cannot get enough of him.

(that's not how potty training works, even if skip was old enough to start learning, but okay)

Buck eventually came over for a visit, to meet his nephew, which leads me to three pictures that honestly make me a little emotional.

Like I'm not tearing up or anything, but I feel like that,, flutteriness? in my chest. Like if a few things were already going on, and then I saw these pictures, I might start crying. That kind of emotional.

About a week after Skip aged up to an infant, it was Flo's birthday, and I once again had to confront my weird conflicting emotions about a Sim that I have played for months becoming an elder, but at least she had a nice party.

(Unrelated but also included: the perils of owning a cat, and also the fantastic perks of owning a cat)

And before you ask, the bassinet in Ruby's house doesn't mean she is going to have a baby herself. For some reason in The Sims 3, Ruby's trailer has a crib, despite her not being pregnant, or even having a romantic relationship indicating that she might soon become pregnant. Idk. It's weird.

First Post | Previous Post | Next Post

[greysturtle]

Type o negative anesthesia

"Peter changed some of the lyrics of 'Summer Breeze' because he felt he needed to add some humor and Type O references," explains Monte Conner, former VP of A&R at Roadrunner and current President of Nuclear Blast. "See her smile lead me to the bedroom/Fire burning and there's wine for two/Feel your legs spreading out to take me/Just can't wait to get inside of you" went Type O's version, which they dubbed "Summer Girl." Steele loved Sixties and Seventies pop songs, including Seal and Crofts' soft-rock hit "Summer Breeze." He brought it into rehearsal one day, and while popping pills, the band jammed on the tune and the singer played around with the lyrics, reworking them in a typically salacious new direction. Type O Negative originally recorded their cover of "Summer Breeze" with rewritten lyrics and a new title, " Summer Girl," but were barred from releasing it by the songwriters She used to sit on my chest while I was doing bench presses."ĥ. "I have a huge problem with abandonment and loss, so I took it very seriously. "No one wants to hear a guy who's six-foot-eight with long black hair and fangs crying about his fuckin' cat, so I had to make it extremely metaphorical," the singer-bassist said of the song. Named Venus, the feline had been Steele's beloved pet for 17 or 18 years before she passed away, whereupon he buried her in his backyard. In true, irreverent Type O form, Bloody Kisses' majestic, mournful title track was about a cat. "Bloody Kisses (A Death in the Family)" is about Pete Steele's cat Video of Type O Negative - Bloody Kisses (Live at Stockholm 1994)Ĥ. So, I guess you could say I have a bit of a priest infection." She would ask me to dress up as a priest and, well, I guess you can just imagine what would happen after that. "But she would get off on breaking the rules a little bit. "She was a Roman Catholic, much as I am," Steele recalled of the Christian woman who inspired the song. Musically, it owed its infectious hooks to Eighties New Wave - "I always like to refer to Type O Negative as 'Flock of Assholes,'" Steele joked, "but we have somewhat better haircuts" - but its lyrics had anything but a radio-friendly origin. 1," "Christian Woman" - Bloody Kisses' first proper song - was one of the album's breakthrough hits, played nationwide on rock radio in a four-and-a-half-minute edited version. The real-life "Christian Woman" would ask Pete Steele to dress as a priest before he "incorporated" with herĪlong with "Black No. 'Nothing but love songs' - that's been our slogan forever. "Obviously Peter has had some troubled ones. "Type O has obviously spent a lot of time, regardless of what album it is, mourning relationships," he added. "And I mean that in every possible sense of the word." Type O set the dark, sexual tone for Bloody Kisses with an unnerving ambient introductory first track complete with the sounds of a woman in the throes of orgasm, titled "Machine Screw." "But I didn't actually screw her she screwed me," Silver recalled to Bennett of the woman, an ex of his, whose moans are heard. The girl moaning on "Machine Screw" was Josh Silver's ex-girlfriend I guess being sarcastic has its rewards."Ģ. "But the people who get the sarcasm also like it. "The brilliant part is that goth kids still take it totally seriously," Type O keyboardist Josh Silver enthused over the song's enduring popularity. 1" became a massive hit with many of those same goths. Of course, the ultimate irony of the song is that even though its lyrics lampoon the pretentious, narcissistic attitude of many goths, "Black No. I actually lost the original lyrics to that song, so I had to rewrite them." She was the ultimate goth girl, and I was poking fun at her because she was in love with herself. "And it's about the girl I fucking slashed my wrists over. Bennett in 2008, for the liner notes of the "Top Shelf Edition" reissue of Bloody Kisses. I'm not kidding you," Steele told Revolver contributor J. "I was waiting in line for three hours to dump 40 cubic yards of human waste at the Hamilton Avenue Marine Transfer Station, and I wrote the song in my head. The fact that Pete Steele was employed by the NYC Parks Department before making it big is a well-known piece of heavy-metal lore that he wrote his most popular song while doing particularly dirty work at that day job is less celebrated.

[deltagreys]

Type o negative anesthesia

"Peter changed some of the lyrics of 'Summer Breeze' because he felt he needed to add some humor and Type O references," explains Monte Conner, former VP of A&R at Roadrunner and current President of Nuclear Blast. "See her smile lead me to the bedroom/Fire burning and there's wine for two/Feel your legs spreading out to take me/Just can't wait to get inside of you" went Type O's version, which they dubbed "Summer Girl." Steele loved Sixties and Seventies pop songs, including Seal and Crofts' soft-rock hit "Summer Breeze." He brought it into rehearsal one day, and while popping pills, the band jammed on the tune and the singer played around with the lyrics, reworking them in a typically salacious new direction. Type O Negative originally recorded their cover of "Summer Breeze" with rewritten lyrics and a new title, " Summer Girl," but were barred from releasing it by the songwriters She used to sit on my chest while I was doing bench presses."ĥ. "I have a huge problem with abandonment and loss, so I took it very seriously. "No one wants to hear a guy who's six-foot-eight with long black hair and fangs crying about his fuckin' cat, so I had to make it extremely metaphorical," the singer-bassist said of the song. Named Venus, the feline had been Steele's beloved pet for 17 or 18 years before she passed away, whereupon he buried her in his backyard. In true, irreverent Type O form, Bloody Kisses' majestic, mournful title track was about a cat. "Bloody Kisses (A Death in the Family)" is about Pete Steele's cat Video of Type O Negative - Bloody Kisses (Live at Stockholm 1994)Ĥ. So, I guess you could say I have a bit of a priest infection." She would ask me to dress up as a priest and, well, I guess you can just imagine what would happen after that. "But she would get off on breaking the rules a little bit. "She was a Roman Catholic, much as I am," Steele recalled of the Christian woman who inspired the song. Musically, it owed its infectious hooks to Eighties New Wave - "I always like to refer to Type O Negative as 'Flock of Assholes,'" Steele joked, "but we have somewhat better haircuts" - but its lyrics had anything but a radio-friendly origin. 1," "Christian Woman" - Bloody Kisses' first proper song - was one of the album's breakthrough hits, played nationwide on rock radio in a four-and-a-half-minute edited version. The real-life "Christian Woman" would ask Pete Steele to dress as a priest before he "incorporated" with herĪlong with "Black No. 'Nothing but love songs' - that's been our slogan forever. "Obviously Peter has had some troubled ones. "Type O has obviously spent a lot of time, regardless of what album it is, mourning relationships," he added. "And I mean that in every possible sense of the word." Type O set the dark, sexual tone for Bloody Kisses with an unnerving ambient introductory first track complete with the sounds of a woman in the throes of orgasm, titled "Machine Screw." "But I didn't actually screw her she screwed me," Silver recalled to Bennett of the woman, an ex of his, whose moans are heard. The girl moaning on "Machine Screw" was Josh Silver's ex-girlfriend I guess being sarcastic has its rewards."Ģ. "But the people who get the sarcasm also like it. "The brilliant part is that goth kids still take it totally seriously," Type O keyboardist Josh Silver enthused over the song's enduring popularity. 1" became a massive hit with many of those same goths. Of course, the ultimate irony of the song is that even though its lyrics lampoon the pretentious, narcissistic attitude of many goths, "Black No. I actually lost the original lyrics to that song, so I had to rewrite them." She was the ultimate goth girl, and I was poking fun at her because she was in love with herself. "And it's about the girl I fucking slashed my wrists over. Bennett in 2008, for the liner notes of the "Top Shelf Edition" reissue of Bloody Kisses. I'm not kidding you," Steele told Revolver contributor J. "I was waiting in line for three hours to dump 40 cubic yards of human waste at the Hamilton Avenue Marine Transfer Station, and I wrote the song in my head. The fact that Pete Steele was employed by the NYC Parks Department before making it big is a well-known piece of heavy-metal lore that he wrote his most popular song while doing particularly dirty work at that day job is less celebrated.

[damonjuicyscock]

The New singer-Chapter 1

Pairing: Dilf! Damon Albarn X Reader

Warnings: Language, maybe a few spelling mistakes (but as always, I hope not)

Words: 3094

A/N: Hello ! Here I am with this new fanfic with Dilf Damon ! Hope you'll like it. Smut will come sooner in this fan fic (On the fourth one). Enjoy !

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I moved in London in 2012 when I was 18 to try to finally start a career in what has always been my passion: Music. I think I probably started singing when I was still in my father’s balls, because as far as I know, even my close friends always knew me singing. I was even singing so much that sometimes, people had to tell me to shut up. My parents were born in the 60’s and 70’s, respectively from hippie parents, and themselves became hippies. That’s why I was raised listening to some Jefferson airplane, The Doors, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix… But also with music like Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, Tears For Fears, Oasis, Blur, Radiohead, Nirvana… Anyway, I was raised listening to some good stuff

Before telling how it all began, let’s talk about my absolutely not normal parents, who created who I am today. When they met in 1991, my mum was in total New Wave emo mode. Ya know, like Robert Smith from The Cure? Well, nearly the same haircut, with some new romantic clothes like in the early 80’s. My dad was kinda punk and tried to look like some 1986 Dave Gahan. Them and their music taste met, and boom, 2 years later, here I was. 5 years later, my sister joined us. A real troublemaker, but a very good dancer, that’s what she is. When I was 6, they enrolled me in a music conservatory. It was a pain in the ass. But I learned a lot, even how not to sound like a nowadays Mariah Carey who has a lot of voice issues when singing. Why? Because my singing teacher made me sing some opera, so I sound more like an Amy Lee from Evanescence who can sing everything except some hardcore metal. At 15, I said bye bye to the conservatory to focus on my studies without having to care about anything else. I kept practicing every day, alone. But I also started to learn to play guitar on my own after discovering a fabulous Muse song called “Knights Of Cydonia”. I loved rock and had the fashion style that came with it. I wasn’t a girl coming from the city, I grew up in a small town where not a lot of people knew about some singer or band… London was the cradle of New Wave, Glam rock, also some punks if you forget a minute about the US and Germany. London had great artists; it was worth trying my luck in here. And only after 2 years of hardworking and trying my luck in pubs and other, with my mic, my acoustic guitar and my electric guitar, I signed with Universal. Oh, I was going to forget about the most important part. I said previously that I was raised listening to some good stuff like Blur. Well, I’m a big fan, but also a Gorillaz fan and a Damon Albarn fan. This man is talented, has a really beautiful voice, he’s a model to me. I can’t deny the fact that yeah, he was and is still a lot attractive. And that’s in 2016 that I knew how much, when he tried to get in touch with me.

Late 2016:

My phone rang. It was my best friend and also manager Thomas.

-Oi Tom!

-Oi Y/N, are you available right now?

- Well, you woke me up, but yes, why?

- I have something really important to tell ya. Can you meet me at the Starbucks coffee near Carnaby Street please?

- Well now that I’m awake yeah, when?

- Well let’s count you and me taking the underground… let’s say an hour?

-It’s okay with me, see ya!

I hang up and went to put some clothes and makeup on, tying my hair in a simple braid before picking my sunglasses, my bag, and locking my front door before going.

But once outside, I saw someone taking a picture. Another fucking pap, trying to have his pictures of the day. I was acting funny with them at the beginning, making pouts to troll their pictures, but after nearly two years of them tracking me, I was starting to be fed up. So, at this very moment, I decided I couldn’t control my middle finger anymore, and imitated Chris Pratt in the Guardians of the galaxy, before putting a big smile on my face. Yeah, okay. I was still trolling them in a way.

I entered the underground station, going to the Oxford Circus station. From here, I walked to the Starbucks coffee in Great Marlborough Street. Tom wasn’t here yet. So to recap, this idiot calls me because he has something urgent to tell me, and doesn’t bother to be on time. I was even afraid I was the one to be late!

For your information, He arrived 43 minutes after.

-Oi lovely, sorry for being late. He said out of breath

-Oi sir let’s-meet-in-an-hour, traffic jam? Oh no, sorry, you took the train, What the fuck were you doing?

-Masturbating. He answered sarcastically

-Verry funny Tom. Well, I’m used to you being late anyway, you are even capable to be late for your own birthday party you dumb fuck.

-It was 13 years ago Y/N. I am an important man since I’m your manager.

-And it goes to your head. Isn’t it supposed for the artist to be the one who becomes big-headed?

-S’not like I’ve never been before…

-maybe, but it’s getting worse. I interrupted him

-ANYWAY!

-What’s so urgent then?

-There’s… some singer who contacted me because he’s interested on your music, and he would be glad to collaborate with you on a song. He would like for you to sing the backing vocals on it.

- Oh cool! Who is it?

-Damon Albarn.

I spat my tea back in the paper cup and coughed.

-WHAT?

-Yup, I knew you would react like this.

- Damon Fucking Albarn wants me to do the vocals on one of his songs?

-Actually, I don’t have a lot of details ‘bout that, he just called and left me his number.

- He called himself? Not his manager?

-No, Damon Albarn himself.

- Then I guess I have to do the same and call him back by myself like a grown-up girl.

-You sure?

- I have to.

-As you wish, But as I know you by heart, I know you’ll get really nervous.

He was definitely right, but it was like pouring oil on the flames, so my only reaction was to slap him on the shoulder.

-Shut up Tom!

He laughed

- I also knew you would do that. I’m leaving you his number then?

- Of course you do! I answered

- Okay. Oh also, before I forget, Glastonbury, Reading, Lollapalooza and Coachella wants you.

- What are the dates?

he took out his little notebook from his pocket

-Glastonbury from June 21st to the 26th, Reading August 25th to 27th, Lollapalooza July 22nd and 23rd, Coachella April 14thto 23rd.

- Say yes to all of them and negotiate with Coachella. They have to give me a date that is before April 20th.

-Why?

- I’m taking my dear mama on a trip to celebrate her birthday in Mauritius. Thought I already told ya.

-You did, I just forgot to take a note.

He handed me a little piece of paper

-Here’s Kellogg’s all-bran’s number

-Hey, respect him!

He laughed again

We finished drinking our tea, talking about the coming gigs, our lives, and also about me writing my new album.

*

Tom had been right. I was on a verge of a panic attack before calling him. This man was all I admired, he was one of my favourite artists and definitely my idol. He had accomplished a lot in nearly 30 years. And I was so honoured, but didn’t understand why he wanted me, the new singer, to collaborate with him. I would be really lucky to work with him. I decided to light myself a cigarette before pressing the call button.

-Hello? I heard a male voice say dryly

-Hello, is this mister Albarn?

-Huh, yes?

-Hello… I’m…I’m Y/N Y/L/N, you called my manager Thomas. He… He said you wanted to get in touch with me?

His tone changed to a happy one

- Oh hi Y/N! How are you? Yes, I called your manager. Listen, I'd really like to work with you on a song for the upcoming Gorillaz album, you have a lot of talent, and after listening to your songs, I knew you would be perfect for a song.

- It would be a great pleasure to work with you! When do you want us to meet? I asked

- When are you free?

- Tomorrow if it’s okay with you, my remaining gigs are only in two weeks, so I have a bit of time.

- You seem like a hard worker, I like it! I’ll be at the studio at 11 am, can you be there by 11:30?

- I’ll be there!

- Alright. I can’t wait to finally meet you! oh and please, bring your guitar.

- Huh which one? Electric or acoustic one?

- The acoustic one, we have plenty of electric ones at the studio, and you wrote the best songs with it.

- Okay. Huh, could you just give me the address please?

- Of course! I was going to forget about that. I have an old man’s brain. I’ll text it.

- Okay.

- See you tomorrow then Y/N.

- See ya!

He hang up first, and I jumped in joy around my living room, until I heard someone knock at the ceiling. Fuck, I forgot I had neighbours. I decided to call Thomas.

-Did you call him? he said when answering

- I did, we meet tomorrow, I’m just waiting for him to send the address now.

- Well count at least 10 minutes before receiving it, he has a Nokia 3310.

- Stop mocking him mate! I know he doesn’t really like technology and he’s far from being wrong! Apart to work, I don’t have a lot of technological stuff myself.

-Said the one who’s addicted to social medias.

-I’m not addicted! it’s part of my work.

- Never mind, I’m happy you can meet him this quick. Oh I also called Coachella, you’ll be on stage on the 16th at 7pm.

*

The next day, I was on my way to the studio, but I was stopped a few times by fans who wanted to take a picture with me or for an autograph. Happily, I left early to arrive early. When I finally arrived at my destination, I was welcomed by Jamie Hewlett himself.

-Hello young lady. I suppose you are Y/N?

- I am. Mister Hewlett. Nice to meet you, I adore your work.

- Thank you miss. And call me Jamie, you’re my co-worker now. Damon is waiting for you in the other room. We’ll see each other during lunch.

-Alright, thank you co-worker, see you during lunch!

I took a deep breath before entering in the other room and I saw him. Last time I truly saw him was during a live near my place and I was only 5 years old. Yeah, my parents took me to a Blur gig in 1999, and my mum was a lot pregnant with my sister. But even if I was this young, I knew their songs by heart and had one of the best times of my life. Not every parent would do that.

- Hello… I said shyly

- Ah here she finally is! I was impatient to finally meet you Y/N! He said turning to look at me

He came towards me and went to hug me. I was a bit surprised; I didn’t expect that. But it was his way to welcome people. A pure sweetheart. I also had been told he was a simple and humble man.

- I was impatient to meet you too mister Albarn!

- Oi, there’s not mister Albarn with me love, call me Damon.

- Okay Damon. I wouldn’t like for you to think I talk too much but I feel it’s important for me to say that you are one of my favourite artists and inspirations, and that I’ve been dreaming of this collab since…well…forever. I said, with an embarrassed smile

- I’m glad to have such a meaning for you. Oh, you brought the instrument that creates such beautiful songs!

- Yup, here it is

I pulled my guitar out of its case.

- It’s a beautiful Fender you have here. Can I try it? he asked

I handed him the guitar

- Be careful, it’s my baby. I joked

He looked at me and pretended he was about to let the guitar fall on the ground.

- No worries, it’s in safe hands. He answered winking at me

God, he was going to be the death of me.

He started playing one of my songs to test the sound my guitar had, and I blushed.

- Didn’t know you even knew my songs by heart! I chuckled slightly

- - I’m your number one fan! He answered

- Oh… sorry to disappoint you, but my mum actually is.

- I’m the number two then!

- That’s adorable. Okay… should we start working?

- Absolutely young lady! Before we start, would you like a cup of tea? or maybe a coffee?

- No thank you Damon, but it’s really nice of you to ask.

We worked for about an hour and a half on a melody, and when Damon heard me singing the vocals, he decided that finally, I would sing on the whole song. What started as a collab would end up as a duet. It would be a featuring. No sorry, I’d be singing with 2D, but it means the same thing to me.

Lunch came, an occasion to get to know everyone, even if I was the one who had been the most questioned.

- So, Y/N, tell us about you! Jamie said

- Well, what do you want to know?

- Where you grew up, our childhood, your love for music… this kind of stuff. He answered

- Oh! Well, I grew up at first in the south of France where my mum was working as a college teacher, she’s teaching ethology. So, it’s like I was a bit French. I speak the language fluently. We came back in England when I was about 5. On the second part of my childhood, I grew up in a town around Dover, So I was going back to France often. I even studied there in high school; I was in a high school in Calais. I have a French baccalaureate, with a music speciality.

- Interesting! you may have heard of my wife then! She’s a French actress. Jamie said

- Emma De Caunes? Of course, I only saw her in one movie, but the family who was hosting me during my high school years were often watching extracts of a formal TV show her father was in. It was really funny. I even saw the extract when she called him live to tell him she graduated from High school!

- What movie did you watch? Jamie asked

- Mr Bean’s Holiday. In this movie you can even see the city where I grew up in the first part of my childhood.

- Cannes? Damon asked

- Nope, Avignon. It’s sunny and beautiful when you are in the old town. People are really nice in there.

- And so, where does your love and talent for music comes from? Jeff, the guitarist asked

- As far as I can remember, I was three, and three songs made me fall in love with music. There’s Beetlebum by Blur, Stand By me by Oasis and Bittersweet symphony by The Verve. I grew up with parents who loved the new romantics era, New Wave and Britpop. I was singing a lot and my parents decided to send me to a music conservatory to take voice classes. It was their way to tell me “We like you when you sing, but you’re singing too much and you’re giving us a headache”. My singing teacher mainly taught me how to sing opera. But I can thank her today, because she is the one who gave me all the right techniques. After graduating from high school, I came in London to try my luck and here I am today. Also, my parents took me to a lot of gigs.

- Which ones? Damon asked

- My first one was Blur in 1999, then I got to see Tears for Fears, Oasis, Gorillaz, Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order…There is actually a lot!

- Wow, that means you were like 5 when you saw us live with the guys?

- Yup. You sang a particular version of B.L.U.R.E.M.I.

- The danger of drugs. Jamie said

Damon threw him a dark look

- I was so little, but I can still remember I had one of the best times of my life!

- Well, I’m glad you did. Damon answered

- Who are your inspirations Y/N? Jamie asked

- As you can tell, I’m a lot into rock. I’d say many artists from different eras. Probably some David Bowie, Joan Jett, Blondie, The Clash, Oasis, Blur, Nirvana, The cure, The Smiths, U2, INXS… there’s so much. Oh, and also Queen. I’ve always been in love with Freddie Mercury’s voice.

- And you’ve probably been fancying Roger Taylor like every girl. Jamie added

I blushed

- I absolutely don’t know what you’re talking about.

Damon laughed seeing me blushing

- ‘S nothing love, we understand. He said

- I had the privilege to meet Brian May, he is really a nice man.

- And so… yesterday, you told me on the phone you had a few gigs left? Damon asked

- Yes, in Paris and here, in the U.K.

- Does it mean you’ll be back in the studio for some more masterpieces?

- I’ll be back in the studios yes. Don’t know yet if it’s going to be a masterpiece though. I have a few ideas, like a ballad, but here, I have no idea where to start.

- I can help you. Well only if you want to. The singer said

- Really? I said, sparks appearing in my eyes

- Of course! I’d love to! he answered

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part One of Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,528

Notes: Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

 *************************

You inhaled the calming aroma of your tea as you looked out into the familiar back yard while your friend Denise puttered around in the kitchen as she made you a snack.

Her mother, Laura, had recently moved out of the house and you came to visit her for the first time since, wanting to give her and her parents some time to adjust before intruding.

Denise was the same age as you and had recently started her university degree at Trinity College. You, on the other hand, attended a different university in Galway which is where you had moved to six months ago with your parents.

For a long time, you and your parents lived across the road from Denise and her parents. You both attended high school together and had become best friends.

Now, your old house was occupied by a new family with their two adorable little children and, whilst they seemed nice, Denise felt somewhat lonely not having a friend live nearby.

Denise had a brother named Liam who was 23 and still lived at home as well. He was only two years older than you and Denise and had always liked you quite a lot.

You, on the other hand, were never really interested in him and when, one night, he kissed you, you stayed away from Denise’s house for a few weeks to avoid the awkwardness.

‘He’s been working out’ you observed as you watched Liam mow the lawns outside. The buzz of the lawn mower got louder as he finished the front and methodically mowed his way around back.

‘Yes, he has been ever since he knew that you would be staying with us for the long weekend’ Denise laughed but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Honestly, I would still prefer watching your dad mowing the lawns Denise, especially if he was shirtless and all sweaty’ you teased, knowing that your comment would get under her skin just as much as her comment about her brother got under yours.

‘Oh god, you are disgusting’ Denise said while her face evidentially turned green.

‘What? Your dad is hot’ you said before asking her where he was.

‘In Manchester, filming the last season of Peaky Blinders. He will be back tonight, unfortunately’ Denise said, enjoying to have the house for herself instead.

‘Oh, so he’s got the haircut?’ you asked somewhat excited, causing your friend to roll her eyes.

‘Yes, the infamous haircut’ she chuckled before you told her again that you thought that her father was quite attractive.

‘I know you have been saying that for years. Yet, it’s still weird and grosses me out’ Denise sighed before reminding you that you have boyfriend who would not appreciate you talking about other men like this.

‘We broke up two weeks ago. He was getting a little too possessive’ you explained before you described your two-month relationship to your friend.

‘Well, sounds like you dodged a bullet there’ Denise said, repeating the age-old break-up response and you nodded, thankful that your friend was there to cheer you up, but still feeling wounded by the whole ordeal.

‘Let’s not hit on my dad though, alright?’ she then laughed and you nodded again in agreement before Denise showed you the guestroom in which you would be staying.

***

At around 9 o’clock the front door of the house opened and you watched Denise and Liam get up to greet their father who had just arrived back home after having been away for three weeks’ straight.

‘I am glad to see that you haven’t trashed the house’ he chuckled and you quickly poked your head into the corridor to say hello.

‘Hey Mr Murphy’ you said with a wide smile when you saw him. He looked incredible, as usual.

‘Jesus, Y/N can you please start calling me Cillian’ he reminded you before greeting you and asking you how you liked Galway. You had known him for a while and he had told you on many occasions that the term ‘Mr Murphy’ made him feel rather old.

After some small talk, you and Denise returned to the living room to give him some time to tune down after having been away.

The two of you curled up on the couch in the living room with popcorn and a cheesy movie, just like old times and, at around 11 o’clock, you both decided that it was time for bed.

After getting changed into your somewhat revealing satin pyjamas, you tippy toed across the hallway into the main bathroom in order to brush your teeth when, suddenly, the bathroom door opened and Cillian stood in front of you with nothing but a white towel wrapped around him.

‘Uhm, I am sorry Mr Murphy…uhm Cillian’ you said with embarrassment, realising that you had almost barged into him but he didn’t seem bothered at all.

‘Don’t worry Y/N, it’s alright. Have a good night’ he said, getting out of the way and you stumbled into the bathroom.

Without closing the door, you starred at him walking down the hallway. How on earth could a man his age look so incredibly good you wondered as your eyes took in his toned body.

When he eventually disappeared into his bedroom and you closed the bathroom door behind you, all you could smell was the scent of the soap he had used mixed with a hint of his aftershave.

You know you shouldn’t think about your friend’s father this way, but you also couldn’t help yourself. After all, you knew that you were one of many women who were attracted to him.

***

When you finally went to bed, you felt a familiar tingle between your legs as you thought about Cillian in the shower. The image didn’t leave your mind and you wondered what he would look like without the towel wrapped around him.

With this attractive man on your mind, you slowly slid your fingers down into your panties and began to relieve yourself of the tension that had built up there.

You knew that the master bedroom was right next to yours and the thought of this turned you on even more. You knew he would be lying there, on his bed, possibly half naked.

Both windows were open and he did, indeed, lie there, on his bed, reading a book which is when he heard it, your soft moans and whimpers.

He couldn’t help but swallow harshly, knowing what you were doing right there with only a thin wall between you.

But the thought that he may be able to hear you didn’t stop you as you rubbed little circles around your tingling clit a bit faster until, finally, with one loud moan, you climaxed.

Just as you did, Cillian’s manhood stirred but he wasn’t willing to give in. He had too much self-control and his mind tried hard to focus on the book in his hands rather than the sounds you were making. You were his daughter’s friend and, whilst you were almost 22, this was highly inappropriate.

****

The next morning Cillian jolted awake when the alarm clock on his phone went off and he realised that he had forgotten to turn off the alarm when he returned home after being away filming.

It was only 7 o’clock but, since he was awake now, he climbed out of bed anyway and shuffled his way to his bedroom door. He made his way to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He turned on the light and the shower water in one long movement.

After he got out of the shower and back into his shorts and a t-shirt, he wobbled out of the steamy bathroom into the kitchen where he smelled something burn.

Then, all of a sudden, he froze as he watched you standing there, flipping a pancake with precision on the stove without the use of utensils. You were unaware of his presence and he could even hear the song you were listening to on your phone.

You moved to the beat and Cillian was awestruck. After what he heard you do last night in the guestroom, his jaw dropped a few centimetres every time you rocked with the backbeat of the song.

You were wearing the same night shorts and spaghetti strap shirt you wore the night before but in the light of the sun you noticed your shorts were somewhat see through and your shirt was silk that didn't cover your breasts completely.

Eventually, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. A statue you hadn't noticed before? No, it was Cillian standing in the dining room, his mouth hanging slightly and his eyes glued to the scene before him. You paused and began to turn to the frozen figure that was still in your peripheral vision.

You yanked on the string connected to your ears expertly and one of your earphones popped out of place. Then you smiled at the shock on Cillian’s face but didn't stop moving to the song playing in your head. Cillian forced his mouth closed when he made eye contact.

‘Good morning Cillian’ you said softly. He gulped and nodded quickly before moving to where the coffee machine was standing and turning it on.

‘Good morning’ he then replied before offering you a coffee which you gladly accepted, causing Cillian to move over to the stove to reach for two cups.

You didn't move to make it easier for him to reach above the stove to the cups. Instead, you made him stretch his body over you.

You watched him as he did and you saw him trying not to look at you. He failed miserably.

‘Do you want pancakes?’ you then asked with a warm smile and Cillian nodded.

‘That would be amazing, thanks’ he stammered as he was preparing the coffees.

‘Do you like blueberries?’ you then asked, still swaying to the music on your phone and Cillian nodded again but didn't realise that you were pouring pancake mix in the pan and couldn't see his response. After a moment you looked over to him.

‘Do you like blueberries?’ you asked again quietly and Cillian smiled and nodded again.

‘Yeah, I like ...’ he cleared his throat before adding the word ‘blueberries’.

He rolled his eyes at his response when you turned back around but you simply smiled and walked him over a stack of blueberry pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup.

‘There you go’ you said as you put the plate in front of him and felt his eyes follow you when you turned around and back to the stove.

A few minutes later you dumped one last pancake on a third plate and put the plate in the microwave. You took your plate and cup of coffee and went to sit by Cillian where his food was barely touched.

‘Not hungry?’ you asked as you began to eat.

‘It’s early’ he responded, still trying hard not to stare at your cleavage.

Eventually though, you both ate in silence, a silence you loved and Cillian hated.

He couldn't think of a single joke the entire time you both sat there and you just smirked every time he grunted instead of speaking.

Soon you could hear Denise walk through the living room and this was Cillian hurried up and ate the last bit of his pancakes before excusing himself.

***

‘Wow, you actually got him to eat in the morning. That’s something’ Denise joked as she walked into the kitchen and saw that her father had eaten some of the pancakes you had prepared.

‘Where did he go?’ you then asked, knowing that he had excused himself without any further explanation.

‘Down to the basement, listening to some music I would say’ Denise said as she dug into the pancakes, enjoying them quite a lot.

‘Talking of music, do you have an iPhone charger? My phone is almost out of charge’ you asked, looking at the battery on your phone.

‘No, I’ve got a Samsung. Dad has iPhone though. Go downstairs and ask him’ Denise then suggested and you nodded before making your way down towards the basement.

***

You walked down to the basement and knocked before opening the door slowly as you didn’t hear Cillian answer you.

You didn’t want to intrude on his privacy but, to your surprise, when you did open the door, you saw more than you had bargained for.

Cillian was sitting in front of his computer and it was quite obvious to you what he was watching.

You could see most of the screen from the angle at which you were standing as well as his hardening cock in his hand. He reached over and squirted some lotion onto his palm, lubricating his whole shaft before beginning to stroke with soft squelching sounds.

You wondered whether you should say something or whether you should just turn around and leave. But, you did neither and, instead, you watched as you were getting more and more turned on.

He fast forwarded and jumped around through different videos, his thick cock towering over his fist at the bottom of every stroke. You could feel that you were getting wet, but starting to cramp a little in your unchanged position after so long. There was something deliciously naughty about watching him in secret.

After ten minutes Cillian settled on a video of a young lady who had remarkably familiar features. Her hair was about the same length and colour as yours and her skin tone and build were strikingly similar.

You started breathing more heavily and pressed your legs together to deal with the tingling sensation in your core. You enjoyed watching the porn actress's performance while Cillian’s heavy, throbbing shaft disappeared under his fist faster and faster. His cock was beautiful and you wanted to walk into the room so badly and replace his hand with yours.

Eventually, you could see Cillian’s abs begin to twitch and tighten as he got closer to his high as he continued to stroke his shaft.

‘Fuck’ he groaned as he started to cum, pumping jet after jet of stickiness back towards his chest, causing you to gulp.

But you knew what you had to do. You couldn’t walk in now, it would be too awkward.

Just after you watched Cillian clean himself up, you quickly tippy toed back upstairs which is where Denise was waiting for you.

‘Did you get dad’s charger?’ she asked but you simply shook your head.

‘Uhm, he didn’t have one…left it in Manchester I think’ you said with flushed cheeks.

‘Are you okay Y/N? You look a bit hot?’

‘Uhm…yes…fine…thanks’ you stammered out before telling Denise that you would go and have a shower.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[kayfabebabe]

Your kane x reader fics are amazing!! I love how accurately you portray him in each chapter and the growing friendship between them! May I ask for fluff headacanons of 90s kane if that's okay with a GN!reader please?? I seriously love your work so far and I hope your blog gains more attention. Keep up the good work <33

Firstly, Hello.

Thank you so so fricking much for the sweet words. You're the first ask that I've ever gotten and I've been on Tumblr for 10 years (ish) so I hope you like these Headcanons. It got a little long so they're under the cut <3 <3

Kane walks you to your car every night - Without fail. Kane knows you're not the biggest fan of the dark and he makes it his personal mission to protect you from anything hiding in the parking lot. This means that you are the last two people leaving the arena a lot of the time. It doesn't matter if his match is before yours, Kane will wait for you and, if yours is before Kane's, you wait for him. Sometimes you linger outside of your car with no real reason to, just for the chance to talk to him for longer. Kane watches you leave with a wave of his hand that you see in your rear-view mirror. He knows that you’re strong and more than capable of looking after yourself, but Kane hates the thought of you being scared and alone.

You have a secret knock - After seeing you knock ‘Shave and a haircut. Two bits’ on someone’s door, Kane decides that the two of you need a secret knock. You don’t question why.

Kane leaves you notes - (This is my favourite headcanon) Everyone knows that Kane doesn't have the best grasp of verbal communication when he comes into the WWF. It gets better over time, but he still struggles to talk some days. You find the first note after the whole Tori/X-Pac incident and seeing the first real display of Kane's unbridled emotions. Folded up on a wooden bench inside your locker room with Kane nowhere in sight. It's short in comparison to some of the notes that you'd recieve later on. In fact, it's just 2 simple words. 'Thank you. - Kane.' The notes range from Kane asking you out to lunch although he doesn't eat in front of you to long, rambling streams of conciousness that end with him thanking you for being his friend.

You introduce Kane to quiet music - This one was born out of necessity. Some people needed loud, heavy rock music to pump them up before a match. Kane needed something to calm him down afterwards. First, you try classical music. You buy a dozen CDs on the guarentee of the owner of a record store that they'll "calm the most ruthless of beasts." None of them work. Next you try country and get the same result. You make your way through an entire catalogue of different music genres until you hit upon Instrumental easy jazz. Yes, the type of stuff that you expect to hear in a coffee shop. 'Easy Listening' is a more appropriate title for it. For whatever reason, it feels like a cool wave over Kane's hot temper and, soon, he plays that CD following every match. It becomes his prized possession. On bad days when you find Kane rocking himself backwards and forwards on the floor, you play the CD and sit close by as he settles down. On good days, you can hear Kane quietly humming the familiar tunes to himself. At some point, you do have a buy another copy as Kane wears down the original although you do secretly keep the originial as a keepsake of your friendship.

You have a bad habit of falling asleep on Kane - It started off in the middle of a production meeting then it kept happening. There was just something about his presence that made you feel safe enough to let yourself drift off. You, also, couldn’t help if his arm felt better under your head than the hotel pillow. Kane fell asleep on you once following a bad couple of days. You were babbling to him about your weekend, not really paying attention to his drooping eyelids, when his head came to rest in your lap. It was so rare for Kane to let himself be vulnerable around anyone that you understand the importance of the otherwise insignificant act. You stayed like that for hours, fingers lightly massaging his scalp and brushing through his curls. That's the best Kane has slept in years.

[misscarolineshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part One of Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,528

Notes: Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You inhaled the calming aroma of your tea as you looked out into the familiar back yard while your friend Denise puttered around in the kitchen as she made you a snack.

Her mother, Laura, had recently moved out of the house and you came to visit her for the first time since, wanting to give her and her parents some time to adjust before intruding.

Denise was the same age as you and had recently started her university degree at Trinity College. You, on the other hand, attended a different university in Galway which is where you had moved to six months ago with your parents.

For a long time, you and your parents lived across the road from Denise and her parents. You both attended high school together and had become best friends.

Now, your old house was occupied by a new family with their two adorable little children and, whilst they seemed nice, Denise felt somewhat lonely not having a friend live nearby.

Denise had a brother named Liam who was 23 and still lived at home as well. He was only two years older than you and Denise and had always liked you quite a lot.

You, on the other hand, were never really interested in him and when, one night, he kissed you, you stayed away from Denise’s house for a few weeks to avoid the awkwardness.

‘He’s been working out’ you observed as you watched Liam mow the lawns outside. The buzz of the lawn mower got louder as he finished the front and methodically mowed his way around back.

‘Yes, he has been ever since he knew that you would be staying with us for the long weekend’ Denise laughed but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Honestly, I would still prefer watching your dad mowing the lawns Denise, especially if he was shirtless and all sweaty’ you teased, knowing that your comment would get under her skin just as much as her comment about her brother got under yours.

‘Oh god, you are disgusting’ Denise said while her face evidentially turned green.

‘What? Your dad is hot’ you said before asking her where he was.

‘In Manchester, filming the last season of Peaky Blinders. He will be back tonight, unfortunately’ Denise said, enjoying to have the house for herself instead.

‘Oh, so he’s got the haircut?’ you asked somewhat excited, causing your friend to roll her eyes.

‘Yes, the infamous haircut’ she chuckled before you told her again that you thought that her father was quite attractive.

‘I know you have been saying that for years. Yet, it’s still weird and grosses me out’ Denise sighed before reminding you that you have boyfriend who would not appreciate you talking about other men like this.

‘We broke up two weeks ago. He was getting a little too possessive’ you explained before you described your two-month relationship to your friend.

‘Well, sounds like you dodged a bullet there’ Denise said, repeating the age-old break-up response and you nodded, thankful that your friend was there to cheer you up, but still feeling wounded by the whole ordeal.

‘Let’s not hit on my dad though, alright?’ she then laughed and you nodded again in agreement before Denise showed you the guestroom in which you would be staying.

***

At around 9 o’clock the front door of the house opened and you watched Denise and Liam get up to greet their father who had just arrived back home after having been away for three weeks’ straight.

‘I am glad to see that you haven’t trashed the house’ he chuckled and you quickly poked your head into the corridor to say hello.

‘Hey Mr Murphy’ you said with a wide smile when you saw him. He looked incredible, as usual.

‘Jesus, Y/N can you please start calling me Cillian’ he reminded you before greeting you and asking you how you liked Galway. You had known him for a while and he had told you on many occasions that the term ‘Mr Murphy’ made him feel rather old.

After some small talk, you and Denise returned to the living room to give him some time to tune down after having been away.

The two of you curled up on the couch in the living room with popcorn and a cheesy movie, just like old times and, at around 11 o’clock, you both decided that it was time for bed.

After getting changed into your somewhat revealing satin pyjamas, you tippy toed across the hallway into the main bathroom in order to brush your teeth when, suddenly, the bathroom door opened and Cillian stood in front of you with nothing but a white towel wrapped around him.

‘Uhm, I am sorry Mr Murphy…uhm Cillian’ you said with embarrassment, realising that you had almost barged into him but he didn’t seem bothered at all.

‘Don’t worry Y/N, it’s alright. Have a good night’ he said, getting out of the way and you stumbled into the bathroom.

Without closing the door, you starred at him walking down the hallway. How on earth could a man his age look so incredibly good you wondered as your eyes took in his toned body.

When he eventually disappeared into his bedroom and you closed the bathroom door behind you, all you could smell was the scent of the soap he had used mixed with a hint of his aftershave.

You know you shouldn’t think about your friend’s father this way, but you also couldn’t help yourself. After all, you knew that you were one of many women who were attracted to him.

***

When you finally went to bed, you felt a familiar tingle between your legs as you thought about Cillian in the shower. The image didn’t leave your mind and you wondered what he would look like without the towel wrapped around him.

With this attractive man on your mind, you slowly slid your fingers down into your panties and began to relieve yourself of the tension that had built up there.

You knew that the master bedroom was right next to yours and the thought of this turned you on even more. You knew he would be lying there, on his bed, possibly half naked.

Both windows were open and he did, indeed, lie there, on his bed, reading a book which is when he heard it, your soft moans and whimpers.

He couldn’t help but swallow harshly, knowing what you were doing right there with only a thin wall between you.

But the thought that he may be able to hear you didn’t stop you as you rubbed little circles around your tingling clit a bit faster until, finally, with one loud moan, you climaxed.

Just as you did, Cillian’s manhood stirred but he wasn’t willing to give in. He had too much self-control and his mind tried hard to focus on the book in his hands rather than the sounds you were making. You were his daughter’s friend and, whilst you were almost 22, this was highly inappropriate.

****

The next morning Cillian jolted awake when the alarm clock on his phone went off and he realised that he had forgotten to turn off the alarm when he returned home after being away filming.

It was only 7 o’clock but, since he was awake now, he climbed out of bed anyway and shuffled his way to his bedroom door. He made his way to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He turned on the light and the shower water in one long movement.

After he got out of the shower and back into his shorts and a t-shirt, he wobbled out of the steamy bathroom into the kitchen where he smelled something burn.

Then, all of a sudden, he froze as he watched you standing there, flipping a pancake with precision on the stove without the use of utensils. You were unaware of his presence and he could even hear the song you were listening to on your phone.

You moved to the beat and Cillian was awestruck. After what he heard you do last night in the guestroom, his jaw dropped a few centimetres every time you rocked with the backbeat of the song.

You were wearing the same night shorts and spaghetti strap shirt you wore the night before but in the light of the sun you noticed your shorts were somewhat see through and your shirt was silk that didn't cover your breasts completely.

Eventually, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. A statue you hadn't noticed before? No, it was Cillian standing in the dining room, his mouth hanging slightly and his eyes glued to the scene before him. You paused and began to turn to the frozen figure that was still in your peripheral vision.

You yanked on the string connected to your ears expertly and one of your earphones popped out of place. Then you smiled at the shock on Cillian’s face but didn't stop moving to the song playing in your head. Cillian forced his mouth closed when he made eye contact.

‘Good morning Cillian’ you said softly. He gulped and nodded quickly before moving to where the coffee machine was standing and turning it on.

‘Good morning’ he then replied before offering you a coffee which you gladly accepted, causing Cillian to move over to the stove to reach for two cups.

You didn't move to make it easier for him to reach above the stove to the cups. Instead, you made him stretch his body over you.

You watched him as he did and you saw him trying not to look at you. He failed miserably.

‘Do you want pancakes?’ you then asked with a warm smile and Cillian nodded.

‘That would be amazing, thanks’ he stammered as he was preparing the coffees.

‘Do you like blueberries?’ you then asked, still swaying to the music on your phone and Cillian nodded again but didn't realise that you were pouring pancake mix in the pan and couldn't see his response. After a moment you looked over to him.

‘Do you like blueberries?’ you asked again quietly and Cillian smiled and nodded again.

‘Yeah, I like ...’ he cleared his throat before adding the word ‘blueberries’.

He rolled his eyes at his response when you turned back around but you simply smiled and walked him over a stack of blueberry pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup.

‘There you go’ you said as you put the plate in front of him and felt his eyes follow you when you turned around and back to the stove.

A few minutes later you dumped one last pancake on a third plate and put the plate in the microwave. You took your plate and cup of coffee and went to sit by Cillian where his food was barely touched.

‘Not hungry?’ you asked as you began to eat.

‘It’s early’ he responded, still trying hard not to stare at your cleavage.

Eventually though, you both ate in silence, a silence you loved and Cillian hated.

He couldn't think of a single joke the entire time you both sat there and you just smirked every time he grunted instead of speaking.

Soon you could hear Denise walk through the living room and this was Cillian hurried up and ate the last bit of his pancakes before excusing himself.

***

‘Wow, you actually got him to eat in the morning. That’s something’ Denise joked as she walked into the kitchen and saw that her father had eaten some of the pancakes you had prepared.

‘Where did he go?’ you then asked, knowing that he had excused himself without any further explanation.

‘Down to the basement, listening to some music I would say’ Denise said as she dug into the pancakes, enjoying them quite a lot.

‘Talking of music, do you have an iPhone charger? My phone is almost out of charge’ you asked, looking at the battery on your phone.

‘No, I’ve got a Samsung. Dad has iPhone though. Go downstairs and ask him’ Denise then suggested and you nodded before making your way down towards the basement.

***

You walked down to the basement and knocked before opening the door slowly as you didn’t hear Cillian answer you.

You didn’t want to intrude on his privacy but, to your surprise, when you did open the door, you saw more than you had bargained for.

Cillian was sitting in front of his computer and it was quite obvious to you what he was watching.

You could see most of the screen from the angle at which you were standing as well as his hardening cock in his hand. He reached over and squirted some lotion onto his palm, lubricating his whole shaft before beginning to stroke with soft squelching sounds.

You wondered whether you should say something or whether you should just turn around and leave. But, you did neither and, instead, you watched as you were getting more and more turned on.

He fast forwarded and jumped around through different videos, his thick cock towering over his fist at the bottom of every stroke. You could feel that you were getting wet, but starting to cramp a little in your unchanged position after so long. There was something deliciously naughty about watching him in secret.

After ten minutes Cillian settled on a video of a young lady who had remarkably familiar features. Her hair was about the same length and colour as yours and her skin tone and build were strikingly similar.

You started breathing more heavily and pressed your legs together to deal with the tingling sensation in your core. You enjoyed watching the porn actress's performance while Cillian’s heavy, throbbing shaft disappeared under his fist faster and faster. His cock was beautiful and you wanted to walk into the room so badly and replace his hand with yours.

Eventually, you could see Cillian’s abs begin to twitch and tighten as he got closer to his high as he continued to stroke his shaft.

‘Fuck’ he groaned as he started to cum, pumping jet after jet of stickiness back towards his chest, causing you to gulp.

But you knew what you had to do. You couldn’t walk in now, it would be too awkward.

Just after you watched Cillian clean himself up, you quickly tippy toed back upstairs which is where Denise was waiting for you.

‘Did you get dad’s charger?’ she asked but you simply shook your head.

‘Uhm, he didn’t have one…left it in Manchester I think’ you said with flushed cheeks.

‘Are you okay Y/N? You look a bit hot?’

‘Uhm…yes…fine…thanks’ you stammered out before telling Denise that you would go and have a shower.

[the-tiniest-one]

Parenting Rock Lee with Might Guy :)

Note:@xemaliahrssx here ya go! I hope it tastes just like you dreamed it would!

Sitting at the kitchen table, watching Guy and Lee devour the dinner you made, had you feeling nostalgic... You watched with your head rested on your hand. It was the little family moments that you appreciated more than anything else these days. "Yeah! and then I caught him in a cross block!" Lee said, describing their latest mission, his mouth full of food.

"Haha yes yes (y/n) you should have been there, our Rock Lee is becoming a real force to be reckoned with, much like his handsome sensei" Guy said with a wink in your direction.

"Handsome indeed" you said with a grin.

Thinking back to the days when you were a little more of a workaholic made you laugh. If you told your younger-self all those years ago that you would be Konoha's worst helicopter parent in just a few years, you'd have never believed it. Guy was a perfect match for you in that regard. You two were a well oiled machine when it came to parenting.

While Lee could do no wrong in your eyes, Guy was a bit heavy handed in his discipline of Lee's skills as a shinobi. You kissed every bruise and scrape, while Guy was teaching him how to prevent them in the first place.

Rock Lee has had more than his fair share of the short-end-of-the- shit-stick his entire life. BUT One could be forgiven for not recognizing the true level of hardship the boy has overcome in his short tenure as a shinobi. Lee is a true underdog.

Lucky for him, you've always been a bit of a sucker for an underdog.

You thought back to those early days......

Even before Lee evolved to a mini version of your childhood crush, you felt the need to protect him. Watching him fumble and practice jutsu in vain day after day.....early in the morning and into the night. You would watch him from a distance while training your own team. One early morning, you decided to check in on the boy with long black hair. He kicked at a post, counting off as you looked on...10....11.....12.....his kicks were weak even for his young age. As he got closer to 50 he fell back, overwhelmed by the pain of repetitively beating his shins into the wood without chakra to safeguard his bones.

Clearly angry at his situation, the thought occurred to you that maybe he wasn't using chakra because he couldn't....the boy had tears streaming from his eyes. It broke your heart to watch a kid who couldn't be more than 10, cursing his life.

"A kid working that hard shouldn't have to feel that defeated..." you said to yourself.

You felt conflicted. Torn between wanting to step in and takeover his training...but feeling the weight of responsibility that would come with encouraging a child to chase a pipedream that would only lead to disappointment. You knew all too well what happens to weak ninja. The reality was that it would be cruel to encourage the boy to peruse a life as dangerous as that of a shinobi. You were no slouch when it came to taijutsu but ninjas are able to compete with one another because of the advantages that come with developing kakai genki.

Could a boy with no use of chakra stand a chance against the generations of those families of ninja who use fearsome jutsu and tactics like lightning...wind....wood or even hereditary gifts like the dreaded sharingan or byakugen? The real answer was sad and harsh. No. He couldn't.

You wouldn't be so irresponsible as to tell the boy he could be anything but a failure.

If he perused that path, he would die young.

So you stood back, restraining the desire to comfort and nurture the little boy out of what you told yourself was mercy. Day after day, week after week....you watched on....until it became too much. You couldn't sleep anymore, couldn't function on missions the same way. Always thinking back to him still out at those training grounds.....always struggling.

....

One morning it was pouring rain. You called off training that day for your team and headed out to the place you knew he would be. He was there of course. He was doing his best to catch a cold while practicing hand signs to no avail. After watching him for a few minutes you finally asked, "What's your name kid?" speaking loud to project over the rain. Startled he looked up to where you stood, perched on a post a few feat away. "I...Im Rock Lee" he said timidly. You laughed at his shy but sweet face, "Im y/n" you said.

"Your kicks look like they could use some work", holding your palm about chest high, to show him where his blow should be landing. The boy grimaced...clearly angry with his lack of direction in training. You laughed and the both of you worked on his kicks for the duration of the morning.

"I think you'll be a splendid ninja someday" you said as you offered him a bit of lunch you packed. The boy looked up at you with the most heartbreaking fear in his eyes, "I can't use chakra" Lee said barley above a whisper, clearly ashamed to tell you the truth.

You ruffled his hair. "Look kid, life is shitty sometimes. But I can tell you are someone who will never quit. No matter the odds, and that is something worth more than all the talent in the world." He instantly smiled up at you, melting your heart for what would be the first of a million times. Laughing and showing you also first time you saw that shiny smile that you would come to love more that anything on earth.

From then on he was your responsibility. Your chest burned with pride in his concrete determination. Feeling instantly the protective burn and feral instinct to insulate him from anything that would hurt him.

....

It was about a year later when things evolved. You and Lee had become close. He, being an orphan as you found out he was, had taken your invitation to live in your spare bedroom. It wasn't long before you were nagging him to be sure and eat breakfast before class, take baths every night. You were often hearing your mothers voice echo in your own as you guided the child to a structure he lacked.

You even went to his parent meetings at the Academy, much to the surprise of Iruka (because he himself was 2 years older than you and had known you since you were smol) laughed when you asked to see Lee's reports.

----

Then one hot summer day you got the order... your team was dispatched on your first extended mission with your new genin. 3 months on a C rank mission to Suna. Your heart sank as you remembered Lee's graduation exam was in just a few days. Before you left, you kissed his forehead and promised a tearful Lee who had become just as attached as you over the last year, that would bring him back a graduation present.

You just knew he would finally pass.

....

Returning to the village near midnight you couldn't wait to see Lee. After giving report to Lord Third, you quickly made your way home. Quietly cracking the door to his bedroom, you peaked in to see his sweet little face. The snoring boy looked peaceful.

"He cut his hair?" you thought puzzled..."he must have done it himself, it looks a little odd." You laughed at the thought of him using a bowl to cut his hair.

Then your eyes traveled to the headband still around his forehead, "He passed!!!" you quietly celebrated, careful not to wake him up. You placed the promised gift on his dresser, a brand-new set of num-chuks you'd had made in Suna.

The next morning you were up before sunrise making a celebratory breakfast when an extreme round of knocking came from the apartment's front door.

You quickly answered, immediately flustered when on the other side was none other than Might Guy....the same Guy you'd had the hots for over a decade.

"Y/N!, I must have the wrong address! I was looking for one of my students!" Guy said in his familiar boisterous cadence. Laughing nervously you started to respond, when behind you Lee pushed his way through the doorframe. Your eyes widened at the sight.

The haircut made sense now, Lee stood side by side with his sensei. He was wearing Guy's jumpsuit... they could have been father and son.

Looking at the two of them standing side by side in front of you for the first time gave you the most jarring sense of dejavu.

"Guy sensei! Look what Y/N brought me from her most dangerous mission!" Lee brandished the weapon, beaming up at his teacher who laughed and winked in your direction. "Ah, a great choice! Only the most skilled ninja know how to use such a fine weapon! We must enlighten you at once Lee my boy!" With that the handsome jonin and your sweet Rock Lee were off to train.

You had known Guy since he was still struggling to gain entrance to the Academy, you knew that the man who radiated confidence today, only earned that ability through blood, sweat, and tears.

You apprehensively accepted that Might Guy was a good match to be Lee's sensei.

"Be careful!" you called, more than a little apprehensive at the thought of your sweet baby boy training with such an admittedly impulsive man. Feeling a small tug of sadness as you watched the two of them disappear down the street.

"Lee's getting tall..." you though as you closed the door.

....

Over the next few years Lee had grown into a strong young man. You felt such extreme pride in everything he did. Even though you being in your mid-twenties were not nearly old enough to be Lee's mother, he had taken to occasionally calling you mom.

Lee was never embarrassed of you as he grew into a teen like some of the other kids his age. He was always just as willing to give you a hug before a mission as the day you met him.

It would be a lie to say that the relationship you and Guy shared hadn't also matured along the way. Although you weren't Lee's biological parents, anyone would be forgiven for thinking that you were. Everything you had admired about Guy, his hot-bloodedness, his devotion to youthful perseverance, his love of his village had been passed down to your surrogate son.

It was only natural that you and Guy would become a team in raising Rock Lee. Over time after a few years of dinners, training sessions, birthdays, holidays etc...Guy decided to propose to you.

It was a literal dream come true. You couldn't say yes fast enough. But as required when two shinobi become married, when you went to sign the paperwork to make your marriage official, requesting a stamp of approval from Lady Tsunade....she extended to you a folder with a second set of forms.

Guy beamed as you read the contents. Adoption papers with Lee's name printed at the top in bold.

"He will always be our son. Since we are making it official... why not add one more?" Guy said with a laugh. The tears began welling in your eyes. "He's 17" you laughed, "I love you" is all you could think to say in response to the most kind gesture you have ever witnessed.

Guy held his trademark thumbs up high as he replied, "Lee will always need his mom, no matter how big he gets!" His words like music to your heart...

You'd never felt so complete as you walked hand in hand with Guy, on your way home to surprise your sweet son with the news.

Upon telling Lee what the two of you had done, he looked from the papers back to you. Confusion spread across the sweet ravenette's features. "But I do not understand" Lee said with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Have you not always been my mom?"

The innocent look in his eye and profound sincerity in his voice made tears well in your eyes for what felt like the tenth time that day. You laughed and swept he and Guy into a hug that didn't last long enough. "What's for dinner?" the two men asked in unison and in that moment you knew you were the luckiest person in the world.

[jaehyunoos]

- Over it

Summary: You always preached about getting over your ex, real fast. But what if you haven't and you've been lying to yourself all along?

Genre: Breakup!au, angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end

Tw?: Alcohol consumption, a mention of reader wanting to unalive herself, reader is lying to herself as a coping mechanism???

Pairing: Lee Jeno x fem!reader (brief mentions of Haechan)

Word Count: 1.7k (it's the longest I've ever written lmfao)

Author's Note; Angsty queen or what?? lmao,, HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE JENO !!!! also, my requests are open if you want to request anything I will deliver <3 if you read this I love you and thank you for reading !! Enjoy 💚

You were over him. You were sure of that. After breaking up you did absolutely everything to get him out of your mind and surprisingly enough, it worked. You got a new haircut, started a new job, took care of yourself better, and made new friends. Life was a piece of cake for you when he left, everything came to a lot easier, in which you were thankful for that. You had moved on once and for all... Or so you thought.

Finding yourself looking back at times you were with him, how happy he made you, how much of a gentleman he was, how he made you feel like you were high; above everyone, and how much pleasure he gave you, you were his muse.

Slapping yourself out of your trance, you promised yourself to not think about him anymore. This night was going to be all about you and you only. Not Jeno -hell- not even a hundred Jenos couldn't stop you from having fun tonight. You were over him and that was final.

Walking into the house; which the party was hosted. Nose filing with the writhing stench of pure alcohol, mixed with sweat, you internally gagged passing by a couple making out at the kitchen entrance, you rolled your eyes taking a beer from the fridge and making your way out to the sofa. No way you would get out of this party sober, you had to drink, you had to get wasted. In honor of this prick; Lee Jeno, your ex.

You always boasted about how you were over him and how you didn't love him anymore. How he hurt you so bad that your feelings for him just stopped. You were so full of yourself, wow you had gotten over a relationship that you thought would be tough to manage, what a surprise. But seeing him walk into this house -powerfully so- with a lady by his side smiling and hugging his friends, you started to rethink everything you've done so far.

Were you really over the one and only; Lee Jeno? Or was all of this just a front, a new way of coping without him in your life? How did you manage to lie to yourself and believe it?

You know what they say; fake it 'till you make it. But did you? Did you make it? No, the fuck you did not. You were not over him. And you wouldn't be able to get over him, ever. Today marks the day you realized you didn't move on, putting one and two together you realized that all this time you were lying to yourself, and everyone around you. The hypocrisy.

Chugging the liquid down your throat, along with the betrayal you felt, the cold liquid cooling off your insides, making you feel a lot better at that moment. You smiled to yourself, alcohol made you feel free, your coping mechanism of a real escape once in a while. You got up to your feet, straightening your clothes, you made your way to the kitchen once again. You made sure you walked past them in long, powerful strides, grabbing your beer and exiting the kitchen, the same way you entered.

You glanced at them, seeing as he didn't even spare a glance at you, you sulked on the sofa. You couldn't stop thinking about the way he held her, by her waist, as if she was something so delicate; so fragile that if he held her in his arms for too long, she would break and disappear from his arms. You wanted to cry at that moment, he looked so happy. Maybe he truly was, maybe he didn't lie to himself like you did, and he was truly over you.

Or maybe he wasn't, you liked to cope with that idea. That he was putting up a front for you and everyone, that he didn't move on from you, but only the pained ones can dream, am I right? You wanted to dip at that moment, hide forever; or die. You shouldn't have come to this party, ever. Maybe if you stayed home and kept lying to yourself that you were happy, that you were able to live your life better without him. But at the same time, you wanted to get up and give him a good old slap into his handsome face.

How could he move on that fast? Get a new girlfriend, just like that, as if you never meant anything to him, ever. A person sitting beside you, suddenly, took you out of your train of thoughts.

"Hyuck!!, hey!" you breathed out.

Lee Donghyuck aka; Haechan. One of Jeno's best friends aka; your emotional support boy, was there with you, in all your crazy times after your breakup with him. "Hey, babydoll" he came closer to your face so you could hear what he said. Babydoll. The nickname he created after he, unexpectedly, caught you crying over baby dollies once, while he was over for late nights talks.

"What are you doing here all by yourself, mi querida?" asked, him.

"I'm trying to have as much fun as I can, I have so much to do this week" you let out a fake sigh, you had no work, no classes this week. You were just creating excuses because you were gonna spend those 7 days crying yourself to sleep and eat ice cream 'til you throw up.

Haechan threw an arm around you "he's here you know" he motioned towards Jeno and his crew with his chin, you looked over there for a second, catching a glimpse of Jeno smiling. You looked down at your red solo cup, sighing, "I know, what can I do about it" you looked at his eyes this time. "it's his birthday today".

"I know, how could I forget" you smiled.

"Maybe, I don't know, go there and wish-"

"ooookay time to get up and dance" you patted his thigh as you got up.

"Gosh, why are you so stubborn, I asked you to wish him a happy birthday, not fuck him, for god's sake!!" Haechan shot up from the sofa.

You stood there for a second, frozen, what was this outburst?

"Are you out of your mind!? He's clearly over me Hyuck, and as much as I wanna go up there and give him the biggest hug I can't. I can't just barge into his life back again and be like "heeey" as if nothing ever happened between us, as if we didn't hurt each other!"

You didn't mean to burst out like that, he probably heard what you said in fact; everyone did. Tears gathering in your eyes, you ran outside, the embarrassment too much to handle. You felt overwhelmed. You felt as if everyone was pushing you all this time and you -just now- had finally reached your breaking point.

Sitting on a bench near the pool, you let your sadness, frustration, regret, lies; everything takes over you as you sobbed into your hands. You felt stupid for crying over something so small, you felt bad because Haechan was probably somewhere beating himself up for pushing your limits. You didn't mean to be that sensitive.

You suddenly felt movement beside you as if someone sat there. You took your face out of your hands and looked at the person. Gasping, you wiped your -now wide- eyes and sat straight. There was none there besides the one and only, yeah you guessed it; Lee Jeno. "Do you mind if I sit here?" he gave you a soft smile.

'It's okay, you can sit, I guess" you cleared your throat.

You looked at him as he stared straight into the sky, a soft smile displaying on his lips as he rocked himself gently, back and forth. Mimicking his position, you did the same as you looked to the front, enjoying the cold breeze. "What happened to us?" you heard him speak, you turned to him, shrugging, "I don't know".

"it's like one minute we were in love and the other we were not"

you frowned.

"true, it's just one of us stopped loving the other for good but the one who thought that she had everything under control, turns out she's still madly in love, with the other" you smiled at him.

What you said caught him off guard, his eyes went wide in shock, but he quickly recovered. "Look, don't get me wrong I loved you; a lot, heck I might still love you. No, scratch that I am still in love with you, but, I'm in a very happy and healthy relationship and I want to keep it that way" you felt yourself tense up at the word 'relationship' but you quickly covered it up with a smile "it's okay Jeno, I get it, I never really expected anything after our breakup anyways" you patted his shoulder as you continued looking at the stars in the sky.

"Hey, Jen" you called out to him.

"Hm?"

"Can I get a last hug?" you looked at him.

"Come here" he motioned as he opened his arms to engulf you in a hug.

That's what it felt like hugging your whole world.

Finally. She felt as if she found her peace again. Her safe haven. After all the pain, the drama and deceit, the chaos and despair, there was rest. She felt once again the warmth and safety of his arms and how his hands held her as if he had known her all her life. She was finally home.

"She felt as if she found her peace again. Her safe haven." But that only would last that long as Jeno had to go back home to the safety of the arms of his girlfriend, and she had to go back to an empty home, an empty world, cause that's what her world felt like without him; empty. She wanted him back in her arms, she needed to be in his arms, but it was too late for that as Jeno went back to his girlfriend and she had to go back home, full of regrets. She was not over him and she chooses to ignore it and the more she ignored it the more further away Jeno slipped from her arms to the arms of another.

[desert-bluffs-and-me]

WTNV Quick Rundown - 5 - The Shape in Grove Park

Heya! Catch up on the previous episodes here! or by checking the tag #wtnv quick rundown on the blog!

This series is a bulletpoint list of lore, facts, quotes and interesting bits of whatever from the podcast/live shows for both old fans who forget some stuff and new fans that wanna get through it and catch up quick! Although I do still recommend listening eventually because there's a lot of tone I can't capture (though may try to). Now, without further ado!

Close your eyes. Let my words wash over you. You are safe now. Welcome to Night Vale.

There is a Shape In Grove Park That No One Acknowledges Or Speaks About. It gives out low moans and has a gelatinous quiver. It is considered a local historical landmark and citizens are upset that the City Council is removing it to make way for a picnic table, swingset and Blood Stone Circle. It is eventually moved to the front of the radio station, which causes the radio host to have a tiny existential crisis.* But eventually becomes angry at being acknowledged so City Council moves it in return for the radio hosts silence. It's also worthy of note that City Council is a Thing, referred to by it/it's and they/them pronouns.

There is a Night Vale Green Market Co-Op. It's Board President is Tristan Cortez. They are finally going to actually start selling food, which they weren't before due to the whole place being a coverup for secretive domestic espionage operations.

Michael Sandero, previously mentioned quarterback, has grown a second more attractive, more intelligent head. Michael's mother likes this head better and has updated the 'Which of my children do I like better' board outside of her home. Sandero gives no comment, because the radio station didn't bother to try and get one.

Illiteracy, unwanted pregnancy and violet crime is on the rise in the tarantula community. Animal control is addressing these problems with after school programmes titled "teach a spider to read: stop the madness". You volunteer by weeping into your bathtub 'until it's all gone'.

There is a Fuel and Go gas station in Night Vale. Rita Hayworth has been spotted there by Old Woman Josie and an angel she is with. Even though this person looked nothing at all like Rita, the angel assured her it was Rita.

The Night Vale Community Theatre is introduced. They're having auditions for 'Once on This Island'. As well as the usual things expected of such auditions, is it required to give blood, stool and have radiation testing. You are NOT allowed to sing anything from South Pacific and POC are encouraged to audition as part of the equal opportunities employment offered by the theatre group. Also, actors with long-range sniper training, Fortran computer programming, and top-notch wilderness survival skills are a plus. Results are announced in secret.

The radio host does not understand or trust the moon. Like, the actual moon. He doesn't get it. He tried to ask Carlos about it, but Carlos hasn't been seen much since his haircut, it seems.

The Night Vale District has made some changes to it's elementary school curriculum: History class will focus more heavily on textbook readings and traditional exams, rather than live ammo drills (due to parent feedback).

Geology is adding a new type of rock on the grounds that it’s been awhile since anyone has done that (Vimby which is pale blue and completely edible. Points will be awarded to the first student to discover a real world example of it.)

Math and English are switching names. Their curriculum will stay exactly the same. Astronomy will now be conducting stargazing sessions with blindfolds, in order to protect them from the existential terror of the void (Pluto has been declared imaginary)

All classrooms will be equipped with at least one teacher physically present for the entire instruction period. Astral projection will no longer be used in any classroom situation.

In addition to the current foreign language offerings of Spanish, French, and Modified Sumerian, there will now be Double Spanish, Weird Spanish, Coptic Spanish, Russian, and Unmodified Sumerian.  

Weather: "Jerusalem" by Dan Bern, danbern.com

There is a service for Intern Leland at the radio station, where he is buried in the break room (as customary) and the questions of his family cannot be answered.

The radio host finally names himself as 'Cecil' at the end of this episode.

He once more signs off with 'goodnight listeners, goodnight'.

[jmnjmnjmn]

Your Noona | Requested Idol!JK x NonIdol/Noona!Reader | Fluffy Oneshot

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x NonIdol/Noona!Reader

Sides: ChildhoodFriend!Taehyung, Friends!BTS

Keywords: noona, age gap, secret crush, f2l

Warnings: swearing

Word count: around 5,500

There is mention of a house warming party. In Korea it is somewhat traditional to bring over toilet paper and cleaning supplies when going to such gathering, so please don’t be surprised when YN talks about the stacks of tp in her apartment xd

Request

Inspo board

Masterlist

Noona

Noona is a word used by Korean males to address females older than them who they are close to (biological or not).

-

With her leather handbag full of gifts and trinkets from France weighing on her shoulder, YN pressed the elevator button. She waited in front of the heavy steel door, staring at the bright red light-up sign above it.

“10, 9, 8.” She counted in her head as the numbers went down signalling the coming of the elevator. “7, 6, 5.” She sighed, unable to brush off the tiredness caused by the jetlag. “4, 3, 2, 1.” The door slid open with a quiet bell sound. YN hesitated before pressing in the correct number. “Was it 6th or 7th?” She whispered to herself, cursing at her forgetfulness. She ended up pressing both numbers.

Looking into the mirrored back wall of the elevator she checked herself out, making sure there were no imperfections in her outfit, hair, or makeup. Her camel-coloured coat reached right to her knees, leaving just the right amount of leg out to look cute, but not feel too cold in the winter’s cold weather. She unbuttoned the outer garment to take a look at the light brown mini skirt and blazer combo she wore today. Paired with an ecru blouse, nude tights, and white leather sneakers she looked rather casual than smart.

A robotic female voice announced the elevator’s arrival on the sixth floor of the building. YN looked out the door, unsure if that was where her best friend had his studio. She stepped out onto the somewhat familiar corridor, looking around for anyone to ask for directions. She walked down the long hallway, white lights above her head, unmarked doors to either side of her, unrecognizable chatter behind most of them.

“Where are you Kim Taaehyung?” She muttered under her breath, simultaneously reaching into the pocket of her coat to fish out her cellphone. “Tae-hyung-ie.” She syllabized while typing in her best friend’s name into her contacts. She raised the device to her ear right after starting the call. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” She whispered quickly, hoping she didn’t drive out here for no reason. The static beeping noise was abruptly broken and replaced with the familiar low voice of a boy she knew since kindergarten.

“YN noona?” Taehyung asked and his surprised tone echoed through both of YN’s ears. She looked around, taken aback by the weird stereo effect she was experiencing. She turned to look behind her and saw one of the doors she passed by opening.

“Taehyung-ie, are you at your studio?” She asked, skipping over any greetings.

“Y- yes, why?” He answered her with another question. He wasn’t expecting her call and had to excuse himself from dance practice to pick up.

“Taehyung-ie!” YN exclaimed, seeing him walk out from behind the opening door and onto the bland corridor.

“Noona?!” Taehyung yelled into the phone making her wince at the incredible volume of his voice. “Oh my god!” He discarded his phone into the back pocket of his jeans before running up to and engulfing her in a suffocating hug. “YN noona!”

“Ah, seriously?” YN gasped out the bits of air that he didn’t manage to squeeze out of her lungs with his strong embrace. “Let go of me.” She groaned, pushing him away playfully. He had the sweetest boxy smile on his face and her expression wasn’t too far off of his.

“When did you come back?” He ran his hand through his black hair. It was still slightly curly with remains of the perm he got a couple of weeks back.

“Last night, you crazy person.” She chuckled, punching his arm and he squirmed jokingly.

“Ah, noona.” He sighed, his eyes dreamy with all the happiness he was experiencing at this moment. Spontaneously he threw his arm around her shoulders, bringing her into a side hug. “I missed you.” YN felt her heart growing warmer with every second.

“I missed you too, Taehyung.” She admitted without hesitation earning a giggle from her friend.

“Why are you here?” He asked after a moment, realizing she should be thousands of kilometres away, working in her company’s European branch. “I mean- I thought you weren’t coming back until next Chuseok.” He corrected himself not to sound rude.

“Yeah, well I got bored of Paris.” She shrugged, unconvincingly since there was a mischievous grin plastered across her face.

“Bored? Of Paris? You?” He cocked his eyebrow at her, knowing she’s withholding some juicy piece of information from him.

“I just missed Korea too much to stay away for any longer.” She looked up at him with that same grin.

“Yeah, right.” He scoffed.

“And…” She elongated the word as she slipped from under his arm and stopped to stand face to face with him. “I got a promotion!” She finally exclaimed, grabbing his hands in hers.

“Congratulations!” He screamed out, matching her excited pitch.

“Thank you!” They jumped up and down, tugging on each other’s hands for a moment longer before Taehyung stopped to ask an obvious question.

“So who are you now?” YN smiled, happy to hear him ask about her new position.

“Say ‘hello’ to Y/Company’s/N’s youngest C.A.O..” She said in a jokingly seductive tone, smiling brightly. 

“What is that?” Taehyung scrunched his eyebrows in a frown. YN exhaled a chuckle at his lack of knowledge about company titles.

“God, it’s- it’s Chief Administrative Officer.” She explained but seeing his expression stay the same as it was she decided to go deeper into the description of the post. “It means I’m a top-tier executive who supervises daily operations of the company and I’m also responsible for its overall performance.”

“That’s good.” He nodded unsure if it was good.

“Hell yeah, it is!” YN laughed, wrapping her arm around his shoulders with some struggle since he was now taller than she was.

“Does that mean you’re moving back to Korea?” He looked at her with hope, but she didn’t notice as her gaze was directed forward.

“Yeah, at least for a couple of years.” Taehyung shoved her arm off of himself in shock.

“A couple of- that’s great, YN!” He pushed his chest against her face when he suddenly hugged her tightly. “I’m so happy for you!” He screamed, rocking them both side to side.

“Thank you!” She snaked her arms around his waist before pushing away. She was usually the one breaking hugs and ending sad goodbye’s because if it was up to Taehyung she would never leave his side. “I’m also so very happy, but still, a little bummed I had to leave my Parisian life behind.” She whined slightly, looking down onto her fumbling hands.

“Ah, but now you’ll start your Seoul life again.” Taehyung spoke in a tone of a visionary. He put his arm behind her back and used the other to drag over the imaginary horizon. “With me by your side, it won’t be that bad.” He added quickly.

“Won’t be bad at all.” She chuckled, putting an elbow to his side.

“That’s what I like to hear!” He laughed out. “So, when are you buying me dinner?” YN scoffed at his forwardness. Sometimes he just loved to take advantage of their month-long age gap.

“Who do you think-” She was getting ready to teasingly scold him, but interrupted her with a loud call.

“Jungkook-ie!” He exclaimed, looking to the door he earlier exited. “Look who’s here to buy us dinner.”

“You little- wait, that’s-”

YN barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping at the sight of the boy she last saw about a year ago - face to face at least. She saw all the boys of BTS all the time during her Skype calls with Taehyung, they’d often drop by to chat or whatnot, Jungkook included, but seeing him in real life… Was an experience, to say the least. He was fit, there was no way around it. Well dressed. With a handsome face and a good haircut. YN sighed as she was reminded of her small crush on the boy.

To add gasoline to the flame Jungkook had a similar experience seeing YN, standing under his hyung’s arm in the middle of the sixth floor’s corridor looking so… Breathtaking. Ever since he realized he had a crush on her he… He merely couldn’t find any other way to describe her. She changed so much in the passing years, evolved, grew into herself. He wasn’t expecting to see her and if she paid him enough mind she would notice how shocked and flustered he was. However, preoccupied with the excitement of seeing her best friend again and the time pressure of having to go meet her realtor in just a short while she didn’t. Jungkook inhaled sharply in an attempt to calm himself down and stop the racing of thoughts in his head.

“YN noona!” He exclaimed with excitement and shock lining his voice. “When did you-”

“Last night.” Taehyung interrupted him, dragging YN under his arm to walk closer to the other boy.

“And for how-”

“For good!” He interrupted him again and Jungkook’s eyes widened at the prospect of seeing YN more often because if she was going to stay in Seoul she was most definitely going to hang out with Taehyung and if she hung out with him he could tag along and stare at her all he wanted, admiring her beauty, getting lost in the sweet sound of her voice, the smell of her-

“Hey, that’s not decided.” YN replied, poking her best friend in the side and removing Jungkook out of his daydream.

“For a couple of years at least.” Taehyung explained by quoting her earlier words.

“That’s great.” He smiled at her as they stood right by each other now. “It’s so nice to see you again. You look healthy.” She smiled at his kindhearted comment, not paying it much mind while he cursed himself out in his head for not saying something more personal or meaningful.

“So, noona what are we eating?” Taehyung asked, rubbing her shoulder.

“Nothing, Taehyung!” She scolded him, instantly jumping from under his heavy arm. “I only came by to say ‘hello’ and give you…” She reached into her purse and pulled out a big paper bag. “This.” As soon as she showed them the packageTaehyung’s hands were already on it, discarding the bag and opening the box hidden inside.

“Yes!” He hummed, looking inside to see a bunch of miniature croissants with different toppings and fillings, ones YN always raved about and promised to bring over whenever she was going to visit.

“I hope you like them as much as I do.” She said smiling at the content in his eyes. As much as she hated having to pay for his meals when they ate together she also loved seeing him get excited over certain dishes and simply eat. “Just don’t eat them all in one sitting.” She cautioned him already imagining the stomach ache he would have to endure if he did that. “And leave some for your friends.” She added gesturing to Jungkook’s hungry stare.

“I won’t, noona.” He assured her quickly and closed the box.

“I have an apartment viewing in about…” She glanced at her wristwatch and noticing how late it was already she sighed slightly. “Ten minutes. I’ll buy you dinner next time.” Taehyung pouted sweetly at the sound of her words even though he knew there was no way for him to get out of the studio right now.

“You’ll have to invite us over to your new place, noona.” YN smiled warmly at Jungkook who finally spoke up again. He smiled brightly at her, showing his bunny-like teeth she adored.

“Ah, I work a lot.” She breathed out, imagining how would be hosting the entirety of BTS in a tiny studio apartment because there was no way she could afford anything more if she wanted to live close to her work in Gangnam-gu. At least not yet. “I don’t know if my schedule will allow me to do that.”

“Is that your excuse to get out of treating us?” Taehyung teased her, pulling on the sleeve of her woollen coat.

“How did you know?” She shot right back with a cheeky smirk that quickly turned into a loving smile. “Keep reminding me.” YN wrapped her arm around his back to pat it caringly. “Hopefully soon our plans will align and then I will buy both of you whatever you want.” Both boys smiled with hope glistening in their eyes at her promise.

-

“Coming!” Jungkook heard YN’s muffled voice right after he pressed on the bell. He swallowed loudly and within seconds she opened the door. Dressed in more of a laid back outfit than he was used to seeing her in - a simple t-shirt, a pair of high waisted beige pants and thinly rimmed silver glasses - she still managed to both knock the wind out of his chest and make him feel underdressed. “Hi! Oh-” Her happy expression faded into a slightly confused one. “I thought you would come over together.” She stepped to the side to let him walk past her and inside the apartment.

“Ah, didn’t Hyung tell you?” He asked, slipping his black boots off as she locked the door behind him. “He had to stay late for dance practice. He said to order without him.”

“No, Taehyung called me already.” Jungkook barely stopped himself from grinning. Taehyung’s last-minute call to YN was part of a much bigger plan. “I meant Jimin Oppa.” She clarified, leaving her keys in the lock. “I thought he would come with you.” Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows, hoping his acting skills were good enough to make his performance believable to her.

“I meant Jimin Hyung too.” He slipped off his jacket and she took it to place it on a hidden hanger in a closet behind her. “He’s still at the studio. I didn’t see Taehyunf-ie Hyung there.” He added.

“Oh. Weird. ” YN frowned in confusion. “None of them said anything in the group chat or anything. I mean Taehyung called me, but-”

“Ah, Jimin must have just forgotten.” He shrugged, playing it off. “You know how he is.”

“I guess.” She nodded before turning to face him. In the thin hallway of her apartment there couldn’t be more than forty centimetres of space between them - an amount that to Jungkook seemed like an unswimmable ocean at this moment.

“So it’s just the two of us until they decide they’ve had enough dancing for the night.” He smiled, feeling the blush creeping up onto his ears and slowly making its way onto his cheeks.

“If they decide that.” She giggled only making him feel warmer in the face.

“So, noona, will you show me around?” He asked in hopes of taking her piercing gaze off him so she didn’t notice his nervous state.

“Yes, of course.” She exclaimed, excited all of a sudden. “So where we are now is my tiny genkan.” She gestured to the small space they stood in - a lowered, tiled area, a little smaller than a square meter. “Here is my wall of closets.” She tapped on the white doors behind her, hiding tons of storage much needed in an apartment as small as this one. “Here is my tiny bathroom.” She walked to the door next to him, switching on the lights to reveal a modern bathroom - something hard to come by in buildings that weren’t newbuilds. “Please don’t mind the toilet paper stacks, I’ve had friends come over for a housewarming party last weekend.” She chuckled, pointing to the surprising amount of toilet paper stacked under the shower. From the bathroom she led him to the main space of the flat. “Here is my kitchen-living-dining-office-room combo.” The room wasn’t big, but it somehow still managed to fit a kitchenette, bar and coffee table, some shelves, and a decently sized couch. “In that nook over there is my bed, you can’t really call that a bedroom, but it’s fine and here- here is my favourite part of this whole place.” YN almost skipped to the large sliding door on the back wall of the apartment. She pulled on it and gestured for him to take a peek inside. “The sunroom!” She exclaimed happily. “It’s dark now, but believe me in the mornings it’s just breathtaking.” Jungkook smiled at the sound of the word.

“Yeah, I bet.” He murmured, glancing over the small rectangular space constructed of mostly windows where YN put up some plants and a tiny table with chairs.

“What do you think?” She asked leaning on the door frame, dangerously close to him.

Truth be told her apartment was everything he expected it to be. Small, but not cramped. Neatly decorated and clean, but not entirely perfect. It didn’t give off a vibe of being creepily overplanned as if taken out of an IKEA booklet. It felt warm and homey, but most importantly it smelled of her which he simply adored. 

“It’s nice.” He smiled, looking down at her. “Cozy. It suits you.” She batted her eyelashes, playing shy.

“Thanks.” She muttered before looking straight at him again. “You hungry already?”

“Starving.” Jungkook breathed out with a slight chuckle, letting the tension in his body loose.

“Let’s order then.” She chirped, reaching for her phone to scour the apps for something tasty.

-

Jungkook’s eyes widened, staying focused on YN’s throat while she downed almost the entirety of her glass. The two of them sat on the carpet-covered floor of her apartment, back resting against her sofa, soft music playing from a Bluetooth speaker in the background, boxes of chicken and fries on the coffee table.

“Drink slower or you’ll get in trouble.” He chuckled, licking his fingers clean from the chicken he just ate.

“This is my first beer.” She shot back, almost choking on the last sip of the fizzy beverage.

“You don’t want it to be the last.” He said in a jokingly warning tone earning an overdramatic eye roll from the girl. “Drinking fast makes you get drunk faster. It was scientifically proven that-”

“Ah, let me do what I want.” She interrupted him, laughing through her words. “If you weren’t Taehyung’s friend I would kick you out already.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” He smirked, hoping for his words to ring true and with the way she smiled at him he was almost certain they would. “Something came to my mind on my way here.” YN leaned her head against her bent leg and hummed, signalizing for him to go on. “Knowing your future is the shittiest feeling of all.”

“Yeah?” She looked up at him curiously, resting her chin on her knee now to see him better. “What’s your shitty fortune then?” Jungkook sighed, letting his head fall back onto the soft cushions of the couch behind him.

“I’ll live my life the way I am expected to.” He murmured. “I’ll show up where I’m needed. I’ll sing when people want to hear it. Dance when they want to see it.” His words carried an unimaginable weight with them. A weight YN imagined would break any other man, but not him. “I’ll get married in my late thirties or early forties, because ‘what even is an idol that’s not single?’.” He chuckled sadly. “And after all that I’ll fade away and- what?” He stopped his reasoning as the sudden sound of her muffled scoff.

“You won’t fade away.” She shook her head and straightened up. Hearing Jungkook say all of that made her heart ache. “You’re too good for that.” She patted his shoulder firmly. “Too cool.”

“You think I’m cool?” He muttered out the question so quietly it got drowned out by YN’s next argument.

“Also you have to create your fate.” She said in a stern tone that Jungkook couldn’t possibly take seriously after hearing her call him cool. “I think I heard that in one of your guys’ songs.” 

“Am I cool to you?” He repeated himself.

“Don’t interrupt me.” She scolded him, taking advantage of their age gap. “You can change your life depending on what you do, Jungkook-ah.” She looked into his deep brown eyes and seeing an unfamiliar shine in the otherwise perfect irises she decided to add one more comment to her speech. “Just don’t do anything too reckless.” She rested her hand on his shoulder for a second. “I would hate to watch you getting hurt.”

Jungkook smiled at her, sincerely, with all his heart. Her words gave him hope and courage. He breathed in sharply, showing off his bunny-like teeth in a wide smile.

“All the girls I dated- ah, it sounds like I dated a lot of girls.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “All those girls, those moments…” He continued despite knowing she must be a little taken aback by the change in topics. The two of them never talked about their romantic lives with each other for which he was grateful because if he heard of even one boy that wasn’t him hitting on YN he was sure he’d implode. “I thought that was what love feels, but in reality, it might not have been love at all.” YN frowned sadly, her eyes still on his, getting lost in their beauty. “Not true love at least.”

“What even is true love?” She scoffed, breaking eye contact. If she was going to say what she thought of just seconds ago she couldn’t be looking at him. “I’ve never been in love.” She confessed without much hesitation now that she averted her gaze.

“Never?” She simply hummed out an agreement while looking at her feet on the fuzzy rug. “I have. Actually, I still am.” YN smiled, but her gaze remained down.

“Lucky you.” Jungkook traced her movements with caution, not wanting to say too much or too little. This moment was important and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

“Yeah. There might be some luck in my situation.” He was being vague and she easily read it in his voice that he wanted her to ask him more. As new as this situation was - since she never talked to Jungkook about this kind of stuff - it also felt almost natural.

“Are you together?” He stayed silent so she decided upon explaining her question further. “With the girl that you’re in love with.”

“Ah.” He exhaled weakly, leaning his head on the couch again, but keeping his eyes on her. “Not entirely.” YN looked at his blonde hair scattered on the grey cushioning of the sofa. Later her stare travelled to his forehead, his strong eyebrows and then his deep brown eyes that contrasted so perfectly with the lightness of his hair.

“How so?” The corner of his lips tugged upwards as she took the bait he was trying to give her.

“Well, we’re not dating-” His eyelids fell slightly as his gaze went to her lips and then opened back up as it came to her eyes again. “- but we are in the same room.” YN exhaled a slight chuckle and smiled at him sweetly.

“You are a lot smoother than the last time we talked.” She admitted, still hugging onto the leg she had up to her chest. She felt oddly comfortable with his corny confession, taking it as a weak joke of some sort.

“Smooth enough to get you to agree to go on a date with me?” He asked, staying in the same relaxed position. YN shook her head slightly, looking down once more, releasing it might have not been kidding.

“I’m your noona.” She muttered under her breath. Jungkook shifted from his previous spot and shuffled to sit closer to her. At this point YN was sure he wasn’t kidding though she kind of wished for him to be.

“By less than two years.” He said sternly, sitting right in front of her, scanning her face up and down while she didn’t dare to even glance at him.

“Still, it’s-”

“It’s what?” He interrupted her at which she lifted her face, making their eyes meet. The glimmer she noticed said it all.

“Inappropriate.” She seeped through gritted teeth. YN never thought the boy could see her as anything more than his senior, his noona, his bandmates childhood best friend who bought him dinner whenever she came over.

“Pft.” Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Says who?” He asked, cocking his eyebrow.

“Everyone, Jungkook.” She declared and raised her finger at him right as he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘fuck everyone’!” He shook his head before coming up with a different comeback.

“So stop making excuses and face your feelings.” This time it was her that scoffed.

“Who says I have any feelings for you?” Jungkook felt his stomach turn. He considered getting rejected, but coming face to face with it he wasn’t prepared to take that blow.

“M- my gut.” He stuttered.

“Your gut?” She shot him a patronizing stare. Seeing that look in her eyes angered him and anger gave him a rush of courage he needed.

“Yes. Stop repeating my words.”

“Stop disrespecting your noona.”

“Stop taking advantage of our age gap.” YN sighed breaking the staring contest and brought her other leg up as if to shield herself from him. “If we were in Paris or Madrid or anywhere else you lived while you were working in Europe you wouldn’t think twice about it and you know it. If the roles were reversed and I was older it wouldn’t be a problem either.” He spoke from his heart and she knew he was right. “Why is it suddenly so important when you’re in Korea?” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to stop herself from blowing up on the poor boy. He wasn’t the one to blame for the norms generally applicable in Korea when it came to dating.

“Because of societal rules.” She uttered out quietly. Feeling the pain in her voice made Jungkook want to be close to her, wrap his arms around her and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, but he didn’t want to cross any lines so he opted for just shifting closer to her. Close enough so the sides of his thighs touched her curled up legs.

“It’s two years.” He whispered, twirling a piece of her hair between his fingers. “Barely two years.”

“To you.” YN murmured, faced away from him.

“And to you?” Her shoulders rose and fell down abruptly as she sighed deeply.

“Stop it.”

“My mom is older than my dad.” He started slowly, now stroking her arm. “By two years too.”

“Is she?” He smiled at the hopeful change in her tone.

“Yeah.” He purred. “And to make it even less socially acceptable she was the one that hit on my dad, not the other way around.” YN chuckled, sending a shiver of excitement down his back.

“So that’s where you get your determination from.” Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“You bet.” YN straightened up, pushing his hand away. With great struggle, she managed to look him in the eyes again.

“Jungkook-ah, I-”

“YN Noona, I like you. A lot.” He interrupted her as soon as their stares met. “And your age was never a factor in me coming to those feelings.”

She stayed silent for a moment after he said that, keeping eye contact and after that short while Jungkook saw her legs drop down as she came into a kneel. Her soft palms made contact with the warmth of his cheeks bringing his lips to her own. His hands instantly travelled to her waist, guiding her to sit in his lap, her legs draped to the side. She teased him by biting on his lower lip lightly, asking for him to open his mouth to her and he did, allowing her tongue to dance alongside his as if they kissed like this a million times before.

“How am I going to tell Taehyung about this?” YN asked after breaking the kiss. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, his hands caressed the bare skin of her back under her t-shirt.

“He already knows.” Jungkook smiled against her lips as he leaned forward to plant a wet peck on them.

“What?” YN looked at him wide eyed and he smiled brighter. Her gaze fell down to the space between their chests as she felt a hint of pinkish lush blossom on her cheeks.

“Did you really think both him and Jimin had to bail last minute, leaving me and you all alone?” Jungkook grazed his nose over hers in an attempt to get her to look back at him again, but it didn’t work. “I told Hyung I was going to confess to you this morning.” Her eyelashes fluttered slowly and he was able to look into her shining eyes once again. “He came up with this plan and even cheered me on.”

“Really?” YN asked in disbelief, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting them upon his shoulders. He liked it, the weight of her body on him, it made him feel strong and needed. 

“Yeah, I told him that I liked you a long time ago.” He noticed the questioning raise of her eyebrows, but kept talking as if he didn’t. “Ever since then he’s been teasing me about it, but when I spoke to him this morning he was so serious.” Jungkook rolled his head back exhaling a small laugh at the memory of the conversation he had with Taehyung earlier in the day. The small movement exposed the skin of his neck to YN and her eyes naturally travelled to the surface she never before paid much attention to, but now wanted to shower with not only kisses. “He even gave me a speech about how I can’t ever be mean to you and ruin your guys’ friendship and that I should treat you right-”

“And will you?” She tugged on his shoulders lightly, but he was faster in his reaction. He straightened up and rested his forehead against hers.

“Are you kidding me? Of course.” He spoke in a low, calm voice. “So?”

“So what?” YN smiled, running her fingers through the hair on the back of his head - a motion he already grew to love.

“Are we like a thing now?” He grinned without hiding his excitement. Jungkook wanted them to be ‘a thing’, something, anything, as long as it was him and her.

“Take me out first and then I’ll make up my mind.” She joked, keeping the same smile on her lips. Jungkook leaned forward, pulling her hips closer as their mouth crashed in a quick yet passionate kiss.

“What are we waiting for then?” He smirked into the kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” She asked, pushing his chest away so she could see him whole and make sure he wasn’t joking. 

“It’s still early.” He shrugged, bringing his hands to her upper back. “We can fit in a romantic walk by the river and I’ll treat you to a ridiculously expensive dessert after.” YN chuckled at his simple proposition. It seemed so heartfelt, so tempting. She let her hands travel mindlessly from his hair to his shoulders, then neck, jaw. She pulled him in to leave a sweet peck on his hungry lips.

“Lead the way.”

[specialagentsergio]

only if you knew

summary: Spencer’s in love with you, but you’re in love with Emily.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader (unrequited), emily prentiss x f!reader

category: angst

content warnings: description of a panic attack, mentions of bullying and homophobia, swearing

a/n: my take on a fic inspired by heather by conan grey. writing is a hobby i've had for years, but this is the first time i've posted any of it. i hope you enjoy it.

a/n 2: bi!reader, fem!reader bc emily is a lesbian

word count: 3.5k

song: heather by conan grey

series masterlist || masterlist

Spencer isn’t looking for a relationship when he meets you. He wants a relationship someday, but he likes his life the way it is for now. He doesn’t want it to change yet. He thinks that’s why it took him so long to realize he was in love with you.

You join the team a few weeks after Rossi does. Hotch has been wanting to add another profiler to the unit for a while. The fiasco with Gideon’s loss of Sarah and subsequent disappearance, then Emily’s sudden resignation, finally convinces the board that it might not be a bad idea to have more than five profilers on the team.

Morgan and Hotch already know you. You come from the sex crimes unit, and the BAU had worked a case with them a month before he joined. You were just an agent trainee at the time, but Hotch saw promise in you, and has kept an eye on your work ever since. (Spencer wonders how he never ran into you at the academy; you’re only a year older than him and you both joined the Bureau in 2003. Eventually he realizes it’s because you weren’t remediated.)

Despite an awkward introduction (he gives you his spiel about handshakes and how it’s safer to kiss, and you respond with, well, if you insist, prompting laughter from Morgan and Prentiss, and leaving him at a loss for words as his face turns red), you quickly become friends. Your mutual love of reading is how you initially connect. Then he notices you only ever cut off his infodumping when you’re working on a case, and it’s always with a gentle, “redirect, Spence.” Outside of work, you seem genuinely interested in what he has to say, even going so far as to follow up on things you had to interrupt earlier.

You also bond over your shared love of Doctor Who, and begin to join him at Penelope’s place each time a new episode airs. It’s not long before he considers you his best friend.

Spencer tells you things he rarely puts a voice to. He tells you about his kidnapping and subsequent Dilaudid problem (he still struggles to call it what he knows it was—an addiction) after the South Padre Island case, when he doesn’t pick up on Adam’s dissociative identity disorder until it’s just a bit too late.

On the one year anniversary of his solving of the Riley Jenkins case, he recounts what happened the day his dad left in a wavering voice and you run your hand up and down his back when he cries.

He even tells you about the goalpost incident and the real motivation behind that act of bullying, a detail he omitted when he told Morgan about it. (He didn’t have a crush on Alexa Lisben, the prettiest girl in school. He had a poorly concealed crush on the football team’s quarterback.)

You also open up to him in a way you seldom do to anyone. You tell him about the bullying you experienced in high school over your shared sexuality. You tell him about the worst cases you saw in the sex crimes unit, and on a day when you’re struggling, you tell him what the worst day of your life was.

He’s had great friends before, and still does, but he’s never had one quite like you.

Spencer can’t say what the moment he fell in love with you was. He can’t pinpoint when your friendship became something more to him. But he knows the moment he realized he was in love, and he doesn’t need an eidetic memory to recall it perfectly.

It’s such a small thing, nothing big and grand like film and literature portray. He’s showed up to the roundtable with a new haircut. Hotch asks him if he’s joined a boyband, which he doesn’t quite get, but Morgan finds very amusing. You catch up to him on his way out of the bullpen and say, “I liked your hair long, but it looks great like this, too.”

That’s when he knows.

The realization is like a punch to the gut, yet it’s not unpleasant. His world feels turned upside down, but upside down is looking like a fine place to be.

And you just carry on like nothing’s happened, like you haven’t just irreversibly changed his life with twelve words.

---

Spencer spends a few weeks sitting with this new information, mulling over his feelings and weighing his options.

Does he tell you he loves you? The FBI holds annual seminars discouraging fraternization between employees, but it’s mostly aimed towards preventing relationships between supervisors and their subordinates. There’s nothing in the regulations preventing two agents in the same standing from dating (which he knows because he’s read the entire handbook). A visit to HR and a form filed away makes that perfectly acceptable.

But as much as he wants to be with you, he’s terrified of losing your friendship. It’s one of the most important things in his life. If he confesses and you don’t return his feelings, it very well could ruin it. Things would never be the same between the two of you again. He can hardly tolerate the thought of that.

He has everything to lose, yet also everything to gain.

All of his speculation is operating under the assumption that you’re single, but he’s confident in that. You tell each other everything—there’s no way you wouldn’t mention seeing someone. You’ve always told him about any dates you’ve gone on in the past. And if, for some reason, you’d keep it a secret, he’s a profiler. He studies human behavior. He’d notice something going on.

Spencer finds out he’s wrong in what he thinks must be the worst possible way, because you don’t tell him yourself. He finds out you’re taken by accident.

It’s only a few weeks after JJ’s forced departure. They’ve just wrapped up a case in Connecticut, and Hotch postpones their flight home to the next morning so they can all get some solid rest after a grueling three days. Rossi offers to take them out for dinner at the hotel’s restaurant, and everyone takes him up on it.

You and Emily excuse yourselves a bit earlier than normal, but he knows he’s not the only one hurting over JJ, so he chalks it up to that. He finds himself following suit not even five minutes later when he fails to stifle his seventh yawn of the night. He steps off the elevator to the fifth floor and hears some quiet giggling from down the hall, but doesn’t think anything of it, just heads towards the room he’s sharing with Derek. It’s the door right after the one leading to the room you’re sharing with Emily, so there’s no way for him to avoid seeing what breaks his heart.

Emily has her hands on your waist as she presses your back against the door. You’re trying to scan the keycard and open the door from behind, a task you’re struggling with because she won’t stop kissing you.

Spencer freezes, his own keycard dropping from his fingers onto the plush carpet.

“Emily, Emily,” you whisper against her lips, trying and failing to suppress your laughter. “You have to let me open the door.”

“Mmm, fine,” she relents with an exaggerated sigh. She presses a kiss to your nose before taking a small step back so you can turn and scan the card.

Your eyes leave Emily’s face and land on his. You just stare at each other for a moment, unmoving.

Emily notices, of course, and asks you, “what’s wrong, baby?” before following your gaze to him.

That finally snaps Spencer out of his daze and he blurts out, “Sorry!” His voice cracks and he clears his throat as he bends down to pick his keycard back up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to, to—disturb you. I’m just, just really tired and I’m gonna go to bed now.” He keeps his eyes on the carpet as he passes by the two of you, ignoring you when you say his name.

“Reid—” Emily starts, but he’s already letting the heavy door fall shut behind him and pressing his back against it. His breathing is shaky and he grips the strap of his satchel tightly. He doesn’t bother to turn on the lights—he knows they’d be too much right now—and starts to sway from side to side in an attempt to self-soothe.

It doesn’t work, so he begins pacing across the room, back and forth and back and forth until he stumbles over Derek’s go bag and any semblance of control he had breaks. His tie feels too tight and the way his bag is thumping against his thigh as he walks is maddening. He pushes his satchel off of his body as fast as he can, then claws at the knot of his tie, pulling on it until it’s loose enough to slide off over his head. He throws it across the room.

He starts pacing again, unable to stop one of his hands from flapping as his breathing grows erratic. He trips over Derek’s bag again and kicks it in retaliation, just barely holding back a shriek of frustration and agony and panic because oh god oh god I can’t breathe it’s all too much, too much, I can’t breathe.

Spencer can’t breathe because he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, and you don’t love him back.

---

He loses time.

It happens, sometimes, when he has a shutdown.

One moment he’s pacing across the hotel room floor, trying in vain to catch his breath, and the next he’s letting out an involuntary whine when the room lights turn on. Whoever flipped the switch turns them back off immediately.

Slowly, Spencer comes back to himself.  

He’s sitting on one of the beds, hugging a pillow to his chest as he rocks back and forth. His back thumps lightly against the headboard with each motion. He can breathe again, but they’re the wobbling breathes that come after crying. He touches his face and it feels wet.

“Reid.”

It’s a whisper from across the room, and he tenses on instinct.

“Reid, it’s Morgan,” it continues, and Spencer relaxes. He recognizes his friend’s voice now. He makes a small humming noise to indicate that he’s listening.

His eyes have adjusted to the dark now and he can see the vague shape of Morgan walk forward and sit on the bed across from his. “Are you okay, kid?”

Spencer’s breath hitches as he tries to respond. “I.... no,” he whispers. He hasn’t remembered what happened yet—something else that can happen when he spirals—but he feels all hollowed out inside, like someone has scooped out everything that’s him and left behind only a deep, aching pain in their wake.

“What happened?” Morgan asks quietly.

“What happened,” Spencer repeats under his breath. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes as he thinks. What happened.  What happened, Spencer?

“You left dinner,” Morgan prompts. “You said you were tired and were going to go to bed.”

That’s right. He left the table and headed to the elevator. Got off on the fifth floor. Walked down the hallway to their room and found—

It comes back in a rush, without warning.

You’re laughing as Emily kisses you, the hand not struggling with your keycard tangled in her hair. Emily places an affectionate kiss on your nose when she pulls away. You freeze when you see him, and Emily calls you baby.

The memory takes his breath away again, and he feels hot tears falling down his cheeks.

“Reid, Reid.” Morgan’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Stay with me. You’re okay, kid. You’re okay.”

All Spencer can do is shake his head, because he’s not okay, he’s so terribly far away from okay right now.

“Tell me what happened, kid,” Morgan urges. “Then I can help you.”

Spencer lets out a humorless laugh. Can’t Morgan see that there’s nothing he can do, can’t he see that Spencer’s in a thousand pieces on the floor? “You can’t help me,” he says, his voice hoarse from countless tears he doesn’t remember shedding.

“You don’t know that. How about you tell me what’s wrong, and then I can decide?”

“No, I do know that, Morgan,” he snaps. His rational brain recognizes that he’s acting out, that Morgan doesn’t deserve his anger; he’s not who Spencer’s actually angry at. But his emotional brain is the one running the show right now, so he continues, “Did you know?”

“Did I know what?” Morgan asks calmly. He’s keeping his cool, trying to deescalate the situation, and that makes Spencer even more upset. He doesn’t want to calm down, he can’t calm down, not when his world is falling apart.

“Did you know that Emily and (Y/N) are—are fucking?” he spits out. He can’t bring himself to say that you’re in love, despite the fact that the way you were looking at Emily can’t mean anything other than that.

“I... No, I didn’t, Reid,” Morgan replies. He’s not lying, but Spencer almost wishes he was, just so he could have someone to yell at right now. “Why is that upsetting for you?”

Spencer doesn’t answer. He’d never admitted his feelings about you out loud before, not even to himself, and he sure as hell won’t do it now. He knows the moment Morgan figures it out, because he can hear him sigh.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he says. “I know how you feel.”

“Oh, right,” he scoffs. “Derek Morgan, god’s gift to women, knows how I feel right now.”

“Come on, Reid. Being able to leave a bar with someone on my arm doesn’t make me immune to the pain of liking someone who doesn’t like me back.” Derek’s voice is gentle, so much more gentle than he deserves right now, considering all Spencer’s done since he stepped foot in their room is lash out at him.

“I don’t like her, Morgan,” he says quietly. “I love her.”

Derek doesn’t say anything for a while. He doesn’t try and reassure him that he’s okay, that he’ll get over it. He doesn’t use that awful line of there’s plenty of fish in the sea. He just sits in silence with him. It’s exactly what Spencer needs. He doesn’t know how Morgan knows this when he didn’t himself.

Derek always seems to just know.

---

The morning comes before he’s ready to face it.

He wakes up to the sound of the shower running. His head hurts and his eyes feel puffy and sore. A beam of light is cutting through a gap in the curtains, landing on his face.

Spencer rolls over in bed and curls in on himself as his memories from the night before catch up to him. He stays like that, a lump under the covers, until Morgan comes out of the bathroom freshly showered.

“Hey, kid,” he says. “You awake?”

Spencer just grunts in response, unwilling to do anything that isn’t staying wrapped up in this cocoon of blankets. You’ve always called him a “Spencerrito” when he does this. He pretends to hate the nickname, but really, he finds it endearing. Now, though, it just hurts.

Any thought of you and the little things you do, the special things you do, the things that make butterflies sprout in his stomach, things that just yesterday made him feel warm inside, now make him ache all over.

“The jet’s set to take off in about an hour,” Morgan tells him. “If you don’t wanna fly, we can drive back together.”

The offer is tempting; spending an hour in close quarters with you and Emily knowing what he knows now, is not his idea of a good time. But he knows what he has to do. He’s known from the moment he saw the way you looked at Emily last night.

About a year ago, you’d come to his apartment on a Saturday night, looking truly downtrodden. You had been on a date, but it didn’t go well. “I’m scared I’ll never find someone,” you’d confided in him, your eyes filling with tears. “What if there’s no one out there for me, Spence?”

He hadn’t been sure how to answer. After all, he often felt the same way. So he’d put your favorite movie on the TV, dug some ice cream out from the back of his freezer, and stayed up late with you, watching one movie after another until you both dozed off in a tangle of limbs and blankets on his couch.

Slowly, he pushes himself into a sitting position on the hotel bed and looks at Morgan through the strands of hair hanging in his eyes. “You can’t tell her.”

Morgan raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I wasn’t going to, Reid.”

“I mean it,” Spencer insists. “(Y/N) can’t know. Emily, either. They... I don’t want to ruin this for her.”

“Hey,” Derek says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “My lips are sealed, kid. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Spencer sighs. “Thanks,” he mutters, then attempts to rub the sleep from his eyes. “An hour, you said?”

---

He sequesters himself in one of the corner seats on the jet. He gets multiple worried and confused glances from everyone, including you, but no one pushes, as his body language just about screams, “leave me alone.”

Twenty minutes into the flight, someone slides into the seat across from him and he reluctantly looks up from his book. It’s Emily, looking properly nervous, folding her hands in front of her on the table.

He’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed that it’s not you.

He is sure that he doesn’t want to be talking to Emily right now, though. She took you, she took you, she took you, she took you, runs relentlessly through his mind. He pushes the thought away, glancing down at his book and running his finger across the pages to try and keep himself calm.

“Reid,” she starts hesitantly, and he drags his eyes back up. “I know you’re mad that (Y/N) didn’t tell you about us.”

Well, you’re not wrong, he thinks bitterly. It’s just not for the reason you assume, Emily.  

“But, um, that’s not on her,” she continues. “I asked her not to. And it wasn’t just you. We didn’t tell anyone. Only Hotch knew before last night, and that’s because we had to tell him.”

“Why?” Spencer asks bluntly. He does, technically, know the answer. Emily is very private when it comes to her life outside of work. It makes sense that she wouldn’t want to go around announcing her relationship status.

But Spencer doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t understand how she can be in love and not want to shout it from the rooftops. It doesn’t make any sense to him that she wouldn’t want to show you off and introduce you as my girlfriend. He can’t comprehend how she can have you, be loved by you, and not want everyone to know it.

Emily’s slightly taken aback by his question, and she bites her lip as she considers how to answer. “I just... really prefer to keep my work and personal life as separate as possible,” is what she settles on.

“Kinda impossible to do that when you’re seeing a coworker,” Spencer shoots back, then mentally scolds himself. You said you wouldn’t ruin this for her, Spencer. Don’t ruin this for (Y/N).

Her chuckle is nervous. “Well, yeah,” she concedes. “But we make it work.”

Spencer then asks a question he doesn’t really want to know the answer to before he can stop himself. “How long?”

Emily’s eyes fall to her hands as she poorly hides a smile. “Eight months.”

Eight months. Eight months. You’ve been with Emily for eight fucking months, and you never told him, never even hinted at the fact that you were seeing someone. You kept him in the dark for eight months.

You let him fall in love with you when your heart already belonged to someone else.

He doesn’t want to be mad at you. He knows he’s not being fair. He really, honestly, wants to be happy for you, happy that you found what you’ve been searching for, but reality seems hellbent on making that as difficult for him as possible.

“Please,” Emily says, “if you’re going to be mad, be mad at me. I was the one who asked her to do this.”

He stares down at his book for a full three minutes before finally muttering, “Alright.”

He sees her shoulders slump in relief in his peripheral vision. “Thank you,” she whispers, and then she leaves.

Spencer watches her walk across the jet to the couch and sit down next to you. He looks down before you can look at him because he knows he won’t be able to handle what he’ll see in your eyes. It’ll be love in your eyes, but love that’s not directed at him.  

Emily took you from him, she took you, she took you, his mind repeats until Spencer makes the first of what’s to be many attempts to accept the truth.

Emily didn’t take you from him. You were never his to begin with. 

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

[letsfluxshitup]

we're like a family of divorce (ao3)

Techno dragged up the metal tub from his basement, setting it in front of the fire. He filled it with warm water, setting out clean warm pajamas and a towel on a chair. He laid out all the fancy soaps he had, gifts from when he first arrived.

He saved the shampoo and conditioner, setting them aside for later.

Tommy entered the house, loud and abrasive and a lot.

"What's up, Big Man?" He shouted, tugging at Techno's loose braid, poking at his tusks, forcing Techno to witness him.

He was always so high energy, demanding attention, positive or not. Techno didn't understand it but it made Tommy happy to be the center of attention, something Techno more frequently than not shied away from.

He blinked back into the present, gesturing vaguely at the tub.

"You stink." He deadpanned, and it wasn't necessarily true, but the kid needed to sit down for a second. 

He'd been high energy since he arrived, and seemed perfectly fine. But Techno knew Tommy, knew his quirks and his tells. Saw the dead look in his eyes, the way he flinched away, his fear and sadness.

Techno didn't know what happened, but he knew something did, and he needed to protect him and care for him.

So he guided Tommy towards the tub, nitpicked at him about his hair, and disappeared upstairs. 

--

"Do you need a haircut?" He called from where he was sitting in his rocking chair, glancing through a book Philza had handed him when they last met. 

It was a potions guide, and he was quietly happy that Philza had taken the time to carefully draw out visuals and diagrams, tucked into the book at relevant intervals.

He glanced towards the stairs, catching the tail end of a mumbled response.

"What?" He called, looking at the stairs so he wouldn't get distracted again.

"Are you gonna cut it?" Tommy shouted back, punctuated by a splash. Techno flinched, there was no way the kid wasn't making a mess down there.

"No." He responded, looking back towards the book. 

Quackity could cut short hair, he knew. They weren't exactly on talking terms but surely he'd set that aside to help out Tommy?

Maybe? Probably? 

It's not like Techno couldn't just make him cut Tommy's hair, but threatening him was probably not the best fix for their already rocky relationship.

"Then why'd you ask?" Tommy shouted again, "And where's the shampoo?" 

"I have the shampoo," Techno said, eyeing the bottle where it sat across from him, "and Quackity can cut your hair." 

"Quackity? Isn't he trying to kill you?" Tommy's voice sounded muffled, sloshing denoting him getting out of the tub and Techno cringed again thinking about his floor.

He wasn't sure what to say to that, actually. 

"Are you… Ok with Quackity coming by?" He asked instead, maybe it wasn't the best idea to invite someone with so much... Violent intent into his home with the kid. 

"Big Q's great! I mean, he tried to kill you and stuff but I'm not, like, scared of him. As long as you're ok, y'know?" Tommy fumbled up the stairs, hair still dripping and fluffy pajamas noticeably damp. 

Techno didn't comment on it.

"You don't have to worry about me, Tommy," he said lightly, hoping his tone conveyed comfort. 

Tommy really shouldn't have to worry about his brother's potential murderers, he was just a kid and Quackity wouldn't try to start anything if he was around.

"Anyways, I'll message Quackity, see what he says, alright?" Techno pulled out his communicator, picking at the layers of stickers on it. Tommy had helpfully redecorated it after his previous one had gotten destroyed in his execution.

Attempted execution, that is.

It didn't take much to convince Quackity to come over. It didn't take anything, actually.

Quackity? Techno typed, and almost instantly got a reply.

no

Tommy needs a haircut

fuck off

You remember how to get here?

yes

--

"Well? Where's Tommy?" Quackity huffed, shivering as he rubbed his arms. He should have worn a heavier coat but he didn't have any because he didn't live in the middle of the fucking Arctic.

"Big Q!" Tommy shouted as if on cue, barreling down the stairs at full speed. Quackity's wings flared out to steady him as he caught Tommy, squeezing him tightly.

He didn't say anything about Tommy's clinginess, chalking it up to the exile and the only other source of comfort around being Technoblade.

Fucker probably didn't even hug Tommy.

He was almost instantly proven wrong when Techno cleared his throat slightly, the hug lasting a second too long, and Tommy disappeared from his arms and tucked himself under Techno's.

He firmly reminded himself it was stupid to be jealous of Techno's little brother, but also he was really fucking cold and he knew Techno was really fucking warm.

"So!" He hoisted his bag, "You need a haircut?"

--

It took some finagling but he finally got Tommy to sit in front of the sink properly, and went to work on washing his post haircut hair.

The water was a soothing backdrop as Quackity lathered shampoo into his hair, absently asking Techno for a hairbrush.

Tommy was quietly amazed at how easily Quackity bossed Techno around, his brother instantly responding to any command.

He'd successfully bullied Techno into handing over one of his capes, at Quackity's insistence that it was fucking cold. Techno was now tending to the fire at Quackity's request, and it seemed almost natural.

He knew Techno was more than happy to help the people he cared about, but he'd never really considered that Techno cared about Quackity.

"Are you and Quackity broken up or something?" Tommy blurted out without thinking, interrupting Quackity's soft chirping.

Quackity made a choking noise before accidentally dumping water on Tommy's face, sending him into a fit of painful coughing as it went up his nose.

"Sorry, Toms," Quackity cooed, carefully running his fingers through Tommy's wet hair.

"Is fixing people's hair like a bird thing or some shit?" Tommy asked, leaning into Quackity's hands, "Philza does the same thing and he's like a bird." 

"Yeah, kind of. I think so." Quackity stuttered slightly, straightening Tommy's pajama shirt and dabbing away the spilled water on his face with a towel.

Tommy's face scrunched up in concentration for a second, before he let out something that sounded pretty close to a happy coo.

Quackity cooed too, and they cooed back and forth. Techno couldn't help his pleased snort, happy they were getting along and safe and content.

Tommy's head snapped towards him, instantly reciprocating the snort, and while still unnatural for him he managed to replicate it a lot better than the coo.

Techno watched, vaguely amused, as Tommy nudged his head against Quackity's chest. Growing up around hybrids gave him a weird mix of behaviors, but Quackity was quick to catch on, and he lightly nudged Tommy back.

--

As Techno set up for dinner Quackity and Tommy sat at the table, heckling him and generally being a nuisance.

"You're burning the fucking bread!" Tommy shouted, far too loud in the small space, but his energy seemed slightly more subdued. Less manic, more... Genuine.

Techno rolled his eyes, tugging open the oven door.

"No, see, look it's fine." He squinted at the bread. It did look a little too brown around the edges but he definitely wouldn't tell Tommy that.

Instead, he reached into the oven and grabbed the bread pan with his bare hands, smirking slightly at twin panicked shrieks from behind him.

"Techno what the fuck! You're going to burn your fucking hands, dumbass!" Quackity appeared in front of him, snatching his hands to check the damages after Techno set the pan down.

Quackity blinked at his unharmed hand in confusion, wings settling from where they'd flared in his panic.

"What's the diagnosis, doc?" Techno deadpanned, prompting Quackity to look up. 

They were nearly nose to nose and Quackity was staring directly into his eyes. He shifted slightly, uncomfortable, but didn't look away.

"Are you two going to kiss?" 

Trust Tommy to ruin the peace, Techno thought as Quackity shrieked.

"No we're not going to fucking kiss!" 

--

Quackity was leaning against the arm of the couch, Techno sat on the other side, Tommy flopped across the two of them, trapping them.

"So, you're in exile, right, Techno?" Tommy said, lifting his head slightly from Quackity's lap.

"Yes," Techno sighed, shifting slightly under Tommy's bony legs.

"Huh." Tommy said, before saying more quietly, "I like exile with you a lot more than when I was with Dream." 

Techno tried not to let his expression shift, he'd picked up bits and pieces of his exile but nothing concrete. He still didn't know what happened.

"Oh?" Techno said, voice carefully even.

"Yeah." Tommy responded, tilting his head away from Quackity to stare at the fire. "He- I- he wasn't as nice as you are, y'know?"

Techno didn't, didn't think he'd been doing a good job of taking care of him, but he nodded anyways.

"He..." Tommy sniffled suddenly, furiously scrubbing at his eyes.

Quackity quietly ran his fingers through Tommy's hair, a comforting croon soft in the air.

"He was a real dick, y'know?" Tommy said, desperately high energy, like he could forcibly will away his bad feelings. His voice gave him away, though, thick with tears.

"Tommy?" Techno said, voice soft, "what happened in exile?"

And Tommy broke.

He flung himself into Techno's arms, burying himself in his arms, as he babbled about what had happened, incoherent and a mess.

Quackity tucked himself against Techno's side, curling his arm around Tommy's back and stretching a wing out to cover them both. He pressed himself close, face carefully neutral, but Techno noticed. 

Noticed the twitch of his eye, the tension in his shoulders, how he barely held back a snarl.

Finally, Tommy cried himself out, face tucked into Techno's neck as he fell asleep. Techno carefully scooped him up, Quackity a step behind him as he walked up the stairs and laid Tommy in the bed. 

He tossed Quackity a pair of pajamas, and before he could turn away to change into his own Quackity grabbed his arm.

There was a long moment of silence as they stared at each other, dying fire throwing Quackity's features into sharp relief, fury evident.

"You'll help me take down Dream?" Quackity said finally, leaning closer. 

"I owe him," Techno warned, voice soft as he studied Quackity's face. 

Quackity blinked, then leaned ever closer, noses touching this time.

"When it comes down to it, no matter what Dream says or asks for, you'll be on my side? On Tommy's?" 

Techno sighed, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

"When you put it that way, how can I say no," he deadpanned, arms coming up to wrap around Quackity's waist, comforting and solid.

Quackity snorted, holding up a pinky.

"Pinky promise?" He murmured, and Techno linked pinkies with him, foreheads pressed together, swaying slightly in place.

"Are you two actually going to kiss now?" Tommy whispered loudly, voice slurred with sleep.

Quackity jerked away, startled, as Techno snorted loudly.

Tension dispersed Techno quickly got ready for bed, putting out the fire and flopping onto the side closest to the stairs. Quackity was forced against the wall, Tommy sandwiched between them. 

Techno fell asleep with Tommy's head tucked into his neck, his arm thrown across Techno and his gangly legs sprawled across Quackity.