#dodge club pocket
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Belle Mort || LN4
AN: this was deep in the archives of abandoned fics but figured I’ll just post it anyway.
Pairing: Lando Norris x vampire!fem!reader
Summary: Your paths weren’t meant to cross - he was a famous driver and your brethren were the thing of myths and nightmares.
Warnings: smut, major character death
He didn’t belong here.
You could only surmise Vinny let him in the club because he knew an easy target when he saw one. Rich, young and handsome - he was ripe for the taking. A part of you knew not to get involved but, unlike your brother, you had a small conscience, especially when it came to the pretty, blue-eyed man who had shared your bed.
Making your way across the busy dance floor of Belle Mort, you snaked between the women who were selling themselves to the richest man one sway of their hips at a time. You slapped away roaming hands that tried to pull you into their laps and glared at the men until they looked away with wounded egos.
Your brother spotted the target and you stepped lightly in your high heels as you dodged the revellers, finally making it in front of the handsome man. “Qu'est-ce que tu fais, garçon perdu?”
Lando smirked as he cast his eyes over your body, the tight fitted dress hiding very little of the body he knew intimately. “I don’t speak French.”
“I know.”
His hand caught your waist and pulled you closer, his lips brushing your cheek. “You didn’t call me.”
You rolled your eyes at the need that laced his words, but it would have been a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it. You had even kept his number when you should have deleted it. Your worlds were so far apart you didn’t see the point in making it more than a one night stand, it was safer that way. “I know. Find another bar.”
“I like this one.” His hand tightened and his thumb brushed over your ribs, tracing the curve under your breast. His smirk grew as he felt your ribs expand with the sharp intake of air you took.
“You’ve never been here before.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I own it.”
“Co-own, dear sister,” Nix added as he stepped to your side. “And if Lando wants to party then who are we to deny him.”
You narrowed your eyes at your brother. “It’s bad for business.”
“Why? Because you mixed it with pleasure,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair, cracking your neck as he pushed you away to leer at the man himself. “I can see the appeal. No one can deny you have good taste, it’s just a shame you always leave them broken.”
“What’s he talking about?” Lando asked as he helped keep you steady from your brother's push.
“Nix has always been jealous of me, haven’t you?” you taunted him. “Always wanted my dolls for himself.”
Nix’s jaw ticked and if the music wasn’t so loud you probably could have heard a tooth break. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
“I’m on a break,” you stated, catching Lando’s attention as you grabbed his wrist and started to drag him to your office before freezing. Your hand met bare skin and you held your hand out to your brother. “Give it back. Now.”
Nix rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket to return the watch he had easily lifted from Lando. The glass and diamond face slapped into your palm but you curled a brow at him and cleared your throat, waiting for the rest.
“You really used to be more fun,” he grumbled as he returned Lando’s wallet too. “Don’t worry, the condom is still in there.”
“And the cash?”
“I don’t think that is really your worry, but yes, cash too.”
Nix disappeared into the crowd and even you found it difficult to trace his movements but he was one of the fastest vampires you knew.
“Interesting family you have,” Lando commented as the music was cut off with your office door.
“You should be more careful,” you warned as you slid the security chain onto the latch. “This side of town could get a guy like you killed.”
“A guy like me?” he asked as he accepted the whiskey you poured, neat. “Handsome?”
“Well known,” you corrected, despite his knowing smirk. Of course you found him handsome, or else you wouldn’t have let him fuck you in the bathrooms of another nightclub in the city. You had a business meeting, with a wolf no less, and the owner had left you displeased, so you found another form of pleasure in his den. “Where you go, pictures are taken. That is bad for my business.”
Who knew what illegal activities those pictures or videos might capture and be uploaded. Voices had been silenced for less in the dark alleys around the club - but the bodies were never found.
Lando took a sip as he weighed your words of warning, but it didn’t stop him wanting to go another round with you. He knew you were different from the moment he saw you. Determination and strength rolled off you as you stalked through the club to a door labelled ‘staff only’. A different look of determination had been seen when you emerged, scanning the crowd for someone to use - he had come to the club for the same reason.
“I can be invisible, when I want to be,” he promised as he followed you to the desk you leaned back on, crossing your heeled ankles in front of you. He placed the glass on the wood beside you and smelt the smooth spirit on his breath when he kissed the corner of your lips. “But I wanted you to notice me, again.”
His hand ran down your thighs and your ankles uncrossed. He took the space given and parted your legs so he could step between them and steal your moan with his kiss. His tongue parted your lips with the same confidence he parted your legs and he hummed when your hands slipped under his shirt, your nails dragging down his spine.
“I’m going to fuck you on your desk and every time you have a meeting here you will think of me.”
Desire pooled between your thighs at the promise and when his fingers found your body bare beneath the dress he felt it slick and warm. “You like that idea don’t you?” he chuckled in your ear, the deep timber of his gravelled voice making you clench around his fingers before they withdrew from you. “Turn around.”
For a woman who considered herself to be the bossy one, you were quick to follow his instruction and it didn’t go amiss from the smirk on his face. “I don’t remember you being this demanding last time,” you said over your shoulder, feeling the air on your skin as he pushed your dress up over your hips.
“That’s because you looked like you needed it more than me.” He flipped his wallet open and pulled the condom out, tearing through the foil packaging before rolling it down his hard length. With one swipe of his arm he cleared space on your desk and started to push you down before he changed his mind and spun you to face him. “Actually, I want to see your face when I make you come.”
The mahogany wood was hard under your ass and you spread your knees for Lando to step between. His cock pressed to your entrance and he watched your lips part as he slowly began to stretch you, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside you.
“You’re going to call me, aren’t you?” he asked with the teasingly slow retreat he made. He stopped just short of leaving you empty and made no move to fill you again. “I’m not going to fuck you until you answer me.”
You tried to shuffle your hips closer but he held them tight and your feet were off the ground so you couldn’t move, not without revealing your unnatural strength. Finally a frustrated sound left your lips and he smiled triumphantly when you agreed. “Now would you please fuck me?”
He answered with the snap of his hips and you moaned in unison as he filled you completely. The computer screen came to life and the mouse moved with the rocking desk and the cup of pens tipped over, scattering among the mess he had already made. Stars danced across your vision and your body pulsed with the deep bass that made it through the soundproof door.
“Lando,” you moaned as you tipped his head back, baring his neck as you felt your canines elongating behind your lips. The throb of his rapid pulse invited you to taste him and you dragged your nose over the vein, inhaling the rich scent hidden beneath his cologne. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
He shivered as your teeth grazed his skin but he was too far gone in his pleasure to question the sharp points. Just a little sip, you told yourself.
Lando gasped as pain flared, but just as quickly as it came it bled to a burn that felt better than any high he had ever had. He couldn’t breathe as you sucked at the puncture wounds, filling your belly with the same need you had for his cock.
He couldn’t explain how he found himself sat on the couch in your office with you on his lap, he had only blinked. You were high on him, making silly errors like using your speed and strength carelessly. You weren’t new to this life, but you were acting like it with him.
“Why did you come here?”
His head fell back and his eyes closed as you took your pleasure in riding him. He couldn’t think, there was only the tight feeling in all his muscles as his orgasm threatened to shatter him beneath you. “Just wanted you,” he choked as he bucked his hips up to meet you. “Again.”
You cried out as your climax peaked and Lando followed, unable to hold back with how tight you felt around him. Your head spun as the high receded, but you wanted more - it was the curse of immortality, you always wanted more.
You turned his head and struck again, lapping at the twin lines of life blood running down his collar. Cursing inwardly, you realised you were taking too much, you always took too much when you played with your food. Lando’s eyes fluttered shut and his breathing laboured, his skin fading before your eyes. Nix was right, you always left them broken.
“Fuck,” you growled at the thought of losing another man. Tearing the skin from your wrist you made what was possibly the second biggest mistake of your life, the first would always be asking for this life. Your blood was thicker and darker than his, staining his lips as you squeezed it out before the wound could heal.
“Wake up…” You prayed you weren’t too late, the seconds ticking by with quiet reassurance that time would continue to move on even if Lando never did again.
—
Nix crashed through the office door as dawn approached and the club closed. His black eyes found Lando’s body on the couch and a sneer carved across his lips. “What a waste.”
You barely lifted your head from your hands as you sat at your desk. You had felt lethargic from a full belly and drained veins. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You never do,” he snickered. “There will be people looking for him, I’ll have Vinny dump him in the marina - another rich boy who partied too hard.”
Lando gasped as he jolted upright, his eyes ringed red from the transformation, and a war waged within you. Rage exuded from Nix as he realised the danger you had put the entire coven in and his features sharpened as his fangs pierced his lips. “You would bring the Council down on our heads, sister?”
“I said I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t stand to see another die because of my weakness.”
“I would rather you have just killed him.” Nix pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. To change a human required petitioning to the Council, and permits were rarely given this century - and certainly not to those well known. People tend to notice when someone doesn’t age at the same rate: Jennifer Anniston, Cillian Murphy, Paul Rudd, Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Those half breeds could get away with it for a little longer but they would soon be faking their own deaths to keep the secret of their heritage.
“Take him to the mountains,” Nix said as he crossed the room to where Lando writhed in pain on the carpet, the transition destroying his delicate human cells for something much more robust. “I’ll tie up the loose ends here.”
Nix took the car keys from Lando’s pocket and checked his watch. There was still enough time before dawn came to wreck the car off the cliffs and into the French Riviera. When the car was found empty they would assume his body was carried out to sea. Lando Norris was dead. Lando de Belle Mort had risen.
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#vampire!reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction
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"...𝕀'𝕞 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕥𝕚𝕡𝕤𝕪"
Drunk!Izuku midoriya x tipsy!fem!reader
Cw: Reader gets felt up, pda, affectionate petting, teasing, pregnancy mentioned, might seem like dubcon? Tell me if it does, unprotected sex, Drunk sex?, dirty talk kind of.
Writing this was slightly embarrassing cause I used my own experiences to make it slightly more realistic since I've never written full on smut (｡・//ε//・｡)
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The bustle of the night club could be heard. Flashing lights, people dancing their hearts out, it was all a blur.
She could hear the chatter of the people around her, though she wasn't necessary paying much attention to it.
Warm rough hands trail up and down your stomach, a soft hum in her ear as lips grazed her neck.
"You're so warm.." his tone slurred as he purred in her ear. She let out a chuckle, letting her fingers trail along his forearm.
"I can smell the liquor on you." Her voice light as she teased him.
She leaned into his sweet kisses against her neck as she looked around them. They sat comfortably in a booth seat in the back of the club, but she was still mindful of her surroundings.
She felt him hum against her neck, sucking a mark into her skin.
"I can smell it on you too." Izuku whispered in her ear. She felt his hand trail up to her breast, she caught it before he could grab at her and placed it on the table.
"You can't just- feel me up in public babe." He let out a whine, placing his chin on her shoulder "Sorry.."
Her hand reached around to cradle his face. He leaned into the feeling with a smile. "You're just so...hot. I can't resist."
His breath was hot in her ear, a shiver running up her spine as she pushed him away.
"Don't talk in my ear.." her voice was barley a mumble as she spoke.
A smirk spread across his lips as he easily peeled her hand away, moving closer to her. "Y'know you're no better then me, you're thighs keep rubbing together in my lap.." she let his hand trail down her body to her thighs.
He groped and kneaded the soft supple skin as he continued, "I know, you can feel my...problem against your lower back..~" he whispered in her.
She let out a huff, pulling his hands away, ultimately ignoring his claims "I'm saving you from waking up and possibly seeing an article about you feeling up your fiance in a night club." She turned around in his arms as she softly spoke, her lips so close to his.
Izuku's lips parted slightly, his breath becoming heavier as he tried to lean in.
"Or...is that something you want?" Her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. His lips curled up into a smirk.
"mmm...~ knowing my fans they'd like it." He snarkly said back, leaning in to kiss her.
With a giggle, she dodged him. Shaking her head she poked his cheek, "well, as the less intoxicated person, I still say no."
He let out a whine, "Damn...was really hoping to sneak into the bathroom for a quickie."
"Good god deku." She giggled as she got up out of his lap.
"Not the hero name... oh?" He sat up with her, his legs were slightly wobbly. She let him lean his weight against her. "I'm assuming you're gonna drive us home?"
She nodded as she led them out of the club.
"you're such a good girlfriend. Mmm.. you're sooo nice." His words slurred, she made sure to stay close to him as they made their way over to his car.
As they approached, she leaned him against the car. Standing in front of him, she let her lay gently on his chest. A smile on her face as she looked at him, "You're so cute Izuku.~" She leaned up and gave him a quick kiss.
Before he could deepen it, he felt her pull away to open the passenger seat for him, he sighed, sitting in the car and letting her close his door.
Izuku watched her walk around to the driver's side and sit in the car, observing her. As she opened the driver's side and got in the car she leaned over to him go grab his keys.
Feeling for his keys in his pants pocket she saw his hands grab her wrist. She gave him a look of confusion.
"If you instead just wanted to do this in the car you could've said that..." She gave him a scoff, pulling her wrists out of his grip and taking his keys from his side pocket.
"You're a trip y'know that?" She states as she starts up the car, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.
Izuku smiled, "I know right?" He watched as they pasted by buildings, watching the way the lights of the night blurred together as she drove. The cool feeling of the window helped the dizzying feeling he felt.
The car was filled with calming silence as she drove them to their apartment. Izuku rested his head back as he watched her drive, a doppy grin on his lips. As she pulled into the parking lot she made sure to park the car.
Taking the car out of drive, she looked over to him, catching his gaze. She smiled, "What?"
"nothing, just thinking about you."
"anything in particular?"
"How much I love you." Izuku leaned over the console slightly, making sure to slightly crowd her. He grabbed her right hand, fiddling with the ring on her ring finger.
She let him fiddle with her ring as she listened to his murmurs, "Whenever I imagine us married, I think of you in this big poofy white and pink dress. Pink is such your color..."
She gave him a small smile, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. Izuku turned his head to kiss her lips.
The slight taste of liquor still present as he tried to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping against her bottom lip.
With a giggle, she pulled away while still keep the close proximity. His breathing was slow as he kept his eye closed, "I also think alot about our honeymoon..." He sighed out.
She playfully rolled her eyes, "Like what?"
He smirked as he leaned in close to her ear, "Maybe...me getting you pregnant? Or just the act of it."
The car was getting stuffy. The tension being built was too much for her, she opened her door letting some of the cool night air into the car.
Izuku watched as she walked around to his side of the car to get him out. Stepping out of the car he looked down at her with a shrug of his shoulders, "or I could do it right now? Get you pregnant before we even plan out the wedding?"
She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to be at her level. "Babe?"
His eyes was widened and his face was red, "Y-yeah?"
"Shut up." She let go of his shirt as she made her way to the front door of their apartment complex.
Izuku's silence only lasted the trip up to his apartment. As they entered the living room he watched as she took her shoes off and walked through his apartment. He calmly followed her into his bedroom as he watched her take the dress off to put on a shirt.
She made a show of crawling onto the bed, a brief smile on her face, "I can feel you staring." She rolled over on her back as she beckoned him onto the bed.
He frantically took his clothes off too, almost falling when he tried to remove his pants. Being left only in his underwear he crawled his way over to her. Lifting her shirt (his shirt) up to put his head under.
She giggled as she felt him kiss her belly, "What are you doing?" She squealed as he started to tickle her sides.
"Stop! What are you doing!?" She felt him chuckle against her skin as his fingers stopped. His kisses slowed down as he kissed up her sternum to her breasts, "Why do you still have your bra on if we're gonna go to sleep soon?"
"You want to go to sleep?" He whined as he lifted up the shirt to look at her with a pout, "You're sending me mixed messages.."
She laughed as she ran her hands through his hair, "I'm sorry, it's just fun to tease you."
He let out a huff as he swiftly ripped her bra in two as he pulled the shirt up over her chest.
"Deku?! What the hell that was my favorite br-" he leaned down and kissed her nipple. His other hand groped her neglected breast as he looked up at her.
His half lidded eyes glowed green as he flicked his tongue over her nipple. Closing his lips around it he gave it a quick suck before pulling away. He stared down at her, "You play too much.."
She smirked, she lifted her thigh up to graze against his groin, "You love it." He shrugged as he leaned down to kiss at her neck.
He shamelessly humped against her thigh as his left hand trailed down her body to her panties. He grabbed the front of the panties and pulled up, she let out a moan, the feeling of the Cotton panties rubbed against her clit.
"You're so pretty.." he pulled away from her neck and laid his head on her chest. Pulling her panties to the side he softly rubbed his finger against her slit, "Oh?"
Dipping his finger inside he pulled back out, "Mm... You're soaked.." She covered her face with her hands, a muffled 'shut up' coming from her.
"Being so high and mighty but you were soaking your panties the whole time? Terrible."
He pulled her hands away from her face, looking down at her with a smile, "I think it's cute." Two of his fingers dipped in her entrance as he kept talking.
"You're kind of a hypocrite though. Listen to how you sound, I'm not even doing anything." He chuckled as he set a steady peace, the sounds coming from her pussy making his head dizzy.
She let out a whine of his name as she looked up at him. He gave her a kiss as he quicken his pace, swallowing up her moans.
He felt her legs start to shake as she closed her legs around his wrist. He continued the pace before he pulled away from her.
After removing both of their underwear he positioned himself at her entrance, her legs folded to her chest as he watched the tip slip in.
They both sighed when he filled her up, a shudder ran up his spine before he started on a slow pace.
The slow yet deep in and out push of his thrusts were a lot for her.
He felt her foot against his chest as she tried to push away, grabbing her calves he gently pushed her legs up to her ears as he sped up his pace.
He leaned his head down closer towards her ear, his whimpers and grunts causing her to moan.
"This...this was all I wanted. I c-could tell you did too, you just- ah~ like to play with my emotions." He breathlessly stated as he felt his orgasm building up.
She pulled him down into a kiss, she moved her hips up to meet his thrusts as he sped up more.
The kiss was sloppy, she ran her hands through his hair as she felt her orgasms run through her. A content moan left his lips as he helped her through her orgasm.
He pulled out to not overstimulate her and frantically rubbed his dick between her thighs.
He let out a moan if her name, cum splattering on her stomach.
With a sigh he collapsed onto her and the both of them immediately fell asleep.
The next morning Izuku woke up to a few articles of him kissing his fiance in the back of a club.
Izuku: Dam...
(he stayed home with you all day and y'all gave each other the aftercare you missed)
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This took so long to make! Sorry I had school and I'm finna have exams soon. Also I feel like I didn't do the smut good, tell me what you think tho :]
#deku smut#deku x reader#izuku x y/n#izuku midoriya smut#izuku smut#izuku x reader#deku x y/n#izuku x you#mha fanfiction#mha smut
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Everything Has Changed
part 1- the chronicles of a stargirl and her sun masterlist
Luke Castellan x reader
Summary- you travel to camp and end up meeting a certain someone for a brief moment but it's enough.
Word count- 5k
Notes- my first Luke fanfic! It's going to be a series of sorts with each part based vaguely off a different Taylor Swift song. I was not planning on it being this long, I thought it'd be max 3k but no the gods of creativity struck. Thanks to @imaginingmoonlight for the beautiful vibe up top and also to @fangirlfreak08 for helping me choose the song. I love you both mwah
“Run!” A voice yelled from behind you, a hand placed on your back to push you forwards even as your legs started to give out beneath you. Rain poured down around you, soaking through your clothes and making the muddy ground harder to run on. Your hair fell in a limp curtain around your face, raindrops catching on your lashes and obscuring your vision. The sun had set and you had only the pale light of the moon to guide you up the hill and towards the pine tree at the top of it. A roar echoed from in the trees and you whipped your head around in a panic. The trees were falling, hitting the ground hard, the thundering noises rippling through the air. That was your mistake. Within a second you tripped on a tree root protruding from the soil, tumbling to the sodden grass, scraping your knees on the rocks hidden underneath moss. Then you heard the roars again. Closer this time. The trees continued falling, crashing down with louds boom, and with them fell your hopes of survival. your scrambled to your feet and started to run. But they were faster. So much faster. The loud thudding as they lumbered after us made your heart race. You looked to the side to see Ash limping beside you, his hooves sinking into the hillside and a gash on his leg leaking blood. He was pulling along Maisie, her green eyes wide with fear as her little legs struggled to keep up with him. you stopped in your tracks. Ash turned to you quickly.
“What are you doing? We have to run.” You shook your head, shoulders slumping as you whispered.
“We won't make it,” You gestured to the falling trees, the monsters coming closer with each second, ”Go Ash, you'll be fine.” Your voice was small and unsure, barely a whisper but you smiled and looked him in the eye. “You'll be fine. Get her to safety.” He opened his mouth to speak but the last tree snapped and they stood there, waiting.
There were more than you had thought there was. Or maybe they had just collected some more along the way you thought. They stood tall, ugly hulking builds covered with thin scraps of cloth, they locked on you and sped up, practically leaping closer. You pushed Ash forward and he started running again, looking back at you for a moment and you smiled at him before you ran sideways. They took the bait and chased after you, swinging clubs in the air and slamming them down so the ground shook. you dodged their blows that they rained down on you, darting over tree stumps lining the hillside. Your breath came fast and heavy, blood rushing in your ears, heart feeling as if it would burst out of your chest as you ran. Legs taking long strides like a gazelle, flying over the earthen ground.
Suddenly a club whizzed down past your ear and you let out a cry, slipping and tumbling to the ground. They surrounded you as you stumbled back up, slipping your hand into your pocket to grab your pocket knife.
“Well, well, well if it isn't a little demigod.” One of them sneered, their big round eye focused on you. “Unlucky for you we're hungry.” Your eyes flicked around taking note of the monsters, a few cyclops, some weird giant things that were just as disgusting but had two eyes, and a hellhound. All looking to eat you. One of the cyclops reached out to you eagerly. your slashed down on its wrist, drawing golden blood and it let out a howl of pain. Its face contorted and for a moment the rest of them took their gaze off you to focus on their injured friend. You took your chance and jumped to your feet, shooting into the woods. Branches scraped your skin and dirt stuck to your clothes, your felt warm blood dripping from a cut on your forehead and wiped it away with the palm of your hand. A large hand gripped onto your shoulder and lifted you into the air, dangling you like a ragdoll, shaking you viciously and sneering in your face. A sharp blade plunged into their arm and they disintegrated into dust, leaving the rest to gape at you first in shock then anger as they resumed the chase through the undergrowth. Lightning split through the air and thunder rumbled as you ran, it seemed never ending. Were you to be stuck in this circle until they finally caught you and ended your life?
One by one the monsters lunged at you, and one by one you swung your blade and they became dust. They apparently didn't learn that the knife was bad for them and they should avoid it. Eventually there was only one left but you were tired. So, so tired. You had been running for what felt like days and you wanted to give up. Your footsteps slowed down and came to a stop. In a flash the last cyclops standing snatched you up and began gloating. You tuned it out. Eyes barely staying open and brain fuzzy. You were bruised all over and your body was weeping red. This wasn't important anymore. It was done, your death warrant signed. You were done.
All of a sudden you were dropping to the floor, landing on your back and gazing up at the sky full of stars, your vision darkened blotting out the moon. A face appeared above you. Dark brown eyes and curly hair barely distinguishable in the dark, but the light grew. Closer and closer, brighter and brighter.
“-Hear me.” You made out as the buzzing in your ears grew louder. You turned your head to the side and reached out a hand to grab your knife laying just inches away. The cool metal was a comforting presence. In that moment you clasped it in your grip and looked up into the eyes above, a small smile on your face as you drifted into darkness, the boy's lips moving, yelling things you couldn’t hear.
You wake up with a start, laying on the floor, head resting on a mossy log. You pull yourself off the ground, looking around quickly. You stood in a clearing, bright green grass dotted with flowers of every colour, tall trees lining the outside, separating it from the dark forest beyond. Water rushes behind you, clear blue falling and gathering in a pool surrounded by rocks. You climb up and stare down at your reflection, a look of confusion paints itself on your face. You're wearing a cream dress with flowers intricately woven into the fabric and somehow the same flowers are twined into your hair, almost as if they were a crown. You reach down into the water as if to check it was really you and it ripples out from where your finger touched, the reflection changed to the hillside.
You hear the monsters again. They chase after you, teeth bared, eyes glowing red as they taunt you.
“You couldn't save them.”
“We ate them both.”
“The girl was especially tasty.”
You scream and they surround you. There is no end to the torment as the wind bites your skin and rain soothes the burn. They do not stop. Their growling voices stamped into memory as their claws start to tear into your skin. You scream and shout, arms waving around but this time there is no knife to help you. Blood gushes out of your body in waterfalls, staining the grass and mixing with muddy puddles that start to form. The pain starts to fade as you let go and a figure hovers over you.
Your eyes blink open, vision blurry and body aching. You turn your head and the boy is standing next to you.
“Go back to sleep.” He says. “You're safe.” You listen and slip back into dreamland.
This time you're at home. Your bedroom is cluttered with clothes and school supplies. Not a single part of the floor is visible. It's dark outside, snow falling, flakes spinning in the gentle breeze. You remember this night, the night you found out the truth. But nothing changed, you continued to live normally. Until now that is. You creep down the stairs and hear voices. Your parents, arguing over you. Their words are indistinguishable, muffled by a buzzing sound that covers your ears almost like a blanket. You sit halfway down on the steps, the wooden panels cold to touch as you tap your fingers on them. Your mum appears at the bottom of the steps and smiles, her brown hair tied loosely in a ponytail. She was at work all day and her eyes are tired but she holds her arms out.
“C'mere.” She says simply and you crash into her as she strokes your hair, whispering softly and planting gentle kisses on your hair. Soon your dad joins the hug, his large body smelling of chocolate and cinnamon as he encases you and your mum. You feel safe like this. As if nothing could ever hurt you and you sit on the couch in between them laughing at the TV as you sip on hot chocolate-your dads specialty-topped with whipped cream and marshmallows that melt into a gooey mess in the mug. And in that moment all is right in the world. But the universe is cruel and wicked and loves us just that little bit too much that it can never let something else have that which is theirs. Because that, that is the exact moment when you wake up.
Your eyes opened slowly and you stared up, nests perched on the wooden beams across the roof home to tiny baby birds that chirped demandingly for their parents to feed them. You groaned and sat up, the covers slipping off the bed, exposing your bare legs to the cold air that swept through the room. You shivered, pulling on the orange top with black lettering and a pegasus on the front that was definitely not yours and was way too big so it hung loosely on your body, a pair of black leggings-the only thing that fit right-and a hoodie next to your bed, again not yours, in fact the hoodie was so big on you that you had to roll the sleeves up three times, on the upside it was incredibly comfortable and it smelled nice, like freshly picked mint and lemon. Your clothes had been pretty ruined, you thought, it was nice of them to give you some new ones. You tugged on your pair of trainers that had been laid on the floor, the only things that belonged to you. No longer pure white, instead pretty much black. Standing up unsteadily you breathed deeply, fighting off the feeling of nausea and grabbed the glass of water on the side table, downing it in one, gasping at the coldness as it slid down your throat. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked horrible, pale with dark circles under your eyes accentuated by the shadow of a bruise on your cheekbone and a plaster stuck to your forehead. Your arms were covered in tiny scratches and plasters that had little pink hearts drawn on them with a shaky hand.
You walked over to the door and opened it, carefully stepping out and closing it behind you. You turned and took in the sight in front of you. It was a summer camp, kids roaming about in bright orange shirts, all laughing and joking together. Not one of them noticed you. You made your way to a conservatory type place and stopped dead in your tracks as you noticed a man sitting in a chair, his eyes closed as if he were sleeping, greying hair and beard looking as if he had been electrified. And he was wearing a leopard print shirt, bold choice but okay.
However he wasn't what stopped you. Not at all. That would have been the centaur, standing there dealing cards to the other man and Ash. Your eyes widened, that was an actual centaur, he was literally half horse, like in the myths. A quiet snort of disbelief escaped your lips, a hand flying to cover the noise. Ash turned around and saw you standing there like a bloody lemon. He stood up hastily, his hooves, his bloody hooves, clicking against the stones.
“You're awake.” He patted the chair next to him and you sat down hesitantly.
“What's going on here exactly? Is Maisie safe? What is this place?”
The centaur sent a stern look to Ash.
“You didn't tell her.” Ash smiled weakly.
“I didn't have much of a chance to. What with all the cyclops, hellhounds and gods knows what else that were on our tail.” The centaur sighed deeply, his bushy grey eyebrows drawing closer together as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“No matter. I suppose I will just have to do the explaining now.” He smiled at me. “Welcome to Camp-Half Blood.” You nodded slightly and Ash caught the look of confusion that crossed your face. He pointed to the centaur and then the man.
“Chiron, activities director. Mr D camp director.” Chiron bowed his head slightly in greeting while the other guy sipped on a can of diet coke.
“Hi,” You muttered, “But I was serious, who's going to tell me what's going on here, and is Maisie okay? And when you say Chiron do you mean Chiron or Chiron?” You questioned, looking around, Chiron opened his mouth but Ash beat him to it.
“Maisie is fine. She's settled in pretty well here, everyone loves her so don't worry about her. I do mean Chiron Chiron, as in immortal trainer of heroes. As for the other question, that might take a bit longer to explain but I'll give it a shot.” Ash always was the confident one you thought as he stood up and went over to Chiron, always better than you in these types of situations. Ash clapped his hands together and took a deep breath before allowing everything to spill out in a jumble.
“So you know how you could see those monsters and they wanted to kill you?” You shivered and nodded. “Well the reason you could see them is because you're a half-blood. Half god half human, also known as demigods.”
“God? As in the Bible, Christianity and the Garden of Eden. That God.”
“Not quite.” Chiron answered. “Not God, the gods, the Ancient Greek Gods, the Olympians if you will, and one of them is your mother or father.” You stared at him blankly.
“What? But they aren't real, they were just stories.” The diet coke man sat up with a jolt and eyed me.
“The gods are very real and this one is trying to sleep.” You gaped at him, eyebrows furrowed as your mind worked.
“Mr D,” You muttered, “You're Dionysus, the god of wine and madness. And you're just here. At a summer camp?” The man grumbled under his breath.
“This is where chasing after one of dear old dads nymphs lands you. Looking after a bunch of teenage half-wit half-bloods. As if not being able to drink properly wasn't enough.” He lamented. You frowned and were about to ask before Chiron beat you to it.
“Lord Dionysus has been forbidden by his father, Lord Zeus, to consume alcohol as a punishment. His presence here is also part of the punishment. He must be camp director for 100 years before the ban is lifted and he can return to Olympus full time.” You nodded, not quite understanding but choosing to leave the subject at hand.
“So I'm a half-blood?” Ash shoved a metal can in his face and nodded.
“Yep, you wouldn't have been able to get past the boundary line if you weren't one, you wouldn't have been able to see the monsters and they definitely wouldn't have been trying to eat you.”
“How do they know?” You asked softly.
“Know…”
“How do they recognise half-bloods?” He shrugged.
“There have been lots of theories but the one that has been proven is that demigods have a certain smell, it's kinda in their blood. Obviously mixed in with the human there's a bit of godly ichor, only the tiniest of bits but it's enough, and when that kind of blood mixes with the human blood in demigods bodies from the mortal side, it creates a smell that only monsters can notice.”
“So like a chemical reaction.” You said quietly to yourself. Somehow the others all heard, Chiron chuckled and Mr D sent you a look of disdain while Ash contemplated the thought.
“That's not a bad way to describe it actually, I'll have to use that next time. But back to the monsters. Naturally they can smell demigods from miles away so they have a better shot at killing them and they always follow the smell because they know that at the other end of it is usually a snack for them, if not two. Of course some kids smell stronger, usually those ones are more powerful, so more monsters will go after them. And usually those kids die pretty quickly unless a satyr brings them here.” You glance down at Ashs hooves.
“You're a satyr.”
“Yes I am.”
“And your job was to get Maisie and I here.”
“It was. I'm your protector, my job was to watch you and see if you were a demigod then when I was sure I had to bring you here. I found Maisie as well by sheer luck, she probably wouldn't have lived much longer out there.” He picked up another can and bit into it.
“What do you mean?”
“Most monsters.” He started with his mouth full and you made a disgusted look. He grinned sheepishly then swallowed, “Sorry. Most monsters only start to really go after demigods when they're about the 5th or 6th grade. That's when the weird stuff starts to happen as they start to get more powerful.” I opened my mouth. “Before you ask no, I don't know why you've managed to last this long. There's only a few demigods who make it to your age without being found but they're typically the children of minor gods whereas you are definitely not.” You blinked.
“I'm half god, I'm constantly going to be running and trying to not die and you bring me to a summer camp.” You started, voice growing slightly louder with each point.
“When you say it like that it does sound a bit stupid.” Ash mumbled as Chiron clopped over and placed a hand on your back.
“Come child, take a walk with me.” You followed him out the doors, turning back to see Ash giving you an awkward smile and a thumbs up.
“Ash, get me another diet coke.” Mr D demanded and Ash jumped up, scuttling out of the room with the old can in his hand.
Soon enough you were out of sight, walking slowly through the camp.
“The life of a half-blood is never easy.” Chiron began. ”That is what this camp is for. It is a safe haven where you can live peacefully and make friends. We train you so that whenever you do go back into the mortal world you can protect yourself from monsters if they should choose to come after you. I have seen many a half-blood pass through here and each one has emerged with skills that help them survive. You may leave if you wish but you will always be welcome here.”
“What if I fail? What if I get someone killed? I almost got Maisie killed. ” Chiron smiled pityingly.
“You may fail over and over but you can only get better with time. The greatest heroes in the past never got it on the first try. They had to practise hard to get to the top, to be remembered. And so will you. You fought bravely out there, you have great potential to be a formidable hero and make your godly parent proud.” You stared at him.
“How will I know which god or goddess my parent is?” Chiron chuckled.
“They will send a sign and claim you if they wish.”
“You mean they might not even want me?”
“No but the gods are busy and they do not always have the time to claim all of their children.” His tail swished behind him and he led you over to a small girl, her long braids tied back in a ponytail. “This is Annabeth Chase. She will show you around and help you adjust, she was one of the campers who found you in the forest.” Annabeth scrutinised you, her large brown eyes locked on the way you twisted your fingers nervously. “She is one of our year round campers and has been here for almost a year now. I think despite her young age and apparent lack of experience you’ll find her very capable indeed.” With that he trotted away leaving you alone with Annabeth who merely remained staring at you. And more closely at the clothes you were wearing. You shifted uncomfortably at her unwavering gaze.
“So, Annabeth,” You began awkwardly, voice as quiet as possible, “Who’s your godly um relation?” She regarded you silently before sighing.
“My mother is Athena, goddess of wisdom. And I don't have to be a child of Athena to tell that you are very confused.”
“Is it that obvious?” You asked, she levelled a look at you that read really.
“Yes it is that obvious. Walk with me. I'll explain everything about camp that Chiron didn't.” She set off towards a lake, leaving you to trail behind her.
“You know we're demigods, half mortal half god, yes?” She nodded and continued. “And you know about monsters and all that? So you know when they're ready your mum or dad will claim you?” At your nod she continued. “While you're unclaimed you'll live in the Hermes cabin which I will show you later. It'll be our last stop so you can get settled in immediately and Chiron already had your stuff taken over so that'll be waiting.” She stopped in her tracks as we got to the beach. “This is the canoe lake. Watch out for the nymphs, they can get a bit violent sometimes but only if you do something stupid to provoke them.” She pointed to a wall dripping orange in the distance. “That's the climbing wall, the lava is an incentive to actually climb and not fall. But you'd be surprised at the amount of people who still end up getting sent to the infirmary to be treated for burns by the Apollo kids. Some of their stupidity astounds me, then again it is only ever the boys so maybe it's just that boys are stupid.” You smiled slightly at her logic, while not entirely true it showed a tiny crack in her otherwise unflappable exterior. She shook her head as if in disbelief of her own words. “Anyway, the amphitheatre is over there.” She gestured to a mass of stone and turned around, marching back up the sandy path. You both walked for about half an hour until she stopped. “Over there are the strawberry fields, that's what our cover is. Delphi Strawberries.” She grinned. “Can't have people knowing this is really a place where kids learn to kill stuff. Besides they can't see through the barrier so even if we did tell them the truth they'd just think we were lying.” Your face spoke for itself, yet another thing you didn't understand. “I'll explain another time.” She pointed to a huge stone structure that reminded you a little of the Colosseum, then two other much smaller shacks. “That's the arena, when you've learnt how, you can practise fighting with weapons there, that's the forge where the Hephaestus kids make the aforementioned weapons. Of course anyone can use it but they can get a bit territorial. And that there is the armoury where we store all the weapons and armour. We’ll probably take you there tomorrow and if not then it'll be sometime this week at least.”
“We?” You asked and she blinked.
“My brother and I. He's good with weapons so he’ll be able to help you find one that suits you. Better than I would be able to at least.” You nodded in understanding, looking up at the darkening sky and then the watch on your wrist, the strap barely held together. Annabeth followed your gaze. “It's getting pretty late. We've probably missed dinner but there'll be plenty of leftovers for us to just grab quickly from the Big House. But we should hurry up just in case.” She turned on her heel and started sprinting along the grass. You followed hurriedly, ignoring the pain that shot through your legs with every footstep. As you ran you looked around camp. Illuminated in the glow of the setting sun it was beautiful, the greenest grass you had ever seen and deep woodlands rich with vibrant wildlife. The strawberry fields seemed to be rolling and endless across the hills, pink dots seeming to engulf the green. Annabeth halted in front of the huge farmhouse you had come from earlier and brushed the dirt off her cargo pants and the same orange shirt as you before entering.
You both made your way to the conservatory area and as soon as Annabeth entered she piled up a plate with food. You followed suit, grabbing a few slices of pizza, some chips, cucumber and a chocolate cupcake. Your eyes followed Annabeth as she walked up to a bronze brazier and flicked in some food, Bowing her head and muttering something under her breath. She looked at you and tipped her head.
“Your turn. You just scoop in some food and say a quick prayer.” You raised an eyebrow and she sighed. “I'll…”
“Explain later, I know, I know.” You dropped a slice of pizza into the flame and mumbled.
“Whoever you are, accept this delicious slice of pizza and just yeah.” You finished lamely and stepped back, immediately biting into the pizza and marvelling at the taste. “No wonder they like burnt pizza, this pizza would be good even if it was charcoal.”
Chiron walked into the room unexpectedly.
“Ah, there you both are. I was wondering when I'd see you again. I trust Annabeth has given you a good enough tour.”
“She did.” You said in affirmation.
“Good. Well your belongings are all in the Hermes cabin waiting for you so off you go. And leave the rest of the pizza here. I haven't had it in months and I've missed it.” Annabeth dragged you out the door as you pulled down the sleeves of your new hoodie so they dangled down. She released your arm once you were outside and began to walk just across the path to a clearing full of cabins. You were startled as a blur collided with you, screeching with excitement. Maisie.
“You're alive!” She practically screamed in your ear and you laughed quietly.
“I am but if you keep being this loud I might not be for long.”
“I missed you. But I've made some new friends as well. Like Annabeth, we play hide and seek together and it's really fun!” You tapped her on the nose and crouched to look at her properly.
“Really now? What else has happened while I've been gone?” Maisie puffed out her chest proudly.
“I got claimed. By Dem-Dem-” She cut off unsurely.
“Demeter?” She nodded furiously.
“Yes! And big sister Rosie is teaching me to control plants.” She said the last part in a whisper. “I've got superpowers and it's awesome.” You smiled gently
“I'm sure it is and I can't wait to talk to you again Maisie but right now Annabeth and I are a bit busy.” You gave an exaggerated yawn and looked at your watch. “It is so late. Way past your bedtime missy so off you pop.” Maisie grinned toothily, planted a kiss on your cheek and sprinted off back to a cabin with a rooftop of grass. You looked over at Annabeth to see her smiling fondly before she shook herself out of it and stopped you in front of a different cabin.
“This is me. Cabin six.” She stepped into the doorway. “ Cabin eleven is over there.” She pointed across the clearing. “Since it's spring there's only two or three people staying there at the moment so you'll be able to grab a bed.” She hesitated for a second before giving you the briefest of hugs. “I think we’ll be good friends. You seem nice and Maisie has been singing your praises.” She flashed her white teeth at you in a small smile. “Night.” With that she disappeared from sight and you dawdled across the clearing, taking your time to get to the cabin and standing outside it for a good ten minutes.
Eventually you plucked up the courage and walked in. Immediately tripping on a loose floorboard and falling towards the floor, arms outstretched in front of you to try and break the fall when you hit the ground, bracing yourself for impact. But it never came.
Instead you felt a pair of warm hands wrapped around your waist, stopping you from falling. Pulling you away from the floor and turning you around as you tried to right your bearings.
“Hello.” A voice spoke, sounding amused.
Thank you.” You stammered, still slightly shocked as you stared down at the floor and shuffled your feet.
“Nothing to thank me for, I wasn't about to just let you faceplant. Funny as it might've been.” The person responded smoothly. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” You muttered, “Just a little embarrassed is all.” The boy laughed and you finally looked up. Your breath caught in your throat. It was the boy from that night. His curly hair messy and warm brown eyes sparkling as a small grin pulled at his lips.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He responded. “You must be Y/N. I'm Luke. Luke Castellan, it's a pleasure to meet you.”
All I know is we said, "Hello"
Your eyes look like comin' home
All I know is a simple name
And everything has changed
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan#percy jackson and the olympians#annabeth chase#young annabeth being cute#but I might be biased#taylor swift lyrics#luke castellan imagine#pjo tv show#pjotv x reader#pjo x reader
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JAMIE TARTT | comfort crowd, you can always count.
PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 5.5k
SUMMARY: reader gets cheated on and jamie, whose trying to be a better friend and person, decides to help her out by hiding her phone for the day.
WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, language
A/N: first time writing something full length but i hope you guys enjoy this! sorry for the length but feel free to give any comments! (also, pretend that jamie continued to see dr. sharon after she leaves the team like ted did) EDIT: changed the title which is now based on the song comfort crowd by conan gray :)
As a physical therapist for a football team, there could be a multitude of reasons why a coach would call you down during training. Maybe someone twisted their ankle or landed on their foot the wrong way. Maybe it was because they did that stupid red string drill again. You really didn’t want to explain all over again that treating that was not your area of expertise.
Luckily, everything seemed to be going smoothly as you walked onto the field and find the team doing their regular drills. All, except one player. You find Ted and Jamie in the middle of an argument — well, more of Ted joking around while Jamie was whining about something, the usual — and you approach them.
"Hi Coach, Jamie." You greet them, before asking Ted why he called for you. Without a verbal response, he surprises you by tossing an object to you. You swiftly catch it and dodge Jamie as he tries to reach out and grab it. You look down to see Jamie's phone.
You turn curiously to Ted who finally explains what is going on. "Our star player here," he rests his hand on Jamie’s shoulder, "managed to sneak his phone onto the pitch during training." At this point, poor Jamie is practically scowling.
You try and hide your amusement, though can't help but let out a small laugh. Even with how he was acting right now, he still looked cute. Objectively, of course. Everyone on the team knew you had a boyfriend back home, so none of them ever tried something. That didn't mean you couldn't admire the aesthetics of the players. Well, a player.
You started working at the club a little after Jamie went back to Man City, but everyone was pretty clear about their grievances with the guy, especially after the team got relegated. You vaguely remember Colin saying something about a jaundiced worm? So when he returned, you made sure to steer clear of him outside of your work obligations. Your feelings towards him were more apathy than anything else. But, once he started to get along with the team, that was basically your go signal to be nicer to him.
In truth, you probably knew more about Jamie than you needed to, given how often he visits the treatment room. Even if it was just a small cramp or ache, he would request a quick check-up or PT session to make sure he can still play. During those times, you would end up chatting with him and talking about whatever was going on in both of your lives. That's probably why Ted decided to give the phone to you since he knew that you were one of the only people Jamie wouldn't wrestle to get it back.
"Now, why don't you hold on to that and Jamie can swing by your office to get it after practice, yeah?" Ted instructs you and you're more than happy to oblige.
"Sure thing, Coach." You smile as you slide his phone into your back pocket. You turn to Jamie who now has a defeated look on his face. "See you later, Jamie."
"Yeah, yeah," He responded, as you leave to go back to the treatment room.
A few hours later, their training finished and the team was getting ready to go home. You contemplated going down and returning Jamie's phone yourself, but why make it easier for him? Since none of the players needed any treatment that day and all the records were backed up and updated, you spent most of the day aimlessly scrolling through your phone and the computer in the office.
You liked looking through social media to see what your friends and family were doing back home. It was hard being away from them for so long, but it was always a dream of yours to go abroad. When you got the offer to work for Richmond, you just couldn't pass it up. Luckily, the daily calls and messages from your parents, friends, and your boyfriend Matt, helped treat the homesickness a little bit. Though recently, Matt's were much more scattered. You didn't think much of it, assuming that he was just busy at work.
You were starting to pack up for the day when you hear a ping from your phone. You expect it to be a message from Matt checking in on you, but instead, see a message from one of your best friends. ‘Hey! Heard about you and Matt, I'm so sorry. I know you're busy with your new life in England, but I'm always here if you need to talk.’
Both confusion and anxiety fill you as you finish reading the text. Why would she be sorry? You send a quick ‘???’ before three dots appear on her end.
‘I'm at a party rn and I saw Matt with a new girl? He said you guys broke up ages ago.’
You feel your heart racing. There's no way he would do that. It's Matt, for Christ's sake! You've been together since college and your relationship has survived worse things than long distance. Your lack of response prompts your friend to send another message — ‘I'm so sorry this is how you found out’, — along with a picture this time. Your hands are trembling as you open it and you see Matt in the background making out with another girl.
That was enough to break the dam. You feel tears pooling in your eyes blurring your vision. You turn off your phone and just let the tears fall. It was already late, so there was less chance of someone walking in on you at such a low moment. Except, you forgot that you were still holding onto something.
Jamie, your most frequent visitor, didn't bother to knock and simply barged in. "Okay! Training’s over, it's time to return what's mine. Where are you keeping it hostage?" He greeted jokingly, which you couldn't even chuckle at.
You grabbed his phone from your desk drawer and reached out your hand for him to take it without even looking up. He accepts it gratefully and you swear you even hear him give it a kiss. He continued to celebrate before asking if you looked through it by any chance. You shake your head, more furiously than you intended, and hope that it was enough to get him to leave. But Jamie knew you better than you thought. Your slumped position and the fact you hadn't looked at him this whole time were good hints, but when he heard your quiet sniffles, he knew for sure.
"Fuck, are you crying?" You shake your head again, even more desperate for him to leave. Yes, you were comfortable around him, but having a breakdown in front of someone is at least a level 5 friendship type of thing.
You feel him spin the chair to make you face him. You still don't look up from your position, continuing to pick at your fingernails. He crouches down to your level and places his hands on your shoulders to try and comfort you. When you still don't look up at him, he finally asks, "What happened?"
"Just some stupid shit, Jamie. Don't worry." You respond shakily, as you try and wipe the tears from your eyes.
"It can't be that stupid if you're crying at work about it." You let out a weak laugh and finally look up at him. His features are much softer than usual, even giving you a smile as you face him. Not his usual cocky smirks he does when he scores a goal or when he jokingly flirts with you. A genuine smile, one that helped ease your sadness a little bit.
At this point, Jamie has already seen your puffy face that for sure has obvious tear streaks, — you always hate how red your face gets when you cry — so how much of a stretch would it be to just tell him what's going on? You reach back for your phone which still has your friend’s chat open and hand it to him.
It takes a few seconds before Jamie realizes what's going on. "Oh, fuck."
He returns the phone to your hands, but not a second later, he's already enveloping you in a hug. It's hard to ignore how this is the first time you've ever had physical contact with Jamie outside of your PT sessions and it's even harder to not feel embarrassed of the reason why.
"I'm so sorry," He whispers and you can't help but laugh as you remove yourself from him.
"Why are you saying sorry? It's not like you're the one who cheated on me. It's that dipshit over there in the photo." You emphasize the last word as you return your phone to the table. "I don't even know why I held on so long. I just hoped that we could make it, you know? We’ve been together for years!" You start, trying to hold back tears as you explain it to Jamie. "What makes it more shitty is that he didn't even have the balls to break it off with me first."
You sigh, "You know what, maybe it's me. Maybe I shouldn't have gone halfway across the world without him. If I didn't, then—"
"No, fuck that!" Jamie interrupts you as he stands up, his eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. "If anyone's at fault, it's him. You didn't do shit, so stop blaming yourself."
You can't help but be surprised at how passionate Jamie is about this, his tone reminding you of Roy. It must've shown on your face because Jamie takes a step back. "Sorry if I shouted,"
You laugh. "No, it's fine. You're right, fuck him." You get up from your chair and start collecting your stuff. Once you're ready to leave, you turn once again to the football player. "Thanks, by the way. See you tomorrow, Jamie."
As you make your way to the door, Jamie stops you. "Wait, how are you getting home?"
"Oh, I usually just walk." You respond, rubbing your nose.
"No way. Come on, I'm driving you." Jamie declares and before you can even protest, he's grabbed your hand and dragging you out of the treatment room.
"Jamie, I am perfectly capable of walking home." You remind him as the two of you make it to the parking lot. It is already dark out and definitely colder than you expected, but you remain unfazed. You didn't want to burden the football player anymore, but when had Jamie ever not been stubborn?
"I'm sure you are, but I've been working on being a good person, so who am I to let a girl walk home alone this late?" When Jamie opened the door of the passenger side for you and did a small bow, you rolled your eyes.
"You know, most good people don't say they're good people." You point out as you finally give in and sit in the car.
"I told you I'm working on it." He reminds you as he closes your door. You chuckled, as you make yourself comfortable. You knew that all the players including Jamie had expensive and extravagant cars, but you didn't realize how nice it was even in the interior.
You don't have enough time to admire the inside though, as Jamie gets into the driver's seat and starts the car. He instructs you to put on your seatbelt in his usual Mancunian accent which makes you laugh. The last time someone reminded you to put on your seatbelt was when your mom was visiting and you had to take a taxi back to your flat.
You input your address on his phone and finally leave the parking lot. The drive to your house was quiet, and you weren't sure if it was an awkward or comfortable silence. Maybe somewhere in between, given that Jamie didn't seem too bothered by it. It took around 10 minutes before either of you said anything since you spent that time looking through your phone.
You went through your friends' posts and notice a lot of them were at that party. In almost all of them, Matt was with that girl. You don't even recognize her, so if she was at that party, it meant that he brought her with him.
You decide to take your mind off it and finally asked something that has been on your mind since you left. "Jamie, why are you being so nice to me?"
You see him get ready to give his whole "trying to be a better person” speech and stop him. "I get you are trying to improve yourself, but you didn't have to offer to drive me home."
"Did you really want to walk home tonight?" He glances at you quickly, before turning back to the road. Truthfully, you didn't.
Despite having lived in London for a few months, it still took an abnormal amount of focus to navigate the town. Not to mention the care it takes to make sure you don't get hit by a car by looking at the wrong side. You were in no state to make it home by yourself.
Noticing your silence, Jamie took that as your answer. "Look, we're friends, yeah? As my friend, I wouldn't want to leave you roaming the city by yourself and not being sure if you'd get home safe." You smile but keep your head straight.
He adds, "Plus, you just got your heart broken. Part of me’s worried you'd just end up in a pub and fuck someone to get over him."
You turn to him shock and punch his shoulder. "Jamie, is that what you think of me? That I'd go and find the first guy willing to sleep with me and go home with him?"
"It's what I would do!" You roll your eyes. Sometimes, you forget that the old Jamie is still in there, the him that can be a total prick. Most of the time he only came out during games, but turns out there isn’t a definite on-and-off switch for it.
"Well, I'm not Jamie fucking Tartt. But you're right, I probably would've gotten lost and ended up in a bar." You finally admit and turn to look out the window and sigh.
Jamie must've sensed something and quickly apologizes. "Hey, I didn't actually mean that. I know you wouldn't find a one-night stand. I mean, to be honest, I haven't had one in a while either, so I don't know why—"
You cringe and urge him to stop. "Jamie, it's fine. I know you don't mean it like that." He relaxes and nods his head, causing you to let out a small laugh at how nervous he was to make you feel bad.
"But thank you," You say as he turns the corner to your flat. As he stops the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to him. "for you know, being a good friend."
You see the footballer give you a smile, a genuine one like before. Soon after though, he asks, "Could I get that in writing? I need proof for Dr. Sharon."
You roll your eyes as you get out. "Good night, Jamie."
You walk into the building and only hear the car leave once you close the door behind you. You go up to your flat and you've never been so happy to see your bed. You take off your shoes but don't even bother changing. You spend the next few hours scrolling through whatever posts you could find that have Matt in them.
—
It's been a few weeks since that night, but your habits are even worse than before. Checking Matt's posts, looking at what his friends are saying, even stalking his new girlfriend's account was basically part of your daily routine. She's fucking beautiful too, much to your dismay.
It's even starting to affect your work. If he hadn't shrieked in pain, you would've twisted Richard's foot off. All you were thinking about that session was the post you saw. It was a picture of Matt and the girl with the caption, ‘my favorite girl ;)’
You apologized profusely to Richard and check to make sure you didn't do too much damage. You spend the rest of the session thinking about something else. Anything else, like how nice the weather has been. How well the team's doing. How empty your bedroom wall looks now that you took off all the pictures with Matt. Fuck.
The next day, you head to the locker room to talk to Richard and to also see if anyone needs any treatment. You sit on the bench nearest to the door as you wait for the whole team. You quickly greet the players passing by you, but can't take your eyes off your phone. That is until someone rips it from your grasp.
"Hey!" You look up to see Jamie in some of his usual clothes. Dark tie-die hoodie, his 'ICON' hat, and the fanny pack where he puts your phone in. He ignores your protest and simply replied, "You're blocking my locker."
"Jamie, give it back!" You stand up and try and grab his bag, but he quickly takes it off and throws it to Ted, who had just walked out of his office. He catches it and turns to the two of you in surprise.
"You mind keeping that in your office, Coach? Need to keep this one," Jamie slings his arm on your shoulders, "away from it."
You try and plead with Ted, but he was already throwing it to Beard who shoved it in his desk drawer and locked it without question. You plop down on the bench in defeat, but not without glaring up at Jamie.
"Jamie, I will never forgive you for this." You say as seriously as you can, but it only makes him laugh.
"You'll get it back at the end of the day." He says as he moves to take off his hoodie. You leave him to get ready and head to Richard to give him some ointment for his ankle if it bloats (you can't help but notice him flinch when you come near), before heading to the treatment room to get your treatment bag. If you weren't going to have your phone this whole time, might as well find entertainment on the pitch.
You reach the pitch and settle down next to Will, who was setting up. You make small talk with the kitman as the team starts to make their way to the pitch for training. You watch Jamie pass by, who then turns around and stops in front of you. "What are you doing down here?"
"Do you really have to ask?”
"So you'll be here for all of training?" He asks, and you nod in response. "Okay then, enjoy the view." Jamie winks at you and you only roll your eyes, as he gives you a confident smirk before joining his teammates.
If he had done that a month ago, you wouldn't have batted an eye. It's just Jamie being Jamie, right? But after breaking up with Matt and how kind Jamie was that night, it's almost like his little habits have a new meaning.
Walking with you when you arrive at the same time, bringing you his extra pastries when he gets free muffins from the girl who runs the nearby bakery, and even what he did today. It pissed you off, yeah, but you had to admit that it was for the better. Can't be tempted to check Matt's page if you don't have anything to check it with, right?
But you shake it off. Jamie's just a friend, a really attractive, kind, and fun to be around friend. Even if you were starting to like him — which you weren't, — it didn't matter. Jamie didn't see you like that. He's just trying to be a better person and him helping you was just a way for him to do that.
You spend the rest of your morning watching training, either being entertained by their game or looking out for any of the players getting injured. It was pretty light drills given that they had a game soon. If you weren't doing that, you were listening to Will talking about what he planned on doing during the weekend. He even invited you to a nice jazz bar, which you kindly declined.
Once they were out for their lunch break, you leave your treatment bag there since you'd be back anyway for the afternoon training. You wave goodbye to Will before walking back inside the building. As some of the players pass by you, you compliment how well they're doing in training which is met by a chorus of thank you's.
You almost open the door to the treatment room, when you hear someone call out your name. You see Jamie jogging towards you. "How's the phone drought going?"
"Well, I would've used it to call my best friend who is halfway across the world and eat lunch with them, but as you know," you shrug, watching a hint of guilt grow on the football player’s face. "I'm kidding. What's up?"
"Do you wanna go out for lunch? Keeley said there's a nice Italian place down the road from here." He explained.
"Did she also say to post it on your socials?" You add and when he takes a second to answer, you both laugh. "Sure, sounds fun. Though, I'm not taking any pictures of you." Jamie exaggerates his disappointment, placing his hand on his chest and groaning as if he's just gotten shot.
Jamie puts on a sweatshirt to hide his kit — as if that's the only way people would recognize him — before the two of you head over to the restaurant. It was way too packed to get a table so you guys decide to order take-out and eat it at your office instead.
You guys make your way back to the building, talking about the most random things. Jamie mentioned how a fan had seen him at a restaurant and spent fifteen minutes explaining and analyzing how the footballer could've won Lust Conquers All. You mentioned how much you loved Vanilla ice cream because when your parents would buy the Neapolitan ice cream, — the 3-in-1 deal was hard to resist — it was the only flavor your brothers hadn't completely devoured by the time you got some.
It didn't stop when you made it back to the building and had your lunch. As always, Keeley knew the perfect places to endorse. The Carbonara pasta from the place was absolutely delicious and after trading some for Jamie's meal, the Chicken and Mushroom Risotto might even taste better.
You had taken a picture of the food before you started eating, but Jamie needed a picture of himself with the food for his post. Despite your statement earlier, you decide to take a picture for him anyway, for Keeley. As you took multiple shots, you started joking around to get him to make a genuine smile. Jokes ranged from ones about the sounds his teammates made during sessions and ones about the old celebration videos of Ted. You finally get a satisfying picture and call Jamie over. He leans over your shoulder and you feel the heat rising in your face.
"Looks good," He says before sitting back down in his chair. You return his phone to him and continue to eat your Carbonara before you hear a shutter sound. You look up to see Jamie taking pictures of you. You try and (fail to) cover the camera as it’s your turn to laugh at the jokes Jamie was making. "Here, some photos of you if you feel like posting. You look nice,"
You try and ignore the feeling you get after he said that. "Thanks, Jamie. You mind sending those to me when I get my phone back?" He chuckles and nods.
The two of you continue to spend the lunch together till you had to get back on the pitch. It was only while walking did you realize that you didn't think of Matt the entire lunch time. You don't know if Jamie had been doing it on purpose, but if he was, he was doing a great job at helping you forget him. Like a good friend.
The second half of training was even more relaxed than the first, so no emergency situations for you to deal with. Sam was getting cramps after training though, so you decided to have a session with him before leaving for the day. You wait outside till most of the players had changed to find Jamie.
You see him fastening his fanny pack as he leaves the locker room and you reach out to grab it. But he's quicker. "Nope, don't you have a PT session with Sam? Your day isn't over just yet." That said football player was still changing, so you still had some time.
"Aren't you heading home soon?" You continue to try and reach over Jamie's broad chest to take it but to no avail.
"I can wait. Look, Sam's ready." You turn around to see Sam in a nice collared shirt and his spare training shorts. He'd only brought jeans to change and it's pretty difficult to treat him in them, so you'd asked him to wear whatever shorts he had.
You give him a smile and lead him to the treatment room, not without giving Jamie a less-than-polite gesture. You hear him chuckle — “Guess you really want me to be a prick, huh?” — as you close the door behind you.
Sam said the cramps weren't too bad, but you still wanted to be thorough in case they came back later tonight. It took around 45 minutes, and Sam seemed much better afterward.
"Thank you so much," Sam said as he sat up from his position. "and sorry for holding you up, I know how much you want to go home before leaving for the game tomorrow."
"It's alright, Sam. It's my job to make sure you guys are fit and ready for all your matches. Good luck, yeah?" Sam thanks you again and hops down from the treatment table, grabbing his jacket and heading out. You stretch your back and relax before you hear the door open again.
You don't have to look up to know who it is. "Thank God, where's my phone, Tartt?"
Jamie lets out an exaggerated gasp. "We back to last-name basis now?" He tosses your phone to you, and you find multiple messages waiting. You decide to check them on the way home and slide your phone into your back pocket.
"I already sent the pics I took earlier, plus my own, in case you ever want to print it and hang it on your wall." You give up even rolling your eyes at him. You grab the bag that you fixed before the session and start heading out the door. Jamie appears at your side as you walk to the parking lot.
"Deja vu, huh?" You say as Jamie's car is the only one in the parking lot.
"Feel like going for a joyride?" He says as you turn to face him.
Your eyebrows knit together. "We’re going to be stuck on a bus for hours tomorrow. Don't you want to go home and rest or something?"
He checks his watch and shrugs. "We still got time." He leads you to the car, but this time you open the door for yourself and slide in.
You watch Jamie start the car without putting an address into his phone. As the two of you buckle your seatbelt and leave, you start to scroll through your texts.
Your unread messages were made up of your parents sending pictures from their spontaneous date, one of your brothers asking for a video message from Isaac for his son's birthday, and your friends trying to organize a trip to visit you.
You reply to as many of the messages as you can before you notice that Matt still hasn't sent you anything. No apology, explanation, or anything. You take a deep breath and finally unfollow him and the rest of his friends. You feel like a weight has been lifted off of you. You put the final nail in the coffin when you blocked his number. This is it, and you've never felt better.
You look up and realize that you don't recognize any of your surroundings. You turn to Jamie who is still unfazed by it, looking straight ahead.
"Jamie, if this good friend thing was all just some elaborate ruse to bring me to the middle of nowhere and murder me, you are obligated to tell me right now."
Jamie lets out a laugh. "Calm down, will you? We're here," You turn toward the dashboard and see some people walking on the sidewalk. At least there's still civilization here. He stops the car and parks it in front of this beautiful garden.
You get out of the car and walk towards the gate. Even with the dim lights, the place looks much more lively than the rest of the area. The entire garden is a mix of various flowers and plants, colors ranging from relaxing white and green to some brighter ones like violet and yellow. Jamie opens the gate for the both of you as you look around in awe. The two of you walk over to one of the benches in front of a small lake bordered by a fence. Despite its main purpose of making sure no one falls in, it doesn't seem out of place in the area.
"You know, if you were planning on murdering me, I wouldn't mind dying in a place like this." You turn to Jamie as you sit down. He gives you a small smile before settling next to you. "How'd you even find this place?"
Jamie hesitated for a minute, and you quickly add, "You don't have to tell me if it's too much." Jamie shakes his head and sighs.
"Back when I just got back to Richmond, I still had a lot of shit to make up for. Everyone still hated me, and I didn't really know what to do. I was pissed that they didn't want to give me a chance, so I tried to talk to Keeley about it. She brought me to Dr. Sharon." You knew that a lot of the players were seeing her when she worked here, but you didn't realize that even Jamie was seeing her.
"She knew I was trying, but said it didn't help that I'd get riled up during games and sometimes go back to my old habits like hogging the ball, so she told me to find something or someplace to relax before them. I drove around that night and just went around till I found this place. It was like a mini field of flowers like the ones in Amsterdam that my mom took me to when I was a kid."
"I go here every night before a game or before we leave for an away game and just sit here, looking at the lake and the flowers. It relaxes me, I guess." Jamie looks down and starts playing with his hands, and you see a version of the football player that you've never seen before. This Jamie is vulnerable, quiet, nervous even. He was sharing a part of himself and you’d be a massive prick if you made him feel bad about it.
You reach out and grab his hand and enclose it with both of yours. You keep your eyes on him as he looks up to meet them. You smile at him and hope it eases his nerves even just a little bit like he did for you back then. It does, as seen in how his shoulders relax afterward.
"Thanks for sharing this with me, Jamie. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone else and you can continue to keep this place all to yourself." You nudge him with your shoulder before standing up to look at the lake. It almost looked like the water was glowing, illuminating the fish swimming in it.
Jamie moves to stand next to you. You two are both quiet for a beat, before he interlaces your fingers again, "Maybe not all to myself." You turn to him and see his expression, a mix of his usual confident self but the vulnerability from a while ago. Without thinking, you lean in to kiss him.
If it caught him by surprise, he didn't show it. Jamie kisses you back, more enthusiastically than you expected. You let go of his hand and interlace your fingers behind his neck. His hands travel down to your waist and you feel him smile against you. Your back presses against the railing as he continues to deepen the kiss and holds you closer to him to steady you. Your senses kick in and finally pull away when you realize that you're in public.
"Shit Jamie, not here," You whisper, looking around to see if anyone caught you making out with AFC Richmond's star player.
"You wanna head back to your place?" That's what makes you push him away and he chuckles.
"Take me out on a few dates." You give him a quick kiss on the lips before walking back to the car. "Maybe I'll consider it then."
#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x reader#ted lasso#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt fic#jamie tartt fluff#ted lasso fanfic#jamie tartt fanfic
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THE TUTOR
pairing: virgin!eddie munson x virgin!reader. being the straight a+ student you are, you're asked to tutor the most difficult student at hawkins - Eddie Munson. word count: 3.6k. warnings: (18+) p in v, oral, fingering, body parts described, light cussing, probs misspellings.
“Y/n, come talk to me please,” Your teacher Mrs. Bennett asks, as you stand up from your desk. The bell had just rung, signaling that it was time to head to your next class. English was the class that just concluded, your favorite course for the semester. English came to you with ease, and you enjoyed to book you were reading so far.
You walk up to Mrs. Bennett’s desk. “You wanted to speak to me?”
Mrs. Bennett nods, taking her glasses off. “I’ve received another request for an English tutor to help… an older student.” You had been a peer tutor since your first year of high school, now entering your fourth year.
You cock your head to the side, “An older student?”
Mrs. Bennett nods, “Yes; Eddie Munson.”
Your mouth slacks open, “You want me to tutor Eddie Munson? Hasn’t that been proven to be impossible?” You had heard from the small group of peer tutors that Eddie Munson had been proved to be a challenge, either showing up to tutor sessions smelling of weed or not showing up at all.
Mrs. Bennett frowns, shaking her head. “Let’s be forgiving, y/n. Plus, all the students like you; your success rate is the highest of all the tutors. I thought you would be up for the…challenge.”
You re-adjust your attitude, “Of course, Mrs. Bennett.”
“Good,” Your teacher says, now smiling. “You should meet with him starting today, every day for the next couple of weeks. He really wants to graduate finally and a lot of his English grade rests on the final quiz.”
You nod, listening closely.
“-And here are the books his class is reading,” Mrs. Bennett says pushing a small stack of books towards you, “With tests quizzes to help further progress along.”
“Great, I’ll start today,” You say, “Thank you, Mrs. Bennett.”
Mrs. Bennett leans forward, “Goodluck, y/n.”
You back up from the desk, heading towards the door. On top of everything else you had going on; you didn’t need to be tutoring the Eddie Munson.
You enter the hallway, dodging students that are rushing to their next class. You make your way to your next class, which was just down the hallway, thinking about your plan to help Eddie pass his last English class. Eddie was 20, failing to graduate two or three times, and he barely has the patience to pay attention.
You make it to your next class, taking a deep breath in hopes to make it through the rest of the day. Which you did, your last two classes flying by quickly. Once your last class concludes, you made your way to the library in attempt to find out Eddie’s schedule and where to find him.
When you push the door to the library open, you see Eddie standing at the desk. You hear the desk attendant say, “That’s her there,” and point to you.
Eddie turns around, scanning you up and down. “Are you the poor soul who is going to attempt to help me pass my English class?”
You nod, “That would, sadly, be me.”
Eddie tucks his hands into his pockets, “The enthusiasm is overwhelming.”
You shift the books that Eddie’s class in reading in your arms and you place them on the table that is nearby. “So, shall we start?”
Eddie shrugs, coming over to the table and sorting through the pile of books you put down. You watch his nimble fingers, covered in big, metal rings, flip through the pages of the books, his shirt pulling up at the sleeves to reveal the tattoos of a cluster of black bats on his forearm.
You had always heard rumors about Eddie Munson and his club, that were mostly started by the basketball team, and you always found him mysterious. You never believed that he was a freak like they called him, or that he was a devil worshiper. You knew that he lived in a rough neighborhood, the trailer park off of the highway, and that his uncle was his guardian. You always thought that those facts could impact the way a person acted.
You are brought out of your thoughts when you notice Eddie waving his hand in front of your face. “Helloo, y/n?”
“Sorry,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Let’s start.”
Eddie eyes you suspiciously, but sits down in a chair, kicking his feet up on the table. You roll your eyes, sitting down as well. You flip through the book that Eddie’s class was reading, remembering when you read the book a year prior.
You begin your tutoring session, making connections between the reading and the discussion questions that were in the papers that Mrs. Bennett has given you. You feel Eddie’s eyes on you as he listens to you. You look over at him after a few minutes, “Are you even listening?”
Eddie kicks his feet of the table, leaning forward onto the table, his face only a few inches from yours. “I’m listening.”
You clench your jaw, backing up a few inches. You shake your head, starting to get frustrated, “Look, I’m not the one about to miss graduation for the third time. I’d suggest paying a little more attention.”
Eddie smiles, amused by your attitude. “It’s a little hard when a girl as pretty as you is talking.”
You roll your eyes, having heard about Eddie’s playful, flirty side. You had also heard that he was equally shy. “Eddie, seriously.”
Eddie laughs, “I am being serious.”
You ignore him, continuing on with summarizing the book, writing down short notes for Eddie to refer to and study. You continue on like this for the next hour, the hallway quieting down as everyone has gone home. You decided it was best to end the tutoring session, Eddie’s attention starting to fade away.
“See you tomorrow?” Eddie says, collecting the notes you had made for him. You nod, heading towards the library entrance. “Same time, same place.”
You pushed the door open, and head out of the library. The hallway was significantly cooler then the library and you felt your cheeks blush when you thought about Eddie’s compliment. You shook it off making your way home.
When you get home, your mom is waiting for you, bouncing your younger sibling on her hip. “Where have you been?”
“I had a tutoring session; sorry I’m home late.”
Your mother passed your baby sister to you as she stirred the pot that was boiling on the stove. “I just found out I have a meeting tomorrow at the same time you normally tutor so I need you to cancel so you can watch your sister.”
You roll your eyes, strapping your sister into her highchair. “I can’t just cancel, mom.”
Your mother sighs, looking over her shoulder at you. “I know you’ll figure just something out. Just be home right after school, okay?”
You nod, leaving the kitchen to head up to your room.
The next day of school went by quick, your mind occupied with solving your study location issue. After your fourth-class finishes, you step out into the hallway, joining the crowd of students. A few feet away, you see Eddie standing with his friends, seemingly his club members by their matching shirts, and you make your way towards them.
Dustin, one of the boys standing around Eddie, nudges Eddie to alert him of your presence. Eddie turns around to greet you. “Y/n,”
“Eddie,” you say, taking a peek at the couple of boys that stood behind him. They all stare at you with curiosity. “I need to switch where we’re meeting later. Can you come to my house instead of the library? I have to watch my sister for my mom.” Dustin’s mouth slacks slightly at the sound of you, a girl, inviting Eddie to your house.
Eddie nods, his eyes scanning your face. “Yeah, that works. What your address?”
You rattle off your address, starting to back away. “Come around 4,” you say, hoping your mom would be gone by then. You weren’t sure what she’d think about inviting a boy over when she wasn’t there, even if it was just for a tutor session.
The rest of the day blew by and before you knew it, you were standing in front of your mirror that stood on a stand next to your dresser. You toss your hair, leaning in close to inspect the lip gloss you just applied. You shake your head at yourself, catching yourself primping for Eddie. Downstair, you hear someone knock at the door. You glanced at your clock, seeing that it was half past four.
You jog down your stairs, hoping the knock didn’t wake up your infant sister who you had just put down for a nap. You open the door and Eddie is leaning in the doorway.
“Hey,” he says, stepping around you to enter your house. “Nice place.”
“Thanks, now be quiet, I just put my sister down for a nap.”
“Sorry,” He whispers, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder.
“Follow me,” you say, guiding Eddie up the stairs. You lead him into your room, shutting the door behind you quietly.
“So, this is the princesses’ room,” Eddie says, taking a look around your room. He seats himself on your bed, picking up your stuffed bear that rested near your pillow. Eddie smiles, making the bear waves it’s hand at you. You roll your eyes, sitting next to him on your bed. “Hand me your books,” you say, putting your hand out.
Eddie unzips his bag, pulling the books out. He hands them to you, your fingers brushing his. You pause as Eddie glances at you. Your faces are only a few inches apart, close enough to notice that his clothes smelled like cigarettes mixed with laundry detergent. Your breath hitches, and you cough to break the silence. Eddie blinks out of his trance, pulling out the notes you had made for him the day prior. “These were really helpful when I looked them over last night, thanks.”
You nod, “Good; of course.”
Again, another instance of silence occurred, and you glance at Eddie to see he’s looking at your freshly glossed lips. “Eddie, are you ready?” Eddie jumps slightly, turning his head to his laps where his notebook lays. “Yup, ready.”
You blush, wondering what Eddie was thinking while he looked at your lips. You begin to start your tutoring session for the next hour, Eddie actively paying attention. You felt like you and Eddie were making good strides and you felt confident enough to interrupt and initiate a snack break.
“Do you want water, soda?” You ask Eddie, standing up from your bed.
Eddie shrugs, “Whatever you have, I’ll have too.”
You nod, moving to leave your room. You take a trip downstairs, grabbing two soda cans from the fridge. You run back up the stairs, taking the stairs by two, and enter your room again. Eddie stands at your dresser, picking up the small picture frames of you and your friends at the beach. He notices you walk in and moves back to your bed. You walk over to where he sits, on the foot of your bed, and hand him a soda can. Again, your fingers brush Eddie’s.
You lift the tab, opening the drinking hole, and Eddie does the same. You take a sip, realizing how thirsty you are. Eddie leans back against your bed foot-frame, glancing at you. You lean back on your hands, creating extra distance between you and Eddie.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Eddie asks, boldly
You swallow your sip of soda hard, making eye contact with Eddie. “No; why do you ask?”
“Because you don’t have any photos of guys, it’s just you and your friends,” Eddie says simply.
You glance at your dresser full of picture frames, and then back to Eddie. “Yeah, no boyfriend.”
Eddie continues to stare at you, and you squirm under his attention.
You break the silence, “Do you have a girlfriend?” You feel foolish asking, but why couldn’t you ask too?
Eddie scoffs, turning his attention away from you. “Like anyone would date a freak.”
You frown, “That can’t be true. You’re a good-looking guy.” You blush when you realize what you’ve said. Eddie glances at you once again, a curious look on his face.
“You think so?” Eddie says, leaning forward, closing the gap between you and him. His face is only a few inches from yours, sending the scent of his cigarettes and laundry detergent back to you. He placed his can of soda on the ground, right on your white shag rug.
You nod, letting him invade your personal space. Suddenly, you feel the intense urge to let him truly invade your personal space, your attraction to him causing you to lean close to him. In an instant, your face was only an inch from his. You had very little experience with guys, and you assumed Eddie had no experience with girls, yet you felt confidence of an experienced women. You didn’t know where these feelings came from, but you wanted to explore them more.
You push your lips into Eddie’s, and in an instant he responds to your gesture. Your lips move roughly with his, Eddie’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You sigh at the feeling, your stomach forming a knot in anticipation. Eddie pushes you back, your back laying on your bed.
Eddie kicks his shoes off, climbing on top of you. You arrange your body in a way that allows him to nestle himself on top of you. Eddie cups your face with his ring covered hand, deepening the kiss. You feel his nerves showcasing themselves in his movements, each touch un-confident and inexperienced.
Eddie moves his hands down further from your face, never breaking contact with your lips, as he cups your breast over your shirt. Your body reacts intensely to his touch, your body craving him. You break the kiss with Eddie to lean up and lift your shirt up and off. Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of your bra-covered chest, and you lay back on your bed, letting your fingers play with the bottom of Eddie’s t-shirt.
Eddie gets the hint and lifts his shirt off. You reach out, cupping his face and guiding him into yours. You feel Eddie harden in his jeans as your almost bare chest presses against his. Your core aches for Eddie’s touch, every touch becoming more desperate.
Eddie feels hunger for you too, his mind in autopilot. His fingers toy with the band of your jeans, his nimble fingers moving to unzip your pants. You help him by wiggling out of your pants, leaving yourself in just your bra and underwear. You thank yourself for picking out your decent underwear, so you didn’t embarrass yourself.
You spread your legs open wider, Eddie settling himself between your thighs. Eddie moves a hand to let his hand grope you between your thighs. You moan softly, sending Eddie into a tizzy. Eddie pulls his big, chunky rings off, letting them drop to the floor. He pulls your panties to the side, letting his fingers plunge into you.
You gasp, your hands clutching your sheets. Eddie breaks the kiss, your mouth agape as you breathe heavily. He peppers your neck in kisses, letting them trail to your chest and between your breasts. Eddie’s fingers move out of you in a rhythm, pressure beginning to build in your abdomen. Your hips jut up, expressing how you were experiencing pleasure from Eddie’s touch.
You feel the urge to taunt Eddie, drawing him in to pull his pants off and pleasure you. You lean up again, un-clipping your bra. Your breasts fall out and Eddie is quick to move his kisses on your nipple. Eddie, takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue across your bud. You place your hand into Eddie’s long, curly hair, pulling him further onto your chest. Eddie feels your desperation radiating off your skin, laced in every movement you make. He pulls away from you, standing up next to the bed to unzip his pants, leaving him in his boxers.
You bite your lip at the sight of Eddie’s tent in his black boxers, and you forget that you’re essentially naked in front of a boy for the first time. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, kneeling below you. You part your legs to allow for more space on the bed. He kneels, moving your legs so they rest on his shoulders. He hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs slowly while he makes eye-contact with you. He flicks your panties to the ground, leaving you completely naked.
Eddie gazes at you for a moment, taking in the beautiful sight of your naked body. He moves to hover over your body, aligning himself with you again. His face dips down, his lips meeting yours once again, and you take the opportunity to hook your fingers into his boxers, pushing them down his thighs. He helps you, kicking them off, letting them fall to the floor. Eddie trails kisses from your lips to your neck and you take the initiative to look at Eddie’s cock. Your stomach clenches at the sight of it, its large size intimidating you.
Eddie, nuzzles his face into your neck, leaning on his arm. “Can I?”
You nod, spreading your legs open to let him in. Eddie lines himself up with you and you take a deep breath. With one swift push, Eddie enters you, his size demanding your sex to adjust to fit his size. You grab on to his bicep, squeezing it roughly as you react to the slight feeling of pain.
Eddie starts out with slow thrusts, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you. You moan softly, your eyes fluttering shut. Eddie sighs too, the feeling of you clenched around him sending shivers up his arms and down his torse.
“Fuck, Eddie.” You say, your back arching. Your nipples graze his chest, and Eddie takes notice. His pace quickens, his movements a little rougher.
Your fingertips graze his sides, his warm skin feeling hot against your cold, exposed skin. Eddie initiates another kiss with you, and you lean into it. Eddie’s strokes continue, sending pleasure up your body. Your head was spinning with thoughts but all you could think about is how your body fit perfectly with Eddie’s.
“You feel so good, y/n,” Eddie mutters against your lips.
Your skin flushes at Eddie’s comment, your thighs clenching around his waist. Eddie’s movements weren’t enough for you, your body craving more. You maneuver your foot between his and use it as leverage to move yourself on top of Eddie. Now, Eddie lays on his back, his face expressing shock from the whirlwind you sent him in. You sink down on the length of his cock and his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure.
You begin to rock back and forth, like you had seen in the movies, and knew you were doing it right by the way Eddie reacted to your movements. You grasp Eddie’s hands, moving them to your waist. Eddie’s grasp tightens around your hip bones, helping you set the tempo.
Eddie moans loudly, one of his hands moving to your backside. Eddie sits up, colliding his lips with yours. “I’m close,” Eddie says, between kisses.
You sigh, wishing the moment could go on forever. You lean back, creating inches of distance between you and Eddie. You let your fingertips graze his cheek, taking in his features. He was truly a beautiful person.
You push him back, moving from your position on his cock. Eddie frowns, missing the feeling of you clenched around him. You back up, taking his length into your hand. Eddie shivers under your touch, watching you take his member into your mouth. His fingers intertwine in your hair, pushing you down further. You bob your head, discovering your love the action of giving head.
Quicker than you wished, Eddie comes in the back of your throat, his hip jutting up to push his entire self down your throat. Now, you missed the feeling of him moving in and out of you, your mind full of filthy things you wanted to try.
You stand up, feeling awkward and exposed all of a sudden. You pick your panties off the ground, stepping into them, and put your t-shirt on over your head, leaving your bra on the floor. You toss Eddie’s underwear to him, and he catches them, his eyes lingering on you.
“So..” Eddie says, sitting up and swinging his legs to the side of your bed.
You look up at him, a small smile on your lips, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t know what to say, not knowing how the moment got so out of hand. You were studying, drinking soda, and then before you knew it you were naked, Eddie deep inside of you.
“We should probably continue studying tomorrow.” You say, leaning against your dresser.
Eddie frowns, cocking his head at you. Your mind is in a flutter, your eyes gazing at Eddie’s barely clothed body. “You’re really going to graze over what just happened?”
Your eyes shift, going from Eddie’s eyes to the floor. “I don’t really know what happened, honestly.”
Eddie laughs, once again amused by you. “I think we should do it again; after I take you out on a date of course.”
Your eyes snap to his, your eyebrows raised. “A date?”
Eddie shrugs, picking his rings off the floor. “Would you be interested?”
You didn’t even have to think about it. You were intrigued by Eddie, his mysterious and complex persona pulling you in. You also didn’t mind that he had just performed perfectly in bed.
“I’d love to.”
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x you#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson stranger things#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you
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Thinking about the scenario where secret agent reader (so like CIA or MI6 and things like that) meets Gaz at a bar and scores. Drinks and talking and dancing, until Gaz suggests you go back to his place. Once there, before things get steamy, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready, but it's actually to stash away your hidden weapons you carry with yourself all the time. Only, when you figure out a good spot, you already find weapons there already.
And it clicks. How he gets dodgy when work comes up, how his dance moves vaguely resemble basic fighting regiments, etc... Seems theres more to the man than just his charm.
THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD IDEA! thank you so much for submitting, I had so much fun thinking abt this funny scenario. also fr peep the side eye because that's how he'd be looking at you during the reveal HAHA
the intertwining of secret lives
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summary: When you meet a handsome 20-something in the club, you look through your rose colored glasses and ignore his eccentricities. However, when it comes time to hide a few of your necessities, you are absolutely blindsided.
pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons/violence
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Two men by the door, performing a sweep across the dance floor in opposing schedules. They're standing in front of the primary exit with another guard standing at the emergency exit. The solo guard appears 5'10-5'11, weighing around 200lbs and the bruised knuckles means he's accustomed to rowdy customers and bar fights. Based on his wide stance, I could probably sweep at his leg befor- "Hey, want to take this back to mine?" Kyle's voice whispered in your ear, interrupting your covert surveillance. You blinked a few times as you took in his offering. It was difficult for you to shut off your years of CIA training and actually relax for once. Even now, you were slightly suspicious of this unemployed and handsome 20-something who was holding you by the waist at the bar. Yet since he locked eyes with you in the crowded room, it was clear the tension was palpable. Before he could ask again, you put a hand on his.
"Is it close or do you plan on carrying me, Kyle?" you winked, and even under the dim lights, you could see his cheeks slightly heat up. As he tried to stifle down the remainder of his drink, you decided to interrogate him a bit more before he took you to his. "Your silence is telling me, you haven't been to the gym in a while," you teased as you eyed his fit figure, "you look like you're more of a cardio man anyways." He shook his head at your not-so-subtle observations, having an endearing chuckle at the comment. "Well you did say my dancing looked like some silly American MMA thing," you giggled as he said that. It was just a sarcastic comment you made as you saw him methodically make his way across the dance floor, dodging the various drinks and drunken moves of the other patrons. "Anyways," he continued, downing his drink, "you might have just revealed my love for some combat training." With that, he gave you a wink and you melted in your seat. You found yourself endeared by his subtle jokes and shining smile. It made you push aside all the stress of work and effortlessly lie through your teeth about your hidden life.
After you closed your tab, Kyle held the door for you and ushered you politely out of the loud club. He walked beside you, hand in pockets and a relaxed smile on his face, as he navigated through the streets. You made small talk about some of the wild moments from the club and the fact you had both spent a fortune on drinks and shots. "Glad I saved up for this vacation," you lied, continuing with your story of an American tourist in London, "the 9-5 was all worth it for some strong drinks and a pretty face." In the cold night air, you could see his face become illuminated with the street light and the way his cheeks curved up in a hearty laugh. "You Americans and your toxic work culture," he chided as he bumped you with his elbow, "hopefully I can show you how to take it slow tonight." You blushed profusely at the comment and bit your lip as Kyle took a turn to a row of flats.
"This one's mine," he whispered and fumbled to find his keys. You stood there idly as you looked down at the street. It seemed quiet, nothing, particularly of notice. In fact, if you were looking for a safe house this would be ideal as it was perfectly tucked in between mundane families. "Home sweet home," he presented and you walked into the furnished flat. You peeked around and noticed the lack of personality within the home besides some paintings and postcards. A thin layer of dust lay amongst everything and the house smelled distinctly of a wall plug-in, probably bought this morning. He noticed your gaze and shrugged slightly. "I haven't had time to make this place nice," he sheepishly confessed, "been helping out with my family for the last few weeks." You nodded before you walked closer to him. "So what do you want to do now that I'm here?" you flirted before you closed the gap with a soft placement of your lips on his.
You felt a mix of happiness and uncertainty in your stomach. To the special agent inside you, it was the sign things were going a bit too well. But to the normal person, it was the presence of butterflies in your stomach. He tasted of a mix of alcohols and smelled vaguely of wood and santal. He wrapped his strong arms around you as you shuffled backward to the bedroom. You could feel him lower you softly onto the bed before you pulled him a bit closer with your arms around his neck. As he pulled up to look at you in this vulnerable state, you realized you were being poked by an object. Your mind went to a certain place for a moment until you realized it was actually the knife strapped to your thigh that was poking you. Your face dropped when you realized where things were going. You hastily pushed Kyle off of you before running off unceremoniously to the bathroom. "Sorry just have to pee! Those drinks are running through me," you joked through the door as you navigated to the master bathroom across the room.
"Take your time," you could hear him echo through the door as you put down the toilet seat. You looked around the small bathroom and tried to figure out where to hide the knife. More like knives, you thought when you realized you had another two strapped to your boot. "Oh fuck me," you whispered as you tried to look around. Within the bathroom, there was a small medicine cabinet with a mirror and a few drawers underneath the sink. You flushed the toilet hurriedly and ran the sink as you opened up the bottom drawer ever so carefully. When you opened it, you were not expecting to see another collection of tactical knives and a gun facing back at you. You tried to stifle your surprise as you gently picked up the firearm. You turned it to see it was inscribed with PROPERTY OF THE ROYAL ARMY etched into the side. You placed it down gently as underneath it lay an official-looking ID. You read the details quickly as you focused on the serious face of one Sergeant Kyle Garrick. You looked at the picture resembling the man in the next room, verifying all of the signature markings of an official government ID. "You alright in there?" you could hear his question as you quickly shut the drawer. You hastily turned off the tap before returning to the bedroom.
Kyle was lying casually on the bed and you could tell he had generously sprayed some vanilla room spray to cover up the mustiness of the unattended flat. Explains the dust and lack of furnishings, you thought as you stood leaning against the doorway. "Find anything interesting?" he flatly asked and you couldn't help but be caught off guard for the first time this evening. "What do you mean?" you bluffed but he stopped you with a flick of his hand. "The sink was running for a bit too long," he joked, "plus I know what those drawers sound like when they slam." You let out a dry laugh before sitting back next to him. "Well, I guess I should say I did find something," you said as you looked at his eyes, mixed with uncertainty, "you really should keep your weapons in a better location." As he tried to come up with a myriad of excuses, you put a hand on your chest. "As long as you don't mind if I put mine away, I won't question it, Sergeant," with that, Kyle tried to hide his surprise as you unsheathed your weapons from your person. "Do I want to know?" he joked hesitantly before you made your way on top of him. "You can ask in the morning, Garrick."
The next morning, you raced over to your hotel and barely made it to your 9 am meeting in the office suite. "Wonder who Laswell has me working with now," you mumbled as you nodded to the agents guarding the secured room. You should have seen the look on your face when you locked eyes with Kyle, who sat equally as shocked and secretly sporting a hickey underneath his uniform collar.
#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#cod x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#modern warfare 2#call of duty#mw2 imagine#madebyizzie#gaz imagine#kyle garrick imagine#mw2#izzie is writing
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Broken hearts - Chapter 1
Summary: Ran Haitani did the worst shit of his life by cheating on his wife Y/n, but she forgave him and everything was fine now... right?
Pairing: Ran Haitani X Wife!Reader | Kakucho Hitto X Reader
Word count: 1.479 | Masterlist
A/n: Hope you like this! Comment what you think, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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Ran doesn't really know what he's feeling in this situation, he's sure he just saw Kakuchu giving his wife a kiss, but... would he do something like that? What is he thinking, of course he would do.
Ran is a shit, he knows that, but he was sure of it when his wife found out about his cheating.
Y/n was the light of his life, his ray of sunshine, I know a reason to smile and live, and this was the worst mistake he ever made in his entire life, he is aware of that.
This was probably one of the happiest days of his life but... What was this feeling he was feeling now?
They talked, she cried and hit him, but after a long time of trying and trying, Ran got her second chance.
Ran was almost sure he saw Kakucho speak close to his wife's ear, he was almost sure he saw her blush, was that right?
Yes, he was a little drunk and they were in a crowded club, but he didn't think his eyes would deceive him that much.
"Ran, are you deaf or something?" He wakes up with Sanzu screaming in his ears.
"What?" Ran says looking back at his letters.
"It's your turn Ran." Rindou says staring at his older brother.
"Yeah, I actually don't know if I want to continue this match."
"Haitani already given up?" He hears a voice behind him and feels his stomach drop or realize it was Kakucho's voice.
"And where were you Heartthrob?" Sanzu asks taking his pills out of his pocket.
Kakucho smiles passionately, as if she's remembering where she was just a few seconds ago.
"Bastard"
"And you're still seeing that girl Ran?" Kokonoi asks with a mischievous smile on her face.
"Who? My wife?"
"You know better, one of the girls from Sanzu's clubs." Ran looks at him in surprise.
"You know better, stop saying that shit before she hears it and thinks I'm seeing someone else." Ran says seriously.
"Oh please Ran, we all know you can't keep your dick in your pants." Sanzu says laughing.
"Shut the fuck up, she's already suffered enough for this shit." Ran speaks and hears Kakucho laugh softly next to her.
"I think Y/n is a much stronger woman than you imagine Haitani." Kakucho speaks and sits across from Ran.
"Do you suddenly know my wife well?" Ran asks feeling her blood boil.
"Maybe you don't know her very much."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Ran asks, already getting up.
"Calm down hothead, I'm sure Kakucho is just trying to say that it was so stupid of you to exchange the cure for the disease." Kokonoi making everyone at the table laugh.
"Because you guys don't mind your own fucking business." Ran says throwing the cards and leaving there.
Rindou chases after his brother, dodging people he has no idea who they are.
After spending a few minutes looking for Ran, he finds his brother near the toilets with his head resting on the wall and his eyes closed.
"Hey, what happened? What's got you so riled up?"
Ran opens his eyes when he hears his brother's voice and rubs his hands over his face.
"I think... I think Y/n and Kakucho are having an affair."
"Are you saying that because of what he said at the table?"
"I think I saw the two of them kissing." Ran says this, feeling his voice tremble a little.
Rindou's eyes widen when he hears this, he's surprised but at the same time he's not, it's been many months since Ran was "mistreating" his wife.
"Well are you... sad about it?" Rindou asks, trying to read his brother's expression.
"Of course I am, she's my wife brother, how could that not destroy me?" Ran asks, looking incredulously at Rindou, who shrugs.
"You were seeing another woman Ran."
"But I'm not anymore, Rindou I love Y/n with all my heart, we've resolved this and everything I'm doing in my life is for her." Hearing this, Rindou mocks his brother.
Ran was very clever sometimes, but he was also dumber than ever.
"Do you think it's easy to forget a betrayal?" Hearing this, Ran clenches his fists and leaves in search of his wife.
Now, all he wanted was to find his wife and get out of there as quickly as possible.
When he finds her, she's drinking and laughing with some other women.
"Baby, let's go." He says, looking seriously at his wife, who stops smiling when she sees Ran approaching.
"Right, bye girls." Y/n picks up her coat from the chair and walks straight past Ran towards the car without waiting for him.
If he was Kakucho, would she wait? No, not Ran, she's your wife, not his.
Ran turns and walks quickly to catch up with his wife.
"Hey doll, I almost didn't see you today." Sanzu says, stopping in front of Y/n and hugging her.
Y/n just smiles and hugs Sanzu too, and when Ran looks away, he notices Kakucho gazing lovingly at his wife still hugging Sanzu.
"Holy shit, I'm going to kill this guy."
"Come on honey, let go of her, you fucking addict." Ran says, pulling Sanzu out of Y/n's arms and taking her hand lovingly.
"I know the way Ran." She says, letting go of Ran's hand and continuing to walk on her own.
Now that they were both in the car, all Ran wanted was to hear something from his wife, even if it was her swearing at him, anything.
"Was your week good, dear?" Ran says, looking at her.
"Yes, Ran, I'm tired." Y/n says cheekily.
"Well, thanks for coming with me even though you're tired."
"No problem, I missed some of them too." Y/n smiles and Ran grips the steering wheel.
Did she mean Kakucho?
At that moment Ran feels like he could beat someone up, and even that wouldn't be enough to get all the sadness and anger out of him.
Y/n feels his cell phone turn over and smiles when he sees a message from Kakucho.
"I know I've already told you this, but you looked so beautiful, have a good night princess."
"I got to see you, so obviously I'll have a good night."
Back at the club, Kakucho smiles like a teenager in love when he reads Y/n's message.
"Are you in love?" Kokonoi says, smiling and pulling Kakucho out of his enchanted little world.
"Maybe I am, is there a problem?"
"Maybe if she's already married."
Kakucho looks surprised at Kokonoi, who is still smiling.
"I just want to make her happy." He says softly and Kokonoi laughs out loud.
"I know that, she's a great girl and if Haitani was foolish not to realize that, then fuck him."
Kakucho remains silent and Kokonoi continues talking.
"What if he hits her?" Kakucho feels his heart race at the thought of that possibility.
"If he touches a single strand of her hair, I'll kill him without fear."
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Series Masterlist
Chapter 18
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; male on female violence; allusions to female on male violence; threats of physical abuse; threats of SA; blood and injury
A/N: If you see grammatical errors, no you don’t. Please. I’m too tired to proofread tonight. I’ll fix tomorrow. 🩵
“Slow movements. Don’t wanna spook it.” You could feel his hot breath against your ear, making it difficult to focus on the buck a few yards away. The crossbow was heavier than your gun but Daryl insisted you’d take to it just as easily. “Take a breath.” You inhaled, deeply and quietly, and exhaled just the same. “Squeeze the trigger. Take the shot.”
There was little kickback but you held the weapon steady so as not to alter the bolt’s trajectory, watching the blurry figure of the deer crumble.
“Yes!” You exclaimed, lowering the crossbow and turning to beam at the archer. You just didn’t expect him to still be so close. Your nose bumped against his, but he didn’t pull away.
“Good job.” He praised, his voice quiet, his eyes on your mouth.
“You’re a great teacher.” Your head tilted of its own volition, breath mingling with his. You began to close the small space between you when something caught your eye. “Oh my god, Daryl. You’re bleeding!” You let the weapon fall in favor of pressing your palms against a hole in the bowman’s left shoulder. His breaths were coming quicker, face suddenly sweaty and pale.
The world appeared to turn around you, and though neither of you had moved, you were bowed over him then, maintaining constant pressure. Weapons were firing around you, screams echoing from all sides.
“What’s happening?”
“Run, Y/N.” Daryl rasped, pushing away your hands only for you to replace them over the wound. “Run.”
“I’m not leaving you!” You yelled. Your cheeks were damp but you couldn’t remember when you had started to cry.
“Ya have to. Now, go!” He snapped.
“No!” Something zipped past your head, so closely that it disturbed your hair. There was a dull thud of a bullet tearing into flesh behind you. “If we can get you up, we can make a break for it.” Looking around frantically, you realized with abject horror that none of the people fighting had faces. Just blurred, blank skin. “What the hell?” You came to realize next, that Daryl had quieted and stilled below you. Uttering his name as you lowered your gaze, you were met with the milky yellow eyes of a walker. Daryl.
His mouth opened suddenly, coming at you too fast for you to dodge. You did the only thing you could.
You screamed.
“Shut her up!”
Your eyes snapped open as you felt pressure leaving your throat, your body tumbling from somewhere to land on a cold floor in a crumpled heap. Coughing harshly, you blinked several times and looked around. An empty room, concrete floor and walls. No windows. The lighting was a pale red, making it nearly impossible to identify the man standing over you.
Oh, right.
Todd was trembling, likely with rage. You had managed a few solid punches and a deep, gouging bite to his hand before he’d been able to subdue you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Daryl would be proud.
If he was even still alive.
“Your little boy toy ruined the good thing we had going.” Jazz was pacing slowly in front of the door, the epitome of perfect calm. “Blood, sweat, and tears went into that club. A lot of sweat and even more blood.” He chuckled, strolling over to where you were levering yourself into a sitting position, crouching in front of you. You sneered at him when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s gonna take some time to rebuild my club, and it’s gonna need to be your blood and sweat and tears this time.”
You filled your mouth with saliva, curling your lip before spitting into his eye. “You‘ve already taken enough from me.” Jazz smiled and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket to dab at his eye. Your head jerked to the side, blood spraying from your mouth with the force of the back of his hand meeting your jaw.
“That’s the thing about whores like you.” His tone was so calm that it made you nauseous, the feel of his fingertips on your chin guiding your head back toward him only intensifying the discomfort. “You always have more to give. And give, you will.”
“Now, Jazz. Is that any way to treat a guest?” An unfamiliar voice sounded from the doorway, distracting the former club owner enough for you to jerk your head free of his hold. “Come on away from her.”
You pressed yourself closer to the wall, wary of the new presence. Jazz reluctantly stood and stepped back to allow the man room to approach. Kneeling down to your level, he studied you in a way that made your teeth itch. He held out a hand, Todd stepping forward to place his own handkerchief onto the awaiting palm.
“Word has it you’ve been spending time with the community holed up in that prison.” He stated, leaning to wipe away the blood on your lip and the bullet graze on your cheek with strokes that were too gentle. You offered him no answer, your chin quivering as you tipped it upward defiantly. “Not one for talking, I see.” He draped an arm over his knee and let the piece of fabric dangle between his fingertips.
“She was promised a dental procedure. I’m sure we can get her to talk, tell us the weaknesses.” Jazz leered at you.
“You’ll do no such thing.” The other man snapped, his eyes never leaving you. There was something about him. Something that made you fear him more than Todd, more than Jazz.
“Who are you?” You asked, your voice quivering, your head pressing against the wall when he reached for you. A whimper was stifled as his hand began to stroke your hair, your jaw, your collarbone.
“My name is Philip,” he grinned, the eyepatch over his right eye shifting slightly, “but most people call me the Governor.”
He was barely on his feet by the time he tumbled out of the tombs and onto the debris at the back of the prison. His pulse was throbbing in his shoulder, his shirt heavy and damp with blood from pulled stitches. He’d have to check them and change the bandage but it’d need to wait for him to catch his breath. His limbs were still uncoordinated, but the fog in his head was clearing. He’d managed to fight his way out, mostly out maneuvering the dead and only putting them down when he had no other option. He was too weak to take on them all, too out of it.
If he was going to get to you, he had to be smart.
Smart. He laughed wryly and struggled to a sitting position, using his good arm to keep himself upright. Nothing about what he was doing was smart. Smart would not be setting out alone while injured, much less at night. Daryl didn’t care about being smart, he cared about you.
Where were you? What were they doing to you? Were you hurt?
He had to grit his teeth against the pain when he’d gathered enough energy to get to his feet. The groans and snarls echoing from inside were getting too close and he was moving too slowly to wait any longer.
Climbing down the crumbled bricks and concrete was challenging but not impossible. He did pretty well, all things considered. The fence was open, gaping wide from whatever had blasted through before the group had settled. It was a way out for him, but a way in for the walkers. Another group he’d be forced to skirt around. He wished it was as simple as lathering up in guts and shuffling his way through. He inwardly groaned. Not an option with his wound.
“Christ.” He whispered, dodging and ducking. By the time he made it through the fence and behind a tree, he was sweating. His injury throbbed, nearly doubling him over. Daryl leaned his good shoulder against the rough bark, letting it take most of his weight, and closed his eyes.
“I have to go or he’ll kill you.” Your eyes were wet and shining, begging him to understand. He pleaded with you until he just couldn’t anymore, your tears spreading across his knuckles before you pressed your lips there instead. “Thank you, Daryl.” He couldn’t get his tongue to cooperate and settled on shaking his head, even as those same lips left his hand and met his cheek. “Goodbye.”
He couldn’t stop his voice once you pulled away, walking through the gates without looking back.
Daryl forced his eyes open and pushed away from the tree. He’d walk until he couldn’t. He’d search the roads for tracks. If he was lucky, his disappearance would bring the others. They would know that to find him, they would need to find you. If they got to you first, great. Getting you back was all that mattered. Keeping you safe.
If he became a casualty in achieving that goal, he was okay with that.
Heels traipsed loudly against the concrete, the resounding click clack giving you the urge to cover your ears. If you ever wore a pair of heels again, it would be much too soon.
Hushed voices spoke outside your door, the metal thick and hindering any hope of hearing the conversation. It wasn’t Jazz or Todd. Philip— the Governor —had ordered them away from you, slapping Jazz’s face when he disagreed. That had been a joy to witness.
You suppressed the natural urge to flinch when the door swung open to present a long-legged blonde. Her clothing was similar to the skimpy outfits you had been made to wear, sparkling under the red light. Definitely one of Jazz’s girls.
“My name’s Millie.” She said dismissively as the door closed behind her. It was clear she didn’t want to be there, looking for all the world like she had better things to do. “Boss said to bring you something to eat.” The tray in her hands was lifted slightly to draw your attention to it. Your eyes narrowed. You made no move to accept the offering. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she placed the tray on the floor and used her foot to slide it toward you. “Don’t see why you get to eat the same thing he does anyway. What makes you so special?” Millie hissed.
The plate was piled high with meat, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a little slice of some sort of cake on a separate plate. A bottle of water was on its side, unopened. Your expression didn’t change. “Tell Jazz I don’t want it.” Using the tips of your toes, you pushed it back.
Millie scoffed. “Jazz didn’t send it. If it were up to him, you’d starve. Rightfully so for fucking some redneck trash after he burned down the one good thing we—”
“Watch it.” You warned, shifting forward as if you were about to get up. The blonde took two steps back.
“The Governor sent the food. Eat or don’t. I don’t give a shit.” She spat, heading to the door with her fist raised to alert the guard.
“You don’t have to stay here.” You returned to your previous position, pulling up your knees to wrap your arms around them. “I got out. You can too.”
“Are you stupid? You know what’s out there.” Millie replied, not turning around. You had never seen her before but you didn’t see much of anyone at the old club. You’d be let out on the floor only on occasion. Other girls had been sent in to tend to your wounds after a beating but you could never remember their faces, their voices distorted in your pain induced haze.
“Yeah, I know what’s out there. There’s a lot of bad stuff. Terrifying, actually.” Resting your chin on your knees, you summoned images of Beth carrying Judith, Maggie smiling up at Glenn in the watchtower, Rick teasing the man when they changed shifts. You could see Carol smiling in that gentle way that just made everything feel alright.
And then you saw Daryl. When he offered you berries, bowing his head so you wouldn’t be afraid. When he smirked at you the first time you fired the gun. When he watched over you from a distance while you practiced. You could remember the warmth of his arms when you clung to him after the run. The comforting smell of smoke and leather.
You released a shaky breath and wiped away a stray tear, sniffling quietly. “Not everything out there is dark and scary. There’s good too. It makes all the terrible things worth it.” Blinking away more tears, your eyes flitted up to Millie, watching you with an expression that could only be described as yearning.
“I’ll, uh, just have to take your word for it.” She finally whispered, tapping on the door. “You should really eat.”
And then she was gone and you were alone again with only the memories you were holding onto for comfort. You’d forgotten so much of your life before the club. The fear of losing what you had found after was devastating. You had to make it out of there or die trying. You couldn’t fathom the possibility of being so lost inside your own mind again, so submissive to the twisted needs of any other person.
Maybe you couldn’t find your way back to the prison. In fact, you had no idea which way to go even if you did escape, but fuck that. You’d take your chances. You’d give it your all to make it back to them. Because maybe you could.
If Daryl was alive, you would give everything to see him again.
By late afternoon, Daryl’s head was swimming. He had patched up his shoulder with steri strips. Not the best option for a bullet wound, but they would hold it closed and were easily replaceable should one tear loose. He had emptied the canteen but hadn’t come across any water to refill it just yet. His stomach rumbled with hunger, but that would need to wait. He could find a squirrel or a rabbit before searching out a place to crash for a while. Maybe he’d come across some of the berries you loved so much, could pack some away to give to you when he found you.
He had made his way toward the road, careful to stay out of sight while watching for any sign of tire tracks or other indicators of activity that could lead him to the club. He shoved down the pessimism that screamed he’d never find you and pressed on.
The others had to know he was gone by now. He could almost envision Carol’s furious expression upon finding the cell empty. And how could he even begin to blame her? He was a survivalist. He knew how to take care of himself, what to pack, what not to pack. This? This wasn’t him at all. He’d run away like a child sneaking out their window, sacrificing sufficient planning in fear he’d be busted before he could make it away from his mattress. He had been reckless, impulsive.
For you.
Fuck, he was in deep.
He didn’t know how to navigate these emotions. He’d never allowed anyone that close. Somehow, he felt that there were no missed opportunities, that you were the first. It terrified him to depths of his soul to acknowledge that he would be completely content to let you be the last. The only.
Daryl was likely headed down a path that would end in nothing good. That had been the story of his life. You probably didn’t feel the same way about him, and he couldn’t blame you. Especially given what men had been doing to you for so long. The fact that you had warmed up to him at all was in itself nothing short of a miracle.
“Thank you, Daryl.”
“Goodbye.”
That wasn’t good enough for him. If you ever left, it would be on your terms and for your benefit. He’d be damned if he let anyone else take something from you. You finally had a home and friends and choices.
He realized too late that he was falling, his knee meeting the forest floor with a muted thud. Breathing unsteadily, he lowered himself to both knees and tilted his head toward the sun. He only had a couple of hours until nightfall. At this rate, his body would give out if he didn’t rest and replenish fluids, get some calories, he’d never make it to you.
Water became priority. He could do without food, but dehydration from recent blood loss and exertion would do him in long before hunger would. Staggering from tree to tree, he fought off the darkness at the edge of his vision. If he passed out where he was, becoming a walker buffet was the most likely outcome.
It took at least another agonizing mile before he heard the sound of rushing water. A river.
“Fucking finally.” He panted, begging his trembling legs to hold him up just a little longer.
Water from natural sources wasn’t ideal in the best of circumstances, but given the state of the world, water just had to be water. He would not be building a fire, so he couldn’t boil it. He didn’t have a pot to use anyway. River water was at least flowing, making it the safer option versus stagnant lake water.
He was careful when lowering to his knees, feeling weak and off balance. Losing consciousness only to tumble into a river would not lead to a happy ending for that day.
“Damnit.” He groaned, pulling the bag from his shoulder, followed by his crossbow. The ache was constant but he felt instant relief with the added weight removed. He cupped his hands and leaned down to gulp greedily, drinking and drinking until he was certain he would vomit. Dropping forward to let his good arm hold his weight, he fought to catch his breath, willed his body to stop trembling.
He was slow to dig out the canteen, filling it to the brim and placing it back inside his bag. Goddamn, he was tired. Beyond it. Still, he couldn’t rest yet. He needed food and somewhere of relative safety.
Getting back to his feet was even more difficult than before, his legs threatening to give up the ghost. Fuck. Nearly crawling, he sorted through twigs and leaves and sticks until he happened upon one that appeared sturdy enough to hold his weight. Using the newfound walking stick, he struggled upright, panting from the small amount of effort.
Maybe he’d forgo eating and just find a place to rest. He could always eat the next day. He wouldn’t starve.
Moving with a bit more ease thanks to the stick, he made his way back toward the road, filled with a futile hope of finding some sort of structure he could barricade. By the time he saw the old moving van in the ditch, he was ready to just lie down on the forest floor and hope for the best.
The others could find him there, but he was too tired to care. He could no longer think clearly, struggling to open the back door when it should have been an act a toddler could complete. Climbing slowly into the back, he pulled the door closed behind him, groaning from the effort. The back was blessedly empty, giving him ample room. The locks were power operated so he’d have to take his chances with the living. The dead would shuffle right on by. He never had a chance to settle in or have some water, even plan his next move.
He was unconscious before his head met the floor.
#murda writes#the dixon chronicles#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl angst#daryl dixon angst#daryl dixon smut#daryl x female reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl#daryl the walking dead#daryl dixon walking dead#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl
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Hiii! I'm so glad I came across your blog and I love the snape and sibling! Reader fics so would you mind writing a sibling reader fic where she's the defence teacher in yr2 instead of lockhart and maybe she's an auror ( from another ministry) or sumn?? Anyway she starts a duelling club and brings severus for the demo and they get abit too into it, although no one gets hurt and it ends with a draw. The students are awestruck and asks her how she got so good at it and she's like "oh it's thanks to my big brother :)" ? Just sumn cute and fluffy! Thankss!!
Learned from the best
Summary: your brother helps you teach your first dueling club period
"Wow I can’t believe we’ll actually see real live dueling, I only read about them in books" Hermione said running behind her friends in the hall.
"If the new professor is as good as the rumors have it then it’s gonna be a show!" Ron grinned.
"I heard Malfoy saying she learned from the best" Harry said out of breath as they finally reached the dueling club.
"She was an auror in Russia of course she learned from the best you two!" Hermione huffed hugging her book close.
The classroom was crowded from students from all four houses and you stood in the middle of the room wearing your casual witch robes, except for your teaching robe that you layered over your regular outfit.
You healed your head high and smiled at every passing student till you deemed that the attendance time was over and flicked your wand to close the door.
"Well kiddos I’m so happy you came today! I think this dueling club would be a good opportunity to expand our knowledge outside the textbooks and you all can get firsthand experience at how two real duelist are in the wild" The kids whispered among themselves seemingly excited to start with the session already.
"To achieve that, today I am welcoming my lovely assistant, professor snape" You flicked your hand dramatically as the potion master stepped on the mini dueling ground.
"Snape? That’s out to be interesting" Ron whispered to Harry.
"At first we will demonstrate compact but don’t worry you all will have your heads in place and your precious potion master is gonna come back in one piece-"
"Not quite sure about your defense professor though" Snape cut you off and smirked.
There was silence before you titled your head with. Glint in your eyes "I see our duel should start soon since you’re losing your patience this quickly"
You lifted your wand up and smirked "like the old times?"
He lifted his wand up and arched a brow "Like the old times"
Two steps back then you both went into dueling poses.
The student watched with wide eyes as your wand sparked with your first attack and snape dogged it smoothly like a dance move and fired back.
You knelt to the ground dodging his attack and sent a blow to his leg which knocked his off balance but not enough to make him distracted.
"Professor!" One of the hufflepuffs screamed in panic as a curse hit your shoulder slamming you to the ground, you ground in pain, it didn’t cause any actual damage but it stung like a bitch.
"Come on professor, don’t tell me you’ve given up already" Said snape standing to his feet again and pointing his wand any you like a madman.
You huffed and pushed yourself up from the ground and spin around, sliding back in the battle like your nothing just happened.
Snape matched your speed like it was second nature, his hair matched yours as it flew with each attacked, till it stuck your skin from sweat and both of you stood heaving with your hands clenched in your fists.
You licked your lips then smiled at him, he sighed then you both let go of your wands.
"It’s a…draw!" Harry yelled before the crowds of students clapped in applause and screamed.
Snape stood straight and put his wand back in his inner coat pocket.
You walked up to him and held out your hand.
He shock your hand without hesitation and then turned to face the students who seemed too overjoyed by the whole thing to remember how much they were terrified of him.
"You can ask questions now, just raise your hand" you said breathlessly.
An eco of me me covered the, snape rolled his eyes but you chuckled in relief.
"Ok ok! One by one….you! Weasley, Ronald"
Ron looked at his friends excitedly, almost jumping in place "How did you learn all of that?! Is it true you were in the Russia ministry?!"
Snape snorted, you paid him no mind.
You crossed your arms "Well, yes I did work in the Russian ministry for a while but most of my advanced techniques come from one person, my big brother, your dear professor snape but to me he’s just sev"
The students faces were priceless and for once you understood why your brother liked to bother them this much.
Severus put his hand on your shoulder and nodded "If you find yourself capable of following basic instructions and find determination to actually learned something from this club you might end up half as good as your professor"
"Did you just complement me?"
"Take it or leave it." Then he walked off the dueling area.
"I can’t believe they’re related!"
"Honestly, it kinda make’s sense, he didn’t sneer at her the entire two weeks she was here" hermione pointed out.
"That’s true…that’s so weird still" Harry stared at you as you answered more questions by his classmates, it made him wonder, what sort of person was his git of a professor was actually like outside of school.
"And with hard work you too can be as good as a duelist one day, but of course don’t go crazy challenging my brother, he is the best of the best"
"Yes ma’m!"
#pro severus#siblings#platonic#severus x reader#pro severus snape#severus snape headcanon#severus snape fanfiction#severussnape#severus snape x reader#severus snape#severus#severus snape x you
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Better Not to Know + Pt. 2
KYLE GAZ GARRICK x FEM READER
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Summary: It's been months, but you've not been able to forget the stranger you hooked up with in a night club bathroom. Then again, it hard to forget someone who left such a lasting impression.
Warnings/Tags: no serious warnings, mild profanity, no smut this round, no use of Y/N
(Notes: This one wouldn't leave me alone either, so here's a second installment. Bit of a cliffhanger at the end. Yeah, I'm a literary sadist.)
banners & dividers by: @saradika-graphics
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March comes in a like a lion, the wind and rain making it a misery to step foot out-of-doors. Small wonder that your boss decides to send you to pick up his dry cleaning for him instead of doing it himself. Why risk ruining his tailored suits and Italian shoes, when he could just send you, who bought your clothes off the clearance rack?
Umbrella clutched in your fist, you hurry along the sidewalk, dodging puddles and people as you make your way to the dry cleaners. You're relieved to see there's not a line, counting your blessings as you step through the door. An automated chime announces your arrival— bing-bong.
"Hullo. Can I help you?" A young woman with colorful tats sleeving her arms and teal hair gives you a customer service smile from behind the counter.
You pull the ticket from the pocket of your raincoat and slide it over with a tight smile. "Just a pick-up."
The young woman picks up the slip of paper, heavily lined eyes scanning the ticket before flickering over your damp, bedraggled form. "Be just a tick, luv," she murmurs, disappearing through a curtained doorway.
With nothing better to do, you drift over to a display of travel-size stain remover sticks, not bothering to turn around when the door opens, a gust of wind fluttering the hem of your coat. The automated chime sounds, drawing Tattoo Girl out of the back with what you assume is your boss' dry cleaning held aloft in one hand.
"Well, hullo, handsome!" she greets her new customer with a wide, toothy smile. "Got your uniform ready. Just need to take care of this lady first."
You don't look back to see who she's addressing, all your attention focused on fishing your boss' credit card out of your pocket. You do absently notice that the new customer smells nice. You catch notes of sandalwood and pine, a hint of musk, definitely masculine and strangely familiar. You also don't fail to notice how Tattoo Girl keeps glancing over your shoulder as she rings you up, the remnants of her wide smile still lingering.
"Here you go," she says, handing over the dry-cleaning bag and receipt, her eyes already focused on her more desirable customer.
"Thanks," you mutter, drawing the bag over the counter and draping it over your arm. Pulling the sides of your coat together, you turn, curious eyes flicking up to catch a glimpse of the man who has so distracted the pretty cashier, then almost trip over your own feet as you stumble to a halt.
"No bloody way," you breathe in a shocked whisper, staring up at the face that's been haunting you for the last five months.
His eyes widen at the same time yours do, recognition clear in his expression. "Christ, I don't believe it," he mutters, a mystified smile curving his sensuous lips. "It's really you."
You feel the same way. You can't believe it's really him, the gorgeous bloke from the club, Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous himself. "Um— wow. H-Hi."
His soft brown eyes register surprise but also pleasure as they lock with yours and his mega-watt smile appears. "Long time, no see, pet. How ya been?"
You gaze up at him dumbfounded, shaken all the way down to your sensible shoes. It's really him. Holy shit! "I, uh... I'm g-good. And you?" Christ! When did you develop a stammer?
He steps closer, his smile turning into something softer and intimate. "Been doin' alright." His eyes dart over your face, taking you in as if he still can't believe you're real. "This is bloody mad, innit? You wouldn't believe how many times I've..." He lets his words trail off, shaking away his dazed expression. "Ah, never mind. 'M just beyond chuffed to see ya again, pet. You look— lovely."
At least he's pleased to see me again, you think. That's a good sign, isn't it? You adjust the dry-cleaning bag in front of you, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Tattoo Girl clears her throat, drawing your attention back to the counter. You glance over to see a perturbed little frown on her face, her eyes bouncing back and forth between you and the gorgeous man standing by your side.
"Oh! Sorry," you apologize, stepping away from the counter. You glance back up at him, feeling flustered and more than a little overwhelmed. Gripping the dry-cleaning bag closer to your body, you ignore the fact that you're probably wrinkling your boss' clothes.
"Ha. Making a right nuisance of myself, aren't I?" you murmur with a nervous titter. "It was, um, nice seeing you again, uh..." You give him a sheepish little grin, feeling terribly awkward and thoroughly embarrassed. "I-I'm so sorry. I don't think I ever got your, uh... name." God, how embarrassing...
He shuffles his feet and grins, looking a bit sheepish himself. "It's, uh, it's Kyle," he answers in a soft voice, holding out his hand. "Kyle Garrick." He dips his chin down to meet your eyes, giving you a teasing little smirk. "I don't think I got your name, either."
Taking his hand, you utter your name with a dazed expression as his touch sends warm tingles of awareness shooting up your arm. Neither one of you let go until the Tattoo Girl clears her throat again and sniffs in irritation.
Kyle's brows tick together in mild irritation as he shoots a quick look in her direction, then flicks his gaze back to you. "Would ya mind waiting while I take care of this? It'll just take a moment," he says, sounding anxious. "I'd really like to catch up with ya, maybe buy ya lunch or a coffee?"
Your head bobs in eager agreement. "Yeah, sure. I've got time."
Honestly, you didn't, but to hell with your boss. This is far more important to you.
Stepping out of the way, you wait by the door for him, your mind racing. As you stare at his broad back, your teeth worry at your bottom lip, wondering what he will have to say, then fret over what you're going to say to him. Is he just hoping to hook up again or does his interest go deeper than that? The way he's acting, it seems like it's more than that, but who knows? It's not like you really know him that well. Or at all, really. Jesus, this is nerve-wracking...
By the time Kyle has paid for his dry cleaning and is turning around, you have worked yourself up into a jittery mess. His smile dims as he takes in your nervous expression, concern plain on his face.
"Ya alright, pet?" he asks, stepping close to grasp your elbow. "You look like you're about to be sick."
Shaking your head, you offer him a weak smile. "No, no, I'm fine. I just feel a bit peckish," you lie, not wanting to make a scene. You can see Tattoo Girl staring daggers at the two of you, a petulant frown on her face. "Could we go ahead and get that coffee now? I think I need to sit down."
"Yeah, of course, love," Kyle murmurs, caressing your arm with a worried look. "C'mon, let's go."
He takes your umbrella from your numb fingers and opens the door, holding it for you as he snaps the brolly open over his head. Lifting his arm, he lays it across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he shifts the umbrella to shield you both from the rain. Casting another worried glance down at you, he leads you to a nearby sandwich shop and quickly ushers you inside.
"Here we go," he murmurs, guiding you over to a table. He takes the dry-cleaning bag from you and drapes it over the back of a chair with his own. "Here, love. Let me take your coat," he offers as he steps behind you, and you're so flustered that you let him slip the coat from your shoulders before realizing your mistake. Quaking in your shoes, you turn to face him.
Kyle stands frozen, his mouth open to say something, his eyes now riveted on your waistline. You glance down as well then stare up into his shocked face, your hands going to your stomach to splay over the gentle swell of your baby bump.
A pained grimace twists your features as you whisper in a shaky voice, "I suppose I should explain."
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part 1
#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#cod gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick#cod gaz
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Dodge This!
Mirio Togata x reader (ft. Tamaki Amajiki)
~ Mirio has a new hobby and he just had to bring you along to cheer him on.
W.C. 2.6k
a/n: this was a sleep-deprived idea but I really am happy at how this turned out. I really had to incorporate some non-canon pop culture references for narrative sake.
The dimly lit pathways do little to conceal the drying puddles of rainwater on the street around you as you and your boyfriend, Mirio Togata, pass rows of darkened buildings in the city's warehouse district.
"Are you sure we're heading to the right place, Mirio?" You whisper, looking around for any sign of another person. "It seems awfully quiet around here."
He gives you a smile and drapes one of his strong arms around you, pulling you close. "There's nothing to worry about, y/n; we'll get to the gym soon. I just can't wait for you to see me play."
The game in question, dodgeball…
It's no secret pro heroes have some of the hardest jobs out there. Over time, pros have found ways to unwind after work just like everyone else, joining book clubs, poker groups, and adult sports teams.
The latter of which has been gaining more traction in recent years.
After hearing about a quirk-friendly recreational dodgeball league, Mirio jumped at the chance to sign up for a chance to use his quirk for something other than work. The first few times he had gone out, he returned sweaty, slightly bruised from ducking and diving against the gym floor, but more happy than you have seen him in a while.
This is saying something because he is literally a big ball of Sunshine, hope, and optimism. All wrapped in a thick coating of good humor and affection.
At first, you did not want to go. Not because you weren't interested in watching a bunch of Pro Heroes throw rubber balls at one another but because it seemed like this was his thing. This little league has been so therapeutic for him you didn't want to inject yourself into the experience. But after weeks of pleading from him, you finally relented, knowing that in your heart, he wants to share this new and exciting part of his life with you, the person he loves most in the world.
"Oh, watch your step there," he says suddenly. His large forearm shoots out in front of your stomach to stop you from stepping into a massive pothole full of rainwater.
"Thank you." Looking down into the deep hole in the ground, you shudder, imagining the uncomfortable sensation of walking around all night with a sock drenched in rainwater. "You really saved me there, Lemillion." your smile is soft as you meet his twinkling gaze.
His smiling cheeks flush a light pink color at the soft way you said his Hero name. "Anything for you," he beams, taking your hand and guiding you over the obnoxiously large puddle. His hand stays comfortably on your own as you continue walking down the paved street. He happily hums the Mission Impossible theme song, his current hyper-fixation, until he comes to a stop in front of a large warehouse. The white fluorescent light on the outside flickers as it is circled by big white moths.
"And here we are," he declares, turning his attention to you. His features turn serious as he places both of his hands on your shoulder. "Now, do you remember the first rule of underground dodgeball?"
"Ummm, don't talk about underground dodgeball?" you reply as his poker face shatters into his usual joyful features.
"That's it,” he laughs, his body practically buzzing with excitement.
"I should've never made you watch Fight Club, "you mutter under your breath as he takes some sort of access card out of his jacket pocket and slides it into the electronic lock. It beeps in response and the little red light on the side of the sensor turns from red to green as the metal doors open for the both of you.
You are flabbergasted at the complexity of the private facility. "All this for dodgeball?" this is kinda high tech, and you wonder which one of the country's extremely wealthy, retired Pro Heroes decided to fund this operation.
"Yeah, isn't it the best?" he asks, practically bounding down the short hallway toward the ever-growing sound of chatter. His mannerisms remind you of a golden retriever on its way to the dog park. The mental image brings a smile to your lips as you step into a massive gymnasium, its warm overhead lights illuminating the whole room.
A massive indoor sports court lies in the center of the room, surrounded by a few rows of bleachers.
There are already a multitude of heroes and sidekicks standing around the room, some tossing red rubber balls into the padded walls with a scary strength behind them. The impact sends shivers down your spine as you worriedly look to Mirio. But he doesn't seem nervous in the slightest at the possibility of decapitation by rubber ball. Instead, his blue eyes are alight with the fires of competitive determination.
"This is…" The word frightening lingers on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.
"Incredible isn't it? In here we get to let loose a bit and have fun without worrying about our rankings or the media."
You nod, noticing the carefree smiles of the other Heroes in the room. This league is a good thing for them to have fun and just act like they are normal people whilst throwing rubber balls at each other.
He looks at the clock counting down on the switchboard above the gym and shoots you an embarrassed grin. "It looks like we are cutting it a bit close today. My game starts in five minutes, so I'll have to warm up a bit so I can really impress you."
"I'm already impressed with you Mirio," you smile fondly. "I'll go up to the bleachers and get all settled in."
You turn to leave him to his own devices, and you feel a gentle pull on your wrist before you can step away. "Wait," he says firmly, the look on his face dead serious. "You're forgetting something."
"You cock your head to the side and try to remember what he could be talking about. When he sees that furrow in your brow, his serious face melts away, revealing that mischievous boyish grin that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. "You forgot my good luck kiss."
"Oh my," you mock gasp, "how could I forget such an important thing?"
He shakes his head, "It's a crime for sure; you'll have to pay double for this infraction."
"I think that can be arranged," you chuckle, closing the short distance between your two bodies and pressing two gentle pecks to his lips. The kiss is brief, but you can still taste the berry-flavored chapstick he put on earlier lingering on his lips.
You pull away and playfully tug down on the hem of his shirt. "Good luck, Mirio," you murmur, nudging him off toward the court where his other teammates are waiting for him.
It's a short walk up a lightweight metal staircase to the raised bleachers. Since these leagues are pretty low profile, there aren't many spectators. You see a few groups of people waiting to play in the next round, but near the back of the bleachers, you spot a familiar-looking head of indigo hair sitting all by themselves.
"Hello, Tamaki," you say, coming over to sit next to your friend. "I didn't know you were on one of the dodgeball teams."
"I'm not," he replies, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. The heavenly aroma of butter fills your nostrils as you pull your gaze away from the bag he must've gotten from one of the little concession areas in the warehouse. "But someone at my agency wanted to make plans tonight, and I told them I was busy, so I decided to come here so I wasn't lying to them."
"Oh, I get it," you say sympathetically. "But I'm glad you're here. I don't really know anyone else, so it will be nice to have someone to talk to."
He gives you a small smile and tilts his popcorn bag towards you. "Thanks y/n. Here, take some. I saw you were looking at it earlier."
"Thank you," you smile embarrassedly at the realization you are just as sneaky as Mirio. "Was it that obvious?"
"Just a little bit," he says.
Suddenly, you are interrupted by the sound of a rubber ball hitting the wall with a terrifying force. It barrels back at the player who threw it like a boomerang. "Wow, do these balls just not pop?"
"Not usually," Tamaki says. "Since these games are for Pro Heros, the equipment was designed by support specialists to be extra durable. Occasionally, things will break, but it's way less common than with normal equipment."
"I see," you say quietly. Instinctually, your eyes dart over to Mirio in concern, but he looks so genuinely happy stretching and talking with his teammates it gives you a sense of security. If he isn't worried, you shouldn't be either.
A short man in a referee uniform steps up to the side of the court and blows the silver whistle from around his neck. The clear, high-pitched sound echoes off the walls, signaling to the teams of six to take the court.
A line of red rubber balls sit motionless in the center of the court. The players are touching the back walls with just the tips of their fingers as they stare the balls down hungrily as they try to decide which one to go for first.
There is a competitive intensity in the air that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but when you finally zero in on your boyfriend on the court, he doesn't seem to be at all intimidated.
Instead of the balls or his opponents or anything else game-related, you see that he is looking up in the bleachers right at you. A big, goofy grin rests on his face as he waves up at you enthusiastically.
You laugh and give him a small wave back just as the starting whistle blows, and both teams are off. Mario doesn't run toward the line of ammunition at all; he hangs back and paces across the floor with an open, unassuming posture that basically invites his opponents to chuck a ball at his chest.
It doesn't take long until the first player takes the bait. A woman with plum-colored skin and a long silver ponytail steps up and throws the ball his way with a wicked speed. It has a slight backspin as it barrels toward his face.
It gets closer and closer until he activates his quirk, and it passes harmlessly through his body and hits the wall behind him. If it weren't for the special workout clothes he was wearing, you would worry about him sinking through the ground and popping up completely naked.
"Nice throw," he smiles, crouching slightly to pick up the now harmless ball. "If that had hit me, I would definitely feel that tomorrow." He winds up his throw and slings it across the court with a curve.
The woman dodged just barely, but the man behind her wasn't so lucky. The ball hits one of his spring-loaded knees as he tries to leap out of the way and is sent off by the referee.
"Way to go Mirio." you cheer happily. When the sound of your voice reaches his ear, he can't help but puff out his chest with pride.
'Watch me,' he mouths, stepping into the middle of the court.
"Looks like someone is getting overconfident," Tamaki mutters next to you.
"What do you mean?" you ask as Mirio sneaks a smile your way just as his opponents throw three balls at him at once. Thanks to his quirk, he is basically untouchable. If this whole 'hero thing' doesn't work out, you are sure he will have a promising career in the underground dodgeball circuit.
Because that is totally a real thing.
"Wow, he's incredible," you murmur to Tamaki.
"He is," the hero replies, "but Mirio has a weakness."
"Really?" you ask, struggling to think of how he can lose at this game, "how so?"
"Just watch, you'll see what I mean," he replies, taking a long sip from his water bottle.
And watch you do.
As the game rages on, Mirio's teammates are picked off one by one until Mirio finds himself staring down his opponents. The woman with the silver ponytail and the man with the strength quirk you saw earlier warming up. 2 vs. 1 may not be a fair fight, but you have full faith in your boyfriend.
His evasive maneuvers are professional and practiced. He is so good at dodging, ducking, dipping, diving, and dodging some more until all of the balls on the playing field end up on his side, safely out of his opponent's reach.
With a bright red ball in his hand, you see him wind up his throw, rush to the top of the court, and send it flying through the air with all his might.
But the man from before, smiling in his black leather singlet (which cannot be comfortable), catches the ball with one of his giant hands as if it were a balloon.
Mirio is out.
The ref blows the final whistle, and the match ends.
After shaking hands with each one of his opponents, his smile falls, and he sulks over to you with his head hung low. "Ahhh, I was so close," he groans, plopping down next to you and leaning his sweat-dusted brow on your shoulder.
"But you played so well," you say gently, consoling him. "This is so much fun to watch. Thank you for inviting me."
He perks up and puts his chin on your shoulder. "You had fun?"
You nod and press your lips to his forehead. "So much fun."
Tamaki clears his throat. "You player well, fo you play again?"
"Tamaki, thank you for coming." Mirio smiles, looking over to his best friend. "Yeah, I think we play again after this game. Do you want to play? I think we can add in an extra player."
The indigo-haired man's eyes go wide as he starts to shake his head. "N-no, I can't."
"Why not?" Mirio asks cocking his head to the side."
You watch as Tamaki tries to come up with an excuse. “Because… because…”
"That doesn't sound like a reason to me." you hum thoughtfully.
Mirio claps his hands together. "Perfect, then you'll be playing on my team in the next round."
"We could get ice cream afterward." you offer as the shy hero accepts his fate.
He narrows his eyes. "Fine, I'll play. But you're paying."
"Done," you agree, as your boyfriend looks like he is about to burst from happiness at the idea of playing dodgeball with his best friend.
"This is great!" he exclaims, patting Tamaki on the back. "There's extra clothes in the locker room in the back, go get changed."
"You sound too excited about this," Suneater mumbles as he heads off toward where the locker room must be, with the slightest hint of pep in his step.
Your boyfriend looks at you warmly, his sapphire eyes filled with love as he takes your hand. "Thank you for helping me convince him to play. I think this will be good for him to let loose a bit."
"I think you guys will have fun." you say earnestly, "I can't wait to watch."
Mirio gently pokes your cheeks.
"Hey y/n?"
"Babe?"
"The love of my life?"
You scoff as his enthusiasm brings a smile to your lips. "Yes?"
"If we win the next game can I get two scoops?" he leans in close to you and peppers your face with bribing kisses, your favorite form of currency."
"Mirio, if you win. I'll get you three scoops."
Tagging: @enchantedforest-network
#my hero academia mirio#bnha#mha#my hero academia#Mirio x reader#mirio togata x reader#x reader#tamaki amakiji#mirio togata#mha fluff
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THE FIVE NONSENSES
[ SOULMATE!AU ]
Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu
Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well.
read on ao3 | read on quotev
CHAPTER THREE: SMELL
Word Count: 8,205 words
Warnings: Swearing
“Hey, you! Join the photography club!”
You narrowly dodge the flyer thrust in front of your face, knocking back into someone in the process. Flustered, you move in the opposite direction, only to knock shoulders with another student walking the other way. Both of your apologies get lost in the noise.
“Join the basketball team! Winter Cup finalists two years in a row!”
“Improve your focus in calligraphy club!”
“Join kyudo club!”
“Join marching band!”
With a small huff, you grab the strap of Osamu’s schoolbag and squeeze through the crowd. Osamu looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his raised eyebrow with a grimace; not long after, a hand presses between your shoulder blades to usher you forward.
“Dammit,” Atsumu grumbles, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Where’s the volleyball club?”
“Hell if I know,” Osamu says. “Call Aran.”
“’S what I’m doin’, dumbass.” Punching a few buttons, the other boy presses his phone against his ear with visible impatience. “Aran!” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Atsumu’s voice carries high over the clamor surrounding you, causing several students to swivel their heads. “Where the hell’s the volleyball club? … Class 1-7? Seriously?”
Hanging up without so much as a thank-you, Atsumu quickens his stride down the congested hallway. Osamu follows suit, and you end up seizing the back of his blazer as the three of you head to Class 1-7, evading arms and signs and flyers the entire way.
Having visited the school before to watch Ojiro play, you had known that Inarizaki High School is big; navigating it as a student on the first day of school, however, is a whole different animal. You hadn’t realized it was this big. Or this crowded. After a year of being large fish in a small pond, you now find yourselves in an ocean.
At least you have the twins to rough it with.
(It should be noted that your thankfulness varies wildly from hour to hour.)
Near the entrance to Class 1-7, you spot Ojiro wielding a bright sign advertising the volleyball club. He easily stands head and shoulders above most of the other students, and the sight of a familiar face helps you relax – even though you’d just seen him at graduation a few weeks ago, he somehow looks older here, comfortable and self-assured in the raucous halls of Inarizaki.
“Yo! Aran!” Osamu and Atsumu call out, running up to the second-year. You, still holding onto Osamu’s blazer, are unceremoniously yanked along.
Ojiro perks up and grins widely when you all reach him, freeing one hand to bump fists with the twins. “’Bout time you guys showed up. Thought ya chickened out or somethin’,” he exclaims, then nods at you with a grin. “Good to see you here too, [L/n]-chan.”
You smile back. “Hi, Ojiro-senpai.”
(Of all the people the twins consider friends, which have always been rather scant in number, you like Ojiro Aran the best.)
“Chickened out?” Atsumu scoffs. “No way. You scrubs are gonna need us if ya wanna win nationals this year.”
A laugh bursts out of Ojiro’s chest. “Don’t ya think you’re gettin’ a little ahead of yerself?”
“Yeah, well, what’s new?” Osamu pipes up. He elbows his brother’s side, jabbing a thumb at the doorway when the latter chokes up and glares. “Hurry yer ass up, ‘Tsumu, we haven’t even signed up yet.”
You cough. Ojiro laughs again, leading the three of you into the classroom.
There’s a ton of students already inside when you enter. In one corner of the room is the girls’ volleyball club, and in the other is the boys’, though many are mingling and wandering around to chat. A few are upperclassmen wearing the Inarizaki volleyball team’s jacket – the rest, you assume, are first-years hoping for a chance to join.
It’s not surprising for a school that’s gone to the Spring Tournament almost thirty times. Most of these applicants will be benched for their entire high school career.
Following Ojiro to the desk for the boys’ volleyball club, you encounter the two people sitting behind it.
“Arata-senpai, Kobayashi-senpai,” Ojiro announces, clapping one hand on Osamu’s shoulder and the other on Atsumu’s, “got a package deal for ya.”
The first thing you notice about Arata is how tall he is when he’s sitting down. Then he slowly stands up, and your eyes widen as he keeps going and going, finally stopping about half a head taller than Ojiro.
Arata breathes in, vulpine eyes narrowing, before he slams his hands down on the desk with a loud thwap.
“If it ain’t the Miya twins!” he chirps, voice much peppier than expected, and you choke back a surprised laugh. “I watched yer match last year at nationals. You two think ya have what it takes to be part of a powerhouse?”
“Why talk big when we can just show ya, senpai?” Atsumu says, as if he hadn’t been gassing himself up to Ojiro moments before. He pulls out his signup sheet, already filled out in his usual large, messy print, and slides it over to the captain, leaning over the desk with one hand on his hip. “Got yers, ’Samu?”
“Yup.” Osamu slides his over as well, handwriting slightly neater.
Arata takes the sheets happily. Your gaze falls upon his hands by chance, and then it remains there, taking stock of the scribbles of purple and red decorating his skin.
Ojiro whistles. “Looks like yer soulmate’s havin’ fun with some gel pens,” he comments, pointing at Arata’s hands.
“Hm?” The other boy blinks and takes a moment to inspect the words curving below his knuckles. His brow furrows, and he squints before finally breaking out into a goofy smile. “Ah,” he says, and his voice takes on a distinctly fonder, dreamier tone, “guess they are. They’ve been practicin’ hiragana a lot lately. See? Pretty good, eh?” Arata stretches his hands out face-down, showing them off.
(You can barely read the characters.)
“Neat,” Atsumu says, though his tone has flattened just slightly.
“Right?” Arata doesn’t seem to notice. “We’re gonna finally see each other in person next summer after I graduate. They’re graduating high school this June in Spain …”
“He’s really excited,” Ojiro mutters to the three of you, “in case ya couldn’t tell.”
The volleyball captain’s cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink. “What’s wrong with that, huh, Ojiro? I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with them, so it’s a good sign I’m lookin’ forward to it.”
Next to you, Osamu shifts and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. You feel his elbow brush against your arm, bare skin separated by layers of fabric.
The rest of your life.
A strange feeling forms in the pit of your stomach. It’s the same kind you get whenever your parents ask about Osamu, and whenever you see couples wearing matching outfits at the mall – a feeling a little less than longing, and a little more than guilt. Like you ought to be doing more, saying more, expressing more. Feeling more.
You wonder what it is like to be Arata, infatuated, proudly flaunting the colors on his hands.
The girl sitting at the desk finally speaks up.
“I thought we were talkin’ about volleyball, not yer love life, Arata.”
Your gaze moves away from Arata’s wrists and onto the girl.
Still sitting, she and the captain paint a picture of a mouse and an elephant, her tiny form complemented by large, expressionless eyes and a small nose. The maroon jacket hanging off her shoulders looks one size too big.
And yet, when her gaze flicks over and meets yours, you’re overtaken by a sudden chill.
Scary.
Arata jumps and glances down at her. “O-Oh, right! Sorry, Kobayashi-chan, I guess I got carried away.”
“It’s fine.” Kobayashi continues to stare at you, and you start to feel slightly uncomfortable. “’S why I’m here.”
“Yeah!” Coughing, Arata rubs the back of his neck and turns his attention back to the twins. “Gettin’ back on track … if it isn’t obvious already, Kobayashi-chan is our manager. She’s real good. Real detailed.”
“But I’m also in my third year, which means we’re currently lookin’ for a new manager for next year,” Kobayashi supplies. “So if ya happen to know any first-years who’re qualified and willing to apply for the right reasons, please let me know.”
Your brow furrows at that.
“Whaddaya mean, ‘the right reasons’?” Osamu asks.
A sheepish laugh escapes Arata’s throat. “Well … the volleyball team’s pretty popular, so we get a lot of folks wantin’ to be manager just to get closer to the team and see if one of the members is their soulmate.” He sighs. “It’s not that I wanna keep any soulmates apart, but those kinds of applicants slow down the search, and obviously, we want a manager who actually wants to manage.”
Ah. Already, some of your peers already seem like they’re on a time crunch to find their person. Soulmates are getting to be a bigger and bigger deal as you get older, and with that comes certain expectations. It’s not hard to figure out why some would hope to have someone popular and athletic.
“Sorry, don’t know anybody like that,” Atsumu replies at the same time Ojiro says your name.
You look at your senior, surprised.
He directs a finger upwards. “Ya know volleyball pretty well,” he points out. “Wanna apply? You already manage the twins, after all.”
“Oi, what’s that s’posed to mean –”
Arata seems to finally notice you, eyebrows raising. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t see ya there,” he exclaims. “What’s yer name?”
Reluctantly, you step up next to Osamu and introduce yourself.
“[L/n]-chan. So ya know the twins?”
“I’ve lived on the same street as them since elementary school.”
“Really! Ya must know them well, then.”
“More than well,” says Kobayashi.
She points down at your hand. Arata follows her finger, and you resist the urge to curl your pinkie when his mouth drops.
“Oh, damn, you’re soulmates with – er, uh –”
Osamu and Atsumu just stand there, watching the captain flounder. After a few seconds, you reach up and tug Osamu’s earlobe sharply.
“Osamu,” you say, both as an answer and as a scolding, ignoring the muttered ‘ow’ coming from your right.
Clapping his hands, Arata nods. “You’re soulmates with Osamu-kun! Wow, that’s amazing. And you’ve been together since elementary school? He’d think and play better with you just bein’ there.”
You smile, embarrassed.
“That doesn’t make her the right candidate, Arata,” says Kobayashi. “Even if she really wants to manage the team, she might still prioritize Osamu-kun over everybody else. The last thing I want is a manager who picks favorites.”
She says it so bluntly, so seriously. Your smile weakens as her words hit a sore spot you didn’t know you even had.
There must be a good way to disagree. The two truths of the matter are that being a good manager would mean risking being a bad soulmate, and that being a good manager is a risk you can afford. Osamu isn’t the type of person who needs to be worried about. He gets scraped up, but he doesn’t mind it, and he knows his limits. If a player got hurt right as Osamu called you for something, you know you’d check on the other player first. Even if the other player was Atsumu. (Maybe.)
Osamu simply does not need you to take care of him. You don’t know how to express this without seeming like you don’t care as much as you should.
Atsumu cuts in before you can organize your thoughts into words.
“She wouldn’t,” he says, “unless it’s me. But ’Samu and I are soulmates, so we’re already at our best when we’re on the court.”
The upperclassmen before you tilt their heads simultaneously.
“… Wait,” Arata says after a while, slowly. “You’re tellin’ me that Osamu-kun has two soulmates?”
Osamu glances at you, eyes half-lidded, and you can only meet his eyes for a few seconds before you have to look at the ground.
“Guess I’m favored,” Osamu replies.
“Wow.” Huffing out a laugh, Arata crosses his arms. “Two soulmates … huh. I wonder how that works …” Kobayashi grunts and he clears his throat. “S-Sorry. Anyway, [L/n]-chan, if you’re interested in the manager position, just fill this out and give it to Kobayashi-chan. We’re taking applications until July first or until we find someone, whichever comes first.”
He hands you a sheet of paper, and you take it tentatively.
“My phone number’s at the top in case you have any questions,” Kobayashi adds. Her voice lowers, but its monotony remains. “And if ya end up applying, know that I won’t show any favoritism just because of yer soulmate.”
You take in a breath through your nose, fingers curling into the application in your hands. “Yeah, of course.”
She nods once, then leans back in her seat. The set of her mouth relaxes just slightly, and she crosses her arms, morphing from a cutthroat manager to a tired senpai.
“See ya after school. Good luck,” she says. Her eyes bore into yours. “To all of ya.”
There’s a moment of silent surprise between you, Osamu, and Atsumu. Then all three of you bow as Ojiro and Arata chuckle.
“Thank you!”
—
The twins, predictably, become one of three first-year regulars on Inarizaki’s boys’ volleyball team. You place your manager application in the top drawer of your desk, which you pull out frequently over the next three weeks just to stare at the blank form, unsure about the whole thing.
Saturday afternoon rolls around, and you’ve taken the paper out of your binder and set it on top of your desk at home when your phone buzzes.
Osamu: you home
You: yeah
Osamu: ok
And that’s it. You stare at your screen for a few seconds, unblinking, before you shoot up from your seat and scramble to your dresser to get changed.
Five minutes and a bit of haphazard cleaning later, there’s a few firm knocks on the front door, followed by incessant banging. You stalk over to open the door before it’s knocked off its hinges.
“I could hear you,” you tell Atsumu, unimpressed, as the two enter and shuck off their shoes.
“I know.”
He deftly dodges the kick you aim at his ankle. This usually happens nowadays, unfortunately, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.
“’S just you here?” Osamu asks, shuffling into some slippers and walking further into the house. His gym bag hangs from his shoulder, big and bulky, and you look at it curiously.
“… Yeah?”
“Fer someone left home alone all the time, you’re duller than a rock,” Atsumu says. “Folks’re gone and ya don’t even throw a party? Geez.”
You narrow your eyes as he grins. “Maybe I just want peace and quiet after havin’ to sit in class with you all week, Atsumu. Anyways, why are you guys here?”
You receive no answer. After eyeing the kitchen, Osamu turns and heads down the hallway, prompting you to follow. You’re further confused when he enters the bathroom and sets his bag on the countertop.
As he unzips it, Atsumu squeezes past you and reaches into the bag, pulling out a –
A shower cap.
“… Is the shower at yer place broken or something?”
“No,” Osamu says, and he pulls something else out. “Ma’s home.”
You stare at the box in his hands. Then you look back up at the twins.
“She’s gonna kill you.”
—
Watching Osamu and Atsumu bleach each other’s hair is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.
Their dark T-shirts have speckles of orange on them, there are bits of foil littering the sink and the bathroom floor, and the acrid stench of bleach filling the bathroom is starting to creep down the hallway. You can only hope it doesn’t linger past Sunday night when you go back to the dorms.
“If you screw this up, I’m shaving yer giant head in yer sleep.”
“I’m doin’ it better than you did, ya scrub!”
You stand outside, shirt collar pulled up and over your nose, as Atsumu finishes combing through the top part of Osamu’s hair. It’s an incredible thing to witness: Osamu sitting on the shower seat, hunched over and holding a sheet of foil over his undercut while Atsumu hangs over him, wearing one of the shower caps to keep his own hair out of the way. It’s also a disaster.
You lift your phone up to snap a quick picture.
“Oi! What’re ya doin’?”
“Making a present for Ojiro.” Upon viewing the photographic evidence, you realize something. “You’re not gonna tell Auntie that you dyed yer hair at my house, right?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Osamu assures, letting Atsumu hold onto the foil while he pulls on a shower cap. He sets a timer, and the two of them hurry out of the bathroom to escape the fumes. “She won’t be thinkin’ about the details when she finds out.”
“Like she’d ever blame ya, anyway.” Atsumu scoffs. “You’re the favorite and you ain’t even her kid.”
“Well, I don’t wanna take my chances.” You recall the countless number of times the twins had received a whooping for something stupid they did, and the countless number of times you had just barely managed to slip under the radar by keeping your mouth shut. “Y’know, she might make ya dye it black again if the school doesn’t like it.”
“Please. If anything, they’ll thank us fer givin’ them an easy way to tell us apart.”
“Is that why you’re dyein’ yer hair? You’re already in different classes.”
“It ain’t fer class,” Osamu says. “It’s fer volleyball.”
Atsumu presses his back against the wall and slides down to the floor, pulling up a game on his phone. “Some of the scrubs still can’t tell us apart on court,” he sniffs. “’M tired of it.”
That, you think, makes a lot more sense.
Osamu and Atsumu have always taken full advantage of being identical twins. You’ve seen them pull just about every stunt in the book – switching the way they part their hair on random days, pretending to be the other when one of them gets in trouble, making money off classmates who bet on knowing who’s who (and lying on more than one occasion). Looking alike isn’t usually a point of contention between them.
When it does bother them, volleyball is usually involved. They don’t always wear different shirts or numbered jerseys at practice, and you’ve been to enough of them to know that this can cause issues at the beginning of the year. The coach calls out the wrong name, a teammate calls for Osamu when they mean Atsumu, things like that.
They get especially miffed when one gets praised for something the other did. Atsumu, in particular, hates that the most.
“Ya have anythin’ to eat?”
Head snapping up, you look at Osamu and nod halfway through absorbing what he’s just asked. “There’s leftover onigiri in the fridge and snacks in the cupboard,” you reply, stepping over Atsumu’s outstretched legs to lead his brother towards the kitchen.
(“Heat up an onigiri fer me,” Atsumu calls out.)
(“Get it yerself, lazy-ass,” Osamu shoots back.)
In the kitchen, you fish out the last two onigiri the twins’ mom had given you yesterday and present them to Osamu.
“Here. You and Atsumu can each have one.”
“These the ones with salted salmon?”
You nod.
Osamu thinks for a moment. His lips purse, his eyelids droop, and even though he kind of looks like a lunch lady with that shower cap on, it’s cute.
“I’ll make ochazuke and yaki onigiri,” he decides. “What do ya want?”
“I’ll just have some chips or something. I just ate lunch, so I’m not that hungry.”
He stares at you, then accepts the onigiri from your hands. “Okay.”
Putting the rice balls on the counter next to the stove, Osamu retrieves a small plate, a bowl, and a mug from the cupboard. He finds most of everything else pretty quickly – the cast iron skillet under the oven, the spatula in the drawer right next to the fridge, and the soy sauce and oil in the lower corner cabinet. The only thing he asks for you to locate is the green tea, which you get from the depths of the second shelf in the pantry.
While he works, you grab a bag of your favorite chips and pop it open, leaning against the unused counter on the other side of the stove to watch.
You like it whenever Osamu cooks. The click of the stovetop turning on, the curve of oil being poured into the skillet, and you’re rocking gently in a small boat, curled up in an overstuffed chair on a rainy day.
(It’s an extension of how he feels, you’ve learned – for as much as Miya Osamu loves volleyball, he loves food just a teeny bit more.)
When the oil is hot enough, he unwraps one of the onigiri and places it in.
You turn the opening of your chip bag towards him as he wipes his hands on a towel. “Here,” you offer once he notices.
“Thanks.”
Atsumu’s onigiri sizzles in the skillet while the water for Osamu’s tea continues to heat up. Osamu mirrors your posture on his side of the stove, messily crunching down on several chips, and the two of you wait.
“Didja apply for the manager position yet?”
You swallow too early, rough shards of chips cutting down your throat. Fighting the urge to cough, you shake your head and reach for the water you’d left on the table this morning. “No. Still thinkin’ about it.” He hums. “You guys haven’t found one yet?”
“Kobayashi-senpai’s real picky.” He flips the onigiri over with one sharp push of the spatula, brushing soy sauce over the freshly grilled side. The water boiler beeps right after, and he seamlessly transitions over to pour the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Most of the applicants we saw were annoyin’, anyway.”
“Oh.”
You recall the last practice you’d attended, watching from the balcony with your homework as the team ran laps around the court. The applicant on trial that day had watched them go by a few times, still and proper, before suddenly turning to Kobayashi and excusing themselves from the gym. They never came back.
On the walk back to the dorms that evening, Atsumu explained that the student had a counter for how many times their soulmate would pass by them.
(“Waste of time n’ space,” he’d complained. “Who’d wanna be with someone that desperate?”)
“Ya wouldn’t be half bad at it.”
“… Yeah …”
“If ya don’t wanna apply, just say so.”
“It’s not that. I just don’t know if I’ll wanna do it for the next three years.”
“Whaddaya want to do, then?”
“I dunno.” With a sigh, you set your bag of chips down. “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to apply.”
Osamu shrugs. “If ya are,” he says, turning off the stove top, “don’t do it just ’cause of me.”
Your teeth sink into your lower lip, sharp and knowing as he flips the yaki onigiri onto the plate he’d pulled out earlier.
After calling Atsumu, who had migrated to the living room couch while he had been waiting, the twins scarf down their afternoon snack in no time at all and raid your cupboard for the complimentary snacks your parents usually bring back from their trips.
Halfway into his fourth wafer, Atsumu’s timer goes off.
“Oh, shit.” Shoving the rest of the wafer into his mouth and silencing the alarm, Atsumu gets up and eagerly makes a beeline to the bathroom.
“… Do ya think it worked?” you mutter as you and Osamu stand up more slowly.
“I dunno.”
A loud swear explodes from the bathroom.
You look at each other sharply. Wiping the crumbs from your lips, the two of you run over to investigate.
As you get closer, you hear the sink running, then Atsumu muttering underneath his breath.
When you peek into the bathroom, your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline.
Holy shit.
“Holy shit,” Osamu says, leaning past you to get a better look. “’Tsumu, ya look like a carrot.”
“Shaddup, ’Samu,” Atsumu moans, rinsing his hair angrily. “I know. Fuck.”
Hair bleach on dark hair, as you find out, works similarly to hair bleach on dark fabric. Contrary to the sandy blond the older twin had desired, the result he had gotten is instead a bright, burnt yellow-orange matching the stains on his T-shirt. Not carrot, necessarily, but definitely not blond.
“Ugh.” Nose and forehead wrinkling, Atsumu leans toward the mirror, pinching a section of hair between his fingers. “It … it ain’t that bad, right?” His pitch rises with the slightest hint of denial. “I’m pullin’ it off.”
“It’s that bad,” Osamu says.
“’Samu!”
“Maybe you can bleach it again?” you suggest.
“And then his hair falls out? Bad idea.”
“Dye it, then, like you are.”
“We don’t have money left to buy a different color.” With a sigh, Osamu puts his hands on his hips. “Damn. Sorry, ’Tsumu.”
Atsumu groans and thunks his forehead against the mirror, dripping water all the way down its surface onto the counter. His frustration is so palpable that you can feel it prickling your skin.
If he hadn’t been so excited before, you’d probably poke fun. You should poke fun, but the disappointed twist of his lips and the droopiness of his sopping wet hair just makes you feel bad. He looks like a wet puppy.
Dammit.
You take your phone out.
Osamu tracks the movement. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Lookin’ something up.” You press on the first link you see, skim the webpage quickly, and put your phone back into your pocket. “I’m headin’ out fer a bit. Stay here.”
“… ’Kay.”
“Whatever,” Atsumu grumbles.
After grabbing your wallet and checking its contents, you head outside to drag your bike out from underneath the vacant carport. And as you hop onto the seat, pedaling down towards the nearest drugstore, you tell yourself that Atsumu better thank you on his hands and knees once you get back.
—
“Blue shampoo?” Atsumu’s tone is suspicious as he slathers the back of Osamu’s hair in grey dye.
“It’s supposed to cancel out the orange.” Turning the bottle to face you, you read the description beneath the brand name. “‘Eliminates brassy, orange undertones.’ See?”
“It ain’t gonna fuck up my hair even more?”
“’Course not,” you retort, all hopes of veneration quickly fading away. “I ain’t an asshole, Atsumu.”
His eyebrow twitches, hands slowing. You take the opportunity to place the bottle sideways in the crook of his neck, forcing him to tilt his head to hold it in place.
“Oi –”
“Go try it. I’ll finish Osamu’s hair.”
“Yer so bossy,” Atsumu grumbles, but he lets you nudge him out the way, peeling his gloves off and grabbing the shampoo.
You snap some gloves on in turn, keeping one eye on Osamu’s hair and the other on Atsumu as he ducks his head beneath the sink faucet. They’d pretty much finished up applying the dye for Osamu, at least from what you can tell, so you start combing through the locks with your fingers to make sure everything is covered.
Miya hair is very thick. Soft, too. You hope all this bleaching and dyeing won’t ruin it too much.
“Hm,” Osamu hums abruptly.
You stop. “What?”
“Nothin’.” You furrow your brow but resume, only to just barely hear him mumble, “… Feels nice.”
Oh.
A smile crawls onto your lips without warning, the space behind your ribcage suddenly cozy and soft.
“Alright, I’m doin’ it,” Atsumu announces. You look up just in time to see him squeeze a dollop of shampoo into his hand. “Euch! It’s so blue!”
“Why do ya sound so surprised?!”
“Shaddup, I just wasn’t expectin’ it to be so dark! … Smells okay, though …”
While the shampoo does its work on Atsumu’s hair, you take a little extra time combing Osamu’s. He remains quiet and still, thumbs tapping idly on the dark screen on his phone. You wait for him to make more snide remarks at Atsumu’s expense or complain about the smell of the dye, but he doesn’t.
You eventually finish up while the water still runs blue and sudsy into the bowl of the sink. Osamu mutters a thank you and ambles off after eyeing his brother for a few seconds. You linger for a while longer.
(God, you hope it works. If not for Atsumu’s sake, then for your pride and your wallet.)
After what seems like forever, he rinses out the last of the shampoo, wrings his hair out a bit, and straightens up to look in the mirror.
You examine his reflection as well. It’s less orange, yes, but still not as light as he had wanted, more gold than sand. Not necessarily good, but certainly less bad.
Atsumu fixates on the more muted shade of his hair for a minute or two. His lips press downwards at the corners, and then they part to say your name.
You blink.
“What?”
“Why’d ya buy the shampoo?”
He sounds almost accusatory, but not quite; there’s an undertone that you very, very rarely hear in his voice. He meets your eyes in the mirror, hair a dripping, tangled mess.
“… ’Cause I felt bad fer ya,” you admit unwillingly. Atsumu makes a face, and you sharpen your tongue, because that is what feels comfortable with him. Normal. “And I didn’t want to hear ya mopin’ and complainin’ about it all week.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” he persists. “I coulda pulled it off.”
You scoff. “Just ’cause you’re taller than most of the school doesn’t mean they wouldn’t’a noticed. And anyways, it’s better now, ain’t it?”
“I didn’t ask ya to buy it.”
“Ya didn’t even know what it was until I told you.”
“An’ if I did, I still wouldn’t’ve asked!”
“Yeah, ’cause yer prideful ass would rather die than ask fer help!” you snap, jabbing his bicep with your finger. “God! I knew ya wouldn’t even say thank you!”
“Well, if ya knew I was gonna be a dick about it, why’d ya waste yer money?!”
“I felt bad fer ya!” you screech. “My mistake!”
“Yeah, yer mistake!” Atsumu shouts back.
Chest heaving for breath, you glare at him. He glares in return. Temper pinks his face and the tips of his ears, flares his nostrils and curls his lip in that fierce and familiar way. In the back of your mind, you know you are doing the same.
Asshole.
You’re angry, yes. And offended, and exasperated, and and and –
And hurt.
“It’s so hard,” you say, your voice deciding to crack at the worst time possible, “to be nice to you sometimes, Atsumu.”
When the words leave your throat, his face grows blank in that way you’ve always hated, his mouth pressing into a fine line.
“So?” he replies.
You roll your eyes. “Forget it.”
Casting one last glance at the bottle of shampoo next to the sink, you clench your fists and turn to leave. What a waste of money. This is the last time you’re ever going to feel bad for him.
A hand wraps around your elbow upon your first step outside the bathroom.
“… Are ya cryin’?”
“No,” you bite, wishing he hadn’t asked because now you do feel like crying, just a little bit.
Atsumu pauses for an excruciating moment. You can practically feel his distaste for whatever words he’s about to say.
“I’ll pay ya back,” he mutters. “Fer the shampoo.”
“No.”
“Whaddaya mean, no?”
“I don’t want yer money.”
“Well, what do ya want, ’cause I ain’t owin’ ya anything.”
“I want a thank you.”
“… Can’t I just –”
“No.”
Atsumu throws his hands up. “Fine!” he says. “Thanks fer buyin’ somethin’ I didn’t ask fer! There, ya happy now?”
“I want ya to mean it,” you say quietly.
“I did mean it.”
You cross your arms.
He groans. Glancing around as if checking for hidden cameras, Atsumu slowly pushes his bangs away from his face and wipes his nose, sniffing.
“… Fine,” he eventually grumbles at the floor tiles. Cheeks puffed, he looks up at you from the corner of his eye and scratches the back of his head. “The shampoo fixed it a little bit,” the words struggle their way out of his mouth, “so … thanks … fer gettin’ it fer me. Ya didn’t have to.”
He looks like he’s just eaten soap, his ears still red, and that’s how you know he’s being sincere. Your shoulders relax a little bit.
“You’re welcome,” you say.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Atsumu’s expression, almost doleful for just that moment, blooms into something more sarcastic once you accept his gratitude. He gestures at the doorway behind you. “Can I go now?”
“Dry the mirror and the counter first.”
“But I said thank you.”
You throw a towel at his face and walk away, more satisfied than not.
—
“How’s Osamu-kun doing?”
You prop your phone up against the wall behind your desk, tilting your pen between your fingers. “He’s fine, Ma.”
“Did ya tell him how good his curry is? He makes it better than me.”
“Yeah, he says he’s glad you guys like it.”
After resolving the blue shampoo issue with Atsumu on Saturday, you’d gone back to the kitchen and found Osamu chopping vegetables and tofu next to the sink. At first, you figured he was hungry again, but upon your questioning, he’d only denied it.
(“’S fer you.”
“… Fer me? No, you don’t have to –”
“Yeah, I know. Ya don’t like the curry at the cafeteria, so bring mine back to the dorm and save it in the fridge fer later. If ya don’t want it, leave it fer yer folks to eat when they get back.”)
He didn’t leave much room for debate. And since he was using your family’s food to make it anyway, you accepted, a bit perplexed but happy nonetheless. You hadn’t expected him to remember your complaint about the cafeteria’s bland curry.
The amount he made was enough to fill two Tupperware containers, one of which you left for your parents when they returned two days later. Needless to say, they were delighted.
“What a thoughtful boy. He’s so good to you, honey.”
You smile, walking back to your desk. “Yeah.”
(“Ya like dark chocolate in it, right?”)
Your mom sighs. It’s a familiar sigh, and you click your pen, knowing what she is about to say before she even takes a breath.
“I just don’t know why he hasn’t asked ya out yet.”
You can hear your dad speak up between chews in the background. “It ain’t like how it was back when we were young, dear. Soulmates these days don’t like makin’ things so formal and official.”
“Oh, I know, but wouldn’t it be sweet? I was so happy when we went on our first official date.”
“The one at the konbini ’cause I couldn’t afford anythin’ nicer?”
“Yes. I loved it.”
“I know. You were smilin’ the whole time.”
“Glad you’re still in love,” you say dryly when they giggle over the phone, your nose wrinkling when your dad comes into view to give your mom a loud smooch. During these moments, you wish you’d called instead. “I’m still here.”
“Oh, I know, I know. Honey, you should bring Osamu-kun somethin’ fer his next game! A snack fer afterwards. He’ll like that.”
“Okay.” You’ve done that before. The first time you gave him an orange in your first year of junior high, he and Atsumu squabbled over dividing it for five minutes. Now you get double portions whenever you have the compulsion to bring something after games, just to keep the peace.
“Speaking of games …”
Here we go.
“… Have ya applied to be the manager for the volleyball team yet?”
“Um.” Glancing at the wall to your right, you click your pen some more, taking your time to answer. “I filled the form out …”
“[Y/n]! If ya dawdle, someone else’ll snatch it up. When’s it due?”
“July first or until they find someone.”
“Turn it in tomorrow!”
“Okay, okay.”
Your mom sighs again, and she places a bowl down onto the table. “… Otherwise, are ya okay? I’m sorry we missed ya at home.”
“It’s fine. I hung out with Kokomi and the twins. How was yer anniversary?”
“We’ll make sure we’re home next time you’re on weekend leave. And it was lovely! Oh, honey, ya should’ve seen the fish yer pa caught …”
You talk with your parents until they finish their dinner, hanging up once they’ve started cleaning up. As soon as the video cuts out, you release a breath and turn your phone face-down.
You don’t know why you’re so nervous about applying for the manager position. It’s the natural thing to do, because it’s natural to want to be involved with something Osamu is interested in, his own opinion on the matter notwithstanding. You think you might like being a manager. It’s not like you want to do something else more.
Getting rejected by Kobayashi would be horrible, though.
Maybe you’ll wait a little longer to turn your application in. Polish it up some more, and such.
—
After volleyball practice ends, and after everyone who had lingered behind to practice some more is ready to call it a night, Atsumu tells you and Osamu that he’s staying a little longer to practice his jump float serves.
“Are ya sure? Cafeteria’s servin’ all-you-can-eat pasta for dinner.”
“I’ll be done before it closes.”
Osamu doesn’t look convinced. To be fair, neither are you; Atsumu often loses track of time when he stays behind, resulting in an extra hungry, extra irritable Atsumu.
“Atsumu,” you say.
He huffs at you. “Seriously, I will!” he insists, before turning to walk back to the end line. You, Osamu, Ginjima, Akagi, and Ojiro all look on helplessly as he throws a volleyball into the air and gives himself a running start.
“Don’t worry,” Kobayashi says, grabbing your attention just as he jumps. She holds up the key to the gymnasium. “I’ll kick him out before he misses dinner.”
Ojiro, ever the responsible one, lets out a noise of protest. “Senpai, I can lock up. You should go.”
“No, it’s fine.” Though her tone is impassive, she makes it clear that her mind is set as she waves him off. “I’m goin’ out to eat with my boyfriend later, anyway.”
You blink.
Though Ojiro is visibly reluctant, he acquiesces. “… Okay. Thank you, Kobayashi-senpai.”
“Mmhm,” Kobayashi hums, and her gaze falls upon you. “Make sure they get to the cafeteria in one piece, [L/n]-chan.”
“I will, senpai.”
You wait outside while the guys change out of their gym clothes and gather their things. Once they exit the building, you join them, listening idly to their chatter about today’s practice as the five of you trek towards the cafeteria.
“Hey, Ojiro-senpai, Akagi-senpai,” Ginjima speaks up during a lull in the conversation. “What Kobayashi-senpai said earlier …”
Attention piqued, you look at your upperclassmen for their reactions to Ginjima’s question. Next to you, Osamu does little to hide his curiosity as well.
Ojiro and Akagi, in turn, share a glance, and Ojiro raises an eyebrow at Ginjima.
“Yeah?” Ojiro replies.
“Well, y’know …” Ginjima presses expectantly, “when she said that she has a boyfriend, did she mean …?”
“That’s somethin’ you can ask Kobayashi-senpai about, ain’t it?”
You imagine doing just that and cringe.
Ginjima’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “Well –!” he replies, a bit too loudly. “I would, but I don’t want her to think I’m bein’ judgmental or somethin’. Plus, I’m just a first-year …”
“Aw, I think it’s fine if they know, Aran. It ain’t like she’s hidin’ it or anythin’,” Akagi says. Ojiro looks up for a moment in thought, then shrugs tentatively, and Akagi smiles at you and the two boys. “Kobayashi-senpai’s not datin’ her soulmate. They’re pretty serious, too.”
Ojiro rests his hands behind his head. “He’s a nice guy. Comes to games sometimes.”
“Oh, I see …”
You nod slowly, absorbing this new piece of information. Kobayashi has a boyfriend. A boyfriend that she goes on dates with, one she really likes. You wonder how long they’ve been together.
You wonder if Kobayashi’s met her soulmate yet.
“E-Excuse me! Hello!”
The quick patter of footsteps interrupts your train of thought. Glancing behind you, you stop short when you see one of your classmates running up to your group, waving one hand and holding a camera in the other. The golden orange of the sky burnishes her red hair.
“Naruko-san,” you and Ginjima greet at the same time. Ginjima laughs.
“Sorry to bother ya!” Naruko bows and quickly straightens, holding her camera up and smiling nervously. “I-I was just takin’ some pictures for photography club, and I was wonderin’ if you guys would mind me takin’ a picture?”
“How long’s it gonna take?” Osamu asks.
“Not too long. Five minutes? U-Unless y’all are in a hurry to get somewhere …”
“Not too much of a hurry. Just wanna make it to dinner.” Ojiro smiles, patting Osamu and Akagi’s backs. “Where do ya want us?”
Naruko brightens, her cheeks going red. “J-Just keep walkin’! The lighting’s perfect right now, and I wanna take a picture of yer backs with yer volleyball jackets on.” She glances at you, and her expression grows more nervous. “Er …”
You lock eyes with her for a few seconds before catching on. Nodding, you take a step towards Naruko to join her.
Osamu’s hand grasps your shoulder.
His hold is loose, but you bite back the urge to slump over at the sudden warmth of it, pausing instead to look back at him.
“Where’re ya goin’?”
You answer tentatively. “I don’t have a team jacket.”
“That’s fine. You’re walkin’ with us too.”
“Yeah, but …” You wet your lips. “Like, visually, it’ll look weird if one person doesn’t have one on …”
The corner of Osamu’s mouth twitches, and he frowns. You watch as his gaze moves past your shoulder. A sudden, brief twinge of irritation, not belonging to you, zings through your ribcage.
“Why’s that matter?”
“Yeah. C’mon, it’ll be fine,” Ojiro says.
“It’s okay!” Naruko suddenly blurts, and you jolt slightly, looking back at her. She bounces on her feet, voice even higher pitched. “I can do a more candid shot, now that I think about it! A-Actually, Miya-san, could ya give [L/n]-san yer jacket? And Ginjima-san, you can keep yers around yer waist …”
Her sudden change in idea perplexes you a bit. But Osamu seems to be satisfied, and he shrugs his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders.
After a bit of hesitation, you slide your arms through the sleeves.
(It’s just as warm.)
“Ooh, [L/n]-chan’s wearin’ Osamu’s jacket,” Ginjima teases behind his hand, and your face heats up.
“Okay.” Behind you, Naruko lets out a wistful-sounding sigh. “I’m ready. Y’all can start walkin’ now, just like ya were before.”
With only a bit of self-consciousness, the five of you follow her instructions. There are only a few clicks of the camera before Naruko calls out her thanks and goes off without another word, leaving you and the boys to speculate whether you’ll ever see the results.
“How cute,” Akagi comments. “She looked like she was gonna throw up, though.”
“I hope those were conflicting statements.”
“Okay, Aran, I wasn’t implying …”
While the two upperclassmen start to banter, you move to take Osamu’s jacket off, only for him to stop you.
“’S fine,” he says. “You can wear it if ya want.”
“Oh. Okay.”
And so you do.
—
The boys’ first practice game in July is brutal.
Many of your peers have come to watch. It’s a favorite after-school pastime of Inarizaki’s student populace, you’ve quickly discovered, to hop from one athletic club to the other simply to spectate and speculate. People pack the balcony and peek around the doorway, catching the scent of blood and sweat.
Between the crowd’s cheering and jeering, the squeak of sneakers on the gym floor, and the sound of palms ramming into volleyballs, the atmosphere is sharp, almost electric – something that you feel tingling on your skin as you stand on the sidelines, Kobayashi right by your side.
Atsumu delivers another devastating service ace. It ricochets off the corner of the other side of the court with a thunderous boom.
“Did you catch that, [L/n]-chan?” Kobayashi asks, arms crossed. “That was one of his better ones.”
“Ah, sorry, I didn’t.”
“Hm.”
You watch the slow, satisfied stretch of Atsumu’s smile, and wait patiently. “It’s okay. He ain’t done yet.”
Indeed, Atsumu is just getting started. You spare an amused glance at Osamu in front of the net, his hands locked protectively behind his head, before turning back to Atsumu as the volleyball is thrown back to him.
Raising your camera, you adjust the focus, finger ready on the shutter button.
Toss. Run. Jump.
Click.
On your other side, a girl pumps her fists and cheers.
“Wow! Another one!” she gushes.
You smile behind your lens. “Ya always sound so impressed, Tsubaki-chan.”
“I’m just excited! We’re crushin’ them in the last set!”
“’Course we are,” says Kobayashi. “Our offense is that much better. I’m a little disappointed.”
As your upperclassman patiently points out each player’s strengths and weaknesses, you keep an eye on the team and crouch low. You’ve got plenty of photos now that the game’s nearing its end – lots of sets, a few spikes and digs, some flashy jump serves. Hopefully, some of them have turned out halfway decent. Even though you’d widened the aperture to make up for the gym’s crappy lighting and adjusted the shutter speed for blurring, you still worry about your timing.
By the time Inarizaki scores the winning point, you’ve moved to the opposite end of the court and have to race back to capture their reactions.
One thing you like about the volleyball team is how expressive they are. Joy, passion, pride – off the high of a victory, they bare everything, whether it’s through their expressions or the way they move or both.
Tsubaki says your name excitedly as soon as the teams have finished thanking each other, tugging on your arm. “Can I see the action shots, [Y/n]-chan?” she requests.
“Ah, sure.”
You turn the camera towards her, and she leans in as you scroll through the photos, her grin widening.
“Wow! Yer timin’s amazin’. They look so cool!”
The praise brings summer to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you reply genuinely. After a moment of hesitation, you lift the camera again. “Smile, Manager-san?”
Tsubaki doesn’t hesitate to broaden her already present grin, throwing up a peace sign for good measure. Kobayashi looks your way as well, and you take one shot, knowing it will be kept.
“Cute!” Tsubaki exclaims.
Two shadows loom over your shoulders as the girl bestows you with another compliment. When you turn your head to the right, your nose nearly brushes Osamu’s cheek.
“Ya got any good shots of us, [Y/n]?” Atsumu asks expectantly.
“Yes, actually, I did,” you reply, going back through the camera roll with a particular image in mind. You’re only vaguely aware of the warmth they exude as they budge into your personal space, the smell of sweat lingering on their skin. “Here.”
You’re particularly proud of this one. It had been a split second of pure luck, standing on the sidelines when a window of opportunity opened for a fast-tempo set. You had felt it – you knew Atsumu would set to Osamu, and as Osamu jumped, arm reared back as Atsumu sent the ball to him, you had captured it.
Somehow, you always get the timing right with them.
“Cool,” the twins approve proudly.
“Email that one to us, will ya?” Atsumu says. “I ain’t lettin’ you photography nerds hoard it away.”
“She’s sendin’ all these to Arata-senpai, ya dolt.”
“Hey, I wanna see!” Gintama breaks into your little group, trying to sneak a peek in. “Did ya get one of my spikes?”
“Yeah, how about my jump serve?”
“That super cool block me and Ren did in the second set!”
“Didja get one of Coach?”
One by one, the team gathers around you, eager for a glimpse of their successes. The crowding is uncomfortable, but you try your best to show them what you can anyway, feeling a rare sense of pride about your own accomplishments.
You’re happy with your choice.
Tsubaki will be a great manager. Even when you first met her, you knew she had everything she'd need for the job – a passion for the sport, a desire to help others succeed, and an endless amount of perseverance. Inarizaki couldn’t ask for a better person to replace Kobayashi next year. She’ll do well in what she’s decided to do.
And so will you.
—
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#haikyuu#hq#miya atsumu x reader#miya osamu x reader#miya atsumu#miya osamu#miya atsumu x reader x miya osamu#haikyuu fanfiction#reader insert#fem!reader#soulmate au#yeah i got carried away LOL#the miya twins giving themselves terrible dye jobs lives rent free in my head#atsumu's especially. i KNOW they screwed up with his#that color looks way too close to a bleach gone wrong on black hair and he just made it his brand for the rest of high school#this is spiraling i am spiraling#kobayashi i'll miss you i loved thinking you up#the five nonsenses
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From the start.
Pairing: Austin Butler x reader
Summary: Austin was excited to go to the Oscars and possibly win a reward still a part of him felt saddened by Lisa Marie's absence, sure Kaia there helped but when he saw you, it was like an angel sent by Lisa found him and he promises himself he wouldn't let you slip away, and he doesn't care who he has to hurt to get you.
Warnings: mention of Lisa Marie's death, Kidnapping, Friends to lovers? Housewife kink, Toy Dildo, Vaginal Plug, Creampies, Fingering, Oral (Fem & Male), Dirty talk, Double penetration, Stockholm syndrome, Infidelity, Starvation, Knife kink, Yandere/Dark Austin, Forced Marriage, Pillow talk, Mention of murder, Filming, Spiked drink.
A/n: this was requested by @presleybbg and her beautiful ideas.
All that Austin could remember was how much pain he was in, he felt like it was too soon to pretend everything was fine like he wasn't mourning. Lisa was like a second mother to him and like his real mother, she was gone too soon. He was getting ready for the Oscars, fixing his bow tie in the mirror and running his fingers through his hair "You sure you don't want me to come?" Kaia spoke up after watching him for a second, her voice filled with a little worried "I have to do this alone." he replied, "I got to go, see you soon." He kisses his girlfriend before leaving, he wanted to just get this over with.
After running the red carpet, he began the search for his seat. He sighed, walking around the small area where his seat would be but he was starting to think the person who told him where it was supposed to be was simply right, 'great' he groaned about to make his way back when a voice stopped.
He looked over his shoulder and his heart skipped a beat or two.
A woman waved eagerly to him with a smile "Over here!" she called and Austin follow her voice like a lost puppy "T-Thank you" he stuttered as he now stood in front of her "Your welcome." you smiled and walked past him just a little before he stopped you "let me thank you more? How bout some coffee or something?" he asked, pulling his hands in his pockets, trying to seem put together though everything wasn't, you looked him up and down, it wouldn't be bad right? And to be honest, it would be cool to have a rising new star as a friend "Okay, I'd like that Mr. Butler." you answered reaching your hand out for his phone "Here let me put my number in." Almost without absolute hesitation, he gave you his phone and you typed your number into his contacts "I'll see you around" you smiled "Good luck!" you called before disappearing into the crowd. All feelings of warmth are gone with you and the coldness that was there before returning, Austin still had a smile on, one that looked so real, he wasn't an amazing actor for nothing after all, the night proved to be long and fruitless. Sure Austin was happy for his fellow actor, but the only good thing that happened was he met his true soulmate, he eat with his girlfriend and her family that night, texting you under the table if you wanted to meet up tomorrow, smile growing bigger once you said yes.
Shortly after that coffee 'date' you and Austin became friends fast, dodging paparazzi like the Matrix, tonight you were gonna visit one of your favorite nightclubs, you weren't much of a party girl but it was fun to let loose, and besides Austin has been quite busy, he deserved a break. You decided on a thigh-length dress, the top of the dress was off-shoulder and a sequin silver, the skirt was a plain black, almost leather-looking material and you paired it off with sliver-colored heels with red bottoms, you did some light makeup and went in your way. The club bosted music, flashing lights, and grinding, sweaty bodies took up the space, your eyes searched for Austin, once your glaze glanced at the bar, there he was, shooting down what seems to be whisky, he leaned against said bar, he a green almost see through blouse that was unbuttoned down to the third button showing off his firm chest and a little of his torso, the shirt tucked in black jeans addressed his slim waist, rings and a sliver chain jeweled his body, to finish his look was dark green leather boots that looked more black in the light of the darkroom. As you checked out the handsome man, your tongue licked your lips without realizing it, and thoughts of how he would sound moaning, telling how good your lips felt around his cock stopped as his eyes looked up and met yours with a smile. He waved you over and turned to the bartender, holding two fingers to him before he looked back at you.
"Precious." he greeted, when you finally reached him, his raspy, deep voice granted your ears, and heat built up in your core from his little nickname for you. "Hey Aus, how are you this night?" you asked and sat on the stool beside him, grabbing the shot the bartender put in front of you, Austin looked away from your question before looking back at you with a sad haze, a frown on his enticing lips "Kaia and i..broke up." your eyes widen, you thought things were going good between the two "I'm sorry to hear that.." your heart ached for him "It's fine." he downed the shot of whisky, watching the people dancing showing off his capturing side profile. You didn't know if the alcohol in your system give you so much courage but you gently moved his head and kissed his plump lips, he didn't hesitate to lick your lips for access to your mouth, you did, and his tongue explored your mouth, battling your tongue with fervor. You pulled away and gripped his hand, rushing to the lady's restroom where you resumed the heated make out, your hands fumbled to unbuckle his belt, and once you slid it out of the hoops of his jeans, you hooked your fingers into his pants and underwear before dropping to your knees bring them down with you. His cock bounced against his stomach, it stood proud, long, and thick, the slit wept pre-cum so much it dripped on the tiles of the clean-smelling restroom, your lips engulfed his head, tongue swirling around the slit, tasting the not-so-bitter salt of his pre-come causing a delicious inhale from the man above, your month took inch upon inch until his member rested in your throat, your eyelashes flatter as you look into his blue orbs through them "Fucking damn!" he growled, his hands took hold of your head, he begins to thrust in and out of your throat, using it as his cocksleeve, fucking it like he would your slopping wet cunt, drool poured out your mouth, covering the base of his dick and his balls "Dirty girl, making such a mess on my cock." he grunted, your already wet underwear dripped your slick.
"Gonna cum, and you're gonna swallow isn't that right?" his voice deepened and looked down at you with a smirk. You nodded, moaning around his dick, body squirming in want and excitement, he cursed, head thrown back, his thrust quickened and with a deep groan, pushing his whole member back down your throat, pumping load after load, forcing you to swallow everything, You pulled back, breath heavy, and your saliva smeared across your chin "Let's get you cleaned up." Austin spoke softly as he helped you up, your knees shook for a bit before regaining their previous strength, he cleaned you up and bought you back to the party. Austin held onto your stumbling self to the door of your apartment, your keys already in his hand inserting them into the door knob but to his bewildered, the door shot open, and a man with 2000 hair, a band T-shirt, jeans, and a grey beanie. "Hey, you're Austin Bulter! I didn't believe my baby guess I was wrong, here let me help." the man's voice sounded like a teenager's voice but he was obviously 20 years old but was simply stuck in the 2000 style, "I'm Nathan by the way" 'Nathen' smiled and took you from Austin's arms, and lead you to the couch, Austin's nose wrinkled from the strong smell of weed on Nathen's breath and the room. Who was this man? Was he your boyfriend? This lame ass- bitch- ugly looking piece of shit was your boyfriend? No. No. He couldn't be. Austin held back a snarl as Nathen leaned down and kissed you this would do. Austin said a quick goodbye and derived home with white knuckles, he broke up with Kaia for you, and he didn't regret it of course, he spend the rest of the night thinking of what to do, getting no sleep. It was a few days when came up with a plan, it was wrong but he needed you, and you belonged to him you just don't know it yet, Austin slides into the open window, clad in black from head to toe, a backpack over his left shoulder, he looked back to the windows, oh precious girl didn't you know how dangerous that is? But don't worry it will change, he take good care of you and keep you safe.
Austin kneed down on your side of the bed you and your dick of a boyfriend slept in, he took a needle out of a safe plastic small bag, a fast-sleeping drug filled the glass medical needle, he gently pricked the side of your neck and pushed the drug into your veins.
"What the fuck!" Nathan screeched Austin simply looked at him with a smirk that spoke of danger.
Austin grunted as he carried you to his car, lay in his back seat, and then sat in the driver's seat he sighed, glancing at your sleeping form, he didn't want to get rid of your poor excuse ex-boyfriend, oh well it no use to get upset about spill blood. It took two-three months and a lot of patience, for you to fall for him, and five weeks to get you to trust him, he kept you well-fed, of course eating the food and drinking the water to show that it was okay, untampered with, after that was smooth sailing. Austin walked through the door of the house he shared with his love, the smell of clean products flowing around the enclosed air, leaving his shoes on the shoe rack, he followed the scent into the kitchen, and his cock stirred to life as he leaned against the kitchen's open door frame, you were simply wiping the stove down with an apron on, still lustful desires flow within him, just by you doing wife like duties, he had already made you his wife, with a friend's help you were married on a certificate, yet to have a wedding, he'll make that happen when the time was right. You had yelled and screamed at him once he revealed that certain knowledge to you, now though you were happy to be his wife. His fetching blue orbs stayed on your form like a man stoned by one of Medusa's glances, quietly he set the bag he brought on the island and walked behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his white Tank top from his recent photo shoot against your back "Why, Hello there precious." Austin smiled untieing your apron," I missed you." you spoke softly, turning around in his arms and allowing him to completely take off your favorite apron "I missed you too." he gently pecked your lips "I bought something we can have fun with, wouldn't you like that?" he said backing away and showcase the black plastic bag that read Spencer's on the front, you looked from the bag to your husband, if your core wasn't burning a scorching desire it was now, Austin's eyes were like a raging storm out in the open ocean with want, a mischievous smirk tugged at his lip, a hard bulge strained against its jeaned cage, you felt your cheeks grow heated as you nodded eye trained on the black baggie. Austin turned around and laid the items on the wooden island, "Come here baby." he called you over, stepping aside.
Your breath stopped, there sat a dildo that was roughly the size of your husband's length in the colors of glittery pastel blue, pink, and green with a pattern of tie-dye, beside it was a vaginal Plug the base color was black and was covered in royal purple paint splashes, the end was jeweled with amethyst and lastly, lube. Your pussy clenched around nothing thoughts of just what Austin could have in mind made your underwear soaked. "Undress precious. Slowly" Austin ordered, voice deeper with wanton dominance, resting his forearm on the wooden surface, your heart beat faster and you shredded each piece of clothing, pants, panties, shirt, and then bra all while trailing your hands on your body, the last article of your clothes dropped to the floor, and your lips locked together, his fingers squeezed your throat, enough to make you breathless and his rings cooled your feverish skin, your tongues swirled and licked crudely, the burning sensation lack of air pulled you both away, you look at each other, lidded eyes and panting. Austin took this time to truly appreciate your body "So goddamn beautiful." he breathed, helping you onto the kitchen countertop behind you, his lips latched on your neck as two of his fingers enters and pumps into your cunt roughly, his thumb rubbing at your clit with vulgar, a loud moan punched out of you as he began to scissor your pussy, stretching you open.
The edge of absolute paradise was ripped away, and you whimpered looking to Austin with betrayal "Patience." he chuckled, grabbing the lube and the over the top of the dildo "Open." he rested the rubber cockhead on your lips, slowly you part your lips and the toy, slides into your wet, hot maw, the rubber tasted like artificial strawberry, your eyes flattered close, the weight of the dildo was alike to your husband. You bobbed and sucked on it like it was, muffed moans and sounds of Austin's fingers fucking your weeping cunny "You like this baby? Sucking on a fake dick while I bring you to heaven and back?" Austin spoke in a trance as he watched you blow the toy like his first blowjob from you, you nodded sucking harder, your hips buck and your legs shook as your climax busted out. Austin gently pulled the colorful toy out then poured a generous amount of lube on it and his own "Ready?" he asked as he moved you to the cold tiled floor "I'm ready." you assured breathlessly, he rushed to push his jean, underwear completely and ripped his tank top off throwing somewhere to be picked up, you tried to relax as the toy dick was slowly pushed in, and Austin thrusted a back arching thrust, every inch of him was inside, his balls rest on the curve of your ass. The stretch was a sting burn, once your tense body relaxed, pangs of blissed-out pleasure shot throughout your body, and you felt so full! "Go." you smile as you saw the conflict on his face, "Yess." he hissed as he plowed into your cunt, each thrust forced the toy to box against your cervix, his balls wet from the lube and your juices, a wet smacking noise mixed with your loud moans, whines and Austins grunts, moans, and growls.
Your body jerked up, causing Austin's cock and the fake dick to come out little by little, Austin growled in frustration and slide you back to him, throwing your legs over his shoulders and holding down your thighs, resting them on his torso. He resumed pounding, your eyes rolled back, it was all too much the fast strokes of your husband's member up against the roof of your pussy while the dildo mini-strokes the bottom, his cum heavy balls spanking your ass no doubt leaving bruises from his hard treatment. Your legs began to shake, your back arching off the floor and your pussy gushing out your release Austin followed a little later, both of you gasped and panted for air, bodies covered in sweat, exhaustion heavy in the bones, you were on the edge of passing out when both lengths was pulled out, your eyes shot open and a whimper left your pouting lips "Sensitive." you muttered "I know precious, I just got to put this in you and I'll run us a bath." Austin chuckled as he gently put the plug in "Gonna need a wheelchair." you replied, his laugh was all you heard before you submitted to unconsciousness.
A week has passed since Austin had gone to another state to film, this was the first time he's been away for so long. The life before you had met him stuck in your mind like a core memory, being able to just go out to shop for simple things like grocery shopping and necessities, go to the park, and eat out, to feel the wind around you and the sun on your skin without asking for permission and being denied. You loved him, truly but the want, the desire become too much, and he would be gone for another week, so you packed a bag and some money and wrote a last goodbye note before escaping into the night. You couldn't go back home, despite the kidnapped you it would break your heart if he was arrested so you moved to another state away from California, far away. You got back on your feet, tried and failed to date no matter who you were with they weren't Austin, there was one time a man, a nice man fucked into you, he felt good but not like him, it didn't help that in the middle you moaned Austin's name, loudly. You decided that you were gonna go to a club, and you sat watching the crowd have the time of their life while the bartender made your order drink, your heart sped up for a second a split second you thought you saw Austin but when you glanced back he was gone, you shake your head and took a gulp of your drink before rushing to the restroom. You were listing your mind, he couldn't have found you this quick! It's only been three weeks, your classed the marble sink and looked up in the mirror, suddenly everything looked blurry and your head felt light, the last thing you heard was ladies' restroom door opening and footsteps then it went black.
You groaned as you came too, your head still felt fuzzy but not too much "Wakey, wakey precious." A familiar voice taunted venom laced, your eyes quickly opened "Austin." you muttered softly, Austin looked as good as he always had, though the closer you looked at him, he slightly had bags under his eyes, likely from searching for you "You know I thought everything was okay, I was happy, you were happy—well seemed to be." he hissed, his cold blues glared at you "I loved you. Did you even love me?" he asked, he started strong but at the end, his voice weakened "Of course I do!!" you reassured frantically, what have you done? "IF YOU DID YOU WOULDN'T HAVE RUN AWAY!!!" he screamed angrily, causing you to flinch, Austin sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, he got up and looked at you one last time before going. For two days you have been in the basement, without food or water, and yet you come to hate him, you missed more not that he was so close, you want to be in his arms, why did you leave? You had everything you could want, you perked out as you heard footsteps not before long Austin stood in front of you "Get up." he ordered, and you quickly obeyed "Fellow me." you followed him with your head down, was he gonna throw you? Was he done with you? Your heart ached at these thoughts, once you stepped out of the basement, the mouth-watering smell of food entered your nose "Go eat, I get you new clothes and run you a bath." he spoke, and in no time, you sat in down in the dining room and scarfed all the dish, drink all the water, you smiled, stomach full "it's ready" Austin said after finishing what he said he would do.
The warm water relaxed your tense muscles and the feeling of being completely clean, made you sigh with blissfulness, the clothes smell like roses and were soft against your skin, you were happy, and things almost seemed back to normal, almost.
Austin sat up against the backboard of the queen-sized mattress, his eyes boring into you, his phone and a knife on his bedside table "Strip and come here precious." he commanded, grabbing his phone, looking for something on it, you striped and hesitantly crawled on the bed stopping in front of him, slick already producing between your folds from the sheer dominance that radiant off your husband. He got off the bed and laid the phone beside the kitchen blade, he unbuckled his black belt, pushing his black jeans past his knees "Here's what's gonna happen, you are going to take what I give you and you're gonna like it, understand?" he pushed you to lay on the spot he was previously occupied, spread your legs and got in between them, his heavy member rest against your lips and clit "Answer." "Yes. I understand." Austin let out a pleased hum before grabbing his phone again and sliding right home inside of you, the stretch burned in the right way "Say hi to the camera." your eyes widen as his phone camera record your face and then shooting where you were one, he began to pound into you without remorse, his pubic bone smacked into your poor clit, the camera zoomed in recording, your cunt clenching hard on his cock almost slowing him down, growls and sexy huffs leave Austin no doubt enjoy your pussy, he fucked you as he missed it, the phone was suddenly was throw it to the side before grabbing the knife and held it to your neck, each jolt from his thrusting threatened to cut you, the feeling of the fear and danger of having such a dangerous woman that could hurt possibly end you filled you with excitement like a drug "Dose this turn my little wife on?" Austin chuckled darkly, moving the knife to your cheek, cutting a small line, a sharp hiss left you "Y-yes, so much!" you admitted, bucking your hips against his hips, Austin muttered a soft fuck and plowed you into the bed, pushing you both to the edge of pure paradise and bliss. You screamed as Austin stabbed the knife in the pillow beside your head, forcing an intense climax, Austin groaned as he pumped his cum into your weeping pussy.
"You. Are. Mine. Next, you try to leave I won't so nice." Austin pulled out of you and slammed the door on his way out, leaving you to your thoughts, his cum leaking out and the knife standing straight in the pillow. You sighed and closed your eyes, it would take some time for him to forgive you but you loved him, you need to show him that.
You sat up and walked through the door, planning on what would be done.
Taglist: @crash-and-cure, @plasticfantasticl0ver, @flwersgarden, @18lkpeters, @thegettingbyp2, @kendralavon7, @randomwhore4ever, @xstrengthxinxtragedyx, @depressedriches, @nayemendes, @livelaughelvis, @yynneessmon, @sunflower1990, @wolywolymoley, @pennyroyalcreep,@little-miss-naill, @arabellapresley, @satninangels @charlesswife, @austinbsblog, @richardslady121, @neptuneismysister, @misswede
#austin butler smut#austin butler x reader#yandere austin butler x reader#austin butler#austin butler imagine#austin x reader#austin butler x y/n#austin butler x you
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G/T Headcannons Pt. 2
More science/academia g/t headcannons I've been rotisserating in my noggin.
One student sneaks into the lab to sabotage their academic rival's experiment, but they end up shrinking themself by mistake. When their rival finds them, they present no empathy, only a malicious grin. They begin laughing and teasing their new tiny about their deserved fate. Ideally comes with any sort of fearplay or yandere behavior.
"I think I had better keep you all to myself. Now that you're byte-sized I can make sure you don't interfere with any more of my work."
Two personality opposites are paired up for a group project. One is a sizeshifter, who is struggling with random bursts of size change, and keeps dodging their group partner's texts and meet-up requests. Finally, the two agree to a late-night study session in a library study room. Just when they really start getting work done, the sizeshifter feels a growth spurt coming on quickly. As they try to leave, their group partner blocks the door and demands that they stay and finish the project ("No way. You're not gonna make me do this all by myself"). The sizeshifter can't hold back any longer, and suddenly they shoot up toward the ceiling, their limbs expanding all around the room. Their head bumps into the plaster ceiling as they beg their group partner to keep the door locked and not scream.
Bonus if it is actually a group of four people, and now these two have to keep the secret from the other two for the rest of the semester.
Bonus bonus, all three of the other group members are struggling with random size changes. The one human in the group gets fed up while they are all at their full size. The human points an accusing finger up at all three of their giant peers.
"I don't care what the fuck you people are. I am not doing this project all by myself goddammit!"
A human shows up to a club meeting on campus. After a few minutes, their mouth drops open in awe as they watch the people around them grow and shrink seemingly at will.
“Aren’t you a sizeshifter? This is the sizeshifter club…”
The human blushes crimson red.
“I…didn’t know what club this was I just heard there was free food.”
Instead of the “I used myself as a test subject for my theory,” what about “I used myself as a test subject for my crush's theory?” Out of a research team, the most junior member’s suggestions always get passed over, until a more senior researcher takes a hard look at their work. They realize that the newbie might be on to something, and set up an experiment on their own. Later that night, the newbie hears a knock at their dorm door. When they open up, a now ginormous research assistant squeezes inside, excitedly babbling on about how the newbie was right and their work was exactly what they needed. Meanwhile, the newbie is doubled over having a panic attack because now they have to hide a giant bag of weed AND a giant from their RA.
"Can't you just...shrink down and take my exam for me?"
"No, that's cheating."
"It's also...being a marvelous friend."
"Quit asking and start studying."
A sizeshifter and a human pair up for a hackathon. Whenever one is tired, the other drops them into their pocket for a quick nap.
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What’s in it for me?
Chapter 2/?
Chapter 1
Masterlist
Pairing: Kyouya Ootori x Reader
Author: see-the-fandom-imagines
Warnings: None at all.
Word Count: 2629
A/N: As mentioned before I take inspiration from anime and live-action, so I hope it isn't too confusing! :)
And yes, this is incredibly slow-burn, but hopefully worth it.Also I had to put this episode into two chapters, otherwise they'd have been too long. I know it's starting slow, but I got a few things planned for the next chapters, so stay tuned.
It had been a few weeks now since you had started helping out in the host club and on most days everything went down smoothly. You went to work twice a week and joined Haruhi in Music Room 3 on all other days. After a while everybody got used to you, the girls would ask you less questions about Haruhi you had to dodge and you had talked a little more with each one of the hosts. You didn’t mind coming in so often to be honest, mostly because it meant you could hang out more with Haruhi, but you had to admit, as crazy as the other hosts were, you soon realized that they were some of the nicest people you ever met. Well, some were nicer than others, but still. You had rarely felt that accepted anywhere this quickly.
“They’re back to their nonsense…”, Haruhi stated and you chuckled, carrying a tray full of green tea, when suddenly a bunch of girls surrounded her. “Haruhi-kun, you look so great in that kimono!”
“Yes, almost like a girl.”
You smiled at her. She really did look beautiful. But as always when the topic got even somewhat close to Haruhi being a girl a familiar voice interrupted.
“Haruhi, you've booked another appointment. It seems you've had a pretty steady flow of new customers lately. Keep up the good work.” Kyouya scribbled something onto a scroll while speaking. You wondered if he was actually writing or if that was just another useless prop. "I'm not going to charge you interest on your debt like I normally would, so keep this up and you should be able to pay it off. Although the rental fee on that kimono you're wearing is nothing to sneeze at.” He smiled sweetly, and all the girls seemed captivated by it.
“Kyouya-sama”, one girl spoke up and you rolled your eyes.
“You’re just too much in that kimono!”
He took that compliment gracefully as you sighed and walked past, just trying to get out of the situation. “Oh, but why didn’t you get one, (y/n)-chan?” Surprised you looked up. A girl with dark brown hair had appeared in front of you, looking up at you with big eyes. "I bet you would look really cute in one, too." Did she blush? "Oh, well, I-"
“Because she is not an official member”, Kyouya’s voice rang out without missing a beat and you simply chuckled dryly, looking down at your usual school uniform.
“Ah, that’s true”, another girl noted, absolutely dazzled the second the older guy spoke up.
“Let’s not talk about the rental fee…”, you murmured a tad too loud, so that Kyouya would definitely hear you, but the girls just kept on blabbering something about picture books. Somehow it didn’t even surprise you anymore that Kyouya sold secret photos of all of the hosts. You kept on listening, while putting down a cup of tea infront of another girl. But maybe you could use that to your advantage.
“Hey, Kaoru”, you yelled, waving the twin in your direction.
“Just Kaoru?”, Hikaru spoke up and followed suit, taking one of the tea cups from your tray. You had known he'd follow in a flirty mood if you just mentioned his brother. Kaoru didn't react this strongly. Carefully you took out your mobile phone from your pocket with your free hand.
“What is it, (y/n)”, Kaoru said, smiling at you, bending over so he could look into your eyes, but your gaze was fixed on your phone. You held out the tray for him, so he'd take the other tea cup, before placing the now empty tray on a random couch. “I just wanted to bring you some tea”, you said, smiling at him. He didn’t quite seem to believe you and his gaze fell on the phone in your hand. “Do you want my number?”
You smiled. That wasn’t quite what you had in mind, but, “yes, if it’s alright with you?” Hikaru appeared on his brother’s side.
“How unfair, what about me?” “I want your number, too, of course. I thought now that we are friends, we should be able to contact each other, no?”
Minutes later you sat down in front of Kyouya, sighing, playing with your phone. He didn’t even look up. “Is it time for your break, yet?”, he asked, but you chose to ignore that question. You lowered your phone, before bending over the table a little, trying to make eye contact.
“Instead of making me carry stuff, let me help you with that”, you said, pointing at his scroll and the tablet that was hidden underneath a cloth. Only now did he look up and raised an eyebrow.
“What? I might as well help out in a way that’s a little more useful, no?”
Kyouya still didn’t seem convinced. You sighed.
“You need photos to sell, but only got random blurry pics, correct?”
“Yes”, he said. “You think you can sell them?”
“Not quite”, you said. “But you need photos, no?”
Kyouya finally put down his scroll. You had successfully caught his interest. “So you’re saying you can deliver pictures of all hosts that are good enough to sell?”
“Better”, you smirked and lifted your phone.
Kyouya looked at the picture you had just taken of him, entirely without him noticing. It wasn’t the most professional picture ever, but it was also not blurry and it looked weirdly natural.
“It looks like we’re on a date”, you exclaimed happily, but hushed your voice as you noticed some girls reacting to what you had just said. Kyouya seemed irritated at first but then began to understand.
“Scroll through”, you told him, and he did. “Pictures of the twins”, you explained unnecessarily. “Look me in the eye and tell me those don’t look like the pics a girlfriend would take.”
Kyouya smiled, before looking back up at you. That was smart. And no one had even noticed, which would make the pictures even easier to sell, since none of the other hosts would complain too much. You were really quite something. Maybe he had underestimated you, not that he would ever admit to that.
You saw the sparkle in his eyes and grinned confidently. For a moment the both of you were just looking at each other, trying to read each others expressions or even minds, if possible, when suddenly you were interrupted by Tamaki shouting out random things again a little louder than he should have.
Kyouya broke the eye contact and sighed. He got up, trying to see what that was about, but not without giving you a quick nod to signal you, that your talk wasn’t over yet.
"Damn it", you cursed, but got up as well, following Kyouya towards the commotion. The twins and Tamaki were greeting a girl that had partially hidden behind the door. She seemed shy. A new customer? You instantly felt a little bad for her, having not only the twins, but also Tamaki approach you, could be too much for most people. Especially since Tamaki obviously had activated his princely charm. “Please, you don't have to be afraid, my Princess. I welcome you to the Ouran Host Club.”
But the new girl didn’t hesitate. Before he could even finish talking she pushed him away, screaming loudly. “NO! Don't touch me! You're phony!” Tamaki stumbled back, holding his face in his dramatic fashion. “Wh-What do you mean, phony?”, he asked but she didn’t let him down easily. You had definitely underestimated her. That girl was everything but shy.
“Just what I said, you're phony! I find it hard to believe that someone like you is the Prince character of this Host Club! You shouldn't go spreading your love around so easily like that, you stupid!" Wow, she really kept going. "You must be a dimwitted narcissist! You're incompetent! You're a commoner! You're disgusting!" You waited a second to see if she was done, but had watched in awe as she kept insulting the self-proclaimed king of the club.
Tamaki fell down, the other hosts watching him, concerned. Ouch. That hurt. Even Kyouya stepped closer, but only took a brief look at Tamaki, before he turned around to the girl. Realisation hit his features. “Could you be…”
Surprised you watched his expression change, before you heard the girl scream again: “Kyouya-sama!”
She ran towards him, pushing you out of the way and making you stumble backwards. Kyouya saw you fall, but he couldn’t react fast enough, for the strange girl had wrapped her arms around his waist. Thankfully, the next thing you felt wasn't the hard floor, but a pair of arms holding you, right before you would have collided with the floor. “Thank you, Senpai", you smiled up at Mori, who carefully helped you back to your feet. Your gaze shifted back to Kyouya who had instinctively lifted his hands, trying very hard not to touch the strange girl. Surprised you looked from him down to her, and back up to him. His gaze met yours and he looked like he wanted to say something, but she interrupted. “Oh, how I've longed to meet you! My one and only Prince Charming.” For the first time since you had started in this host club, you were entirely out of words.
----
“Fiancee?”, the twins yelled in unison. “Kyouya’s?”
“Yes”, she confirmed. You kept staring at Kyouya, who had remained silent the entire time. “Kyoyas fiancée”, you repeated, the word left a bitter taste in your mouth. "Did you know about this?", you asked Haruhi, who sat next to you, looking at least as confused as you were. "I had no idea", she whispered back, before the new girl continued to speak.
“I am Renge Hoshakuji”, she introduced herself, but you still only stared at Kyouya. Was he really engaged? Maybe all those dramas were right and rich young kids did get engaged by their parents. Or did they choose to get married? No, that couldn’t be, the way he had lifted his arms as she hugged him really didn’t seem like they were deeply in love with each other. If that was even an emotion Kyouya could feel.
“Ours is a story of love at first sight! I couldn't resist the way you were adoring those flowers in the backyard when you thought no one else was looking. And how sweet it was when you reached out to that poor little injured kitten.”
“Is she serious”, the twins asked.
“Could it be that you got the wrong person?”, Haruhi added.
You still looked at Kyouya who finally realized your penetrating gaze and looked at you, face unreadable.
“No way! I can recognize my love any where! He's a gentleman who's kind to everyone but doesn't ask for anything in return! He likes solitude but in fact sometimes he can get lonely!”
The twins started yelling in the background, loudly expressing the confusion you all felt. That really did not sound in the slightest like Kyouya. Did he lead a secret life none of you knew about? You thought for a second, before you decided to speak up, also to hopefully calm down the twins a little.
“If you’re engaged, why have you never met?”, you asked, and it worked. Everything went silent and the hosts looked surprised. “What?”, you asked. “Isn’t that obvious? She obviously needed a while to even recognize him and that description… No offense, but that’s not Kyouya.”
“None taken”, he said, seeming almost pleased that his reputation hadn't suffered too much from her words.
“She is right”, Hikaru started. “But it is quite common to get engaged without meeting the partner.”
Your mouth formed a small 'o' and you looked at Kyouya, furling your brows. He noted your expression and couldn’t help but wonder what you were thinking. Were you … worried?
Renge didn't even give anyone else the chance to react, though, because she almost immediately resumed speaking as if she hadn't listened to a single word either of you were saying. “He looks like the star of the popular dating sim Uki Doki Memorial! You're my real life Ichijo Miyabi!” She pointed at Kyouya, and suddenly the coin dropped.
"Uki ..." "... Doki ...” “Memorial?”
“Otaku!”, yelled Tamaki and the others followed suit.
“I get it now”, Kyoya spoke up, “you're in love with that character. You're projecting that love onto me, and somehow deluded yourself into thinking that we're engaged. I assume this Miyabi character probably wears glasses as well.”
“Ah my real Prince Charming! Ichijo Miyabi! I can't wait to get married! And we're gonna have the prettiest babies ever!” You felt the sweat drop from your forehead. Now she was already talking about babies.
“So she made iit up, you’re not really her fiancé, right?”, Tamaki stated and Kyoya shook his head.
“Well no, I don't remember ever asking for her hand in marriage." He thought for a while. "Besides, this is the first time I've ever met the woman.”
Everybody stopped dead in their tracks, glaring at Kyouya angrily. Including you.
“You could have mentioned you weren’t engaged ages ago”, you yelled at him, mad that he had made you worried in the first place.
You sighed angrily and looked away. “I was worried”, you whispered, but Renge interrupted you again and this time you let her push you out of the way.
You trained your eyes on the ground, not really knowing why all of this bothered you so much in the first place. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “He really could have said so sooner”, Kaoru said, squeezing your shoulder slightly while rolling his eyes and you smiled up at him. He must have heard you. "Thanks", you whispered, and Kaoru blushed a little, but kept his hand where it was. "Really, the last person you should ever worry about is Kyouya", he continued, making you chuckle. He grinned at you, before his brother caught his attention again. For a moment you thought about just leaving, but Renge was already back in action.
Kyoya had gotten up, too, seemingly to get his notebook, but something told you he just wanted to bring some distance between him and her without seeming rude.
He stopped next to you as Renge finished her monologue. “I've made up my mind! From now on, I'm gonna be the manager of this host club!”
Everybody sighed.
“That was an option?”, you whispered.
Kyouya shrugged. “You didn’t ask for that position.”
You shot him another unbelieving glance, before you got up, now feeling the need to bring a little distance between him and yourself. A bit overwhelmed, you decided to step next to Haruhi. Maybe she could help you feel a little more sane around here. “Is it always like this?” She sighed, watching the scene unfold infront of her. “Mostly, yeah.”
Tamaki joined your corner and stepped inbetween Haruhi and Kyouya. He obviously was just as taken aback by the sudden attack of the lady manager. “Uhm, listen, Kyouya…”, he started, but got interrupted almost immediately. “Miss Houshakuji is the only daughter of a very important Ootori family client", Kyouya explained with a smile. "So please be polite and try not to offend her alright?” You scoffed which earned you a reprimanding glance from the host club's director. But you didn't care and instead just looked away and decided to take care of your tea again. You really didn’t feel like acting like a clown for some random girl popping in and pushing herself on everybody like that. You picked up your tray and some empty tea cups. She had just waltzed in here, claiming Kyouya was her fiancé and that she'd be the club's new manager. You felt a pang of jealousy in your chest. Probably because of the manager thing. A tea cup fell out of your hand. You stared for a moment at the shards on the ground, before you sighed and began picking up the broken fragments. That would cost you at least a 1.000 Yen. Silently, you continued cleaning up, not feeling Kyoyas observant eyes on your back.
Chapter 3
#ootori kyouya x reader#kyouya ootori x reader#ootori kyoya x reader#kyoya ootori x reader#kyouya x reader#kyouya ootori#ootori kyouya#ootori kyoya#ohshc#ohshc x reader#tamaki suo#hikaru hitachiin#kaoru hitachiin#hikaru#mori#takashi morinozuka#mitsukuni haninozuka#ouran x reader
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by dear @socially-awkward-skeleton <3
Writing taglist (to be added/removed): @vivilovespink @scentedcandleibex @darialovesstuff @confidentandgood @spacestephh @takiisieju-moved @cyberneticsanguinaire @inafieldofdaisies @carlosoliveiraa @shegetsburned @bloody-arty-myths @zoetheneko @hi-thisiszira @admin-pipes @mitsuko-saito @malewifefirestar @krysta-cross @huepazu @cassietrn @breakfwest @nightbloodbix @middlechildwhoescapedthebasement @ninibear3000 @cyb3r-v4l @aceghosts @sinclxirx @gavincruikshanksexhusband @voidika @orbitinytheworld @strangefable and anyone else that has smth to share
This is a drabble that takes place a while after Ombra’s first day in Black Dragon. Ombra goes there just to see Alex ( @chadillacboseman ) again, and analyze him a bit more. Also, she meets Alora ( @bihanspookies ). This is not proof read!
It was worth it to encounter Kano so uncomfortably often just to see him for a few minutes. Alex Demir was making me more and more curious each day. He was handsome for sure, and also charming in his own way, but those kind eyes looking at me so cheerfully and that toothy smile which belonged to a baby boy, they did not belong to this mess of a fight club.
I put my hands in my pants’ pockets, and watched General Argen dodging a woman’s poweful punches and kicks. Argen happily followed me and insisted on fighting all day in the cage; just like a toddler going to the amusement park with his mother. The savage crowd around the fighting cage were ripping their throats apart by their endless screamings.
I scanned them from where I was standing - away in the shadows -, hoping to catch a glimpse of Alex. I would not miss that messy bun and headband, and of course, that height. But apparently, he wasn’t there.
I turned on my heels to go for a walk around the club; all around it. That was the main reason I came here in the first place, and that very motovation blooming in me made me nervous. From the first second Argen and I entered the portal to Earthrealm I kept reminding myself that this would pass. I would analyze him, his behavior and who he actually was, and I would erase him from my mind. The only reason that dragged me all the way from Metalrealm to Black Dragon was his Turkish accent, not his cute jokes and the way his pretty eyes gleamed when he looked at me… .
No! No, no, no, no, no!
I stood still. I was obeying my emotions.
“There you are, Ms. Ironhead.” A feminine voice called, a little bit lost in the distant yellings and deafening music. Her auburn hair was neatly braided, and the sleeveless turtleneck highlighted her well trained muscles.
“Alex and I heard that you have paid us another visit. He’s looking for you, I guess. He was thinking that he could use your help with that new explosive he’s crafting. And I have found you now. Guess I’ve done a big favor for him.” The woman explained.
Despite her implied humor, he intense blue eyes were daggers to my own.
I nodded. “Thank you.” And I started walking again.
“Nice jaw, by the way.” She threw a compliment in a totally monotone voice.
I rose my hand in appreciation, then immediately made a turn, and the increasing volume of the noises was reduced dramatically. I dashed in the corridor untill I reached the stairs. I flew upstairs, passed a corridor, and made another turn. My heart was booming in my chest.
#wip wednesday#ombra the ironhead#alex demir#mk alora#mk oc#mortal kombat oc#ironheart#ship: you feel like home
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