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lol-im-done · 6 months

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First Lady of Panem

Pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: When your family arrived to the Capitol from District Ten to secure their place as one of the most prominent and wealthy families of Panem you could have never dreamed fate would lead you into the arms of Coriolanus Snow. Falling in love was easy, watching him become President and becoming First Lady of Panem at his side would test your limits. Panem's history would forever be changed by this union.

AO3 Link

Author's Note: TW & Tags will be updated as each chapter comes out, first chapter is just to set up the story & characters. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Sky Blue Eyes

Those bluebonnets how sweetly they grow

For all the wide prairies they're scattered like snow

They make all the meadows as blue as the skies

Reminding me of my darlings blue eyes

The cow-filled prairies shifted to mountains signaling the train's entrance into District Two as you hummed to the tune of an old song from before Panem’s creation. The sprawling grass sea of District Ten, of your home, disappeared in the distance as you made your way to the heart of Panem.

“Darling, are you listening to me?”

Lifting your head from the rattling window you turned to see your mother looking at you with soft concern.

“Sorry Mama, what were you asking?”

Her hand smoothed over your younger sister Mellona’s curls, making her nuzzle deeper into her side. “I was asking if you were hungry so I could order lunch.”

“That would be nice Mama. Thank you.”

“Alright, call for Agnes if you need anything she’s in the next car,” your mother stands, lays a snoozing Mellona down, before making her way to the dining car.

“Homesick already?” Victoriosa, the eldest, asks from the chaise never taking her eyes off the magazine in her hands.

“Is it that obvious?”

“We always knew we’d have to move to the Capitol.”

“Why now? I thought at least another year or two,” you asked, sinking into the plush leather seat. Victoriosa pauses, looks up at you and for an instant you can see your father’s intense expression staring back at you.

“Papa wants to finally establish himself as a prominent figure in the Capitol. He needs Capitol support if he is to fully absorb the rest of the ranches, you know that,” she states. “This is also our opportunity to reach our full potential, choose our own paths. Once you finish your career you can always return to Ten if you wish but that would be a waste,” she returns to flipping through her magazine.

“Silva, what do you think?” you turn to your only brother who is seated next to you.

He gives a short shrug. “I don’t mind it much as long as I can continue my research,” Silva sighs from behind his thick textbook.

Victoriosa tilts her lithe neck backwards, “Yawnnnnn.” A snort leaves your lips and you’re grateful your mother isn’t nearby to reprimand you for your ‘unladylike’ behavior.

“Biodiversity is the pinnacle of our success as cattle breeders!” Silva scowls.

“I thought you’d be missing a certain milkmaid Carpathia,” Victoriosa smirks and a wild blush spreads under Silva’s glasses.

“Oh like you’ll be missing your ranch hand Bronco,” Silva snaps back.

“There’s always summertime. Plenty of time to catch up,” Victoriosa grins like the cat who got the cream. The three of you burst into a fit of giggles right as Mellona groggily rouses from her nap.

“Are we there yet?”

Another burst of laughter fills the private train car.

It would only take a few more hours before you arrived at the Capitol train station, nightfall falling over the city. Unlike District Ten, not all the stars were visible, the Capitol’s bright lights polluting the sky. Peacekeepers were already stationed to help move all the luggage into the waiting line of cars. Driving through the streets towards your new home, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the statues in the squares and the towering buildings. Most of all you were excited to finally see your father, it had been almost a month since you had seen him last.

“Papa!”

All of you crashed into Alicio Lupus’ awaiting arms, his rumbling chuckle bouncing off the high marble ceilings of the penthouse. Refugio joins in on the hug with teary eyes, reaching up to press a kiss on her beloved husband’s cheek.

“Welcome home my darlings,” he squeezes you all tighter. Any fear you held disappeared in an instant, as long as you had your family by your side, all would be well.

The first few weeks in the Capitol had been a whirlwind- meeting other Capitol families for dinner, registration for coveted internships and school courses, and endless shopping trips to assure your home and wardrobes were up to Capitol standards. Refugio Lupus wanted only the best for her children, which included constantly coaching you all to leave behind the District Ten accent that made certain words in your vocabulary drawl.

After dinner one day you thought you had finally caught a moment of peace before a knock at your door startled you from your book. Agnes, your family's nanny, rolled in a rack of dresses with Victoriosa in tow. Victoriosa was already dressed in a sleek blood red dress with a mink shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

“What’s all this?”

“We’ve been invited to a soirée to commemorate the end of the 13th Hunger Games. Papa thinks it’s a good chance to introduce us to others in the Capitol’s high society,” Victoriosa swept her arm towards the rack of glittering and ruffled dresses. Nerves made your stomach churn, mouth turning downwards into a frown as you remembered people’s faces this past week when it was revealed you had recently arrived from District Ten. Most look startled before looking at you like you were some exotic bird at the zoo.

“They’ll never accept us.”

A prideful look crossed her face, so similar to your father’s. No wonder your mother said they were cut from the same stone. “They will once we show them we are as refined as they are. As long as you lose that accent of yours you’ll blend in like a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” she grinned, canines glinting in the light of the chandelier. Rolling your eyes you step over to the rack, feeling the fabrics under your fingers. Stopping at a silver dress, the sequins twinkled like stars entrancing you. Agnes helped dress you before getting to work on sweeping your hair up into a fashionable updo. You waved away the highly pigmented makeup, not ready to delve into that side of Capitol fashion quite yet.

“Remember you’re a Lupus. We’re wolves among sheep,” Victoriosa pinches your cheek. The usual calluses that adorned her hands were gone, chemical treatments making them a long forgotten memory.

Wolves among sheep.

Victoriosa’s words replay through your head like a mantra as you step into the grand ballroom behind her and your father. Thankfully your sister was a gifted extrovert, introducing you to the friends she had already made. Soon you found yourself surrounded by members of the new Gamemaker class, a glass of posca in your hand. It took some time but slowly your shoulders loosened and your smile widened, confidence making you stand a bit taller.

Across the ballroom, Coriolanus Snow was repeating his own mantra to himself- Snow always lands on top. A reminder that showing up for another Capitol soirée wasn’t simply a waste of time but another way to show all these sycophants how high he had made it. Now heir to the Plinth fortune he was dressed impeccably. Tigris had helped style him, no more handmade shirts, and the final touch- Grandma’am’s rose pinned to his lapel. Like at most parties he was surrounded by his former classmates who were all desperate to remain in his inner circle- he was an esteemed Gamemaker after all. A glimmer in the distance caught his eye, distracting him from the meaningless chatter before him. He recognized the group as intern Gamemakers but not the young woman, fresh faced and glowing in the candlelight.

“Who is that?” Coriolanus feigned nonchalance as he tilted his head towards her.

Festus Creed followed his gaze, “Don’t you know?”

“How could he know? The Lupus Family only recently decided to establish here in the Capitol,” Pup Harrington said in between bites of hors d'oeuvres. The name rang a bell, stories and information from his various connections coming to mind.

“I believe that’s (Y/N) Lupus. I saw her the other day with her father, Alicio Lupus, at my mother’s bank” Livia Cardew said, inching closer to Coriolanus. “They practically own all the ranches in District Ten, Alicio Lupus’ brother is the Mayor of the District,” Livia whispered, lips coming close to his ear. Festus and Pup exchange an eye roll at her shamelessness and Coriolanus resisted the urge to shrug her off. Offending a Cardew would never bode well.

“She’s district, probably going back and forth from Ten to the Capitol like one of her family’s pigs,” Livia giggled, but it sounded like grating metal in Coriolanus’ ears.

“Don’t forget cows! Oh Panem, I dream about those steaks-,” Pup practically salivated.

“Imagine living all your life in that District, like poor Sejanus,” Festus tutted. Coriolanus immediately bristled at the mention of Sejanus, his icy blue eyes darkening like an impending storm. Festus must have realized his mistake because his eyes widened, apology on the tip of his tongue before Coriolanus cut him off.

“I should go make her acquaintance then,” he announces, ignoring Livia’s scowl. It was an opportune moment he thought as you now stood by the bar alone. Perhaps you would be desperate enough to try and get in his good graces, and offer to introduce him to your father. Coriolanus would be a fool not to recognize the Lupus family’s wealth and influence, they kept the Districts fed and the Capitol fat. Any potential relationship he could make was more support he could need when he would take a position in the Government.

As you took another swig of posca, you thought you had managed to escape more social interactions for the night until a voice made you jump.

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus Snow. Welcome to the Capitol.”

Turning around you looked up at the man’s captivating eyes, as blue as the sky back home. His pink lips curled slightly at the ends as if he was holding in a secret. Blonde hair pushed back in a neat fashion, accentuating his cheekbones. For a moment you were speechless. Remembering yourself, you gave him your name but you had a feeling he already knew it.

“Pleasure to meet you Coriolanus Snow.”

His stomach swooped. Coriolanus swore he heard a familiar lilt in your voice, but it was not as strong as Lucy Gray’s and those in District Twelve. No, yours was smoother and made your pronunciation of his name sound like it was dipped in warm honey.

“How are you finding the Capitol?”, he forces himself to ask, to ignore those dangerous thoughts.

“It's something...definitely not like back home,” you look around at the extravagant decor.

“Ah yes, District Ten. I’ve never made my way there but I’ve heard wonderful things,” the lie flows smoothly past his lips. “How grateful you must feel to finally be brought to us.”

Coriolanus would never miss a chance at making anyone District born feel inferior, all the posca he had been drinking making him loose lipped tonight. Indignation made your hands tingle, but you took a deep breath and clenched the glass tighter in your hands to ground you.

“I’m surprised you weren’t assigned there as a Peacekeeper. I suppose wherever the songbird called from you followed,” you replied, taking a demure sip from your glass, relishing in the way his jaw tensed. You knew who he was, his story with Lucy Gray Baird. Victoriosa had heard it all from a friend and had no qualms in passing the gossip down to you. If he was going to throw thinly veiled insults you’d have to show him you wouldn’t take them lying down.

“There’s that famous Lupus bite I’ve heard about,” he grins, taking a step closer to you. The scent of roses fills your nose, the sudden proximity to him making a blush rise up your neck. His hand reached out, moving to push a piece of hair behind your ear but the moment was broken when Victoriosa called out for you, pointing to your father who was making his way out the doors.

“If you’ll excuse me it’s time for me to get home. I’m sure our paths will cross again,” you murmured softly, dipping your head in farewell. Coriolanus stepped back with a slight bow, eyes never straying from your figure as you sauntered away. Oh yes, like two stars crossing in the night sky, you would meet again. Coriolanus would make sure of it.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas

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dat-town · 9 months

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met you like destiny

never seen circus masterpost

Characters: Jiung & psychic!female reader

Setting & genre: magical realism au

Summary: You know the rules: you shouldn’t interfere with the future you see. This time, you can’t help though.

Warnings: general creepiness of an eerie circus, ambiguous ending, mentioned foreseen death, i know nothing about tarot and it probably shows, sorry

Words: 2.8k

For @restlessmaknae, happy D-3 <3

There are several rules to what you are doing for living:

Don't lie but speak as vaguely as possible. Details only cause problems.

Don't try to foresee your own future, it would only mess with your grasp on reality.

No matter what you see, you should never, under any circumstance, get involved.

You don't know if these are actual rules per se, but your mother taught you these from a young age when you had first shown signs of talent to tarot and crystal readings. Your family came from a long line of renowned psychics and she had been doing this for decades. She must have known it better. Not that it had stopped you from joining the circus even though she had told you not to. You had always been too proud and you hadn't wanted to live in her shadows forever. Nothing better to get your name known than a circus nobody remembers, huh? Nobody but those who were also part of your world at least.

Before joining the circus, despite having your mother and granny around who could understand you because they had gone through the same thing, you still felt alone. You felt like you were the odd one out, that one weird kid in town. But here? You were just like anybody else or even so ordinary-looking that visitors often confused you with other spectators, not taking you as a psychic even if you wore all black and chokers with pentagrams. Here, you felt normal.

The good kind of invisible because you never wanted to stand out but sometimes, the not so good kind, too.

"Sorry," the boy who bumped into you apologised right away even though you were pretty sure his loudly enthusiastic friends who dragged him along were more at fault. Still, you appreciated the sentiment.

"It's okay," you told him, not looking him in the eyes. Eyes held so much after all, so much history, so much of their soul. You didn't want to deal with all that when you weren't working, it was for the better like this. Brief encounters like this should have passed by like the wind.

You were about to continue your walk down the road to your favourite street food stall when the group called after you.

"Actually… can you help us?"

You hesitantly stopped and turned back, signalling that you were listening. Promises were dangerous things, you knew better than to be careless with them. Even if it was something as simple as offering your help.

"Do you know where to find a fortune teller? We want to know how long the birthday boy will be single," the one with the turquoise hair said while the one who had apologised to you looked like he would have rather been anywhere else. He must have been the aforementioned birthday boy then. No wonder he had to be dragged.

"Hm, if you are curious about your love life, I'm sure Madame Jihye would gladly assist you," you told them because you might have been able to see the future too but love wasn't your expertise. Your prophecies were usually more on the darker side.

"Her tent is next to the siren aquarium," you pointed in its general direction, quickly glancing at the three boys.

"Thank you," two of them singsonged, giddy, while the third muttered it shyly. They walked away and your gaze followed their figures until they disappeared at the corner.

You thought that you saw the last of them then and went along your way. You chit-chatted with Mr Lee about his daughter because even if he said he was fine, his eyes couldn't lie. Still, thanks to him you walked back to your tent with a pouch full of your favourite salty pretzel. You flipped the closed sign to an open one by the entrance and took a deep breath from the lavender-scented air. Your visitors often asked if it helped with your 'visions' as they called it but honestly, you just liked it. Not everything had to have a practical reason.

But something was off.

You could feel the energy around you being different. As if you weren’t alone. You looked around slowly, putting your things down on your table, gaze shifting from one lit candle to another, the smoke machine still working in the corner but one of the flames extinguished. Then hiding from behind your tent’s carmine, folded material you saw a Converse peeking out.

“You should come out,” you spoke up in a firm voice. “Until I’m asking nicely.”

Not that you were that scary. But people were often intimidated by your apparently cold aura and stern looks. You were a psychic, not a witch but not many knew or cared enough to know about the differences, so you could threaten anybody with a nice curse for breaking into your tent like that.

But the boy stepping out from between the loose material, looked more like a lost kitten than anything. Oh. He was the boy from before, the tall, lanky one with short hair. Only now, in the candlelit surroundings of your tent did you notice that his hair was silver with a hint of purple and you couldn’t help but wonder whether him dying his hair was like him being in the circus: being dragged to do so.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to intrude," he spoke up sheepishly, his voice just as nice as you remembered. You didn’t soften up just yet though.

"What are you doing here?" You asked as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"Hiding."

The corner of your mouth twitched in amusement.

"From your friends?"

"Yeah," the boy sighed and lifted his gaze from the ground to look at you. Quickly, you looked away as you busied yourself with a match and lighting the unlit candle.

"Didn't like the visit to Madame Jihye?" You inquired, almost conversationally, as if you were friends even though you were nothing but strangers.

"I don't really believe in all this," your sudden visitor awkwardly waved his hands, looking around in your tent. You didn’t take it as an offence, the supernatural wasn’t for everybody and they had the right to have their own beliefs, to see the world and its strange occurrences differently. "But Keeho and Intak were too hyped when we stumbled upon a circus to pass it by. I just went along with it."

“I guess you didn’t like it then,” you answered your own question with a little hum. It happened. More often than people would have liked to admit. The harsh truth was often harder to accept than a pretty lie.

“She told me that my first love will be tragic. You can imagine my friends’ dramatic reaction,” the boy sighed and even though you didn't know them at all, based on your singular encounter and his previous comments, you had an idea how the other two guys reacted to that. Still, was it a good enough reason for him to hide in your tent of all places?

“I’m Jiung by the way,” the boy said, polite as ever, like it mattered even though you most likely wouldn't see each other again. You didn't answer, names held power as well after all but the boy didn't give up so easily. He probably wanted an excuse to stay longer. “So are you like… working here?”

“Yeah, I do tarot readings,” you spread your hands over your table as you sat down, fingers drumming on the black and gold pack of cards, a one of a kind one, commissioned by you.

You learned crystal reading too from your mother and Madame Jihye taught you how to read palm or from tea leaves, but you usually opted for tarot. It felt the most familiar to you because while the messages hidden in anything else felt like anagrams and riddles waiting for you to figure them out, tarot was like reading a book to you.

“Aren’t you lonely here?”

It was a sudden question. A blurted out weird one. You certainly didn't expect that. It wasn't usually what people wondered about when they learned about your work at the always moving circus.

It was so unexpected that you looked up, eyes widening. Your gazes met for the first time. It felt like a shimmer in the air. Suddenly, it felt like deja vu, like you knew him even though you were sure you had never met before.

“Why would I be? New people come all the time and the circus is kind of like a family,” you protested more defensively than you had realised beforehand. Maybe it was because there was something about his eyes. They looked at you like he saw right through you.

"You can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely," Jiung added quietly and you didn't understand. Why did he sound so worried when he didn't even know you? Why did he sound like he cared?

There was silence then, you didn't have a good retort to that. Maybe you were lonely, sometimes, but it was okay. You had grown familiar with solitude over your school years. What good would it have done if you had people too close to you? You liked to live your life the way you wanted too much to be dragged to places like he had been by his so-called friends. Or maybe it was just a defence mechanism but you didn’t care enough to unpack that.

So silence it was. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. You sat by your desk, finishing the rest of your pretzel not bothering to pretend to be a good host to somebody who came unasked and unexpected and the boy didn’t bother to call you out on that. He seemed rather interested in the interior of your tent instead. He looked over your crystals and tea leaves and gilded cups with utmost interest but wasn’t rude enough to touch them without asking. You could almost tell when his curiosity peaked before he turned to you.

“Can you do a reading for me?”

“I thought you said that you don’t believe in this,” you reminded him, amused, shuffling cards lazily in your hands.

“I’m not. Not really. But I’m curious about what you see in my future,” Jiung said and that was fair. He sounded genuine and you appreciated his honesty, so you gestured at the seat across from you.

“Okay, sit down,” you told him before giving one last shuffle to the black and gold tarot cards in your hands and once the boy was seated, you spread them out in front of him. “Think about what you would like to know more about and once you have asked that question in your head, choose five cards from the deck and put them down in a cross pattern, in any order you feel like without looking at the cards’ face side.”

For somebody who didn’t believe in esoterics, Jiung looked pretty intrigued by the procedure. He followed the instructions well, not hesitating much to choose cards but not half-assing it either by grabbing five next to each other. Once the five cards were in a nice 3 x 3 form with one card at the cross point, you gathered the rest of the deck and put them away.

You glanced at the boy’s face while you let your fingertips hover above his choices, sensing their energy. You could tell there was something foreboding in the air, so maybe that’s why you faltered a bit looking at the beautiful drawing after turning just one card even though in itself it shouldn’t have meant anything. Then you turned the next card and the next one, disregarding the fact that you should have explained the meaning of each and their connection while you did so but Jiung’s previous words about Madame Jihye’s prediction echoed in your mind, louder and louder, the more cards were revealed. You had a bad feeling already when you reached for the last card in the middle of the spread and held your breath until you turned the card with The Hanged Man on it.

“What? What is it?” The boy’s gentle voice brought you back to reality as you stared at the cards still.

“Look, I know it must sound crazy to you but…” You gulped as you hesitantly looked up, only to find him already looking at you. You stilled yourself and looked him in the eye as you continued. “It would be for the best if you didn’t fall in love.”

Jiung furrowed his eyebrows, confused and probably thinking that it didn’t make sense. How could five cards tell him that he shouldn’t be in love? To him, it must have been ridiculous but to you? It was a clear warning. Madame Jihye was right, if he fell in love, it would be tragic.

“Here,” you pointed at the Knight of Cups card. “This shows romantic interest or at least that you are following your heart while these two on top and bottom both symbolise lack of control, that you can’t change your fate. Once you start walking down that road, there’s no way back,” you explained as you tapped on the cards of The Chariot and The Wheel of Fortune.

“I guess, that doesn’t mean anything good either,” Jiung eyed the card in the middle and you didn’t correct him.

“That generally means sacrifice and this stands for heartbreak, suffering, grief,” you touched the last card on the right, the Three Of Swords.

You usually didn’t do anything other than tarot, not if your clients didn’t explicitly ask or had a good enough reason. Because other things didn’t come as easy to you as breathing and there was always some danger to it. You could get stuck in that headspace, one part in the present, one part in the future. But you had never seen such an ominous spread.

“It might be wrong,” you said, quiet, even though it was a lie. Sure, predictions like this weren’t always clear or they were too vague to be interpreted well but they weren’t wrong. Still, you prompted the boy to draw cards again and when they were the exact same ones, you broke another rule of yours. “Can you show me your palm, please?”

You took a shaky breath after Jiung stretched out his hand towards you, palm up. You touched his life line with your index finger and closed your eyes. You let the smoke and the scent of the candles overwhelm your senses in the dark. Then you slid your fingertip over the palm slowly, flinching at the images flashing in front of you.

Thunder. Jiung smiled, warmly and fondly. He held his hand out. He shared his popcorn and laughed. Thunder. The circus sign flashed in the background. He grabbed a hand. Your hand. And run. Thunder. A kiss on the top of the ferris wheel. A pentagram on the ground. Candles burning down. Thunder. Jiung stumbled. There was black blood everywhere. A curse. Thunder. You felt tears stream down your face. A heart monitor beeped. Thunder.

You snatched your hand away and stood up quickly, almost knocking your chair down in your haste. You pulled back as if Jiung burned you, tears brimming in your eyes.

“You have to go,” you whispered in a weak voice.

But the boy was too nice, too caring.

“What? Why?” He asked confused as he stood up as well and tentatively reached out towards you. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head but refused to answer. You had something more important to do.

“You need to leave and don’t come back,” you told him firmly.

“I don’t understand.”

Of course, he didn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t even believe in this. But you did and you knew it wasn’t just any vision. It was your shared future. If you didn’t change it.

“Please, just go,” you insisted and it surprised even you, the pleading in your voice. Jiung looked conflicted, his warm brows eyes hazy and confused, but lucky for you, he didn’t argue further. He took hesitant steps towards the entrance and you forced yourself not to look after him. Even if it was the last time you saw him.

Your vision might not come true. Jiung might not fall in love. Not with you at least. He wouldn’t die because of you either. But life had a cruel balance and there was a reason why you shouldn’t have messed with the predictions, especially not ones involving you. If he didn’t die like he was supposed to, somebody else had to because somebody had to even the bills of fate. And you knew exactly who.

Maybe it would be the right time you give a call to your mom and tell her that your grandma was right: you should have never come to this circus.

#series: never seen circus #p1harmony x reader #p1h x reader #jiung x reader #jiung angst #stories

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lovely-angst · 3 years

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the first time they meet you

a/n: im trying things out with doing three quick fics with one prompt. lmk how you like it.

genre: fluff

pairing: bakugou x reader, hawks x reader, dabi x reader

summary: the first time he sees/meets you

word count: 1.6k

08.04.21

bakugou - coffee shop

it was a long, long day of patrol for bakugou.

he had so much on his plate that day from staying late the night before to finish some reports and then having to wake up early for his daily patrol—not to mention all of the inconveniences of catching and apprehending some wannabe villains.

thankfully, he was able to get off work by the time the had begun to set. golden hues decorating the evening sky as bakugou walked back towards his apartment.

his feet were sore and ached from being on his toes all day. all bakugou wanted to do was to relax in the comfort and silence of his home.

taking a seat on a short concrete block wall, bakugou pulls the mask up over his eyes to push his bangs back, allowing the subtle breeze to cool him down as he took a small breather from his exhaustion.

he didn't have the energy to do anything.

"dynamight?" a small voice calls out before bakugou turns his head in their direction. you stood a few feet away from him timidly, but a smile on your face as you gently approached the unapproachable male.

"sorry, i'm not doing any autographs or pictures right now," he mumbled out exhaustedly, but to his surprise, you shook your head. "no, i'm not here for that," you say before taking a step back to gesture towards the cafe behind you, "i was wondering if you would like to come in and i can quickly get you something to eat and drink?"

bakugou glanced over at the empty cafe before glancing back at you and back at the cafe.

"it was a shock to see you outside the cafe and you look really exhausted. it's the least i can do for you," you continue, "you don't have to worry about fans, i'm about to close the cafe right now, so no one should be coming,"

bakugou knew that he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself when his feet ached with every step and the tiredness was beginning to consume his body.

"fine, just this once," he answered, pushing himself up and off the concrete before following you, who beamed with happiness.

as you walked in, you held the door open for the pro hero before you stepped back out to grab the menu board before flipping the sign from 'open' to 'close', letting the door shut behind you.

"would you like some coffee? or do you prefer tea?" you question as you walk behind the counter, preparing a few things for him. bakugou sat down at one of the empty tables, glancing around at the peaceful and aesthetic atmosphere.

"tea," he states, "i'm not a big coffee person," you hum in response, "i'll get you one of our refreshing tea drinks then. i think you'll like it."

it wasn't long before you came back out with a thirst-quenching drink and a nice hearty little sandwich with it.

"i added a sandwich for you filled with healthy and light ingredients so it'll give you the energy to finish your day. i hope the drink is to your liking as well," you explain, listing out the different ingredients, "i'll be here cleaning up while you finish. take your time."

bakugou was very thankful for the sandwich if he was honest—he was starving, having skipped his lunch earlier. taking a bite of the sandwich, he noted the different textures and flavors that mixed well together. ontop of that, the drink was great by itself and even better with the sandwich.

his eyes drifted off towards you, who bobbed your head gently to the quiet background music of the cafe, moving in every which way to finish closing up your shop.

after quickly finishing off his small meal, he brought the dishes back to you and you happily accepted them, declining to accept any payment, "it's on me! you enjoying the meal is more than enough!"

"also, why not try stopping by during one of your early shifts for some coffee? relax and refuel before your long day as a hero?," you suggest with those bright eyes of yours.

bakugou couldn't help the slight lift of the corner of his lips, "i might just have to."

hawks - after a mission

hawks had just gotten done with a rather stressful rescue due to the many kids on the site he had to protect. thankfully he had all of his feathers and was able to use them to protect the kids while his sidekicks were busy securing the villain.

"are you kids okay?" hawks questioned as he was able to usher them into a safe corner away from the action. "i'm okay mr.hawks!"

hawks let out a small smile before patting the young child on the head. "where is miss (name)?"

hawks opened his mouth just as a soothing yet worried voice cut through the sirens and the commotion. turning around, hawks laid his eyes on you and his heart skipped a beat.

stepping aside from the kids, you ran over towards the children before kneeling down on their level to give them all hugs, checking them over for any injuries, "oh, i'm so glad you are all safe! i was so worried! are you okay? are you hurt anywhere?"

one of the little girls shook their head before pointing up at hawks, "i'm okay! mr.hawks saved us!"

turning around, you quickly stood up before giving him a very polite bow, "thank you so much, hawks! i am forever grateful!"

"no need to be so formal! i'm just doing my job," he responds with a smile, only for panic to set in when he sees the blood streaming down from your head. "miss! your head is bleeding, we need to get you checked out!"

"oh, i think this is from when I blocked the kids earlier from falling debris. i feel fine," you respond, which makes hawks worry even more.

hawks quickly calls for his sidekicks to stay with the children while he goes to get you checked up on. thankfully, there was a medical team nearby and hawks waited with you as they patched you up.

"again, thank you so much for saving my kids back there. I don't know what i would do if they had gotten hurt. you're an amazing hero." you compliment, sitting on the back of an ambulance as the medic carefully wraps your head to stop the bleeding.

"i could say the same about you," hawks starts, "you didn't hesitate to risk your life for those kids—you're the real hero. "

a shy smile forms on your lips as you look away from the very handsome man in front of you, "well, i love my kids. i'd do anything for them."

hawks couldn't help but admire you.

"i'm (name) by the way," you say, holding a hand out towards the hero. hawks smiles at you, reaching over to give your hand a firm shake.

"hawks. nice to meet you, (name)."

dabi - flower shop

dabi usually hated the rain, but today, he was thankful for it.

he had just escaped from some pro heroes and hid in a small alleyway in a quiet part of town away from any heroes. the cool droplets of water felt refreshing on his burning skin after overusing his quirk. though, he wasn't sure the injuries he sustained would heal quickly with the rain.

hearing a small bell ring, dabi quickly pressed himself up against the wall as he listened for any movement.

"ah it's raining!" a voice called out before their alarmed footsteps ran about, causing the puddles to splash every which way. suddenly, a pail of flowers fell into his view before you quickly bent down to pick them back up.

sensing someone staring, you turned and your eyes were met with his bright blue ones, causing you to squeak and fall back, "y-you scared me!" you cried before picking yourself back up and frowning at your dirtied outfit.

"hey, are you okay?" you asked as you carefully walked toward him. "you're bleeding! let me go get a medical kit," you explained before running around the corner to your flower shop.

but dabi knew better.

you were going to call the heroes on him, you only used that as an excuse to get away. standing up with all of the power he could muster, dabi limped his way down the street as far as he could—away from you.

"hey! where are you going!" you cried as dabi heard more splashes behind him, your small pitter-patters against the puddles.

turning around, dabi's eyes widened as he watched you chase after him in the rain, your hair getting wet with the rain and sticking to your face as you caught up with the male.

"let's hide from the rain over here," you say as you gently help dabi away from the rain before settling him down on a bench. "don't you know who i am?" dabi asked frustratedly, but you just continued to clean and dress his wounds. "sorry, i don't, but i can care less about that right now," you respond to dabi's surprise.

dabi watched as you carefully cleaned him up, watching the raindrops slide down your soft skin.

"that should do it," you say, standing back with a smile. dabi follows your movements, "thanks doll, but i gotta run," he responds, throwing his hood over his head.

"oh, well, stay safe then," you respond as the two of you enter back into the rain. he gives you a playful smile before vanishing from your view.

walking back to your flower shop to finish bringing your flowers back, you thought that would be the last of him. but to your surprise a few days later, tied onto the handle of your shop was a blue rose with a note attached,

'thanks for the other day, doll.

- dabi'

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Collision Course

Summary: You and Spencer were just bound to collide. Only fate could plan a first meeting that unique.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: fluff, minor car crash (no serious injuries), swearing, sexual harassment (specifically cat-calling from a stranger), mentions of eating a lot of food, implied allusion to sex (not specifically stated)

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: this is my one-shot entry for @ellesgreenaway ‘s 1k follower celebration! congratulations! <3 i’ve had this fic in my drive for a while but i never got around to finishing it until now

Masterlist

The metro was down for scheduled repairs today. JJ offered to bring Spencer in but he politely declined. He figured he should drive his car at least every once and a while so it doesn’t just collect rust in his parking spot.

Leaving his apartment 15 minutes earlier than he normally would to account for his rather slow driving, Spencer cautiously reversed out of his space.

He sighed in relief that he had not hit the neighboring cars. Spencer began to pull out of the parking garage. Unfortunately, he was so relieved from his little victory that he forgot to check both ways when he drove out of the parking garage.

Spencer slammed on the brakes but it was too late. He hit a young woman jogging and knocked her to the ground. Luckily, his average speed was that of a snail so he hoped her injuries were not too bad.

Spencer put the car in park and got out, “Oh god, oh god, oh god. Are you okay, miss?”

“I think so,” you were on the ground, assessing your body for any damage.

“Can you stand?” Spencer extended his hand to help you up.

You carefully stood, wincing a little when you put pressure on your left ankle.

“Is there anyone I can call? Do you want me to drive you to the ER?” Spencer frantically asked.

Your eyes widened, “No!” you stated a little too loudly, “Um I mean no thank you. I should finish my run anyways. I have a 5k for Alzheimer’s research coming up and I need to run or else I don’t raise any money,” you politely waved and took off again, much slower this time.

Spencer cringed as he watched you limp slightly every time you stepped on your left ankle, knowing it was his fault you were in pain. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

“Hey JJ, have you left yet? I need a ride, I’ll explain in the car.”

“Pretty Boy, how was your drive in?” Derek asked as soon as Spencer stepped off the elevator with JJ.

“I got about 20 feet and then hit someone with my car and had to call JJ so not great,” he admitted.

“Boy Wonder, you did WHAT? Are they okay?” Penelope gasped.

“She insisted she was fine but then she was limping away. I offered her a ride but she didn’t seem too keen on getting in a car with me,” Spencer explained.

“I wonder why,” Emily chuckled.

So there Spencer was. In the park in his only pair of short athletic shorts and a hoodie.

He had asked Penelope to sign him up for the 5k as a way to sort of make it up to the woman he hit. Plus, obviously it was for a good cause that was near and dear to his heart because of his mother.

Spencer had to take a lot of water breaks, periodically stopping to walk for a bit.

In the distance, he saw you on a bench and he suddenly felt the energy again to continue running to you. As he approached, he saw you tightening an ankle brace around your left foot and to make matters worse, you had a wrist brace as well.

Spencer considered just leaving you alone but he felt the need to apologize.

“H-Hello,” he awkwardly sputtered.

“Oh, hi,” you replied.

“I am so so sorry. Please let me pay your medical bills and any other expenses that I caused,” Spencer apologized.

“Unless you meant to hit me then it’s fine,” you stood from the bench.

“I definitely didn’t and I wasn’t on my phone or anything like that. I just barely ever drive but the metro was down today,” Spencer explained.

“You don’t have to pay my medical bills. I’m friends with a nurse so she did this for free. However, I would allow you to sponsor me for the 5k,” you answered.

“Absolutely,” Spencer nodded, “And funny story, you inspired me to register as well. I got everyone in my office to sponsor me.”

“That’s so great! The money is certainly going to a good cause.”

Spencer saw you smile for the first time since he met you.

“I’ve never been much of an athlete though. I barely passed my fitness test for work,” Spencer admitted.

“What kind of job has a fitness test?” you asked.

“I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” Spencer stated.

“Oh shit, you’re a federal agent? Maybe I will sue you and make bank,” you grinned.

Spencer’s face reddened.

“It was just a joke. You can laugh, then that means the incident is in the past and no hard feelings,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer, if you ever need a running buddy, I’m more than happy to come along seeing as we both are training for the same thing. But I do have to warn you, this brace is kind of a bitch so I’m a little slower than normal.”

“I can assure you that you will probably still be faster than me with the brace on so maybe it was a good thing for me that I hit you with my car so you won’t be miles ahead,” Spencer grinned.

You laughed wholeheartedly, “See, Spencer! I’m laughing about it so no hard feelings, all is forgiven.”

“I’m just finishing up for the day but I was planning on being here again on Wednesday at the same time if you want to meet at this bench,” you offered.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Spencer nodded.

“See you around, Spencer. Hopefully not in your car though,” you winked and waved.

“Oh god, you’ve fallen in love with the chick you almost killed,” Derek groaned.

“Not love...well, yet anyways. She’s so pretty and easy to talk to and isn’t mean to me after everything that has happened and her laugh is like honey,” Spencer smiled softly, recalling the sound in his mind.

“Okay, lover boy,” Penelope giggled, “Did you get her number?”

“No but we’re meeting for a run tomorrow. We actually met at the park when I was training,” Spencer said.

“So she’s seen you in those short shorts and agreed to another meeting? Maybe you do have a chance, kid, cause you really put it all out there,” Derek smirked.

“Speaking of, I actually need to get more of them,” Spencer sipped his coffee.

“Just go all the way and get spandex. Leave nothing to the imagination,” Derek chuckled as Spencer rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, I’m going to have to hit your right leg this time if I’m going to have any chance of keeping up with you,” Spencer huffed as he bent over his knees to catch his breath.

“Well good news is that was four miles so you definitely will be able to run a 5k because it’s only 3.1 miles,” you encouraged him.

“Technically, it’s 3.10686 miles but I see your point,” Spencer heaved.

“I know a really good smoothie place nearby. Come on, it’s on me,” you grabbed his hand.

Luckily, Spencer’s face was already red from exercising so you weren’t able to see the blush that formed on his cheeks.

“No, it’s definitely on me. I know you said we’re fine but I am forever going to be indebted to you because of the incident.”

“Spencer, really just forget about it,” you assured him.

“I can’t, I have an eidetic memory,” he grinned.

“Ah, I see. Fine, you buy me one smoothie but then we’re even,” you conceded.

You were walking down the street to the cafe when you heard a whistle come from one of the cars driving by.

“Damn, your ass is looking sexy in those leggings,” a man hollered from his passing truck.

You flipped him off and tried to pull your shirt down as much as possible, crossing your arms tightly around your front.

Spencer unzipped his hoodie and extended it towards you, “Sorry, it’s a little sweaty but if you want to wear it, you can.”

You smiled softly and accepted the sweatshirt, feeling more comfortable now.

“I’ve got his license plate number memorized and I intend to file a police report. Unfortunately, reports like these usually don’t go very far but I’ll keep pushing it through. I’ll also call the company that was printed on the side of the truck and ask to speak to his supervisor,” Spencer spoke softly after a few minutes.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you leaned your head on his shoulder and sighed.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just doing what’s right. He had no right to make comments about your body,” Spencer said, wrapping a gentle arm around your upper waist.

“Welcome to Y/N’s carbo-loading extravaganza!” you opened the door of your apartment to let Spencer in.

“I brought dessert as requested,” Spencer held up a chocolate cake.

“I like how you think, Spencer. Dinner’s all ready,” you smiled.

“Spaghetti, meatballs, and crispy buttery garlic bread,” you pulled the bread out of the oven.

“Looks absolutely delicious,” he complimented.

“Eating carbohydrates before a race boosts the glycogen storage in your muscles allowing you to work out longer,” Spencer informed you.

“Interesting, I never knew the science behind it but I’m never going to complain about eating tons of pasta and bread,” you twirled some pasta on to your fork.

Halfway through the meal, Spencer accidentally got a sauce stain on his pale pink shirt.

“Oh no,” you said as he tried to dab it away.

“That needs to soak right away. I don’t want any casualties at the carbo-loading extravaganza. Give it to me to scrub and I’ll get you another shirt.”

Spencer unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. You gulped at the sight of him shirtless, grabbing the shirt and heading to your bathroom sink to scrub it with laundry detergent.

“You can just grab any t-shirt from my room that you think will fit,” you called out to him.

Spencer settled on a light gray shirt with a golden retriever on the front.

“Okay, the stain is out! It’s just soaking now-“ you immediately stopped talking as soon as you saw the shirt Spencer was wearing.

He noticed your eyes were beginning to glisten with tears, “I’m so sorry. I can pick a different shirt,” Spencer was already beginning to pull it over the top of his head.

“No it’s fine, Spencer. That’s just my grandma’s t-shirt. I forgot I even had it.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he spoke guiltily.

“You didn’t know, besides it looks good on you anyways,” you smiled, “My grandma is the whole reason I’m running the 5k.”

“My mom has Alzheimer’s too so I understand that it’s extremely hard to watch a loved one go through that,” Spencer pulled you in for a hug.

You cried into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

After Spencer hadn’t heard any sniffles in a while, he whispered, “Do you have any tea I can make you?”

You nodded and Spencer guided you to the couch, wrapping you in a blanket before turning the kettle on.

Spencer answered the cheerful knocking at his front door early in the morning.

“Race day! Are you ready?” you exclaimed.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Spencer smiled.

“I promise we are sticking together the whole time because it doesn’t matter how long it takes us as long as we finish,” you held up your pinky.

“Together,” Spencer affirmed, locking his pinky with yours.

The starting line in the park was only a short distance away from Spencer’s apartment so you and Spencer decided to walk there as a little warm-up.

You and Spencer were doing quad stretches when you saw his eyes wander to something behind you and then widen. His face immediately reddening.

“What?” you asked, turning around to see a group of people with a sign that read ‘Go Spencer and his girlfriend!’

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect them to do that,” Spencer stammered.

The poor boy was so flustered so you decided to take it easy on him.

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged with a slight smile.

“You don’t?” Spencer clarified, “I’m not very good with words or flirting in general but I would like to see you again after the race is over. Maybe I could take you out to dinner?”

“Yes but my only condition is...I’m driving,” you smirked.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that,” Spencer grinned.

An air horn sounded, signaling the start of the race.

“I think you’re going to have to catch me first, Dr. Reid,” you giggled as you sprinted ahead.

“It’s in sight, Spencer! We can do this!” you pointed to the finish line in the distance.

“Y/N, you’re going to have to carry me. I can’t,” Spencer heaved.

“If you finish this race, I will…” you cupped your hand to his ear and whispered something.

Spencer immediately perked up and started running again.

“Hey, wait up!” you laughed.

You and Spencer crossed the finish line at the same time. Spencer’s legs immediately gave out which caused you to fall too, collapsing on top of him.

“I know I’m really sweaty and gross right now but can I please kiss you?” Spencer whispered.

Your lips were pressed on his as soon as he finished his sentence. You honestly didn’t know how long you had been kissing for but you didn’t look up until you heard one of the race officials shout, “Hey lovebirds! That’s very sweet but other people are trying to cross the finish line.”

“Sorry!” you and Spencer apologized, scrambling to your feet.

“Not really,” Spencer whispered to you and you jabbed him in the side with your elbow playfully, stifling a laugh.

what slightly inspired this fic is one time @samuel-de-champagne-problems commented on one of my posts “i could never stay mad at spencer” and then i thought to myself “same. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if he hit me with his car” and now here we are... 🚙

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #cm fanfic #spencer x reader #reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #ellesgreenawaybookclub

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kusagrasskusa · 3 years

Text

Gaara X Innocent! Reader - "Hellfire"

Gaara's age is bumped up to 16 in this btw, and the reader is 16 as well. This takes place the night Gaara kills that one Sound Ninja on the rooftop, during the chunin exams. Also, Gaara might be considered a Yandere, but I don't know (you'll see why lol) Lastly, when I talk about Gaara burning, I mean it metaphorically. Yes, this is 100% based off The Hunchback of Notre Dame

FYI! This story isn't very romantic so if you're a fan of slightly darker stories, go ahead snd read this I suppose. Plus Y/N is kinda a coward in this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There he sat, on top of the rooftop late at night. Tomorrow would be the full moon, when Gaara's power would increase in perfect timing for another battle in the chunin exams. Competition is getting tough and examtakers are either extra aggressive with everyone or forming alliances. Not only that, but so many people are winning each challenge that too few people are being eliminated. That's all that's important and all that will be important until the Sand Village finally finishes off Konoha with the help of the Sound Village. But how, even with these much more important factors, is the only thing Gaara could think about is some normal pediatrician girl?

The moment he met her in the streets, a flame was set in his heart. He had been walking through Konoha after register for the exams and noticed a pretty young girl running through the streets, shouting for help. All she received was weird glances and eye rolls, however Gaara and his siblings caught on. Much to his sister and brother's surprise, Gaara had no problems hearing her pleas and then defending her. Someone had been following her; someone who her family had bad history with and from the looks of it, that person planned to hurt her.

He had no problems escorting her home and listening to her talk along the way. Her voice was so soft, her colorful kimono and flowers in her hair fitting for someone with an innocent and sweet personality. She seemed to be oblivious to the mysterious looks of Gaara and his siblings, or the way Gaara was so cold and silent. She payed no mind and spoke to him as id he was normal; like he was human. And it was that fact, her ignoring his dangerous aura, that lit that flame.

After since that day, that flame grew so strong. Every set of bright shades of the colors she wore on her clothes, every flower that she decorated herself with, every word or item that she mentioned in the little time she spoke to him, and everyone with E/C eyes would make him think of her. That sweet, kind, oblivious girl. It's like she cast a spell on him to make him slowly burn alive; that little flame she set it him would quickly grow into hellfire. His burning desires to see her again, to hold her, to love, traveled through his skin and veins. It didn't take long for Gaara to convince himself she did something cruel to him to use his demon, just like his father is using his demon to destroy Konoha in a few days.

Gaara was began to assume the girl was mocking him when she spoke to him so lightly; that he was no one to be afraid of. It was so insulting, but she was able to hide her cruel and disgraceful jeers under a sweet and loving facade and cute clothing. That has to be it, he thought. No one could ever like me, no one can love me, other than me. More and more of Gaara's thoughts were consumed, then all at once, by thoughts of her. She was like a demon dragging him to hell to torture forever. That beautiful girl with those lovely E/C eyes and pretty clothing was using him, he convinced himself. And someone like that deserved death.

That sweet, young girl had a name; Y/N. She was incapable of sleeping, as a terrible feeling in her stomach was keeping her awake. She pouted her lip and huffed, poking her stomach and whispering to herself, "I want that bad feeling to go away!" That feeling was pure anxiety and a hint of fear. These emotions were very uncommon for Y/N as she had always. Even a positive thinker with lots of love in her heart for even villains to an extent. She sighed, turning over in her bed on her back for sitting up, flipping her legs over her bedside. She stood up and put on a soft kimono over her pajamas and walked to the front door of her home, put on her sandels, and walked out. "Maybe a nice walk around the village will tire me out!"

"It's almost the full moon," Gaara said aloud. "My power will only grow stronger." He stood up, staring intensly at the moon as if it's the only thing keeping him from being devored by his hellish thoughts. His thoughts of how lovely it would be to destroy that girl who made his chest feel warm and his face heat up when she talked to him. That girl who made him feel the way he feels about himself, only a bit different. He had never felt romantic love to anyone, and for him to suddenly feel so strongly about someone instantly convinced him that she did something to him. Someone who would ever control him like would burn in hell before the hellfire consumes him first.

A rough, quiet and threatening voice erupted from behind the redhead. He paid no mind to anything that came out of the mouth of the Sound Village ninja rather just acknowledged that he wanted a fight. Without even realizing it, all that bloodlust built up through thinking of Y/N was released, ending in that Sound Village ninjas blood being spilled all over the roof top. It felt like a weight was taken off his back when he killed the ninja, but in the back of his head he knew it wasn't enough. Gaara didn't want that petty ninja, only that witch known as Y/N. Every passing second, that hellfire coursing through his veins were blazing out of control, weren't they?

"Maybe a nice walk around the village will tire me out!" Gaara's ears perked at that voice. That voice. Y/N's voice. Just like that, Gaara's need for blood grew strong again but this time, it felt different. He killed the Sound Village Ninja with aggression, but knowing he could kill Y/N now that he heard her close by made him feel an exciting kind of bloodlust. Those flames coursing through his body grew hotter every second, growing ever more desperate to get his hands on her.

"It's been a while since I've seen the garden at night come to think about. The moon is bright tonight so it's bound to be pretty sight!" That sweet, soft voice called out from the ground, below Gaara's feet. She walked the pathway it takes to find a nearby lake, where a nice little garden lays. A smile rose on Gaara's face; one of pure hate and excitement. His chest pained to greatly at the thought of her death, but that hellfire coursing through his body was telling him to hurt her. The front of his mind was screaming for him to kill her and use her blood as a piece of his deadly sand, but the back of his kind was whispering for him to comprehend how he feels about her first.

So he began to follow her. Gaara quietly walked from the rooftops, not daring to make a single sound. He continued to smile as he followed her, his smile growing the more he heard her talk to herself. Such a sweet girl with such a pure heart. It's a shame someone with Gaara's problems sees her as a witch because he loves her. As another 10 minutes go by, Y/N began walking into the woods and towards the lake. Gaara jumped to the ground without making a sound and followed her discreetly by hiding behind trees. He stopped when Y/N did. Y/N's eyes widened and sparkled at the amazing sight before her; the moon reflecting on the lake as beautiful flowers and trees accompanied toads on lilipads in the water. Pure bliss.

"Wow...It's incredible!" She laughed in awe. "My arms feel so weak at the sight," she spoke again as her smile widened. "I wish mom was here to see this!" Gaara hummed, looking over the scenery as well. It wasn't very interesting, but it was something he supposed. After all, Y/N loved it. Gaara looked around and saw no one nearby, meaning now would be a great time to react. He silently tip toed over to Y/N, using trees to cover himself. However, Y/N spotted him when she looked around the area in case there was anyone nearby (after all, she was being loud and who knows who lived in the area).

"Hmm? Hi, you there!" She said, waving her hand towards that silhouette behind that tree. Gaara'a face turned into one of the confusion, his "eyebrows" furrowing. Why isn't she scared of someone creeping up behind her in the woods? "Sorry if I'm bothering you! I just wanted to see what's it's like here at night. I can leave if you want," she said, swaying her body back and forth.

"...No, it's quite alright," Gaara replied as he stepped from behind the trees. He walked up the her, and instantly Y/N recognized him. She gasped, surprised.

"I remember you! You're the one that saved me! Thank you so much!" She giggled, clasping her hands together and bowing deeply. "My deepest thanks." Gaara paused, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit.

"My heart is pounding," he mumbled allowed, pressing his hand against his chest. "What have you done to me?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Y/N stood up straight, giving him a questioning hum in return. Her face looked so innocent and sweet; it's all apart of that facade, isn't it? Gaara growled, roughly grabbing Y/N's shoulders and pulling her close. She jumped, gasping a little at the sudden action. "I said, what did you do to me? Where did this hellfire come from, you witch!" His voice went from his normal calm tone to a scream instantly.

Y/N's eyes widened and her body started to shiver a little. She furrowed her eyebrows together, stuttering out a reply. "I-I don't understand..." That answer wasn't good enough for Gaara as he had no problem throwing her to the ground and looming over her with a look of anger across his facial features. His fist was clenched so tight that his veins were showing. "I don't know what you're talking about!" Y/N yelled out fearfully, covering her face. Tears began to swell in her eyes and her voice became shakey.

Sand began to pour out from behind him and his heart ate picked up again. That flame in his heart was so strong and terrifying to Gaara that he was okay with killing the girl he fell in love with right then and now. His body was so scared that it wanted to kill her, but his heart was too scared to rid such a wonderful girl from the world forever. "Tell me, witch. What did... you do?" He asked again, staring at her so intensely that she could feel his eyes burning into her skin. She sniffed, now too scared to reply upon seeing that sand loom over her.

After a few moments, he screamed, "tell me!" Y/N chocked up on tears, taking a deep breath before replying.

"I don't know any magic or special jutsus, sir! I didn't do anything to you!" She cried out, slowly sitting up. "I'm sorry!" Gaara hissed, silent for a couple minutes. In that time, Gaara remained still as Y/N slowly began to stand up. In her mind, she was recalling words her mom once spoke to her about dangerous people. People are born innocent and harmless and only bad environments or situations can taint their purity. With that in mind, Y/N assumed that Gaara had problems that she couldn't understand. And with a heart as pure as her's, she had already forgave Gaara for scaring her and already felt sympathy for him. She slowly walked closer to him, the hairs on her neck standing up with anxiety, and put an arm on his shoulder.

That touch made him snatch back to reality. He slowly put his hand on top of her's; he was so confused and overwhelmed with opposing emotion and thought. "Then why? Why do you make me feel this way?" He asked in a low rough voice. Y/N began to wrap her arms around him and then hug him softly, shutting her eyes tightly. She managed to push her worried back as she found giving this sad, sad man affection was more important. Gaara felt his chest grow warm again and suddenly, she chuckled.

"I think your hellfire consumed me. I can't even find it in myself to kill you anymore, witch. I think I'm in love with you," he said, blinking away tears. He was so scared and his body pained to kill her, but he just couldn't. He was so overwhelmed with the pleasant feeling of Y/N arms being around him to ever lay a finger on her in anger. Instead he just hugged her back tightly, stuffing his face into the crook of her neck and sniffing. He was obviously holding back tears, which didn't work very well. Afterall, for the first time in forever, he felt like he could show a little bit of a soft side.

"You're gonna control me, aren't you? Use my feelings against me and bend me to your will? You're so cruel, even with the face of an angel." Y/N hummed, not understanding his comments. She just sighed, hugging him tighter and opening her eyes.

"Hey, Gaara, isn't it? Why don't we spend time out here tomorrow? I'd like to get to know you better."

Gaara grunted in response, closing his eyes and wiping his tears with on arm, keeping his other arm tightly around her smaller form. Yeah, whatever hellfire he feels has completely consumed him before he could stop it.

Lol sorry this written to bad!

#gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #gaara x innocent reader #yandere gaara #yandere gaara x reader #naruto x reader #innocent reader #reader insert #naruto shippuden #naruto shitposting #gaara is so sweet #i have a test today #anime #shounen

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myriadimagines · 3 years

Text

Chips and Orange Soda (part ii)

Brooklyn Nine-Nine One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Jake Peralta

Other Characters: Amy Santiago

Warnings: theft, threats of violence

Summary: When a series of bodegas are robbed, Holt assigns Jake and Rosa on the case. You, a cashier, become a suspect, but Jake has a gut feeling that you’re not a suspect at all. In fact, he thinks you’re the key to solving the case.

Part One: Chips and Orange Soda

Word Count: 2,319

A/N: the second part to my submission for @locke-writes‘ writing challenge!! admittedly it gets kind of into an ethical dilemma that i didnt mean to go into and that’s unnecessarily deep but you’ll see what i mean ajskdhas but anyway disclaimer again!! not in law enforcement!!! this is not accurate when it comes to crimes!!! i really hope the reveal/ending isn’t too disappointing and that u guys still enjoyed the story!!! it does get a little more serious in this part but i still hope it’s in character/tone with the show!!

reblog/feedback/comments are very much appreciated!!!

Jake is careful to open up the door of the bodega, which is all bordered up with tape as the shattered glass has yet to be replaced. The inside looks better at least, no longer sectioned off with police tape, and business seems to be going on as usual, with customers in between the aisles and some at the counter. Jake resists the urge to grab a snack for himself, and he glances around the room, frowning as he realises there’s no sight of you.

Jake finally approaches a young man manning the cash register. “Hey man, is y/n in?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry dude, they don’t work Tuesdays.”

Jake smacks the side of his head, remembering how you mentioned it to him. He moves to exit the store when he notices the live security footage playing on the screen behind the counter. Pointing it out, Jake says, “Hey, looks like you got your cameras working again.”

The man looks over his shoulder, before turning back to Jake with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

Jake frowns slightly, his hand falling to his side. “y/n told me that your cameras were down last week.”

The man remains confused, staring at Jake as if he’s speaking another language. Slowly, he finally responds, “Nah, they’ve been working fine. I don’t know what y/n’s talking about.”

Something inside of Jake’s stomach twists, and he frowns. Despite how hard he’s been trying to defend you, he can’t help but admit to himself that you’re not making it easy. He digs through his pockets, pulling out an old receipt, and he grins to himself as he flips it over and finds your number on the other side. Pulling out his phone, he cringes slightly at his 6% battery level, and he hopes he has enough to make a call.

Dialling in your number, he raises the phone to his ear. It rings a few times before someone finally picks up the phone. Taking in a deep breath, Jake says, “y/n? It’s Jake, the detective from last week. We… we need to talk.”

—

Jake paces around the briefing room, shaking his head as he tries to piece everything together. After coming back to the precinct following his failed attempt to find you at the bodega, Jake had filled up a corkboard with pictures and other small pieces of evidence he and Rosa were able to gather, although it was looking rather sparse. Your lie about the security cameras definitely presents as an obstacle, but he tries not to think the worst of it. He hasn’t told Rosa yet, who had gone out to meet with the forensics team again, fearing what her reaction would be towards you. Maybe you were mistaken, maybe the robbers managed to figure out a way to wipe the footage. But something about the situation doesn’t sit right with Jake, and he lets out a defeated sigh.

“Hey, Jake,” Amy peeks her head inside, knocking at the door, and Jake looks up. She gestures back to the bullpen as she continues, “You’ve got someone here to see you. Sounds like they’ve got some information on the bodega robberies.”

Jake perks up, rushing past Amy out of the room. His eyes widen as he sees you linger by his desk, nervously glancing around the room. He nods as a thank you to Amy before making his way over to you, and he greets, “Hey, y/n, thanks for coming in. How have you been doing?”

You meet Jake’s gaze, and you can’t help but soften at his tone. He seems to genuinely care, and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Nodding, you reassure him, “I’m okay. I’m… I’m glad you reached out, actually. There are some things that I need to tell you about. Can we go for a walk?”

Jake hesitates. He knows that he should probably bring you to the interrogation room instead, but he finds himself nodding. He grabs his leather jacket hanging on the back of his chair, and he nods towards the elevator as he remarks, “Sure. Let’s go.”

—

You and Jake make your way through the streets of Brooklyn, finding yourself at a nearby local park. You can’t help but smile at the sight of children running around, squealing at one another as they chase each other in some sort of game, but you can’t ignore the pit in your stomach, the gnawing guilt that has plagued you ever since your first interaction with Jake.

You finally happen upon an empty bench in a quiet corner of the park and you silently take a seat. Jake sits beside you, and your breath begins to tremble. Jake patiently waits for you, eyes wide with concern as he finds himself shifting closer to you, subconsciously wanting to comfort you despite not knowing what’s to come.

“I… I haven’t told you everything that I know about the bodega.” you finally confess, and Jake takes in a deep breath. He nods slowly, silently urging you to continue, and you look up to meet his gaze as you continue, “I know who did it. And the other robberies, too.”

Jake stares at you, and you can tell it’s clearly a lot of information to take in. He presses his lips together, trying to process all this, before he quietly asks, “You’re trying to protect someone, aren’t you?”

Your expression crumples, and your shoulders slump as you bury your face in your hands. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t cry, but as the overwhelming reality of the situation begins to sink in, you’re suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Jake’s expression falls, and despite knowing that the two of you are practically strangers, he wraps an arm around you, gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm as he tries to soothe you.

“It feels like I’ve been trying to protect him all my life, but I- I feel like I can’t, anymore.” you manage to say through sobs, and Jake frowns, eyebrows furrowing in concern. Gulping, you finally reveal, “My brother.”

Jake sucks in a sharp breath. He’s all too familiar himself with broken homes, with strained familial relationships. You’re almost afraid to look at him, but Jake’s expression is one of understanding, of sympathy. He gently reassures you, “Take all the time you need, alright?”

You nod, trying to compose yourself the best you can. You fold your hands into your lap, perhaps a poor attempt at stopping them from shaking, and you manage to hold your tears back long enough for you to begin explaining, “It was always just me and my brother, you know? My single mom had to raise us, but we barely saw her because she was always working. But my brother and I always had each other’s backs, and I thought it would be that way forever.”

You’re distracted as a pair of kids dart past you, and Jake notices the bittersweet smile that appears on your face as you watch them. Quietly, he prompts, “When did you feel like things started to go wrong?”

“I mean, my brother was always a rowdy kid, always getting into trouble, but it just kept getting worse and worse. I’d try to bail him out, but there was only so much I could do.” you continue. “As we got older, I started seeing him less and less. He’d show up whenever he needed help, but that was it. Until he showed up the night before the bodega robbery.”

“He came to see you?” Jake’s eyes widen in alarm, and you nod. You can feel a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach as you think back to that night, and you uneasily run your hands through your hair.

“I didn’t know he had robbed those other bodegas. But he came around asking for me to let him and his friend in, basically. Asked me for the key. I told him no, that I could just lend him money, and he… he got angry.” your voice shakes slightly as you stare off at some point in the distance. “We’ve had our fights, obviously, but this was different. I was almost scared of him.”

You screw your eyes shut as you remember seeing the smashed in front door, the fear swallowing you whole as you worried what might happen next. Jake doesn’t try to prompt you further, knowing how difficult this must be for you, and he lets out a soft sigh as he wishes that you didn’t have to go through such a thing.

“I don’t want him to go to jail. I just want him to be okay.” you can feel your words getting caught in your throat as you struggle to continue speaking. “But he doesn’t even feel like my brother anymore. That night was just… I- I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“What about the cameras?” Jake quietly asks.

“That was me.” you sigh, nervously wringing your hands together. “I couldn’t sleep that night, so eventually, I… I just got up and went to see if he had really done it. Part of me still had hope that maybe he didn’t. When I saw the door broken in it just… crushed me. I almost feel like he did it on purpose, to scare me. But I still wanted to protect him, so I… I went in to delete the security footage, and rushed out before anyone could see me.”

Jake leans back onto the bench. This is it, he realises. With your revelations, it seems as though the case is solved. But seeing the heartbreak on your face doesn’t make the solved case as satisfying as it usually is.

“I just feel like I’ve failed him.” your shoulders slump, your voice barely audible. “He’s my family I have, and I just… I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“Hey, you didn’t fail him, y/n,” Jake gently insists, and to your surprise, he reaches out to take your hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’ve been an awesome sibling, better than he deserves, really. But he chose to do this, and that’s not on you.”

You nod, trying your best to believe him, and from the earnest expression on Jake’s face, you feel like you could. You manage to muster up a smile, and Jake smiles back at you. Nodding back in the direction of the precinct, Jake tells you, “I do need you to need you to come back to the precinct to make a statement. But you’ve really helped us, y/n, and you did the right thing.”

A part of you has doubts, but you try your best to take comfort in Jake’s words. Jake gets to his feet, and you stand up with him, and Jake offers you a small smile that reassures you that everything will be okay.

—

You bump the cash machine closed with your elbow as you count out some change. Sliding it over to the customer alongside their bag of snacks, you politely smile at them before they step aside to leave. You wave the next customer in line forward, only to realise it’s Jake standing before you, and your eyes widen as he offers you a sheepish grin. He steps up to the counter, placing down a bag of chips and a bottle of orange soda, and you exchange a knowing smile as you lean forward, “Hey, Jake. Did… did everything go alright?”

“We got him and his buddy.” Jake confirms, and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “They tried to give us the slip, but I chased after them.”

You narrow your eyes slightly, and Jake quickly corrects himself, “Okay, Rosa chased after them, but that doesn’t matter.”

You laugh, and Jake snorts with you before continuing, “There’ll be a trial, obviously. I’ll give you more updates when I hear them.”

You nod, before sliding Jake’s stuff back to him. You don’t even bother ringing his purchase up as you tell him, “It’s on the house.”

“What? No.” Jake hurriedly searches through his pockets for some change. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s the least I can do.” you insist. Jake offers you some cash, but you shake your head. “Seriously, Jake, thank you, for everything.”

You reach out, closing Jake’s hand, and your gaze lingers on one another as your hand remains on his. He smiles, and Jake feels like his heart might beat out of his chest as you smile back at him. Before he can stop himself, he blurts, “Do you want to get dinner with me sometime?”

You blink at him in surprise, and Jake winces as he worries he might’ve blown it. Stammering, he continues, “It’s, uh, my way of saying thank you. For helping us solve the case. And for the snacks.”

Jake watches as a smile spreads across your face, and you chew on your lip as if trying to contain your happiness. “Is this a date?”

Jake grins at you. “It can be.”

“Just tell me when and where.” you nod excitedly, and Jake beams at you. “I’d love to go out with you, Jake.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jake claps his hands together. He scoops up his snacks, backing away as he continues, “Hey, I’ve got to run back to the precinct, but I’ll text you, okay?”

“Got it.” you nod, grinning from ear to ear. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch Jake clumsily try to open the door, but he stops himself.

“Oh! By the way,” Jake spins around on his heel. “Do you guys sell batteries?”

“Um,” you glance over your shoulder at the inventory behind you. “We’ve got some. What kind do you need?”

“It’s for a clock.” Jake sighs, and you raise an eyebrow at his reaction. “It’s… a long story.”

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softomi · 3 years

Text

crossing the threshold

prompt: our love is spread across years, even if for the majority was not spent together; I’ll make up for it forever

pairing: atsumu x reader

word count: 5.3k

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsume @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen

When Atsumu was sixteen, he met you. A little ten-year-old with cute chubby cheeks, it was during a time when he envied Suna for having a little sister. You had mistaken him for Osamu from behind and while thoroughly offended, he couldn’t dare to raise his voice to a young girl. Atsumu merely patted your head, he bent to your eye level and introduced himself sweetly.

“But you can call me Tsumu. Just remember.” Atsumu stood straight, striking a pose, “I’m the better looking twin okay?”

Innocently, you nodded, “Okay.”

You were absolutely starstruck by him from that point on. If you had to pick your first love, Miya Atsumu is the face that comes to your mind. Contrary to the childish antics that he may give off to his friends and onlookers, he was absolutely sweet to you.

He’d buy you ice cream, random trinkets, and even picked you up from school once when Rintarou got detention for sleeping in class. Atsumu was like a second older brother you wished Rintarou would be sometimes. Granted, you love your brother, but sometimes he lacked the certain caring aspect that Atsumu seemed to always give you.

“Do you like me better or your brother better?” Atsumu watched your childlike eyes light up.

The popsicle in your hand was melting and your legs swayed on the seat, the ringing of the convenience store’s door echoed into the air. You grinned, “Tsumu!” Your head falls forward into your popsicle, the hand that’s smacked the back of your head connected to your brother, “Rin! You’re so mean!”

“What did I tell you.” Rintarou looks down on you, “Don’t associate yourself with Atsumu. He’s a bad man.”

Atsumu grumbles, standing to his feet to point his popsicle at your brother, “Don’t brain wash her like that! Everyone knows I’m the better twin!” He screams into the night and you laugh.

At twelve years old, you’ve made a mental note in your head that one day you were going to marry Miya Atsumu. It was fate, you two were just meant to end up together; but at twelve years old, you experienced your first heart break. Miya Atsumu was eighteen and had a beautiful girl attached to his arm.

Unknowingly, you followed him when you saw him randomly on the street. When you entered the cafe, your heart broke upon seeing him embrace the pretty girl. He hadn’t even noticed you until he properly sat down next to her. His arm draped around her shoulder as he used his other hand to wave to you. As a heartbroken twelve-year-old, you ran out of the café shop.

“Do you know her?”

Atsumu’s arm falls slowly, “Yeah, she’s my friend’s sister. Not sure why she ran out like that. She absolutely adores me.”

All the way home, you ran, not even noticing that you had sprinted past your brother and Osamu. For the weekend you locked yourself in your room trying to quell the sadness of your heart. Atsumu was no longer the man you knew, he was no longer sweet or nice, he was a monster.

You stuck your tongue out at him, “Osamu is the better-looking twin. I want to take a picture with Osamu only!”

Osamu laughs, your hands wrapped around Osamu’s arm as you pull him to take a picture. Graduation day called for families to flood the school and once the ceremony ended, pictures were being taken by everyone. Your parents made you take over fifty pictures with your brother before the twins joined. Atsumu suggested a picture with his favorite little girl and you barked at him.

“You’ll take a picture with me right Samu?” You were practically hugging his arm, Atsumu glaring from behind the parents with cameras.

“Okay! My turn!” Atsumu squeezed through.

“No!” You clung to the grey-haired twin.

After much ruckus, it was concluded that you’d take a picture with all of the boys. Osamu to your right, Atsumu to your left and your brother standing tall behind you. While you leaned closer towards Osamu, your face was bright red, oddly aware of Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder as he poses with a smile.

Your mother hung the picture in the hallway. It stared at you for four years, you hadn’t seen him since he graduated.

Atsumu ran into you at his brother’s restaurant. His brother chatted with a young woman, the familiarity of the figure making him curious when he entered. In fact, when you finally turned to look at him, he almost choked on his own tongue.

“Look at you!” His hand falls on your head, “You’re so big now.”

You swat his hand away, “Don’t touch me, you’re going to ruin my hair.”

Atsumu laughs, pulling into the seat next to you, “How old are you now? Fourteen?”

“Sixteen!” You grit your teeth, “I see you still have the uglier hair.”

Atsumu leans his head back, “You’re still so mean!” He feigns a tear shed, “I remember when you used to adore me so much.”

“That was when you brain washed me.” You stuck your tongue out to him.

Atsumu stares, the amazed grin was glued to his face. It makes your cheeks tint and your heart picks up in pace, “So what are you doing here? Are you visiting me?!” Atsumu wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into an awkward hug, “Did you miss me?!”

Atsumu retracts his hands when someone smacks him from behind. You pull away with a deep hue on your cheeks, brushing your hand through your hair to refix the position. Rintarou stands behind Atsumu, effectively continuing to smack the man another time just for the fun of it.

“Bye Samu!” You’re waving to the male, turning to look at Atsumu briefly with a scowl, “Bye loser.”

Atsumu found you still adorable, attempting to pinch your cheeks and pulling away quickly when you try to bite him. Compared to when he had first met you, small and tiny in the kitchen of your home, now you were taller, hair grown out, and the school uniform fitted on you nicely. Even as you were leaving, Atsumu couldn’t help but turn and stare.

“Ow.” Atsumu rubs the back of his head, Osamu glaring down at him, “What.”

“She’s sixteen, you pervert.”

Atsumu groans, “I wasn’t thinking anything, you’re the pervert for even about thinking it.”

Another four years pass like that, at twenty for you, Atsumu is twenty-six. He finds it hard to believe that you were indeed you. The occasional social media post he saw of you from your brother’s feed definitely didn’t do you justice.

“Are you still as snarky?” Atsumu sits across from you.

The feel of the restaurant was one that he found oddly romantic, chandelier lights in a private room, he had specifically chosen a private area to not draw attention from fans. A table separated the two of you, the waitress hadn’t returned since bringing out the food, and there was the faint sound of classical music playing from the speakers above.

“I don’t know.” You slowly twirl the wine glass, not offering a glance to him, “Do you still have the ugly blonde hair.” You lift your eyes from the wine, a small grin on your lips, “Oh yeah, looks like you do. At least you learned what toner is.”

“Hey, be nice. I’m the one graciously paying for this meal.”

“You’re the one who begged me to come here and I was so close to getting treated to a meal by Kiyoomi.”

It hadn’t been long since you moved to the same city; ever since you visited his practice once with your brother, you had been contacting him non-stop to be invited to his practices and while your eyes were set on his teammate, he practically cock-blocked any chance he could get.

“You know he’s a clean freak.” Atsumu pokes at his food, “Omi doesn’t even accept gifts from his fans.”

Your eyes sparkled, a cheery grin on your lips, “That’s why he’s so perfect, so caring about his own health.” Atsumu frowned. You pulled out your phone, a giggle on your lips as you showcase your lock screen, “The last time I visited, he took a picture with me! Isn’t he so cute!”

Atsumu snatched your cell phone, causing a distressed sound to emit from your mouth, “Why would you put that as your background! What about the picture we took together?”

You grip your phone back, a sharp glare at him, “I like Omi!”

“My stats are better than his.” He randomly throws out into the air, but the way you stare at your phone has him irked, “You listening to me?”

You hum, “So what if your stats are better. Omi definitely has the better looks; do you think you could give me his number?”

Atsumu groans loudly, the knife in his hand nearly cracking the plate. His fork stabs the steak, before your mouth can spew any more about Kiyoomi, he’s shoving food into your mouth.

“Can you just eat now.” He grumbles.

Your hand covers your lips, slowly chewing the meat with a grin, “Sorry.”

Atsumu and you met more often than you had ever intended. There were many nights where he picked you up from work, many conversations over text, many times he would come over to your apartment to just hang out. He’d take over your couch, body sprawled out as he flipped through the television. You’d force him to stop at a volleyball match, opting to watch your brother play over any television series Atsumu could find.

It was quiet, the commentary from the game being the only sound of your apartment. You sat on the ground, back pressed against your couch, a bowl of popcorn sitting in your lap which you ate as though you were watching an action-packed movie. Atsumu laid on his side, an arm draped over your shoulder, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

His arm suddenly shifted and with a swift second, he withdrew. The sudden action caused you to jolt, looking over your shoulder at him questioningly. His face suddenly hit with a blush.

“What?”

Atsumu coughs, “it’s nothing.” Your eyes turn back to the screen but his mind races. Recalling the moment in which his hand accidentally brushed against your chest, while the fabric of your t-shirt concealed what was underneath, he knew well what it felt like when a woman lacked an undergarment.

He stared at his hand, his face growing redder the more he thought about the incident and he can only assume you were too engrossed into the game to notice. Atsumu feels as though he’s crossed a very awkward line.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” He excuses himself, locking himself into the room, hands aggressively trying to brush away the flush of his cheeks.

As he’s in the bathroom, he takes his time in trying to cool down. He’s trying to find some lotion, hands rummaging through the drawers until as he opens one, he spots the familiar brand of condoms, it’s ones that he’s used before. He blinks three times, an image of you tucked between bedsheets flashes in his mind, before harshly slamming the drawer. Hands flying to his face, and he couldn’t help but think how his luck had run out so fast.

“Tsumu?” You call from the living room, “Everything good in there?”

“Yep!” He answers, “Just looking for some lotion.”

“It’s in the last drawer.”

As he exits the bathroom, he watches you; everything suddenly was different. No longer were you the cute, innocent girl that was his friend’s sister. Perhaps there was another side of you that he just lost track of. Atsumu finds himself seated on the other end of you, legs tucked close to him while continuously eyeing you from the corner of his eyes. A blush creeps onto his face when you look back at him with a smile.

“Congratulations on your win!” You scream into your cell, completely unfazed at the way people in the convenience store looked at you, “See! I told you that you’d win! Tsumu you were so cool with your last serve.”

Atsumu chuckles, a sudden boastful feeling in his throat, “Even better than Omi right?!”

Your voice falls silent, “Your serve was alright.”

“You’re supposed to be supporting me!” Atsumu whines, “Where are you right now?”

“Right now?” You exit the convenience store, staring up at the neon sign, “I’m leaving the store right now.”

“The one by the post office or the one by the chicken restaurant?”

You continue to walk, “The chicken restaurant. Why?”

Arms wrap around your waist, a shriek comes from your mouth as your lifted into the air, spun around excitedly as you hear his laugh. When he sets you down, you turn, hand slapping against his chest. The dim streetlight focusing on you both.

“You should be celebrating with your team.” You look up at him, the excitement in his expression has him practically wanting to jump all over the place.

The grin plastered on him is the brightest you had ever seen. He wraps his arm around your neck, pulling you along the pathway to your home, “I already did, now we need to celebrate!”

He presses a harsh kiss on your cheek, your hand automatically wipes the sloppy kiss, “Disgusting. I’m letting you get away with that because you won your game today.”

Foolishness on his lips, he takes the bag from your hands, carrying it the rest of the way to your place where he promptly raids your kitchen of food and drinks.

In the middle of the night he remains the only one awake, your head fallen on his shoulder as you drifted to slumber. Atsumu feels a lump in his throat, the alcohol in his system tells him to hold you close. He takes in the scent of your hair, his fingers lifted to push aside the strands from your face, he quickly pulls back when you stir. He’s wide awake that night, staring at the ceiling while you slept soundly in your bedroom and he on your couch. Atsumu raises a hand to peer at his fingertips, the warmth of your hair still hot against his skin.

There was a fine line with how Atsumu was feeling and it felt uncomfortable for him to be staring at the line. If he moved passed that line, it could jeopardize his friendship with you, his friendship with your brother, and it was absolutley agonizing. But it was just as terrible being on the safe side pining over you.

“Seriously?” Osamu quirks a brow to him, he laughs, “No way.”

Atsumu groans, forehead pressed against the counter of his brother’s restaurant, “I’m serious. Is it wrong?”

Osamu nods, “Very.”

Atsumu frowns, a defeat on his face when he looks at Osamu, “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

Osamu perks, “Oh I’m sorry. Please, I’m sure Rintarou would love you to date his sister who’s six years younger than us and who we practically watched grow.”

Atsumu slumps back to his position face down on the counter, “I’m a terrible person.” Atsumu moans, “She’s so pretty, and funny, and she gets me.” Atsumu sits straight up, “Like yesterday, she came by my practice and brought me lunch!”

Osamu crosses his arms, “Didn’t she bring that for her precious Omi. I saw her instagram post.”

“But she gave me mine first!” Atsumu pulls his fingers into a fist, “So because I’m first, she likes me more!” Atsumu’s lips fall to a scowl, “Right?”

Atsumu declared that his main problem; all other problems aside, such as your brother. How could he know if you liked him if all you ever looked at was Sakusa Kiyoomi.

It wasn’t easy but he managed to get you a priority pass into the venue of his game. It wasn’t your first time in the arena but it would be the first you actually watched him play in person and not behind a screen. You were quick to find Osamu setting up his onigiri stand, a chuckle on his lips when he saw you.

“Weren’t you invited by Atsumu?”

You tug your hat, a blank expression in your eyes, “Yeah, why?”

Osamu whips out his phone, you strike a quick pose at the shutter of his camera. The pictures were sent in a quick text to his brother. And just to clickbait him, Osamu sends a sweet and short text to make sure his brother would open the images.

She looks so adorable in the MSBY Black Jackals merch.

Atsumu never opened a text so quick, and he’s never felt betrayal so fast before. The jersey you wore while identical to his from the front, the back displayed Sakusa’s name and jersey number. The hat you adorned was knitted with Sakusa’s number and the side of the hat you’ve written his name in white marker against the black cap, hearts drawn cutely before and after his name. To add salt to the wound, there was a clear picture of your phone case, you’ve switched it out from the cute peach phone case he got you to a Sakusa Kiyoomi phone case.

“I hate you so much.” Atsumu holds his phone with a harsh grip, staring at his teammate.

“What?” Sakusa answers.

The game ended in a roar, Atsumu’s heated head channeled into the ball caused quite a few victory points. At one point, he was thinking about accidentally serving a ball to the back of Sakusa’s head but that would only result in you caring for the man more. He could imagine you pushing him aside to tend to your precious Omi.

Many fans lingered once the game was over, Atsumu found himself surrounded by reporters but the corner of his eyes caught your figure walking past security and onto the main ground. His words drawing out as you skipped your way to Sakusa; the hat on your head pulled off as you asked him for an autograph on your hat.

“Hey!” Atsumu jogs to the two of you, his arm finding themselves on your shoulders.

“You did absolutely amazing Omi!” You brush Atsumu’s arm off and he frowns.

Sakusa puts a mask on, “Thank you.”

When he walks away, you’re still starstruck, the hat in your hand held tightly. Atsumu glares daggers into the back of his teammate’s head. The moment you turn to him, Atsumu is smiling.

“Look!” You’re shoving the hat into his face, “He signed my hat!”

Atsumu pretends to be excited, “Next thing you know, he’ll sign your shirt!”

You gasp, “Do you think he would? Wait.” You turn, attempting to run away from him, “I must go find him again.” You giggle when Atsumu catches your arm, pulling you back to him, “I guess the Miya Atsumu would do.”

He takes in your playful eyes, mischievousness on your lips, and the way your cheeks grow when you look at him. If he wasn’t so hopelessly in love, maybe he would have already kissed your lips.

“Want to take a picture?” Atsumu slips his hand to take your phone from your back pocket, a gesture making you smack his arm.

A small pout on his lips when he notices that your wallpaper is still one with Sakusa; but he recruits one of his other teammates to take a picture. Atsumu’s hands dance on your waist, pulling you into him, pressing his cheek against yours, practically trying to crush you into him, you’re laughing. He finds it adorable.

“I’ll wait for you.” You tell him as he leaves to the locker rooms.

You’re scrolling through your cell phone, the pictures on your phone grinning back at you. A slow smile emerges on your lips, Atsumu’s hands on your waist trying to hold you still even though you know he’s trying to tickle you. Your finger holds onto the photo, what follows is a short video of yours and his smile growing larger. Out of impulse, you set the image as your lock screen.

“Gotcha!”

You jump, head whipping back to find your brother staring down at you, “Gosh!” You hit him, “You’re so annoying. Go away!” You attempt to smack his leg but he retracts quickly.

Rintarou pokes the hat on your head, “Did your boyfriend sign the hat for you, is that why you’re so happy?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You speak up, “he’s the best player on the Black Jackals!” You stick your tongue out to him, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice or something.”

He points behind him, “Samu and I are going out to eat, thought I’d watch the end of the game. What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting for Tsumu. We were going to go out to eat too.”

“Great.” He narrows his eyes, “Let’s all go together then.”

For some reason, it was painfully awkward for Atsumu. Osamu found it painfully amusing and the Suna siblings shared one brain cell, focusing their attention on the food. The moment all four of you walked into the restaurant, Atsumu almost instinctively chose the seat next to you; the sudden awareness of your brother in the room had him switching seats rapidly.

“So.” Osamu began, “How come you don’t have a boyfriend yet?”

Atsumu begins to cough, a sheepish grin on your lips, Rintarou doesn’t pay attention to the question.

“I guess no guy has piqued my interest yet.” Your hand covers your mouth, attempting to chew and talk at the same time, “I’ve dated here and there but nothing serious yet.”

Osamu nods, “You’re still young, how old are you now?”

You swallow, “Twenty-one.”

Osamu puts a hand onto his brother’s shoulder, “Did you hear that Tsumu, twenty-one.” Atsumu tries drinking water to cease his coughing, “That means that we’re six years apart, right?”

Rintarou finally looks up, “Why are you so suddenly interested in our age difference?”

Atsumu coughs once more, “It’s not like age differences matter.”

Your brother’s actions stop, “Why would the age difference matter in this situation?”

Atsumu and Osamu cough, their food going down the wrong pipe at the same time. In that moment, you steal food from your brother’s plate, the action diverting his attention from the twins. Like siblings, you bicker with your brother as he steals from your plate this time.

The ride home was just as painful. You sat in the back seat, Osamu driving, Atsumu in the passenger side, and your brother with you in the back. The only sound coming from the radio and you kept yourself occupied with your cell phone; not a care in the world that there was some tension in the car.

“I’ll see you guys. Rin, make sure you remember next month is mom’s birthday. Let’s spit a gift.” You wave to the three boys before running off into your apartment building.

The air in the car suddenly thick. Rintarou sits up, hands placed on the shoulders of Atsumu’s seat, “The age difference joke.” Atsumu feels his soul leaving his body, “I’d prefer it if you lay off.” Rintarou slumps back into his seat, “But I don’t care, do as you see fit.” Atsumu looks at him through the passenger side mirror, “I don’t control your lives.”

Atsumu wonders if that was his friend’s way of giving his blessing.

“You still like me better than your brother, right?” Atsumu pokes at you from the seat on your couch.

You roll your eyes, “Will you be quiet if I say yes?” Atsumu nods, “Then yes mister clingy, I like you so much more than my brother.”

Atsumu grins, “How about Omi?”

You shoot him a glare, “You’re stretching it pretty far there.”

There’s a moment of silence before he lets out a deep sigh, one that you’ve suddenly grown accustomed to understanding that he wanted attention.

“You know what we never do?” Atsumu shuffles in his seat.

You look at him, “Is it be quiet?”

Atsumu pokes your cheek, “Nope.” He pulls away when you try to bite his finger, “We never talk about our past. We literally grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same school, knew the same people.”

“First off.” You’ve turned to fully look at him now, “We went to the same school but never attended at the same time and second, we know the same people because you’re friends with my brother.” Your shoulders shrugged, “You gotta admit, we didn’t get close until almost two years ago when you inserted yourself into my life.”

Atsumu grins happily, “Now you’re blessed with me.”

“More like cursed.” You swat his hand away when he tries to touch your nose.

“What about your first crush or love?” Atsumu tilts his head to you, “Mine was this girl I was dating when I was eighteen. Boy, I thought she was the cutest girl ever until she got extra clingy and jealous. I thought she was going to claw my eyes out.” Atsumu laughs, when he notices that you lack laughter, he pokes your sides, “You?”

“Mine?” Your eyes can’t meet his gaze, “It was you.” Atsumu freezes, perhaps his ears played a joke on him. Suddenly when you look into his eyes, your lips smile, “Yeah, I had the biggest crush on you when I was ten. Isn’t that funny?”

But he doesn’t laugh, his hands cover his face to hide the blush, “That’s so cute.” Atsumu pinches your cheek, “Little you had a crush on me?” You smother a pillow into his face, but it doesn’t drown out his sounds, “It’s absolutely precious!”

“Shut up!” You screech.

He pulls the pillow away, he’s laid out on the couch now, your legs positioned on either side of his hips and with the removal of the pillow in his face, his hands grasp your wrists, the sudden realization that you were straddling him had heat coming out of his ears.

“Sorry.” You pull away. Atsumu shrinks to the opposite side of the couch, face hot as you get up, “I’m gonna order us some food.” Your arm covers your face, trying to hide the heat that’s rushed to your cheeks.

“That’s different.” Osamu notices your phone case, “Wasn’t it a Sakusa one before?”

You lift your phone, “Yeah, my other phone case got dirty and I saw an Atsumu one. The Sakusa ones were sold out so I just thought why not.”

“Interesting.” When he states that you shrug, moving along to find your seat in the arena. Osamu peers over the side of his cart, staring at the overabundance of Sakusa Kiyoomi phone cases in the stall next to him. Osamu merely laughs, “They’re so stupid.”

Atsumu finds himself once again surrounded by reporters, his hands wave signaling that they could talk to anyone else but him, even pushing his other teammate to the reporters.

“Excuse me, can I have your autograph?”

Atsumu tries to smile politely, “Sorry, maybe next time.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll just go find Omi.” Atsumu does a doubletake, his lips spread into a fine grin.

His arms pulling you into a hug, you repress trying to let out a sound of disgust when you realize he’s all sweaty, “What are you doing here?” Atsumu’s fingers run through a strand of your hair, “I thought you were working?”

“I was and then suddenly.” You folded your hands into a fist, coughing into it slowly with a mischievous smile, “I got sick.”

Atsumu uses a finger to push your head back, “You shouldn’t be lying at work.”

Your eyes quickly dart to behind him, “Quick! There’s Omi!” You grab Atsumu’s arm, “Can you take a picture of me and him please!”

It took a little convincing and some rules, but Sakusa complied to the photo. Atsumu grips your phone, an eerie grin on him as he sees that Sakusa places a hand onto the small of your back. But as Atsumu turns on your phone, the happy picture of the two of you washes over him. As he tries to swipe to go to the camera, the picture plays into a short video and for a second, he feels love wash over him.

“Tsumu!” Your voice wakes him from his thought. He’s quick to take pictures and you skip to him after thanking Sakusa for the pictures. Your lips fall into a scowl, “Tsumu! They’re all blurry!”

Atsumu is walking away from you, he shrugs his shoulders as he heads to the locker rooms, “I guess I don’t have a steady hand.” He’s laughing as you yell at him.

Atsumu finds himself slowly walking, he sees you leaning against a pillar, cell phone in your hand, just waiting for him. He finds himself wanting to admire you for a little bit longer, he wants to run his fingers through your hair and most importantly, he wants to feel what it would be like to kiss you.

“Were you slow motion walking here or something?” You laugh.

But Atsumu doesn’t feel like laughing right now, he feels like he wants you; more than anything he’s ever wanted before. The look in his eyes change as he’s suddenly rubbing a thumb over your cheek.

“If I’m crossing a line.” Atsumu’s eyes dart to your lips, “Just tell me to stop.”

He’s leaning down, your back pressed against the pillar. One of his hands rests on your hip the other still a caressing your cheek. He lets himself pause before your lips; eyes deeply lost in yours before he takes the dive. He’s absolutely immersed in you, your arms bring him deeper in and he’s euphoric. He dips in, pushing your head back to bump against the pillar. You let out a groan, pushing his arms away as your hand flies to the back of your head.

You chuckle, “A little too eager there.”

“Sorry.” Atsumu bites his lower lip, the seconds ago just barely registering in his head, “Was that alright?”

“Do you want some kind of grade?” You purse your lips, “Maybe a B+.” You tease but Atsumu pouts. Your fingers tug on his jacket, palms against his cheeks to pull him down, pressing a quick peck to his lips, “Does that answer your question?”

Your footsteps begin to walk away from him. You look at him from over your shoulder; he still seemed stunned, but the way you moved drew him in.

“If you’re going to just stand there, I might just go ahead and find Omi.”

Like a puppy, he runs to you; hands reaching out to you as you begin to scamper through the hall. A delighted squeal leaves your mouth when he catches up, arms encasing you in a hug; he’s pressing a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“So, we’re just supposed to get used to this now?” Osamu watches Atsumu throw an arm around your shoulders, his brother sticking his tongue out childishly, “What are you so smug about, you spent practically two years pining over her.”

Rintarou sighs, suddenly feeling uneasy about the situation, “I thought you knew better. I told you to not associate yourself with Atsumu.”

Your fingers interlock with Atsumu’s, the siblings in front of the two of you continue to yammer but their voices are drowned out with Atsumu pressing his lips against your hair. He feels the need to draw his seat closer to you, and your brother scowls.

Atsumu lets go of you with a shriek, the hot soup spilled onto his pants.

“Rin!” You shout.

“He crossed the line.”

Your brother hogs the napkins, Osamu laughs loudly, and you watch your boyfriend scream in agony. You roll your eyes at your brother, after all, you were still his little sister and he can’t just have anyone trying to make a move on you.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #atsumu #atsumu miya

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mothandpidgeon · 3 years

Text

Pedro from the Phone - Part 2

PART 1

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Pedro Across the Street x You

Summary: After Pedro tries to connect with you in person, he continues receiving mysterious phone calls but you have strange news. This is the follow up to Part 1.

Words: ~1600

Rating: all ages? (sorry this is not sexy)

Warnings: even more pining???

A/N: I really thought this was going to be a one shot and I liked the open ended mystery of this fic. Honestly I wasn’t even sure anyone was going to be into it to begin with. But I was totally shocked! I have never gotten so many requests for more on my writing and I am just a whore for your love. (OK that’s not entirely true. I wouldn’t write more of this if I didn’t think it was working.) Anyway, the people have spoken. So I’m super curious if you like where it went or if I ruined a good thing!

(And I’m working on some actual Calls smut so stay tuned for that.)

---now

Your foot was bouncing uncontrollably under the table. Your heart was drumming. You’d ordered a coffee but it was impossible to drink it when your stomach was doing backflips.

You were sitting outside the cafe in your normal seat. You’d been so excited that you’d gotten there 20 minutes early. You’d done your hair carefully and picked out one of your favorite outfits. You were going to meet Pedro. In the flesh.

You couldn’t believe how nervous you were. It seemed like you already knew him so well, there was no reason to feel intimidated. But you had butterflies. Maybe it was because your friendship was, of course, due to bizarre circumstances. And those circumstances had meant you’d gotten to know him better than some friends you’d had for years.

Life had been so boring before Pedro. You could get lost in the sound of his voice. And even though the phone calls baffled you, you’d grown to anticipate them— checking your phone over and over. You remembered how empty it had felt when the phone stopped ringing. You’d really thought you’d lost him forever. And you’d wondered if he even thought about you or if he had just been grateful the interruptions were over.

But you’d finally gotten another mysterious call yesterday, woken up in the middle of the night like a dream. You really had thought you’d been dreaming when you heard him say, “We should meet up.”

You chewed on your bottom lip. Every time a man passed by, you wondered if it was Pedro. No, that guy seemed too skinny. Too young. Too short. Could you even tell someone’s height by their voice alone?

You checked the time on your phone. 11:59. 12:00. 12:01. Your phone rang and you dove for it.

“Pedro, where are you?” you asked. You wished you could hide how excited you sounded.

“What? I’m right here,” he said. His voice sounded strangled.

“I don’t see you. I’m sitting out front,” you said. There were no other people at the cafe that were alone. You spotted a man walking down the sidewalk but he wasn’t on the phone. Maybe Pedro had gotten the address wrong. But something in your gut told you that wasn’t it.

Maybe he realized what a bad idea it was to meet an absolute stranger. Maybe your first instincts had been right all along. Maybe you should be thanking your lucky stars that you hadn’t just walked into the hands of some kind of creep.

“I think I have to call you back,” Pedro said. He didn’t sound right.

Your hand shook under the phone. “What? Wait,” you tried.

Now you didn’t care about how panicked you sounded. If he hung up, would you ever hear from him again?

“I’m standing right in front of you but….this doesn't make any sense,” he said.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

You stood up, eyes searching around for a man whose face you wouldn’t recognize.

“I don’t understand,” Pedro said. “I’m sorry-”

The line went dead.

Your mind was swimming. You felt like you might cry. Why would you do that? You didn’t actually know Pedro at all, you realized, and expecting him to show up had been foolish. There wasn’t going to be a handsome man attached to that voice. You’d gotten your hopes up. You’d gotten ahead of yourself. You’d fallen in love with a fantasy.

You stood there, trembling, clutching the phone against your ear even though there was no one on the other end.

“Hey.” Behind you came a familiar voice.

You turned around. It was him. Somehow you just knew it. He was tall and broad with dark hair, a few strands of silver. His strong, tan jaw was dotted with patches of scruff. He looked at you nervously, his brows furrowed. His soft, dark eyes were sparkling with longing.

“Pedro?” you breathed, overwhelmed by the sight of him. None of this made a lick of sense.

He nodded and he broke out in a smile, looking over your face like you were an oasis in the desert.

---then

“I don’t understand,” Pedro said.

He was standing at the cafe, looking down at your nervous face. You didn’t have a clue about who he was, it was painfully obvious. And now he could see how anxious he was making you. You were edging your purse into your lap.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought you were someone else.”

He’d hung up the phone. He got out of there as quickly as he could. He couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. He’d seen you there, right in front of him, heard your voice. It was unmistakable. But it wasn’t you. How could you exist in two places at once? He sat in his car for a long time, staring down at the blank screen of his phone, shaken.

He didn’t get another call for a week. Although he missed you, he had been so confused about the situation and so embarrassed by how much it had disturbed him, he almost didn’t want to hear from you again. But now the phone had decided it was time to connect you. He looked at the phone for a long time, frozen. At the last second, he picked up.

“Hi,” you said. You sounded cheerful.

“What the hell happened?” Pedro asked, resigned.

“It’s you,” you said with a quiet laugh. “This is so weird.”

You had trouble explaining what, exactly, was going on. You told him that he had shown up at the cafe except it wasn’t him exactly, not the same Pedro that had been on the phone. But the two of you had shared a coffee, hit it off. In fact, you’d just met up again for dinner and you’d had such a good time.

“But-”

“I know,” you said. “You told me.”

He’d told you that he’d been waiting since that first time at the cafe, that he’d been talking to you, even still, for months on the phone. This whole thing was crazy. These phone calls seemed to have jumped the track of time or reality or something. You didn’t really believe in that kind of thing. You barely had to because you had met Pedro as promised. It didn’t matter why it had happened or how. You were just so giddy.

“I think I like you, Pedro,” you said bashfully into the phone.

It made his heart melt but he felt something else. Was it possible to be envious of himself? Some version of himself from the future or some other dimension?

The phone kept ringing and every time, Pedro picked up. It was still you. You spoke to him with even deeper familiarity than you had before.

“How’s work going, babe?”

You were getting to do more of the things you had talked about.

“We’re going away for the weekend. Driving up the coast.”

It made Pedro even more desperate to be with you. You asked him a lot of questions about what he was doing but it seemed like you already knew the answers. You and Pedro, your Pedro, were growing closer.

Pedro would go to the cafe every Saturday. He felt like he was insane, sitting inside, watching you write. Wishing that time would speed up so he could start living this life he’d been hearing all about. Sometimes he would see you laughing into your phone and he knew that you were talking to him, a conversation he’d already had.

Some days, bitterness drove him to doubt and he questioned whether there was truth to anything you were saying. But then you’d mention something that made him realize you knew him like no one else. Things he’d never told anyone.

“You shouldn’t feel so insecure around your neighbors.”

Things he barely remembered.

“It always frightened you as a kid when the wicked witch’s feet rolled up under the house.”

Pedro had it all figured out and he knew soon he wouldn’t have to wait any longer. You’d go to the cafe to meet him and your phone would ring. It was all he could think about.

When he spoke to you on the phone now, it seemed like you were distracted, distant. You didn’t always linger on the call the way you used to. Maybe it wasn’t going to work and all this waiting was for nothing.

“You sound down,” you said.

“Just tired,” he lied.

He knew that you knew every intonation in his voice.

“You can tell me, you know,” you said. “I love you.”

You were both silent for a long moment. Maybe you’d realized that that wasn’t something you’d said to Pedro, this Pedro on the phone. He wasn’t sure how to respond. His mouth went dry and his breath caught in his throat.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said and rushed off of the phone.

It was Saturday. Pedro went to the cafe and sat at the window. There you were with your coffee, your foot bouncing under the table. He was so nervous now. What if this went like the last time? You’d told him that this was what had happened to you but it was impossible to know that for sure. None of this could even be explained so how could it be guaranteed to work out in a particular way?

It had been almost a year since that first call. Maybe he’d been driven completely mad.

Pedro ran his hand through his hair and steadied himself with a breath. You were on the phone, your head craning to see down the street. He wanted to touch you, to hold you against him and know that you were real. His heart was racing. He tried to push back the memory of the last time he stood in front of you. You were on your feet now, head flipping back and forth frantically. He went out through the door of the cafe. You still had your phone pressed to your ear. Pedro came up behind you.

“Hey.”

---

tagging everybody that asked for more: @pascalslittlebrat @libbymouse @danniburgh @a-bang-for-your-bucky @fangirl-316 @metalarmsandmanbuns @mouthymandalorian @bisexualolympus @wheresarizona @rebelliouscat @pedro-pastel @sleep-tight1 @pedrocentric @tigpooh67 @christina-loves @dindaddy-ficrec @patternedlantern @freeshavocadoooo @yespolkadotkitty @221bshrlocked @purplepascal042 @starlightmornings

#give the people what they want #calls #calls fic #pedro across the street #pedro across the street fic #pedro across the street x you #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #calls apple tv +

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truglori · 3 years

Text

Homebody (Ch.1)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Durkio Faceclaim

Alexis Faceclaim

Amiyah Faceclaim

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black OC

Warning: language

Kicking off the covers from her legs for the fifth time that night Amiyah flipped over on the left side of the bed relieving herself from pressure that she felt on her right shoulder.

Picking up her phone she saw the time of 12:46 am. It wasn’t the discomfort she felt in her sleep or the extremely warm temperature of her room that woke her up. It was the blaring from her Durkio’s speaker that was gifted to him from himself as an early birthday present. She was cool with it the first couple of times, seeing as she used it as well to play music whenever she wanted to clean her room but this was starting to become annoying.

In the next five hours she had to be up early to open the clothing store she worked at. Durkio likes his music to be played loudly but for some reason tonight it was blasting.

Getting out of bed and slipping on her black UGG Tasman slippers Amiyah went to open the door and was met with the aroma of weed.

“Damn I guess the music isn’t the only thing that’s loud.” She tiredly giggled at her own humor.

Took Her to the O by King Von was the choice of song that woke her from her beauty rest. Shaking her head as she folded her arms she walked down the hall of their shared three bedroom apartment to see the dimmed living room foggy.

Swatting away the smoke she walked closer to the couch preparing to get onto her brother.

“Yo Durk, you know I have to get up for work in a few hours. Can you turn the speakers down or off please?”

Amiyah coughed through almost every word. She didn’t smoke so whenever she inhaled the air would hit her baby lungs causing her to react.

The music level turned down. Finally what seemed like forever the smoke was clearing the living room so she could see the face of her brother...or who she thought was her brother. It was Erik.

Leaning forward he put out his blunt on the ashtray, then he dusted off any remains of falling ashes from his dark grey Nike sweatsuit he rested his elbows on his knees.

Looking up at her with hooded eyes he licked his lips and the famous “sober up wipe” to the face followed after.

“Damn that’s my bad Miyah. I was in here just letting my phone play. I woke you up?” He asked with a small smile.

“Yeah a lil bit but it’s okay.” She spoke in a soft voice that was different compared to the tone she poke in before she found out it wasn’t her brother but her brother’s best friend and also..her crush.

Awkwardly standing there with her arms going back into their folding position making herself feel secured once she cover her tummy she decided to walk to the black leather recliner on the left side of him sitting down. She found herself being really close to him unlike any other times. Inhaling the air she could smell his cologne mix with the weed.

“Um, where’s Durkio?”

“He went out to the car to grab something real quick. He’ll be back.”

Erik got up putting everything that was laid out on the coffee table up. From the bags of weed by the pound to three glock 17s that was sprawled out everywhere. He knew this wasn’t new to her or anything but he wanted to be respectful to his partna’s lil sister. Even though he was the only child he knew that if he did had a baby sister he would want his boys to show the same respect.

Amiyah watched his every move. From the way he gave his sweats a tug around the inner thigh area giving him some room to breathe down there to then observing him pulling up the sweats before he sat down.

There she was doing it again, acting like a little stalker over this man. But she couldn’t help it. She found herself crushing on the best friend of her brother really hard. She was introduced to Erik at the age of seventeen. Just getting out of high school while her brother was already making a name for himself in the streets at twenty-three.

Durkio was coming up from being know for having the best exotics in the hood, some untouchable shit. He started to get more exposure and also more enemies. So along came his homeboy Erik, standing 6’3 and about 225 lbs solid. By the age of twenty-one he was already known to be a problem. Hot headed and a crazy mouth to match but also in a strange way quiet. It was like he knew when to turn it off and on. She notice that whenever she was around the duo he would be barely audible and sometimes completely quiet when she would walk into a room. Taking only glances at her and continued to keep it pushing.

Maybe that’s what she liked about him. Not only did they share the same characteristics when it came to not saying a lot while around others but he also didn’t try to put up a front in front of Durkio. His other homeboys did too much by just talking excessively to her about nothing while trying not to say the wrong thing too her to stay on the good side of her brother.

Amiyah wasn’t the only one doing some studying. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of her from the moment she stepped into the living room. He watched the twenty-one year old face turn from hard to soft as soon as she seen it was him in the place of where her brother usually sits.

Even through his hooded eyes he caught her covering her stomach and setting herself up in a defensive position, something he notice she always did when he was around. To Erik it seemed as if she was doing it because she wasn’t comfortable around him so he stopped his eyes from wandering over her body and other times not acknowledging her other than a head nod.

He already knew how his mans Durkio felt about his little sister. He was going to kill whoever did her wrong, let alone even looked at her like they had a problem. In Eriks eyes Amiyah was considered hood royalty. It wasn’t all talk either. A few months ago there was a young recruit that tried to get Amiyah’s number, who clearly wasn’t interested turned him down in the most modest way. Youngin tried to show out in front of his friends and slipped up and called her a fat bitch.

Once word got to Durkio he had the whole hood searching for the kid and when he found him, not only did he have the dude friends jump him my nigga literally fed him a bag of dog shit and made him eat it. Swallowing every drop.

“Yeah nigga you like to talk shit so you gon eat this muthafucka! You lucky I don’t get one of ya own mans to pop yo ass folk!”

Erik shook his head inwardly laughing about how the whole situation unfolded in front of him. Durkio was one crazy ass nigga! That’s why they was best friends though. Their personalities just matched.

Even though Erik to himself wasn’t official in the game a lot of people seem to think so. But that wasn’t the case, to him he felt he was just heavily associated with the ones surrounding it. Guess you can say his name got caught in the wrong mouth and they titled him without knowing the facts. He didn’t care though, he figured people was going to think what they wanted about him anyways so why try so hard to prove them wrong.

“Erik.” Amiyah looked over to seem him leaning back into the couch with his hands in his hoodie pocket. He was smiling to himself about something. She wondered what.

“Wassup.” He answered nonchalantly giving her his undivided attention

“Do you know how long he’s been gone?”

“Oh I’m not sure, I think five minutes or so. You want me to leave or something?” Erik asked on edge ruffling up his dreads a bit not wanting her to feel guarded in her own home.

Truth was Amiyah didn’t care so much about her brother’s whereabouts. She wanted to use these few minutes alone with him to feed her fantasies. Imagining just them two in his home not worrying about Durk busting in on them.

“No of course not. You’re good. I-I was just being nosy.” She tried her best laughing the nerves away while mentally face palming herself for stuttering.

Erik smirk. He could see the quiver in her bottom lip when she spoke. She was trying to hide it but it wasn’t working.

“Nah I feel you. You work tomorrow?” Deciding to spark up some conversation to help her relax with him.

“Yeah I open the store. So I have to be out of here by six in the morning.” Pushing her back against the recliner lifting one leg under the other she made herself cozy.

“Bella Ella Boutique right.”

Her eyes flickering at the fact he knew where she worked.

‘So he must pay attention to me.’

Is what she thought. If it wasn’t for her golden brown skin complexion she would be sure that Erik would know that she is blushing.

Along with a head nod she gave a small smile answering quietly. “Yeah that’s right.” She shifted her eyes not wanting to keep to much eye contact.

“You like working there? How long has it been by the way?” Resting his elbows on his knees once again, facing her, he gave her all his attention.

Placing her hands between her thick thighs to help calm her nerves she put her eye back on him.

“It’s okay...it’s just I wish they would hurry up and hire some new people already. Like I’ve been working so many hours and-“

She stopped mid sentence once she heard him chuckle.

Lightly giggling herself she shook her head. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” Erik swiping his bottom lip with his tongue before giving her a small smile.

This was the most he heard her talk this much in a while. Usually she would only say hi and bye and then every now and then ask about her brother but tonight she was keeping conversation like they were friends.

“Why am I funny? What I say?” Curious to know the reason.

“It’s nothing bad mama I just never heard you talk this much before. You be acting mad quiet around me.” Leaning back putting one arm at the top of the couch and resting the other on top of his crotch area.

Amiyah took in his form.

Did he just call me mama?

She couldn’t help catching his nickname.

Hit Different by Sza started playing softly in the background.

“Okay but you can talk to me too. I’m not the only one with a voice Erik.”

“You right and I’m a change that for you. When I come around I’ll start addressing you more. Is that good?” Staring into her soft brown eyes searching for an answer.

Playfully rolling her eyes trying her best to subdue her smile.

“Whatever-“

The front door open revealing her brother. Holding a bag of Burger King eating some fries.

“Aye my bad nigga I had to get sumn to smack on- Miyah fuck is you doing outta bed?” Durkio stop rummaging through the food once he saw her.

Erik scooting down further away from her towards the middle of the couch not trying to give his crazy ass any ideas.

“Uh Durk last time I checked I’m grown.”

He looked at her like she had four eyes.

“Girl you better quit acting like I ain’t raise damn near by myself. You bet get yo ass back in that bed fo’ yo ass miss work then you gon want me to pay you for the hours you miss.” He sat the bag of food down next to the ashtray that held about four roach blunts.

“Nigga she only out here cause I was blasting the music. I woke her up.” Erik winking at her defending her.

Her thighs clenched up at the small action.

I know he did not just make me wet by winking at me?

Of course this was only due to her inexperience. She never got pass kissing a guy and even that she felt needed some work.

Knocking her out of her thoughts her loud brother spoke again.

“Erik I don’t need you sticking up or lying for her and nigga where the fuck my weed at?”

He got up checking the cabinets pulling out a half ounce before looking back to see that his baby sister in the same spot.

“Miyah why you still here?” He asked breaking up the bud.

To people on the outside it may seem like Durkio was a mean brother but he really didn’t mean her any harm. That was just always how he was. He had a rough demeanor, so when he spoke it could come off offensive if you didn’t know him but both Amiyah and Erik knew that was just his mannerism. But all in all he loves his baby sister.

She smacked her lips. “I can’t hang out with y’all?”

“No. Hell is wrong with ‘dis girl?” He asked his friend chuckling.

Erik silently laughing at the bickering siblings. He unwrapped the whopper that he got from the bag before taking a bite while closing his eyes and savoring the grilled burger. Fast food always hit different when he was high.

Shaking her head she decided against arguing back and forth with her brother. She had to get up in a few anyways so it was time for her to head back to bed.

“Whatever I’m going back to bed. Night. Night Erik.” Getting up from the couch making her way out the living room area she turned to look at the duo one last time.

She caught Erik looking her up and down before giving her a head nod acknowledging her and mouthing a good night.

Disappearing in the hall and back into the room she sat on her bed replaying the conversation over and over which brought back the memory of his scent. Somehow she could still smell him as if he was right in front of her.

Smiling to herself she got up checking the time on her Apple Watch on her nightstand that read 1:34 am.

She had a few hours to get some sleep. Taking a last glance at herself in the mirror she realized she still had on her light blue silk bonnet the whole time in front of Erik.

Nooo.

Laughing at the embarrassing thought she shrugged it off before sleep took over her body again.

___________________________________________________

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

Hey guys this is my first story on here. Haven’t wrote in a while and so I just wanted to try it out again just to see if I still have it in me lol. I have a few ideas for this story but I’m not sure...anyways let me know what you guys think. Constructive criticism is allowed here.

P.s If I tagged you I probably read your work or I just want to see if you would be interested in this story. If you don’t like it I can take you off so sorry if you might not be interested.

Please excuse any mistakes if there are any. Thanks!!

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @artisticestheticreads @uzumaki-rebellion @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy @thehomierobbstark @thiccdaddy-mbaku @curls-and-crosses @madamslayyy @goddessofthundathighs @eriksjournal @erikslulbaby @wakandamama @wawakanda-btch @wakandas-vibranium @wakandaforeverwrites @ghostfacekill-monger @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink

#erik killmonger #erik stevens #Erik smut #black panther #Erik x plus size reader #Erik x thick OC #homebody #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #truglori

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may-day-voice · 3 years

Text

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/zBq6DB8NS3I

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The Rook

Part of Villain AU Phase One | 122532019

Your heart fluttered in your chest, breathing slowly and silently in a cramped small space, tucking your legs close to your chest in an attempt to shrink into a ball.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," cooed the smooth voice, his boots slowly trekking through the commercial kitchen. You dared not peek from your hiding spot, eyeing the warped reflection of his body against the silver surfaces of the cabinetry. Not much has changed, except for those gnarled, tattered wings that draped along the floor behind him.

"Oh come on Pidge. This game is getting old," he purred, his wings fluttering violently against the tables, shuddering the cutlery with a brutish clang. Your shoulders hitched from the sound, clasping your hands around your mouth to keep your breath still. As long as you breathed quietly, he may not find you.

Your eyes peered towards the roof of the kitchen, visualizing yourself still in your hiding spot while the map of the kitchen laid before you in a shadowy reflection. There amongst the map, stood Hawks, his eyes still scanning the kitchen while you began to visualize all probabilities available to him and you. Many revealed failed escape attempts, a few highlighted failure staying where you were; with each probable outcome, the hope of escape was extremely slim.

His boots scuffed before you, still hiding in that tiny hole between the tables. He stopped where he stood, turning every once in a while to survey the empty commercial kitchen, twirling a bright rouge feather in his fingers. He stared at the tiny down, smirking at its colour and vibrancy.

"Smart of you to leave this behind Pidge. You've caught on real quick," he mused while the feather floated in his palm, still attached to its necklace. "But a promise is a promise, and I'm here to return it back to you."

You stared back at the ceiling, ignoring his legs to find that your chances were slipping away with each passing breath. Would he walk by? Or would he find you? You knew he knew better. It all came down to tactical strategy and advantage. He would play his Bishop, which left you with-

"Found you Pidge!"

You kicked into his face as hard as your legs could spring from your hiding spot, catching him off guard briefly before you leapt out and ran for the exit. Your Knight had to take the place of a pawn, leaving you some breathing space to escape. You slammed into the swinging double doors, running down the hall towards the lobby where you had three choices. Exit the building, find your way to the underground garage, or call for help from the reception. You had to keep yourself six steps ahead and find your pawns to halt his advance. The numbers ran through your head, the percentages of success depending on Hawks' recovery and his speed. Getting out would mean a great advantage to the Flying Hero, calling for help was an outlying choice dependent on who would receive your call and for how long. Out of all of your choices, the quickest to give you some time was the underground garage.

Your feet echoed in the dark and empty lobby, only lit by the moonlight through the large windows that revealed the illuminated street lights of the city. Your eyes darted between the elevator or the stairs. Which one would give you more time?

A slam of the doors echoed from behind, revealing Hawks soaring through the hall before he emerged into the lobby, floating above the expanse of the room with his eyes darting everywhere. His blind left eye was of no use, relying so much on his only functioning eye to spot the lights of the elevator illuminate, sending the box to the lobby floor. He floated towards the ground until a sliver of light caught his eye, catching the fire emergency door slowly and hauntingly close. A smirk crawled on his lips before his feet landed on the floor, fluttering his wings from the strain. He stared at the door, contemplating his own choices before he entered through it, taking the flight of stairs down.

The lobby fell silent again, except for the ding of the elevator's door opening absently on the floor. You slowly peeked your head from the reception desk, having hidden under it for the time Hawks had witnessed his available choices. He had an advantage on you in the long run if you had continued to run, exerting all your energy into escaping with the likelihood of Hawks catching up to you. Bluffing was your only option to give you some time.

With Hawks having taken the bait, you carefully collected the phone from the desk, taking the machine under with you. You didn't want to take any chances of Hawks realizing any movement from above now at this stage of the game.

Dialing a set of numbers, you were met with a familiar dial tone, shrinking yourself into a ball with the reception phone in your lap. Your breath was still again, inhaling slowly and exhaling quietly.

"If I show you, then I know you won't tell what I said," spoke a young voice on the line, the gruffness lining his irritation.

"Cause two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead," you answered in a low whisper, still with a quiet breath.

"Hey, where are you?" Asked the voice laced with worry and surprise despite that gruff undertone.

"The old Commission building," you whispered.

"This whole time?"

"Hawks is here too," you continued, eyeing the ceiling once more. "Look, I don't know how long I have left hiding here until he realizes my bluff. What's the status over there?"

"We're on standby. Things are out of control. We've lost our lead investigator for... Deku." The voice strained when it uttered the name, hearing the disdain and the hurt.

"I'm sorry Izumi," you spoke, eyeing your probable outcomes along the tall ceiling of the lobby, eyeing your chances of escape growing slimingly thin.

"Anyway, our insider is still on the case about Todoroki, and we've informed them to advise others out in the field," continued Kota.

"How is Eri?"

"Fine."

You still controlled your breathing, forcing your reaction to his abrupt reply down into the pit of your stomach. He had always been protective of Eri. Not at first, but when the world flipped on its head, it became his purpose. You smiled inwardly at the thought, lucky to find upcoming Heroes in the making in these darker times.

"We can get to you-"

"No," you interrupted. "This is Riot Territory. I don't want you to run in head first while Red Riot is roaming about."

"Then, what do you want us to do?"

Your eyes darted with every outcome that played out on the ceiling above, the shadowy reflection revealing all possibilities with varying levels of failure. In the end, your heart sank. You've reached the endgame phase with only two options left - both zugzwang.

"Hey, are you listening?" spoke Izumi, his voice anxious. "We can't let them have you!"

"I'm sorry Izumi," you whispered, halting the quiet breaths you forced yourself to breathe. "You need to look after Eri. She's going to have to make a big decision soon."

"No, no, no, don't you dare make that decision," he retorted. "It's not yours to make!"

"Make sure the Shimanos are present as well. Eri trusts Katsuma just as much she does with you," you suggested while you slowly stood to your feet from under the desk.

"Stop talking like we're going ahead with that decision. I hated the fact that dumbass even thought of the plan. We are not going ahead with that plan."

You smiled at his irate response, while you placed the phone on the reception desk, now out of hiding. The lobby was silent except for the echo of your voice filling the room, breathing freely from your practiced silent breaths earlier during the night.

"Izumi-"

"We need you back here! We've lost too much now, we can't lose anymore!" His voice echoed through the earpiece, adding an echo in the lobby while you smiled at his reply.

"Then win," you replied calmly. "Win the fight where we couldn't."

You immediately ended the call, slamming the phone into the desk before the rush of air slammed through the emergency doors. Feathers circled around you, grabbing hold of your clothes and carrying you inches from the floor. Hawks entered the lobby, his now featherless wings bearing the scarred tissue left behind from his injuries years ago. His eyes stared into yours, grabbing hold of your chin to force your gaze into his.

"Thought you could outsmart me Pidge?" He queried with a teasing grin. "You almost had me."

"Almost," you emphasized. "I still had you going."

"Yes, but you can't rely on your bluffs forever. Like I said, your games are getting old." His lips closed in on yours, feeling his breath wash over the skin. He was teasing now. You couldn't tell what your body felt - disgusted, revolted, or was that old flame being ignited again, even if it were a glimpse into what he used to be before his mind went mad.

"So, are you going to tell me who you were talking to?" He asked, catching you off guard. "I could be jealous if you gave me the reason why."

You swallowed, raking through your mind on your response. You didn't account for him eavesdropping the breath of your last words on the phone call. Thankfully, he wouldn't have been able to discern the words you spoke, but lying about the phone call wasn't an option.

Hawks was only met with a silent tongue.

"Aw Pidge, we shouldn't be keeping secrets from each other. Trust goes both ways, am I right?" He cooed with a grin. "How about this? You don't have to tell me anything, but I'm going to have to take you with me to a friend of ours for a while. Seems you're not fond of going down memory lane with me here."

His statement was laughable, but to an extent, he was reaching. After he had captured you yesterday, he had brought you to this decrepit building only to relive memories of what once was. It was a day of cat and mouse, one that went astray after your original game plan had shifted drastically. You opened with a King's Gambit by feeding into his plot, offering yourself for capture to make it seem that he had succeeded. However, throughout the day. He had thwarted most of your available moves and outcomes. You read him like a book, but so did he.

With a tug of his feathers, you were pulled towards the front doors, followed by Hawks who kept his steely gaze on you. Perhaps there was a way out from this, you thought, eyeing the outside street lights from your peripherals. You contemplated the notion of what very little options you had left, until you spotted Hawks pull a small bottle from his person, dowsing a cloth in what substance it contained.

Immediately, he shoved the cloth into your face, covering your nose and mouth that filled with a sweet and nutty scent. You struggled recognizing that smell, pulling at the small tugs of Hawks' feathers before your limbs felt limp.

"Now, relax Pidge," reassured Hawks through your drowsiness. "I'll make sure you're comfortable when you wake up."

That sweet scent was the last you recalled before your eyes fluttered shut, your head feeling light from the dizziness. Of course, it was chloroform.

Knocked out and comatose, you dangled from Hawks' feathers before they gently released you into his arms, each one returning to his back while he hissed in pain. His Quirk felt like a nuisance now, each use of it always a burden on his body. His painful cries echoed in the lobby, leaving his wings limp while they dragged along the floor.

"You'll be in safe-keeping Pidge," he remarked, straining his back to lift his wings, spreading them ready for take-off. With a push, his wings lifted himself from the ground with you in his arms, flying into the night sky while he made his way across Musatafu. He aimed towards the salty breeze, finding his way to Endor Docks for another well-deserved appointment.

#hawks x reader #hawks #keigo takami #villain au #villain hawks #bnha #bnha au #bnha fanfiction

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rachelsteapot · 3 years

Text

Rescued: Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader Pt. 2

Here’s part 2 for all you lovely people :) Read part one Here

Just to let you all know, I am aiming to post twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, but I am currently on Easter break so when I return to 6th Form, that may change. I aim to post at least once a week during term time, but that is to be comfirmed.

Thank you so so much for all the love and support that you have shown me for Rescued. I really wasn’t expecting this much love. You’re all wonderful!

Warnings: None

Tags: @bat-luna-cat , @nothingleftthaticando

That evening, Tommy Shelby returned to Battersea cats and dogs home.

He pushed the front door open and entered the foyer, where he had stood mere hours before. No one was there so he sat in one of the slightly battered looking seats and let himself relax. Today had been long, but by his standards, not overly eventful. He wanted to see his new dog, but also this girl that had caught his eye.

Y/N, on the other hand, was shitting herself.

The Thomas Shelby was here to collect a dog, one of her dogs, and she hadn’t made any considerations. If she’d have known, she would have had all the dogs lined up and ready.

But she hadn’t.

And all that was left to do was pray.

Finally, she hauled herself from her self pity and appeared behind the desk to see the famous Mr Thomas Shelby light a cigarette. His stunning blue eyes met Y/N’s and her heart thudded in her throat.

“Please follow me, Bruce is waiting for you,” Y/N gulped, watching Tommy’s coat sweep as he stood.

Tommy watched as this girl, this woman, gracefully walked across the foyer, opening a different door to earlier. Upon entering, he found her crouched next to Bruce, stroking him gently and whispering. Finally she stood, taking a second to wipe tears from her eyes before she turned to him.

"I hope you love Bruce just as much as I do. He's been at Battersea for a couple of years now and, honestly, he's the best dog ever. I swear, he's got to be part human, he always knows how to comfort you," Almost as if to prove it, Bruce pushed his head into Y/N's hand and whimpered gently.

Tommy felt his heart melt a little more for this woman. It was clear that this dog meant a lot to her. And for a moment, his heart ruled his head.

"You could always come with us."

Y/N shot Tommy a confused look. This was not the Tommy she had heard about, and she was not about to become part of some cruel game.

"What do you mean, come with you? You're adopting a dog, not asking to marry me. At least ask me out to dinner first," Y/N blurted before she could stop herself.

Tommy's eyebrow raised, but so did the corners of his lips. Then, followed a short chuckle.

"The Ritz, 8 PM tonight. Buy yourself a dress, I left an envelope in the donations box."

"But the Ritz doesn't take dogs-"

"They will if it's mine, come on Bruce," and with that, Tommy turned and strode out of the kennel. Y/N hurried after him with the bag of dog food, and found the Shelby brother stood next to a very expensive looking Bentley. Bruce followed obligingly and began sniffing at the wheels of Tommy's car while the two humans loaded his things.

Once the car was loaded, Tommy hoisted Bruce into the passenger seat and shut the door, before settling himself in the drivers side. He turned, leaning out of the window and met Y/N's gaze once again.

"The Ritz, 8 PM, don't be late," and with that, Mr Shelby and his new companion trundled away down the street. Y/N stood there, dazed, desperately trying to process what had happened. Then, she remembered the envelope. Y/N dashed inside and opened up the donations box, removing a pale envelope with her name printed neatly on it, and opening it. Inside was a wad of cash, easily amounting to near £100, although she didn’t care to count it before she stuffed it into her pocket.

The next thing that Y/N’s whizzing brain realised, was that she would need to finish work early today, meaning that she would need to confront her mean, and rather sleazy manager, Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was a middle aged man who tried to cover his rapidly receding hairline with a badly matched toupee. He seemed to have no inhibitions, and where his hands didn’t wander, his eyes definitely did.

Gulping down bile, Y/N approached his office and knocked on the door. She heard a croak from within and opened the door, stepping into the shroud of cigarette smoke.

“Mr. Smith, it’s Y/N. I’m just letting you know that Bruce has been paid for and collected, and the money is in the strong box under the main desk.” When she heard a grunt of approval, Y/N continued. “Also, Sir, I hope it’s not too much trouble, but I was wondering if Margerie and Alan could close up tonight without me? I have been having a few women’s issues and I feel I would be of more use tomorrow if I could have a few hours off tonight.”

Upon the mention of women’s issues, Mr. Smith began to cough and splutter, nodding and waving his hand through the shroud of smoke.

“Yes, leave, just know it will be deducted from your pay for this week!”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She thanked Mr. Smith, and dashed from his office, wishing a brief goodbye to her co-workers as she went.

Then, she was running towards the shopping district, once again praying to whatever god may be listening, but this time, in the hope that the shops were still open.

Finally, it was 8 PM. Tommy had arrived at the Ritz not long before eight, and had settled himself and Bruce into a private room. He had ignored the protests of the concierge in regards to Bruce’s presence, and was adamant that it would stay this way. Now, all that was left to do, was wait.

When Y/N finally arrived, she was escorted into the room by a smartly dressed waiter. Tommy had stood from his seat to politely welcome his quest, but when he saw her, his world flipped.

Y/N was wearing a well fitted silver full length evening gown. It had small straps that fed into a plunging back, which Tommy had glimpsed as Y/N had turned to thank her escort. Gone was the ragged, almost street urchin looking girl, and instead in her place stood a young woman who could easily have been mistaken for the daughter of a lord. Y/N held herself differently too. Her posture was relaxed yet elegant, and her hands rested in her lap, holding a small silver bag.

"Mr. Shelby? Is everything okay?" Y/N's query roused Tommy from his unsaintly thoughts as he cleared his throat and met his guest's eyes.

"Yes, please, please sit." He directed, pulling out the chair opposite his for Y/N to sit on. She gracefully sat in the chair, stroking Bruce gently who had laid his head on her lap.

"So, Mr. Shelby,"

"Tommy, call me Tommy."

Y/N gulped, "Tommy, why did you ask me here?"

"Because, Y/N, you intrigue me. I don’t often get to talk to people like you.” Tommy’s voice was calm and measured, a drastic contrast to the storm that was raging in his head. He picked up his glass and took a sip, watching the woman opposite him intently.

“Shall we order some food? I expect you’re hungry.”

The rest of the evening passed slowly, time running like honey. Y/N slowly allowed herself to relax, enjoying the company of a man for the first time in what felt like forever. And he was attractive too.

Towards 10 PM, Tommy moved from the seat opposite Y/N to the seat beside her, their conversation flowing like the alcohol from their glasses.

“Y/N,” Tommy started after a prolonged period of comfortable silence. “How would you feel about coming back to Birmingham with me?”

Y/N was shocked. She had known this man less than twenty four hours and he was already suggesting she uproot her life and move halfway across the country to a completely different city.

“I don’t know if I can, Mr. Shelby- Tommy. The dogs are all here, and so is my job, and my friends. I can’t just leave,” Y/N felt Tommy deflate slightly, only microscopically, but it was enough.

Silence shattered the room. It wasn’t warm and comfortable, but cold, aggressive, heart breaking.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. Thank you for a lovely meal, I hope I may get to see you again. Please take good care of Bruce.”

Y/N stood and turned, only to feel her hand catch on something warm and firm.

Tommy felt his heart break as Y/N rejected his offer. This woman was like nothing he had ever encountered. She was intelligent, quick witted, able to drink just as much as he was, and stunningly beautiful. He was not going to let her get away that easily.

So, Tommy reached out and grabbed her hand as she attempted to leave. He spun her around and pulled the young woman flush against him.

“I can’t let you go just like that. Y/N, you intrigue me. You more than intrigue me. Please, come back to Birmingham for a day. We can see how it goes. I’ll get you a job at my company, you can meet my family, and then you can decide if you want in or out of my life. Please, Y/N. Please.”

Y/N felt Tommy’s hot breath on her neck, warming her heart. She could feel his body through his shirt, she felt the way that they fit. No one had ever felt so right. So she swallowed her pride and ignored the voice of reason.

She was going back to Birmingham with Tommy, and that was final.

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #shelby company limited #dogs #cillian murphy

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sadistgalore · 3 years

Text

Chapter 12: Burn Together, Friends Forever

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @elliei-m

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

CW: Heavy dehumanization, pet whump, torture, burning, branding, conditioned whumpee, slapping, verbal abuse, kicking, referenced whump of a minor (nonsexual), implied starvation, Luther is his own warning, boils, impalement, left outside in the cold, implied noncon

Harper’s stomach dropped as soon as she heard the bastard’s voice, and heard a hard whimper behind her.

“Naughty, naughty girl, Harper. I don’t think your master would approve.”

Harper huffed. “You lied. You said you had a dog, not a human!”

Luther glared. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference? You people are fucking impossible!”

“I would watch your attitude, kitty. You’re just making this worse for yourself.”

“H-Ha-Harper,” said a voice behind her. The girl turned around, seeing Killian look up with tears in his eyes, trembling. “D-D-Don’t m-m-make h-“

“Doggy.” A voice cut him off. “That sounds an awful like talking to me.”

Killian lowered back down. Harper noticed this, and her police instincts kicked in once again. “Stop talking to him like that. You’re mad? Then take your anger out at me, you’ve hurt him enough.”

Luther smirked. “Fine, kitty. Come here.”

Harper looked once more to the shaking boy, then followed the orders given. Luther went across the room, looking towards the wall lined with Dark’s torture devices. He finally picked a long metal cord with a wire attached to it, and plugged said wire into the wall.

“I don’t know why Edward insisted on picking a defiant one like you, there’s so many other trained pets with black hair he can just buy for a few hundred bucks,” he muttered, beginning to loop the cord around her right arm.

“Sorry that me trying to preserve my dignity is a problem for you,” she spat.

Luther chuckled, hand moving to a button attached to the cord. “We’ll see about that,” he finished as he pushed the button.

At first, Harper didn’t feel anything, but soon felt a warm sensation after thirty seconds or so. That sensation only kept growing into a burning pain. She gasped, soon realizing what Luther was intending to do, and began trying to pull it off.

Luther grabbed her hand, “Bad kitty. You better stay still unless you want Doggy to have this looped around his throat.”

Harper looked up, eyes beginning to form tears, and put her hand down. She soon screamed as the heat only increased, the hot metal burning into her arm.

“Ruff!”

“No, doggy. Your punishment is later.” Luther said without even looking up, admiring the smoke coming from the kitty’s arm.

“S-stop, please! I’m begging you!” Harper screamed, beginning to grow nauseous as she smelt more and more of her burnt flesh.

“Just another minute,” Luther hummed, causing Harper to yell in frustration.

That minute felt like hours, during which the pain became too unbearable and she fell to the floor. She writhed on the ground, other hand burning as she tried to pry the clip off to no avail. Luther bent down, ignoring her defiance, and pushed the button on the wire.

“Such a crybaby,” he said as he walked towards his shackled dog.

Killian began whimpering loudly, crying out as Luther began to unshackle his wrists.

“You’re a very bad doggy, you know that?” Luther said as he cupped his face, feeling the tears streaming down his pet’s eyes. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

“B-bark-“ Slap.

“Stupid mutt. Use your words.”

“I-I’ll,” Killian started, not quite sure how exactly he was going to make it up to his captor. “I’ll be a b-bet-ter dog-“ Slap.

“Well you’re pretty fucking terrible at that, aren’t you?!” The man yelled, making Killian flinch back. “Answer me! Aren’t you a bad dog?”

“Yes sir-“ Instead of a slap, Luther punched Killian hard in the face. He got up, beginning to kick him to each word he spoke. “Stupid. Fucking. Dog! Why are you using your words?!”

“I don’t know what you want from me!” The young man screamed, Luther seeing a defiance in his eyes that he hadn’t seen since he was 17. Killian soon snapped back to reality, cringing at the cruel smile of his captor.

“No, no, I’m sorry. Please, I didn’t- ruff! Ruff, ruff, bark, woof!-“

Luther grabbed his hair and began to drag him upstairs. He stopped as he passed the girl on the floor, the coil around her arm now turning into a dull red instead of the fiery orange. “I’ll be back kitty. Once I’m back, I expect you to have dinner prepared for me only. Neither you or the doggy are getting food for a while.”

He didn’t stop to hear the choked gasps of the kitty as he walked upstairs, ripping the poor boy’s scalp as he continued to be dragged. Once they reached the kitchen, Luther threw the dog on the ground and stepped on his neck to prevent him from escaping.

The man grabbed a pot and filled it with water, setting the gas stove burner to high as he waited for it to boil. The boy was crying openly, not bothering to whimper or whine as he saw the rare aggression in his captor’s face.

“Oh, Killian,” Luther sighed as he leaned against the counter, foot still pressing on the dog’s neck. “You were doing so well, I thought I finally broke you.” Killian’s cries filled the room. “Still, you’re too incompetent to follow the rules.”

After a few minutes of more sobbing and the man’s silence, the water finally stopped boiling.

“You need to learn, pup,” Luther said as he grabbed the pot handle with a towel. “The only one who can give anything in this world,” he dumped the pot on the boy, ears straining at the blood-curdling scream that came with it.

“Is me.”

____________

“Wonderful dinner, kitty,” Luther complimented as he finished the last few bites of his steak.

The girl said nothing, completely exhausted from trying to ignore the unbearable pain on her arm and using what little energy she had to cook a meal for the bastard.

She can’t imagine what Killian must be going through, though.

The said boy was still on the kitchen floor, screams long since stopped and have resorted to painful crying. His face was an angry red, only a few boils on his face since he covered most of the splash with his arms. But those were scaly and irritated, raw skin being exposed. Harper had mentioned giving him some medicine, but one angry look from Luther was enough to shut her up.

Luther stood up from the table, and snapped his fingers. Harper moved hesitantly towards him, Killian didn’t. “Your punishment isn’t over. Since you two want to bond so much, you can bond in the cold outside. And no meals for three days. Clear?”

Harper nodded, dreading the thought of being chained up outside into the freezing cold.

Luther gripped her chin. “I said, are we clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Luther said nothing as he walked towards a drawer, pulling out chains that had very thick cuffs attached to the ends. He tightly gripped her burned out, smiling as she screamed in pain. He dragged her outside and pushed her to the ground outside the porch, connecting the cuff to her ankle and linking it to the wall. He left, and came out with Killian who was also crying out in pain. He did the same procedure with him, and then flipped a switch on each of their ankle cuffs.

Harper flinched as she felt spikes just grazing her skin, regretting that as they seemed to break contact and draw blood.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Luther smirked, seeing the girl’s face in pain. They are spikes embedded into those cuffs; the more you struggle, the more they get into your skin. So you don’t try to run away, of course.”

Harper resisted the urge to roll her eyes and looked towards Killian, who was now crying again.

“I hope you learned your lesson today, kitty. I’ll be sure to tell Edward about this.”

“You branded my fucking arm,” Harper growled. “Dark said not to scar me.”

Luther gave the girl a cold glare. “You’re gonna learn, like all of his other pets did, that I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with you despite if your master likes it or not. I’m sure you’ll see that in the nights we’re going to spend together, kitty.”

With that, the man walked back inside, content that his new playthings wouldn’t try running away.

Harper tested Luther’s claims by doing little movements with her ankle, but the spikes only dug into her skin more.

“Shit,” she whispered as she slumped against the porch behind her. “We’re gonna be impaled even if we moved an inch.”

Killian whimpered, but remained still as he curled up against the porch wall. Harper looked over to him, seeing spike-like scars on his wrists and ankles. “This isn’t the first time he put these damn cuffs on you, isn’t it?”

The boy shook his head.

Harper looked at him with a sorrowful look; she spent mere hours with this man, how long had Killian been with him? “Hey, we’re gonna be okay, alright?” Harper started, gently placing her arm on his non burnt shoulder. “I’m a police detective for Washington, D.C. My friend has been investigating this group for years, a rescue will come for me soon.” She said it more to herself than to Killian. “I promise.”

Killian listened to her words, but couldn’t get himself to believe her. He might have been a street rat, but he’s been missing for seven years. He’s met other pets like her, with reputations and hopes of being rescued. But he’s also met other masters, ones that have too good of a reputation to ever be met with repercussions for what they’ve done to their pets, like Luther.

But Harper was nice, nicer than most people he’s met in almost a decade of hell. Maybe the cycle will change. Maybe his torment will finally end.

He looked up at her, and smiled, and was met with a warm smile back. He nuzzled into her, and closed his eyes when he felt her arm wrapping around his back and running it gently. Together, they could try their best to remain warm.

Harper rested her head on Killian’s, and yawned as she prepared for an uncomfortable and cold night of sleep. “One day, Kill-”

Killian groaned. Harper chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I like giving people nicknames. ‘Kill’s’ not a good one?”

The boy shook his head, Harper thought some more.

“How about Ian?” She got a head nod in affirmation.

“Okay, Ian, one day we’ll get out of here together. From now on, I’m gonna do whatever I can to protect you, alright?”

There was silence for a moment, just their steady breaths filling the space, then a very silent,

“Alright.”

16 notes · View notes

ticklygiggles · 4 years

Text

In the mood | IwaOi

A/N: Thank you to the both of you! I hope you don’t mind me combining your requests! You’ll definitely find a wrecked Iwa with an intense Lee mood in this fic! I hope you enjoy it and thank you once again!

Summary: Iwaizumi thought he wasn’t into tickling anymore, but after seeing Makki and Mattsun having a tickle fight, he discovered that he was, in fact, very much into it.

The squeak of shoes and the sound of balls hitting the floor or smacking against hands, echoed through the whole gym; it did sound like a the whole team was inside, but only the third years were the ones doing some practicing, polishing their movements and shouting advices and quick cheerings at each other… most of the time.

“Makki!” Matsukawa yelped when a ball that his captain had just served to Hanamaki, suddenly landed directly against his face, his eyes teared up as he quickly touched the bridge of his nose, checking for fractures. “Are you out of your mind?!”

Hanamaki shielded himself with his hands, raising them in front of him. “I am sorry! I don’t know what happened! My wrist just twisted!”

“Are you kidding me? This is the second time!” Matsukawa cried, immediately reaching for his lower lip, where a fresh, little cut still bleed a little. “You are dead!”

“Mattsun, Makki! Stop playing around!” Iwaizumi called, totally pissed by the interruption his team mates were causing.

His warning actually worked, Matsukawa stopped half step toward Hanamaki and he turned around to look at Iwaizumi - he was scowling, a raised eyebrow saying ‘dare to move a single finger and I will kick you out of this gym forever.’ Matsukawa only sighed, touching his nose once more.

“Now, now. Everyone calm down,” Oikawa said from the other side of the net; that teasing smile only ticking Iwaizumi’s nerves even more. “Let’s just keep going. I don’t want to stay here forever.” Oikawa rolled the ball between his hands and tossed it down against the floor, it perfectly jumped up, higher than Oikawa’s height. “Hanamaki, this one's for you again!”

Oikawa did one of his distinctive serves and Iwaizumi tried to glue his feet to the floor, instinctively wanting to jump and receive it, but it was directed to Makki one more time and Iwaizumi begged, he begged for Hanamaki to actually hit the damn ba-

“Agh! Okay, that’s it!”

“Oi!”

“Aaah!”

He did hit the ball, but Matsukawa had such bad luck today that it crashed straight to his face and Iwaizumi barely had time to register what was going on until Mattsun was chasing a squeaking Hanamaki all around the gym. Iwaizumi felt a vein popping in his forehead.

“Hey! Can you st-

“Iwa-chan, focus! Here I go!”

Iwaizumi gasped, but he quickly pulled himself together and received a toss that made him vibrate to the core, his hands stinging after he hit the ball all the way back to Oikawa’s hands.

“Good. One mo-

“Aaah! No!” A shriek followed by a soft thud made Iwaizumi's eyebrow twitch. “M-Mattsun, no- ahahahaha!”

“Oi, you two! Could you please-

All words got stuck in his throat as soon as he properly saw what was happening: Matsukawa, straddling Makki's waist, was tickling him mercilessly, his legs pressed against Hanamaki’s body to keep him in place. Iwaizumi widened his eyes and he could feel an unwanted warmth spreading across his cheeks as he stared at Mattsun's hands skillfully clawing his fingers against Makki's ribs.

It seemed that he hit a particularly soft spot because Hanamaki shrieked and hysterical laughter filled the gym.

Iwaizumi shuddered.

“Iwa-chan, all good?”

Iwaizumi gasped and he turned his head to see Oikawa, the setter was staring at him with one raised eyebrow and cocked head and Iwaizumi hoped the warmth against his cheeks was not too obvious.

“Y-Yeah, all good,” he stuttered, clearing his throat. “We- uh, we can continue.”

But it was impossible to continue with Hanamaki’s constant yelling: ‘please, stop!’, ‘I’ll do anything!’, ‘anywhere but there!’ Iwaizumi couldn’t function properly and it was not only Makki’s begging, but also Mattsun’s teasing: ‘Ho? Did I find a good spot?’, ‘Ah, I didn’t know you are ticklish here’, ‘Oh, it’s right here right? Right here.’

Iwaizumi felt his insides fluttering with each loud laugh and every teasing word. His hands were suddenly too sweaty and the warmth on his face travelled all the way down to his neck and around his ears - he was just not himself.

He didn't even got angry when a ball hit him in the face; his eyes constantly looking over where Mattsun was tickling the life out of Makki. Iwaizumi felt butterflies in his chest and he wanted to kick himself in the head.

He really thought he had forgotten about this particular trait of his - school, practicing, falling in love with Oikawa, he was just too busy to actually stop and think about that. Besides, he kind of wanted to forget about it; he was a little tired of feeling flustered every time he saw people t-tickling each other. It was ridiculous, but who would’ve said that he’d be into that mood thanks to his best friends! In school! During practice!

He bit the inside of his cheek. Oh god, he really wanted to be tickled.

“Hajime!” Iwaizumi jumped, his head turning to look at Oikawa. “Is everything alright? You’re doing awful today.”

Iwaizumi frowned; really, his boyfriend had no tact to say things like that. “I’m good. I’m just…” His eyes gravitated toward Makki and Mattsun, the tickling had stopped and Mattsun was helping Makki to get up, his legs were shaking and he was still giggling. “... tired.”

Oikawa hummed. “Then let’s call it a day,” he said, picking up some balls near him. “My parents aren’t home tonight. Wanna crash?”

Iwaizumi nodded slowly, feeling a little uncomfortable and embarrassed. “Yeah, sure.”

“Good. Makki! Mattsun! Stop playing around and help clean up!”

The four separated in the exact same spot they always did since three years ago. Iwaizumi had to force out a smile as they waved goodbye to Makki and Mattsun. He really felt exhausted, and his heart kept skipping little beats when he recalled the events of, barely, one hour ago. He was still feeling flustered and he kind of wanted to scream right in the middle of that same street that he, desperately, needed someone to tickle him out of his mind.

“You really are distracted today,” Oikawa mumbled, nudging Iwaizumi’s arm with his own. Iwaizumi jumped softly, looking at Oikawa and he couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m good.” He said apologetically, quickly averting his eyes from Oikawa’s before he could see through him.

Oikawa hummed, a playful smile overtaking his lips. “And you’re apologizing. I’m really worried.”

That made Iwaizumi laugh a little and he punched Oikawa in the arm, making him cry out in pain as he also laughed. “So savage, Iwa-chan!” He said, rubbing his arm.

Iwaizumi chuckled. “Shut it, or next it’s your face.”

“So mean!” Oikawa gasped, but he bumped against Iwaizumi, shyly reaching for his hand. Iwaizumi took it, giving it a soft squeeze.

He probably would forget about everything once they settle down in Oikawa’s house.

“Tomorrow is a saturday, so you can stay over and we can watch movies all night,” Oikawa said too excitedly as soon as they were inside his house.

Iwaizumi chuckled, stepping out of his shoes and taking a deep breath. Oikawa’s house really smelled like Oikawa’s skin and it made Iwaizumi felt some kind of warmth inside his chest that almost made him forget about the terrible need he had within his heart.

He sighed, stretching up to help clear his mind a little.

“We can do many other things,” Oikawa said, stealing Iwaizumi’s backpack from his shoulder and tossing it aside with his own. “Like playing a board game.”

“You are terrible at board games,” Iwaizumi said, smiling as Tooru wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him toward the living room.

“So mean! We can still play even if I’m bad at it, but I’m not!” Iwaizumi laughed, plopping into the couch, Oikawa right beside him. “We can also eat the whole fridge if we want to, we can go for a late night walk… Oh! And I can also tickle you until you are satisfied.”

Iwaizumi tensed up and his head quickly turned around to look at Oikawa. “H-Huh?”

“So I was right,” Oikawa said and Iwaizumi was not able to react before he was pushed back against the couch cushions, Oikawa straddling his waist. “I did notice when we were at the gym,” Oikawa started to explain, gathering Iwaizumi’s wrists in one of his colossal hands and pinning them above his head. Iwaizumi gasped, arching his back off the sofa momentarily and softly pulling at his trapped hands.

“T-Tooru, what are you-

"You were looking at them very intently,” Oikawa continued. “Makki and Mattsun, I mean. When they were having that tickle fight.” Iwaizumi’s belly did a flip when Oikawa said ‘tickle’. “And your expression right now - so you still like being tickled, huh?”

Iwaizumi swallowed thickly. He did notice. Of course he did notice! There was no way Oikawa Tooru wouldn’t notice it! He had known about this since they were very young, (much to Iwaizumi’s embarrassment), but he thought Oikawa had forgotten about it, too. He really knew how to read Iwaizumi and that made him feel so vulnerable and exposed.

He really wanted to say something, his mouth opening and closing over and over, but no words came out from his lips.

Oikawa was smiling down at him and he couldn’t tell what that smile meant.

“So Mattsun and Makki really triggered it out of you, hmm?” He asked and Iwaizumi flinched and gasped when Oikawa’s free hand was suddenly latching to his side. “Now that I think about it, you haven't gifted me with your laughter in a while, Iwa-chan. Shall we change that?"

“O-Oikawa, hold on. I- I don’t know what- ah! Wait! Wahahahait!”

There was an explosion of butterflies in his tummy when Oikawa's hand started to squeeze up and down his side. The electrifying feeling making his skin cover with goosebumps as he arched and squirmed, not away, but right into Oikawa’s hand, looking for more of that maddening sensation.

Oikawa hummed and Iwaizumi could hear his thought: ‘So he really wanted it’, and Iwaizumi wanted to disappear, but he also so desperately wanted to enjoy the feeling for a little longer.

“Wait for what, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa teased. “Are you going to tell me where are you the most ticklish?”

It’s not like he didn’t know, but that teasing was enough to have Iwaizumi feeling himself blushing brightly as he shook his head, his eyes tight shut as growly giggles left his mouth. “S-Staha- Stop! Thi- Thihis… is n-noahat-!” He could barely speak through his clenched teeth.

“Hm? Why are you trying to hold back?” Oikawa asked as he squeezed a certain spot near Iwaizumi’s waist that made him squeak and bite on the inside of his cheeks. “Iwa-chan, I thought you enjoyed this. Should I stop?” he started to slow down and Iwaizumi gasped.

“No! I- haa! Ahahaha!” Iwaizumi let out bright, loud barks of laughter when Oikawa reached for one of his armpits, scribbling against his shirt that offered little to no protection to the tickle spot.

“There we go! I wanted to torture you a little more before tickling you here, but you are so stubborn!" Iwaizumi shook his head, the tickling in his exposed underarm making him arch his back off the couch as much as he was allowed with Oikawa straddling him.

"You really like this spot huh? Look how happy you look! What about here? Is it just as ticklish?" Oikawa asked and Iwazumi squeaked when he felt his other armpit under attack

Oikawa jumped from underam to underarm, scribbling and then vibrating his fingertips right in the center, knowing that Iwaizumi was really ticklish there - meanwhile Hajime cackled, his head shaking back and forth as he weakly pulled at his trapped arms, jumping everytime Oikawa tickle a super sensitive spot.

Oikawa used his middle finger to poke all around Iwaizumi's armpit and Hajime giggled hysterically, his body reacting on its own, flinching to the side even thought Iwaizumi wanted to arch against that evil finger.

Oikawa laughed, "what's so funny, Hajime? Does it tickle that much? I'm only poking you!" He teased, as he moved the poking lower to the hollow of Iwaizumi's underarm.

"T-Tohohohoru! N-Nahahaha!"

Iwaizumi couldn't stop giggling like crazy because having his arms pinned up just made him feel so nervous and tingly - but the feeling of those playful and quick pokes was just too ticklish and fun; his insides were fluttering as a permanent blush covered his cheeks.

"S-Stahahap teheheHAHAHA!" He squeaked, jumping away when Oikawa poked a spot too close to his ribs.

Oikawa beamed. "What was that? Oh! Now I remember!" He said placing his hand in that tender spot between Iwaizumi's ribs and armpit, Hajime shuddered, shaking his head softly. "The other day I actually saw Mattsun tickling this spot on Makki and it made him lose his mind!"

"N-Nohoho, plehehehease!" Iwaizumi whimpered, his chest fluttering with excitement, knowing full well that that spot is actually a very nice spot of his, too.

"Right here, he just... squeezed like this- oh! So you're also ticklish there!"

Iwaizumi shrieked and laughter bubbled out of his lips, his back arching again as he kicked his legs, his heels digging into the couch. He could barely hear Oikawa's laughs over his own, the soft, but gentle squeezes in that sensitive muscle making him feel like his whole body was vibrating.

"Plehehehease! Pl-plehehease!"

"Please, please, what, Iwa-chan? You have to speak properly!" Oikawa teased playfully. He stopped the playful tickling over that spot, but Hajime didn't even have the chance to catch his breath before he snorted when Oikawa suddenly moved to the same spot but on his other side.

"Oh goodness, that was so cute! Can you do it again?" Oikawa asked, his face bright like a child with a new toy.

Iwaizumi shook his head, his cheeks turning even more redder as he felt himself getting weaker and weaker the more Oikawa tickled him, and he was barely at his ribs! He knew Oikawa wouldn't stop there, he'd definitely continue until he reached that spot that just put Iwaizumi in some kind of tickle subspace.

His heart skipped a beat just at the thought of it.

After a few minutes of endless squeaks and loud laughs, Oikawa finally moved down to properly tickle Iwaizumi's ribcage, which was a little less ticklish than his armpits, but still too sensitive to allow him to form coherent words between his loud laughter.

"G-Gahahahaha! N-nohohoho!"

"Yes, you keep saying 'no' and 'please', but don't think you can fool me." Iwaizumi knew he could never fool Oikawa. "You haven't told me to stop not even once, Iwa-chan. So I will continue until you wet your pants," Oikawa promised with a wide smile.

"It's-ihihihit's tihihihicklish!"

Oikawa fondly rolled his eyes. "Well, yes, that's the whole point! Now, stop squirming so much, I have to count your ribs, Iwa-chan. I think a ball hit you around here earlier and I don't want you to have a broken rib."

Iwaizumi gasped between his laughter. "No! I dohohon't! N-Nahahaha, plehehehease!"

"One..." Oikawa did a long pause as his finger playfully tickled the highest of Iwaizumi's ribs until he made sure to use every possible technique against the bone, Iwaizumi was laugh wholeheartedly. "Two..."

"My gahahahahad! Plehehehease!"

"Stop moving, I'm losing count! Do you want me to start over?!" Iwaizumi shook his head no. "Oh, you have to stay really still because I know that this set of ribs right here - oh yes, right there. They're super sensitive, aren't they?"

Iwaizumi shrieked when soft fingers dug and vibrated against those certain ribs on his left side that were just so painfully ticklish. Goosebumps rose on his skin - he felt the muscles of his ribs twitching at the ticklish touch. It felt amazing, but it also tickled too bad!

"And I know they're ticklish on the other side too~" Oikawa sang, moving to claw at those same ribs on Iwaizumi's other side.

Iwaizumi cackled. "TohohoHOHORU! N-nahahat thehehere!" He begged, mostly because his right mind told him too, but he didn't exactly want it to stop just yet.

Oikawa gasped, not stopping at all. "Not here? Then where? Your stomach?"

Iwaizumi nodded, his laughter getting a bit wheezy after all the forced laughter.

"Your stomach is not even that ticklish, Iwa-chan!" He whined, but he actually moved to tickle Iwaizumi's belly.

Iwaizumi nodded, his laughter slowly dying down as Tooru vibrated his finger against the tight muscles of his tummy - he really wasn't that ticklish there, but he still giggled uncontrollably, tears of laughter clinging to his lashes and nose getting a bit runny after laughing so much.

"Oh my gohohohahahad! You ahahahre so cruhuhuel!" He giggled out, trying to hide his flushed face against the side of his arm.

Oikawa laughed, "who? Me? But Iwa-chan, I haven't even tickled you in your weakest spot! You don't know how cruel I can be!"

"Oh n-nohohoHAHAhaha!" A squeak surprised him when he felt Oikawa's fingers wiggling into his bellybutton, his nose crinckled at the sensation and he shook his hips a little.

"What a cute dance."

"Stohohop thahahat!"

"What? So you don't want me to tickle you here anymore either?! Jeez, Iwa-chan!" Iwaizumi squeaked when Oikawa suddenly grabbed his wrists and tucked his hands under his knees, pinning him there. "So you're basically begging me to tickle you there, right?"

"No! Nohohoho! Anywhehehere but thehehere! Eek!" Iwaizumi squealed when Oikawa, after he made sure Iwaizumi's hands were properly pinned under his knees, reached down to pull at Iwaizumi's pants, exposing those sharp and so ticklish hipbones.

He also pulled his shirt up, revealing up to his navel.

"Yes, yes, yes, 'anywhere but there'," Oikawa mocked, "but when I was tickling your ribs you were saying 'not there, not there', so you can't use that excuse anymore. Here I go."

"No! Nonono, w-wahahait, I- AHAHAHA!" His entire body bucked at the sudden squeeze attack on both hips before he started to squirm as much as his strength allowed him. Wild, loud and unrestrained laughter poured out of him non-stop.

"Not there! Nahahat thehehere!" Iwaizumi pleaded.

"I told you that's not valid anymore!"

His hips were definitely his weakest spot, any brushing right there drained all of his strength (and laughter), and it incapacitated him from fighting against the feeling that always drove him crazy.

Iwaizumi shook and thrusted his hips as his mind stopped functioning and he could only focus on the torture against his hips.

"Oh, does it tickle a lot?"

Iwaizumi could barely nod as he tried to dislodge his poor ticklish hipbones from Oikawa's mean fingers.

"These poor hips of yours will be tickled until I get tired, Hajime~" Oikawa teased and Iwaizumi could only squeak softly before his body started to shake with silent laughter. Oikawa giggled. "Did your lose your voice?"

Iwaizumi nodded, tears of laughter falling from the sides of his face as a little snort vibrated in his nose, but still no sound came out from his smiley mouth.

Not only did he lose his voice, he lost his mind! Only one thought could possible run though his mind at that moment: 'it tickles, it tickles, it tickles!'it was just too intense, but he was enjoying every second of it and deep inside, he just didn't want it to stop ever.

"Hmm, I don't know, should I stop?"

Iwaizumi nodded again, trying to push Oikawa off him; Oikawa laughed. "Should I really stop, though?" Iwaizumi nodded again, throwing his head back and arching off the couch. "Okay, okay. Only because your face is too red," he said and he stopped as fast as he started.

But Iwaizumi took a hot minute to recover himself from that silent laughter just to keep laughing for another minute, then giggling until Oikawa was joining in too, trying to fan Iwaizumi's face with his hand.

"Stop! Why are you giggling?!" Oikawa laughed and Iwaizumi seemed like he was just broken. "If you keep giggling I'll tickle your hips again!" That only caused him to laugh even more and Oikawa could only shake his head fondly and help Iwaizumi to sit properly.

"I'm gonna fetch you some water. Calm down, silly," Oikawa said, kissing Iwaizumi's forehead before leaving.

Iwaizumi's body felt tingly all over; his hips still twinkling with very ticklish aftershocks. He sighed in delight when he finally calmed down - satisfaction overtaking him. It was great, more than he could've ever asked for, but know that it was over, he felt a sudden rush of embarrassment and his flushed cheeks reddened even more.

He had to face Oikawa now... After what they did. Maybe he can actually jump off the window and-

"Ah, you are fine now!" Iwaizumi jumped and he looked up to see Oikawa lending him a glass of water. "Hydrate yourself, hm? You laughed too much," Oikawa said and Iwaizumi only bowed his head before taking the glass.

He drank the whole thing, feeling suddenly thirsty after the water touched his lips. Oikawa only chuckled at his side and he gently rubbed his back.

"Calm down. You'll get the hiccups," he warned before he cleared his throat. Oh, no. "Hajime." Oh, no, here we go. Is he angry? "You know, you shouldn't feel ashamed when you feel like you want to get tickled." Iwaizumi nearly chocked on his last sip.

"Y-yes?" He asked, holding the glass between his hands.

Oikawa smiled tenderly at him. "You can always be honest with me, Iwa-chan! I think it's cute that you like it. I like it that you like it. So, next time, please tell me and I'll happily do the job~" He sang, poking Iwaizumi's side, making him jump and giggle nervously. "I'm honest, Hajime. I like to indulge you in things like these."

Iwaizumi's face was unhealthy red as he chuckled shyly, his eyes averting from Oikawa's. "As if I was capable to do such thing."

Oikawa laughed. "Then good for you your amazing boyfriend is so good at reading your expressions, hmm?" He teased, leaning close to Iwaizumi's face, a warmth smile on his face.

Iwaizumi smiled, nudging his nose against Oikawa's. "Yeah, I'm thankful for this amazing boyfriend of mine."

It was Oikawa's turn to flush bright red and he whined, covering his face with his hands. "Stupid Iwa-chan! You can't say things like that out of the sudden!”

"I'm just saying the truth." Iwaizumi said, leaning in to leave a tender kiss against Oikawa's lips. "Thank you... for doing this. I love you. I really, really love you."

"Hajime! I love you too, you idiot!!" Iwaizumi's laughter ringed through the whole house as Oikawa tickled him as revenge.

Not that Iwaizumi minded, and he knew Oikawa didn't mind either. There was time to watch movies and everything else later, right now, their playful and loving moment mattered the most.

Maybe Iwaizumi can be a little brave and actually ask for it... some day.

#Haikyuu!!#IwaOi #Iwaizumi Hajime #Oikawa Tooru #Ticklish!Iwaizumi #Tickle fic #tickling #mia's things #mia's fics #i don't remember my own tags

300 notes · View notes

lady-o-ren · 3 years

Text

THE HUNGER OF MY HEART

//PROLOGUE// //PART ONE// PART TWO

PART THREE

For easier reading here’s the link for ao3 (X)

Jamie stepped into the Lallybroch stables and whistled melodically through his teeth. A wide-browed grey horse poked his head out from the corner stall, hitching his ears forward as he blew excitedly through his nostrils.

"Cobhar, ciamar a tha thu?" Said Jamie fondly, firmly patting the long dappled neck of the horse and scratching behind his ears. "Di' ye miss me, my wee laddie?"

Nothing was wee about Cobhar. He was a good-tempered, but spirited 14-hand gelding that had been the first foal that Jamie's father let him care for when he was a lad, still mourning his mother and needing distraction.

Cobhar's big head came down and mouthed affectionately at Jamie's curls then cheeks in greeting, as he always had done, then descended down to his knuckles, eager for the sweet treat he could smell hiding in his palm.

"Och, ye miss being spoilt is all then? Didn'a think of me once while I was gone, di' ye?"

Cobhar huffed impatiently and nudged his head against Jamie's chest, nibbling at the buttons, while swishing his dirt-blonde tail side to side.

"A'right, laddie," Jamie chuckled, patting him again. "Here ye go. No need to knock me over." The stallion's soft velvet lips plucked the whole apple from out his opened palm and devoured it in one loud and juicy crunch.

"Fattening auld Cobhar a'ready, Jamie?"

Jamie grinned ear to ear as he looked aside to see his best friend, and now brother-in-law, Ian, amble up beside him. He was tall and whipcord lean and strong, with an honest, good-natured face about him that had captured his sister, Jenny's heart when they were naught but bairns.

"Ye're one to talk, Ian. My sister didn'a get big as a house on her own, di' she?"

Face a rich blush, Ian laughed and bashfully scratched his nose, crooked from when Jamie broke it years before, having found him and Jenny in the most compromising of ways.

"Still a wee shite, Fraser. And still redder than a roosters arse," said Ian, as he playfully smacked the back of Jamie's head.

As had everyone else in the family since he arrived back home. His uncle's, aunties and brutally by his beloved godfather, Murtagh, for being away from Lallybroch for so long. But the real blackening had come from Jenny, a feat for a pregnant woman who had once been no bigger than his thumb. Thank Christ, he had a skull made of solid stone (though as predicted she had embraced soon after and kissed him more than what was decent for a sister to).

Rubbing the multitude of throbbing black and blue bumps on his head (but after having given Ian a hard punch to his shoulder), Jamie spotted what looked to be an envelope under his brother-in-law's arm.

"Plan on feeling the bills to the white sow, Ian?"

Ian looked at him quizzically before making an "O" with his mouth and pulled the envelope out.

"It came yesterday, before you di'," said Ian, handing it over to Jamie, who curiously flipped it over.

It was a letter actually. He grinned, almost laughing, as it was addressed to James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser and had been tied thoughtfully with twine and a sprig of greenery embedded (accidentally?) in its bow that he brushed a blunt forefinger to.

It was from Claire.

Jamie glanced up to see Ian smirking at him and felt his ears blush hot.

"Ye're damn lucky I saw that before yer sister di'. She'd be holding it up to the light and steaming the seams open."

"She'd do no such thing," Jamie retorted, with a glint of humor in his eyes. "Yer wife would tear it open wi' her teeth and wave it in my face."

"That she would," Ian agreed with a chest shaking chuckle. "But our lass is a bloodhound and will find out sooner than not about the puir lass that ye've set yer heart upon."

The last was said almost in question. A hope that maybe Jamie had found a way to balm his wearied heart, knowing that his travels were not just a simple bout of wanderlust and the outlandish reason why. He had the look of a man now awakened, as if he'd been reborn. Something Ian himself had experienced the day Janet Fraser gave him his first kiss at the tender age of six and had never recovered from.

Nor had his nose.

Jamie met Ian's hazel eyed gaze.

"Her name's Claire," he beamed, not bothering to hide the emotion in his voice that rivaled the reverence of a prayer to the creator above. "I met her in London a week ago. Spent every second I could wi' her."

And leaving the woman of his dreams had been like having his heart cleaved in two.

"Then you'll have to write to me," Claire had said, beneath her gates woven green with ivy, having clasped her fingers to his, while her other hand held his arm as if to draw him back to her marvelous world.

"Letters, ye mean?" He gulped, having felt himself sway to her power.

She nodded. "I prefer it. I can't stand the ringing and pinging of a telephone. Will you, Jamie?" Her voice had sounded unsure as if it were indeed possible he could ever refuse her.

"Who do I address it to?" He had smiled, while grazing a tentative thumb to the back of her palm. "The funny house no one can see at the end of nowhere street?"

"You're a smart one." She pulled her hand away to tap his nose but had let her caress linger innocently, cluelessly, down his ginger stubbled cheek as he shivered with desire, wanting to kiss the base of her thumb, count her freckles with his mouth. "Address it to this empty lot and your letter will find me. Just don't be forever."

Jamie had pressed his hand over hers, not knowing if he could ever let her go, feeling his breath stitch tight.

"Then until I see ye again, Sassenach."

She glowed at the name he'd given her the day they'd met. Had told him before it suited her better than even her given one.

Jamie hadn't agreed with that at all and wanted to tell her what Claire was in the Ghàidhlig.

One day he would.

Perhaps strung together with the phrase stirring in his heart.

Tha gaol agam ort

But apparently a day had been far too long for her.

"I think she's the one," Jamie continued on, in almost startling disbelief as he grinned like the lovesick fool he was. "The one that's been calling for me all these years."

"Christ, man! She's real?!" Ian gripped his shoulder, matching his excitement. "Should we be expecting yer Claire for hogmanay with a wee one of yer own?"

Before Jamie could stutter a heart racing answer to that query, the two were interrupted by Jenny hollering for them.

“D’ye two want yer dinner, or shall I feed it to the dogs!?”

Said dogs, Luke and Elphin, Mars and auld Bran, howled in answer while Jamie groaned at his sister's impeccable timing.

Ian slapped his back though and gave his dearest friend and bràthair an encouraging smile and waggle of his dark brows. "Read the damn letter, man. I'll take care of yer sister. Just remember when yer wean's born to name him after me, aye?"

After watching Ian depart with a wink, Jamie threw a long leg over Cobhar's stall door (shushing the nosey beast with a promise of sugar cubes) and settled himself low in the hay.

After pocketing the bit of green to his breast pocket with a delicate hand, he carefully untied the twine and opened Claire's letter. The sweet fragrance of elderflowers and chamomile kissed the page where a simple request was written that had Jamie hopping over the stall door and running towards Lallybroch, with his pack of dogs yapping at his heels.

My Dear Jamie,

At the end of the week I'll be in Edinburgh.

Join me?

"Are ye ever going to tell me what's in this thing, Sassenach?"

Up and down the winding streets of Edinburgh, past the many sloping buildings and cafes and bitty book shops stacked beside one another, Jamie had been carrying a heavy and ornate wooden chest for Claire as she walked ahead of him, looking for the shop to deliver it to.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and her young apprentice, Elias, beside him, who'd taken quite a shine to the older Scotsman. He too had been tasked with carrying a package. It was strapped to his back, a long leather cylinder that could've held anything from mundane documents to a treasure map. Jamie wasn't sure at all.

"It's not for me to say. Besides it would only worry your dreams."

"That doesna make me feel any better," Jamie murmured, staring warily at what he held in his arms which amused Claire greatly enough to bite her posey lush lips from laughing.

"Then pretend it's a cake box."

Elias snorted, catching Jamie's attention.

"Ye ken what's in this thing don't ye, mo charaid?"

"Aye - I mean yes. But -" Elias flicked his round eyes to his mistress's straight back then cupped his hand to his round cheek. "I'll tell you later. It's downright awful and I nearly lost my -"

"You know I can hear you both? I'm not that old."

"And how old is that?" Jamie asked half teasing, half with genuine curiosity, while Elias pinked, snorting loudly once more.

Claire stopped in her tracks and spun on her heels, cutting a look at the younger lad who quickly cowered behind the much taller man.

"I'm old enough to remember Queen Victoria but not the Bonnie Prince. Is that enough for you?" She replied flatly, crossing her arms.

Jamie went a bit bug-eyed, mentally counting the decades since the little Queen's reign. Then his wide mouth twitched.

"And ye say ye're no' a witch?"

Claire rolled her eyes and continued walking but a smile had peeked on her lips that encouraged Jamie to tease her more.

"Ye ken," he began, walking beside her now and shifting the weight of the chest as he did so. "There are auld highland tales that say curls wild as yers are the mark of a Ban-druidh, and that the crows favor them to make their nests."

She tugged at her dark locks and watched as they bounced back on release with utter disdain written on her face.

"They're more of a tumbleweed curse if you ask me," she frowned, making Jamie quickly regret his words.

"I didna mean it that way, Sassenach. Truly. Yer curls are lovely. They're like the ripples in a burn when the rain and leaves fall upon it. Luminous as the sky rich in twilight. And yer eyes, Christ, they're. . ."

Jamie's voice trailed off when he realized they'd stopped walking and had the wide-eyed attention of both Elias and Claire.

As well as everyone else on the street alongside them.

How loudly had he been blabbering?

But then a smile of pure delight broke across Claire's face, reflecting brightly in her eyes, as she tucked an errant curl behind her ear, only for another far more impetuous to take its place.

"How has no one snatched up a charmer like you, Jamie?"

One had. A very oblivious one.

Jamie sheepishly shrugged and found unparalleled interest in the engravings of the wooden box he carried as his face blazed the very color of his beating heart. He looked very much like a schoolboy.

Unnoticed by them though was dear Elias, whose sea-grey eyes darted between them both, grinning sweet as pie.

Walking down another street, Claire finally announced they had arrived, and the men, sore footed and muscle strained, sighed in relief.

The shop exterior was hard wood and painted coal black while the door was a dark and flaking green. And written in gold on the long framed window beside the door, Jamie read to himself

THE WITHERED BONE

Potions // Trinkets // Antiques

The Finest Biscuits This Side of the Black Realm

"Biscuits?" Jamie murmured, knotting his brow. "What kind of shop is this? Like yers, Sassenach?"

"Not necessarily," she said, hand hesitant on the brass doorknob. "For one it's in plain sight. But if you want to call anyone a witch the three who own this place would fit the bill. I think they even have a cauldron."

"They do. I saw it with - uh, nevermind," Elias choked at the last, blushing beet red.

Claire arched her brow. "Now Elias -"

"I know, ma'am," he drawled, fiddling with the strap over his chest. "Stay away from Ms. Annalise and keep to your side."

"And Jamie -"

He looked at her smiling wryly. "Ms. Annalise?"

"Shut up," she said, playfully swatting his arm. "You stay at the front of the shop. There's nothing there that can bite your nose off."

Claire then ushered them both through the door.

Inside, it was a cluttered jumble of anything and everything. An elaborate display of lost treasures from Africa to France and most prominently the Jacobite resistance in all its doomed glory. There was an array of vintage costume jewelry, stacked stop tables against the walls and racks of overflowing clothing a group of young girls were pawing through, where one in particular, all flaxen hair and big doe eyes, was swaying to the melancholy chords of a record that crackled softly in the background.

What makes you think love will end?

When you know that my whole life depends

On you

It was a tune Jamie remembered his parents dancing to. His mother had been wrapped in his father's arms as he nuzzled her cheek, softly mouthing the words against her skin. The young girl hummed it too as she gazed dreamily at a dress in her hands.

Overhead hung a simple iron chandelier that seemed to have been ripped straight from a castle's dungeon, dripping hot candle wax to a metal bowl placed on the hardwood floors. One burning drop fell down Jamie's neck as he walked beneath them, that had him cursing underbreath as he scrunched his shoulders and knocked his knee into a table, rattling the knickknacks.

"Ye break it ye buy it, laddie," came a voice from the front of the shop. "I'll take cash and the blood of yer first born."

"Oh, Geilie," said Claire and crossed over to the counter, leaning over the glass display of dirks and sgian dhu (with a cookie jar atop) to kiss a rather wicked to the bone looking redhead's cheek. "You are terrible."

"It wasn'a as if I lied," Geilie snickered, turning her attention first to young Elias who flinched under her unnerving gaze then to Jamie, blatantly raking over his physique before Claire stepped into her view.

"Who's the clumsy stag ye've brought wi' ye, Claire?"

"A friend who I very much like as he is. No twitching your nose or feeding him your biscuits." She then mumbled to Jamie at her shoulder. "Hansel and Gretel, remember?"

"Ye're never any fun," she pouted, then pointed her chin. "Have ye a name, stag?"

"Jamie," he replied simply, not at all trusting the unsettling woman before him with more than that.

"Weel then, Jamie, ye can leave that in the corner there and you," she looked at Elias with a devilish grin as she propped her chin on her hand and drummed her fingers to her cheek. "Louise will be waiting downstairs fer ye, Annalise too. But ye kent that aye?"

While the young lad experienced a sudden shortness of breath, Jamie set the delivery down and rather dumbly asked, "What's downstairs?"

Geilie's eyes shimmered like the feral beast whose blood she probably bathed in, chilling Jamie down to his bones.

"Why? Are ye needin' an ill-wish like the wee lasses over there." She gestured over to the girls taking their leave. "Mebbe something far more entertaining and lethal like a summoning? Those require a blood sacrifice, ken. Nothing so tender as yer sweet lass here wi' her trade of bits and bobs.

She wasn't kidding.

Jamie glanced at the doorway that led downstairs, carved with cabbalistic symbols. A faint whiff of bitter herbs wafted through a pigeon blood red curtain that shadowed it, mingling with a coppery tang he could taste on his tongue, tainting the air. It churned his wame with sick.

"Or are ye wantin' - Oh!" She quickly shot a strange and startled look over to Claire.

"Leave him be, Geilie," Claire chided, unaware of the questions in her sometimes friend's eyes as she threw all her attention on Jamie.

"We'll only be a minute," she assured him with a hand running down his arm, sending a shock of steadying warmth through him that he knew came from someplace bewitching within her. "And don't worry about Geilie, she won't touch a hair on your head when she knows I can shrivel hers like a prune."

Jamie smiled at his own Ban-druidh. Must've whispered it too, to deserve the pinch she gave him before leaving with Elias downstairs to the witch's grisly lair.

"I ken what yer after, mo bhalaich," came Geilie's voice, softly speaking to him as if he were a friend. "I can see it festering in ye like hemlock, yer love fer the Sassenach."

Jamie nervously glanced over to the doorway. "I dinna ken what yer on about, woman."

"Dinna bother hidin' it, no' like she can see it anyhow. She hasn't the heart fer it, ye see. Hers was taken by her old master, the wee frog, who lived in that house of hers before she di'. She hasn'a a clue where it is, doesn'a even ken it's missin', and wi'out it she canna love ye back."

"Why - Why should I believe you?" Jamie asked haltingly, for his throat was being strangled by his heart, ripped from beneath his ribs.

"Why would I lie, ye puir wee fool? Save yerself, getaway, or that love ye carry will swallow ye whole, heart and soul and breath."

Only when she touched the tender spot on his chest did Jamie realize he was bent over the counter a hair's breadth away from the witch, close enough to see the harsh and earnest truth pooling in her eyes.

Then she pushed him away.

"All done," said Claire, coming through the curtain, and cast her gaze between the two in front of her.

"What have you two been doing?" She waved a finger at them both.

"Oh, a little talking is all. Nothing more," grinned Geilie, face a mask of perfect innocence.

Claire hummed, believing otherwise and tried to make light of whatever she saw troubling Jamie's face. "You should know whatever Geilie told you, it's probably only half as bad or twice as worst,"

"Och, I'm sure of it, Sassenach. Shall we go?" Jamie said hurriedly, not meeting her eye. Trying to forget what the witch had said.

She slowly nodded, her face lined with concern, but tucked her slender arm through his and gave Geilie a half-hearted goodbye. Immediately, Jamie felt the blood in his veins flow to his heart now beating in its proper place and air return to his lungs.

But somewhere deep inside himself, Jamie could feel the beginnings of a rotting ache bloom and take root. He was already too far gone.

"You didn't eat the biscuits did you."

He managed a weak chuckle and swallowed. "No lass." But then he swiveled his head. "Where's the wee lad?"

In five seconds flat, Claire had Elias by his arm like a child, his face a burning fever red and eyes bowed to the ground with Ms. Annalise leaning at the doorway, a beguiling smile on her face.

No time is wasted that makes two people friends

THANK YOU to everyone who reads and comments on this fic. You have no idea how much I appreciate it!!

!!MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Now Author Notes

*First off sorry for all the messy mistakes and eye gouging writing

*Thanks to @soinspiredbyyou/ @mo-nighean-rouge for help with the line tweaking "Perhaps strung together with the phrase stirring in his heart." Although hers was actually better "Perhaps preceded by a phrase stirring in his heart" but preceded sounded too smart and too good for my dummy words.

*The descriptions of Cobhar are from the book cause I don't know anything about horses.

*The song is Never My Love

*I may come back and fiddle with this chapter but I really wanted to get this done before Christmas.

*Next chapter will be the last

#jamie x claire #Outlander #outlander fic #outlander fanfiction

58 notes · View notes

strangerobin · 3 years

Text

Rue: Chapter 6 (Jasper Hale x OC)

Just know that, in another life where I was free of lies and deceit, I would move heaven and earth just to stay alongside you. To spend a lifetime with you. Body and soul.

Stolen away just nights before their wedding, Jasper had mourned the loss of his lover, Adeline, for centuries. Until a similar face showed up one day out of the blue, just as beautiful and just as youthful.

Part 6

A plan of sorts that leaves neither parties thrilled.

She was still waiting for a sign.

On occasions, Adeline felt watched and the unease in her heart refused to subside. Something was about to happen to break this faux peace, she was sure; but just what it was she had no clue. And the more time had passed, the more on edge and paranoid she got, going so far as to snapping at poor Loreen for the smallest of things. She hated herself more than ever.

In the end, the sign she had been waiting for came in the form of flowers.

Cornflowers to be exact.

A bouquet was left in the early morning on the doorsteps of their little shared house. No one had heard the deliverer. Anakin and Teddy were away, engaging in their own businesses. Loreen was still tucked safely in her little fort of plushies and rag dolls. Adeline had merely opened the door to enjoy some fresh air and was instead met with a bouquet of cornflowers arranged with utmost care.

Your eyes are the colour of cornflowers.

A man she loved once told her. So she was reminded of.

Holding the bouquet as far away from herself as possible, she chucked the bouquet straight into the trash and went about her day as if nothing happened. As if she wasn’t bouncing her leg non-stop while watching reruns on TV, or how distracted she was, or how Loreen kept shooting worried glances at her. As if she wasn’t practically vibrating anxiety off her being.

The flowers never stopped. Every morning a fresh batch was laid on the doorsteps, Loreen even managed to steal some and displayed them in a pretty little vase in her room. Out of spite, Adeline thought. She tried to stay vigilant and stand guard at the door, but then they would only appear elsewhere around the house. She knew then that there was no running from this.

Adeline would bet good money on who her secret admirer (stalker) was. She did not remember him as a stubborn man; but from the persistence of his action she had gathered what game he was playing at. This was an open challenge issued to her, a taunt, he wouldn’t confront her upfront. No, he was patient with his schemes and would strike only when the hour was ripe; he was the predator and her the prey now. And she was so so tempted to rise to the bait. But she must keep her cool, and not loose her mind. He might loose his interest in her yet.

In a century or two. Her treacherous mind taunted mercilessly.

Oh but how wrong was she.

The next taunt came the next day in the form of a book, Frankenstein.

Specifically, the exact copy of the cheap paperback edition she had left behind in Whitehorse months ago.

In a fit of hysterics, she threw open the front door and went all the way up to the front yard and bellowed into the empty countryside. “Leave me the fuck alone you sick bastard!”

Only later did she start to question.

How did he find her? How did he manage to track her down from Whitehorse to Minnesota and now Colorado? She was confident of her concealment ability.

So then, how?

From a distance, Jasper watched the girl sitting at the front porch, lacing up her roller skates. The child turned her heard, seemingly to answer someone inside the house before finishing up the rest of her laces. Then in trepidation she tested water with the first few step, before gaining confidence and propelling herself forward into the open road.

In her flowy sundress and a light cardigan, seemingly not minding the alpine chill, the child spread out her arms and laughed with her head thrown back, as if she were soaring amongst the wind instead. She seemed like any other child, if it weren’t for her scent, and that luminous skin in the morning light.

Jasper casually got out of his car and leaned against it, unsubtly observing the girl. That seemed to catch the child’s attention as she eyed him suspiciously while zipping past the first time; before turning round at the end of the drive and passing by again. If she was scared then she hardly showed it. After a few back and forth, she finally slowed a few meters from Jasper and regarded him cooly.

“Who are you?” Her asked in a sing-song voice. “If you’re here to sell cable or insurance or fire resistant something, we’re not interested.”

“Ah I see so you are the Madame of the house then, little lady.” Jasper chuckled and watched as the child pouted and crossed her arms, petulant at the name. Yes, she was like one of those children too smart for their own good, sharp witted but quick to anger. And much too trusting. “Fear not, I am only a friend. Tell me, do you live here with family?”

“Half siblings.” The child corrected.

“And is not your half-sister called Adeline?”

“And you are?”

“A long time... friend.” He hesitated after a second.

“Oh?” Now her voice was laced with suspicion.

Jasper smiled charismatically and exerted an air of reassurance over the child. “Do you think you can send a message from me to her?”

The child frowned, clearly reluctant. “Couldn’t you do it yourself? If you really are her friend. She’s in a mood these days and I don't want to cross anymore than I need to.”

“I don’t think she’d like to see me for now.” Jasper shrugged nonchalantly, as if he was not in fact stalking the said person, but simply had a disagreement with her over a conversation during bar night.

She narrowed her eyes at him again.

“What’s in this for me?”

Jasper bowed his head respectfully. “Of course there will be payment on my part. I shall be forever in your debt.”

She pursed her lips and pondered on the request thoughtfully. “If I am to be messenger,” She began slowly. “I’d like a year’s worth of Ben and Jerry’s. And a year’s subscription of Netflix!” She looked so haughty then, so proud of herself for striking a deal that he had to chuckle.

“Oh little lady.” He said in between laughs, somehow adoring the sweet innocence of the child. “You drive a hard bargain don’t you? Yes of course I promise.” He put a hand over his heart and bowed. “Cross may heart and hope to die.”

That seemed to satisfy the child and she grinned cheekily at him, no doubt pleased with her little bargain of free ice cream and Netflix films.

“Here.” He produced from his pocket a single map. And handed it to the girl. She eyed it suspiciously before taking in gingerly, their hands briefly touching. If she noticed his ice cold skin then she did not make a remark.

Instead her eyes flickered back to him and she chewed on her lips thoughtfully before finally opening her mouth. “I hope... I hope whatever it is between the two of you, all will be well soon.”

Momentarily caught surprised, Jasper straightened his stance and looked to the house in the distance with longing and tenderness.

“Yes I hope so too.”

“Oh Lorie you’re finally back. Fun time roller skating?”

Adeline was sitting on the sofa, in a bathrobe with blankets wrapped all around herself up to her head flipping through the channels at top speed.

“I met a friend of yours down the street.” Loreen announced.

“Friend? What friend-”

“Jasper.”

She froze at the name.

“Come again?”

“Jasper was here and he wanted me to pass on a message to you.” Loreen stated as-a-matter-of-factly and handed over the old map. She scrutinised her sister; watched as her face blanched before being replaced by red hot fury.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Adeline bellowed, crumpling the map into a tight little wall. “Where is he? Is he still out there now?!”

Loreen shrugged, trying to convey the message that she was just as clueless as the other was. “I’m sure he’s only just left.”

Adeline bolted out of the doors at once.

“Jasper!” She yelled like a lunatic, and searched frantically, not giving a fig what the neighbours would think. She had other pressing matters to be concerned of.

How dare he! How dare he approached her family, especially her innocent sister! He had already shattered her little peaceful life! That she could tolerate, and she supposed to some extent, she was reaping what she had sowed years ago. But preying on her young sister like that! He had no right! Absolutely no right! How dare he!

Hidden under the shades of the woods she took off in a blur, trying to locate the man. But the faint smell she caught whiff of indicated that he had long since been gone.

Still livid, she stomped her way back to the house.

First the flowers, then the book and now this map. Jasper; yes she was finally going to acknowledge this, that he was the same man she had met all those years ago, and that yes he was a fucking vampire now! And one with no fucking sense of boundaries! His message was clear and simple.

Don’t think that you’ve been forgotten. I know where you are and I will find you, whatever it takes. Or you can come to me, on your terms. You know where to find me.

She spread the crumpled map out.

Washington.

It was a state map of fucking Washington!

Like a flame being doused with ice cold water, she finally realised her mistake all those months ago. The hybrid child she had met in the clearing… That was how he had come to know of her. There was no doubt of it now. The child must have told her coven of their meeting, and either he was part of the coven, or he was on intimate terms with them. Either way, she had damned herself that day when she had decided not to trust her instincts to stay inland. And like dominoes, a little push had unknowingly caused the whole system to collapse on its own, the shockwaves continuing to reverberate in the aftermath of the disastrous meeting.

Adeline cursed and screamed in frustration.

Stupid! Stupid! She was so stupid! What was she to do now?! Engage? And she would be falling right into his laps without a fight. Run? But for how long? He had proven himself more than capable of tracking her somehow, it would be all for naught. He had a coven; and she had only her siblings. Siblings whom never got involved with her affairs, nor did she wish to involve into the mess. And especially not her youngest.

Frustrated, she flipped the map to find an actual written message penned in impeccable cursive handwriting. Which got her blood boiling immediately.

Do you have what it takes?

Self-righteous bastard! Well she’ll show him!

Adeline was in and out of the house in a flash, clothes changed. “Addie where are you going?” Loreen was by the door, obviously concerned.

“I’m going.” Her reply was short, clipped.

“At least wait for Anakin or Teddy.”

“No Loreen. I have to go. You’ll be fine on your own right?” Adeline tried to smile to relieve the tension, but evidently the tight-lipped smile only succeeded in agitating her sister more.

“I suppose yes. But-"

“Stay safe dear. I’ll see you in a bit.”

And she was out.

She refused to address her other concerns; like what did he want by actively seeking her out, or how did he even find her when she had made sure all her tracks were concealed? What did it mean for the two of them now that the other was all along alive and well? What would it entail for either parties from here on? What would father even do should he learn of this?

All of the what ifs and hows and whys were all overshadowed by her high-strung emotions. Her action was spurred into motion and further fulled by her fury at her former lover. Really, she lacked even a concrete plan of engagement which she seemed to be forgetting repeatedly in favour of the raging anger within her.

One she had not felt in years now.

“Are you sure she’ll come?” Edward asked.

“I’m sure.” Was Jasper’s curt reply, even if the doubt was weighing heavily down on his heart. He was back in Forks, back with his family where there was still some semblance of safety and control.

For nights, he had sat outside of Adeline’s little house in his car, just thinking and formulating, the best ways to engage her. He could knock on her door right then and there, and no doubt she would lose her shit, and everything would be fucked. Or he could catch her attention and lure her out back to where he felt safest, and should she decide to come along with then he would engage accordingly. At that time it felt like a decent plan, but now that he was home, the plan seemed stupid. Either way seemed like it would end pretty badly. In the end, he had made his escape early, had not stayed to see Adeline’s reaction at his subtle message. For fear of rejection, for fear of being unable to bear the disappointment.

He was such a coward.

And now he watched as his brother grimaced and frowned, clearly hesitating whether to speak his mind out or not, before finally making his mind up. “It’s just… are you sure about this?”

“About what?” Jasper said feigning ignorance.

“You’re taunting her.” Edward stared him straight in the eye, somewhat sternly. “Is this any way to court the girl you like?”

“Well, says the man who stalked his then classmate in her bedroom every night.” He shot back with barb, clearly annoyed.

Edward’s face soured and immediately stalked off the other way.

Offended.

Jasper sighed and ran a hand absentmindedly through his tangled hair, emotions all over the place. He knew he was an unwelcome presence in the house lately, practically vibrating off anxiety within a mile radius and affecting anyone within. It made the others nervous, stressed even. And everyone avoided him like the plague.

Bella and Edward had taken Renesmee to their little cottage so that the little one would not be affected. Carlisle had taken to working long hour shifts at the hospital and God knows where Rose and Emmett were.

And Alice... Alice was distancing herself from him.

She had taken to avoiding him, bluntly. She was never in the same room as he was. Had stopped being affectionate like she used to. Their interactions were reduced to light pats on his shoulder, fleeting hand touches, tight-lipped smiles that never quite reached her eyes. She was clearly hurting regardless of what she proclaimed. And to make matters worse, it was fracturing the family.

Emmett’s the-devil-may-care attitude can be reassuring, but Rosalie’s disdain at him was dully noted. Bella was torn and Edward was still suspicious of Adeline but somewhat more understanding of his predicament, although apparently he had just pissed off his last comrade. Carlisle and Esme were only concerned for the two of them, no doubt wanting the best for the pair of them.

And there was nothing he could do.

Alice had made the decision for the two of them.

But it tortured him as much as it killed her. She was the light in his pitiful life for years, his beacon in the dark night. She would never forgive him for all his betrayals just as he could never forgive himself for being the one to hurt her,

And now it pained him just as much to think of Adeline, of his plan to lure her out. He had known her like the back of his own hand then. Though what an irony that felt now. The one he had meant to share his life with, ended up being the one he had known the least.

While she can be sweet and lively, her temper seemed to have a mind of its own. And her heart always dominated in any decisions she made. She was open to persuasion, but would never bend to anyone’s will by force. Would react badly and lash out if forced.

And he had forced her hand.

Adeline would come, she must. Because if she did not, what then? He could go back to Alice and begged for her to take him back or he could continue hunting Adeline down, but then what? He could not force her into anything against her will, he would not. While he was no saint, he certainly was no monster to force himself onto her. She had only need to say the words, with steel in her resolve and he would begone as she requested, forever.

And should she have changed?

It had been more one and a half century since their parting, he had changed much. How did he expect her to remain the same? How did he expect her to remain steadfast in their love? Or its lack thereof?

He was torn between being content with simple ordinariness, or pursuing something more, something all encompassing and consuming, but also elusive which might end up being a gamble for nothing.

Either required him to make a blind leap of faith, though one was certainly more perilous than the other.

"I don't... I don't know what to do." He finally admitted aloud to Edward's retreating form, watched as the man turned to look back at him with narrowed eyes. "I have the choice... I have the choice to move on like she did, or I can continue to pursue her to the ends of the world, like some psychopathic stalker vampire..."

"But you don't want to be neither." Edward sighed sympathetically.

"No."

"And yet you don't want to let her go either."

"No, I don't either."

Jasper shot his brother a bittersweet smile before lapsing into silence. It felt embarrassing to tell Edward of his inner most thoughts, but at the same time there was something cathartic in finally sharing with someone what he thought.

"If there's anything I learnt from being with Bella," Edward said after a moment of thought. "It's that every relationship requires the investment of both parties. It's useless if she doesn't reciprocate your feeling."

Jasper quirked his lips ruefully. "Alice seems to think otherwise."

"Alice can't see the hybrid's future."

"No but I told her we might be soulmates."

"Well are you?"

"I don't know... I think so."

Jasper looked up to see Edward with a smug smirk aimed at him. "Well what do we have here? The cold and calculating Major Whitlock stumped for once because he's confused what to do with his lover-"

"Edward!" He protested loudly.

Ed laughed with mirth before holding up his hands in surrender. "I digress." Then his demeanor turned serious again. "Like I said, it requires two people to be in love. A soulmate bond doesn't automatically make her fall in love with you and vice versa. At the end of the day, it's just a bond. It ties the two of you together in this life, you can feel her, might even need her. But at the end of the day, it's for the both of you to decide if the both of you want to purse a more serious relationship, no?"

Jasper looked away, not wanting to meet his brother's intense gaze.

Had he considered what she wanted?

He loved her, still. But did she want him in the same way?

"I... tell me what I should do then?"

The proposition pained him physically and mentally and Jasper closed his eyes and swallowed harshly.

But Edward only looked at him with a tenderness and pity in his eyes.

"Do what's right, brother. Don't make it a regret of yours for eternity."

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