A Made Match [Tsukiyama X Reader]

In Which No One Can Seem to Stick to the Script

Glancing at the man seated elegantly across from you- looking sleek, suave and far too put together for the average panty sniffer- you have to wonder why you were written to not question his single status before agreeing to meet up with him.

[Though personally, you blame teenage hormones and the quasi-sexual frustrations of a writer with far too much time on thier hands.]

You also feel the need to hide your napkins from him, because you don't think you'd sleep that night if he pulled a bathroom scene just a few thin walls away. It has little to do with Tsukiyama's creeper status either, but rather the buggy-eyed cray, cray moments that tend to nip at the heels of it. Though it is pretty discerning to imagine such an elegant man vocally jizzing himself in a public space.

[Which, admittably, is probably what your live action self and borderline sadistic creator want. But, you know, technicalities.]

"Are you feeling quite alright? You've been so quiet, ma chérie." Tsukiyama asks, face set into an expression of concern. The graceful arc of his wrists and mouth more enticing than they have any right to be.

You're almost tempted to feed him a cliché line about breaking up with your boyfriend, but then rationality kicks in and you remember this guy tends to become a shameless, overzealous stalker in reader-insert fanfiction. And that feeding that particular beast would only result in three lines of smut and then your untimely demise during an angst-riddled midnight snack.

[Because you're sure all the inner vore kinkets watching the show simultaneously fangasmed the moment Tsukiyama Shuu pranced his fine ass onto the scene.]

"I'm fine. Just thinking that it's a shame this isn't the manga. The character development for it was very promising."

Shuu casts you a confused look, obviously not getting the reference, but brushes off your oddities fairly quickly with a charming 'see, I'm a patient gentleman' smile. "Oh. But to be with you, every moment is like a fairytale."

"Perhaps Mulan would be more to your taste."

"Tres Bien!" He exclaims, eyes taking a very sultry smolder. "But with such a tasty treat as yourself at my side, what need have I for second best?" Ouch! You silently send an apology to Karren for walking into that one.

"Perhaps. But you know. Keeping your options open instead of devoting everything to one person so soon isn't always a bad thing." Kaneki... "I mean. We did just meet three- no, two hours ago."

"Ah." The man sighed dreamily, the expression on his face a strongly rousing blend of innocent musings and sinful promise. "But it seems that amour waits for the whims of no man." Smooth bastard, you think venomously, trying to control the heat rushing to you cheeks.

[Now if only you'd give in and get down with the horizontal tango path, many selfs and an increasingly tired writer could breathe a sigh of relief.]

[Thus, Divine Intervention is in order.]

"I apologize, ma chérie, but I must use the washroom. I'll be back in just a moment." And with nary a glance back, the tall, lithe hunk of carnivorous man glided across the wood floors with predatory grace.

Suspicious of the sudden departure, you searched around your table and found your previously convenient handkerchief to have gone missing.

You groaned. Faceplanting the table before growling. "Damn you, YellowJackz. Shove your divine intervention up your lazy ass and go do the dishes before your mama gets home."

And so, though you may not have slept well that night, at least your reader self got the XXX ending they wanted.