#i’ve got an interview that doesn’t even matter now cause i’m leaving

[jaketsparrow]

SOMETHING... | JTK

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…

A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :) 

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*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth. 

The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy. 

There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern. 

He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all. 

Professor Kiszka on the other hand… 

When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man. 

You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him. 

3 Months Ago

The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad. 

The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?

Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.

Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last. 

Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…

“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone. 

“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off. 

You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears. 

Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”

“Just for you.” 

And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare. 

The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather. 

You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room. 

The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway. 

You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…

One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room. 

It was empty. 

The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work. 

You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.

You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away. 

Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever.  A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.

“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway. 

You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. 

You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover. 

“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond. 

He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level. 

He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”

“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you. 

“-Your favorite?” He asks. 

You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry? 

“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him. 

You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point. 

He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?” 

You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite. 

“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer. 

He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.” 

He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table. 

“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously. 

You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process. 

“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort. 

He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.” 

Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.

“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”

He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat. 

“You don’t approve?” He scoffs. 

“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.” 

“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”

You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber. 

“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly. 

You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart. 

He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger. 

“Please, call me Jacob.” 

You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips. 

“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”

You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake. 

His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand. 

“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…” 

You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”

 He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings. 

“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”

You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.

“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him. 

Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite. 

Present

In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve. 

Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try. 

Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress. 

You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items. 

One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation. 

“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so? 

“You look like a pirate.” You responded. 

A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked. 

His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth. 

When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.

You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag. 

He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there? 

This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.

“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”

Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement. 

“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago. 

“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.

He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…” 

You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”

He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”

Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave. 

“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.” 

The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up. 

You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him. 

He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you. 

You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him. 

You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.” 

He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.” 

You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him. 

You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.

A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard. 

“Hey.” He prods. 

You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands. 

“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption. 

“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues. 

No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…

You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.” 

He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.” 

Two Hours Later

Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.

The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?

You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction. 

You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product. 

Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too. 

Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance. 

Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it. 

Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello. 

You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.  

You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript. 

You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old. 

You press play and lower the needle onto the music. 

Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold. 

Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…

You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity. 

You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete. 

You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important… 

The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…

 You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar. 

The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels. 

Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.” 

He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass.  He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face. 

You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily. 

“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter. 

You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before. 

“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”

“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?” 

You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you. 

He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..” 

You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters. 

“Oh, dear god.” You sigh. 

“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”

“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.” 

He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.

“Want to know something funny?” He questions. 

You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue. 

“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot. 

“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.” 

He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.” 

Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care? 

“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-” 

“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”

He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him. 

“Did I offend you?” You ask.

“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.” 

“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate. 

“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...” 

You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.

“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.” 

He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down. 

He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks. 

Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you. 

No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you. 

The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page. 

“See this paragraph here?” He questions. 

You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement 

You need to focus. 

You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?” 

He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.” 

You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost. 

“What…? What problem?” 

You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist. 

He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ” 

You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside. 

You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible. 

“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”

Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from. 

“Professor-” You initiate.

“Jacob.” He replies. 

“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.” 

He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”

You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all… 

Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.

You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin. 

“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-” 

“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”

You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand. 

“You… You were?” He searches for the answer. 

“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off. 

“But?” He inquires. 

You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber. 

“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.” 

Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression. 

“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction. 

“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you. 

You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in. 

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”

“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”

He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.” 

You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?” 

“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.” 

He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.

“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”

“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone

You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared. 

“How rough are we talking…” You prod. 

The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.” 

You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private. 

You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before… 

Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting. 

His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles. 

“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”

You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest. 

His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language. 

He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood. 

“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”

“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter. 

You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your… 

His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.” 

“Yes-”

Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck. 

His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing. 

You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect. 

His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you. 

He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off. 

“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked. 

You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from. 

“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down. 

“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.    

He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.

“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?” 

You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”

He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”

Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments. 

“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice. 

He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely. 

“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.” 

The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on. 

He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion. 

“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.” 

You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own. 

His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses. 

“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”

His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him. 

“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…” 

Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease. 

His kisses start to graze you closer to your… 

He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means. 

“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.” 

He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm. 

“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”

“Good girl.”

Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you. 

Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-” 

Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to. 

His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder. 

“Green?” He asks, looking for permission. 

You nodded your head ferociously  

You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop. 

“Words.” He barked. 

Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…” 

“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.

“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg. 

The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again. 

He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding. 

Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room. 

“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”

You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you. 

His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks. 

“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?” 

Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now. 

“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”

Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you. 

He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity. 

“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”

He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once. 

He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending.  It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more. 

You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you. 

Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation. 

He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end. 

Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness… 

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped… 

Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen. 

A knock at the classroom door. 

“Hello?” Someone called out. 

There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew. 

“Everything okay in here Kiszka?” 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”

#jake kiszka #greta van smut #gvf fic #gvf smut #jake kiskza x reader #jtk x reader #jake gvf #professor fic #gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka angst #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut

[ferraripoolfc]

Some thoughts on the Japan GP:

I haven’t posted in awhile but I have watched both Australia GP and this one! And I have a few things to say I fear.

Starting off with Ferrari.

Here we are once again leaving with a podium which is a beautiful result going based off how we performed last season! ( it wasn’t the best sadly). Last race we got a double podium and now we have a P3 with Carlos and P4 with Charles coming very close. Me personally I’m very proud when both drivers do amazing and are right next to each other with podiums and places. It shows that they both did amazing to follow each other. NOW one thing I don’t like is how fans react when one driver gets a podium and the other doesn’t. And when the driver is Carlos to get the podium it’s now “Oh Charles deserved that podium” or “Ferrari doesn’t care for Charles all they do is put him down” and honestly I think those are crazy things to say because those things are never said when Charles gets the podium. I think we should all appreciate both drivers for even bagging us points that we NEED! It’s kinda weird to see 16 and 55 fans kinda beef when it’s the end of the race. They both are amazing drivers and 16 fans shouldn’t worry because Charles is still gonna have the seat at the end of the season regardless.

Mercedes (Lewis Hamilton)

I don’t even know where to start. I’m gonna try and keep this short! It’s been hard watching Lewis race this season so far and I know it’s not him. It’s the car. I was hoping for a better race result because of the record he woulda broke if winning (a girl can dream). But man these results been making me feel down because this isn’t the way Lewis starts. He only has 10 points which is so unfamiliar. I wanted him to have a good goodbye before coming to Ferrari. And speaking of that Idk if you all saw about that Question that journalist asked Lewis which caused him to walk out during a post race interview today. Knowing Lewis I know he can overcome this challenge but I hope it doesn’t drag him down.

Daniel Riccardo and Yuki:

CONGRATULATIONS TO YUKI! Getting points during home race I love that for him so much! He’s been performing amazing and hopefully he gets that Red Bull seat! (You never know). No Mr. Riccardo….very sad to see what’s happening but we all knew it was gonna come but his seat is gone. I didn’t want it to end like this but it’s too clear. I will never forget the things he’s achieved while being F1 but no matter how hard he tried the stars are not aligning for him.

Williams:

Gonna keep it short! But proud of Logan for his time in the race. He sadly didn’t bag points but it’s the fact he stuck through for Williams while Albon DNF. I hope to see him keep approving I’ve been seeing g too much hate on him recently because of how he performed in practices. But Logan isn’t a terrible driver and I have nothing but faith.

ALRIGHT!! Just a small rant session didn’t wanna yap too much! Might come back with more but idk! Peace and blessings hope everyone has a great day <3

#ferraripoolfc #ferrari formula one #formula 1 #mercedes amg f1 #f1 #mercedes #mercedes amg petronas #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton 44 #scuderia ferrari #Ferrari #carlos sainz 55 #charles leclerc 16 #daniel ricciardo #yuki tsunoda #logan sargeant #alex albon #williams racing #japan gp 2024 #what is even happening #I’m scared for him #aesthetic

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kou Maniac [Epilogue]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts at the department store

Kou: Haah...

( I went back to being an idol in the end... )

ー He recalls his own words

Kou: It’s fine, don’t worry! I honestly wouldn’t mind if my agency decides to fire me!

I mean, Eden is top priority right now, isn’t it?

I wouldn’t want the situation to get completely out of hand while I’m enjoying the sweet idol life over in the human world!

While it’s fun to be an idol, it’s not like I have any kind of special connection with my job. I wouldn’t mind putting a stop to it right here, right now!

ー The flashback ends

Kou: ( I know I said that and all, but I guess I was kind of attached to it after all. )

Manager: ...What has gotten into you?

I was wondering what had caused you to abandon your job for a bit, but even now that you’re back, you’re constantly fretting over something...

Kou: Eh? Ah...My bad.

Manager: If you can apologize, then maybe have some self-awareness as an idol instead.

Do you really think you can appear in front of your fans making that sort of expression? 

Kou: ...Right. I gotta step up my game...

( Today we’ll be unveiling a new line of swimsuits at a special stage set up in the middle of this shopping mall. )

( There’s quite a few well-known models attending and I believe my manager mentioned something about an interview for TV as well. )

( If I do a lousy job, it could ruin my reputation forever... )

Manager: ...Oh well. More importantly, don’t forget to cover up your birthmark before you get on stage, okay?

Kou: Eh? Aah, this one...?

( This mark I got on the side of my torso since birth. Sometimes it’s hard to hide when I’m barely wearing any clothes. )

Don’t worry. I’ll put on a hoodie when I go on stage, so I should be able to hide it. 

Manager: I’d hope so...

I’ll be on stand-by at the sidelines. Come to me as soon as you’re ready. 

...I don’t know what exactly happened, but don’t forget that you have countless of fans, okay?

Kou: I know. I promise I’ll be able to appear as the Mukami Kou they are expecting to see. 

Manager: ...Yes, I’m counting on you.

ー His manager leaves

Kou: ...Haah.

( I better get going soon as well. )

ー Kino shows up behind him

Kino: Wow! That get-up leaves little to the imagination! Idols don’t have it easy, huh?

Kou: ...Kino-kun!? What brings you here?

Kino: I came since I had nothing better to do. I kind of wanted to see what your job is all about.

Kou: You had nothing better to do...? Are you aware that this place is off-limits for outsiders?

Kino: Don’t sweat the details. Can’t you give me special permission as your friend? 

Kou: Haah? Please don’t? I don’t remember us becoming friends. 

Kino: Ahaha. I’m joking! ーー Anyway, that birthmark...

Kou: ...Ah, this? I’ve had it my whole life.

Kino: Hmm? It has an unusual shape. It kind of reminds me of something...

Kou: ...It’s a lily, isn’t it? That’s what I’ve been told before at least.

Kino: Told? Ah, by Eve?

Kou: ...Shut up. That doesn’t matter. 

Kino: Fufu. Did I hit the nail on the head? How nice to see you guys are so close. 

...Wait, that girl has left to be with Subaru, hasn’t she? Ahaha. My bad~? 

Kou: ...What’s your problem?

I’ll get going now, so you better leave before someone sees you.

ー Kou leaves

Kino: A birthmark in the shape of a lily, huh...?

ー Fans begin cheering as the event starts

Attractive Ghoul Lady: ...

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall of the Mukami manor

Kou: ...I’m home.

...

( I’m alone now, so there’s nobody to welcome me home, is there? )

ー He walks to the living room

Kou: ...Haah.

*Thud* 

Kou: ( It’s no fun to hog the couch all to myself. )

ー A flashback ensues

Kou: Hey, Yuiー I’m struggling to unbutton my shirt so can you help me out?

Yui: Sure. One second.

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: ...? Hey, Kou-kun. Have you always had a mark over here...?

Kou: Eh? ...Ah, sorry. I’ve had it since birth.

I usually hide it with concealer but I forgot today.

...I guess it makes sense to be curious about it. Bet you would have rather not seen it though.

Yui: Oh no. I think it looks lovely. 

Kou: Eh...?

Yui: I just thought it looked a lot like a lily...I’m sorry. I guess it’s uncomfortable for you?

Kou: ...No. I’m happy.

To be honest...I’ve always hated this birthmark. 

I’ve had many people tell me ‘if only that mark wasn’t there’ in the past...So I’ve been trying my best to pretend it’s not there.

Yui: Kou-kun...

Kou: But right now...I might have finally grown to like it a little.

A lily, huh? ...Fufu, that’s kind of cute.

ー The flashback ends

Kou: ( ...Exactly. It’s all thanks to her that I was able to view this mark in a positive light. )

( With my family and her by my side...I was able to establish my own identity. )

( And at some point, she became a part of that as well. )

For everyone’s sake, for the sake of the world...

Perhaps I shouldn’t have tried to be the hero like that...

( Maybe I should have just taken Azusa-kun’s advice and ran off somewhere faraway together with her... )

Little late for that now, huh...? Haah...

*Thud*

Kou: ーー !? 

( This presence...Somebody has invaded the manor? )

*Rustle* 

Kou: ( Who could possibly...ーー? )

ー Kou recalls Kino’s words from before

???: ーー In that case, I guess I’ll tag along to the human world.

Azusa: Kino-san...

Kou: Cut it out. You’re annoying so don’t follow me.

Kino: Oh come on, why not? I’ve got a job I’ve got to finish there as well.

You know, I kind of abandoned my Demon-hunting endeavors halfway through.

Kou: ...Gotcha. Be my guest then.

ー The flashback ends

Kou: ...In other words, he plans to hunt me down as well!

...Damnit! What is he hoping to achieve!? 

( I can’t believe he’d betray me the very moment I actually start seeing him as an ally... )

...Ugh...

( ...But I guess it’s fine. If this is an opportunity to get myself killed, I might as well take it. )

( I mean, what point is there in being alive still? )

( ...No, that’s wrong. I still want to ... ーー )

ー Somebody approaches him

Attractive Ghoul Lady: ...

*Cling* 

Kou: ...! What are you here for...?

( The face of this Ghoul. She’s the lady I’ve seen in my dreams before...? )

Monologue

A few days have passed,

since I started living with Subaru-kun.

With Subaru-kun by my side,

I visited Eden,

alongside the other Sakamaki brothers. 

Apparently Ruki-kun and Yuma-kun,

had already been informed about the situation,

by Azusa-kun, who got there first.

The look they would give me,

was complicated to say the least.

I believe that’s because they also know,

that I did not decide to end things with Kou-kun,

because the two of us had a falling out. 

I tried to stay strong and be optimistic,

but it seems like they saw right through my act after all...

I simply could not take it any longer,

so I decided to take my distance,

from the other Mukami brothers.

ー The scene shifts to the inner courtyard at Eden

Yui: ...Haah.

( I heard Kou-kun headed to the human world all by himself... )

( I guess he didn’t want to have to see me, huh? )

( ...I do want to see him. )

( I know I chose Subaru-kun, but I don’t want to pretend as if there was nothing between Kou-kun and myself. )

*Rustle* 

Subaru: ーー Yui.

Yui: Subaru-kun...? What a coincidence running into you here.

ー He suddenly embraces her

Yui: ...!?

L-Let me go...! Why would you embrace me all of a sudden...

Subaru: Fuck off. Why would I let you go? 

I mean, it’s all Kou’s fault for makin’ you do this shit, isn’t it?

I don’t want to see you sad.

Yui: ...That’s not true, Kou-kun holds no blame...

Subaru: Che...You just can’t seem to get him out of your head, can you? 

I’ll make you forgot about him then. ...With these fangs of mine. 

*Rustle* 

Yui: S-Subaru-kun!? Stop!

Subaru: Che, pipe down! Behave!

Yui: ...!

*Rustle* 

Yui: ( Oh no...At this rate, he’llーー ... )

ーー No!!

ー She slaps him

*Smack* 

Subaru: ...

Yui: Ah...M-My bad...

Subaru: ーー Fuck!

*THUD*

ー Subaru stomps back inside the Castle

Reiji: ...Did I not tell you that it would take time? 

Subaru: Like I give a fuck ‘bout that! I don’t remember askin’ for your opinion!

*Flap flap flap*

Reiji: Hm? This is...

...Haah. As if we did not have enough trouble as is.

Subaru: Aah? What happened?

Reiji: Your Mother. Christa-sama has gone missing.

Subaru: Haah!?

Reiji. We’re goin’ back to the Castle pronto, so go call her!

ー Subaru runs off

Reiji: Good grief. He sure knows how to order us around...

ー Reiji walks away as well

*SCENE SHIFT*

Ruki: ...Poor Eve. While this may be her destiny, it is a cruel one...

Yuma: Still, we kinda need her to be with a potential Adam right now, or else we’ll be in deep shit, right?

Ruki: Yes. Exactly.

ー The scene shifts to the guest room at Kino’s room

Kino: ...Ah, by the way, Yuuri. Have you found that rule-breaking Ghoul yet? 

You know, the lady who came to my house uninvited the other day.

I put her on Demon-hunting duty, but I heard that she moved elsewhere without permission. 

Yuuri: Yes. She has trespassed the Mukami manor, out of all places. 

Kino: The Mukamis...? I mean, there is technically a Demon there...

Anyway, go and tell her that she can’t hurt Kou. 

He’s highly valuable to me right now, and I have yet to receive my money from him. 

Yuuri: ...Actually, there is one thing I am worried about in that regard.

That Ghoul is repeatedly whispering some nonsensical words. 

Kino: ...Heeh. Come again? Hey, tell me some more about that. 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lekoumaniacepilog

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 7: This WEEK

I know I say this every week, but this week has been so brutal and I don’t even know how I’m supposed to get over it. It’s mostly the heat and how I’ve just completely given up trying to live a normal human life in temperatures like this, like I am just putting in zero effort here, but it’s not just that. People who think that the weather matters to them but it actually doesn’t because they never go outside are also reporting a this is just A WEEK feeling. (In the words of one co-worker, in response to a comment about it basically being like Friday now, “It’s been Friday since last week.”)

Here’s some stuff that’s happened:

Bicyclist passed too close to me on the law school path (not as bad as other bike incidents in the past but I mentioned it after it happened so it’s become lore)

Co-worker had a weird animal encounter at home, I think geese

Large cockroach in TS

Youths in the library, whose adventures include: attempting to solicit people for cheerleading money donations; using cleaning fluid to spray paint dongs on the microfiche reader; not hearing the get-out announcement and thus toeing the line of actually leaving on time

Really just a whole saga about the youths

Another last minute circ position interview and drama surrounding it

40-45 minute fire drill

Three straight work days of heat index 100+ degree temperatures

Missed my bus and had to spend more time in the 100+ degree heat

Also I missed the bus because I was at the stop at the usual time/on the early side and it was somehow even earlier than that (making me wonder if it missed the whole loop to be honest), and the next loop it was erring toward late and today it was a solid 10 minutes late so what is the truth

Le Grand Piano

Cupcake staff birthday party (this isn’t a bad thing but we did talk a lot about public transportation and sometimes the work-socializing does overwhelm me)

Local attorney called again asking about the book he wants to take out of our trash and my supervisor got so mad about it she was fuming and threatening to rescind her nice deed (offering him the book) to his FACE

Main campus library announced it wants to put a purchase request button the shared Primo homepage, and this news was shared at like 3:45 in the afternoon and immediately sparked a Teams firestorm. Which I’m sure will continue tomorrow as I wade into it

I found out that if you search my co-worker’s name in google images you’ll find 2 photos of him working at another library in his 20s and I shared these with B and his response was “wtf he’s hot.” And now I can’t unsee it

Apparently all the journal staff are incompetent this year and it’s causing some drama

I’ve become obsessed with figuring out if the new Starbucks is open (want that PSL lol) and I just cannot tell. The construction gate is gone but yesterday the entrance was blocked by a line of chairs? Today it was not blocked but it looked dark and abandoned inside? The only news about it is from Dec/Jan talking about how it had a tentative start date of “late summer” and it’s impossible to just search for the address because it’s the second one on the same road (it’s a long road).

…That actually is objectively kind of a lot.

I’m in such a deep hole, I’m not sure how to climb out of it and feel like a normal person again.

#the year 2023 #2023: rl

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 17

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You attend the interview and meet up with Steve.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Alas, no sexy flashbacks or whatevah

A/N: A glimpse into what kind of a man Steve is lmfao so excited to write the next few parts sksksksk

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“You’re really not telling me who this Strawberry Tart Guy is?”

It was the fourth time that Bucky had asked you the same question and it was also going to be the fourth time that you were going to respond with the exact same statement.

“No, because it doesn’t matter and it doesn’t concern you.”

Bucky huffed out, shaking his head in disappointment as he continued with the food tasting. Every single time he tried to explain to you or even attempt to guess who Steve was, he was always interrupted.

Perhaps now wasn’t the right time for the talk.

“He’s younger than you, isn’t he?” Bucky said, his tone was confident and sure.

You made a face at him, “Are you still trying to guess who he is? Because you have got to stop, Bucky. You don’t know him, you’re wasting your time.” you told him, “And no, he isn’t younger. I’ve dealt with immature men before and I’d rather not go through the same thing again.” you said, narrowing your eyes at Bucky meaningfully.

“At least I don’t text you with emojis. What is he, sixteen? And that was clearly the shortcake emoji, it wasn’t even close to a tart.”

You snickered, giving Bucky an incredulous look, “What are you, sixteen?” you retorted.

Bucky opened his mouth to defend himself but couldn’t come up with an explanation, “All I’m saying is that I would’ve used a different emoji for that.”

“And what would you use? I bet you a hundred bucks that if you did use emojis to text me, the eggplant one would be the most used.” you rolled your eyes.

The chuckle coming from the lady caught your and Bucky’s attention. You had completely forgotten about her presence in the room as she waited for both your feedback about the food. She clasped her hands together as she looked at you and then at Bucky.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. The both of you are lovely together, reminded me of my husband and I whenever we argued back in the day. Petty things, I tell you. Seemed such a big deal then but looking back, they were nothing but measly arguments.” she said.

You offered a fake smile, “We’re not a couple though.”

“Of course not.” she responded somewhat sarcastically.

“How about we proceed with the dessert so we can leave?” you asked.

-

“She was nosy as fuck.” you said as soon as you and Bucky slipped back into the car.

The food tasting went well and although it was their wedding reception package, everything tasted great. Bucky made the decision to push through with it so as not to cause anymore delays. The event was fast approaching and it would cause some inconvenience if things were to be rescheduled.

Bucky chuckled as he began to drive, “Leave the lady alone, she’s old. Old people always do that.” he said.

“Anyway,” Bucky trailed, his tone becoming more serious. “Maybe we can talk now?” he asked.

“I’m fine with it, I’m just not sure whether the universe is.” you snickered.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “What, you’re into astrology now?” he teased. “Well then, can I speak up now or will there be more interruptions?” Bucky asked out loud.

When a few seconds passed by without anything happening, Bucky heaved out a deep sigh of relief. He opened his mouth to continue with his explanation when his phone started ringing, making you obnoxiously laugh out loud.

“Guess that means no.” you shrugged.

“Goddammit.” Bucky huffed out, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

You noticed the way Bucky’s expression instantly changed upon checking his phone. He glanced at you and then back at his phone, clicking his tongue before declining it. Not more than five seconds later and his phone began to ring again.

“You’re not going to get that?” you asked.

“It’s my dad.” Bucky curtly responded, his brows furrowing into his forehead as he focused on the road ahead.

It was incredible how his dad managed to shift his mood just like that. The playful Bucky you had been dealing with for most of the day, gone and replaced by his usual cold demeanor. You felt bad for him though, how his own father had such a negative effect on him. It impressed you how Bucky managed to deal with that for so long.

The ringing continued and from the looks of it, his father didn’t seem to have any intention to stop. Bucky cursed under his breath and hastily grabbed his phone again, accepting the call this time around.

“What do you want?” he coldly answered, followed by a moment of silence.

His jaw ticked as he listened to his father and whatever it was they were talking about, it was getting on his nerves. You could see the way Bucky would grit his teeth every now and then, his chest heavily rising and falling with every rapid breath he took.

“Did you really call just to tell me how I should be doing things?” he bitterly laughed into the phone.

“I’m not taking my decision back, he’s out of my company. He’s your friend, not mine.” and with that, Bucky ended the call.

Judging from the bits and pieces you heard, you figured it was about Bucky’s decision to remove Howard Stark as a shareholder. Stark Industries and Barnes Group of Companies go way back due to the friendship between Howard and Bucky’s father. However, when news about Howard’s connections with questionable people surfaced, Bucky decided to cut him off to protect the company’s image.

“You alright?” you asked, noticing how Bucky had gotten extremely anxious after the phone call.

He glanced at you quickly, forcing a smile. “He’s the largest shareholder of the company, a lot of people aren’t happy with my decision.”

You didn’t know much about running a company, but the situation sounded really bad. You could tell that Bucky merely revealed the tip of the iceberg, that there was more to it. He must have noticed the concern in your face because he let out an amused laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my problem not yours.” he reassured.

Upon arriving back at the office, Beverly quickly notified Bucky of the phone calls he needed to return. He turned to you with an apologetic gaze, promising you that he’d explain as soon as he gets the chance to do so.

“At the event.” you said.

“What?”

“We can talk at the event. Hopefully by then, we won’t get interrupted. Besides, we’d both be really busy next week.” you suggested.

Bucky nodded albeit sadly, knowing that the event also meant your departure from the company.

-

Good luck today! Meet me after your interview? 😊

You had just secured a parking spot outside of Shield Recruitment Firm’s building when you received a text from Steve. It felt odd to be receiving texts from him since the two of you only exchanged a few words. But Steve seemed like a really nice person, it felt easy to warm up to his attitude.

Sure! Just let me know where to meet, see you!

Taking your bag and an envelope, you stepped out of your car and headed inside the building. You were instantly ushered into a small meeting room when you gave the receptionist your name.

A few minutes later, a tall woman stepped inside with a friendly smile.

“Hi, Maria Hill. Thank you so much for coming today.” She greeted, shaking your hand before inviting you to sit back down.

Maria went on to explain that their firm was hired to process all the applicants for the company in search for the right candidates. She gave a little more information about the process before requesting for a copy of your resume and the forms she had previously asked you to fill out.

“Here you go.” You told her, handing over the documents.

Maria skimmed through the papers before facing you once more, “Alright, so as promised, I will be disclosing the details about the company. We’re looking for a Brand Manager for the hotel, Infinity Residences. Are you familiar with it?” She asked.

You nodded with a little bit of a frown, knowing the history behind the said hotel. “If I may ask, didn’t they announce that they will be closing down due to financial issues?” You curiously asked.

Maria lightly laughed, nodding her head. “Yes, I know it sounds worrisome. However, J.R. International decided to add the hotel in their roster and is now planning to have it undergo major rebranding. Hence, the Brand Manager position.” She continued to explain.

J.R. International just happened to be one of the largest hotel chains in the country and recently, they started to venture out into other countries as well. They’re a pretty big deal as opposed to what Steve told you.

The interview continued and Maria clearly explained that the Brand Manager position was a very vital one, given that the responsibilities were focused on building the hotel’s new image after almost being shut down. She seemed impressed by your work experience and informed you that she will be discussing your application with the hiring manager.

“Please expect an update about the status of your application within the next week.” she said and shook your hand again before leading you out of the room.

When you checked for your phone, Steve had already messaged you.

I’ll see you at the coffee shop across the building!☕

-

“You’ve got some explaining to do.” you said as soon as you sat across Steve.

He looked extra formal today, clad in a white dress shirt and black tie, topped with a navy blue suit. Steve stared at you with amusement, chuckling to himself as he called for a waiter.

“Nothing too big? That’s what you said about the company which turned out to be J.R. International!” you told him.

Steve shrugged, “The job was for Infinity Residences, technically it isn’t a big company...yet.” he explained.

You and Steve talked about your interview while the both of you had brunch. When you felt like you were the only one doing the talking, you decided to turn the tables around and ask more about him.

“So what do you do over at J.R. International?” you asked, “With how enthusiastic you are with my interview, I’m starting to suspect you’re getting commission for every successful recruit.” you eyed him suspiciously.

Steve laughed and shook his head, “I’m in the operations department, it’s a boring job.” he said. “You know I never asked, where do you work?” he asked, resting his forearms on the table as he leaned forward.

Not wanting to give out a lot of details, you gave a pretty vague answer. “I’m in the automotive industry.”

Steve looked impressed, “That’s interesting. Why’d you want to leave?” he asked, taking a sip from his iced tea. “If you don’t mind me asking.” he quickly explained.

You hummed and thought about what to say because honestly, the only reason why you wanted to leave was because of Bucky. It’s not like you can say that you fucked the CEO and things went to shit, right?

“Initially, I assumed it was about compensation but seeing your expression now? I’m guessing it has something to do with the management.” Steve guessed.

You nervously laughed, “Uh well, there are a lot of factors.” you said, dancing around the topic.

Steve grinned as he rested against his chair, crossing his large arms over his chest. “Your boss is an asshole.” he chuckled.

You made a face, squinting your eyes at him, “Well, you’re not entirely wrong. But I also just wanted to try out something new, you know? A change of environment would be really nice.”

All throughout lunch, you had enjoyed Steve’s company. He was very easy to get along with and was genuinely kind. He had insisted on paying for everything, given that he was the one who invited you for lunch but you politely turned him down and offered to split the bill instead.

“You’re very persistent.” Steve chuckled as he watched you bring out some cash.

You shrugged with nonchalance, “What can I say, I’m an independent woman.” you laughed.

“So I guess that means you’re single, then?” Steve curiously asked but it didn’t sound like there was malice in it.

There was something so naive and innocent about Steve that made him feel like a breath of fresh air to be around with. He wasn’t intimidating despite his good-looks and he seemed like a really down to earth kind of guy.

“Well, yeah.” you said, unaware of how unsure your face looked.

Steve shook his head in amusement, “I’m gonna go with complicated.” he stated, “You’re very easy to read, not going to lie.” he said.

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Guess I can’t keep secrets around you.” you said.

After paying the bill, Steve walked you out of the coffee shop and to your car, “Hey, thanks again for the referral.” you said.

“Happy to help, do keep me updated on the status of your application. Maybe if you get the job we can go have dinner?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

You lightly laughed, “And if I don’t get the job?” you asked.

Steve shrugged, placing his hands in the pockets of his pants. “I’d still want to take you out. Only if you’re up for it, of course.” he explained.

“Take me out with a sniper or to dinner?” you joked.

Steve feigned to be thinking hard, “You know what, you choose. I’m up for both.” he said, making you laugh out loud.

You smiled at him before slipping inside your car, “I’ll think about it, Steve.”

-

Your interview and Steve’s invitation to dinner was long forgotten during the next few days due to the final preparations for the launch event. True enough, Bucky was just as busy as you were to the point that you rarely ran into each other at the office. You were working mostly with Sam and your team, going back and forth with suppliers to check whether everything was in order.

Of course, Sam made it a point to remind you of his pending offer which you needed to decide on as soon as the event was over.

Now that you were thinking about it, you had a lot of things to deal with after the event. The adrenaline rush prevented you from thinking about all these things you needed to face. Your resignation, Sam’s offer, informing Bev and Mark that you were leaving and well, the talk with Bucky.

Your drive home from work gave you some quiet time to wind down from a busy day at work. It was now a little past ten on a Tuesday night, you needed to render some overtime to finish everything since the event was already tomorrow.

It felt weird to not be occupied with work, it gave some room for your forgotten thoughts to resurface, most of them involving your and Bucky’s relationship.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a message from Bucky.

Ready for tomorrow?

You waited until you reached your apartment building to type in a reply.

I guess? I hope everything goes according to plan.

As soon as you reached your floor, you immediately noticed the huge silver box at your doorstep. It was tied with a black, silk ribbon around it and didn’t have some sort of a card or anything. Frowning, you brought it inside and placed it on top of your bed.

You received another message from Bucky.

I’m sure it will, I owe you for this event.

Don’t speak too soon, you might jinx it! Aren’t you nervous? With your dad being there…

I trust you enough to know that everything will be perfect.

Reading Bucky’s message made you let out a strangled groan, hating how it made your stomach flutter. Not wanting to dwell on Bucky’s never ending effect on you, you threw your phone aside and focused on the box instead.

Opening it, you realized that it was a black dress. A white envelope was placed on top of the fabric, which by the way, seemed expensive. Taking out the card from the envelope, you found out that it was obviously from Bucky.

Beverly mentioned in passing that you didn’t have time to buy something to wear for the event. Please don’t take this the wrong way, I just want to help. Consider this a little gift of appreciation for all the hardwork.

You deserve to look the most beautiful during the event you worked so hard for.

I can’t wait to finally talk to you after. Hope the universe lets me though.

P.S. I hope I got the size correctly, I just based it on my memory.

- B

You would have melted right there and then if it wasn’t for that last statement about Bucky’s memory of your body. However, the gift still managed to put a smile on your face. You gave up on the idea of shopping for a new dress given how busy you were and Bucky’s gesture, no matter how simple he thought it might be, was actually a big deal for you.

You didn’t have anything decent to wear for the event and you weren’t able to borrow some from your friends either.

Pulling the dress (inspo - https://ibb.co/LpDnqqh) out from the box, you gasped at how beautiful and classy it was. Rushing into the bathroom, you quickly put it on to see how it would fit you. Grabbing your phone, you quickly sent a message to Bucky.

I’ll see you tomorrow, Bucky.

And thank you for the dress, it fits perfectly. Guess I should be thanking your razor sharp memory too.

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #fem!reader #sebastian stan

[pies-writes-and-more]

things they do when they love you

Characters: Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Tanaka Ryūnosuke, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kozume Kenma, Tendō Satori, & Ushijima Wakatoshi, all with a Fem!Reader

Warnings: literally nothing - pure fluff <3

A/N: sorry for the lack of content lately! I’ve been super busy with work and school and I feel myself starting to get selfconscious of my work again so I’m hoping I can break through the writers block it comes with! Hope you enjoy! Also thank you to @thisnoodlewritesao3​ and @satan-ruler-of-hells​ for listening to me talk about this fic probably a million times lol

haikyuu masterlist

Kageyama is awkward with telling you how he feels so he just tries to give you things to show you. like you mentioned once you liked the protein bar that Coach gave you guys and now he bought every single one of them from the store and is bringing it to your house. Oh did you say you liked milk too? Well I guess he’ll just have to bring you the whole fucking vending machine. Just wants to show he will provide you with all the things you love, pls love him back. I feel like he’d also be bugging his older sister all the time - asking her all sorts of questions about girls. She’s the reason your first date wasn’t at a volleyball game (and also the reason why he no longer thinks your first date was the first time you attended his games. “Tobio, a date is supposed to be where the two of you are hanging out together.” “But.... we are together. She’s watching me play.” “.... somewhere where your whole team and the whole of the Miyagi prefecture isn’t!”)

Tsukishima will let you pamper him lol. He likes the attention so when you’re doing face masks, he’ll like look through them and ask you questions about them. Sometimes it comes off as he’s judging you for spending money on this stuff but he’s really just waiting for you to ask if he wants to try one. You bought a dino face mask specifically for him but you thought he’d laugh at you if you asked. So you just kept it with the rest of your sheet masks. You’re putting one on one day and he’s like …. is that a dinosaur. And you’re like…. no? And immediately he’s like well now I have to have it please show me how to put this one. Lol cut to: it does nOT look like a dinosaur (have yall seen those ones that’s supposed to like look like a penguin or lion or something and just looks psychotic??? yeah that). He still likes it and even lets you take a picture of his first face mask cause you just look so happy that you’re doing it with him. It becomes a ritual and any time you’re doing face masks, he’ll do it with you and you just spill all the tea to him about shit you’ve heard at work or school and he just listens and aggressively calls everyone stupid  lol

Tanaka aggressively praises you non stop but like in a good way haha. Did you just post a photo on instagram? He’s liked it first, commented a thousand different things about how he loves your outfit and your expression and how you’re the light of his life, and then he sHARES the photo to his story and is like look at how pretty my girlfriend is yall wish this was you. Oh did you just get a good grade at school??? Non stop bragging to his teammates about how he’s dating a genius (“I mean anyone’s a genius compared to you” “Tsukishima that is NO WAY TO TALK TO YOUR UPPERCLASSMAN YOU ASSHOLE”). If you’re feeling upset about something, he’ll comfort you and all but also tell you that you’re such a badass you could handle anything. And it’s not like empty compliments either - he genuinely believes that you are the most amazing human being to ever walk the planet

Yamaguchi (okay I got this idea partially from @/paige.ipairs on tiktok but it’s so cute that i had to put it here) likes doing anything with you so he likes it when you’re out shopping and you help him pick a new outfit or you style something for him. But his favourite thing is when you’re painting your nails and he’s like … that’s a nice colour… and you’re like Yamaguchi would you like… your nails painted? And at first it’s just the one finger and it’s a matching colour with you. Like on his ring finger to symbolize he’s with you but then soon he’s with you at the mall looking at different colours and picks out one’s he would like for you to paint for him and he just carries them over to you like .. o.o pls

Kenma will actively look for 2 player games that he can play with you. He’ll pretend like it’s nothing and that he just wants to try the game for the 1 player story but he’ll leave a controller out and just kind waits for you to ask to play or pick up the controller. He really likes it when you play, even if you wander around a lot and aren’t super focused on the story line. Minecraft with the two of you is always fun. He thinks it’s really funny how aggressive you get trying to save your animals from the zombies even though they won’t get hurt. You teared up once cause the pen you made for your chickens got blown up by a Creeper and he actually felt so bad even though you told him it was definitely not his fault. Cut to: you screaming aggressively when it comes to any Creeper as revenge for the chickens who were lost in the battle.

Tendō starts reading your favourite mangas and watches all of your favourite series/movies before you two really started dating because he wanted to know what to talk to you about. But now that you guys are together, he’ll plan dates where you can binge-watch all of your favourite movies/shows or just lie around and trade mangas (you had this man actually crying at some of them, he wasn’t ready for the hURT). If you’re not the biggest fan of horror films, he’ll insist that you guys don’t need to watch them but he loves when you stick it out with him cause it means extra cuddles and more snacks as comfort! If you do love horror films, he’ll always buy tickets to the new movies so the two of you can watch it together right away.

Ushijima will hold you no matter where you guys are. Big beefy boy doesn’t really understand why he wouldn’t hold you, even if you guys were in public. When you guys first started dating, you’d avoid reaching out for his hand because you figured big stoic guy like Ushijima, he wouldn’t really be a PDA kind of guy would he? Wrong. Well right, but also wrong. Boy probably doesn’t even realize what PDA is but he’ll reach for your hand and hold it anytime. And if you guys are waiting in line somewhere, he’ll just hold you in his arms in front of him. He has no sense of when not to do this. It’s like you’re his comfort person (which you are). In front of his Coach? Suddenly has you in front of him, hugging you to him. Being interviewed by some reporters? Oh look, you’re here too. Reminding Oikawa that he should’ve come to Shiratorizawa? You’re right in front sticking your tongue out at the Aoba Josai boi like the child you are lol. Honestly, he doesn’t think it’s weird but he knows deep down that he’s just really scared you’ll leave. He likes knowing you’re around because it reminds him you’re always there. 

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas​ @aurumk​ @devilkittymusic​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​ @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @trashy-simp​ @jeppiet​ @lucyheartfilias-wife​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @livy384​ @babyshoyo​

#haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #tsukishima x reader #kageyama x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #yamaguchi x reader #tanaka x you #tanaka x reader #pieswrites #haikyuu!!

[goodnightmemes]

DEXTER SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)

Lines taken from 2x07-2x12 of the show Dexter. Feel free to change pronouns or edit in any way to better fit your needs. Here is part one.

❛ I thrive on chaos. But this is good, too. ❜

❛ I had to do a little creative problem-solving at someone else's expense. ❜

❛ Pardon my tits. ❜

❛ Are you trying to fuck her or set her on fire? ❜

❛ Sometimes the truth speaks from a peaceful place. It's taken me a long time to find that place, but I think I have, and it's telling me you're not the right one for me. I'm so sorry. ❜

❛ Is that what I am? Clean? 'cause I don't feel that way at all. ❜

❛ No, I won't do that. I won't let you turn me into you. ❜

❛ Hope you don't expect me to comment on that so you can record it on your hidden tape recorder. I wasn't born yesterday. ❜

❛ Your past is a bigger mystery than fucking Jimmy Hoffa. ❜

❛ No matter what you try, no matter when, no matter how hard you work, I'll always be a step ahead of you for one simple reason. I own you. ❜

❛ When I'm alone and it's quiet, I get scared shitless, like I start hearing what's really going on inside. ❜

❛ 'Cause when you're around, I kind of feel like I can deal with anything, you know? ❜

❛ I've always worked best in the shadows, and that's where I have to stay. ❜

❛ You can't go back. You know that. ❜

❛ You are not allowed to talk about anyone I date as long as you're seeing little Miss "pardon my tits." ❜

❛ She is obviously a vampire. A gross english-titty vampire. ❜

❛ Can't change who I am. I'm crass and dirty, and...I have a very filthy mind. ❜

❛ Jesus Christ. They sell anyone a gun in Florida, won't they? ❜

❛ That man. He wasn't trying to rob you. He was trying to kill you. ❜

❛ Nothing you could do,___, would scare me. ❜

❛ Whatever comes, we'll get through this together. I'm not leaving your side. ❜

❛ I need to embrace who I am, who I've always been. ❜

❛ It's like I've been living underwater, holding my breath, and now I can finally breathe. ❜

❛ ___ almost had me believing it was possible to change, to become something else, as if that ever really happens. I've always known what I am. ❜

❛ I'm finding it's best to accept things you can't change, you know? ❜

❛ Is this the monster that you keep telling me about? ❜

❛ Trust me, when you meet the monster, you'll know. ❜

❛ Nice. My subconscious isn't even bothering with symbolism. ❜

❛ I feel...such regret, which is rare for me. But not that I don't mess up. I do...just never so stupendously. ❜

❛ If they're looking for proof, they won't find it. Not here at least. ❜

❛ Then maybe you should come with us, because who knows what secrets will come ❜ pouring out of me once the drinks start flowing. ❜

❛ I'm done with it and you. Did I not make that clear last night? ❜

❛ Those friends of yours, they didn't even know you. They just see the mask, but I see it all. ❜

❛ Can't live with her. Can't kill her. ❜

❛ Fuck! I'm talking about my feelings. What the fuck is your problem? ❜

❛ I've always sensed there was something... off about him. Like he's hiding in plain sight. ❜

❛ If you got in the middle of this and you got hurt… ❜

❛ The only way I can help you is if you turn yourself in. ❜

❛ Don't you disappear on me. ❜

❛ I want you to know that you meant a lot to me, more than you know, and... I just want to thank you for that. ❜

❛ If I never see her again, it'll be too soon. ❜

❛ Sleep would be nice, but there's too much to do. ❜

❛ Okay, I may be sleeping with him, but it doesn't mean he tells me shit or listens to me about anything, so stop asking! ❜

❛ That's right, motherfucker! It's over. ❜

❛ I knew there was something with you. But this shit? ❜

❛ What can I say? You were right about me. I never held it against you. I don't now. ❜

❛ It's a graze wound. Minor tissue abrasion. No hemorrhage along the bullet track. Sorry. I think I'm gonna live. ❜

❛ If you're not gonna let me go, then kill me now. Just get it over with. ❜

❛ You're a killer. I catch killers. ❜

❛ So it's okay to take a life as long as you get a paycheck for it? ❜

❛ Either kill me or set me free. ❜

❛ Taking a life is one thing, but the care and feeding of it is another. ❜

❛ I'm generally confused most of the time. ❜

❛ You ever care about anyone? Then you shouldn't have to ask. 'Cause when you care about someone, you do what you have to do. ❜

❛ I remember when life was easy, when the only question I worried about was "who's next?" Now it's: "How can I dodge my protective detail? "What should I do with my hostage?" These are not easy questions. ❜

❛ It's not about what I think. It's all about the evidence. ❜

❛ Hair-pulling may not be manly, but it's very effective. ❜

❛ If he wanted me dead, I'd be dead by now. ❜

❛ You are the only one I can count on, jackass. ❜

❛ It puts a pit in my stomach that I can only interpret as... sadness. ❜

❛ You working on an exit strategy? I'm afraid that's not gonna happen. ❜

❛ How come there's never a circus when you need one? ❜

❛ What was that shit last night? Some kind of fucking scare tactic? ❜

❛ Don't test me. I could have killed you. I didn't. ❜

❛ You're actually angry. I've never seen you angry. This is good. ❜

❛ I should warn you. You can't play on my feelings. I don't have any. ❜

❛ It's a tough job. It can wear on even the best of us. ❜

❛ I yell a lot...and bitch and complain, and I keep expecting people to guess what I want, but I never really say it. ❜

❛ And that was exciting, you know? The not knowing. What might happen, what could be. It was all possibility. ❜

❛ Your life is going to rest in the hands of the criminal justice system you put all your faith in. I wish you the best of luck. ❜

❛ You need help. Let me help you. ❜

❛ You don't have to do this! You don't have to kill this man! ❜

❛ Sorry it had to go down like this. But there really was no other way. ❜

❛ Stay away. Just stay away from me. ❜

❛ Did you happen to be stuffing a human leg into a garbage bag at that point? ❜

❛ There's that anger again. You got to let that out. ❜

❛ You're spinning. Let me help you. It's only a matter of time before you'll hurt someone else. ❜

❛ Take responsibility for who you are. ❜

❛ Why can't you just let me go? ❜

❛ If I got to choose a person... A real person... to be like, out of anyone, it'd be you. ❜

❛ Who joined who in the shower this morning? ❜

❛ For such a neat monster, I'm making an awfully big mess. ❜

❛ Maybe this is how evil works. Destroying everything it touches. ❜

❛ I've been held prisoner in a cabin for two fucking days. Fucking hellhole. ❜

❛ After everything we've been through lately, I just want... to be together with you guys. ❜

❛ You told me to take responsibility for what I am. You were right. ❜

❛ I can't live in this house of cards anymore, waiting for it all to fall down. I need to do something, you know? ❜

❛ If I do this, I need a day to get my affairs in order. ❜

❛ Mention that when they interview you for the story of my life. ❜

❛ Don't leave me in this cage, anything could happen. ❜

❛ I lie to everyone I know... except my victims right before I kill them. It's hard to establish much of a rapport there. ❜

❛ Sorry about the cage. ❜

❛ I've always been curious to try. Do you have any weed? ❜

❛ Love's a battlefield. Or in your case, a restraining order. ❜

❛ When a pretty girl smiles and bats her eyelashes, we're powerless to resist. ❜

❛ I met with a lawyer yesterday. He helped me prepare a living trust that gives you control of all my assets in the event of my death or... certain other situations. ❜

❛ God. Go away. This is creepy. ❜

❛ I'm free tonight, you wanna stop by? We'll have beer, a couple of steaks? I wanna talk to you about something. ❜

❛ I just need you to know that... you and the kids are very important to me. No matter what happens, I want you to always know that. ❜

❛ I know I've been taking things slow with us, but it's not because I don't have feelings for you. It's more like I have too many feelings, and I just wanna make sure to get it right. ❜

❛ I want you gone. Tonight. ❜

❛ I've spent a lifetime keeping up my guard, watching my back, wearing my mask. Relief was never in sight until now. ❜

❛ Lately, I was starting to feel like I had my head pretty far up my ass. ❜

❛ You decide who you are, who you want to be...and you hold onto that and ride it out. ❜

❛ I need some help! Just open the door! I'm being held captive. ❜

❛ Damn, it's good to see another face. I never thought I would. ❜

❛ When something beyond reason happens, it turns skeptics into believers. ❜

❛ If you believe that God makes miracles, you have to wonder if Satan has a few up his sleeve. ❜

❛ I can't exactly feel their pain, but I can appreciate it. ❜

❛ I kinda forgot who I was. I got it straight now. ❜

❛ The term is homicidal maniac. Not that I'm judging. ❜

❛ A public place. You thought I was gonna...That I would slip my needle into your neck? ❜

❛ You're afraid of me now, aren't you? ❜

❛ You're emotionally color-blind. You use the right words, you pantomime the right behavior, but feelings never come to pass. ❜

❛ You know the dictionary definition of emotions: longing, joy, sorrow...You have no idea of what any of those things actually feel like. ❜

❛ I created a monster of my own. ❜

❛ What did you do to make her so pathetically crazy for you? Does your dick dance? ❜

❛ What're we doing home in the middle of the day? She asked, hoping for sex. ❜

❛ Why? Why do I have to make up my mind? ❜

❛ I've never put much weight onto the idea of a higher power. But if I didn't know better, I'd have to believe that some force out there wants me to keep doing what I'm doing. ❜

❛ As it turns out, nobody mourns the wicked. ❜

❛ Am I evil? Am I good? I'm done asking those questions. I don't have the answers. ❜

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp meme #inbox meme #ask meme #rp memes #*tv #*dexter #*mine

[thecoleopterawithana]

“Beatles is it!”

After I came across this interview by John and Yoko, I wanted to further explore the events of Friday, 12 September 1969 and the following week. Particularly since, as legend goes, this was the day John privately decided to leave the Beatles. 

Earlier that week — either on Monday or Tuesday — John, Paul and George had a meeting at Apple, which they record for Ringo, who was in the hospital doing exams on his intestines at the time. The three attending Beatles discuss their next album and a potential Christmas single. Most of what we know from that meeting concerns the matter of track distribution in the next album, and whether they should now have a set 4-4-4-2 allocation system. Regardless, they seemed to be pretty much planning for the future.

Then on Friday, John and Yoko give an interview to various publications, where John closes it by saying:

[T]he Beatles are always discussing, "Should we go on or shouldn't we? Why are we together for now?" And what it gets down to is I like playing rock n' roll and I like making rock n' roll records. Now, I've got either the choice— if I want the whole LP to myself — is to get a few musicians together. Now, I know that— I've played with other musicians — just very rarely, but occasionally I've played with them — and it needs some work together to get anything going. I don't like session men, so I try not to use them. I don't like violinists or anything these days. I try not to use anybody but the Beatles. And if I wanted to make a record I'd chose the Beatles! I can say, "Give me a 'Be Bop A Lula’". So therefore, we've got that going. And even from a commercial point, when we discuss it, "What's the biggest selling name? Beatles or John Lennon and The Fabs? Or George Harrison and The Fabs?" Which— Where's our biggest market? It's Beatles! Who are our closest friends? Beatles! Who do we have the most arguments with? Beatles. So Beatles is it!

So, from this excerpt we can gather that The Beatles had been talking about whether or not they should go on. This is nothing new. They’d been forced to constantly consider their continued existence as a band in the early days of “When is the bubble gonna burst?”. They’d already far outlived their initial expectations and the only long-term plans John and Paul ever had was on the longevity of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting team.

JOHN: You can be big-headed and say, “Yeah, we’re gonna last 10 years.” But as soon as you said that you think, “We’re lucky if we last 3 months!”

PAUL: We’ve thought about it a probably the thing that John and I will do will be write songs, as we have been doing as a sort of side-line now. We’ll probably develop that a bit more, we hope. Who knows, at 40 we may not know how to write songs any more.

The decision to stop touring and retreat to the studio in 1966 was another big moment they actively chose to reinvent themselves in order to be able to continue as a group. And all through the Get Back sessions at the beginning of 1969, there was a constant dialogue on what did they need to do to sustain them going forward.

GEORGE: Well, what I was saying about the songs was like, the reason, you know, like, I’ve got about twenty songs from 1948 was because I knew very well the moment I’d bring them in the studio, that – [blows raspberry] there it’s gone, you know. PAUL: Yeah. GEORGE: And, uh, so I never did. And, like, slowly now, I can bring a couple out because I can get it more like how it should have been then. And that’s – you know, it’s like, it’s just… PAUL: You see, but it doesn’t matter what’s going wrong. It really doesn’t matter what’s going wrong, as long as the four of us notice it. GEORGE: [disbelieving; laughs] Well, I’ve noticed it, alright. PAUL: No, but and – and – instead of just noticing it, determine to put it right, you know. [pause] ‘Cause that’s what I’m – that’s what I’m onto. GEORGE: Maybe we should have a divorce. PAUL: Well, I said that last week, you know. But it’s getting nearer. JOHN: Who’d have the children? PAUL: [pause] Dick James. JOHN: Oh, yeah.

From this piece of dialog we can see that George’s concerns with being able to put his own songs out will still be discussed over half a year later, in that meeting in 9 September 1969. So George suggests a divorce, to which Paul replies he’d said the same thing the previous week. John worries about who’d get the children (their songs), and in an unfortunate fit of prophetic irony, Paul answers Dick James. But more on John and Paul’s custody battle for their creative offspring later.

Getting back to John’s statement in 12 September 1969, we see again a continuation of their preoccupations with track allocation on their albums. John states that if he really wanted to get the whole LP to himself, the solution would be to just gather other musicians. But crucially, he goes on to explain how there’s no way to replace the easy flow and implicit communication the Beatles have with each other, resulting from a lot of shared time and experiences.

[T]he Beatles are always discussing, "Should we go on or shouldn't we? Why are we together for now?" And what it gets down to is I like playing rock n' roll and I like making rock n' roll records. Now, I've got either the choice— if I want the whole LP to myself — is to get a few musicians together. Now, I know that— I've played with other musicians — just very rarely, but occasionally I've played with them — and it needs some work together to get anything going. I don't like session men, so I try not to use them. I don't like violinists or anything these days. I try not to use anybody but the Beatles. And if I wanted to make a record I'd chose the Beatles! I can say, "Give me a 'Be Bop A Lula’". So therefore, we've got that going.

So even now, for John, “Beatles is it.”

It happens that later that evening, live music promotor John Brower — who was hoping to get some high profile guests to boost the sales of the Toronto Rock and Roll Revival festival happening the following day — called the Apple offices. John got on the phone with him and accepted the invitation, assuming he’d get to perform.

We got this phone call on a Friday night that there was a rock’n’roll revival show in Toronto with a 100,000 audience, or whatever it was, and that Chuck was going to be there and Jerry Lee and all the great rockers that were still living, and Bo Diddley, and supposedly The Doors were top of the bill. They were inviting us as king and queen to preside over it, not play – but I didn’t hear that bit. I said, ‘Just give me time to get a band together,’ and we went the next morning.

— John Lennon, (1969). In The Anthology.

While recounting it later, John says “a band”. But I think he first attempted to gather the Beatles. Not only because it’s completely in line with his quote from earlier that day, where he clearly stated he tries “not to use anybody but the Beatles”, but also from how George later recounts it.

When the Plastic Ono Band went to Toronto in September John actually asked me to be in the band, but I didn’t do it. I didn’t really want to be in an avant-garde band, and I knew that was what it was going to be. He said he’d get Klaus Voormann, and Alan White as the drummer. During the last few years of The Beatles we were all producing other records anyway, so we had a nucleus of friends in the studios: drummers and bass players and other musicians. So it was relatively simple to knock together a band. He asked me if I’d play guitar, and then he got Eric Clapton to go – they just rehearsed on the plane over there.

— George Harrison, in The Anthology.

So, John receives a call Friday night and spontaneously decides to go play live in Toronto the following day. By the time he’s on the phone with George asking him to go with him, John says he plans to get Klaus Voormann to play bass and Alan White to play drums. So I have a feeling there had been a couple of calls to the other members before George got his. And potentially, like George, the other two said no.

Now, there are a lot of reasons for why Paul and Ringo also declined embarking on this impromptu adventure to suddenly perform live, in front of an audience. After all, The New York Times still reports that Ringo is in the hospital only a few days earlier, on 10 September 1969. And Paul himself had a two-week-old baby Mary at home. So one could see why they were unavailable. And once this shifted from a Beatles thing, to a group that John was trying to quickly put together, it makes sense George too gave it a pass, for the reasons he mentioned above.

But John was keen on going, even if it meant playing with other musicians, similar to how he, Yoko and others joined The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus as The Dirty Mac, back in December 1968. And so the first performing line-up of the Plastic Ono Band was formed:

It was very, very quick. We didn’t have a band then – we didn’t even have a group that had played with us for more than half a minute. I called Eric and I got Klaus, and we got Alan White and they said, ‘OK.’ There was no big palaver – it wasn’t like this set-format show that I’d been doing with The Beatles where you go on and do the same numbers – I Want To Hold Your Head – and the show lasts twenty minutes and nobody’s listening, they’re just screaming and the amps are as big as a peanut and it’s more a spectacular rather than rock’n’roll.

— John Lennon, (1969). In The Anthology. 

However, this sequence of events seems to have had a big impact on John, who in the space of a few hours goes from having recently stated that the Beatles are it — that they stay together because what they have can’t be replicated with other people, they offer the most financial security and their his closest friends — and so if given the choice, he’ll always chose to play with the Beatles, to having the sudden chance to play live with the Beatles and having the other three say no, letting him down and forcing him to find a replacement. Apparently, this perceived abandonment shook him so much that he’d later recall this as the moment he decided to leave himself.  

We were in Apple and I knew before I went to Toronto, I told Allen [Klein] I was leaving. I told Eric Clapton and Klaus that I was leaving and I’d like to probably use them as a group. I hadn’t decided how to do it, to have a permanent new group or what. And then later on I thought, ‘Fuck it, I’m not going to get stuck with another set of people, whoever they are.’ So I announced it to myself and to the people around me on the way to Toronto the few days before. On the plane Allen came with me, and I told him, ‘It’s over.’

— John Lennon, interviewed by Jann Wenner for Rolling Stone (December 1970).

My emphasis on this moment is not necessarily as a “point or no return” for John on the whole Beatles thing. I think there was no such thing, for any of them, really. 

I just find it very informative towards understanding John’s state of mind at the time. Putting it into context this way not only highlights John’s volatility (”Beatles is it” -> “It’s over”), but it reinforces how emotionally charged his statements and decisions were. That shift in stance didn’t seem to happen out of the blue, but in reaction to something. Something that he really cares about.

It’s also fascinating that in retrospect he points to this moment — and not a moment sooner — for when he actually seriously considered leaving for the first time. They’ve discussed it throughout the years, and both Ringo and George have actually got up and left at some point; but even during the Get Back sessions John seemed to be mostly on the side of wanting the Beatles thing to go on. 

JOHN: The point is, if George leaves, do we want to carry on The Beatles? I do.

By Monday, 15 September 1969, John and Yoko are back in the Apple Corps office in London, giving an interview to ITV News. 

Q: Can we now expect some kind of solo John Lennon act?

JOHN: I don’t think I’d perform solo at all. If I feel like performing I’ll perform. I mean, would you call ‘Give Peace A Chance’ a solo performance? Maybe it is, I just play it by ear; if I feel like doing it, I’ll do it.

During this interview he also talks how they were “full of junk” (heroin) and how he’d been throwing up for hours before he went on and almost vomited during ‘Cold Turkey’.

Remember when I told you we’d come back to John and Paul’s custody battle for their songs? Well that Tuesday, 16 September 1969, Maclen Music Limited (John and Paul’s US publishing company) starts legal proceedings against Northern Songs (John and Paul’s UK publishing company). Helmed by Allen Klein, it was an attempt to delay the latter’s selling. (Once upon a time I answer an ask delving into the whole Northern Songs saga, which you can find here.)

But it was for naught. That very Friday, 19 September 1969, John and Paul would lose control of Northern Songs, and consecutively most of their Lennon-McCartney compositions. 

Earlier on that same day, Paul talks with David Wigg for the BBC Radio 1 series Scene And Heard. Besides talking about his new babies (Mary and Abbey Road), he also addresses a return to live performances and how he got bored with the repetition of playing to big audiences. 

PAUL: I personally — if we're going to do anything — prefer to just go right back to a small club. Just have 50 people in and sing to them, have a bit of a sing-song. I'd get more fun from that!

Q: And what about John? He seems to be—

PAUL: John loves it!

Q: —want to get back and perform. Isn't this going to cause a sort of division in the group?

PAUL: No, no! No, the thing is, John wants to do that. And I think it's great! See, I've just said I don't particularly like the idea of playing to those many people, but I'd hate to stop him doing it. He loves it! He did this Toronto thing and had a really great time. So I'd be the last person to say, “Well you know, don't do it because you've got to... just do it with the Beatles, or stuff." And it's a great idea anyway.

Paul repeated this idea in the Beatles meeting the following day, on 20 September 1969:

I’d said: ‘I think we should go back to little gigs – I really think we’re a great little band. We should find our basic roots, and then who knows what will happen? We may want to fold after that, or we may really think we’ve still got it.’ John looked at me in the eye and said: ‘Well, I think you’re daft. I wasn’t going to tell you till we signed the Capitol deal’ – Klein was trying to get us to sign a new deal with the record company – ‘but I’m leaving the group!’ We paled visibly and our jaws slackened a bit.

I must admit we’d known it was coming at some point because of his intense involvement with Yoko. John needed to give space to his and Yoko’s thing. Someone like John would want to end The Beatles period and start the Yoko period; and he wouldn’t like either to interfere with the other. But what wasn’t too clever was this idea of: ‘I wasn’t going to tell you till after we signed the new contract.’ Good old John – he had to blurt it out. And that was it. There’s not a lot you can say to, ‘I’m leaving the group,’ from a key member.

I didn’t really know what to say. We had to react to him doing it; he had control of the situation. I remember him saying, ‘It’s weird this, telling you I’m leaving the group, but in a way it’s very exciting.’ It was like when he told Cynthia he was getting a divorce. He was quite buoyed up by it, so we couldn’t really do anything: ‘You mean leaving’? So that’s the group, then…’ It was later, as the fact set in, that it got really upsetting.

— Paul McCartney, in The Anthology.

It’s only recently that Paul has put into words the hurt he felt in that moment (something that we already knew from Mal Evan’s recounts of that day, and how Paul “spent the next hour in the house crying his eyes out.”):

John said, ‘Well, I’m not doing it. I’m leaving. Bye.’ In the ensuing moments, he was giggling and saying how this felt really thrilling, like telling someone you’re going to divorce them and then laughing. At the time, obviously, that was wildly hurtful. Talk about a knockout blow. You’re lying on the canvas, and he’s giggling and telling you how good it feels to have just knocked you out.

— Paul McCartney, on “Get Back”. In The Lyrics (2021).

From Ringo’s perspective, the only other Beatle present, the meeting didn't seem to be particularly emotionally charged.

After the Plastic Ono Band’s debut in Toronto, we had a meeting in Savile Row where John finally brought it to its head. He said: ‘Well, that’s it, lads. Let’s end it.’ And we all said ‘yes’. And though I said ‘yes’ because it was ending (and you can’t keep it together anyway, if this is what the attitude is) I don’t know if I would have said, ‘End it.’ I probably would have lingered another couple of years.

But when we all met in the office, we knew it was good. It wasn’t sulky and we weren’t really fighting. It was like a thought came into the room, and everyone said what they said. John didn’t think we should leave, just that we should break it up. It was not: ‘I’m leaving, you’re leaving.’ It was: ‘Well, that’s it! I’ve had enough. I want to do this…’

If that had happened in 1965, or 1967 even, it would have been a mighty shock. Now it was just ‘let’s get the divorce over with’, really. And John was always the most forward when it came to nailing anything.

— Ringo Starr, in The Anthology.

John also recounts that moment in Lennon Remembers:

When I got back [from Toronto] there were a few meetings and Allen said, ‘Cool it,’ ’cause there was a lot to do [with The Beatles] business-wise, and it wouldn’t have been suitable at the time. Then we were discussing something in the office with Paul and Paul was saying to do something, and I kept saying, ‘No, no, no’ to everything he said. So it came to a point that I had to say something. So I said, ‘The group’s over, I’m leaving.’ Allen was there, and he was saying, ‘Don’t tell.’ He didn’t want me to tell Paul even. But I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t stop it, it came out. And Paul and Allen said they were glad that I wasn’t going to announce it, like I was going to make an event out of it. I don’t know whether Paul said, ‘Don’t tell anybody,’ but he was damn pleased that I wasn’t. He said, ‘Oh well, that means nothing really happened if you’re not going to say anything.’ So that’s what happened.

— John Lennon, interviewed by Jann Wenner for Rolling Stone (December 1970).

According to John Green (the Lennons’ tarot reader in the late 70′s), John gave us another perspective on this meeting almost a decade after:

The thing that held us together was that we could work together. You’d be surprised how much that matters. When things fell apart it was because I fell apart. I wasn’t willing to do the extras I always did, and I resented it when Paul tried or George tried. I’m not altogether sure why I felt that way. Tired I guess. [...] Then it seemed everybody was drifting off in different directions, and that seemed to make more sense than trying to go on. All that was needed was for someone to pronounce the patient dead, but none of us really wanted to do that. Then I decided that it was my job, unpleasant as it was. I talked to Paul about it and he asked me not to announce the breakup. Asked! Hell, he begged me! I was touched because I thought it was because he had the faith that somehow, somewhere, everything would work out and we’d do it all over again. Well, I was touched all right. Touched in the head. Paul went behind my back and made the announcement as part of a publicity campaign for a record. And for that, my dear Charles, I am never, no not ever, going to forgive him. It was like he took the Beatles away from me as part of a promotional trick.

— John Lennon, as recounted by John Green, in Dakota Days (1983).

This is a lot. But I first want to call attention again to the fact that John and Paul just lost Northern Songs — in the words of Peter Brown, their “child; creative flesh and blood” — and the following day John asks Paul for a divorce. 

As before, I don’t think these two events are unrelated or that John’s announcement was something dispassionate, “like a thought came into the room”. John couldn’t contain himself — despite Klein telling him to only say something after they’d gotten the rest of the Beatles to sign the new contract — he just “had blurt it out”. John seemed to be in a quasi-euphoric state, just from telling Paul he was leaving him. And if Green is to be believed, Paul’s reaction touched John and made him hopeful that since Paul cared that much about him leaving the Beatles — since Paul still had faith in them — that everything would work out in the end. 

And they keep dancing on this limbo for half a year: John buoyed by the fact that Paul still cared enough about their marriage that he begged John not to go through with a divorce, while Paul was mentally and emotionally trying to come to terms with said divorce.

But further explorations of that at another time. For now, I just wanted to gain a deeper perspective on those few weeks in September 1969. If anyone else has interesting insights of this time, feel free to share it!

#the beatles #John Lennon #paul mccartney #George Harrison #Ringo Starr #yoko ono #allen klein #Do we want to carry on the Beatles? I do #we really enjoyed performing #i was swallowing my pain #i was feeling insecure #Northern Songs #to John and Paul Northern Songs was like a child #i thought that you would realize that if i ran away from you that you would want me too but i got a big surprise #you only give me your funny paper #we were a family #it's like a marriage #i want a divorce #meta #my stuff

[kaihavoc]

Cloud 29

a/n: inspired by my new two favorite videos: this and this one

Lingering just outside the Chelsea locker room, I wait until I see the last person leave. Well, second to last. Christian passes me by with a toothy grin, telling me to “take good care” of my boyfriend tonight because he earned it. Laughing nervously, I just give him a polite wave, acting like he didn’t just give me that advice, and sneak inside the locker room. There’s only one person who hasn’t burst through the doors and come out to join the festivities. The superstar––the hero––of today’s match. Kai Havertz. 

I know Kai; he’s got to be swirling with composed excitement, taking his time to revel in this momentous occasion without the chaos of overexcited screams and cheers. I can just imagine his humble smile, those crinkles rippling across his cheeks, that endearing overbite he’s always been so insecure about. The mere thought of him puts a smile on my face. 

I only need to take a few steps when I see him. Considering he’s the only person left in the locker room, he wasn’t that hard to find. I pause in my tracks, absorbing the sight of him: sweaty, shirtless, head down with his back against the metal locker. I make no noise, but he must sense a presence because his head snaps up. Our eyes meet, and his face lights up as he bounds over to me, tackling me in a hug. He towers over me, but that doesn’t stop him from practically leaping into my arms. Yeah, as if I have the upper body strength to carry him. Sometimes I think he forgets I’m not as physically fit as his teammates.

I open my mouth, about to congratulate him, but the dullness in his blue eyes stops me. Something’s off. He’s happy to see me, that’s clear, but, otherwise, he’s not as ecstatic as I thought he would be. Why isn’t he? Not only did his team win the Champions League, but he scored the winning goal. His first goal of the Champions League, no less––he went out with a bang. He should be over the moon. 

“You look festive,” Kai comments, playfully tugging on one of my pigtails. I wanted to try something new, so I had tied my long hair into pigtails with two royal blue ribbons. Aside from that, I’m just in my typical outfit I wear whenever he plays a game: one of his old jerseys that he gave me when we first started dating and black leggings. I had considered spicing things up by painting Kai’s initials on my cheeks with blue face paint, but when I brought the idea up to him over dinner last week, he just said he knew a better method to brand me as his. I left it at that without inquiring further, even though I was curious by what, exactly, he had in mind. 

“You look… hot,” I gulp, my eyes traveling down his long, toned torso. No matter how many times I’ve seen him shirtless after a practice or a game, or in only a towel after a shower, I’ll never get tired of seeing him half-naked. Or fully naked, at that. 

“You look hot, too,” he murmurs into my hair, still embracing me tightly. “I just didn’t want to say that because I was trying to be gentlemanly.” Cupping my face with his large hands, he proceeds to kiss me, feverish and rough. He nips at my bottom lip and doesn’t even wait for me to open my mouth before invading it, battling my tongue with his. His ferocity gets my blood pumping and the pit of my stomach tingling, but it’s all wrong. I’m necessarily complaining, but this isn’t how he usually greets me. He typically welcomes me with a soft, delicate kiss before anything else. Is this because I haven’t congratulated him on his win yet? 

“I’m so proud of you, Kai. You and the guys really deserve this,” I say sincerely, but he pretends like he doesn’t hear me, going in for another attack on my mouth. To that, I shrink a little and he catches on, sighing as he takes a step back, his thick eyebrows furrowed together. I notice that the ribbons in my hair are loose, so I quickly readjust them as I try to read Kai’s expression. He still looks… dissatisfied. Maybe some ego boosting would do the trick? 

“Everyone’s raving about how you’re a tactical genius. How your skill and precision are unparalleled. How you’re on top and you haven’t even reached your peak yet,” I ramble, trying to recall every headline I’ve ever read in the news this past week. Oh, and also, you’ve got the cutest bum out of any football player in the history of football.  

“Not everyone,” he growls in a dark voice, messing up his curly brown locks by snatching them with his hand. His face twists with irritation. “Right after the game, a reporter came up to me and asked me if I thought I finally paid back my hefty price tag.” 

“And how did you respond?” I ask, curious. Usually he doesn’t get so riled up over post-game interviews, but perhaps his transfer fee is a touchy subject for him and he just never told me. In an attempt to calm him down a bit, I take his hand into mine and lead him to a section of the bench lined along the lockers. We sit so that we’re facing each other, and I weave my legs around his torso, nearly straddling him. But not quite.

“I think I said… ‘I don’t give a fuck of that. We just won the fucking Champions League’,” he says slowly, his nose scrunched up in concentration as he recalls his response.

I stifle a laugh. His cussing is not a regular occurrence, it’s not entirely uncommon either, but whenever he does curse, it catches me off guard. Maybe it has something to do with that pretty face of his, as if foul language shouldn’t be coming from it. “You’re right; you did just win the Champions League, so you shouldn’t be hard on yourself,” I say, lightly poking him in the bicep. He doesn’t seem to appreciate my stab at lighthearted reassurance, so I go for a different approach. Tough love. “Okay, fine. Chelsea may have paid a lot of money for you, but that’s because you’re worth it, Kai. You don’t have to prove your abilities to anyone––even though you already proved them tonight plus your whole career thus far. People are always going to have something negative to say, but you put in the work and it shows in every game. Don’t let anyone get to you, especially not a reporter; they’re just trying to get some dirt.” I’m not used to giving pep talks, so I’m not sure if I did it right.

I must’ve done something right because his frown is replaced with a slight smile. “Thank you, baby,” he says, pecking me on the cheek. One Kai’s best qualities is that not much gets to him; and if it does, it doesn’t take him long to get over it. Annoying interview question long forgotten, he traces patterns on my thigh and tells me, “The boys are going to a nightclub tonight to celebrate our win. Come with me.” To aid in his plea, he grabs both of my hands, squeezing them, his pale blue eyes gleaming with hope.

“A nightclub?” I repeat, making a sour face. “You know better than anyone that I don’t belong at a nightclub.” I want to suggest just a cozy night in, watching his favorite film of the Harry Potter series, Goblet of Fire, and cuddling, but I don’t want to take this celebratory night with his friends away from him.

“You belong with me, and it just so happens that tonight I’m being dragged to a nightclub,” he says. I don’t say anything, and his face falls, presumably because he recognizes his bid to get me to go is a lost cause.  

“You go,” I encourage, trying to sound upbeat as I pat his thigh. “Have your fun.”

“Really?” he asks. “Are you sure?” He gives me a dubious look, one eyebrow severely cocked. 

I squint at him quizzically. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He looks me dead in the eyes. “Babe. Let’s not forget what happened the last time I went out for drinks with the team for Timo’s birthday. I came back home with a ripped shirt because a bunch of girls pounced on us, and you wouldn’t talk to me for a whole week. You didn’t believe me.”

“That’s because it’s an unbelievable story,” I mumble.

“You accused me of hooking up with another girl,” he reminds me, his mesmerizing eyes narrowing at me, causing my cheeks to heat up and my skin to crawl with guilt. Now that he’s mentioned it, I do remember that incident. Vividly. It happened around the beginning of our relationship, when I still didn’t know how serious Kai was about me, about us. Regardless, I should’ve known that Kai would never be unfaithful to me. That’s simply not who he is. He has never once given me an inkling of a doubt of his loyalty. I blame my foolish allegation on my insecurity over our blossoming relationship, but I’m long past that… 

“You’re too friendly, Kai,” I sigh, ruffling his hair to make it seem more like a concern and less like an accusation. “It makes girls think they can have a chance with you.”

“Girls?” Kai scoffs, shaking his head in pure denial. How can someone so intelligent be such a dumb boy sometimes? “What girls? That happened one time, and it wasn’t only me who got jumped. The whole team did.” Like that makes the situation any better, Kai.

“I’m not dating the whole team! I’m dating you, and you’re only going to get bigger and I… I just want you all to myself,” I admit. My head falls, weighted by a vicious mix of embarrassment and shame. 

“Well, I know something that’s big that you can have all to yourself,” he says coyly, with a self-righteous smirk.

“I’m serious, Kai,” I say, frowning at him in return. “You’re young, talented, attractive. Girls are going to be lining up for you, and soon I’ll just be chopped liver.”

“Chopped liver?” he hoots, obviously unfamiliar with the expression. 

My frown deepens as I huff, “You’re going to forget all about me.”

“I think if anyone’s guilty of forgetting anything, it’s you. You’re already forgetting that I’m in love with you,” he coos, sliding closer to me, dusting my neck and collarbones with soft-lipped kisses.

“Get away from me. You’re all sweaty,” I complain––mostly so as to not give into his seduction techniques too easily––but it’s half-hearted.

“You’re about to be, too,” he growls, lifting me and dropping me on his lap. I can feel him harden underneath me, and I respond by rocking my body against his, inciting staggered, tense moans from the both of us at the same time. The sounds that come out of his mouth are music to my ears. With a hunger to hear more, I reach in between us, stroking his length through his thin shorts, loving how fully aroused he gets at my slight touch. His breathing quickens, but when I don’t hear anything from him, I look at him, witnessing his bottom lip in between his teeth, suppressing those sweet moans I so desperately want to hear him make. 

Suddenly, he’s tugging at my leggings; he’s so aggressive that I’m afraid he’s going to rip them. After he shimmies them off, I kick them to the side, and Kai’s eyes ravage the bottom half of my body. I’m thankful I had the good foresight to wear lace panties instead of my go-to granny panties, but at this point they’re drenched. They have been ever since I walked in and saw Kai; just one look at him does unspeakable things to me. His ability to reduce me to a mere puddle with just his eyes is unnerving. 

He removes my shirt and purses his lips when he sees that I’m not wearing a bra. My chest is ample-sized, but I can comfortably go without a bra––often doing just that––and it drives him mad. He says I shouldn’t go prancing around braless because I’ll be practically naked when ogling guys undress me with their eyes. I say that doesn’t make sense.

He yanks his shorts and boxers down in one swoop, and the heat between my legs intensifies. If his massive hands and long fingers were any indication of what he has to offer, the blanks fill themselves out––he’s glorious. I can’t help but gawk and admire him; Kai is perfect in every singular way. If I had no self-control, I’d lick every inch of his pale skin. I lower myself onto him and gasp with pleasure when just the tip enters me. Slowly, I bounce up and down on him, each time driving him deeper inside me until he fills me completely. My head rolls back as I continue the rhythmic movement, and I moan when he licks a stripe in the valley between my breasts. My fingers tangle themselves in his curly locks as he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking on it while tinkering with the other between his fingertips.

“Oh, Kai,” I whine, feeling the intolerable pressure building up in my stomach.

“That’s it, baby,” Kai purrs against my chest as I tighten around him. “Say my name. Just like that.”

“K-Kai––” I cry, quivering against his body; my vision is blurry and I’ve lost function in my legs. Kai’s taken over, his fingers digging into my hips, thrusting into me, hitting my most sensitive spot time after time. I’m on the verge of seeing stars when it all stops. Before my brain can process what’s happening, I’m balancing on all fours on the bench as Kai positions himself behind me, his erection rubbing against me. With one thrust, he buries himself inside me, reaching around to rub my clit in a slow circular motion. I was not prepared for that. The combination of sensations is enough to drive me over the edge, but what drives me even crazier is the heat as he presses his firm chest up against my back.

“Who do you belong to?” he demands in my ear, humming. I tune him out, focusing on getting my fix and nothing more. I can barely get his name out, what makes him think I can have a coherent conversation? “I don’t like being ignored,” he warns sharply.

My arms and legs are shaky, and the only thing keeping me from crumbling to the floor are his hands, holding me steady as he rolls his hips. “You,” I finally breathe.

“Dunno who that is,” he drawls, and I could swear he’s purposely applying more pressure to his accent just to mock me.

“You. Kai,” I hiss and close my eyes to try to block him out, but that only heightens my senses to everything he’s doing to me.

“Kai who? There are many Kais,” he says matter-of-factly. His fingers slow down around my sensitive area, and I’m afraid he’s going to withhold euphoria from me.

“Kai––fucking––Havertz,” I half moan, half gasp as his fingers pick up their pace and he slams into me, the final push that sends me soaring into bliss. I never cuss unless I have a really good reason for it and lashing my frustration out on the infuriating tease that is Kai Havertz is a good enough reason for me. However, he makes up for his devilish nature by understanding every nook and cranny of my body. On cloud nine, I ride out the high to the fullest extent before my body goes fully limp. I suck in a breath when he pulls out, only to feel the warm liquid on my back coming in spurts.

“Fuck,” he moans, and I just wish I could watch him as he comes undone. I think it’s hot when he releases his load on me––I like it best when he does it on my chest. So I can marvel at him with his sweat-matted hair, throbbing Adam’s apple, and fluttering eyelids. He wipes my back with his/my jersey and pulls me into his lap. 

“The way you moan my name, I’ll never be able to forget you,” he sighs, nibbling on my neck.

“How romantic,” I tease. But really, I’d be content calling out only his name for the rest of my life. Kai fucking Havertz.

“C’mon, baby, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, rising to his feet cheerfully. His fingers lace in mine as he starts for the shower stalls. My heart thumps wildly in my chest as my feet pad excitedly across the tile floor alongside him. Another great quality about Kai: his stamina is unmatched, on and off the football field.

*a/n: if you do by chance read this, I’d love to know what you think of it!

#kai havertz #kai havertz imagine #kai havertz one shot #kai havertz fanfic #football fanfiction #kai havertz fanfiction #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #chelsea fc #football fanfic #football blurb #Kai havertz smut #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #one shot #imagine #drabble

[books-and-catears]

Im actually unsure if ive sent a request already (if i did im sorry i have1 terrible memory T-T;;)

But if not would it be okay to request for an GN! MC who the brothers realize was a big idol back in the human world but they never said that to them? Like maybe they found through magazines or internet or smth?

Hope this is okay and have a good day!!

Awww honey don't apologize! Also thank you so much for the request! You have an amazing day too!

This is such a interesting and hilarious ask!This is going to be super fun to write hehehe :3

(Oh and just a general fact for anyone who comes across my blog I try to always make my MC gender neutral unless a specific gender is requested.)

Lucifer

Lucifer: For some reason there have been a lot of attempts to summon me from the human realm.

MC: Oh? That really works?

Lucifer: Well not always but we occasionally they get it right. But that's the not the issue here.

MC: Oh did they ask for something weird?

Lucifer: I got 22 summons. 18 of them had your name in their demands. And I checked their identities, they are not related to you, in any way. Mind explaining what's going on?

MC: *embarassed* I was slightly drunk on stage one day and might have told the people as a joke that if I ever went missing, they could try asking the devil for me.

Lucifer: Your people? Do you have cult up there?

MC: Well cult is a strong word. Fanbase is the more commonly used term...

Lucifer: How many people?

MC: Um...

Lucifer: How many more times will I be summoned MC?

MC: Um a few million times?

Lucifer: *exasperated dad noises*

Mammon

Mammon: MC what is net worth?

MC: Eh I'm not sure but maybe sum of assets or something

Mammon: YOU HAVE 20 MILLION WORTH OF ASSETS?

MC: Ah well I don't really accept it as mine cause there's a lot of people involved so I signed it over to my parents anyway.

Mammon: BUT HOW DO YOU HAVE THE ASSETS?

MC: 5 years worth of good record and merch sells are enough for it suppose?

Mammon: Records...MC you were a famous singer in the human world?!

MC: Ah well idol is what they called us. We had to dance a lot too.

Mammon: HOW COME NONE OF US KNEW THIS?! MC THIS IS HUGE WE CAN EVEN MARKET YOUR SKILLS HERE AND WE WILL BE RICH!

MC: *sigh*....this is why none of you knew.

Leviathan

Levi: MC can I tell you something strange?

MC: How strange are we talking?

Levi: Like when I saw you for the first time, you looked awfully familiar.

MC: Ah do I resemble some character you like?

Levi: An idol actually. There was this human world group that was a big hit for five years! But then they disbanded two years ago. You look like my favourite one. *Pointing to old poster*

MC: *looks at themself in ridiculous blue hair* Ahahhaa thanks Levi although I gotta admit that is my least favourite look.

Levi: You even have the same name as them it's almost uncanny- wait. Did you say 'MY least favourite look'?

MC: Guilty as charged....

Levi: YOU'RE ACTUALLY MC! THE MC! THE IDOL MC! *falls on the ground*

MC: Levi you okay?! Calm down it's-

Levi: MC IS IN MY ROOM!? MC IS SITTING NEXT TO ME?! MC IS LIVING IN THE SAME HOUSE AS ME!? MC GOES TO MY SCHOOL!? MC IS MY BEST FRIEND?!

MC: Yes Levi...Yes to all of them now calm down please! You're going to have heart attack!

Satan

Satan: MC come here for a minute would you?

MC: Yes, Satan?

Satan: So I tried to procure some human world magazines for Asmo and ended up going through them myself and *flips to a page and pointing towards an old picture of you* by any chance is this you?

MC: Haha didn't expect you to recognize me with that get up.

Satan: So when were you going to tell us you're about your fame in the human world?

MC: Does it even matter? It has been two years since I've last been on stage I'm sure people have forgotten now.

Satan: The recent article disagrees. *Reads from magazine* "MC hasn't been active in any of their social media accounts recently. While they did tend to go on long breaks of inactivity, this hiatus has been stretching for 5 months. They haven't even appeared in any of their fellow member's pictures either. An interview with one of the members said, 'They haven't even been answering texts nor calls. Their parents tell us they've gone away for a while but won't tell us where."

MC: Jesus I leave for six months and they make a whole mystery novel about me.

Satan: Well it's rather fun to keep the people on their toes. I can think of ways to fuel this fire.

MC: Satan no-

Asmodeus

Asmo: *comes running into your room* MC! How could you not tell me!?

MC: Eh? Tell you what?

Asmo: That you had a partner in the human world already?! And that you both are a FAMOUS POWER COUPLE!?

MC: Eh? Who said I was-

Asmo: Don't you lie to me! *holds up an edit playing on his phone* Look at these two people under the same umbrella! You're the one holding it aren't you!? Who are they MC? Do you love them more than me?!

MC: *sigh* No Asmo, they're just a friend who liked to screw with the paparazzi. And the paparazzi was over eager with us cause a lot of people loved shipping us.

Asmo: And why were you shipped with them?! I'm clearly a better match!

MC: *scratches head* Ah probably I used to pull too many pranks with them on stage and we were given a lot of duets and dances together.

Asmo: Stage? Duets? Dances? MC ...were you an IDOL?!

MC: ....yes?

Asmo: *squealing* WAIT TILL I MAKE YOU BECOME AN IDOL HERE TOO ALONG WITH ME SO PEOPLE WILL SHIP US INSTEAD!

Beelzebub

Beel: MC I heard from the others that you used to be a famous idol.

MC: Ah they told you too? Atleast your reaction is much calmer.

Beel: I heard famous people get lots of gifts from fans! Including snacks and candy!

MC: Haha we did. Only we weren't allowed to eat them.

Beel: ...but it's your gift. Of course you're allowed to eat them?!

MC: *sigh* Being in a idol group meant having to maintain your looks at all times. And weight was a big issue. I remember during tours we only had to live off apples, cucumbers and pea soup for a week.

Beel: That doesn't sound nice at all. *sad Beel noises* Here MC. *gives you half his sandwich* You can eat as much as you like here!

MC: Thank you so much, Beel.

Belphegor

Belphie: Did you get enough sleep being an idol and all? Beel told me you used to be one.

MC: Between late night practices and early morning workouts? I managed on three hours of sleep.

Belphie: That's less than half the ideal amount for humans.

MC: Ah well all of us needed to be perfect with the performance or we'd be screamed at or worse suspended.

Belphie: Performance for people who only need to see your face to start screaming. So much wasted energy. It's good that you left. Adoration from a bunch of strangers isn't worth losing sleep.

MC: I know right? It is nice to have a lot of people love you maybe but if I can't even be awake enough to appreciate them... what's the point?

Belphie: Come here. *wraps you up in his blanket* I help you catch up on the years of sleep you've missed.

MC; Thanks, Belphie.

#obey me headcannons #obey me Lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me beel #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me belphie #obey me fluff #obey me levi #obey me imagine #obey me game #obey me x mc #obey me mc is an idol #obey me idol mc #obey me gn! mc

[mcheang]

@pendoodlex Do an Adrien Salt where Lila lies about Chat Noir and Ladybug being in a relationship and Adrien confirms the lie.

It’s my love life!

It’s easy to lie about stuff people want to hear. Alya was greedy for any gossip about Ladybug and loved support for her theories on Ladybug.

Recently they debated on Ladybug’s true age. Was she an immortal with teenage hormones and atttiude? Or simply a teenager?

Now they were on to Ladybug’s love life.

Lila: Of course LadyNoir is a thing. Ladybug just denies it because she doesn’t want to give Hawkmoth any more reason to target Chat Noir, but it’s obvious how much they care for each other.

Alya: Yes! A witness to Ladynoir!

Marinette: a lying witness

Nathaniel frowned. “I don’t know, Lila…”

Before Lila could insist she was correct, Adrien actually jumped in. “It’s true. Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple. Sorry, Nathaniel, but she’s off the market.”

Marinette froze. Did Adrien just lie to Nathaniel about her love life? Just so no one would interfere with their beloved Ladynoir fandom?

WTH???

Overwhelmed by her hurt and rage, Marinette actually grabbed Adrien’s hand and dragged him out of the classroom, her face burning red.

Some assumed she was trying out another one of her confession schemes. Lila thought Marinette was going to tell Adrien she was a liar (eh, he already knew.)

In a far off corner, Marinette was whisper-yelling at Adrien. “What are you thinking? It’s one thing to ignore Lila’s lies, it’s another to endorse them! LadyNoir is not real!”

Thinking that Marinette still had a crush on Chat Noir, Adrien winced and rubbed his head. “I’m sorry, Marinette. But it’s true. Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple.”

“No, they are not! Where’s your proof?“ She demanded.

Adrien thought quickly. “I saw them kissing on a rooftop last week.”

Marinette raised a brow. “Are you sure you weren’t just dreaming?” Her voice was heavy with skepticism.

Adrien: Positive.

Marinette: Well, I’m not sorry to say that you’re wrong. Ladybug and Chat Noir are not a couple.

Adrien: and how are you so sure? Just because you have a crush on Chat-

Marinette: Because Ladybug visited me after my dad was akumatized!

Adrien:…what?

Marinette took a deep breath. She hated lying but she also couldn’t stand lies about her.

“Ladybug consoled me after Chat rejected me. She reminded me about the other great boys in my life and ones I have yet to meet. And I asked her why she wouldn’t date Chat. Do you know what she told me?”

Adrien was quiet.

“She said she was in love with a boy from her own civilian life, not Chat Noir. To be honest, he’s not even her type.”

Adrien perked up. “Ladybug has a type?”

Marinette: Obviously. From what I hear, she’s more into the sensitive soul kind of guy.

Adrien: Chat is sensitive!

Marinette just stared at her crush in disbelief. “Um, yeah, no. The dude sulks whenever he gets rejected and has no idea what no means. For crying out loud, he gave me a pink rose before dumping me, and that was after he ate the treats my dad baked for him.”

Adrien: For someone with a crush on the hero, you sure sound bitter.

Marinette exhaled again, calming herself. “I’m not bitter. I’ve moved on, truly. Enough to see what Ladybug meant when she said I’ll move on soon enough. I’m over Chat.“

Adrien raise his brows.

Marinette continued, “I’ve been able to analyse his actions without the hero-crush filters. Be honest, Adrien, how would you feel at having to constantly reject the same person over and over again? Wouldn’t you be annoyed by their repeated flirtations?”

Adrien shrugged. “I reject fans all the time. Well, not exactly. I just ignore their love letters.“

Marinette shook her head. “That doesn’t count. You don’t know those people. Let’s say Chloe was going to confess her love to you every day. And you have to reject her every day. When you reject her, she raises a fuss and causes an akuma. How would you feel about your childhood friend?”

Adrien grimaced. “That would suck. I would avoid Chloe just to avoid her confessions.”

Marinette raised her hand, like there you go. Point proven.

Adrien wasn’t done. “But,” he insisted stubbornly, “it’s different for LadyNoir. They’re partners. Yin and Yang. A superhero duo. Who else is she going to end up with if not her partner? These kinds of pairings always win in the end.”

Marinette: that’s just sad. You’re comparing Ladybug’s love life to fiction. Life isn’t a fairy tale, Adrien. you don’t decide who Ladybug ends up with, and it’s not right for you to lie about her either.

Adrien: LadyNoir will happen. I’m sure of it.

Marinette: You’re not even going to take back that lie, are you?

Adrien: Why would I? It’s going to be fact.

Marinette said sadly, “Goodbye, Adrien.”

After school, Marinette tore down her posters of Adrien. Filters removed, indeed.

Tikki: Don’t worry, Marinette. I’m sure things will come right in the end.

Marinette: that doesn’t mean I can’t help set things back in order. Tikki, spots on!

Alya turned around at a tapping on her window.

Alya: Ladybug!

Ladybug: Hey, Alya. Listen, I’ve been reading your blog, and I need to set some facts straight.

Alya: Is this about revealing your love life? Because honestly, it would be better to be honest about your love life than to let others hope they have a shot with you. Remember Copycat?

Ladybug: That’s my point. I’m not dating Chat Noir. I don’t even like him that way. Lila has been lying to you, Alya.

Alya: Um, she’s your Best Friend…

Ladybug: When did I ever say that?

Alya:…….. ……….Why didn’t you correct me before today, then?

Ladybug sighed. “Because i had called her out in front of Adrien, and she got akumatized. And when she disappeared for a while, I figured there was no need to bring her up.“

Alya: Hold on. Adrien knew Lila was lying?

Ladybug: Yes. Though I’m sure he must have his own reasons for protecting Lila. But back to my point. I am not dating Chat Noir, and I am not interested in him like that. My love life is mine to decide, not for others to insist on just because they prefer me with Chat. How would you like it if Parisians started pairing you with Pegasus or Monkey King instead of Carapace? With them insisting you break up with Nino just to be with someone they chose for you?”

“That would be annoying,“ admitted Alya. “And invasive.”

Ladybug: I want to do a live interview, to clear the matter up once and for all.

In this interview, Ladybug was professional and succinct as she stated she doesn’t know Lila Rossi and she is not in a relationship with Chat. She doesn’t want to hurt her fans, but her love life is for her to handle.

Unable to help herself, Alya asked, “If you don’t like Chat, who do you like? You don’t have to give any names, but just one little tidbit, please?”

Eh, why not?

Ladybug leaned back on her hands and smiled, her eyes going faraway and dreamy. “Mature. That’s all I’ll say.”

After all, Luka had always supported her crush on Adrien. He never pushed her, but was always there for her. Why didn’t she how good he was? Oh right, Adrien filters.

Lila was fuming. How could she show her face again? Where was an akuma when you wanted one?

The akuma was drawn to a LadyNoir fanatic.

Fight fight fight. Chat was noticeably sulky at having been rejected on air.

When Alya came over to interview, he insisted he would not give up on Ladybug. Alya raised her brows, “Yeah that’s fine. But just don’t be pushy about it. And from your attitude earlier during the battle, I don’t think you fit Ladybug’s ideal criteria.”

Chat flushed and turned away, using his baton to propel himself home.

At school, Lila was playing truant, and Alya was grilling Adrien for keeping quiet.

Adrien: her lies weren’t hurting anyone!

Alya: I’m taking into account your isolated childhood, so let me just say, lies are hurtful. And it’s not right to encourage and spread her lies either.

Adrien: LadyNoir has to happen!

Nino shook his head in disgust. “You sound like that akuma last night. Ladybug has the right to decide who she wants to be with. If you ship LadyNoir, that’s fine. But you shouldn’t let it get this far to decide for Ladybug who she ends up with.”

Alya sighed, “Let’s blame Gabriel for this and hope Adrien can still be saved.”

Alya also understood when Marinette gave up on Adrien after seeing his behavior. She was interested in Luka but decided to wait because she didn’t want him to be a rebound guy.

Anyway, Adrien learned to keep his opinions to himself when all they got him was disapproval.

Ladybug’s interview caused the Parisians to question if the Italian diplomat should even still be in Paris if her daughter likes to spout lies about their heroine. How could she let her own daughter lie about stuff like that? It was enough that Mrs Rossi was questioned at work and her ignorance unveiled.

Yeah, Mrs Rossi would be lucky to keep her job after this but it was suggested Lila be sent outside Paris since she would certainly be unhappy with her new pariah status. Lila was sent to a correctional facility where no one was charmed by her falsehoods. Hell, she couldn’t even contact her mother because she was even busier trying to make amends.

When Ladybug finally told Chat she was happily in a relationship with her new boyfriend, he was sulky. Oh sure, he continued to fight alongside Ladybug but he was hopeful that she would break up with her boyfriend.

Plagg: that’s a horrible reaction. Can’t you just be happy for Ladybug?

Adrien: love is irrational and can’t be reasoned with, Plagg.

Plagg: then can you at least be polite and respectful to Ladybug’s wishes that you stop flirting with her?

Adrien: fine. Being Chat Noir was a chance to finally express myself, though.

Plagg: there’s a difference between freedom of expression and being rude/disrespectful/obnoxious

Adrien tried to date Kagami, but she broke up with him. There was no point in continuing the relationship when Adrien was so fixed on Ladybug.

I’m gonna leave this open ended. Any ideas how you would end this story?

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml salt fic #Adrien salt #Lila is exposed #Lila gets exposed #post-Chameleon #Marinette x Luka

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!

Storm Before The Calm

Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley

Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.

"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.

Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”

His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.

“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”

Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.

Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.

But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.

Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.

Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.

Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.

Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.

When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.

As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.

You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.

The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.

But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.

You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.

Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.

Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.

Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.

So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.

Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!

"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.

"What for?"

You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.

Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."

You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"

"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."

You scoffed, "What career?"

Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"

"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.

"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"

"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?

"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.

"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"

"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"

"That is so NOT what this is about!"

"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"

Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?

Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.

You needed something to hit.

***

Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.

Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.

"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.

"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.

"Where's the cavalry?"

"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.

"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.

Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.

Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.

Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.

You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.

"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.

"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."

Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.

It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.

He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.

Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.

"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"

"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.

Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.

"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.

You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."

His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.

Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.

When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.

Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.

"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.

"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.

"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.

"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.

"Too bad you don't really have a choice."

You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.

White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.

Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.

"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."

***

When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.

You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.

This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.

You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.

"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.

"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.

A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?

Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.

You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.

On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.

Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.

She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.

You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.

"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."

Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.

Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.

It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.

You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.

"I always keep my promises, Captain."

Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.

Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.

He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."

You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."

"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.

"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.

"I love you."

You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."

You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.

You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.

Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"

She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.

"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.

Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.

But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.

You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.

"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.

He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.

Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.

He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.

And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.

#ben ten omniverse #ben tennyson #ben ten alien force #ben ten ultimate alien #ben 10 #ben 10 uaf #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 original series #ben 10 fanfiction #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 x reader #ben tennyson x reader #ben tennyson imagines #ben 10 alien force #ben ten #ben tennyson imagine

[band--psycho]

Jax Teller x Reader-I’m The Baby Whisperer

Requested by the lovely @rebelwrites​​​, I hope you all enjoy this! 💜

Prompt List Requests / 1.3k Writing Celebration Masterlist / Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist 

I sighed in frustration, throwing my phone on the couch before collapsing into it myself. As soon as I felt like I was taking a step forward, I seemed to get knocked back again. I was meant to be going for an interview today and up until a few minutes ago everything was going just like I’d hoped, my son was s/n was still peacefully sleeping in his crib, allowing me to try on at least five different outfits for the interview before settling on a white blouse, a navy blue blazer with matching trousers and a pair of white block heels shoes to match my top, as well as a light covering of makeup. I felt more confident than I had done in years and I was so determined to ace this interview right up until my sister rang me saying that she wouldn’t be able to come over and look after S/n. It wasn’t her fault and I knew that, but I had no back up plan and I didn’t have the money to pay a babysitter. I felt everything I had hoped for just begin to slowly fall apart in front of me and I had no idea what to do.

I was dragged away from my thoughts when I heard a repetitive knocking at my door and couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread and annoyance wash over me as I bolted towards the door. It wasn’t because I was scared who was on the other side of the door but because I didn’t want anything to disturb S/n nor did I want anyone to see the state I was currently in. However, all of that seemed to fade when I opened the door to see the one and only Jax Teller standing outside with a bag of groceries in his hand, his charming smile painted on his face. 

“Why’re you so dressed up at this hour?” He asked, with a small chuckle in his voice as his eyes scanned down my body. Normally whenever he came round I was dressed in what I like to call my lazy day wear, which mainly consisted of baggy jeans, a crop top and a cardigan, so I could imagine seeing me like this would be a shock. But as he said those words I felt my heart drop as I remembered the interview...

“Woah, what’s wrong, darlin’?” He asked, his smile faltering slightly when his eyes locked with mine, without any hesitation he pulled me into a hug that  I gladly reciprocated. There was always something about Jax that calmed me, no matter how stressed I was. 

“I was meant to have an interview today,” I muttered into his chest, trying not to burst into tears as all of the stress built up in my body. 

He pulled from the hug slightly with a raised eyebrow before asking “An interview?” 

“Y’know like a job interview,” I sassed back with, a small smile creeping upon my face as a small chuckle slipped past his perfect lips.

“I’m well aware what an interview is, darlin’, where?” 

“This new firm in town,” I answered, sighing in defeat once again, pulling away from the hug completely as I tried to keep myself together. The last thing I wanted to do was breakdown on Jax-he’d seen enough of my breakdowns recently. I didn’t want to put him through another one. 

“Okay,” He began, in a low voice, walking towards me, rubbing soothing circles onto my arms “I'm struggling to see what’s bad about this, shouldn’t you be happy to have an interview?” 

“I would be but my sister just called me saying that she’s ill so can’t look after S/n and my mum isn’t picking up her phone and I can’t just take him into the interview and even if I could I’ve only just got him off to sleep and-”

“Darlin’, breathe,” Jax interjected, moving his hands from my arm to my face, caressing my cheeks as he lightly lifted my face up, forcing my eyes to look into his gorgeous blue ones; getting lost in them like I always used to. Even his eyes could calm me down...it was bizarre, but right now it’s what I needed. 

I tried so hard to stop the tears that forming in my eyes from falling because I didn’t want to breakdown nor did I want to ruin my makeup “Sorry, I just...I just don’t know what to do,” I muttered, feeling myself lean in more to his touch, like it was the only thing keeping me together. Which to be honest at this very moment wasn’t that far from the truth. 

“I’ll look after him,” Jax stated, his hands tracing small circles on to my cheeks. Those very words were enough to make my heart both melt and to strike fear into me. I trusted Jax more than anyone in this world and I knew he would never hurt S/n but since I’d left Will, my abusive ex boyfriend I never felt comfortable leaving S/n alone with anyone else besides my sister and my mum because I trusted them and I knew that they would never hurt S/n. But it was Jax. He wasn’t some random stranger, he was one of my closest friends. He was the friend who practically saved me from that toxic relationship....

“He’s safe with me,” Jax whispered soothingly, his hands still caressing my face, holding me close. I nodded slowly knowing that I could trust him with S/n.

A small smile came on his face at my answer, before he connected his lips lightly to my forehead,“Knock ‘em dead, darlin’,” he whispered before handing me the keys to my car, that charming smile coming on his face again, making my heart race and my cheeks redden, luckily I turned around and quickly left the house before he could notice. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The interview went amazingly well, I don’t think I’d ever had an interview go that well in any of my previous jobs, so to say that I was confident in getting a job was an understatement. As I pulled up outside the house, I fully expected to hear S/n crying echoing outside the house as I walked towards it, but I didn’t. In fact I heard nothing but silence. Pure silence, normally people would enjoy the silence but all I could feel was worry. Worry that Will had found out where we were...that he’d hurt Jax and taken S/n, quickly I opened the door and shouted out “Jax”, at first he didn’t appear only making the anxiety I was feeling to grow but when I shouted his name for the second time and he appeared carrying S/n in his arms, with a pleased grin on his face.Relief washed over me as I saw  both of them and I felt my heart swell in my chest as the scene before me. I’d never seen S/n so calm around anyone else other than me, not even my sister or mum, even with them he cried a lot. 

“Hey, darlin’, how’d the interview go,” he asked, moving closer towards me, giving me a kiss on the forehead before passing S/n over to me. God I could get used to this, something about coming home to Jax and S/n just made my heart feel whole. 

“It went amazingly well, actually, I’m feeling really confident about it,” I answered with a smile on my face, as I gave S/n his favourite toy, causing him to giggle in joy. 

“I’m glad, you deserve a win darlin’,” his voice was soft and there was a look in his eye that made the butterflies in my stomach flutter.

“How was he?” I asked, with a slight chuckle in my voice as S/n dropped the toy and started playing with my hair instead. 

“He was as good as gold, barely cried at all,” I knew a confused look must’ve come over my face by the way he chuckled, leaning in closer to me and whispered “No need to look so shocked, darlin’, I’m the baby whisperer,after all.” And with that he grabbed his hoodie which was draped over my chair. I didn’t want him to leave; it was nice having him here. He made me feel safe and loved...just like he used to before I left. 

“Do you wanna stay the night?” it took me a second to realise what I’d just asked, making my heart beat faster in my chest more than I ever thought possible. God, no. This was not what I wanted to do. Well I did. I wanted him to stay. But now I’ve probably just scared him off-of course he doesn’t want to stay...why would he...he-was kissing me-wait-what. I opened my eyes briefly in shock, and he was. Jax Teller was kissing me...and within a few seconds without even really thinking about it, I was kissing him back; it was like we were in our own little bubble. The only thing that brought us back to the real world was the sound of S/n giggling away.

“I’d love to stay the night, darlin’,” he whispered against my lips, causing that familiar blush to appear on my cheeks, as he pulled me and S/n into his embrace. This was a new chapter in my life and no matter what had happened before in the past, I was excited to see how my life with Jax would look like. It was the new start I’d desperately craved for so long...and now I had it. 

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[jhoudiey]

Part 1

Yoru: Do I really have to do another one of these?

Crowley: I made the jacket special for you! I Thought you’d want to have a normal birthday like everyone else!

Yoru: You’re not going to publish this one in the paper are you?

Crowley: Well, I had planne-

Yoru: Oh. Then I’m going home. I got enough grief about last year’s and I don’t want to deal with that again.

Crowley: Nugget! You can’t leave! I think I see that your interviewer has arrived!

Yoru: I thought I was supposed to roll some dice or something to choose-

Crowley: Well… normally that is the case but… hmmm…

Floyd: but everyone was too scared to throw a pie at you so I volunteered!

Crowley: Yes! Exactly! Mr Floyd Leech-kun has come to help us in a pinch!

Yoru: We could just skip this whole thing all together

Floyd: Noooooooope~ I wanna hit you with a pie so we gotta do it.

Yoru: Fine whatever, lets get it over with. Whats the first question?

Crowley: Not so fast, Nugget! Floyd Leech-kun must first give you his present!

Yoru: Oh no…

Floyd: Ehhh? What’s that for? Here, Kani-chan gave me something good to give you!

Yoru: You didn’t even wrap it.

Floyd: Well why would I? It’s just a coupon, now we can go to that fancy dessert place you wanted to try.

Crowley: Oohh! Is that for Un Diaman-

Yoru: Wait, if this is my gift I get to choose who to take.

Floyd: well yea, but I know you’ll take me so why even pretend

Yoru: I could always invite Idia. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.

Crowley: You could bring me!

Floyd: Heeeeehhh?? HotaruIka senpai won’t come back just for desserts

Yoru: I could invite Ortho instead

Crowley: Or me!

Floyd: Clione-chan doesn’t even eat

Crowley: I do!

Yoru: Maybe I’ll invite Azul or Jade instead

Floyd: You won’t though, so we should go tomorrow

Yoru: Over lunch?

Floyd: Sure I’ll come get you

Crowley: What about me?

Yoru and Floyd: huh?

Crowley: I want to… *ahem* I must insist you stay on track for the interview!

Floyd: Oh, right.

PART 2

Floyd: Okay! Here we gooo~ “If you could pick any student from Night Raven College to be your sibling, who would you choose?”

Yoru: I’d probably pick-

Floyd: me right?*

Yoru: not a chance. Ortho for sure.

Floyd: hey! He’s not even really a student, you gotta pick someone better

Yoru: I’m not a student here either so I don’t know why it matters

Floyd: Eugh, whatever. “If you were stuck on a deserted island who would you bring?”

Yoru: Diana

Floyd: you answered way too fast.

Yoru: It makes the most sense

Floyd: Why not me?

Yoru: She can talk to the animals I can’t and when we want to leave she’d be easier to carry.

Floyd: Huh? I’m not even that heavy.

Yoru: heavier than her.

Floyd: well I could catch fish for us!

Yoru: I don’t need help catching fish. Plus if it’s a long way til land I wouldn’t want to get tired while flying and carrying you.

Floyd: I can swim as fast as you can fly, you wouldn’t have to carry me at all.

Yoru: Oh… I hadn’t considered that.

Floyd: See, I’d be better to bring.

Yoru: Okay, I'll change my answer. I’d bring you.

Floyd: Yaaaay~

Yoru: Even though we wouldn’t get stranded in the first place.

Floyd: Aha nooooope~

PART 3

Floyd: Okay, last question “If you were to join any dorm, which dorm would you choose?”

Yoru: Dorm at my school or here? Galdtrea or Monarchia wouldn’t be bad…

Crowley: NRC dorms, Nugget! This is an NRC birthday interview!

Yoru: Oh. Uhhh

Floyd: You’d choose Octavinelle to be with me right?

Yoru: ahahahhahahahahahaha never in a million years. I think I’d chooooose…. Savanaclaw.

Floyd: Ehe~ that’s where I chose too if I had to change.

Yoru: Yea, since I’m no good at magic, if I had any problems I could just beat the shit out of people to settle things. That would be nice.

Crowley: Nugget!

Yoru: What? Wouldn’t you dry up though cause it’s so hot?

Floyd: Hmmmm nah~ not unless I was in my eel form. Would you be like the Monarchia girls and walk around naked all the time?

Yoru: Hmmm maybe if it’s really hot out. I could do whatever I wanted if I were the dorm leader.

Floyd: But you have to be the strongest for that

Yoru: I’m still not seeing the problem here.

Floyd: Well what if I’m the dorm leader?

Yoru: Then I’ll beat the shit out of you and take the title?

Floyd: Like you could

Yoru: You’ve never even see me fight seriously-

Floyd: Don’t need to cause I know you’re suuuuuuuuper~ weak

Crowley: Errr Floyd Leech-kun that’s not a good idea…

Yoru: Hmmm? Forget where we are, Floyd? We’re not in the sea you don’t stand a chance against me up here

Floyd: Ahahaha~ So lets fight then!

Yoru: Don’t complain when you lose!

Floyd: Come on Yoru! Take me down, if you can!

Crowley: Wait! this is supposed to be a friendly… sigh. Nevermind.

*Floyds answer to the sibling question isn't a weird incest thing, it's a "he wants to be Yoru's first choice no matter what" thing.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #yoru crowley #floyd leech #dire crowley #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisute oc #dumb and dumber #disney #twst birthday #made a transparent of the birthday background if anyone wants it #then you can have whatever colour you want #twst birthday interview #oc x canon #canon x oc

[tom-holland-parker]

No Body No Crime

Summary: Tom knows you had something to do with the victims disappearance and its driving his crazy that you don’t crack easily

Pairing: Detective!Tom x reader

Warning: Murder?? Sexual innuendos, Cops

Word Count: 1412

Note: Based off the song no body no crime by Taylor Swift. This idea came to me in the shower and like I do with all my writings I wrote this when I was half asleep. Anyway ACAB

Masterlist

////

You sat in the dark room. The only light coming from the small window to your left. They had you seated facing the mirror, but you knew they were watching from the other side. Just waiting for you to crack. One small slip up and this case would be solved.

Thankfully you were smart. You kept your composure as you waited for the two detectives to come in. It wasn't long till their return. Talking amongst themselves as you sipped your water.

Soon they turned to you getting ready to start the interview. "Ma'am my name's Tom and this is my partner Harrison" he was eager to start the questioning you could tell by his rushed introduction. "Let's just get to the point I know you had something to do with it" He spoke. His British accent was exceptionally rare for the small southern town you lived in.

Your eyes shifted to the man beside him who was hesitant compared to his partner. You could tell he didn't entirely agree with Tom. "Im sorry detective but you call me up here at 9 in the morning and tell me I have something to do with a crime that I'm completely unaware of" you faked your voice trying your best to sound completely oblivious to what was happening.

He scoffed looking as his partner before looking back at you. "Oh please. You're telling me you have no idea about Gus Armstrong's disappearance"

"Oh that" you sighed, "well then you're wrong because I had nothing to do with it". You wanted to smirk but kept a straight face.

"Mr. Armstrong's wife went missing a couple months back" his partner finally spoke. His British accent matching his friends, "I understand Tom here questioned you about that case as well"

You watched as he opened the small folder in front of him. His eyes scanned through the interview manuscripts. You nodded your head as he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Tom.

"Yes Este was my closest friend I miss her dearly" They stared at you trying to determine if you were faking it. It was sincere. She was your closest friend, it nearly killed you when she went missing.

"You said that you fully believed it was her husband that was the cause of her disappearance" Harrison stated as he leaned closer trying to understand everything. You nodded your head, "yes I did and I still do. I know he had something to do with it"

Tom chuckled, "what makes you think that?"

You perked up at his sudden interest. He didn't seem to care when you sat in this same set a few weeks ago. "Este knew her husband had been cheating. The constant late nights. The new jewelry purchases. There was no question about it"

You took another sip of your water, "she was a strong woman and so she confronted him. I waited for her 2 hours at the restaurant for our usual Tuesday night dinner and wine. But when she didn't show up I knew something was wrong. When she was reported missing the next day I knew he did it. Gus always had problems with his anger. But no one believed me. No one else seemed to notice the new tires on his truck or even how his mistress moved in so quickly after the case had be closed"

You could still hear the words Tom had said to you the day the case was deemed unsolved.

“So you’re just gonna let him go” You stared at him anger filling all your senses. He sipped his coffee not having the nerve to look at you. 

“Sorry Ma’am, No body No crime” 

"And that's when you took matters into your own hand" Tom finally spoke. You chuckled in amusement. He truly believed he had you.

"I'm sorry but as far as I'm concerned I'm not even a real suspect. I heard most people believe it was his mistress" They both leaned back in their seats slightly disappointed that you didn't crack.

You played with the chipped polish on your nails. "Yes it really doesn't look good for her. Taking out such a large life insurance policy just days before your new husband disappears"

Harrison rolled his eyes completely irritated that he had even entertained the thought of you being the suspect. "I need some air" he rose from the table and left the room leaving just you and Tom who didn't seem to give up as easily.

"You're good" he leaned in closer to you catching eye contact. "Too good"

You smirked as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. You loved to see a strong man get frustrated. "Tell me Holland" you got up from your seat leaning in closer as your fingers gently drawing mindless shapes over the skin on his arm. "What do you think when you see me"

He took a deep breath shifting around in his seat, "I see a woman who thinks she's in control" he grabbed your wrist pulling you even closer. Your faces are only inches away from each other as he whispered in your ear. His grip on your wrist was firm but not tight enough to hurt you. "I'm the one in charge here now sit your pretty ass down and confess"

You smiled taking your time as you sat down in your chair again. "I'm usually on my knees when I do a confession" you teased loving the fact that you can work him up with just your words.

He took another deep breath wanting nothing more than to see you on your knees. "Where were you two nights ago?" he asked hoping that staying on subject would stop his filthy imagination.

You sighed crossing your arms as you leaned back in your seat. "Like I said before I was with Este's sister"

It wasn't a complete lie. You had been with her that night just not the whole time. "Yeah well im having some officers go confirm that for me" he spoke as he looked through the file once more. You couldn't help but stare at the long bruised covered fingers that tapped mindlessly on the table. Your head fills with lust filled thoughts as you try to regain your composure. Only moving your eyes once he looked at you

The room remained silent as you both stared at each other. You enjoyed watching Tom try and keep his cool. He enjoyed watching how effortlessly you were able to trick everyone. He found it sexy.

Harrison returned shaking his head. "Well her alibi checks out" he turned to you. "I'm sorry for any problem we've caused"

You stood up slowly, your eyes still attached to Tom. "Well officer I'm afraid you've got a mistress to arrest" Tom didn't want to watch you exit, leaving him alone with his filthy thoughts

                                                         ///

You waited until the case was closed to show your face around Tom again. It was at the town's yearly festival. He sat on the bench sipping his tea watching the floats drive down Main St.

You sat down next to him not saying anything just enjoying the silence. He spoke first, "Case went unsolved"

His voice was blunt yet quiet as if he only wanted you to hear. You took a sip of your own coffee enjoying the breeze. You knew it drove him crazy. You hadn't intended to do it but you did enjoy the way he was so frustrated by the case.

Minutes of silence went by before you decided to end his torture. The case was closed after all. You sighed, "my daddy made me get a boating license when I was 15"

His head shot towards you but he stood silent wanting to hear more, "I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene"

It was sort of comical how the rest of the world seemed to be happy outside of the small bubble you both created on that bench. "Good thing Este's sister swore she was with me"

You took a sip of your coffee watching as his mouth fell open slightly. You both sat quiet as you gave him time to process. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked. If you hadn't been so close to him you wouldn't have heard him speak.

You chuckled finishing up the last of your coffee before getting up. Turning to him slowly, "No body No crime"

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfeild imagine #tom holland x y/n #peter parker #peter parker x reader #imagine #tom blurbs #detective!tom

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

too soon to tell, chapter t w o

You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.

You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.

“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.

“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.

“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”

You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.

“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.

“Apparently not.”

She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”

“What is?”

“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”

She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.

Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.

“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”

“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”

“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.

“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”

“But you want to move in with him.”

“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”

Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”

“Shut up! Are you serious?!”

“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”

She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”

“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”

“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”

“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He’s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you love him,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.

“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”

She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.

“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”

You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.

“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”

“And?”

“Was it weird?”

“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?

People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.

Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?

Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?

“When will you hear back about the job?”

“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”

You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.

“Do you want it?”

You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.

“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”

Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”

You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.

But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?

Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?

She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.

“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”

She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.

Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.

She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.

It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.

You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.

“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.

“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”

“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”

Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.

“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”

You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.

You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.

“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.

“You seem--off.”

You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…

Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.

He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.

“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”

He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You don’t know?” He pressed.

You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”

He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.

You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.

But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.

He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”

It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.

His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.

Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?

He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”

You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.

You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s that?”

Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.

You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.

“What’s happening, are you okay?”

“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.

“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”

“It’s in Los Angeles.”

His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.

He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.

Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”

“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”

“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.

“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”

“Probably for a good reason--”

“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”

“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. “I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“What’s the eye roll for?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”

“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.

The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.

It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.

When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.

“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.

“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.

“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.

“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.

Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.

“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.

“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”

He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”

Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.

“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”

Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”

“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”

“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”

“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.

“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.

“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.

The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”

He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.

You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”

“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.

“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”

Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.

“What’s going on with him?”

You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”

“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.

“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”

“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.

“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.

Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”

“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”

“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”

With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.

Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”

“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”

“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.

Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.

“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.

“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”

Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”

“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.

Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”

Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.

“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.

Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.

Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.

“I’ll just drop you at yours?”

“Oh--yeah, sure.”

“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.

You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”

“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.

Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”

“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”

“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”

“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”

You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.

“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”

He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”

You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.

Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?

You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.

**

A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.

You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.

A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.

Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!

You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.

He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.

So far, his list was as follows:

Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)

Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview

Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.

It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.

Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.

You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.

“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”

She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.

They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.

“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”

You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.

You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.

She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”

You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”

She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”

“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”

“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”

“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”

“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”

She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.

“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”

You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”

She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”

“Is there somewhere you want to start?”

She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”

“To what?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”

“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.

“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”

She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

“How would you want to see it change for the better?”

“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.

“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.

“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”

She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”

You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.

“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”

She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”

“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.

“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”

“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”

“Everyone started to care more about you?”

“Exactly.”

You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.

She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”

The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.

You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.

You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”

“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”

“Did you talk about that?”

“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”

Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.

“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.

**

You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.

He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.

You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.

“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”

He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."

You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"

You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”

“Do you mean with my album?”

“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”

“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.

Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.

“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”

“S’not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.

“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.

“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.

“What?”

“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”

“And what about us?”

“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”

You sighed, unsure what to say.

"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."

You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.

Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?

But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.

A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.

But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.

You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?

Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.

You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.

And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.

They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.

You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.

“I can’t take it,” you said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”

“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”

“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.

You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.

“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”

You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.

Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.

Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.

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