#or he's more the assistant coach because he was told to take it easy a million times but still wanted to be involved

[ur-fav-alien]

Okay so I watched ep.4 of s4 "Dear Billy" and I have thoughts... specifically thoughts about what would go down in the series if Billy was alive.

So I think it would be kinda obvious that he would be in Max's spot with the whole getting Vecna'd thing (Max would still be alive obvio Billy is just built different and survives the Mind Flayer). Then that whole Dear Billy scene happend and I started thinking even more of how it would go down if Billy was in Max's place. Obviously the letter would be to his mom, because why would it be for Neil? But then comes the question, where would Billy go to read this letter? If his mom is dead why would there be a grave in Hawkins for her, that doesn't make sense. So imagine they're all driving and Billy randomly says "turn here" and everyone is like "that's the woods?" and he knows that's the woods and he stil makes them turn there.

Insert Billy walking into this small clearing in the woods where he's made a makeshift grave for his mother because he has absolutly no idea where the fuck she is and for all he knows, she could be dead. WHICH IS SO FUCKING SAD. And then I started thinking about that scene between Vecna!Billy + Max and how he's saying Max feels guilty that she's glad that Billy's dead and like with Billy what if it's Vecna posing as Billy's mom and just kinda of berating him about what he's turned into due his father's abuse like: "Billy... my sweet Billy, what have you turned into? I don't even know who you are anymore... you look so much like your father... Billy I'm scared of you" And Billy is just sobbing

I would cry. I would cry like a shit ton.

[starzioo]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓. 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘.

Hiii! This is a DracoxFem!Reader one-shot! In this story you are a ballerina. I saw this post of the Slytherin boys x a ballerina and I could just imagine Draco being absolutely in love with her. So here it is I hope you like!

WARNINGS: NONE <3

You sit on the stage of the Royal Opera House in London. Tightly wrapping the dusty pink ribbons around your ankles. Today was your rehearsal day for the production of The Nutcracker. You had been casted as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Most people would take this role as being easy and simple. But oh no, they would be terribly wrong. The movements you made had to be fluid and effortless, while also being regal. You sigh before standing back up and fixing your rehearsal tutu. You head over to your starting mark and give the signal to the director to start the music.

=

DRACO POV

I get out of the muggle-car behind my father. 'Muggles really think that this is the peak of transportation?' I think to myself as I look back at the black car behind me. "Good morning Mr. Malfoy. It's a pleasure to have you here again! Mr. Evan's is in a meeting right now and told me to tell you that he'll meet with you as soon as possible." A woman who I assume is Mr. Evan's assistant spoke to my father. "M'Alright." My father says obviously annoyed with the muggles tardiness. "Right this way then." The woman says with her smile not faltering. She walks a couple paces ahead of my father while I linger behind him. We step inside of the building. The interior looks to be made for royals. The architecture being elegant. She leads us down a couple hallways before stopping at a big door. "You may sit and wait here. Mr. Evan's will be here shortly. If you would like any refreshments or if you have any questions just head down the hallway and my desk is right there." My father only nods in response. She flashes her smile once more before heading down the hallway. Me and my father sit down on the waiting chairs. "Why are we here? Better question why am I here?" I turn and ask my father who's reading a muggle newspaper. He doesn't even look at me, "Because Draco. We are here on important business. It's about time you start learning what lies ahead for you." His tone still cold as ever. I can't even speak back, I know i'll be silenced. All I can do is huff. I stand up and just walk the opposite direction of him. I don't hate my father but sometimes I just can't stand how he seems to have my entire future in the palm of his hand.

Walking down the large hallway I can start to hear the elegant music that I can only recognize as music from The Nutcracker. When I was little my mother used to take me to a muggle theater around Christmas time. Although my father urged that we don't celebrate muggle holidays. She would always sneak us out and take me to see the Nutcracker. Not only did she love ballet but I loved to see the story play out through the graceful dancing. Of course as I grew older the tradition stopped but I never forgot.

I continue down the hallway and I can hear the music growing louder. I turn one more corner to see a double door way with a sign above the entrance that says 'MAIN THEATER' in gold lettering. The doors were slightly cracked open. I slightly peek into the theater to see a girl dancing on the stage doing the sugar plum fairies variation. I quietly slip into the room and sit down in the farthest back row to watch.

Y/N POV:

I had already rehearsed my routine twice but my director kept critiquing every little thing I did. I mean of course that's his job but I swear he was acting as if everything I did was wrong. I was in the in the middle of my third pirouette when my coach suddenly stood up and started walking to the back of the theater. I continued my pirouettes until I heard my coach speak. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he ushered someone who was sitting in the back of the theater out of the room. The man stood and I caught a glimpse of him. He was tall and had icy blonde hair. I paused my variation and stood to watch. The blonde man then spoke, "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no clue." He said before then exiting the theater. My manager turned back around after closing the doors to the theater. "Alright Y/n from the top!" He said as he gave the tech people the signal to restart the music. I didn't complain. I rushed back to my starting mark and started my routine from the beginning.

DRACO POV:

As I sat in the back row I admired the ballerina on stage. Her movements were so elegant, mesmerizing even. With every turn and step she took her tutu bounced. Her arms stretched out with grace. I'm instantly snapped out of my daze when an official looking man comes up to me. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he turned to open the door for me. "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no idea." I said as I stood from my seat. I walked to the door and took once last glance at the ballerina.

Y/N POV:

After the man had left the theater I ran through my routine nearly a half a dozen more times. Each time my coach giving me more pointers and critiques. As the music stopped and I finished my last variation my coach stood from his seat, "Y/n you need to keep your back straight and your knees pointed on that last part!" My coach shouted clearly tired of me not being able to perfect my solo. I just huffed and wiped my forehead with the back of my wrist. "Can I go get some water?" I said with my hands on my hips. My director sighed, "Yeah, be back in five." He said as he wrote something down on his clipboard. I hurriedly sped walked down the stairs that were on the far end of the stage and headed towards the theater entrance. I took a turn then walked down the long hallway. I stop at the end of the hallway when I see that man who got kicked out of the theater and another man who has long icy blonde hair, they're both sitting down on the waiting chairs outside Mr. Evan's office. I shake my head of any curiosity about the two and hurriedly walk past them to go to Adeline's desk. I notice the short haired boy look up at me as I walked but I continued. "Hey Adeline, could you please get me a water?" I asked to the woman. "Yeah just give me a second." She said with her usual smile, as she stood and went to another room. A couple seconds later she reappeared and had a water bottle in hand. The water bottle had a custom logo on it that said The Royal Opera House in gold letters on a dark red paper. "Thank you Ade, I'll most likely be back soon." I said as I turned around while simultaneously taking a drink of my water. As I turned I practically bump straight into a brick wall.

But it wasn't a wall it was that same blonde boy. And I had now just spilt water all over him. "Oh, i'm sorry! That was my bad!" I said frantically as I tried to wipe the water off of his black button down. "No, no, no, don't worry about it." He said laughing lightly as he grabbed hand to calm me, after a few seconds you let go. "I was just coming to compliment you. I saw you back in the theater and your dancing was truly beautiful." He said as his ice blue eyes practically pierced yours. "Oh...thank you." —I laughed softly—"But my director would say other wise." I said as I began to walk past him, I turned back around to look at him once more to find him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Well it's basically his job to tell me what I'm doing wrong, but it feels impossible to get my routine perfect." I sighed. "Well...regardless of what that oaf thinks I think you dance nothing short of perfection." He said slightly playfully. I let out a small laugh. "Well, I've got to get back to rehearsing. It was nice meeting you...?" I questioned having never learned his name. "Draco." "Draco?" "Draco." He confirmed. "Well it was nice meeting you Draco." I said nodding my head before turning to go back to the theater. "Wait what's your name?" He calls out to me as I was walking away. I turned around once more then gestured to a poster on the wall, then finally walked away.

As I gestured to the poster Draco immediately examined it. It was a picture of you in your sugar plum fairy costume and a title below it. It said, 'Y/n L/n as The Sugar Plum Fairy' Draco let out an airy laugh as he admired the poster when Lucius appeared behind him. "Draco I would like to not have to come look for you as if you were a lost puppy. Mr.Evan's is ready to see us now." He said coldly then turned Draco following behind.

=

You had went back to the theater thoughts of Draco lingering in the back of your head. Draco had went to sit in on the meeting between Lucius and Mr. Evan's. To Lucius that meeting was very important to the future of his shares in the theater, but to Draco it was merely an hour wasted listening to rubbish. You had finally wrapped up your rehearsals for the day and it was time for you to go get food and go home.

DRACO POV:

"Draco you can sit outside while me and Mr. Evan's wrap this up. Don't wander." Lucius spat. I didn't respond he simply just got up and left the room. I sat outside on the chairs until I heard a voice. "Yeah, I'll see you on Thursday?" She said as she walked out of the theater. There she was, Y/n. All of my attention was on her. She was no longer wearing the tutu and leotard. She was now wearing a baby pink off the shoulder knit sweater with grey flared leggings. She has a white knit scarf around her neck and she carried grey bag, what I assume was her ballet stuff. Her hair was in a low bun making her headphones she had in visible.

     When she turned to walk out she paused when she saw me. "Hey, you're still here?" She said softly as she walked up to me while taking out her headphone. "Yeah, i'm just waiting for my father and Mr. Evan's to get out of their meeting." "Well, I could wait with you?" She said as she rocked back and forth on her feet. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind." She sat down next to me setting her bag on her side. "So why are you here? To see Mr.Evans I mean." She said as she looked up at me. "Well I wouldn't say that i'm here to see him. My father is.  Something that has to do with his shares. I honestly don't know. The only thing i've gotten out of coming here was seeing you dance." I laughed a little, and so did she. "I didn't know I was that good." She smiled. "Whatever your director was yelling at you, he truly is wrong. I thought you danced perfect." I said avoiding eye contact with her. I could see her out of the corner of my eye just staring up at me. "Why thank you good sir. I'm glad you liked it." She giggled. "Have you ever seen The Nutcracker?" "Yeah, quite a few times actually." "Oh. Would you like to see it again maybe?" She asked this time not peering up at me, but now fiddling with the loose ends of her scarf. "When?" She stop and looked back up at me. "Uhmm,—she hummed— Opening night would be December 10th, I could get you tickets if you would like?" "Yeah, yeah, although I don't know when I'll see you again?" I asked. She laughing softly, "I guess whenever you want to see me again." She smiled.

DECEMBER TENTH

DRACO POV

Today was the day, the day I get to see her again. I don't know why I'm so...entranced? By her. Something about her just makes me fascinated. Ever since last week she's all I could think about. Of course in order to be able to go see the show I told my parents some bullshit excuse. My father would never let me go to London by myself, especially just so I could go see the ballet. Not only that a muggle girl.

I had made my way to the theatre early so I would be able to avoid all the people there for opening night. I stepped out of the taxi, it was cold the winter air crisp. I entered the building and walked up to the concierge. "One ticket for The Nutcracker, please." I said slightly rubbing my hands together trying to warm them. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid we are all sold out for the night." He said with pity. "What? No, I have to see the show tonight." "Like I said, I'm sorry. But I can sell you a ticket for-" "Oh! Mr. Malfoy I wasn't expecting you so early!" The concierge was interrupted by no other than Adeline. "You were expecting me?" I turned to her. "Well yes? I expected that Ms. L/n made you aware of your visit?" She said with her usual smile. "Well yeah, but- you know what never mind. Why were you expecting me?" "Of course, because she was very adamant that you got the best seat in the house!" She said ushering me down the hall, then to an elevator.

The classical music played lightly in the elevator, the ride up two floors wasn't awkward, it was actually quite pleasant. This was an elevator ride I had been on countless times before, it was nostalgic in a way. The elevator dinged before the large metal doors opened. We were on The Donald Gordon Grand Tier. It was technically the third floor of the theater. She led me to row A which was in the very middle and front. "Ms. L/n was very insisting that you get this specific seat sir. She said it was the best seat in the house and you deserve nothing less!" I stood there for a moment and blinked at the seats in front of me. That feeling of nostalgia had now been explained. I was sitting in the exact same seat my mother would always sit in when we would come to the theater. "Mr. Malfoy, are you okay?" Adeline broke my trance. "Thank you Adeline, for everything." I thanked her as I sat down. "No problem! Feel free to come down to my desk if you need anything!" She smiled before walking away.

I sat there for maybe 30 minutes before hundreds of people started sitting in the theater. Of course by courtesy of Adeline I was able to avoid the crowd. After about another 30 minutes the lights in the theater had dimmed. That's when I heard the oh so familiar tune to the mystical music. There was something about the story of The Nutcracker that always fascinated me. Maybe it was the playful but yet elegant dances that were done. They were so complex but yet so smooth and graceful. Or perhaps it was the fact that I was able to watch a story come to life in front of my very eyes. As I watched the ballet I found myself the same way I was many years ago. Only blinking every few minutes to be sure I didn't miss any parts of the show. My mind fully clear, only focusing on the ballet dancers below. I was entranced by the story all over again.

Now, we were in act II. After Clara and the Prince have slayed the Mouse King, the snowflakes have led them to the Kingdom of Sweets. As the enchanting music transitioned to a more sweet sounding melody it hit me. She was going to be dancing soon. Clara and the Prince arrived to the gates of Kingdom of Sweets. The Sugar Plum Fairy reigns over the Kingdom of Sweets. I sat up in my chair. Then there she was, graceful as ever tip-toing across stage. Her costume was beautiful a light pink bodice and tutu with gold accents. Her hair was elegant and she wore a gold tiara. She was covered in glitter, but what shined the most was her eyes. She was so passionate in the way she danced. Her moves were liquid smooth enchanting the audience. She placed a tiara on Clara's head then commenced a day of festivities in honor of Clara saving the Prince from the mouse king. First came the Chocolate from Spain, then the Arabian Coffee, the Chinese tea, and lastly the sweet French Marzipan.

But then the flowers came, and they preformed a great waltz. The Sugar Plum Fairy came back with her cavalier and did a mesmerizing duet. Although they were doing a duet me and the whole audience could only look at one of them. Her. She danced with a great passion. Not that he didn't. There was just something about her that made you believe that she was born to be on that stage. Born to shine. Even with the light shining down on her, she was the light. Soon after she and her cavalier finished their dance Clara is guided back home. She tosses and turns in her sleep, she wakes up to find out it was a dream? A fantasy. Nothing more.

And Suddenly I was pulled into reality. The audience erupted in roars. Not one person in that theater wasn't clapping. Roses were being thrown onto stage by people sitting on the lower floors. The people around me whistling and cheering. I quickly stood up and headed down to Adeline's desk. "Excuse me, Adeline. I had a delivery made here, did it arrive yet?" I said as I leaned on her desk. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Just wait one second while I go grab it. She disappeared into a room before coming out with the custom bouquet I had delivered. Freshly picked Frutteto's. The baby pink roses were dusted with gold glitter, they were perfect. "She's gonna love them you know?" Adeline asked snapping me out of my trance. "Yeah...yeah, I know. Do you know when she'll be out?" "I'd say maybe 30 minutes? In the mean while you're more than welcome to wait here." She said as she sat back down at her desk and started flipping through a book.

I sat there for what seemed like forever. I inspected every flower to make sure they were nothing short of perfection. Just as I was picking off a petal that was too pink to fit in with the rest I saw her. She was already on her way out of the glass doors. I quickly rushed after her, "Y/n, wait!" I yelled after her as I caught up. She turned around her nose being a light shade of pink from the brisk winter air, the soft snowflakes landing in her hair. "Draco, you came? I didn't see you come in before the show?" "I got here early, don't worry I watched the whole show. You were...amazing. Oh, I got you these." I quickly handed her the bouquet, "They're beautiful." Her face lit up, "Perfect, they're perfect." She cradled them in one arm while the other fiddled with the petals. "Thank you." She said with that sweet smile of hers. "My pleasure, I knew you'd like them." I really didn't, I was actually terrified she wouldn't like them. "Hey...would you maybe..." Her eyes glistened in the street lights as she looked up from the flowers, "...would you maybe like to go to dinner with me?" I was a bit taken aback by the sudden question. I paused, "Yeah, I would love to. But it's my treat." "You don't have to i'm the one who invited you." She said lightly laughing. "Well, I would like to treat you after your amazing performance tonight. Where do you wanna eat?" "I know a great place! It's called Bancone, it's an italian place, is that okay?" "Whatever you want is fine with me." I smile. "Okay, uhh, hold on let me call a cab!" She turned and walked to the road. She hailed us a cab.

We both sat in the back of the cab, watching the snow glitter down from the sky. "How far is the restaurant?" I asked turning to her. When I looked at her she was simply smiling down at her flowers. "Oh, we should be there any minute! Actually we're here! Thank you!" She said as she scooted out of the cab. I paid the driver then got out. I was surprised to find she took my hand and led me inside.

We stepped inside and I was taken aback by the olive tree that was planted in the middle of the restaurant. The interior was classy but casual. "Hi! Welcome in! Table for two?" A hostess came up to us. "Yeah, uhm, could we be seated at a window table?" She asked as she dusted off the small pieces of snow she had in her hair. "Of course! Right this way!" The hostess led us to a table in the front of the restaurant. I pulled out her chair for her, "Why thank you good sir." She softly laughed. I sat down. "Can I get you started with any drinks, or would you like a minute?" "Could we get a bottle of the house red? And then I would just like a glass of water." She asked the hostess. "Great choice, and as for you sir?" "I would just like a glass of water, thank you." She handed us our menus then walked away. "What do you think you're gonna get?" I looked up from my menu. "For sure the bucatini, i've been craving it all day." I laugh lightly, "I don't know what I want" I said as I studied the menu, "What do you think?" I looked up at her to find her already looking at me. "I personally think you'll like the duck ragú, I had it last time I came and it was heavenly." She laughed. "Okay I guess it's settled then, wait what about dessert?" "Oo! They have these cannolis! They're covered in hazelnuts you have to try them." Just then a waitress came to the table, "Here is your house red, and waters." She said as she set down our water and presented the bottle.

She opened the bottle with a pop, then filled our glasses. "Thank you" we both said nearly in unison. "Are you ready to order your entrees, or would you like another minute?" "We're ready. I'll have the bucatini and as for dessert we'll do two orders of the hazelnut cannolis." She said as she handed the waitress her menu. "Sure thing! And as for you sir?" She turned to me, "I'll have the duck ragú, that'll be all, thank you." I handed her my menu. "Okay, i'll be back with your food shortly." She smiled then walked away to another table. "You know what I realized?" Y/n said as she twirled the wine in her glass. "What?" "I barely know anything about you, but yet here I am at dinner with you." She tilted her head slightly. "Well, I don't know anything about you either." I laughed, "What do you wanna know?" "Anything! But skip the basic things, I just really wanna know you" She took a sip of her wine. What was I supposed to tell her? That i'm a wizard and that I went to a school to learn sorcery? "I honestly don't know where to start? Just ask me anything, anything." "Mmm, what's your favorite childhood memory?" She said as she took off her scarf.

I took a breath "I would have to say...probably going to see The Nutcracker with my mother." I laughed, she looked up at me curiously. "Ironic isn't it." "Very." "See my father isn't big on...fun. Or anything really. So every year my mother would sneak us out of the house and we would go see the show. As I got older the whole tradition kind of just...stopped. But you know what's crazy?" "Hm?" "The seat that you picked out for me, was the exact same seat my mum would sit in when we would go." She looked at me like I was crazy. "She always said 'it was the best seat in the house' the whole thing felt like a dream." "That's...just...wow. That's a big coincidence huh?" "I know huh, I was so confused. But what about you? What's your favorite memory?" "My grandmother she was absolutely amazing when it came to playing piano. As a little girl she would play the Swan Lake piano arrangement while I danced. We would do this for hours and hours till my mother told us to take a break. I've always loved ballet. What I would give to re-live those memories." She looked out the window and played with the hem of her sleeves as she spoke. "That's...beautiful. So you've been dancing since you were young?" "Yeah, kinda like you my mother took me to see the ballet when I was little. But instead we saw Sleeping Beauty. I was absolutely fascinated by it. For weeks I begged my mother to put me in classes, I guess she just got annoyed of my constant begging and just gave in." She laughed softly. "Well it definitely paid off." I smiled.

We got to know each other all night long. Even though we had already finished our food long ago, we sat there and just talked. About everything. She was just so captivating. Every detail about her was intriguing. Each one of her stories just led me to wanting to know more about her. The way her eyes sparkled a little when she would talk about something she was passionate about. All of her was just perfect. I told her a lot about myself. Maybe more than I should've. Everything about me surrounded the one thing I couldn't tell her. Most of the stories I told her had gaps but I don't think she caught on. I felt almost...bad? For not being able to tell her what could possibly be the biggest detail about me. But seriously how do you just tell someone that. 'Oh yeah, by the way i'm a wizard. And there's millions of other wizards around the world.' And plus even if I wanted to tell her I couldn't. And it was killing me.

We stayed at the restaurant until the waitress told us they were closing soon. "I guess we should get going huh?" She asked as she lightly laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." I slightly frowned. I paid the bill, then we left. We stood on the side walk as the snow continued to fall from the dark sky. Street lamps lit the road, illuminating it with golden rays. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and carried her flowers with both hands. "Could I have your number by the way?" She asked. "Oh, yeah. Here just put your number in and i'll text you later." I handed her my cell. I got a muggle cell phone, specifically for this reason. My father would never approve of me having a device like that. But for her it was worth whatever trouble it could cause. In all reality the reason I asked her to put her number in my cell was because I had no clue how. "Okay, there." She smiled as she handed me back my phone. I looked down, Y/n xx , is what she put as her contact. "I should get going now, I have to be back at the theater early tomorrow." She said as she fiddled with her flowers. I took a breath, "Okay, tonight was really great. When can I see you again?" "Like I said, whenever you want." She smiled, I laughed. She turned out to the road and hailed a cab. "Goodnight!" She yelled out to me before turning back to the cab, she paused, then turned around back to me and ran back to me. She gave me a kiss on my cheek and then a small hug, "Goodnight." "Goodnight." I said a bit surprised. She ran back to the cab and got in. I watched the car disappear down the road, out of sight.

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Mwah I hope you liked! If you did make sure to reblog and leave a note! <3

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Eight I Foolish One

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: Angst babes, just angst

A/N: Didn't want to make yall wait too long. AHHAHA

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

If I thought that I had been avoiding Jamie before, I was altogether ignoring him now. I tried not to let me emotions get in the way of things between us being friends, but I really couldn’t stand to be near him right now. I avoided him for the rest of the funeral, didn’t even say goodbye. Luckily for me we were given an extra day off where I was able to get some distance from him.  

I stopped going to the pitch in the morning, opting instead to stay after training in order to avoid Jamie. I avoided the locker room, hanging out with Keely or Rebecca for as long as I could before sneaking into my corner of the coach’s office as quietly as possible. Luckily, most of the attention was on Doctor Sharon leaving, and the upcoming game at Brantford.

That and Edwin Akufo’s sudden appearance at the club that really shook things up. I hated not being around Jamie. He made me feel better about myself, just being around him lifted my spirits. But now, just thinking about him made my heart hurt like the ache I felt when his dad showed up in Man City. I was heading to meet Rebecca for lunch when he finally caught me in the hallway.

            “(Y/N),” He called after me. “Wait up a second, would ya?”

I froze in my place, knowing that I couldn’t very well just avoid him. I let him jog up next to me and turned to face him.

            “Hi, Jamie,” I greeted smally. He stared for a second, waiting for anything from me but I was not giving it.

            “Yeah, well, I just missed ya this morning,” he told me, his hands going into his pockets. “And I just feel like I haven’t heard from you much recently.”

I looked down, not able to meet his gaze. “Yeah…”

Again, I didn’t elaborate. Jamie furrowed his brows, a frown etching its way onto his face.  We stood, facing each other in a more-so-uncomfortable silence.

            “Anyways, I should go, Rebecca is waiting for me.” I started to walk off.

            “Uh, okay? See you around?” He called after me.

I didn’t respond as I walked up the stairs to Rebecca’s office. When he was finally out of earshot, I let out a large breath. That was probably the worst conversation I have ever had in my life. I knocked on Rebecca’s door waiting for her reply before walking in. She was sat on the couch, munching on Ted’s cookies as she always did come lunch.

            “Welcome, welcome!” She greeted, patting on the set next to her. “Come sit” I gave her a grateful look and slumped down on the couch. “Woah, that was a heated plop. C’mon out with it. What’s going on?”

            “How do you know anything’s going on? Maybe, I’m just in a ploppy mood!” I defended myself. Rebecca stared at me. “Okay, fine.” I sat up and scooched, so I was sitting on the edge of the couch. “So, at the funeral I was going to tell Jamie how I felt. I know!” I held up a hand, silencing her. “Bad setting but I was overly emotional. Anyways, I was on my way to tell him when I overheard him telling Keely that he still loved her.” A sympathetic gaze overtook Rebecca’s expression. “Yeah. And now I can’t be around him without being… sad… so I’m trying to give us space. But I just miss him so much!”

            “I understand how you feel,” Rebecca admitted. “I told Sam that I wanted to take a break at the funeral.” I gasped in surprise. “But now, with this whole Edwin Akufo situation, I feel so… BLAGH!”

I leaned over to rest my head on her shoulder. “Well, aren’t we a couple of heartbroken idiots.”

She hummed in agreement before looking down at me. “The worst part about it is that I don’t want to tell Keely because-“

            “Because she has her vanity fair thing! Exactly!” I shot up, excited to have someone who understood the predicament.  

            “Exactly,” Rebecca punctuated. She reached over and picked up her box of cookies and held the box out for me. “Here, you deserve one as much as I do.”

I looked at her like she was offering me the cure to cancer. These cookies were legendary, and she was just offering one up to me like it was nothing? I took one out of the box gingerly.

            “Thank you, Rebecca,” I praised, bowing my head slightly. “I shall treasure this always.”

We giggled to ourselves for a moment whilst I chowed down on my cookie. Rebecca kept glancing over at me though, like she was thinking something but didn’t want to say anything.

            “What?” I pressed, popping the last bit of the cookie in my mouth. “You have that look.”

            “What look?”

            “That ‘I have advice’ look! So, out with it!”

Rebecca scoffed and adjusted herself. “I just… I just think you should still tell Jamie how you feel.”

            “Are you joking?” I asked, incredulous. “I think that is the worst possible thing I could do right now.”

            “Well! I’m just saying. Are you planning on ignoring him for the rest of your life?” She pointed out. I shrugged, slumping back down again. “Well… then I think the only option is to talk to him!”

She was right. I knew she was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to do. To tell Jamie how I felt would be excruciating, especially when I knew he didn’t like me back. But I didn’t want to go forever without seeing him again and the best way back would be to tell him what was going on.

That’s how I found myself standing on the pitch the next morning. I wondered if Jamie would show up today or if he was done trying to find me. I kicked the ball lamely in around, thinking over exactly the speech I had thought of to tell him. Nothing heartfelt, nothing to get my emotions running high. Just ‘I liked you, you don’t like me, let’s move on’.

But then, there he was, walking towards me. He was smiling, like he was excited to see me. And everything that I had planned was flying out my ear. My brain was empty. No thoughts, just Jamie.

            “(Y/N)!” He exclaimed as he got closer to me. “I was afraid you’d gotten scared off. Too impressed by my raw skills.” He laughed but I found myself unable to move. “Is everything alright?” Again, I found myself unable to speak. I opened my mouth and realized how hard I was breathing. “What’s going-“

            “Do you know how much I wanted to hate you?” I blurted out finally. He looked taken aback by my comment. “Like I really wanted to hate you. You were so talented, and young. Just like me. Except you got everything you wanted while I was sidelined. The second I finished university no one cared about me anymore.” Jamie’s faces scrunched up as he tried to understand what I was saying. “And at first, you made it really easy to hate you. You were such a dick.” I chuckled and Jamie let himself laugh a bit as well but then my laughter died. “But then you went and… became a good person.” The laugh left Jamie’s eyes. “You became thoughtful, and considerate and just as bloody talented as well.”

            “What are you going on about?”

            “Let me finish!” I snapped, harsher than I meant to. I cringed at my voice and brought a hand up to rub my forehead “Sorry, just… just let me finish. You became a good person, Jamie. Someone I liked being around. And Jamie I… I like you.” I swallowed hard, trying to gage his reaction. At first, he looked confused, then his confusion turned to realization, then to confusion again. “I really really like you. You made me feel comfortable and special. And I thought, after the bus and the club that maybe you liked me too?” It wasn’t a question, even though I posed it as such. “But then I overheard you talking to Keely, at the funeral, and I know you don’t which is okay. You don’t have to.” I felt myself starting to ramble, trying to ward off the tears springing into my eyes. I rubbed my eyes, trying to ward off the redness. “But Jamie, I just… I just need some time. Okay?”

I stared at him, wanting him to say something, anything, but also dreading the words that might come out of his mouth. His eyes were darting around as he tried to understand what I was saying and figure out a response. But the longer it took, the worse I felt. I was ruining it, all of it. Any relationship we might have had is completely gone now.

            “(Y/N)… I-“

            “No, it’s okay! It really is!” I cut him off, deciding that I did not want to hear his sympathies. “I’ll just go. I’m gonna go.”

With that, I turned around, leaving the football on the field with Jamie and headed inside. Behind me I heard Jamie let out a loud curse and the sound of the ball going flying.

…

Jamie was confused. Somehow, in the past few weeks, he had managed to chase off all the people he considered himself closest to. Keely, Roy, and now, (Y/N). He didn’t know exactly how to react to her confession. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t attracted to her. She was fit and incredibly talented. And over the past few months they had gotten incredibly close.

Then there was Man City. His dad had gotten in her face and his blood was boiling. From the look on her face, this wasn’t the first rambunctious drunk she’d dealt with and that made him even more made. But after all that, she’d still been there for him. She sat with him the whole bus ride home, even falling asleep on his shoulder.  While she slept, he couldn’t help but look over her delicate features. It was so rare that he saw her so relaxed, and he was glad that he could provide a space for her to feel that comfortable.

The dance club was a mistake. His mistake. She’d been telling him about these uneventful dates she’d been going on. Dates where the guys were such idiots. He hadn’t meant to show up to the club that night, but he wanted to make sure she had a good time on her date. Then the guy had straight up ghosted her? He had to make sure she was alright. Any friend would. But then she was getting tipsy and dancing closer to him. And she just looked so good. If Colin hadn’t pulled her away, he probably would have kissed her then and there.

He was happy, so, truly happy again, at Richmond. The last time he was that happy was when he would go home to Keely at the end of the day. Then (Y/N) had hated him, and he was a big part of her unhappiness. But that feeling he had with Keely was back, even though he wasn’t spending as much time with her. He knew he was becoming the person she knew he was so maybe, some part of him, was changing for her.

That’s why he confessed his feelings for her at the funeral. After watching Rebecca’s moving eulogy, he didn’t want to wait anymore to hide his feelings away. But even after he had told Keely his feelings, things still didn’t feel right. And after that, Keely wasn’t talking to him anymore. Then (Y/N) stopped coming to our morning practices, and she wasn’t answering his texts. The only thing that had stayed the same was bloody Roy Kent and his arsehole nature. But he couldn’t even count on that to stay the same. Once he found out that he had told Keely that he loved her, Roy would kill him.

All of these thoughts rushed through Jamie’s head as he watched (Y/N) walk away. She was holding back tears, he could tell and it broke his heart to know he had caused that pain.

            “Fucking HELL” He grunted, kicking the ball back down the field. He fell onto the ground throwing his legs out and covering his face with his hands.

Just then, he felt a shadow come over him and he opened his eyes, blinking to adjust to the light.

            “Good morning, Jamie!” Sam’s cheerful voice broke through. “Are you enjoying your nap?

Despite his mood, Jamie couldn’t help but feel a little better in Sam’s presence. “I was, until you came along.” He smacked Sam’s leg as he sat up, bringing his knees up towards his chest. Sam could tell there was something wrong with his friend and he sat down next to him leaning back on his arms to prop himself up. He watched as Jamie picked at his fingers, clearly deep in thought.

            “Talk to me, Jamie,” he opened, nudging him.

            “It’s all fucked, Sam,” Jamie replied, exasperated. “I’ve fucked it all up.”

Sam chuckled. “I can tell. Everyone’s been talking about it.”

            “Wait, really?” Jamie frowned, looking seriously at Sam.

Sam smiled, shaking his head. “No, not really.”

            “Oh.”

When Jamie didn’t laugh, Sam knew there was something wrong. He knew Jamie had a hard time opening up sometimes, so he deiced to get the ball rolling.

            “Last night,d Edwin Akufo took me out to dinner,” He started, gaining Jamie’s attention.

            “Did he really?”

Sam nodded, looking down at the grass. “He bought a whole restaurant, just so I could have a taste of home.” 

 “He’s really wineing and dining you, eh?” Jamie comment, giving him an encouraging nudge.

“Yeah, he is.” Sam wished he could be more enthusiastic, but he was too conflicted. “And there are a lot of positives to joining him.”

“But…” Jamie knew there was a but. Otherwise, Sam wouldn’t be looking so damn depressed right now.

Sam’s slight smile, faded. “But… something is telling me that I need to stay here.”

Jamie nodded, trying to understand. Sam situation was unique and wasn’t something Jamie could relate to. He always played close enough to home that he could return whenever he wanted to. In any case, he appreciated Sam’s honesty and compassion.

            “I told Keely that I loved her, and I think I fucked everything up.”

Sam cocked his head. “You told Keely that you loved her?”

            “Yah?” Jamie frowned. “Why?”

            “Well, me and some of the guys had a bet on when you and (Y/N) were finally going to get together?” Sam admitted with a smile. “But I don’t think any of us thought you and Keely would get back together.”

            “Me and (Y/N)?” Jamie echoed. Why was this suddenly at the top of everyone’s minds?

            “Yeah! You two have been spending so much time together, we just thought that you were getting close!” Sam shrugged. “But aren’t you afraid of how Roy will react when he finds out.”

            “I was sorta hoping he wouldn’t?” Jamie admitted, cringing at how it sounded.

Sam laughed. “I would maybe not plan on that. Roy and Keely are very honest with each other.”

Jamie groaned, knowing Sam was right. “I just don’t know what’s going on in me brain. It’s like you said. Something is telling me I’m wrong.”

The two boys sat in silence, reveling in the similarity of their situations. While there was an obvious answer to their problems, there was something holding them back from those decision. In this moment, Jamie wished that (Y/N) was there. He found himself wishing for her a lot recently, especially since she’d been avoiding him. He tried to think about how she would react in this situation.

First, she’d probably laugh at him. Telling him how ridiculous he was for getting himself into this situation. Then she would tell him to breath, that everything was going to be okay. Then she’d probably laugh at him some more before telling him he needed to be accountable for what he did. He was out of line for talking to Keely and telling her he loved her. He needed to come clean to Roy and apologize to Keely. Then she’d probably make him run laps just for her own amusement. But she’d end up running them with him, so he didn’t have to suffer alone.

He smiled at the thought. At her laughing at him for whatever stupid situation he’d manage to get himself into. Her laugh was like a drug to him. The first time he’d made her laugh was that day where he’d shown her the Imperial ticket. He’d made some comment about how he was looking to dye his hair ‘walnut mist’ and she’d told him that was a made-up color. But when he’d pulled up samples he’d found, she started to laugh.  The sound was so beautiful he decided he wanted to make her laugh as much as possible.

Then it hit him. It was that feeling. That feeling he used to get when he was with Keely. That feeling that turned his cocky nature into a blushing mess. But he was feeling it about (Y/N) God was he really so stupid?

            “I think,” He spoke, again, addressing Sam. “That you should following your feelings.” With that, he hopped up and held out a hand for Sam to take. Sam took his hand and stood up. Jamie placed his hand on Sam’s back. “But just know, mate, whatever you choose, the team is with you.”

Sam grinned at him and patted Jamie’s back in an appreciative gesture. Together the two of them walked back inside.

Jamie’s heart was racing because for the first time in a long time, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Taglist: @heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog

[thelampisaflashlight]

Cinnamon

[Mountain reflects on his feelings towards Dew over the years.] Below the cut.

Mountain will admit, when he first met Dew, his feelings towards him were... not the best.

When he was summoned, Dew had lashed out at everyone who got near him -ripping and tearing without mercy, growling like a wounded animal- to the extent that even Omega struggled to restrain him.

Mountain had gotten cut up pretty badly just trying to prevent him from mauling one of the siblings assisting in his ritual, and while he would gladly let himself be torn up to save the life of one of the clergy, it hadn't exactly given him the greatest opinion of Dew.

It would have been easy for Mountain to write him off as just another feral ghoul, but Aether, who'd managed to sedate the crazed imp in the midst of the chaos, had told him to treat him... gently.

"Gentle?? That little fucker almost tore Brother Elijah's throat out, and you want me to be ge-"

"I almost did the same damn thing when I was summoned, Mount." Aether said, interrupting his tirade, "Look, man, he's... he's scared... and from what I saw before Omega took over, something is very wrong with him."

"You don't say." Mountain scoffed.

"Mountain, I'm serious." Aether sighed, "Just... let him be for a little bit, and be nice if he approaches you, okay? Don't be a dick and scare him off."

"When have I ever-"

"Ifrit."

Mountain sniffed.

"Fair enough."

Mountain wouldn't say he purposefully avoid Dew back then, he just happened to have other things to do in places where Dew was not...

And then Dew just had to go out of his way and find him.

The earth ghoul hadn't even noticed his approach, until Dew tugged on his sleeve... offering him a clump of grass?

"...Thank you?" he said, cautiously taking the wad of lawn clippings and dirt from him.

Dew shook his head, pointing at the pile.

"What is wha-Oh!" Mountain gestured at the dirt in his palm, "It's, uh... well the green stuff is grass, bit of clover in there, too, very nice, good for the bees, and the rest is... mud."

Dew tilted his head, then nodded, seeming to understand.

He stood there for a moment, hands finding their way behind his back, looking around at their surroundings before clever amber eyes caught something and he pointed once more.

"That's a leaf, oak leaf from the looks of it... there's a lot of different kinds of them actually-"

Mountain isn't sure how long he talked to Dew about plants for, but it had apparently been long enough for the others to come looking for them, worried that the two might have been tearing into each other, or, as Omega had fretted about the most...

"Oh thank the dark lord they're not fucking."

As time went on, it was easier to talk to Dew, even if the smaller ghoul didn't do much talking back.

He was quieter back then, and Mountain can recall Mist coaching him on how to speak, because he seemed incapable of doing so... though it was hard to say what the cause of his muteness had been.

He would open his mouth to speak, but would close it just as quickly.

When he did start talking, it was hard to get him to stop, and truth be told, no one wanted him to.

Alpha, who normally had a smaller tolerance for "bullshit", would let him babble in his ear about this or that, looking at him so lovingly that it was obvious even he had developed a soft spot for the little water ghoul.

Mountain was still on the fence though.

Even if Dew had become a staple in his day to day, he was still... dubious.

There was something about Dew that just felt off, and Mountain couldn't for the life of him pinpoint the exact cause of his concerns...

Until he smelled him.

Dew had always smelled like a cool ocean breeze, tinged with an icy scent he couldn't quite get a handle on, but somewhere under the frost, there was something burning.

A spice that made Mountain breathe a little deeper each time he got close to him.

It was crisp and sweet, but felt, at the same time, warm and inviting, like a fresh baked apple pie...

Actually.

"It's cinnamon." He said out of the blue one afternoon, having gone through nearly the entire spice rack in the ghouls' kitchen, and, fuck, did the others look at him funny back then.

But it made so much sense.

Dew smelled like cinnamon.

And Mountain had never been particularly fond of cinnamon.

Even still...

He could learn to like it.

Learn to like Dew.

It took time, but, when Dew left and came back... not broken, but in need of putting back together, Mountain was there.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would stand by him.

Every ache and pain.

Every bitter word formed from grief.

Every cry in the night...

And then the sleepwalking started.

It was scary and no one knew what to do about it.

And then Mountain thought, "He should have a roommate."

And suddenly, Dew was in his room, sharing his space, and...

And he didn't hate it.

He didn't hate Dew.

He...

He doesn't hate Dew.

[yelenasdiary]

Different Kind of Love || Part V

Pairing: CEO! MobBoss! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Working for Natasha was never easy and being a low-level assistant for the CEO wasn’t where you thought you’d be after working your hardest for 2 years. After catching you in tears on Christmas Eve, Natasha’s cold ways start to warm up.

Dark Themes | Language Warning |Mentions of Sexual Assault | Violence | Kidnapping | 2.3K | 

Notes: Dylan’s dialog is meant to sound like how a 5-year-old would talk and his nickname is Dyl and not a misspell.

Different Kind of Love Masterlist

"I'm not sure" Natasha replied looked directly into your eyes, "I'm going to see him to the police, will you be okay?" she adds as a slight frown forms on your face, "Mhm" you nod before she's out the door, closing it behind her. "You will pay for this!" Kane scoffs at Natasha as she politely guides him to the elevator while the entire office as their eyes on the pair of them, "Save it for the police" she hushes him before pressing the number 3 button. 

"You won't get away with this! how the fuck are you a lawyer?! You lit-"

Natasha cuts Kane off by slamming him to the wall, her right hand tightly wrapped around his throat, "You're foolish if you think Y/n will ever believe a word you just told her! You brought this upon yourself and this time, you won't be seeing the light of day!" She tightens her grip with every word just as the elevator doors open, she throws him to the floor as Bucky comes around the corner. 

"Who cut him free?" Natasha asked, glaring at Bucky. 

"Nobody!" Kane coughs as he catches his breath, "I did it myself" he adds. 

"I didn't ask you!" Natasha delivers a harsh kick to Kane's ribs causing him to whine in pain, "take him back and keep a fucking eye on him, can you do that?" she looks up at Bucky who nods, "and find who cut the prick free" she adds. 

Natasha returned to your office with a look of worry, "are you okay?" she asks softly. "No, I'm not" you mutter, "I don't know what's going on but Kane seemed really sure about blaming you for kidnapping him? He said that I asked you to do th-"

"Hey, hey" she walks over to you, "he's just trying to get into your head. I'm sure he's lawyers told him I'm representing you in the case. You know I wouldn't do something so stupid" she tries to assure you, but her words aren't enough to convince you.

"His hand was bandaged and you" you took a step back from your boss, "you take off randomly" you add.

 "Y/n, listen to me. Kane wants me off this case, he wants to make you out to be a bad mother, these are just stories he's coming up with. He's already in enough trouble for breaking the order in place. This is what he wants from you, to be second guessing and worried" 

Natasha's words now made more sense as you took a moment to think about everything that had just happened, "I'm sorry" you sigh in relief. "You don't have to apologise, how about you and Dylan go home as soon as he gets here? It's been a tough day" your boss offers. 

"Thanks" you smile softly as you feel yourself start to calm down, "if Kane's in custody, I think Dylan and I should go back home, I don't want to keep throwing him out of routine" you start to tidy your desk as Dylan should be arriving within in the next 10 minutes, "thank you for letting us stay with you and for helping" you add. 

"Will you stop thanking me? You're m-" Natasha pauses for a moment as you look up at her, "go on" you coached. 

"You're my" she paused again as if the words were starting to make her choke, "you're my f-"she tries once more. "Friend?" you ask with a raised brow, "Yes" she answers quietly with a light nod. A warm smile tugs proudly at your lips, "why are you smiling like that?" Natasha almost seems disgusted. 

"Because I think it's sweet that the not so cold hearted and very threating boss considers me her friend"

"Don't make a big deal out of it, the others will get jealous" 

"Your secret is safe with me, bestie" you could tell the term made Natasha cringe. "J-just call me if you need anything, please" Nat is quick to excuse herself. 

----

Even though Natasha made sense with Kane trying to make you out to be a bad mother, it still didn't stop your mind from wondering why she had a phone locked away or why she did take sudden trips and you weren't exactly sure that being a lawyer and whatever family business the woman had was enough to pay for things you'd seen. 

"Mommy, you're not watching!" Dylan pouts as you look up from the laptop, "sorry darling, I'm just doing something for work" you smile softly at your son. Your laptop screen showing the google search results for the hour glass keychain you saw on the maids set of keys. "But you promised" Dylan crossed his small arms over his chest, you did, you had promised the two of you would have a movie night with popcorn and no distractions. 

"You're right, I'm sorry" you reply, closing the lid of your laptop and turning your full attention to the movie Dylan picked. "So is that Mater?" you asked pointing to the red car on the TV. Dylan giggles and shakes his head, "no mommy that's lightening mcqueen!!" He corrects you before you pull him close to you and pull the throw blanket over you both. Just hearing him laugh was enough to stop your worries for the evening. 

As always, Dylan was fast asleep just before the movie came to an end. Popcorn crumps sprinkled on his top reminding you to make sure he brushes his teeth first thing in the morning. Carefully you carry him to his bed, tucking him in with a soft kiss on his forehead before taking a moment to admire the little human that you would do anything for, even if it meant spending some time apart. 

It wasn't an idea you loved but with everything going on, all you wanted was Dylan to be safe. You sat with the idea for a while as you slowly sipped your way through a nice hot tea. To ask your parents to have Dylan until the court case was over or to hope Kane would stay in police custody until then. You knew Natasha would have you and Dylan back in her condo if you'd asked but you had questions and even though it was none of your business truly, it still made you start to question Natasha's private life. 

"Y/n? is that you?" Your mothers soft voice came through your phone making you smile instantly at her voice, "Hi mum" you replied. 

"Oh my god, it is you! Darling is everything okay? We haven't heard anything in a while, we assumed you had to move again, how's Dylan? How are you?" Her questions came flying at you without giving you a split second to think. 

"A lot has been going on, I hope I'm not calling too late" 

"Of course not darling, your father is just getting in from poker night" she chuckles lightly, oh how you miss them, "what's going on sweetheart?" she asks. 

"Can you put me on speaker? I need to ask you guys something" 

"Sure, George honey!" your mother calls for your father, "how do I put this on speaker phone?" 

"Why do you want it on speaker? I don't want to hear about the town gossip" you hear your father mumble as he comes closer to the phone, "just do it would you" your mother sighs. Nothing has changed, they still argue as they did when you were living with them. "There, it's on speaker" your father says, "tell Brenda that John owes me a case of beer for tonight" he adds. 

"It's not Brenda, it's Y/n" your mother corrects. "Hi dad" you smile softly to yourself. 

"Well, I'll be damned! Is that my little girl?" Hearing your father call you his little girl once again almost made you tear, "She has something to ask us, go on honey, what is it?" Your mother speaks.

"It's a long story, something I'd rather tell you both in person but I was wondering if you both would take Dylan for a while? It wouldn't be for long, it's just I ne-"

"Of course, we will, you know we'll do anything for you both. What's going on? are you both okay? Do you have to move again? Please honey, we're just worried about you both" Your mother's worried town starts to break your heart, you hated so much that you left them behind. 

"He found us again" you sighed. 

"I wish you would've let me rip his head off when I had the chance!" you heard your father scoff, "But" you add before another word was mentioned, "My boss, Miss Romanova, she's a lawyer and damn good one. I've been working for her since we moved to New York and she knows about Kane and the whole situation" you explain

"A lawyer? Now I'm just getting more worried, Y/n"

"Mum, please, it's okay" you assure her, "Kane just wants custody of Dylan but Miss Romanova says we have a good case against him, I gave a statement to the police today about….you know and uhm, we put a restraining order in place"

"I wish you would've done this years ago when you had the chance instead of running off like you did" your father's tone is full of hurt, a hurt you caused. "I know dad, I'm sorry…I was scared but I promise this time is different, I just, I need Dylan to be safe… Kane is worse than I thought"

"Nothing was ever good about that boy" your mother mutters like you wouldn't hear, "Does this mean you're taking him to court?" she asks. 

"Yeah, Miss Romanova won't let me pay for her services, I just want Dylan away from all this until it's over" you explained just as you heard a knock on your door, "guys, I'll call you back, somebody is at my door, I love you" you added quickly before pressing the red button on your screen. 

The knock came again, this time louder. "I'm coming, gez!" you mumbled to yourself as you walked up to the door and looked through the peep hole. "Who are you?" you asked, making sure the door was locked. "Oh, I'm a friend of uhm, Romanova's" the mans voice sounded familiar but not somebody you could remember. 

"She doesn't live here, go away"

"Come on, Y/n, we used to be great friends and I think you're going to want to open that door" the man spoke sternly, the smell of cigarette made its way under your door but still you couldn't make out who he was by the small hole you were looking through. 

"Please leave before I call the police" you say as you pull up Natasha's number on your phone.

 "Don't make me break down the fucking door, I just need to talk about Kane and the things you're saying" you stopped your actions and looked up at the door with a frown, "you know Kane?" you question but got no answer. The loud shot of a gun being fired caused you to jump back from the door. 

Before you could even make a run for Dylan the man you now had better view of kicked the door open and smirked at you, "Remember me? Darling" he chuckled making your stomach turn, "What do you want?! Please, just go away!" You begged as he stepped towards you, the commotion waking Dylan. "Kane mention you were telling stories about what happened that night, I'm just here to remind you of the truth" Matt spoke with every step he took close to you as you backed yourself into the wall, your eyes traveled to Dylan who stood in the doorway of his room. 

"Kane is in custody, and I've alerted the police!" you spat giving Dylan a quick shake of your head to tell him to stay where he was. "You really are stupid, aren't you? Just like that wonderful night, tell all of us how much you wanted it" Matt comes to a stop, a little to close to you. "Please, just leave me alone!" You begged unsure what was going to happen, Matt chuckled once more at your begging, "come with me without making a scene and you'll be okay" 

"Matt, I'm not going with you!" you said, making sure to say his name, "don't make this harder than it has to be" Matt replied brushing a lock of hair out of your face as your jaw clenches at his actions, "so pretty, you haven't changed a single bit" he runs his tongue over his lips, "it's a pity you had my boss torture Kane, otherwise I wouldn't be here. I'm surprised she ate up your lies" 

"Leave my mommy alone!" Dylan runs up behind Matt doing his best to punch the taller man wherever he could get his little fists on. "This must be little Dylan" Matt smirks at you before he turns around to look down at Dylan. 

"Leave him alone, Matt!" 

"Maybe I'll just take you huh?" He slightly pushes Dylan to the side, "do you want to come on a little holiday?" he asks your son. "Fine! I'll go with you but leave him alone!" You step in front of Dylan with your eyes glued to Matt as his smirk only makes you want to be sick. "Good girl lets go" he grabs your arm. 

"Wait! Let me just put him back to bed, please"

Matt groaned, "no, he'll be fine. I don't have time to waste, let's go!" He tugs at your arm. "Dylan, honey, go to your room, okay? I'll be soon, I promise" you say as Matt drags you with him, his grip on your arm was sure to leave a bruise. Dylan's eyes filled with tears as be begged for you to stay with him, "it's okay baby, I'll be back, okay?" was the last he heard of you as Matt dragged you out of the apartment.

Taglist: @marvelogic | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @blackwidow-3 | @lilsmeaux | @mmmmokdok | 

[livingwithlosingyou]

Living with Losing You - 9/13/2022

Nightmares. 

I did not sleep well last night, I had terrible nightmares. Constant tossing and turning. I wanted to go to bed early, but unfortunately I really ended up going to bed at like 1am since I went to the bonfire then got dinner last night (I know, I already mentioned that).

Anyway, today I knew that I needed to be productive and get a BUNCH of training done. That was my number one priority. I decided to take Sadie to camp so I wouldn’t have to worry about her while I focused on the training. I ended up going and working from Public Square, which was really nice. The change of scenery is always helpful to have every now and then. It can be hard to focus when you’re at home sometimes. I was able to get most of my training done, the only things I am still pending are the harassment training, the fundamentals of coaching, the CPR / First Aid (though I plan to do that one tomorrow before the in person class in the evening), and then the suicide prevention course. I have been avoiding that one, for obvious reasons. I am a little nervous that it’s going to be an intense trigger for me. There was one other course allocated to me (CA state component), but it wasn’t on the initial list. Worst case, I can get the rest of it all done by Friday (besides that CPR / First Aid one of course). Luckily that one has bene pretty easy so far. Probably because I have taken it enough times, though I will say, there have been some changes. It makes me think about when you started working at the detox and they told you that you needed to get certified and you were like “I am a doctor” and they just gave you a card (LOL). Too funny. You were so freaking smart. Sometimes I wish I had your intelligence, but at the same time, I am grateful for my slightly above average and overly creative ADHD brain that I have. 

It was funny because I had initially planned to run today, but that absolutely didn’t happen. While i was working through one of the trainings, I was helping your dad compile some information that he needed in order to get stuff situated with your things. I ended up just using your phone to message him what he needed since it was all on there. This was super strange though. I even had to change the faceID to my face to make things easier moving forward. It’s just funny because I do not even have that feature on my phone. your phone was shut off, but iMessage still works of course. It was sad, but I was happy to assist with what I could. After that I decided to take a nap because I was just exhausted from the nights of garbage sleep. 

When I woke up I realized that it was already almost 3:30pm, and that i had not had lunch yet. So, I ventured out toward Mission Valley to get one of my favorite salads ever. it was totally worth the trek. Fortunately I had beat the traffic, so it didn’t take too long to get home, I was on a time crunch too, cause I had therapy today at 5pm. 

When I got home I quickly ate / worked one a training, then signed onto my therapy call. I need to schedule more meetings, I guess this was my last one on the calendar. Anyway, it was a good and productive meeting. I talked about the business I want to open, how I am struggling with healing the trauma, etc. She gave me resources and some great advice that I am going to look into prior to our next meeting. 

After this call, I realized it was a little past 6pm, and GriefShare starts at 6:30pm. I rushed to grab Sadie, quickly dropped her off at home / fed her, and rushed to the next meeting. I really like this group of ladies that are in this program, and actually enjoy the video program and the prompts as well. Today’s focus was on WHY. I think this is the question everyone is asking. We are asking you why, but also we are asking God, why???? 

Why didn’t God stop you? Why did this happen? Why are you gone, and why are there still horrible people that get to live? All the questions. It talked about hoe normal this is, and how God encourages us to lament. It’s like when we want to complain at a store, we don’t go to the employee, we as for the manager. God will be the one to hear our complaints and help us with actual peace and solution for them. I really liked that analogy. It also talked about how just because you’re a good christian does not equate to blessings and always having good fortune. It’s like the saying “why do bad things happen to good people?” I will be honest, I feel like that. I feel like Job at times. He has come up a lot recently in conversation with other friends, church service, and now GriefShare. We also talked about how God doesn’t owe us an answer or an explanation, and the reality is that even if we did know, we still likely wouldn't understand. It also wouldn’t take away the pain from the fact that you’re gone either way, whether I have all of the answers or none at all. I could go on and on and on (because there were so many great topics!), but the basis was really yo address the importance of trusting God with our emotions and viewing him as always good and sovereign. God is good, always. I do believe that. In the devastation, there is a sense of comfort in seeing how God is using this and me for that good. Like I have said, your legacy lives on, and you are helping so many people. 

On my drive home I had a talk with my dad. It’s been so interesting to see how other people in my life grieve you. It can be challenging to be in different phases of grief than other people, and try to communicate. For me, mine is such a scribble, but for my dad’s, it’s been pretty consistent. The beauty is that God encourages us to grieve how we need to, and he is empathetic because he knows loss too. It’s said that one of the most powerful verses in the bible is “Jesus wept”. I agree with that. Vulnerability and empathy are strengths. When I got home I ate the rest of my salad, basically a sleeve of GF Oreos, talked to Bri about the event Thursday, tried on said dress for the event (I think I may need to try and find something else, crunch time!!!), and then showered / now am sitting in bed. my goal moving forward is to be in bed (just in general) by 10:30pm, which I was today. It is not almost 11pm, so I will be wrapping this blog up here soon. 

All in all, today was mostly productive. There are things I wanted to do, but just ran out of time to do them. Looks like I will tackle those on Friday, my next day off. 

Tomorrow I have work, and then the online / in person CPR / First Aid course. 

Wish me luck, busy busy girl! I know you’re with me though. 

I miss you and I love you, five-ever.

Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols

10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022

[automatismoateo]

I need to vent hard… via /r/atheism

I need to vent hard…

To begin, there was an event that happened at my sons school ball game. Before each game, the team circles in to pray. I had absolutely zero idea this was happening until about the last quarter of this season. Us parents go to whichever field we are playing on while the team warms up on a different field.

Living in the south, I can not throw a rock without it landing in a church parking lot. I am surrounded by religion. So with that in mind, I told my son (7) to just wait out side the circle, then to step in when they break down and chant their team name.

Easy enough, right?

So next game and my son steps back. The assistant coach then told him to come on and get in. My son says no. Assistant coach tells him again to come on. My son says I don’t do that. Assistant says yes you do. My son says no.

I’m watching on the side line because I fully realize a seven year old can easily be persuaded to do something by an adult.

So when I see my son tell this guy four times, no, I yell over “he doesn’t do that”.

The guy shrugs, the team prays, my son steps in at the end and they chant the school name.

Four times too many. I took it on the chin.

Next game, I tell my son to do the same thing.

The assistant coach again ask my son to join in the prayer. My son says no and so the assistant tells him to stay in the dugout next time.

Annoyed by the prospect of exclusion (funny how religion where it doesn’t belong can do that), I talk to the head coach.

“I want my son to not join in on the prayer, and then to join in on the team chant. Make sure your assistant coach doesn’t pester my son anymore”

Head coach says he will take care of it. He does. No more problem.

That’s the lead up to tonight.

Head coach tells us it’s about a school night at a city league baseball game. We all go.

At the end of the game, I see my son sitting alone. I call to him that it’s time to go and when he comes to me, I see that he is crying.

A player in the bull pen tossed him a ball and he dropped it. Another boy snagged it from him.

Guess which boy. Yeah….the assistant coaches son.

My son then tells me he told this boy to give it back but said the boy would not. I try to teach my son to be polite but to also not be a push over. So I ask my son, do you want to go get it back? He says yes and so we head back.

Along the way, a security lady stops us, seeing my son crying, and verify my sons story. “The player tossed the ball to your son, but the bigger boy took it from him”. Okay. It’s good to know my son is accurate. These sort of things can be foggy in the details.

So he finds the boy and heads down ahead of me. I watch, heading to them, as my son makes the boy stop and asks for his ball back. Unfortunately, I notice the other boys mother getting involved. When I approach, I find her asking my son what’s going on, and then defending her son because the ball was dropped.

When I was there, she instantly coped an attitudes with me. Not to my surprise, she doesn’t care for me because I made her husband (the assistant coach) stop pestering my son. I know this is the case, explained in a bit.

She’s is clearly defensive, and I have zero interest in arguing with her. So seeing the security lady at the top of the stairs, i motion for her to come down.

“Can you explain what’s going on?” I ask the security guard.

The lady then verifies that the bigger boy did in fact steal the ball from my son.

THAT should have been the end of it. “Give the ball back, sorry it happened”. Any respectable parent when told their child acted in such a way SHOULD, in my opinion, show remorse for their child’s actions and use it as an opportunity to teach their child better.

Nope.

Clearly annoyed, she waves her husband over. He comes over and ask what’s going on. To which the security lady tells him. At this point, the mom gives the ball to my son and says “it’s just a ball!” (If that’s the case. Why are you so upset?). My son takes it and runs off to which she yells “you can at least say thank you!”

I am at this point very upset and doing my best to remain calm. But I do step in and tell her “his ball was stolen, he doesn’t have to say thank you for getting it back”.

She storms off

Now to the assistant coach, and why I’m posting this to r/atheism.

He says “you know what…no. Never mind”

“If you want to talk about us, I’m happy to” I tell him back. It’s obvious there is tension between us concerning him trying to make my son pray.

“No. I don’t think I will” he tells me back.

“Okay. But I’m happy to get it out if you want”

He hesitated and then go on to preach…

“I just want to say, I’m praying for you and I love you. And I love your son”

Okay. Sure. “I know you mean that, and I appreciate what you think it means.” I say back.

Then he turns to my son “and I want you to know god loves you too”

Very annoyed now, I interrupt and tell him “you have to know how inappropriate that is. You know for a fact we don’t believe, my sons told you four times. There are boundaries and you need to respect them.”

I’ll admit now, looking back, I should have been more aggressive. Maybe even more rude. But I really do try my best to present atheism in a calm and positive light. And to see a grown man disrespect such clear boundaries so openly pisses me the fuck off. Not because I’m afraid my sons going to convert. But because how how arrogantly righteous that guy is!!

In the end my son got his ball back and was happy. They stormed off feeling like they did the right thing, even going so far as telling their son he did the right thing….what?! He stole a ball and his mom had to give it back….and we went our separate way.

Now at home, all I can do is fume over that man’s arrogance. He showed zero doubt or remorse for his inappropriate behavior, and I know he will only go home feeling righteous in his actions.

And that’s what burns me the most.

People like him feel they have a right, even an obligation, to insert and push their religion no matter what. And to do so makes them…good?…better?

Religion does NOT give you the right to step over boundaries that are very clear and have already been expressed to you.

Treat your religion like you would your dick. Keep it to yourself and don’t try to shove it down my sons throat….

Side note: living in the south, surrounded by the religious, I have no one else to vent to.

Tldr: religious people feel they are right/righteous even when they are being extremely rude.

Submitted May 22, 2022 at 06:40AM by JosephStrider (From Reddit https://ift.tt/9WVeSFQ)

[1kook]

card swiped (3)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love.  GENRE romance, smut, teensy angst WARNINGS eventual smut, mentions of sex, virginity plays a huge role OTHER college crushes, childhood friends to lovers, besties to lovers, volleyball player!jk, student council pres!oc, seokjin is 32... and a a coach lol<3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.5k

NOTES (!) seokjin being a hot 32 year old <3 jk gets progressively more dumb as it goes, prayer circle <3 lmk what u think !

[ masterlist ]

The truth is, the reason Jungkook doesn’t lie that much is because he’s terrible at it. 

His mother had found out soon enough who put that dent on the car after a slip-up at the dinner table. His high school coach had learned he had purposely skipped out on practice after an accidental snapchat and jealous teammate had snitched. And, well. Fifteen minutes after the end of practice finds him sitting outside the gymnasium, a grimace on his face as he considers running back to your room and confessing to all his lies. Admitting he’s still a virgin— which was practically of no use to you —and maybe even revealing his own recently uncovered feelings was the easy way out. 

Thankfully, Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is there to knock some sense into him. The hard plastic of the clipboard they use to outline their attacks smacks him hard over the head, making Jungkook’s bones rattle from his skull down to his toes as he steps up behind him. He whirls around to glare at the perpetrator, only to come face to face with the aforementioned assistant coach. “Go home,” Seokjin says, twirling the gym keys in one hand. “I’m trying to lock up.”

“What’s stopping you,” Jungkook huffs, tucking his knees to his chest, ignoring the awfully rude manner in which Seokjin nudges him away, foot against his back as if he’s just an annoying pile of cardboard boxes in his way.

“What’s wrong with you today?” Seokjin asks casually, doesn’t sit next to Jungkook on the steps because he’s always been a little too posh. According to Taehyung, Kim Seokjin graduated from some elite university in another country with near immaculate all-around player statistics before Jungkook even knew what a volleyball was. His success and fame in the world of collegiate volleyball is why he never wears the standard-issued slippers around the court, always some high-end, luxury brand. One glance slightly to his left has Jungkook meeting the black stripe of the frequently sought after Givenchy sneakers head on. 

He scoffs, a sound that Seokjin doesn’t approve of if the karate chop he lands on the back of his neck is anything to go by. “Ow,” Jungkook flinches, pushing him away with an irritated sigh before eventually slumping over his knees again because it’s the exact same thing you do to him sometimes. Study nights— dates, his brain supplies now —where he begins gazing off into space are filled with numerous karate chops to the neck in an effort to get him to focus on his homework. “Come on, Jungkookie,” you always tease, playful smile, lithe fingers toying with the corners of the pages in your book in a way that was almost sensual. But then he does a double-take because he’s aware of the rose-tinted lens he’s unknowingly slapped over it, something he would have maybe not noticed pre-realization of his feelings. And even he is shocked by the absolute seductiveness his brain inserts into an otherwise innocent memory. He’s pretty sure you haven’t called him Jungkookie in years— was his brain trying to hint at something here?

Jungkook groans, knocking his head against his knees as a form of self-punishment for his lecherous thoughts concerning his best friend. 

But his show of emotions must move Assistant Coach Kim because, after a moment of trying to concuss himself against his own knee, there’s a hand placed on his shoulder that makes Jungkook pause. He doesn’t even bother turning around, just throws his head back to look at Seokjin upside down. He’s got a double chin from this angle. “It’s a girl, isn’t it,” his coach sighs, looking at Jungkook with what can only be described as an unimpressed expression. 

“No,” Jungkook defends even though it’s true. “Can’t I just be sad for oth—“

“I heard Jimin call you a simp on the way out,” Seokjin says rather bluntly. And then he surprises Jungkook a second time as he throws aside his posh status to sit on the dirty concrete steps beside him with a sigh. “What did you do?” 

See, Jungkook could lie here and prance off to deal with his own problems. Leaving Seokjin and everyone else in the dark concerning his personal life was, honestly speaking, the smartest thing to do. He didn’t mind his volleyball teammates and friends (in this case, his coach), but he also wasn’t too fond of being relentlessly teased throughout the entire five or more hours they spent together almost every day of the week. 

But also… 

If what Taehyung had said is true— that being, if Kim Seokjin is the illustrious bachelor who charmed his way into multiple foreign panties all whilst demolishing the spirits of liberos and defensive specialists in another country —then Jungkook needed to capitalize off his presence immediately. 

So he lays his cards out flat. “I… might’ve told my best friend I’d take her virginity,” he blurts out, turning to face Seokjin. For the most part, the older man doesn’t look too surprised. If anything, mildly amused. Jungkook quickly adds, “while also being a virgin.” 

“You’re a what,” Seokjin exclaims, chokes on his own saliva in an admittedly not Casanova, bachelor-esque fashion that ends with him coughing into his elbow and Jungkook hurriedly patting his back. “You?” Seokjin repeats once he’s composed himself. “Are a— don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Jungkook’s cheeks warm. “No, Coach. I do not have a girlfriend,” he emphasizes, because who knew sharing the details of his (lack of) sex life would be this embarrassing? 

Seokjin frowns. “What about that girl?” he asks, and Jungkook raises his brows. “You know the one. Carries around stacks of papers to sign, goes to all the games. The one who pats you on head all the time.” And he’s talking about you, of course he is, but the insinuation that other people might, maybe, possibly, perceive you as his girlfriend makes Jungkook malfunction. 

“She’s— That’s—“ he sighs, dropping his head down until his chin touches his chest, brushed against the lucky necklace you’d given him two years ago during their first trip to Nationals. “That’s… my best friend.” 

Beside him, Seokjin says, “the one you’re gonna fuck?” 

Jungkook lets out a long exhale. “Yes. The one I’m going to fuck.” And it’s so blunt and crude, not that it’s surprising coming from him, but it’s surprising because he’s talking about you. Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love. 

The thought must show on his face because Seokjin snorts. “Well, good luck.” 

And then he stands up and begins walking down the sidewalk and Jungkook can’t spring up fast enough. “Wait,” he gasps, clutching at his forearm. He feels like a dorky character in those dramas you like so much, the ones you force him into watching every time he comes over. Like he’s some disgraced son looking for his father’s approval. Except Assistant Coach Kim is neither his father nor someone he really wants approval from anyway. 

What he does want is pointers. From an experienced pro, if you will. 

Jungkook has to swallow down all his pride as a man to ask his next question. “H- How do I—“

Seokjin beats to it him with a flick to the forehead. “I’m your volleyball coach, kid,” he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not your sex coach.” It’s a sensible rejection, one that Jungkook expected, but still. He deflates, let’s the weight of the world and his heavy gym bag nearly knock him onto the ground. 

But Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is kinder than he lets on and, after one annoyed sigh, let’s him in on the secret Jungkook has been chasing for all his life. (Or, well, for the past few hours since he first propositioned you.)

“The key to impressing your partner is to always act like you know what you’re doing,” he tells him, arms crossed over his shoulders. It’s night now, the campus shrouded in darkness. But Jungkook swears a heavenly light shines down on Kim Seokjin just then, a halo appearing over his head when he jabs a finger against Jungkook’s chest. “Confidence is sexy.” 

“Confidence is sexy,” Jungkook repeats, feels like a kid who’s just met his favorite wrestler after years of being an avid fan, watching every match, memorizing every finishing move, collecting every figurine— it’s a little too specific but it makes sense in Jungkook’s case. You would understand this analogy perfectly, having grown alongside him during his iconic wrestling phase (before volleyball). You had indulged him in his interest, had let him practice those Do Not Try at Home moves on you again and again, even when you knew it ended with you bruised and crying, the twin pigtails you used to rock as a kid uneven and messy. But as your best friend, you had let him twist your arm and pin you to the count of three, because that’s what a good best friend did. 

And as your best friend, Jungkook was gearing himself up to completely, thoroughly rock your virgin world. Because that’s what a good best friend did.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[mypoisonedvine]

Hungry Like The Wolf | soft!dark!Ari Levinson x reader

summary: when you need ari’s help for a secret mission with the CIA, he expects gratitude from you— and he wants a lot more than just a thank you card.

word count: nearly 6.5k

warnings: smut (dub con/coercion/sex as bartering tool), oral sex (f receiving) and vaginal sex, overstimulation, possessiveness/very very slight yandere vibes?, some violence and gun use, mentions of human trafficking/warfare, religious discussions and traditions but not particularly orthodox ones, vague discussions of sexism and misogyny with implied religious background, overall just lots of global politics and all that fun stuff

(a/n: I went ahead and wrote the hebrew and arabic in english lettering because tumblr doesn’t support right to left text so just a heads up.  my arabic is very weak so I apologize if there are any errors.)

Taking a deep breath, you ran through your pitch in your head again.  Sure, you’d had plenty of time to go over it on the plane, but one last recitation couldn’t hurt, right?  Unable to stall any longer, you turned the knob and entered Ari Levinson’s office.

You’d heard he was good-looking but his appearance still surprised you; his long hair and thick beard made him look like he’d fit in with a rock band better than an intelligence agency, and his half-buttoned shirt put his Star of David necklace and muscled, hairy chest on display.

He must have caught your gaze trailing down because he smirked at you, making your cheeks feel a bit warm.

“Mr. Levinson,” you greeted as you looked up to his face again.

He greeted you as ‘Ms.’ instead of ‘Agent,’ but you let it slide since you were about to ask him for quite the favor.  When he motioned for you to take a seat across from him, you did so with a nod and a quick smoothing of your skirt.

“So, what can I help you with?” he prompted. 

This was the easy part; this was the part you’d rehearsed a thousand times.  “There is a group of trafficked women and girls who have been rescued from all over— Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Kuwait— and gathered in Riyadh.  We are working on a plan to move them to Cyprus and, eventually, Greece where they will be accepted into a camp there.  Maybe they’ll end up in the States at some point, if we can swing it, but… Cyprus is step one.”

Ari nodded, listening to your story with more patience than anyone else had so far.

“As you can imagine, it would be a lot easier to move through Jordan and Israel and use your ports, rather than go around through Egypt or Syria…”  He stared at you expectantly as you trailed off, and you cleared your throat before finishing:  "The CIA would greatly appreciate Mossad's cooperation in the movement of these refugees."

"How much would they appreciate it?"

You paused, unsure what he meant.  "Um, quite a lot, I'm sure…"

"I just mean that we have missions the CIA could be a useful assist for, too,” he clarified, interlacing his fingers and resting his hands on his lap.  “You guys have a lot more resources than we do.  If we help you out, is this going to be an allyship we can rely on?"

You swallowed dryly, pondering if there was a way to get out of this before you sighed and slumped down in your chair, leaning a little closer to him.  "Alright, I have to be honest with you: it's not really the CIA that's asking for your help."

"Then who is?"

"Me.  Just me.  I'm the only one who believes in this mission; I'm the only one fighting for these people.  The CIA won't help you because they won't even help me and I work for them."

He slumped his shoulders a little bit.  "Then I'm not sure if I can afford to say yes to you."

"Please," you implored, "I know I can't offer you as much as they can, but I'll do whatever I can to make this work.  Please," you repeated as you laid your hand over his, noticing the way his expression shifted a bit, "help me."

"I've been the one person fighting for a mission before," he remembered, voice a little softer.  "I know how hard it is to go it alone."

You smiled gently at him.

"And, I know how far I would've gone to get my people to safety." 

His hand flipped around suddenly and grabbed yours tightly, pulling you closer as you gasped.

"How far will you go?"

You shivered, the darkness in his eyes burning right through you even when you tried to look away.  "Mr. Levinson, I—"

"Call me Ari," he instructed gruffly, grip tightening around your wrist until you yelped softly.

"Ari," you corrected, "I have money—"

"Don't want it."

"I can offer you my assistance in—"

"Don't need it."

"Tell me what you need,” you requested softly.

"I need to know you're gonna show me this 'great appreciation' you promised,” he answered quickly.  “I need to know that if I take care of you, then you'll take care of me."

You gulped but nodded.  "O-of course…"

"Good."

He released you from his grip and stood up, smiling at you like nothing had even happened.

"Pleasure doing business with you, madam."

You stood up and left his office in a haze, unsure if what had just happened was a dream or reality.  But, sure enough, he showed up the next day where you’d told him to meet you, and brought some money and fake passports that you desperately needed.  Frankly, just having a man around was going to make things smoother for you, even if it was a white man who didn’t exactly blend in by any stretch of the imagination.  Seeing him again the next day only reminded you how big he was, tall but moreso heavy with muscle; he looked pretty cramped in his tiny coach seat on the plane to Dubai (your connecting stop where you’d spend the night before flying out to Riyadh).

“Bloody mary, please,” he requested from the stewardess with a gentle nod, turning to you.

“Uh, just water, thanks,” you ordered quickly with a tilted smile.  You had brought a book to read, but Ari insisted on barraging you with personal questions about your job, your personal life, your favorite things— he seemed fascinated by the most mundane things, and disinterested in giving his own backstory.  

Of course you considered that it wasn’t a great idea to tell him so much about yourself, let him in your head and under your skin.  But then again, you’d put your trust in him enough for the mission, so you ought to trust him completely, right?  

So why did his stare send shivers up your spine?

//  

There was room for you and Ari at a CIA safehouse outside Dubai; it wasn’t exactly luxurious or anything, but at least you weren’t going to have to share a room… or a bed.

Normally staying in a safehouse meant sharing common areas with a random assortment of other agents, but it being a Friday night in Dubai meant they were all out enjoying the local nightlife while you two stayed in.  Hoping to review a game plan for the mission with him, you found Ari’s door open, peeking around to see him on his knees on the floor, a candle burning before him, and his hands raised to cover his eyes and face.

“Shema Yisrael,” he sung to himself below his breath, “Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Ehad…”

He jumped a little when he uncovered and opened his eyes only to find you standing there.  “Shabbat Shalom,” you greeted.

“Shabbat Shalom,” he nodded back.  

“I’m sorry you’re forced to take your Shabbat alone,” you apologized, “and that there’s nobody other than me to appreciate your vocal chops.”

His cheeks tinged pink at that.  “It’s all part of the sacrifices we make for our missions, eh?”

“Then I suppose you don’t mind that you’ll be doing plenty of work tomorrow,” you presumed.

“You probably realized by now that I’m not actually so traditional,” he chuckled, extinguishing the candle and standing up.  “I work on the sabbath quite a lot.”

“I hear work is permitted if it is needed to save a life.”

He smiled, but he looked a little sad; maybe not sad, but tired.  “With me, it always is.”

The silence was thick as you tried to reconcile that this was the same man that had grabbed and threatened you— was it a threat?  You couldn’t even tell anymore.  Apparently he wasn’t going to take whatever it was that he wanted until you’d finished the mission, and that should’ve made it easier to procrastinate your worry, but the extra time to ponder what it was actually going to be only brought further anxiety.

Of course, you had an idea of what he was going to ask of you, but the fact that nothing too untoward had happened in his office when you first met him was throwing you off.  In that moment, you were just waiting for him to tell you to get on your knees and show him how bad you wanted these women rescued, but he didn’t.  Wouldn’t have been the first time somebody tried to bribe you into sex; it would’ve been the first time, however, that you actually considered doing it.

Now, the anticipation just made it worse; you were working with him every day and he always acted normal, as if there wasn’t this looming threat of whatever favor he was going to ask from you in return.

Once you actually got to work the next day, it was easier not to think about that.  You barely had any extra brainpower to think about anything except survival and extraction.  Still, each time you looked at him only to find him already looking at you, your hands shook a little.

//

“You’ve been driving for 10 hours, you’re sure you don’t want me to take the wheel?” you offered, watching him blink a few times to clear his vision.

“Not worth getting arrested,” he frowned.

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“Not worth the risk of getting caught.  And I don’t know about you, but if I get arrested here, I’ll probably be killed, too.”

You chewed your lip as you appreciated that it was probably worth avoiding as much trouble as possible.  It’s not like the CIA was popular in these parts, either, and for good reason.

“What’s that up ahead?” he asked, leaning further forward against the steering wheel and squinting.

“Um,” you stalled as you unfolded the paper map in your lap, “I’m… not sure.”

“Looks like a barricade,” he announced, and it did; a gate with two guards and barbed wire on either side.

“There isn’t supposed to be a stop here,” you reminded him as you frantically shuffled around the map, making sure you were where you thought you were and that there wasn’t a mark indicating a vehicle stop on the road.

“What do we do?” he asked, looking around as if he was considering veering off the path even though that would be equally dangerous.

“There isn’t supposed to be a stop here,” you repeated, more anxiously.

“Well, there is,” he replied, his own agitation clearly increasing, “so we’ll have to go through it.”

“They’re going to pull us over.”

“Probably,” he admitted.

“And they will search the back of the truck.”

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t.  How well do you think they’re gonna take it when they see eighty-something women packed like sardines?”

You chuckled a little even though you were anything but amused.  “Um, not good.”

As the men at the stop waved to signal your car to slow down, Ari sighed a little.  "I'll ask once again: what do we do?"

"Act natural," you suggested quickly as you lifted the scarf draped around your head to cover your nose and mouth.

Ari slowed down to a stop, lowering the window to talk to the officer outside and putting on a fake English accent.  “How can I help you, sir?”

“Identification please,” he requested sternly.  Ari smiled as he grabbed his and your passports, handing them over through the window.  It was a long, awkward moment as he flipped through the thick papers slowly, his partner leaning down to look through your window but never taking his hands off his gun.  “What brings you out here?” the man finally asked.

“My wife and I operate a restaurant in Jordan, and we get most of our equipment here because the workmanship is better,” Ari explained.  “Just passing through with our new stoves and oven hood.”

The officer glanced back over your truck, his expression mostly unreadable but overall not necessarily friendly-looking.  “Could you step out of the vehicle please?”

“Hal hdha daruri?” you asked quickly; Is this necessary?

“Alsamt,” he replied in a hiss; Silence.

Ari looked around like he was thinking but nodded and reached for the handle to his door.  You did the same, the second guard stepping out of your way so you could swing open the rusted metal and step out.

The men guided for you to circle the car with them, stopping at the back and staring at the metal sliding door that was latched shut.

Turning to address Ari, the guard’s face dropped completely as he got a bit more serious.  “What am I going to find in your vehicle?”

“Kitchen supplies, like I said,” Ari insisted.

As the officer reached for the latch on the back of the truck, Ari shot you a wide-eyed look and you gave him a quick nod.  He lunged at the second guard, wrestling him for his gun while you went after the first, who was much easier to take down with him being distracted by trying to unlock the back of the truck.  Your CIA instincts told you to shoot him once you’d grabbed his weapon, but thankfully you knocked him out with the butt of it instead.

Loud pops of gunfire beside you made you fear the worst, but Ari had managed to push the gun toward the sky before pulling it out of the officer’s grasp, swinging it wildly until it made contact with his head and he fell to the ground.

Gun in hand and panting heavily, Ari looked back at you with a grin.  “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You almost got shot,” you reminded him.

“A little more than almost,” he corrected, showing you a gash where a bullet had grazed arm.

“Shit, Ari!” you yelped, running over to him and inspecting the wound.  The way he looked down at you as you clutched him made you sort of regret it, though.

“It’s fine,” he assured you, but he made no effort to push you away.

“I… should check on the girls,” you decided, a little bit distracted but making your way back to the truck to roll up the metal back and examine the women inside, who looked scared at first but relaxed when they saw you.

“Kli shay' ealaa ma yaram,” you assured them that everything was fine, “nahn taqribaan 'iilaa al'urduni, wasawf nasil 'iilaa alsafinat allaylat.”  We're almost to Jordan and will arrive at the ship tonight.

They relaxed a bit and smiled at you, a few muttered ‘shukraan jazilaan’s (meaning ‘thank you’) echoing from inside.  You hated to shut the back and plunge them into darkness again, but they had assured you before that they would brave any conditions for a chance at freedom.  You hoped they meant it.

“Please, let me drive, you’re injured,” you offered to Ari as he started to make his way toward the driver’s side door.

“It’s not even that bad, and we’ve had enough run-ins with the law today,” he dismissed.

“Then let me patch you up first, okay?  Is that so terrible?”

He smiled a little.  “No, I guess not.”

And that was how you ended up leaning on him in the passenger seat, supergluing his arm shut, trying not to think about how his bicep was probably bigger than your head.

“You’re a pretty good medic,” he observed, speaking quietly since you were so close.

“When you’re as clumsy as I am, you have to be,” you responded, sounding monotone due to focusing mostly on your work.  “It shouldn’t scar too—”

You stopped when you looked up at him, because the way he was staring back down at you made you completely devoid of the ability to speak or even conjure words in your mind.  You’d never seen him so close before and those piercing blue eyes made your head spin.

“What were you gonna say?” he asked softly, 

“It… shouldn’t scar too bad,” you finished, “as long as you keep it clean and dry.”

“I generally aim to keep my entire body clean and dry,” Ari chuckled.

“Right, yeah, well— keep up the good work, then,” you stammered as you wrapped some gauze around his arm and rolled his sleeve back down over it.

“Let’s hit the road before we waste any more time,” he suggested, and with a nod you leaned back into your seat.

//

The radio blasting was the only thing keeping both of you awake as you drove through the dark.  The border to Jordan was easy enough, and both of you sighed with relief as you crossed into Israel.  It was by far the biggest blockade you’d seen so far, but of course, Ari got you in faster than you’d moved through anything else.

“Good to be home?” you asked when you saw Ari smiling as he looked around at the streetlights through the windshield.

“You could say that,” he answered.  “Think we have time to stop for falafel before we get to the port?”

“Not unless you plan on buying for all your passengers,” you laughed, motioning toward the back.  “If they have to wait until we reach the ship, so do we.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he relented.  “Besides, probably better to be seen by as few people as possible.  Even if we’re in friendly territory, it’s still a covert operation and all.”

“Wow, so you do have some desire to play by the rules,” you gasped in faux shock.  He smiled and shrugged a bit.

“More like the rules and my desires occasionally overlap.”

It was past midnight when you pulled into the port, surrounded by ships so big that you couldn’t see the tops of them from inside the car.  A cargo ship was waiting for you, along with some Navy men who helped you escort the women onto the vessel.

Since it wasn’t meant to accommodate this many people, the refugees occupied extra crew space while you and Ari were given sleeping bags in an unused office; you were so tired, though, that it actually looked enticing.

As soon as you’d set your pack down and shut the door, you heard a distant horn and felt the ship begin to move.  You let out a long sigh as you leaned against the desk, watching Ari take a seat in the chair and start laughing exhaustedly.

“We did it,” you smiled, “we fucking did it.”

“We’ve still got a long boat ride ahead of us,” Ari mitigated, “but yeah… we should be in the clear, and tomorrow afternoon we’ll be in sunny Cyprus.”

You were so elated from the high of a successful mission that you forgot to worry about Ari’s vague request all those weeks ago; it was probably the first time you hadn’t thought about it since then, truthfully.  That changed when his smile fell as he looked up at you, eyes darkening a little and scanning your body.

“You’re a great agent,” he nodded slowly, “and an incredible woman.  You saved a lot of people tonight.”

You shifted nervously under the weight of his stare, but tried to hide your discomfort.  “I… couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I know,” he informed you coldly, standing up and approaching you.  “I think I’ve gone above and beyond on my end of our deal.”

A pit formed in your stomach, growing with each step he took towards you.  His eyes stayed trained on you except for when he glanced to the side to flip on the radio, American music suddenly piping through the speakers.

— discord and rhyme, I’m on the hunt, I’m after you…

You looked to the radio as well but his hand gently guided your jaw until you looked back at him; he was closer than ever, and you had to look up to meet his gaze, shivering as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip slowly.

“Are you good for your end of the deal?” he asked lowly.

And I’m hungry like the wolf…

You swallowed, hoping it would somehow ease the ache in your gut as you realized what was about to happen, before nodding meekly.

He smirked a little.  “Good girl,” he praised, only a bit louder than a whisper, as his hand moved to cradle your face.  “You want me, don’t you?”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out how you were supposed to answer that.  “I want to repay you, for all you’ve done for me.”

“No, not just that,” he disagreed, “you want me.  I know you do.  You don’t need to hide it, we’re alone…”

Hesitant but catching on to his desires, you nodded a little.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Ari,” you whispered.  

It felt like forever waiting for him to kiss you as he leaned in slowly, eyes half-lidded and dark but never leaving you.  As his lips brushed against yours, you finally let your eyes flutter shut and reciprocated his kiss.  His hands felt especially big as one slipped behind your neck and the other rested on your waist; in fact, with the way you had to crane your head up to kiss him back, all of him felt big.  Including the part you were pretty sure just bumped against the inside of your thigh.

His kiss was soft and patient but determined, slow but somehow still moving faster than you were ready for.  You gingerly reached up and rested your hands on his shoulders; they were strong and warm beneath your touch, even through his shirt.  You couldn’t think of the last time you’d been kissed like this, or held so tenderly like this, but then again, you were also sure that nobody had scared you like this in a long time, either.  For a woman who always knew what to do in a dangerous situation, you couldn’t seem to get a read on Ari Levinson— mostly because you didn’t truly believe he was dangerous.  But maybe you should.

When his hands reached up to start unbuttoning your blouse, you pushed him back a little.

"N-not here," you protested, "someone could hear, or walk in."

"There's nowhere else to go, and I'm not waiting 'til Cyprus.  I need you now."

He kissed you again before you could respond, more forceful and desperate.  You let him work open your shirt this time, his fingers dancing over your skin as he pulled it off your shoulders and tossed it aside.  The feeling of him working your bra open made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but his tongue slipping into your mouth distracted you and before you knew it, it was gone as well.  Your nipples hardened in the cold air— or maybe they’d been that way already, for whatever reason— but they reacted even stronger to his thick fingers gently pinching them as his palms cupped your breasts.

You gasped against his mouth a bit, your breathing getting heavier as he moved his hands down to your trousers.  The idea of being naked when he was still fully-dressed scared you, but you didn’t have time to think about that anymore when he pulled back to drop to his knees, taking your pants and underwear to the floor with him.

He looked back up at you with a mischievous grin as you cautiously stepped out of them.  After guiding you to sit up on the table, neither of you stopping to consider how rude it was to put your bare ass on somebody’s desk in a borrowed ship, he slowly parted your legs.  As he kissed a trail inside your thigh, you felt your hands clutch the edge of the table tightly with anticipation.  You felt so exposed with his face right there, to the point that your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and yet you couldn't manage to tear your eyes away from his as he leaned in to lick you teasingly with the tip of his tongue.

"Fuck," you shivered, feeling your inner walls quiver as he moved so delicately.  You kept waiting for him to really get into it but he was determined to stay gentle and slow, circling your bud for one glorious moment before stopping again.  "Ari, please," you whispered without even realizing you’d said it.

"What do you want, baby?" he asked darkly, his voice deep and gravelly as he ran his hands up the back of your legs.

Your begging whimper was so pathetic you could hardly believe you were hearing yourself.  "More, please…"

He dove right in after that, suddenly latching onto your clit and letting his tongue explore every fold, every wrinkle, every sensitive spot with thick, wide licks.  Your head fell back and your hands jumped to weave into his hair— that gorgeous fucking hair that had driven you halfway insane.  It was soft between your fingers, and in this light you could see the touches of red, blonde, and maybe even grey scattered into the brunette.  Better yet was the way he moaned against you when you accidentally pulled it, your hands clenching into fists against his scalp each time he sucked on your clit just right.

"Ari, baby, fuck," you groaned, feeling your hips shift a little as if to try to get more of yourself in his mouth.

Sensation was sparking under your skin faster than you knew what to do with it, faster than you had ever figured out on your own, and definitely faster than anybody else had ever managed.  You felt your body shaking and couldn’t suppress it at all, every part of you (inside and out) quivering uncontrollably.  It would’ve been embarrassing except that he seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit, egging you on with his tight grip on your thighs, and his deep moans that reverberated over your body, and the way his brow furrowed like it almost pained him to see you like this.  Your back arched so dramatically that he had to hold onto your hips tight to keep you in his mouth, but he managed to maintain what he'd been doing— in fact, he didn't stop even when you started to whine and cry, feet digging into his back as you tried not to explode from the overstimulation on your sensitive clit.  

"S-stop, s'too much, can't take it," you pleaded, looking down at him.

He looked back up at you with dark, dilated eyes that said 'you're gonna take it.'  His tongue lapped at you with renewed vigor, sending you tumbling over the edge again and again and again.

Tears were streaming down your face when he finally relented, standing up slowly and staring you down as he wiped his face with the back of his hand; your arousal had coated his mouth and most of his beard, too.  You bit down on your lip to stop it from shaking as he slotted himself between your legs again, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and smiling as he watched your gaze trail down every inch of newly-exposed skin.

You knew he was in good shape, because it was always obvious, but you still shivered a little when you were greeted with chiseled muscles, dusty-blonde hair, a few stray freckles and scars, and last but not least, the gauze wrapping on his arm where you’d patched him up before.  It was nice to see a piece of your handiwork on something so flawless, like how it must feel to design the frame that holds a Monet.  Your mouth was even watering as you followed the trail of hair down to where it was interrupted by his jeans, which were misshapen with the unmistakable outline of his neglected cock.  Either you could actually hear it throbbing, or that was just your heartbeat in your ears as he made a show of undoing his buckle and fly slowly.  

A breath caught in your throat as he slid the jeans down and kicked them off with his boots, his cock bouncing up against the bottom of his abs once he’d freed it.  You hoped to hide your intimidation, but you must have failed from the way he smirked and licked his lips as he stepped forward and pressed it against your stomach; you felt a little dizzy seeing the head of it reach past your bellybutton.  "That's how deep I'm gonna be in you, baby."

For all his delicacy and tenderness in everything before now, he must have had a change of heart; with a little growl, he pushed all the way into you with one brutal thrust, watching darkly as your head fell back in a choked scream.  He didn’t stop for very long, either, setting up a pace that was slow but unyielding, his length filling every part of you and then some with each slam of his hips into yours.

He grabbed your hair tightly and suddenly, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him.  He licked and sucked along your pulse until you were shaking against him, nails accidentally digging into his shoulders a little bit as you held onto him.

His lips trailed up to pull you into a frenzied, sloppy kiss, your mouth slack wide for him to explore however he wanted.

"Tell me how it feels," he growled against your lips.

It feels like my body is on fire but I like it.  It feels like you're shaping my insides to fit you exactly how you want.  It feels like you might split me in half before you're done with me, but if you stop now I'll fall apart even worse.

His grip on your hair tightened at your lack of response.  "Gettin' fucked too good to answer me, huh?  So full of my cock you can't even speak.  Is that right, pretty baby?"

You nodded as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, your hoarse moans and sobs muffled by his skin.  

"Aw, poor thing," he purred, wrapping his arms around your back.  His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke to you in a deep mumble, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine with each word.  "You don't have to tell me, I know how it feels… you're so wet that you're fucking dripping, your needy little pussy is clamping down on me like it's the end of the fucking world, and you're screaming for me so loud I bet half the ship can hear you.  I know how it feels, baby; it feels so good that you're already about to come for me."

You gasped as he pushed you to lay back on the table, hoisting your legs up over his shoulders; you felt a bit whorish seeing your legs up in the air like that, especially when he leaned to the side to plant a wet kiss on your calf.

Soon he was letting your legs slip back down to his hips, leaning over you and caging you in with his thick arms, watching your face as he started to fuck you harder.  His long hair was at risk of tickling you as it fell down beside your face, but it was that Star of David necklace that was dangling from his neck and swinging right in your face with every thrust.  Slightly annoyed by it hitting your face from time to time, you stuck out your tongue to catch it, holding it between your teeth and finding that biting down on it helped you cope with the slight pain of him so deep inside you anyways.

"Baby," he moaned, inspired by the sight to grab your hips even tighter and slam into you even harder.  "Fuck, I'm close," he hissed.  "Gonna fill you up so good, baby, gonna ruin you for anybody else, huh?"

"Yes, Ari," you whimpered.  "I'm close, too…"

"Go ahead, pretty girl, wanna feel how tight you get when you come— when I make you come."

Trying to hold it back only made it hit you harder, and as your moans grew louder and your body began to shake, you felt your walls flutter and flex intensely.  He pulled his necklace out of your mouth and kissed you suddenly; it kept you grounded as you feared that the rest of you would float away, lost in pleasure so thoroughly that you'd never come back to reality.  His moans mixed with yours as they moved between your tongues, and just when you thought you'd break into pieces if he didn't slow down, you felt his movements stutter and his cock pump inside you.  You couldn't feel the warmth of it because you were already so hot all over, but the way his cock swelled as he came was unmistakable and overwhelmingly erotic.

He broke the kiss but didn't pull away, catching his breath while he stayed inside you, resting his forehead against yours.  

After cooling off for a moment, he scooped your limp body into his arms and lifted you into his chest; you wrapped around him and let him carry you to the other side of the room where he set you down on the pallet sleeping bags and blankets.  You whimpered as he pulled out, his softening cock still big enough to make you wince.  The gush of warm, sticky come made your cheeks burn even if it also sent a dulled tingle of arousal up your spine.  He was gentlemanly enough to wipe you off with a towel, mumbling something about how pretty you looked stuffed with his come, but you couldn't really focus on any of that because you were still waiting for sensation to return to your numbed extremities— brain included.

He turned his head and laid it on your chest, and you found yourself absent-mindedly scratching his scalp with your nails.

"That's nice," he whispered, but you could tell that already by the way his skin was erupting into goosebumps, and the way he held you tighter.

You must've laid like that for hours, or maybe it was just a few minutes, but it was one of those moments that felt like a piece of forever.  He lifted his head to look up at you, pulling you down a bit so his face hovered over yours.

"What's next for you after you get these women to Greece?" he asked quietly.

You chewed your lip as you thought about that.  "Back to DC, I figure, and then wherever they send me next.  I hear they might want me undercover in Cuba or Russia…"

"How often do you end up in Jerusalem?"

You squirmed a little beneath him, but he slipped his arm under your neck and pulled you closer; how were you supposed to think with his bicep right by your face like that?  "Uh, not often, but if I'm in town I'll give you a call—"

"Come with me," he requested softly.  "Get to Cyprus, go to Greece, and then meet me in Tel Aviv."

"Ari, I can't—"

"Why not?"

You laughed a little, but he clearly wasn’t joking.  "Because I have a job?"

"You won't need a job," he shrugged, "I make good money and you can just live with me."

Your throat went dry as you stammered, trying to figure out if he had seriously just asked you to quit your job and move in with him.

"You'll like Israel.  You speak some Hebrew don't you?"

"Uhh, yeah but—"

"Then what's stopping you?"

You couldn't answer because you didn't even know where to start with all the things that were stopping you.  Your mouth opened and closed silently like a fish out of water, and he laughed at you lightly.  

"Just say yes," he encouraged gently, and your heart twisted as you wondered if this was part of the deal, if you needed to do everything he wanted to keep him on your side.  You were on an Israeli ship, sailing international waters; if he changed his mind now, he could still sell you out and have these people arrested or worse.  But he wouldn't do that, right?

Perhaps the more important question was not 'would he do that?' but rather 'are you willing to find out?'

"Yes," you heard yourself answer before you even realized you were considering it.  

He grinned, hugging you tightly.  He was already rambling about how great it was going to be and how he would spoil you all the time and maybe find a way to get you hired as a contractor at Mossad so he could bring you along on missions, but you couldn't hear it past the ringing in your ears. You desperately needed sleep, and his arms were warm and welcoming as you drifted off.  He kissed your forehead before letting his eyes fall shut as well, joining you in unconsciousness.  

The swaying of the ship was like being rocked to sleep, so much so that you slept for an uncharacteristically long time: you were just a few hours out from your destination when you awoke, in fact.

Instead of getting up and attempting to acquire some food, you laid there staring up at the ceiling as his heavy arm draped over your chest.   Even in his sleep he had power over you, refused to let you go.  You tried to remember how you'd ended up in this situation but instead you found yourself fantasizing about a chance at love.  After running around the world for so long, there weren't many good men left to settle down with.  And Ari was maybe not an entirely good man, but you believed him when he said he would treat you well.  You'd shacked up with a lot worse in your time, when you were young and reckless and thought the worst thing you could be was alone.  Still, a long-suppressed desire for companionship was awakening in your mind and you weren't going to swallow it back down this time.  Smiling, you lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles.  If what he wanted in exchange for his cooperation was your affection, you could do that.

[shokobuns]

something sweet

maybe having someone to help you out in the stockroom wasn't so bad after all.

PAIRING: itadori yuuji x reader

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: almost stabbed, mentions of sharp things (boxcutters and broken glass), making out

it’s not like you had a problem with the same menial tasks everyday.

in fact, you would even say that it was a fun way to spend your free period. it was better than doing some complicated assignment or even having to talk to people with your lack of sleep and patience. coffee never allowed for a proper nap no matter how exhausted you were and your teacher wouldn’t allow that anyways.

it was an easy job that you could do with minimal help. all you had to do was put the beakers away, clean up the floor once in awhile, maybe pop some bubble wrap when new packages arrived. being alone in the stockroom was nice because you were able to turn on some music on your headphones, do whatever dances you felt like doing as long as you were still doing your job. no help was needed or wanted.

“where should i put this?”

you jump, nearly stabbing the blonde haired boy behind you with a boxcutter. luckily, he was quick, jumping backwards with a yelp as you took a deep breath in to process the situation. you didn’t accidentally hurt the boy in front of you, did you? your face falls and the initial rush of fear turns into guilt. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know you were there!”

“it’s okay,’ he responds with a smile, unphased by the fact his shirt had almost been slashed, ‘i understand. you’re probably here alone most of the time, right?”

“yeah, i wasn’t expecting for anyone else to be here,” you sigh before realizing what he had probably walked in on before the whole ordeal, “wait.. did you see me doing anything?”

“you’re a pretty good dancer if that’s what you’re asking.”

embarrassment. your cheeks feel unbelievably hot and your stomach turns while embarrassment settles in your body. this period was your alone time, your chance to flail about and having someone else witness it? definitely not preferable. although, he does seem nice and he hasn’t made fun of you. not yet, at least.

his voice brings you out of your train of thought. “so, where should i put that thing?”

he carries on as if nothing happened. thank god. “the flask goes in that cabinet, bottom shelf. you’ll see more just like it.” you reply, pointing to the space.

he mumbles a quick thank you before doing unloading more of the new flasks onto the cabinet. you work on your own, choosing to count the new magnets on the other side of the room, doing your best to avoid him considering you just embarrassed yourself in front of the stranger by nearly injuring him for asking a simple question. though, he looks slightly familiar, he’ll probably be gone tomorrow and that’s all that matters.

behind you, yuji takes small glances while he puts away the flasks, waiting for you to turn around and ask for his name. hell, he’s waiting for any type of question. after all, who sees a random boy in their work space and doesn’t question it at all?

when the next day comes, you’re proven wrong because he sits in the chair, awaiting another order from you. you curse under your breath before putting on a faux smile. “do you need help with anything?”

“do you need help with anything?”

“no, thanks. i’m good on my own. you can go back to whatever you do in this period.”

he scratches his head, eyebrows furrowing together. “i thought you needed help. that’s what my math teacher told me when he sent me here.”

“not really? i can usually get a lot done on my own. who told you i needed help?”

“gojo. i’m his teacher assistant, but i don’t know how to do the math he’s teaching, so i can’t really help anyone.” he explains

“oh, yeah! i had him for calculus last semester,” your eyes light up at the mention of your favorite white haired mentor, “weird guy. good teacher.”

wait. gojo’s teacher assistant?

you’ve heard your friends talk about him, given that they were in that exact class the blonde haired boy was supposed to be in right now. the one guy that pe teachers fawn over and coaches try to recruit? why did they put him in the math department instead of pe? what’s his name again? yuki? yugi?

“you’re yuji itadori?”

“yuji itadori.” he confirms and you’re relieved. good thing you didn’t mess up his name.

no wonder he looked familiar. miwa was fascinated by his physical ability, you distinctly remember her pointing him out during lunch and telling you about how he was ‘scarily fast’ and could probably ‘lift ten of her at a time.’ although, it was from far away and he was partially blocked by a girl with short brown hair and megumi, the intimidating spikey haired quiet boy in some of your classes.

but yuji didn’t look like someone who could lift ten miwas up close. maybe he was hiding behind the oversized hoodie he wore, but he was a kind looking boy with wide eyes and messy tufts of strawberry blonde hair. throughout the short time you’ve seen him up close, he always had a slight smile on his resting face. in short, he looked approachable and was seemingly friendly.

“so, do you need help with anything?” he asks again and you decide that maybe he can be of use to you. especially if he has the strength that miwa had described.

“actually, yeah. can you lift those boxes over there and bring them to the other side of the room? they’re kind of heavy-”

she was correct because he lifts the box, which is supposedly about thirty kilograms according to your teacher, with ease. now, you don’t have to constantly go back and forth around the room just to put the packaged metal away in a farther cabinet and he can probably just put them away himself, too. it goes that way for the next hour and a half, both of you staying in your respective sides of the room, putting away your own respective items.

“thanks, itadori.”

“call me yuji.”

“will do.”

over the next two weeks, you two don’t talk as much as yuji had hoped.

he still remembers gojo’s words of encouragement, his push to get his favorite student to talk to the person who drops off notes to the teacher across the hallway from time to time. he’s never talked to you and he doubts you would even know that he existed in the first place. in fact, he was perfectly content with just stapling the papers that gojo would give him, maybe getting his own homework done in the period, but he was insistent.

“i’ve seen you staring outside the window whenever they pass by, yuji. just talk to them.”

“it’s okay.’

“no it’s not. get to know her. what if they’re nice? hmmmmm?”

“i’ll talk to her myself at some point.”

that was all it took for gojo to leave him alone, not that he didn’t like gojo or anything, especially with gojo being his second favorite teacher in the first place, but he’s content with his little crush. and again, he doubted that you would remember him in your history class and from the looks of it, he was right.

he just didn’t expect to be sent at the very stockroom that you would be in. for the rest of the semester. gojo had definitely set him up for something.

yuji was in that conflicting position in which he didn’t know whether to start a conversation or not because he didn’t want to bother you. but he also wanted to get to know you up close. of course he can sense your exhaustion himself through droopy eyelids that threaten to close and your dependence on caffeine, something he had learned about you so far in these few weeks. the only thing, it seems like.

as for you, a short talk with your science teacher confirmed that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon and though you will miss dancing around the stockroom by yourself, he wasn’t bad company. he mostly kept to himself, often being more rigid when you barely spared him a glance. at the times you would speak to him, he seemed more excitable and easygoing, listening to every word you say.

“yuji?”

“hmm?”

“come help me by unboxing these beakers, alright?” you patted the spot next to you before sliding the blade down the tape, “don’t worry. i’m not gonna stab you.”

“i guess i’ll help,” he snorts, “don’t you usually do these by yourself?”

“yeah, but since you’re spending the semester with me in here, we might as well get to know each other right?”

the whirring of the fan, the sound of your voice — it all seemed to fade into the background as his heart thumped hard in his chest. a million thoughts, both good and bad, race through his head as he formulated different questions, answers, and scenarios in his mind, all of them being a jumble of fantasy and panic.

you wave a hand in front of his face in an attempt to catch his attention. he seemed completely frozen, staring at you with dead eyes and it’s now that you realize you haven’t seen him up this close. honey brown eyes, the soft curve of his nose, and were those crinkles under his eyes, too? up until now, you only knew him as the ‘athletic man who was bad at math’, but he was also undeniably beautiful with his carved face and strawberry blonde hair.

“yuuuuuuuji?”

“oh! i’m sorry! did you say you wanted to get to know me?”

“yeah, we’re kind of stuck in this room everyday for an hour and a half together. i might as well find out what your favorite color is or something.”

“red! my turn! what were you listening to when you almost stabbed me?”

“hey! it was an accident!” he giggles, slicing the tape seal down the middle and opening up the package and pointing right at it. “you see that? that could have been me. i should at least know what i’m being stabbed to.”

“meg thee stallion..”

“nevermind. she’s beautiful and i wouldn’t mind dying to her music.”

you snort, thinking up another question. maybe you should ask him about why that megumi guy was so gloomy? nope, might get too personal. what about the reason he’s here? nope, you already know.

“why don’t you do any sports even though you’re literally physically gifted?” you ask curiously. there’s still a smile on his face, but his expression becomes more wistful. you didn’t accidentally hit a spot, did you?

“my grandpa is in the hospital,” oh shit, you think, “i visit him everyday and if i was on a team, i would have to go to practice at the same time.”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hit a sensitive topic, but that’s sweet of you.’

“i don’t mind. and i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

“no, it’s alright. let’s just keep asking questions then, okay?”

he nods.

in one hour, you learn that yuji itadori also likes karaoke, rice bowls, and that he’s just as bad at science than math. ironic. and yuji enjoys getting to know more about you, falling into easy conversation, becoming less of a nervous wreck. the more you speak, the deeper he falls into the trance and he silently thanks gojo for letting him get a closer look because you’re even better than what he could have imagined.

but the period is coming to an end and it’s time for him to carry off the last box of beakers to his side of the room. at least there’s time for another question and it’s his turn to ask.

“what’s your type?”

you place your fingers on your chin as you think for a moment, finding a common trait in every crush for a proper answer.

“i guess my type would be sweet boys. with pretty faces, like you, i guess.”

the response is nonchalant and you don’t think twice about it. maybe you were a little too tired to process how he’d interpret it or maybe a little too tired to filter yourself, but it slips out of your mouth like butter and you’re completely unphased. shameless, even.

meanwhile, the box drops to the ground and like before, every other noise besides his own heartbeat fades into the background, even the sound of shattering glass. heat creeps of his neck into his cheeks until his face is burning, his feet stuck in their place and his palms becoming uncomfortably sweaty. his mouth is wide open, but no words come out.

“yuji! we need to clean this, hurry up!”

your voice brings him out of his thoughts as he realizes what’s been done and immediately snaps back to carefully, but quickly, picking up the shards of glass and placing them in this box. “i-i’m sorry!”

“don’t worry. just leave the box on the counter and we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

maybe you didn’t quite realize what you had said or what effect you had on him during that time in the stockroom because you continue everyday as if nothing happened.

it’s been, what? a little over a three weeks? and sitting next to you still causes his mind to go to odd places, ones with you. he starts to notice little things about you, too. how your tongue peaks out of your mouth when you’re peeling another sheet of bubble wrap off of some glassware, how you only count in even numbers when you take inventory of the containers.

god, you were adorable.

“yuji?”

“yeah?”

“did gojo ever tell you that there’s no cameras in here?”

“no? i thought they had security cameras everywhere.”

“that’s only hallways and classrooms. there’s none of them here. do you know what that means?”

“what?”

his head is already turned in your direction, the perfect opportunity to lean in and catch his lips. it’s small and he’s hesitant at first, but before you know it, your hands tangle in his hair, bringing him closer to you. he tastes like something sweet, like cherries, and his lips are warm. one hand rests on your cheek, his thumb brushing against it endearingly. when he pulls away, both of you are panting for air, the packages long forgotten.

“this sounds bad, but i’m glad that you’re terrible at math.”

“thanks.” he laughs and admires the look of your heated cheeks and swollen lips before pulling you back in for another searing kiss.

sure. being in that room by yourself could be fun, a perfect break with menial tasks lacking human interaction. you were far too tired to be patient with other people. but there was an exception.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost.

[bitch-for-bo]

Forever (Kageyama x chubby reader) (possessive Kageyama)

POST TIMESKIP

Kageyama is possessive. Rightfully so though, every where you went you attracted, no, demanded attention. You were beautiful, inside and out. And many days Kageyama wondered just how he was lucky enough to have been the one to catch your attention. You were his world, his angel, and whenever someone else tried to entertain the thought of being with you, he wasn't happy.

So sometimes he needed to show you that he belonged to you, and that you belonged to him.

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You watched as his chest rose and fell steadily with exertion. The sweat on his forehead was clearly visible and you could tell that his body was beginning to grow exhausted. You loved seeing this, everything about him when he was like this oozed power, from the way he stood, with his feet planted firmly with his muscular arms extended above him, to the look of overwhelming concentration on his face.

Your fiancé only got like this when he was playing volleyball, or when he was making love to you. It wasn’t something that he allowed others to see, saving it exclusively for his volleyball team and his loving partner. No one else got to see him like this because while it was when he was most concentrated, it was also when he was most vulnerable. When he played volleyball, he wore his feelings on his sleeve. It was as if he was trying so hard to control his physical state, that his emotions were left completely exposed.

Most days, this kind of passion on his face and in his movements, had the ability to take your breath away, and today was no different. The way that he practically glided across the court reminded you of a panther. You looked away, you could feel your body heating up as you watched Tobio play and the last thing you needed was to get aroused. You were here today to watch his practice and be a supportive girlfriend, nothing more nothing less.

Of course, the only person on the all-Japan team that knew you were Tobio’s partner, was Hinata, Kageyama’s volleyball partner and best friend (Besides you of course). Seeing as they were best friends, Tobio hadn’t been able to keep you a secret for very long. It had only been a month into the two of you dating when Hinata had finally figured it out, and you reckoned that you would’ve been found out slightly faster if it was anyone other than Hinata.

Seeing as only Hinata knew, Tobio had asked you to keep the PDA to a minimum. It’s not that he was embarrassed to be with you, very much the opposite. He felt that if his teammates knew of your existence, your beauty and naturally charismatic personality would draw them in much closer than he would allow any of them to be. You had decided to oblige because while it was sometimes fun to rile Tobio up, you really didn’t want to deal with his possessive side at the moment.

As soon as you had calmed down slightly, you looked back to the court to find that all of the players were now laying on the gym floor stretching. You decided that it would probably be okay if you walked down the bleachers and waited near the gym doors, it’s not like you were going to disturb the already-over-practice.

As you walked down the stairs, your eyes caught Hinata’s, who was currently leaning onto Kageyama as he sat on the gym floor, assisting him as he stretched.

“Look! It’s Y/N!” he shouted, one of his hands leaving Kageyama’s back as he reached up and waved to you, a bright smile taking over his face.

You smiled and waved back, hoping that his comment wasn’t loud enough to draw the attention of either the coaches or the other players. You really didn’t need the extra attention or even possibly a scolding.

Down on the court, Kageyama reached up behind him to swat Hinata on the back of the head, causing the redhead to let out a surprised yelp and glare down at his friend.

“Shh,” Kageyama hissed, “I don’t want anyone knowing about my relationship you dumbass.” His voice was hushed yet didn’t lack his usual biting tone.

“Why?” Hinata asked, his curiosity causing him to completely forget about the fact that Kageyama had just hit him. “They would love Y/N!” He beamed.

The first time that Hinata had met you, he could think nothing other than the thought that Kageyama had struck the lottery with you. You were everything that anyone could ever want. You had a sweet, patient personality (necessary to deal with Yama’s awkwardness and mood swings), you were incredibly smart, and to top it all off, you were one of the most gorgeous women that Hinata had ever seen.

Hinata remembered exactly what you were wearing the first time that he’d met you. It was during the summertime, it was actually at the wedding of one of Hinata and Kageyama’s mutual friends. Hinata could remember how Kageyama had reacted when they found out that each quest was encouraged to bring a plus one. He had been shocked that Kageyama had been so calm about the situation, usually, his best friend would freak out at the thought of having to plan out having a guest with him. As soon as Kageyama had simply agreed with the plus-one invitation, Hinata had known something was up, and pretty soon, Kageyama told him about you and told him that he’d be able to meet you at the wedding.

It was a summer wedding and it was outdoors. You had chosen to wear a very simple, light lilac summer dress. You were always careful when you went to weddings to follow the proper etiquette, not wearing a color too close to white, matching the dress with nude heels that were no higher than 2 inches. Unfortunately, you had never been a small woman so even in 2-inch heels you ended up towering over the bride. Luckily, you only saw her when Kageyama went to greet his friend and congratulate him.

It had been almost sunset when Hinata had met you, and with all of the times that he himself had been compared to the sun, he couldn’t help but see you as the purest definition of the star. The way that the orange-pink sky lit up your face as Kageyama introduced you to him, nearly left him breathless. That along with the way that your light, flowy dress hugged and accentuated your breasts and hips, managed to make Hinata develop a blinding crush on you (much to his dismay).

Thankfully, over time, Hinata realized that while you were incredibly beautiful and kind, he saw you as nothing more than a friend as well as the girlfriend of his best friend (although sometimes he would still find himself slightly jealous that Kageyama had managed to snatch you for himself).

Kageyama just pushed Hinata off of him and stood up.

“That’s the problem.” he whisper-shouted at the redhead. He didn’t want any of his teammates to notice you, you were his to view and his only.

“Ahhh…” Hinata nodded, knowing all too well of Kageyama’s possessive tendencies. A smug look came over his face as he hurried to catch up to Kageyama, who was walking towards you on the side of the court. “Your stingy side is showing Kageyama.”

Kageyama just rolled his eyes as he finally came to stand in front of you.

He smiled down at you, a light blush painting his face as he tried to regain his cool. He couldn’t help but get a little starstruck each time he saw you. You were so so stunning that he almost had to pinch himself to remind himself that this wasn’t a dream, that you were really his.

And the same went for you. To you, everything about Tobio was perfect and nothing had more rewarding to you than watching your fiance go from the awkward, stumbling 21-year-old he was when you had met him to the brilliant man that stood before you. Over the last 3 years, you’d had the honor of getting to watch your boyfriend truly flourish.

“Hey,” you said, grinning up at your boyfriend, careful to deny the urge to jump into his arms and hug his sweaty form.

He just grinned right back at you, his blush only growing as he fought his own urges to lean down and take a kiss from you.

“Hey,” he replied, “Thank you for coming, I know it must’ve been boring for you.”

“What?” you scoffed, your eyes widening at the ridiculous statement. “I love watching you play.” The genuine excitement in your voice made Kageyama blush even harder.

“Aww, what about me Y/N don’t tell me you were only focusing on stupid Kageyama!” Hinata whined, slinging one of his arms up and around your shoulders.

“Of course not, you did great Hinata” You complimented, knowing that Hinata was probably the only other player that you could complement without Tobio getting fussy.

Hinata picked your hand up, inspecting your engagement ring.

“Really is a shame you’re wasting your life on this idiot though.” he tutted, before giving you a quick kiss on the side of the head and running back onto the court.

“Ignore him.” Tobio scowled, earning a light giggled from you.

“You know I usually do.” You assured. “So, when will you be home?” you asked quietly, making sure that no one could possibly hear.

“Well I think the team wanted to go out tonight...so…”

You nodded, the whole team had been working so hard lately, they deserved some off time.

“Okay baby,” You smiled, “since you’re going out with friends, I might call my girlfriends up and have a night out myself.”

Kageyama nodded. He loved how easy going you were. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you.

“Be careful and have fun.”

“You too,” you said. He gave you one last love-filled glance before turning and going back onto the court, probably on his way to the locker rooms.

You turned and left, fishing your phone out to call your friends.

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

The music at the club was loud, and the flashing lights were almost intense enough to give you a headache. It was also almost overwhelmingly hot in the club as well, which had led you and your friends to take a break. You all had decided to cool down, so you went and ordered a couple of rounds from the bar.

Seeing as you had been at the club for at least 30 minutes already (and did some pregaming before) you and your friends were a bit more than tipsy. Still, you didn’t have work tomorrow and Kageyama didn’t have practice so both of you were going to be able to sleep in as long as you like.

Right after you had put your order in with the bartender you looked towards the entrance of the club, your jaw hitting the floor in surprise.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, how unlucky was this?

“What?” your friend asked, her eyes trying to follow yours across the club.

“Look” you replied, pointing your finger towards the entrance where nearly all of the all-japan team members stood.

“Damnnn... “your friend gasped, “too bad you have a fiance bitch…”

You scoffed, pushing her into the side of the bar. Your eyes went straight back to the entrance, scanning the men as you looked for a familiar stoic face.

“You idiot! That is my fiance. That’s him and his team!” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at your friend who just gaped at you.

“You never told me he had hot friends! I hate you!”

You just laughed. You really wanted to approach your fiance and greet him, but you also knew that without the distraction of practice, it was more likely for some of his other teammates to see you. So you settled with turning your back to the team, hoping that Hinata hadn’t seen you because you knew that if the rambunctious redhead caught sight of you, he would definitely approach you.

For the next couple of minutes, you tried to form a plan on how you could avoid the team, it was a fairly large club so you were pretty sure that it was possible for both of your groups to co-party without crossing paths.

Little to your knowledge, Hinata had already caught sight of you and snuck away from Kageyama and the team so he could greet you. He would tell Kageyama that you were at the club after he said hi to you, otherwise, Kageyama wouldn't allow him to draw any possible attention to you.

You were still trying to think of all of the possible problems with your plan whenever you felt a strong arm wrap around your shoulders. You quickly turned towards the arm with your fist raised, ready to put a handsy bastard in his place.

“Woah! Hey there!”

“Hinata!” you scowled. As soon as you saw him, all of your hope of having a stress free night disappeared. You wondered how he could be so reckless, how dare he blatantly walk up to you!

“Sorry!” He said smiling, his arm unhooking itself from around your body as he leaned against the bar, trying to kind of block you from the team. Despite what you and Kageyama thought, he wasn’t a complete idiot.

“It’s fine… it’s not like I was going to be able to avoid you anyways..” you sighed, resting your chin against your palm in a pout.

“Wait,” Hinata said, “you already knew that we were here? I thought I was doing you a favor by telling you.”

You smiled at the sweet sentiment, before nodding.

“Yeah, I saw you guys when you came in.”

Hinata nodded. Of course, you had noticed, you never failed to impress him with your observation skills. God knows that if you hadn't had good observation skills, you never would’ve realized that Kageyama was flirting with you when the two of you had met.

The bartender came back and set the screwdriver that you’d ordered in front of you. You nodded in thanks before taking a large sip.

“What’re you gonna do?” He asked, yanking the beverage away from you and stealing a bigger than polite gulp.

“We can avoid each other as long as I and my friends stay at the opposite side of the dancefloor and stuff.” You said, swatting at the back of his head as he went in for another drink.

“Ahh,” he said, taking two more gulps and finishing the drink. “Well, good luck!” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before walking away from the bar, most likely to go back to his teammates before suspicions rose.

You simply flipped him off as he left, but before you could order a new drink, a new hand wrapped around your arm.

“Hey Y/N let’s go back to dancing!” Your friend said, trying to drag you to the dancefloor. You glanced towards Kageyama’s group, noticing that they had kind of dispersed, some of them staying at the side tables, others heading to the bar, and a few headed towards the dancefloor.

You decided that you liked those odds, and it was probably okay for you to relax a little.

You and your friends returned to dancing, trying to stay towards the middle of the floor. It might seem a little counterintuitive, but being in the middle of the dancefloor meant it was easier to blend in and become just another body in the mass.

At least something about this night was going right, the music the club was playing was probably the best mix you’d heard playing in there in the last couple of visits. Your group was having the times of their lives as you focused on having fun and moving to the music. You could feel the stresses of the week melting away with the music and alcohol when suddenly, a pair of electric blue eyes met yours.

You stopped moving, you couldn’t tell if your heart was beating because of the dancing or if it was the striking look of your fiance looking at you from across the club.

Kageyama must’ve gone home when you weren’t there and changed. He was dressed simply in a dark blue button-down and black slacks but you couldn’t help the shiver that ran through your spine as your body grew hot.

You could tell from the look on his handsome face that he wanted to approach you, but before he could take a step, one of his teammates, a man nearly as tall as Kageyama with bleached blonde hair, slapped him to the shoulder before starting to talk to him about something.

Kageyama broke eye contact with you, turning his face to talk to Atsumu. But neither his heart nor his mind was in the conversation as he couldn’t help but try and sneak glances back out across the club, searching for the figure of his fiance.

After only a couple of seconds of searching, his eyes found you once again and he had to stop himself from letting out a groan.

You were intentionally swinging your hips in the most inviting ways possible, making sure to give Kageyama a nice show. The security of him being across the club meant that you could behave like this and have it be completely within the rules. After all, none of his teammates were watching you dance, only him.

You could feel Tobio’s eyes on your ass as you swing your hips around to the song playing over the club. Since your back was facing your boyfriend, he wasn’t able to see the teasing smirk on your lips as you ground your hips in a circle.

Your body was heating up more and more by the second, you could almost feel his body beneath you as you drew circles with your hips, throwing your head slightly back and rolling it around, exposing the flesh of your neck for his viewing pleasure.

Kageyama was barely keeping a grip on himself as Atsumu continued to talk to him, the blonde had pulled Kageyama into a conversation with him and Kiyoomi, not knowing anything of the battle occurring between Kageyama and his beautiful girlfriend (whom the team still didn’t know existed).

He was having trouble focusing as you danced. He knew that you were acting this way just to tease him, and he also saw that purely by coincidence, you were wearing one of his favorite dresses. The way that the dark red dress hugged your figure was enough to drive him crazy. Even from his position across the club, he could see the way that your breasts and ass were on perfect display, as well as the soft bounce of your thighs as you continued to move.

His legs were twitching with the urge to go and shield you from everyone else in the club. He knew that you didn’t mind people watching you dance, but he did and he could already see several male glances glued to your body. But despite how much he hated all of those men staring at you, he couldn’t blame them. You were almost ethereal in the way that you commanded attention with your movements. Your confidence oozed out of you, attracting and drawing the attention of almost everyone within a 10-foot radius.

He almost growled as he saw you wink at him before shaking your ass at him, he knew that you were aware that he couldn’t approach you and obviously you were having great fun making him miserable.

He felt himself getting hard, and he knew that he needed to stop watching. Hopefully, if he stopped watching, you would stop dancing like that.

He shot one last glance your way, a glance that said ‘you’ll get your punishment later’ and made you clench your thighs.

You just laughed as he turned away. You knew that it was mean to act like this, but you just couldn't help it. Plus, no harm no foul.

“Y/N!” You head a shout behind you, turning to find Hinata. “Dance with me Y/N!” he asked his eyes like an excited child.

You only laughed in response, before stepping towards him and beginning to dance (much more innocently)

You and Shoyou danced for at least ten minutes, just having fun and laughing. Seeing as Kageyama rarely danced, you were grateful that he had such an energy-filled best friend. After a couple of more songs, you both decided that it was once again time for a drink break, and went to the bar together.

After demanding it of him, Hinata bought you a drink to make up for the one he had stolen earlier but as soon as the bartender set it down in front of Hinata, a hand popped out and stole it before you had the chance to claim it.

“So Shoyou, this is where you’ve been sneakin’ off all night?”

You glanced around Hinata to see the blonde that was talking to Kageyama earlier. Hinata gave a small awkward laugh, his eyes glancing to yours apologetically.

“Hey, Atusumu..”

“So….” Atsumu drawled, walking around Shoyou to get a better look at you, “this yer girlfriend Shoyou?” You could feel his eyes glancing down your body, causing your face to heat up and embarrassment begin to rear its ugly head.

Atsumu really was quite handsome, you thought. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered as he eyed you hungrily.

“Haha,” Hinata chuckled nervously, his hand resting itself protectively on your upper back. “No, just a friend.”

“Just a friend….whatta relief thought I was gonna have to steal your girl from ya…”

It was your turn to laugh nervously as Atsumu leaned across the bar to order a drink.

Atsumu was glad that you weren’t Shoyou’s girlfriend. Ever since the first time Hinata had snuck away from them, he had seen the redhead approach you, and ever since then, you had been caught in the crosshairs of his sight.

He couldn’t help but admire you from across the club, the way that your dress complimented your plush body was something that he’d been practically drooling over all night. He could only imagine how soft you were underneath the lovely material, he’d noticed the way that as you had walked to the bar with Hinata, the dress had slipped slightly up your thighs, exposing the supple curve of your legs.

With as flattering as the attention from the blonde setter, you knew that you needed to leave. Your plan to avoid the team had clearly failed and you had decided just to take the loss and call it a night.

“Well,” you said, stepping away from the bar to make your quick escape, “I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick.” It wasn’t completely a lie, you were actually going to go to the bathroom, you were just gonna leave the club right after.

“Promise to come right back?” Atsumu grinned, leaning slightly closer to you.

“How about this,” you drawled back, deciding that the best way to get him off your back at the moment would be to lie your ass off and promise to meet him later, “I’m here with my friend right now, I’m gonna make sure that she has a good time before I worry about myself, so, why don’t you try to find me in about an hour, then maybe you’ll have a chance.” You had leaned towards Atsumu as well until the two of you were only inches apart.

“Deal,” he said, his hands itching to attach to your waist, you were so close…

“See ya then” you smirked, throwing him a wink before sauntering off to the bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind you, you let out the breath that you’d been holding.

‘Fuck’ you thought, ‘ Kageyama is not going to be happy.’

But it’s not like you had a choice. In fact, you thought that you had handled the situation pretty well. Hopefully, Atsumu would get drunk and forget about the whole ordeal.

Once you’d regained yourself, you pulled out your phone and called your friends to tell them that you were going to head home. They whined a little but eventually understood that you’d made up your mind.

Now all that was left was to sneak out without looking super unnatural.

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

“Yeah, that’s her,” Atsumu said cockily to the table, causing Kageyama to clench his fists in an attempt to calm himself.

He couldn’t believe that he’d been so careless in letting you out of his sight. He couldn’t believe that he was so unlucky that his teammate made a move on you…..well….. He could believe that. With as enrapturing as you were, it was impossible for someone not to try and approach you. He was just unhappy that it had to be Atsumu.

The blonde had come sauntering back to the area that the team had been inhabiting and had begun to brag about the promise that you’d made him. Of course, at first, Kageyama hadn’t known that it was you who Miya was talking about, but soon Hinata had timidly whispered in his ear, just what the situation was. Kageyama couldn’t even be mad at Hinata, after all, he knew that the over-exuberant spiker couldn’t help it.

The team had only seen you briefly, you were walking into the crowd, trying to get to the exit. As soon as you had ducked into the mass of people, thankfully, none of them could see you leave the building.

After you’d disappeared, a couple of members of the team made comments on your body, congratulating or teasing Atsumu over what they deemed to be a hopeless endeavor, telling him that he didn’t stand a chance.

All of the comments made Kageyama livid, but at the same time, it made him feel totally victorious that he was the one who would get to go home to you later. He didn’t like the way that they were talking about you, and soon the possessive side of him couldn’t stand to stay and listen.

He and a couple of the guys went over to the bar and got a couple of drinks, all of them thankful to be away from the more rambunctious members of the team who were still either conversing at the table or springing around on the dancefloor.

As he sipped his drink, Kageyama couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to you. That dress was truly one of his favorites. The way that you looked in it never failed to distract him, and when he’d seen you in it earlier, he’d almost forgotten how to breathe.

He couldn’t wait to go home to you. He wondered if you had already showered and gone to bed yet, it was a shame that he wasn’t the one to strip that dress off of you, but he was hoping that you’d replaced it with one of his shirts, or even nothing at all.

He set his drink down. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, he needed to see you, to hold you.

He passed back by the team on his way out, coming up with some lame excuse of feeling too tired to continue the night, getting teased by Bokuto that he was secretly taking someone home, which wasn’t completely off base.

As he walked out of the club into the cool night air, he thought of how you had been dancing earlier, the way that your eyes had flitted to his before you would expose your neck to him, or how you would drag your fingers down your sides, outlining your perfect shape for him as you danced.

‘ Fuck’ he thought, ‘I’m hard.’

He hailed a cab, eager to get home to you. Soon, he was opening the door to your apartment and walking inside. He quickly removed his shoes, eager to find you and wrap you in an embrace. But halfway down the hallway to your bedroom, he stopped.

“Fuuuuckkk….” he heard the high pitched moan drift out of the closed door, the sound going straight to his dick as he anticipated the sight awaiting him. Your moans continued to grace his ears as he slowly peeked in the door, avoiding making any noise so that he could watch you silently.

He found you with your back to him, kneeling on the bed as you pressed a vibrator against yourself. You had shed all of your clothes, leaving your skin bare to his eyes, every goosebump and shiver completely visible to his hungry gaze.

He silently approached you, working his belt off of his hips as he walked. When he got close enough to you, he cleared his throat appreciatively, his dick hardening when your head dropped back to look at him.

God, you looked so good for him. Your eyes were watering and from where he stood, he had the perfect view of your pretty tits as well as a view of the little pink toy vibrating against your already soaked pussy.

Suddenly, your mouth dropped open and another string of moans came out. Kageyama raised his hand to your cheek, his gentle fingers caressing your face, carefully pushing the sweaty wisps of hair that were sticking to your temples. His heart lurched as you looked up at him, your teary eyes filled with love. He looked right back down at you in adoration, not believing how lucky he was that he was yours.

“How long did you have to wait for me baby?” he asked his voice calm despite the furious blush gracing his face.

“....not long…” you whimpered, your insides twisting as your fiance slowly leaned down to join his lips with yours. You almost cried into the kiss, the warm feeling of his mouth against yours making the last couple of hours of torture completely worth it.

“You looked so sexy tonight baby.” Kageyama praised as he leaned away, allowing you to catch your breath after the searing kiss. He sat on the edge of the bed before running his hand down your body from your breasts to your naval before wrapping around your hand that was currently holding the vibrator.

He took the toy away from you, making you whine pathetically at the loss of contact.

“ Shhh… ” He hushed you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he stood up again. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, but first I want you to suck me for a bit” He unbuttoned his slacks before letting them drop to the floor.

Your eyes hungrily made their way across his powerful thighs, your mouth practically watering at the sight of the thick muscle that laid underneath his dark boxer briefs. You looked up at Kageyama, moaned lightly as he began to work on unbuttoning his shirt with his long, graceful fingers.

You wanted those fingers inside of you, you thought, keening at the mental image of getting stretched out by Tobio before he filled you with his cock.

You quickly sunk down to your knees and pulled his underwear down his thighs, biting your lower lip almost painfully as his hardening dick popped out. You drooled at the sight, Kageyama had to of had one of, if not the prettiest cocks in the world. The way that the hot appendage stood proudly, long and thick with a gorgeous vein running halfway up the length put art to shame. The slight upward curve made him fit perfectly in your hand, made it perfect for rocking into your fist as you got him off.

“ Please …” he whispered, and that was all it took for you to eagerly wrap your lips around his cock, your hand twisting gently at the base.

“ Shit ,” Kageyama grunted, throwing his head back at the sudden sensation of the warmth of your mouth surrounding him. He threaded his fingers into your hair as he gently guided your head down onto his cock.

“You take me so good,” he mumbled, his praises going straight to your clit as you moaned out around his dick, your fingernails raking down the fronts of his thighs as you gripped onto the muscles.

You were slowly building your pace up, going from giving the tip of his cock small, hot licks, to taking him as far down your throat as you could muster.

Kageyama was putty beneath your fingertips, his whole body felt like it was on fire as you worked him just like he liked to be worked. He could feel himself starting to lose his control over himself as the overwhelming urge to fuck you silly started to creep up his spine.

“Fuck baby,” he breathed as you swallowed him into your throat again, relaxing around the thickness as best as you could, he knew that he was close, “ keep going, baby… .”

Your pussy only clenched harder at his encouraging words as you quickened your pace, trying desperately to make him cum. One of your hands left his thighs to lightly grip his balls, the light touch pushing him that much nearer to the ledge.

“ Ooh fuck….. Please….wanna cum in your pussy baby” he moaned, his fingers sweeping the hair across your forehead as he looked down at you with blown-out pupils.

All you had to do was nod before Kageyama pulled his cock out of your mouth and hoisted you up onto the bed. He leaned over you, claiming your lips in a searing embrace as he ran the tip of his cock against your pussy, making you moan at the feeling of his pulsing cock against your lips.

“ Please Tobio …” you begged, your legs wrapping around his hips in an attempt to pull him inside of you.

After pumping his cock a couple of times in his hand, Kageyama lined himself up with your opening, before easing himself in.

All it took was feeling your tight walls wrapped around him for him to lose himself, his hot cum spurting into you as he buried his face into your neck, licking and sucking at the flesh as he gently rode out his high, careful not to thrust into you too hard seeing as you hadn’t been properly stretched.

“ Tobio ….” you breathed, the feeling of his seed inside of you making you yearn for him to breed you that much stronger. “ Please...fuck me Tobio… ”

“ Shhh… ” he soothed, trying to pull out of you as carefully as possible, groaning at the lewd squelch that your pussy made.

He crawled down your body until his face was level with your cunt, his fingers spreading the lips of your pussy apart as he inspected the sight of his cum leaking out of your hole, groaning at the incredibly sexy display.

Timidly, his tongue poked out of his mouth and prodded at your clit, pulling a high pitched whine from your lungs as your fists gripped the sheets underneath you.

Kageyama wrapped his mouth around your clit, sucking the little bud into his mouth as his fingers began to prepare you, scooping his cum up and fucking it back into you.

“So good for me baby…. You’re being so good for me aren’t you?”

“ Yes!” you cried, your hips trying to grind down onto the digits that were fucking into your dripping cunt far too slow for your liking. “Please give me your cock.”

Tobio decided to indulge you, crawling back up your body and realigning himself with you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby.” he groaned, his hips slowly pushing into you until he bottomed out.

You were being reduced to a whimpering mess with the feeling of being so completely full of your boyfriend. You wrapped your arms around his back, your chest pressing against his as he began to thrust into you with slow, calculated movements.

“ Please …” you sighed, your hips bucking desperately as you tried to coax him to go faster.

As Kageyama stared down at your blissed-out face, he could only thank god that you were his. After seeing how his teammates ogled over you, how much you were desired, he could help but feel like the luckiest man alive as he buried himself deeper into you, your walls clenching deliciously around him.

“ Fuck baby… . No one else can fuck you like this but me….” He groaned, his hips beginning to snap in and out of you a little bit faster.

You almost cried at the change in pace as you nodded and babbled out, “ yes, you fuck me so good, only you… ”

Tobio continued to thrust into you, whispering praises and compliments into your ear as he pounded into you, telling you how good you felt around him, how lucky he was to have you all to himself.

He could feel your end approaching as he reached down and began to circle your clit, taking the small bud between his thumb and index finger and rolling it, causing your eyes to roll back into your head.

“Fuck! Tobio!” you cried, your fingers digging into his shoulders, “...m’ gonna cum…”

Kageyama’s head rested in the crook of his neck as his thrust quickened even further, he could feel his second high rising within him as well.

With a few more thrusts of his hips, he had you crying as you came on his cock, milking his second load of the night into you.

Kageyama stayed inside of you even after you both came down from your highs. You keened in the feeling of being stuffed full of his cum, his cock acting as a stopper to keep any of it from leaking out.

If you had your way, he would never pull out, you would never have to let go of this full feeling.

“Wanna stay in you forever.” He mumbled against your skin, his cock twitching as small aftershocks rocked through your pussy, surprising him with small squeezes every few seconds.

“Ok.” you giggled, wrapping your arms around him happily.

He let himself indulge for a few minutes before deciding that he wanted to inspect his work, he went back down to be eye level with your pussy, once again groaning at the sight of his cum along with your juices seeping out of your puffy hole.

“ No please. .” you gasped in surprise as his fingers started shoveling the cum back into your hole, pressing against the spongey texture of your g-spot with every thrust.

“Come on baby….” he encouraged, his fingers going from 0 to 100 as he mercilessly finger fucked you. “Give me one more orgasm, K?”

You nodded, there were tears in your eyes and your thighs were twitching as the sting of overstimulation took over your pussy. You knew that Kageyama would never push you too far, you knew that he only wanted to make you feel good.

Your second orgasm took you by surprise, the high ripping through your body as you began to convulse against your fiance’s fingers.

“Tobio!” you squealed, your hands flying down to his wrists, trying to stop the digits from continuing to fuck you through your high, you could feel yourself creaming all over the sheets and his teeth bit into your thighs.

“ Good girl ….” he growled as he replaced his fingers with his tongue, lapping up your juices as your body went limp against the bed. He pulled away, his chin glistening with your cum as he smiled adoringly down at you.

After a moment’s rest, he climbed off of the bed, leaning over and lifting you into his arms. He carried you to the bathroom and sat you down on top of the counter before retreating to the shower to turn it on.

When he returned to you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, enjoying the feeling of your plush, orgasm-rocked body against him.

“You did so well for me…..” he whispered into your skin, “I love you so much…”

You mewled at his words, your nose nestling against his hair as your own arms returned the gesture of wrapping around him.

Once the shower warmed up, he put both of you under the steady flow, the hot droplets relaxing you as you melted back against his chest while he contently washed your body.

Tobio looked down at you.

“You know all of my teammates wanted to take you home tonight…”

You hummed in response, only half-listening to your fiance as you continued to bask in your post-orgasm glow.

“I almost had to tell that you belong to me,” he continued, running his fingers across your body, lathering soap against your skin.

You hummed again.

“Tell me who you belong to baby,” he whispered, turning you around in his arms.

You looked up at him with a sweet smile on your face, your fingers coming up to thread through his soft wet hair. You leaned up and placed a sweet kiss against his jawline before resting your head into his chest, hearing the gentle thudding of his heartbeat.

“Tobio Kageyama,” you stated, “I am completely yours.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[nugnthopkns]

i’ll wait and i’ll listen

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it

recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap

a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!

There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.

He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it. 

Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world. 

Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years. 

Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier. 

Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps. 

“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”

Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”

Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong. 

☼☼☼☼

You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence. 

“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open. 

“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”

She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”

You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance. 

Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought. 

“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet. 

You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.” 

The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother. 

Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”

He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”

Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up. 

Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard. 

Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”

Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away. 

In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”

Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”

In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food. 

Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words. 

There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake. 

“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind. 

They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories. 

You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”

“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”

It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen. 

☼☼☼☼

“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”

You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”

A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”

You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.

“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness. 

You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”

The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[masterthespianduchovny]

Let’s talk about this Nate and Rebecca comparison again. 😊

There is a reason why I forgave Rebecca and why I’ll forgive Nate if he has the same introspection and emotional beats that she did surrounding the apology sequence.

Keeley gives Rebecca an ultimatum. “Either you tell Ted or I will.”

So the pressure to own up to the clusterfuck she created was there. It was time sensitive and she stood to lose a friend if she didn’t comply.

Rebecca calls Ted into her office saying that she’ll get straight to the point and not procrastinate while ironically doing neither.

We see this is difficult for her. It’s clear that she cares a lot for Ted and is realizing how much she stands to lose—not just her image, but Ted as friend as well, which is why she loses her nerve and sends him away.

Then Rupert comes in and drops a bomb, he and Bex are expecting. He dresses up this revelation as kindness and compassion opposed to callousness and cruelty. That he came to tell her face to face to watch her become distraught in real time. He revels in her pain. He wants to be the cause of it.

And the thing is: they both know this.

They both know he’s not trying to soften the blow of the new, but rather, add to it.

Rupert tries to frame her as hysterical. He tries to make her feel not good enough to have his child. Something he emotionally manipulated her into not having. A discussion they probably had for years, which he made her feel bad about.

Only to impregnate a younger woman and deem her “worthy” of having his child.

And he does hurt her.

We see the tears and the understanding as to how vile and evil is in Rebecca’s face. We see the understanding that Rupert gets off on emotionally harming her.

In that moment, Rebecca decides that she’s not going to be Rupert, she’s not going to end up like him. She’s not going to get off on others misery even if it’s his. It’s not her and so many people have gotten hurt, or could’ve, in the process.

Although she wants to keep ted in her life, as her friend, he has a right to know what she did. He has a right to quit and go the press. She’s not justified in what she’s done to Ted just because Rupert harmed her. And harming all of those people in the process just to hurt Rupert wasn’t right.

Rebecca sheds her fears and owns why she did because she doesn’t have the right to be shielded from Ted’s rightful anger. She doesn’t have the right to shield herself from something that is long overdo. She doesn’t have the right to take solace in a friendship that she feels she doesn’t deserve.

She deserves whatever Ted throws at her.

So she goes to face Ted and doesn’t justify or excuse her actions. There is not only remorse, there is also ownership of her actions. She doesn’t ask to be spared, plea for anything, beg, or influence Ted to take it easy on her.

In fact, she expects him to quit and tell the press, which she expects to weather after he airs our her dirty laundry.

And you know what, she was 100% prepared to accept accountability and responsibility for her actions.

Now this doesn’t erase the harm she did, but 1. Rebecca expressed remorse 2. She apologized 3. She was accountable 4. She didn’t try to influence him to forgive her and didn’t expect him to. 5. She gave him the space and freedom (no crowd) to make whatever decision he felt was appropriate even if she suffered massive consequences, which would’ve been deserved.

To be far to Nate, he’s in the middle of his story. So he didn’t have the same gut punch moment. We’ll see what that looks like at the end of the season.

What we get is Beard calling him out for what he said to Colin, Nate wondering if Ted knows, and being told to apologize.

I must note that Nate doesn’t appear to be remorseful about what he said, he just doesn’t want to get in trouble with Ted. Even if you argue that either Nate shouldn’t have to apologize to Colin since Colin used to bully him or that their relationship is too complicated to get to that point yet, Nate is still one of Colin’s coaches. If Nate isn’t mature enough to separate their history from their current relationship, he shouldn’t be a coach.

Remember, Roy was literally called out about this an episode or two ago and immediately corrected his behavior when called out by Ted. He cannot be a coach and selectively coach players. It doesn’t work that way.

Nate not only doesn’t give Colin the space and freedom to process his apology, the apology was insincere. There is no reckon king, reflection, or sincerity in his words. He’s apologizing because he has to and not because he means it.

The thing is: Nate should’ve apologized for allowing their past history interfere for his coaching responsibility and acknowledged that Colin did emotionally and physically hurt him, but it’s something he’s working to move past to be great at his job.

However, the person who really deserved the apology was Will and that’s what further highlights the entire charade. More so than Colin, Will deserved the apology and to be treated with respect. He deserves not to yelled at, afraid, and not to go to work at a hostile environment.

Instead, Nate further focuses on Will and his hostility increases.

Again, we are at the middle of Nate’s story, so anything can happen. But don’t get mad at me for using this comparison when I wasn’t the one who made it. Rather than people mentioning how Rebecca was forgiven for the fucked up shit she did, people should’ve said, “look at where Rebecca was around the half way mark in the first season and look at where she was in the finale; even though it looks bad, Nate still has time to turn this around.”

Instead people want to say, “y’all forgave Rebecca and Jamie for worse shit.”

Rebecca and Nate’s apologies are vastly different. After Rebecca apologized to Ted, she went and genuinely apologized to Higgins. Nate read a mean tweet and went and verbally abused and threatened Will.

For the third time, Nate is in the middle of his story and it does him a disservice to compare him to people with completed arcs. To people who has self reflection, made amends, and made active changes to become better people and useful to the bigger picture. Because we went on these full journeys, we’re able to forgive. Nate is still working through his shit and his actions aren’t a good look at all.

Let’s not set Nate up to fail currently by comparing him to people who have dealt with their shit heads on and learned from it. Let’s compare Nate’s journey to the middle of their stories and stress that his story isn’t over yet.

And let’s acknowledge that people have the right to feel angry and disturbed at Nate. Or how the power imbalance is vastly different from kitman and player v kitman and coach. This isn’t to say Jamie and co weren’t wrong to bully Nate, however, currently, as an assistant coach, he has more power over Will than the players did over him. Although Ted and Beard can override him, that relies on them always being around and seeing shit AND Will not being frightened to come forward. He may not think he’ll be able to or have support. Especially because they’re a crew, the Diamond Dogs.

Relying on other coaches to save or spare Will undercuts any reckoning and accountability for Nate. He needs to come to the realization that his behavior is fucked up and he shouldn’t be tormenting the kitman for any reason.

[calciopics]

Kylian Mbappé is Born to Run

The France forward grew up in the suburbs of Paris, steeped in the culture of football. At 22, the World Cup-winner is already a global superstar, and only now entering his prime. Will Euro 2020 be the moment when he overtakes Messi and Ronaldo to become recognised as the best player on the planet?

Kylian Mbappé was 18 when he walked into the changing room of the French national team. “It’s very difficult,” he recalls, “because great players don’t want to give you their place. That’s what makes them great players. They especially don’t want to give you their place if you arrive with the label of ‘Future Great Player’.” Within a year, Mbappé and France had won the World Cup in Moscow.

Three years on, we are talking in a room of his mansion in the leafy, old-money streets of Neuilly, just outside Paris. It isn’t even his home; he bought it to house his foundation, which offers after-school activities to rich and poor children alike. In conversation, Mbappé resembles a veteran TV presenter more than a young footballer. He makes short speeches in complete sentences, as precise in his footing as he is on the field. He sits as straight-backed as he runs. His expressive face keeps breaking into smiles: he likes talking, and is almost unburdened by the usual footballer’s fear of saying the wrong thing.

His burly father Wilfried sits beside us, but only once during the interview will he feel impelled to intervene. Meeting Mbappé, you come to understand how he hit football seemingly already fully formed. At 22, he has achieved more than most great players ever do. Can he take one more step and become the world’s best footballer?

His story starts 10 miles and a universe away from where we’re sitting today. His hometown, Bondy, is a multicultural suburb just northeast of Paris that looks as if someone plonked a Soviet town on top of an ancient French village. The old church is surrounded by fast-food joints and fading 1960s’ apartment blocks, one of them now adorned with a giant mural of Mbappé.

His parents grew up in Bondy: Wilfried, of Cameroonian origin, and Mbappé’s mother Fayza, of Algerian descent. Mixed marriages are common in the Parisian suburbs, the banlieues, but the couple did have to defy some local disapproval.

If a wannabe footballer had to choose the ideal place on earth to grow up, it might have been the Mbappé home in Bondy. Mbappé’s father and uncle were both football coaches, and Fayza, who ran after-school activities, played handball in the French first division. His parents had adopted an older boy, Jirès Kembo Ekoko, who went on to make a long career as a journeyman professional footballer. “I didn’t bring a new passion into the family,” Mbappé says with understatement.

He grew up practically inside the local football club, AS Bondy. “In the Parisian suburbs there are football fields everywhere,” he enthuses. “People here live for football. I was born with the sports ground facing my window.” It’s no wonder, he adds, that Paris’s suburbs are perhaps the deepest talent pool in global football, producing players such as Paul Pogba, Blaise Matuidi, N’Golo Kanté and Riyad Mahrez.

As a non-white kid from the suburbs, did Mbappé always feel accepted as French before he became a French icon? “I’ve always felt French. I don’t renounce my origins, because they are part of who I am, but I’ve made my whole life in France, and never at any moment was I made to feel I wasn’t at home here.” In the banlieues, he says, “We have a love of France because France has given to us and we try to give back to it.”

Mbappé’s parents made him take school seriously, and he was also a not-very-talented flautist at Bondy’s conservatory, but football came first. At AS Bondy, he says, “My father was my coach for 10 years. He helped construct the style of player I wanted to become. But I never felt the pressure of, ‘You have to become a footballer.’ Above all, it was a passion.”

Tagging along with his dad and uncle on their coaching jobs, the child acquired an unusual gift: he became a footballer who thinks like a coach. “Very young, I was always in the changing rooms, listening to the tactical talks and the different points of view, because football is made up of different viewpoints. I learned to have this tolerance, and I think it helped me, because being a coach is putting yourself in somebody else’s place. I think I have the gift of doing that. It helps in football, because if you’re a player, generally you think about yourself, about your own career. I can see, for instance, when something in a game is frustrating a team-mate. I can put him at ease.”

When you’re in the World Cup final, you’re convinced you’re going to win. You walk onto the field, the trophy is there, and you tell yourself it is impossible the other team will take it

Mbappé turned out to be that perfect sporting combination: a natural who is coachable. “He assimilates advice quickly. You ask him something once, and the second time he does it,” Antonio Riccardi, his former youth coach at AS Bondy, told me. Even as a child, Mbappé was an efficient footballer: decisive, never just decorative.

By adolescence, he was being courted by the big European clubs, which all keep close tabs on the Paris region. He visited Chelsea, and celebrated his 14th birthday at Real Madrid, which cannily found him the perfect babysitter: the club’s then assistant coach Zinedine Zidane, the greatest French footballer. When Zidane offered Mbappé a lift in his fabulous car, the overawed child offered to take his shoes off first.

The Mbappés sifted the countless offers and chose Monaco, where the route to the first team looked shortest. Mbappé arrived there, he says, “with my [footballing] baggage well filled.”

Kids in performance-sports families learn that they never arrive. Each step up is just another learning opportunity. In Monaco’s first team, the teenaged Mbappé encountered the veteran Colombian striker Radamel Falcao, freshly returned from unhappy loan spells with Manchester United and Chelsea.

“He was a star,” says Mbappé, “but he had a desire to transmit. He was like a teacher to me. He’s someone who always wants to score, but he left me the space to express myself. He’s very cool in front of goal, calm in his game, and he transmitted this serenity that I didn’t have, because I was young, excited and wanted to go at 2,000 kilometres an hour.”

The kid who didn’t yet have a driving licence scored 15 league goals in his first professional season to help Monaco win the French title in 2017. He added six more in the Champions League knockout rounds. He also passed his baccalauréat, France’s equivalent of A-levels.

Mbappé marvelled at the tension on the faces of other professionals, because he didn’t feel it himself. Everything came easily to him, without great sacrifice, he has said. When I ask about stress in a profession of hypercompetitive men, he shrugs: “Daily life is easy.”

His vertical ascent didn’t surprise him; it just happened a bit quicker than he’d expected. But others were stunned. Here was something new: an 18-year-old complete forward. Built like an Olympic sprinter, Mbappé ran upright, looking around him. He could dribble, cross and shoot. He was more advanced than Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo had been at 18.

How does he describe his style? “The modern attacker who can play anywhere,” he replies. He explains that forwards used to be specialists: “There’d be a number nine, or number 11, or number seven.” Mbappé, though, is the all-in-one. “I think my CV can speak for me. I’ve played alone up front, I’ve played on the left and the right. In all humility, I don’t think it’s given to everyone to change position like that every year and keep a certain standard of performance at the highest level. That didn’t fall from heaven. If I speak of the baggage given me in my teens, it’s all there.”

In one regard he has always been unequalled: the counterattack at speed. He says, “I’ve managed to work on my weak points but above all to perfect my strong points, because I was always told that it’s through your strong points that you’ll exist.”

In March 2017, Mbappé became the youngest player in 62 years to debut for France. Five months later, his hometown club Paris Saint-Germain agreed to sign him for a fee of £166m. He drew on his childhood experiences to navigate two alpha-male changing-rooms. At PSG, his good English and Spanish helped him deal with foreign team-mates. With Les Bleus, France’s assistant coach Guy Stéphan told Mbappé’s biographer Arnaud Hermant: “He knows the codes of the changing room. At table or in the bus, he doesn’t just sit somewhere randomly. For a youngster, he isn’t timid or introverted. He expresses himself.”

By summer 2018, picked for the World Cup in Russia, Mbappé was comfortable enough to claim the blue number 10 shirt — previously worn by Zidane and Michel Platini — and to say in public that he was gunning for the trophy.

“I went to play the matches calmly like I always have. I didn’t want to change just because it was the World Cup,” he says. “We were lucky to have a young squad. We were totally carefree, just a band of mates.”

Hang on, surely a football team isn’t really a band of mates? “No,” he acknowledges. “Just like the baker doesn’t get on with all bakers. You don’t have to eat with your team-mates every evening to win.”

In the World Cup round of 16, his two goals and a 37kmph gallop through Argentina’s defence made his global name. The night before the final against Croatia, he admits, “I was a bit stressed. I didn’t manage to sleep much. But the nearer the match came, the less stressed I was.” Before kick-off he was joking in the changing room. Stéphan recalls: “He experienced the final as if it were a PSG-Dijon game.”

Mbappé says, “When you’re in the World Cup final, you’re convinced that you’re going to win. Even the Croats were convinced they were going to win. You walk onto the field and the trophy is there, between the two teams, and you tell yourself it’s impossible that the other team will take it. That’s why there’s such disappointment afterwards if you don’t win.”

Half of Bondy gathered in front of a giant screen to cheer on the commune’s own “Kylian national”. Scoring in France’s 4–2 victory, he seemed to have reached his career apogee aged 19. He didn’t see it like that. Interviewed the night of the final, he described winning the World Cup as “already good” but only a start.

The next day, as the Bleus’ bus edged along a packed, ecstatic Champs-Élysées, writes Hermant, the ice-cold kid mused to the French Football Federation’s president Noël Le Graët: “Was all this really necessary?”

Mbappé explains now: “For me, it wasn’t an outcome, a finality. I don’t think of that trophy now at all. I don’t look at pictures of the World Cup before going to sleep. Honestly, it’s people on the street who come up and say, ‘You’re world champion, merci, merci.’”

He understood that his early triumph had upset football’s all-important hierarchies. Returning to PSG, he immediately reassured Paris’s Brazilian star Neymar: “I’m not going to walk on your flowerbeds. I’ll be a candidate for the Ballon d’Or [the award for world’s best footballer] this year because you won’t be, but I promise I don’t want to take your place.”

Soon after, he took the World Cup trophy to Bondy, where thousands came out to greet him. “It was a way to say, ‘Thank you.’ I’ve never forgotten which soup I have eaten. So it was important for me to return there after my first World Cup and first international title.” (Note that word, “first”.)

France’s coach, Didier Deschamps, recalls falling into “physical and moral apathy” the season after he lifted the World Cup as a player in 1998. Did Mbappé experience a hangover? He grins: “I finished as best player in the league, highest scorer, best young player, I was chosen in the team of the season, and we won the league.”

Winning the World Cup made Mbappé a national hero. Does he consider himself a star? “I think so. If your face is everywhere in the city, everywhere in the world, that’s for sure. Being a star is a status, but it doesn’t make me a better person than others.”

He lives like a luxury prisoner, who cannot leave home without being mobbed. “It takes an organisation just to go out,” he says. He has joked that when his future children ask him about his youthful adventures, he won’t have any.

“A fan gives you enormous love,” says Mbappé carefully, “but sometimes maybe an excess of love, and he might not respect your intimacy. We give our lives to the people, because we give them pleasure every three days, and we give them our time. It’s impossible to hope for a normal life, but just a little respect for one’s private life isn’t too much to ask for, I think.”

As a young man of non-white origins, he has a particular vulnerability with the French public, one-third of whom voted for the far-right candidate Marine Le Pen in the run-off of the presidential elections in 2017. Even so, he has begun to speak out against police violence.

“I took time to start talking about it, because I wasn’t ready,” he admits. “I had a lot of things to digest: my change of status, my new life. But I have always opposed all types of violence.”

When I note that French police violence is disproportionately directed against people of non-white origins from suburbs like Bondy, his father stirs from his silence: “We’re not answering that. You’re orienting it as if the violence were only against people from the banlieues, which is false.”

In high-level football, nobody will make a place for you. Ego, self-love, isn’t just the caprice of stars. It’s also the will to give the best of yourself

French fans like their stars humble. Mbappé has explained “the French mentality” to Neymar, who favours a bling-bling, poker-playing party lifestyle. Mbappé says, “In Brazil, they are more festive, in France more serious. Here it’s not considered good to display your passions. People will think he’s neglecting PSG because he plays poker. I think he has begun to understand that. At first it was hard for him because he experienced it as an affront. When he arrived, they put his face on the Eiffel Tower, and six months later they’re asking him why he’s playing poker. In France, people know what you have but they don’t want to see it. They just want to see you playing football, smiling.”

But Mbappé believes humility isn’t enough. He thinks great footballers need big egos. “In high-level football, nobody will make a place for you or tell you that you’re capable of things. It’s up to you to persuade yourself that you are. Ego, self-love, isn’t just a caprice of stars. It’s also the will to surpass yourself, to give the best of yourself.” Every time he walks onto the field, he says, he tells himself, “I’m the best.”

In truth, he knows he isn’t the best — Messi and Ronaldo are better. “It’s not only me who knows that,” he laughs. “Everyone knows it. If you tell yourself that you’ll do better than them, it’s beyond ego or determination — it’s lack of awareness. Those players are incomparable. They have broken all laws of statistics. They have had 10 extraordinary years, 15.”

Still, he admits: “You do always compare yourself with the best in your sport, just as the baker compares himself with the best bakers around him. Who makes the best croissant, the best pain au chocolat? I watch matches of other great players to see what they’re doing. ‘I know how to do this, but can the other guy do it too?’ I think other players watch me, too. I think that pushes players to raise their game, just as Messi was good for Ronaldo and Ronaldo was good for Messi.”

Does Mbappé compare himself with the other great forward of his generation, Borussia Dortmund’s Norwegian Erling Braut Haaland? Mbappé’s reply sounds a touch patronising: “It’s his second year, we’re getting to know him. It’s the start for him. I’m happy for him, for what he’s doing.”

The more you become an important person, the more duties you have. I’m no longer the little kid. I’m Kylian Mbappé

In this elite individual competition, the top spot may be coming free. Messi (34 this month) and Ronaldo (36) are “nearer the end than the beginning”, acknowledges Mbappé. In February, his hat-trick helped PSG thrash Messi’s Barcelona 1–4 at the Camp Nou. “The best match of my career,” Mbappé says, “because it was complete. I helped my team both offensively and defensively, and I succeeded in the creation and finishing of my moves, in one-against-ones. I won 90 per cent of my duels, if that stat is correct. All match, I never had a moment when I felt extinguished.” He then scored two at Bayern Munich, before PSG fell to Manchester City.

Some opposing teams now rearrange their entire tactical systems to combat the Mbappé counterattack. “There are quite a few anti-Kylian plans every match,” he says. “It means I’ve been recognised as a great player. It requires you to have multiple strings to your bow. I like that, because I adore challenges.”

Surely he’s now too big a player for the French league? He umms and aws: “France isn’t the best championship in the world, but it’s my responsibility, as a flagship player, to help the league grow.” Yet he may well leave this summer, to Real Madrid or England. The decision, perhaps the biggest he’ll face in his career, will be made inside his family. Almost uniquely for a star footballer, Mbappé doesn’t have an agent, just lawyers.

At 22, he considers himself an experienced footballer. He says he and Neymar “are now the two natural leaders” of PSG. When he kicks off the delayed Euro 2020 with France in June, it will be with more responsibility than at the World Cup. “The more you become an important personality, the more duties you have. I’m no longer the little kid. I’m Kylian Mbappé.”

Kylian Mbappé’s prime may have already arrived. Fast strikers usually peak between 20 and 24. A Euro and a World Cup within 18 months, while France’s generation of 2018 remains almost intact, may be his best chance to make football history. What are his career ambitions? That smile again: “To win everything.” (Esquire Magazine)

[haikyuuwaifu]

0.

Genre: Drama, Angst, Humor, NSFW Content, 18+ Content throughout

Warnings: Swearing, Crude Language

MASTERLIST

HORSECOCKS + SMALL PP’S INTRODUCTION

-Issei has a rule. “Never fuck the same chick twice” He’s lived by that rule since high school and has NEVER had a serious girlfriend. The only reason why he labels himself an amatuer pornstar is because the women he fucks likes to do it live or on snap. Man doesn’t care, he’s got LITERALLY nothing to hide ;) Iwa, Issei, and Osamu go out every weekend and make bets. Issei also owes Yachi a new pair of shoes considering the girl he was going to bring home one night upchucked all over them. You can promise yachi was mad, those shoes cost hundreds 🤡 ALSO Issei is the FOUNDER of the Horsecock Trio. They even have a merch line ;)

-Iwaizumi is in charge of the Japanese National Team. He also shares the rule of never fucking the same chick twice. Iwaizumi also refuses to fuck any trainer on his team so more often than not women will transfer to his team via the JVA only to put in a request to go elsewhere so they can sleep with him. Iwaizumi ended up buying Kiyoko three Coach purses and Four different wallets to make up for the bullshit she had to clean up.

-Osamu started Onigiri Miya with the money he made underwear modeling. Once his business took off, he never bothered to quit because the modeling was easy money. He has never had a serious girlfriend. There was only one woman he’d ever had any genuine feelings for, but he could never find the nerve to approach her; and Atsumu swooped in and nabbed her up. He gets fan mail and panties sent to his shop ALL the time. He also steals Atsumu’s girls just to get back at him. Osamu can be the least problematic of the HTC or the most. There is no in-between🤡

-Makki jokes about having a small PP but he doesn’t. His full-time job is assisting Kiyoko and reigning in his fuckboy friends. He and Yachi have been together long enough that the two have decided they’ll get married at some point. Time is a social construct to Makki LMAO. He also hates that the women who throw themselves at his friends think they’re superior when he and everyone under the sun KNOWS just how low they really are for some dick🤡 Suna and Makki make money of the prints Iwa, Issei, and Osamu take. They have a whole ass studio for these pics too.

-Everyone in the group supports the HCT and their antics. They’re grown men and they can do what they want. Their friend group is a NO JUDGEMENT ZONE. That being said, Tooru will not have any snooty bitches at his wedding. Tooru really charged women a 500 dollar entrance fee when the group rented out a club to celebrate a birthday. He, Yachi, and Kiyoko cackled as they watched these women come in droves waving their cash around. They used that money for an impromptu shopping trip the following weekend.

-Omi and Oikawa met AFTER Oikawa had already gone to Argentina. He came back to visit and stumbled upon Omi talking to Iwaizumi. Oikawa pursued and persevered, finally winning out. They’re the prettiest couple in the group LMAO. Osamu is Kiyoomi’s best friend, even if he plays on the same team as Atsumu he’s never liked the way Atsumu has always played with women. The only girlfriend Atsumu had, that Omi actually liked; he cheated on and treated like shit. Y/N is very precious to Kiyoomi. They met when she was dating Atsumu and they stayed friends after. She was the one who convinced him to give Tooru a serious chance, and the two of them and Kenma take impromptu trips all the time. The trio have the most fun bullying Tooru and Oikawa.

-Kiyoko and Tooru have a strong sibling relationship that consists of her bullying him 24/7 and him making the attempt to return the bullying only to get crushed in the process. There have been HCT fans that have tried to fight Kiyoko for a shot at the boys. Too bad they didn’t take Saeko Tanaka and her Angry Russian model girlfriend into account  🤡 As much as Kiyoko would like a relationship, her boys take up a lot of her time, and the men she’s dated previously were too insecure. 

-Suna is the blackmail king, but at this point he only uses blackmail where Atsumu is concerned. The rest of it is stuff he and the HCT plan out together. He also refuses to help ANYONE shoot their shot with the trio. If she’s bold enough she’ll do it herself. Suna has been carrying a torch for [redacted] since before he was moved to the Black Jackals. He’s bummed he never got the other mans name. 

*Bully Tooru hours is 24/7. Mattsun brought a girl home from a promo event and told her the night before it was a one night thing. He, Iwaizumi, and Osamu are very up front about this. They don’t like leading women on and they NEVER do. Yachi and Kiyoko have been DYING to meet Y/N, but mostly due to conflicting schedules they’ve yet to have the chance. With the same mutuals they’re crossing their fingers that it’ll happen soon. 

VIOLENCE IS ALWAYS THE ANSWER INTRO

@dabilove27 @victory-is-here @amberalisa @loveinhaikyuu @black-rose-29 @oppositesunchild @seijqhigh​ @skiyoomii @fucktheworlddude @prettyforpapiiwa​ @prettyinblack231​ @its-the-aerieljeane @bootylikepeachy​

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 3

I’m really happy that this has gotten some positive feedback, this fic is like my baby. Thanks to everyone for reading!

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It had been a week since getting out of the hospital and five days since the funeral. It was an odd feeling, and it didn’t make it better that it was a closed casket funeral since they had been burned so badly. It was probably for the better, that meant that the last time I saw them they were wishing me goodnight, smiling, happy, alive. 

I wanted to try to get back to normal. Uncle Noah told me that it was too soon too. He said he wished he spent some more time at home with Stiles, but he didn’t have much of a choice being the sheriff. But life goes on, even if I wanted to go back in time if just for a moment. Maybe getting back to something I enjoyed would be helpful in coping. Moving into the Stilinski house had been only a little strange. I had spent the night here before, especially when I was younger and Stiles and I would pass out in the living room watching Power Rangers or Disney movies. The only thing that bothered me was that I wouldn’t be going home after this, I had my own room with new sheets, new clothes, and only a few things that had survived the fire. Uncle Noah had painted the walls a soft (your favorite color). 

Everything seemed to be perfect, if you could even call it that. However, along with the fact that I lost practically everything, the person who took everything from me was still out there. Michael’s apartment had been cleaned out, his family was no longer in their home, they all just vanished. 

I stared at myself in the mirror, fiddling with the locket that Stiles had given me for my sixteenth birthday. Inside was a tiny picture of us at a birthday party when we were kids, our faces painted like cats, cake around our mouths. I smiled and thought back to the hospital. 

Uncle Noah left the room after giving my statement, leaving Stiles and I in the room. 

“Just so we’re clear you do mean Derek Hale. Main suspect in the fire that killed his family Derek Hale.” He asked. 

“Stiles, even if he did do it, why would he help me get away from Michael? If he was so crazy, why would he offer to drive me away? Why would he drive me to the hospital?” I sat up in the hospital bed.

“Maybe so he could murder you himself?” He scoffed. 

“I highly doubt that.” I looked out the window. But what he said did bring up a question. Derek and I were in completely different circles in high school. He could have completely ignored me and gave me back to Michael. But he didn’t. He helped me.

 I wanted to thank Uncle Noah for taking me in, so I insisted on making dinner tonight. To be honest, home cooking probably wasn’t standard at the Stilinski house. Some sort of pasta dish would probably be good. 

After giving my appearance a final once over, I made my way downstairs. Stiles was on the couch, eating ramen noodles. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head to the store, you wanna come?” I asked. 

He looked up mid-noodle slurp, “Uh yeah, of course. You want me to drive?” 

I scoffed, “So I can feel every bump in the road?” 

“Hey, Roscoe is a smooth ride.” He defended his Jeep. 

“I think that’s an oxymoron.” I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door, “Let’s go.” I smiled. He threw out his noodle carton and slipped on his shoes. Interactions like this made everything easier. 

- 

Around nine, I was just watching videos on the computer, hoping that it would numb my brain enough to go to sleep. Dinner had been cut short because Uncle Noah got a call from someone and went out saying he would be home later. But that didn’t mean Stiles would go to bed, even if his first day of sophomore was in the morning. 

“Hold it.” I called, not looking up from the screen, his footsteps were loud enough to wake the dead. I spun around in the computer chair, folding my fingers together, “And just where do you think you’re going, Mr. Stilinski?”

He straightened out his body, “Oh, just getting a drink of water.” 

I titled my head, “Really? You’re not going to go get Scott so you can find the body in the woods?” 

He squinted, “How did you know that?” 

“You think you’re the only one who’s tapped into police radio?” 

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, “So are you gonna tell Dad?” 

“Of course not.” I hummed, “But I’m going with you.” I stood up, zipping up my jacket. The outfit had already been prepared after the police radio chatter explained that there had been a body reported in the woods. 

“(Y/N), I don’t know if that’s a good idea seeing that… you know.” 

“I’m a big girl, Stiles. I can handle it. Plus, we probably won’t even find it.” 

The whole way to Scott’s house was him essentially making me swear a vow of silence. As if he couldn’t trust me, he told me everything and I never tattled. 

At Scott’s, I waited in the car while Stiles made his way to the front door where Scott almost took Stiles out with a bat. After some convincing, Stiles and Scott made their way to the Jeep.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Scott smiled as he got in, shoving his inhaler in his pocket. The smile was a sad one, something I would have to get used to. I was the girl whose parents were killed. 

Close to the destination, Scott brought up a good question: "So which half of the body are we looking for?“ 

We both looked at Stiles who said: "Ahh, I didn’t even think about that." 

"And what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” Scott added. This made me realize that maybe coming was a mistake. Michael was still on the loose, who was to say that this wasn’t another victim. And worse, that could have been her body out in the woods, or at least half of it.

“Also something I didn’t think about." 

“Did you think about anything?” I piped in before we finally parked outside the main trails into the woods. 

-

About fifteen minutes into our hike, I stopped to make sure Scott didn’t fall too far behind. He had the worst case of asthma I had ever seen, he couldn’t walk for very long without needing his inhaler. I knew how much he wanted to play lacrosse, but I really didn’t think it was possible. 

Midthought, I was pulled down the trail with Scott by Stiles. 

“What the he-” I began, but Stiles shushed me. The sound of dogs rang out in the darkness. Without thinking, I started running with Stiles, leaving Scott behind. Our running was stopped abruptly by a dog, who barked and snarled at us from the ground. 

“Heel! Hang on, hang on.” Uncle Noah called to the officer restraining the dog, “This delinquent belongs to me. And so does this one. This I didn’t expect.” He looked from Stiles to me. I stood up, brushing the dirt off my behind. 

“I was uh…babysitting.” 

“Right. Babysitting.” He nodded along, very clearly not believing me. He looked back to Stiles, “Where’s your usual partner in crime?” 

“Who?” Stiles asked, “Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted a good night’s sleep for back to school tomorrow. It’s just me and (Y/N). In the woods. Alone.” I elbowed his side at his terrible lie. 

Uncle Noah brought up his flashlight, looking in the trees and called for Scott. When he got no answer, he put the light down. 

“Well, young man, I’m going to walk you back to your Jeep. You too, missy.” He wrapped an arm around both of our shoulders, “We can all have a little conversation about the invasion of privacy.” I took one last glance in the woods, hoping Scott was okay. And if Michael was the one to do this, I really hoped that Scott would be at school tomorrow. 

- 

The next day was the beginning of lacrosse season, meaning the beginning of work. Around one in the afternoon, I made up my lacrosse bag and had a quick lunch and went out to my car. I opened the driver’s side door but I paused, having an eerie feeling crawl up my spine, like I was being watched. I checked my surroundings but saw nothing. Without another thought about it, I made my way towards the high school. 

-

I made it just in time for lacrosse practice to start, Coach Finstock was on the sidelines. He had his usual look of discontent. I made my way to his side. He looked at me out of the corner of his vision, then back to the players making their way on the field. 

“Is there any way you could She’s the Man this and be on the team.” He asked. 

I held onto the strap of my bag, “That would be cheating, Coach. But I would if I could.” He patted me on the back. 

“Good to have you back, (Y/L/N).” He blew his whistle, “Alright, gather ‘round, ladies. Let’s keep this short so we can practice and maybe get something down today. This is (Y/N), my assistant coach. If I see any of you hormonal monsters so much as look at her the wrong way, I will make sure this season will be hell for you. That means you, Greenberg.” After some more instruction, he sent the boys off on their way. Stiles waved at me before starting to run laps. Since it was the first day, Coach said that just sitting in the bleachers would work for today. To be honest, it felt like he was taking it easy on me, if that were even possible for him to do. I sat up on the bleachers, watching all of the players run. I did see Scott so that meant he survived the night in the woods. 

“Hi.” A soft voice came from beside me. I looked up, seeing a brown hair girl had made her way to sit besides me. 

“Hey.” I said back, she didn’t seem familiar at all, maybe a new kid in town. 

“Come to watch your boyfriend?” She pointed to Stiles, whose legs seemed to work out of sync with his body. 

“Oh no no, that’s my friend. I’m also the assistant coach.” I held my hand out, “(Y/N).”

“Allison.” She shook my hand and looked back out at the field.

“You’re new, huh?” I asked. 

“Is it that easy to tell?” She chuckled. 

“Nah, you just didn’t look familiar. Was your last school into lacrosse too, or…?”

“Oh uh, no, I came to see him.” She vaguely pointed in the direction of Scott. 

“Scott? Yeah, he’s a nice guy.” I smiled.

“I know. He gave me a pen in class today, which was a life saver because I lost mine.”

 After a moment, a redhead I knew all too well sat down besides Allison. Not that I knew her personally, Lydia Martin was just the girl that Stiles had been in love with since… ever.

“Are you the girl whose house burned down?” She asked. Her subtlety was immaculate. Allison, looking mortified, gave me an apologetic smile. 

“Ahuh.” I shrugged, getting up from my seat, “I can’t really see the field. I’m gonna get a different angle. It was nice meeting you, Allison.” Before they could say more, I took the steps down to the grass. 

“McCall!” Coach called, “Get in goal.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest, “You think that’s gonna be a good idea? He’s never played goal before.” 

“I got a feeling.” He said, also crossing his arms and calling the players to line up and make shots at the goal. I gave Scott a quick thumbs up. Coach blew his whistle, Scott grabbed at his ears like the sound was too loud. The player sidearm shot the ball at the goal, hitting Scott in the helmet and sending him on his back. I winced, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stiles had the same reaction. This might not go well.

To my surprise, though, Scott got back up and caught the next ball that came at him. The next player to come up seemed to have an angry walk in his step.

"Who’s that?” I whispered to Coach.

“Jackson Whittemore.” He looked back, enthralled in the fact that Scott was doing well.

Jackson Whittemore was the town rich boy and did pretty well in lacrosse from what I understood. He also had a chip on his shoulder the size of Mars. He whipped the ball as fast he could, it was impressive. But it was no match for Scott’s new goalie skills.

-

After practice, Stiles, Scott, and I made our way back to the woods - this time in broad daylight- to find Scott’s inhaler that he dropped. He mentioned that while he was out, he was attacked by an animal and got bitten.

“I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. Smell things.” He explained.

“Smell things?” Stiles scrunched up his nose, “Like what?”

“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.” He motioned towards Stiles. Stiles looked skeptical but when searching his pocket did find the pack of gum.

“How many sticks left?” I asked, a little amused.

“Uhhh.” he sniffed, “Two.” I took the gum from Stiles' hand and opened it.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Two sticks.

“So this all started with a bite?” Stiles took back his gum, sticking it back in his pocket.

“Could this be some kind of infection?” Scott asked.

“I actually think I’ve heard of this. It’s a different kind of infection.” Stiles shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He gave me a side eye, I nodded.

“Are you serious?” He asked, getting more exasperated. We both nodded.

“Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.” Stiles said.

“What is that? Is it bad?” Scott asked, the panic setting in.

“The worst.” I exaggerated. 

“It’s worse about once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“On the night of the full moon.” Stiles sighed, as if this “infection” was terminal. The fact that Scott hasn’t gotten it yet just told me that he wasn’t paying attention during Monster Movie night. Stiles and I threw our heads back and howled towards the sky.

“Come on, guys, this isn’t funny!” Scott glared.

“Didn’t you tell your mom about it?” I asked, then realized how stupid of a question it was. If Ms. McCall had found out how late he was out and that he was in the woods looking for a body, he would have been grounded for sure.

“Of course not.” He shook his head. After that, the boys had walked a little bit ahead, still going on about Scott’s new super infection. I took a little more time looking in the bushes to see if Scott’s inhaler had fallen off the trail. The thing was bright red, it shouldn’t be that hard to find. While I searched, I zoned out everything else in the world. I thought about my parents. There was still so much that I didn’t know that they never got a chance to teach me. The last night they were alive, they had mentioned something offhand.

“(Y/D/N), when are we going to tell her?” Mom whispered, biting her nails. They spoke in the hallway, not realizing I could hear. Dad paused for a moment, then looked down at her.

“We’ll tell her tomorrow.”

I never found out what they were going to tell me.

The other thing that I couldn’t seem to get off my mind was Derek Hale. He practically risked his life to help me. If I saw someone with a knife like Michael was, I would like to believe that I would do what Derek did, but I couldn’t be sure. Besides that, I couldn’t get his face out of my head. It would be a lie if I didn’t think he was attractive. The way he looked at me with those dark green eyes. It made you feel a certain sort of way. 

I looked up from the bushes I was searching and realized it was way darker than it had been and that Scott and Stiles were nowhere in sight. 

“Scott? Stiles?” I called. No answer. What did answer though, was a flash of rain. 

“Great. I’m lost in the woods, where there is a dead body. And even a murderer.” I moped out loud. I found my way back to what I thought was the trail and started walking. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and saw that it was completely dead. So much for calling in a rescue. Thunder roared in the sky, making my pace faster. 

By now it was dark, just flashes of lightning making it easy for me to see where I was walking. I walked for what seemed like forever until I found a large house in the middle of the woods. The place seemed vaguely familiar. It was in disrepair and looked like no one had been there in years. For now, it would probably be better to wait out the storm and start walking when the rain ended. I pushed the door and stepped inside. It was still wet inside from the parts of the house that were missing, but in places where there was still roof, it was dry. I looked around, seeing something on the wall, partially burned. It was a triskelion with a name underneath. Hale. I was standing in the remains of the Hale house.

“What are you doing here?” A deep voice made me jump and turn around. Derek Hale stood in the doorway, a lightning flash lit up his face and for a moment his eyes looked blue before going back to their green color. 

“I’m sorry, I just got lost in the woods and then it started raining. I-I’ll leave now.” I walked towards the door to go out again but he grabbed my arm tightly. 

“Don’t go out there.” He said, looking behind him.

“Why?” I asked in a hushed voice. He looked me in the eyes, looking pretty terrifying frankly. 

“You were followed here.” He said, making my blood run cold. 

“Was it…?” I took a deep breath, “Was it Michael?” He shook his head, pulling me further into the house. 

“No, something else.” 

“Something else? What do you mean?” I asked, pulling my arm from his grip. He stopped and looked at me confused. 

“Didn’t you smell it? Hear it?” 

“Look, Derek, I know we never talked in high school and you barely know me, so I’ll just let you in on a little secret: I can’t smell when something is stalking me in the woods.” I looked over my shoulder at the door. There was a creaking sound coming from outside that was pretty consistent with walking. He glared out at the creaking, taking his jacket off. 

“Put this on.” He held it out to me. 

“Why?” I asked. Looking from the jacket to him. 

“It will put my scent on you.” 

“Your freaking what?” I raised my eyebrows at him. Maybe he was crazy. I was stuck in an abandoned house with whatever was outside with a crazy person. 

“Will you just put it on?” He barked. No need to make a crazy man mad. I took the jacket and slipped it on. Like any other jacket it smelled like leather, but this had something else, a musky smell that would be very pleasing if the situation was different. 

“Go out the back and run.” He started walking towards the door, “Now.” He didn’t need to tell me twice. I took off running as fast as I could out the back door and up the long drive way that connected the Hale property to the main road. And, like an absolute angel, Stiles appeared in his Jeep, stopping right outside the entrance to the overgrown driveway. 

“(Y/N)!” He called over the rain. I ran to the jeep, got in and slammed the door behind me. 

“Go, go go go go.” I said hastily, put on my seat belt and he took off. 

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?!” He shouted, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“I didn’t charge it before going out in the woods.” I panted, looking over my shoulder to make sure the something Derek had been talking about wasn’t behind us. 

“Whose jacket is that?” 

“Derek Hale’s.” 

“Why do you have his jacket?!” 

“Listen, I could explain right now but apparently I was being stalked back there so put this thing in gear and drive faster.”

- 

Last night after getting home, I explained to Stiles what happened. We both agreed that it did sound like Derek was a little crazy. But the fact was that something in the woods bit Scott and it was probably better that Derek had found me instead of whatever it was. 

The next morning, everything should have been a dream. The whole situation would make more sense. But Derek’s jacket was hanging on the back of her door which meant that instead of encountering Derek being a dream, it was reality. Stiles would be in school by now and Uncle Noah was definitely at work, if he even left last night to begin with. Maybe a walk would take my mind off things. I got dressed and ready and was about to walk out of my room when I caught myself grabbing Derek’s jacket to put on. This jacket wasn’t mine, I shouldn’t be wearing it. I didn’t need to have Derek’s “scent” all over me but I grabbed it anyway. There was the possibility that I would see him while I was out since I had been seeing him a hundred times more than usual. I opened the front door, seeing Derek who was just standing outside the door. 

“We need to talk.”

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Read part 4 here!

Part 3 down. And trust me, this part needed a lot of work from the “original” material. 

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