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ushiko · 3 months

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pull up, pull down

ushijima wakatoshi x reader

summary: you have a really bad crush on the local gym hottie like you are down bad. but let's see if he can teach you a pull-up.

a/n: idk what this is. wrote all of it in one sitting on my phone so don’t judge me. but either way enjoy!

all you needed to do were some hip thrusts and the smith machine is right there! but not when he is right across doing pull-ups like it was the easiest thing in the world. you would die of embarrassment. it was already hard enough to not get caught staring at him every time you came but this is beyond that. glute day is officially canceled.

there is no way you get away not looking at him when he is right across from you. you wouldn’t be able to control the path your eyes take down his face to the veins that bulge through his skin. it’s time to change exercises or your entire workout for that matter. never hurt anyone to have a good back day. you slowly walk towards the lat pulldown machine when out of the corner of your eye you see his shadow move toward your direction. he couldn’t possibly be heading to this area right?

you were very wrong. he was practically right beside you as he pulled the bar towards him only making his muscles tighter and the veins even more noticeable. he couldn’t even hide since he decided today to wear a white cut-out tank that left little to the imagination. little did he know that he was about the kill the poor person a machine down from the way he pulled on the cable.

this crush began weeks ago when you decided to change gyms after a run-in with an ex that left a sour taste in your mouth. plus this one was a lot more quiet than your last gym. your first day it was going well until a god-like man with the physique of Aries and the beauty of Aphrodite walked past you in a mid-set. you almost hurt yourself as you watched him walk past. his face was stern but held a strong pose as he walked with an unknown confidence. it didn't help that he would wear the shortest of shorts that showed off his tree trunks of legs and the ass to fit. you’ve never seen him speak to anyone or bring any trouble telling you that he is more likely than not a shy man. he was just supposed to be your gym crush and nothing more but the more you saw him the more you wanted to know.

from his attire, you could tell he was a part of some sport as he owned many pieces of clothes from the same team. however, none of it had his name on it… unfortunately. he only came during the late afternoon or evening on weekdays but never on weekends. he walked in with only a bottle of water, keys, and headphones and left the same way. you only noticed him smile once when he was looking at his phone but it was only a lifting of the lip but it’s the best you got. you didn’t want to be a stalker but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the mysterious man.

“excuse me, how many more sets do you have?”

megan thee stallion does not have a deep voice who is that?

looking up from your lap, the man of the hour is towering above you when a barely there smile or is it just your imagination? the sweat on his face was somehow making him glow even brighter than an angel’s halo. how is that even possible?

you clear your throat and hop off the seat, “oh I’m actually done no worries.”

“ but you only did one set.”

you blink wildly and glance back on the seat you were just sitting in. how did he know that?

“umm well just not really feeling it today, i guess,” you mumble while fiddling with the skin on your thumb.

he hums and looks at the weight you had it set on.

“you were pulling higher last week maybe your body is in a resting period today, “ he rambles, “ you should still finish out the rest of your sets to see if you can go higher today before you do other weights.”

you just stare at him like a deer in headlights. how did he know all this? you didn’t even realize that you were pulling heavier last week. your brain froze as it scrambled to think of anything to say. the little person in your brain was scrambling through everything to find one little word to say.

“okay.”

that’s all it could come up with. it was too hard to think of anything else when the man you had been crushing on for weeks was standing right in front of you with a determination to get you to do two more sets. this also made you see that he had hazel eyes with the way the sun only seemed to shine brightly down on him through the large window.

“you don’t have to if you don’t feel like it. never pressure your body into something it doesn’t want to do. it’s not good for building your muscles or stamina,” he states while looking at you almost into your soul.

“no, you are right! i should wouldn’t be a proper workout if I didn’t do it all,” you stutter out.

you swear you catch a shadow of a smile lifting from his lips but it could have been your imagination.

you take a seat back down on the machine and begin to adjust your weights noticing that he stood by leaning against the machine next to yours. the gym felt awfully quiet as you clear your throat trying to focus on the machine in front of you.

as you go up to reach for the bar, he already grabbed it for you bringing it down to the palm of your hands. he pulled it down like it weighed as heavy as a raisin.

“thank you,” you mumble. you begin going through the motions as you continue to glance out of the corner of your eye seeing him still standing there. he stood firmly with his arms crossed and his eyes set on you.

the sweat was pouring down your back as his gaze sent an unknown heat down your spine. this was something you had never felt before and your body surely did not know how to handle this type of reaction.

after finishing the final set, there were barely any words spoken but plenty of awkward smiles and short eye contact. your mind swirled with the idea that he was also watching you too to a degree in which he knew you were lifting more last week than now. who is the stalker now?

“ im sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all,” he suddenly says as you grab your water for a swig.

you lift your brow and shake your head, “ no you’re okay you didn’t! I was just shocked that’s all.”

“shocked by what?” he asks quickly as he begins adjusting the machine to his weight.

you clear your throat, “that you knew how many sets I did and how much weight I had done.”

he stayed silent for a moment before he sat where you previously were.

“ not hard to notice some as pretty as you in here. just started to pay attention more that’s all.”

if steam could come out of ears, both of yours and his would be blowing a hot stream of steam right now. you watched as the tips of his ears glowed a bright red as you felt heat rise towards your face and tingles in your toes.

no words were passed between each other for a couple minutes as he blazed through his sets and you were gathering your wits. how were you supposed to respond to that?

as he was about to begin a new set the words ran out of your mouth like a track star crossing the finish line.

“ can you teach me how to do a pull-up?”

his shoulders jump as he lets the bar fly to the top of the machine. you stand with your hands behind you with a slight sway in your feet. he stares at you with no trace of emotion on his face besides the slight glow of redness sitting on the apple of his cheeks.

then suddenly angels begin to sing and heaven shines down as his lips spread to a wider smile with teeth showing through. you could have died right there.

“yes, I can. let’s do it now.” he rushes off the machine and heads toward the pull-up bar.

“wait you need to finish your set!” you exclaim as you try to quickly catch up with him.

a chuckle passes his lips as he looks at you over his shoulder, “ i didn’t need to do those anyways.”

no one has ever made you more silent in the moment till now.

you both now stand at the pull-up bar waiting for someone to make the first move. or at least speak or move. his words have your brain frantically looking for anything to say.

“my name is wakatoshi ushijima by the way. never really introduced myself,” he lets a slight chuckle while rubbing the back of his neck.

“im (y/n) (l/n), it’s great to finally meet you,” you joke as a laugh passes your lips.

he laughs back, “you as well. now are you ready for a pull-up?”

that’s how you ended up being at the gym on a thursday night for two hours with your gym crush. truly a heavenly night. with his contact info now in your phone as ‘ toshi <3’.

gym days just got ten times better because now you have your gym crush as your gym partner.

thank goodness for a canceled glute day.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

#♥︎ taywrites #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima fluff #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu ushijima

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pigeonpeach · 2 months

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I’ve Loved You From the Start

Chiori x oni fem reader

Cw: nudity, Fem reader, reader is big bodied. Pinning, fluff with some suggestive themes

“You don’t like it?” You said surprised. The kimono your friend had seemingly slaved over was truly magnificent to you. The beautiful patterns matched well with your horns. It covered every inch of skin yet allowed you full mobility. It was a boost of confidence to you, for your size was rarely provided in stores. Your weight was healthy for your kind, but humans still regarded you as obese even if the weight was mostly muscles. You were actually considered “underweight” by your oni parents who worried you were too skinny whenever you would visit. Truth be told you had to lose weight if you didn’t want to go out practically nude like Itto did.

“It conceals too much to me… most women don’t even conceal their ankles anymore much less everything below the neck.” She eyed you with a stern expression you couldn’t crack. But knowing her you figured she was up to something. Chiori hardly ever hates her creations. Old ones she views as learning experiences. You didn’t give her much creative freedom so that might be the reason.

“We-well I have to. Anything more revealing and I’d get those comments again.” You sighed.

“Oh please those folk are simply jealous. Your body is far more beautiful than any of those old crones were in their prime and they know it.” She said as she circled you like a shark. She lifted your hands and examined every inch until she just eyed your chest. Which protruded so.

“Well they weren’t all old people but I just can’t find anything my size there at all. I needed something like this but the price to have something customized is more than for other… normal bodies…”

“Nonsense. I won’t charge you a dime. If anything this is good for business. It shows I’m capable of branching out from the societal expectation. That my clothes aren’t simply for one body type but all who come in. And besides, you are far more eyecatching than any other model.” She spoke casually. You tensed a little but relaxed, a blush settled on your cheeks.

“You’re sure you don’t need anything? I could do a favor if you won’t accept my mora. I just can’t take this from you without giving something back.” You said politely. She paused, finally looking in your eyes.

“Are you busy today? I know you’re here on a trip but… I’d like to use you as inspiration for more possible projects.” She walked over to the curtains to draw them, placing s closed sign in the window and making sure not a single ray of sun would leak through.

“No actually. I was just going to go sightseeing in Fontaine. I hardly ever get to leave Inazuma so I made sure to have plenty of time before I return.” You eyed her suspiciously. She brought the paper screens to enclose the space, so even if someone walked in they wouldn’t see you two.

“Undress then.”

“E-excuse me?!”

“I’d like to see your body as bare as possible. I’m going to do some sketches for possible outfits.” She pulled out her sketchbook as she gathered some other utensils to draw with. You gulped. “You offered to pay me with a favor so this is the favor I ask of you. But if you’re uncomfortable I could find another way.”

“Uh… can I at least keep my panties on.” You asked. She sighed.

“If you must.”

Even though Chiori had been a good friend of yours in Inazuma, and had also brought you to the hot springs before, and had routinely seen you in your underwear, it was rather odd to stand posing while she scribbled. You felt incredibly nervous.

“Excellent. Turn around for me.” She instructed. You did so. “So obedient.” She whispered. You wondered if you misheard that. But either way you trusted Chiori. You knew she meant no harm, she wouldn’t do anything against your wishes.

“Um… might I ask what you’ll do with the sketches?” You asked.

“Make the one I find suits you most. I’ll admit its a shame you don’t prefer more feminine clothes.”

“Well I do its just I hardly get to wear them.” You explained. She seemed to light up at that clarification.

“Perfect, because that’s all i have been designing. Now if you’ll allow me I’d like to get a closer look.” She said.

“That’s fine with me.” Your approval seemed to evoke something as she circled you once more. You felt as though she’d bite or do something at any second. It felt invigorating. You had never felt sexy or desirable until you met Chiori. She treated you like you were the epitome of beauty itself. You did however deeply miss her In Inazuma. You felt safe walking with her down the streets. She had on many occasions left your hasslers speechless and sobbing on some occasions. She was known for her brutal honesty, even when faced with nobility. Its why you knew for certain she was honest in her intentions. And you knew that you would receive many outfits in the mail once you got home.

“Chiori… you’ve always been honest with your…um… sexual interest in me but I never knew exactly why?” You croaked as you struggled to maintain a facade of strength and endurance.

“Do you not realize that you’re almost what every lesbian would crave? A big beautiful wife, with a plumb chest and behind, thighs thick enough to crush, tall, strong, and oh so polite. You’re everything a femme could want. If only you would leave Inazuma. You know, a fellow fashion designer caught sight of my sketches of you from back then and she wanted to know if you would be her model.” Her voice never wavered in any sort of embarrassment. You however felt a shrill run up your spine.

“O-oh.. i didn’t realize you like women too.”

“How?!” She seemed baffled at that response. “Oh please no man could ever compare to even the most basic of women. The curves, the plumps, the lips-“

“No i just didn’t want to assume anything. I figured you might have been but i thought it was wrong to make assumptions.” You quickly clarified.

“Good. I’ve made my interest in you far too obvious. It truly is a shame you didn’t want to come to Fontaine with me then.” She sighed. “People here seem to like you. They don’t have the biases of those retirement aged folk in inazuma. They see you as a stranger but also a kind one. I heard you helped a beached boat the other day, those sailors boasted about how you did the work of five men in one push. I’ve even noticed how the former hydro archon eyes you when we passed her the other day.” You truly were baffled.

“I-i was too worried then that.. i’d slow you down. Please say you’re not playing up my reputation here. I do love fontaine but If I leave Inazuma I want to be certain its the right choice of place.” You looked her in the eye as she still eyed your chest. Her hand reaching up to gently play with it. She looked at you as you turned red.

“I assure you my intentions aren’t just to keep you here with me. I have missed you greatly while here. The letters I sent don’t convey that enough to me. But I swear on a oathe that you could sue me for, the majority of fontainians I have heard from have nothing but admiration or curiosity to you. And if they had anything else I wouldn’t hesitate to correct them.” You kneeled so her hand could reach your face and brush the hair behind your ear. Her face was closer to you now as you looked at her. “I swear on the very life of every citizen in every nation, I would protect and provide for you if you just moved here.”

Your faced turned red, a expression of embarrassment and flattery. “I didn’t realize your feelings were that deep.. I just thought you found me attractive.” You gulped. You had been a expert with pushing feelings down, you loved Chiori but you never wanted to weigh her down. You worried your heritage would ruin her reputation or chances in life. You loved her so much that you had been slightly envious of that special patrol lady who had seemed so close to her. But you kept it to yourself.

“I have long viewed you for more than your tits, the reason I look at them so much is simply because of our height difference. But your body is not the reason I know those stereotypes are wrong, that every liar who says you are something else is wrong. I have witnessed your facade crack to reveal someone who is strong in every sense. You may lift a log but you do so for the child who’s stuffed animal was underneath it. You stopped your own and first vacation to help a beached boat and regularly step in to safe those in trouble. Your scars aren’t from battle but from good deeds. Your heart is more golden and radiant than any ring or necklace. If you were a stone, you would be the most precious and sought after. I have loved you all this time and I am not ashamed of it in any regard.” She said bluntly. Instinctively you pulled her in for a kiss. She didn’t resist one bit but instead moved her hands to your waist that instant. A wave of relief and excitement rushed over you int that instant.

Afterawhile she pulled away. “Now let me show you the extent of my love to you, so you can understand just how beautiful you truly are to me.” Her eyes shone with a desire no longer hidden. You nodded as you laid on your back, your legs spreading slightly.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #wlw #chiori x reader #chiori x you #oni reader #fem reader #suggestive themes #fluff

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obsessive-valentine · 9 days

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Yandere!Ballet-Teacher x GN!Student reader (HC’S)

Teacher is quite older than reader but reader is a consenting adult, to the relationship, not so much the yandere bit obvi bc they don’t know. Sorry I haven’t posed in a while, life’s crazy but requests are open and I’m getting to those who requested earlier this month I promise! ❤️

Who’s completely committed to this industry and creating flawless dancers and productions that he basically lives in the studio and hasn’t bothered making a family or life outside of it.

When you, a new student transferring from another company, enters and he’s enamoured by not only your cute face or abilities but also your polite and positive attitude. Something he lacks and failed to teach.

He gives you a lead role, saying it’s your chance to prove yourself to him but in all actually he’s using it as an excuse to have one-on-one lessons with you. And then they don’t stop even after you filled your role.

In fact they become frequent, and all these private’s push you to be the top of the class. His star student who he uses for demonstrations, who he pulls to the front gently by the arm and finds a way to keep touching you -either with his hand on your waist or arm sometimes even as bold as your face, puppeteering you into positions.

There’s a clear favouritism but no one expects or notices when you both begin to grow closer emotionally, because it’s behind closed doors of the office or empty studio.

Also because he’s strict with you during practice, as much as he is with the others or maybe even more, but it’s different with you it’s out of love and admiration, wanting to push you to your limits. But no one know that, they think it’s from him seeing another student with better potential (true in a way).

However after practice he loosens up, he wants to know more about you and how your brain works. What’s to try make sense of his emotional pull towards you. Sometimes your chatting ends up keeping you both late, when there’s no one left in the building but you two, not even the lady t the front desk is there.

Times like that he has to exercise restraint, bring the conversation to a end and send you on your way before it gets dark. But he still wants more, he thinks of you every hour of the evening, wondering what you’re doing in that lonely cramped apartment of yours that you’d complained about before. Or if your home safe after travelling on the late bus.

He begins offering you rides home after your late privates. “there’s been a robbery recently near your bus stop, it would really ease my mind if I could give you a ride back” he says watching you pack up before you can refuse he interrupts you “it’s dark out and dangerous, and I can’t loose my best dancer. I’ll take you home” this time his voice was firmer and seemingly made up his mind as he picked up his car keys and gestured you to follow, not waiting for a answer.

Car rides became frequent, everytime after a late private he’d drive you home. But now he’s worrying about other things, are you eating right? Ballet dancers are notorious for under eating. Are you sleeping enough? you looked a bit tired today.

He keeps a strict facade in-front of others, mastering a poker face and strong voice that makes anything he says sound like a fact or non-negotiable. And despite loosening up once your both alone or class is done he still exercises this authoritative tone to get you to answer his questions, like a loving interrogation.

He notices you begin to form a crush on him after a few personal talks and times together. He encourages this and begins teasing these emotions, every action seems more intimate.

He’s your hot, grumpy, ballet teacher -who deep down has a heart of gold. Who you can rely on beyond class. Who’s office you can sit in and vent to him. Who makes you feel better during hard times and offers to buy food for you or encourage you to take a nap on his sofa in the office. Who buys you any equipment or shoes you need, in fact as soon as your shoes are looking dead he’s ordering a new pair buy the end of the day without you having to mention it.

#yandere oc #yandere #x reader #Yandere ballet teacher

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 3 months

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PROLOGUE

(Gif and photo of Michaela DePrince)

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This is my first fanfiction ever. I believe pacing and context is important in any story. This is going to be a slow burn. Hopefully this prologue gives you a little insight on who Diana Sinclair is separate from The Party.

I am a ballet dancer so there is a lot of dance terminology in this. I urge you all to look up some of these moves and positions.

Anywho, let me know what you all think!

Word Count: 1032

Masterlist

PROLOGUE || PART I ||

Sunday November 6, 1983 - BELOV DANCE ACADEMY

Piqué tour. Piqué tour. Upper body. Piqué tour and…double pirouette en dedans.

“Beautiful, Diana.” Madame Petrovna praises over the melodic rhythm.

My cheeks grow hot and I continue to dance breathing deeply through my nose. I prepare myself for the hardest move: the Gargouillade. I still didn’t quite understand it, but let my body guide me through the movement. Extending my right foot dégagé to the side, rotating my leg in a small rond de jambe, while pushing off the floor with my left leg to do another rond de jambe with my left foot.

“And jump!” Madame Petrovna exclaims. “Yes, yes.”

I perform the gargouillade again, wincing slightly at the second rond de jambe. I didn’t circle my foot completely.

“Don’t show me you’re tired, Diana. This move is supposed to look effortless.”

I force myself to smile to hide my disappointment. Soutenu, soutenu, step, step. Double pirouette down to the knee and pose.

“Good. Very Good girls.” Madam Petrovna says, clapping her hands in her poised manner. Which meant we could do better. “Waltz of the Flowers to the stage please.”

We all curtsy before running off stage. As soon as my body disappears beyond the curtain, I deflate wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. My cheeks burn from exertion. The Dance of Marzipan was a little over two minutes long but it was one of the hardest dances in The Nutcracker Showcase as lead.

The Waltz of the Flowers orchestration begin shortly after and I watch the performance quietly on my own, swaying from side-to-side en pointe, the malleable shank of my pointe shoes bending with the arches of my feet with each shift in weight. I need to start breaking in my other pair of pointe shoes mom bought for me two weeks ago. These were dead. I glance at my wristwatch. 7:00pm. I sigh, exhaustion weighing down on me. We’re running late as usual.

“You’re doing great,” a voice whispers near my ear.

I whip around, clutching my necklace.

“Sorry for scaring you!” Mei Wong says.

Mei Wong is the Sugar Plum Fairy in the annual showcase of The Nutcracker at Belov Dance Academy. She’s also a senior at Hawkins High, most of the girls at the Academy are. I didn’t talk to her or anyone much, my shyness getting the best of me. I always had Nancy until she quit last year. Mom says I need to “put myself out there more” and make new friends at the Academy. The proposition sounded like a death sentence.

I sigh in relief, revealing a small smile. “It’s okay.”

“I just wanted to say, you did so well in your routine. I think Madame Petrovna made a great choice picking you to be lead.”

The audition process for lead was grueling and downright nasty. The girls at the Academy were extremely competitive and I didn’t have a competitive bone in my body, choosing to have fun and enjoy the experience. It didn’t mean I wanted the part less than the other girls. Deep down, I really wanted it and practiced every day after school until the auditions with help from Nancy, Barbara and mom on technique and presentation. The voice at the back of my mind constantly nit-picked my skills. Taunting me with cruel words and insecure thoughts. You’re too short. You’re not good enough. You can’t dance. You will never be like Mei Wong or Sophie Miller. If it weren’t for Nancy, I would’ve made up an excuse to not audition.

Two weeks later in the front room of the Academy, I held my head high as I walked to the bulletin board and saw my name across Lead Marzipan.

“Thank you,” I say. “It means a lot coming from you.”

“Don’t thank me, you deserve it. Have you ever thought about Juilliard?”

Juilliard? Last month, Madame Petrovna announced that Mei Wong applied for Juilliard. That was huge for us small-towners. Unheard of even. Juilliard was Emerald City to us at Belov Dance Academy. A place where hopes and dreams can come true.

I shake my head, toying with my pendant. “No.”

“I think you should. I can definitely see you going there.”

I blink unable to comprehend what I heard. Mei Wong is by far the best dancer at the Academy and she was telling me she can see me at Juilliard. The Mecca of all things art. The magical place far from home. Mei looks at me, concern etching her features and I realize I’m staring at her.

“R-Really?” I stutter.

“Of course!”

“Oh, wow.” I answer, sounding breathless in my ears.

Mei nods her head in response and I sense the conversation is over. The silence is awkward and a wave of acid wells up in my stomach. I have so much to ask her, but the words are caught under the lump in my throat.

“I’m gonna get ready with Ben. I’ll talk to you later?”

I nod cursing violently in my head for being so…awkward. When Mei was far enough, I groan plopping myself down on the floor. Stretching my legs in a straddle split, I watch the girls in Waltz of the Flowers. I don’t pay attention because the acid in my stomach turned into butterflies. Juilliard. I never thought about the school until last month and now Mei thinks I should consider auditioning.

You know dad won’t let you go.

I lay down on my stomach resting my chin on the back of my hands. The butterflies in my stomach harden to knots. Juilliard is in New York. Dad wouldn’t even let me see Prince in Indianapolis. The closer to Hawkins, the better. Dad didn’t appreciate change. He was at peace in Hawkins and its simplicity. If he found out his baby girl wanted a life outside of Hawkins…I’m sure it’ll break his heart and I couldn’t stomach the possibility. The look on his face.

I shake my head, pushing down the thought. I just started sophomore year and had more than enough time to think about college. Especially Juilliard.

#stranger things rewrite #black fem reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington x female reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #ballet #DianaSinclair #sinclair!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #Eddie Munson fanfic

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huggybug · 2 years

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more than my hometown - brendan brisson

word count: 1.0k words

note: it’s kinda short but… first thing i’ve written in a while!! yay! hoping that this gets me back into writing a bit🥲

“Come with me” Brendan pleaded for the fifth time today. The past few years, you’d gotten used to Brendan moving away at the end of summer. First it was to Minnesota, then Chicago, and finally Michigan. However this year was different. He was going to Vegas, he had finally made it to the NHL and he had to move to his new home; away from California, away from the beaches, away from you.

“Brendan, you know I can’t” You sighed. Brendan had always had the same dream. He was going to grow up and play in the NHL. When he was younger, he wanted to play in Chicago, with some of his Dad’s clients. You can remember when you were kids, playing in his family’s pool, listening to your younger brothers scream at each other while Brendan talked on and on about his big dreams.

“I’m going to do it” Brendan said excitedly, flopping down onto the pool float next to you.

“I know. You’re going to go play in Chicago with Kane and Toews” You answer, licking your popsicle so that it doesn’t make a mess as it melts.

“No really, Y/n. I’m going to play in the NHL one day and you’re going to be there, front row, cheering me on” You laugh but nod along.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else” Brendan grinned, splashing some water up at you which made you squeal.

“Why can’t you? There’s nothing you’re doing here that you couldn’t in Vegas” His voice brings you back to the present, refocusing on his packed suitcase, still laying open on his bedroom floor.

“My family’s here” You say weakly, knowing it’s not a very strong argument.

“So is mine” He answers, as if you didn’t know that. “Jen would love a reason to come visit Vegas. Plus then both our moms can talk about ‘losing their oldest children’” Brendan rolls his eyes. Over the past few weeks, Kim had been running around getting everything ready for his move and Brendan, while grateful, had been complaining that she was being dramatic.

Your moms were best friends, they had been since they were in middle school and when they found out they were pregnant at the same time, they immediately knew their kids would be best friends as well.

“Aren’t they so cute?” Kim practically squealed, raising her eyebrows when you came down the stairs. Brendan was waiting for you at the bottom, clad in his tux that was usually for hockey games. Tonight however, it was for your prom.

When you and Brendan started dating, the summer before he left for his senior year at SSM, your parents were over the moon. Your moms were probably planning the wedding before the conversation was over.

“Come on you two, let’s get some pictures!” Your mom herded you and Brendan over near the door. Your brother and Jordan spent the entire time making fun of you both, mimicking your poses behind your moms so that they didn’t get caught.

“Look Bren, I just can’t go okay?” There hadn’t been much of a conversation between you two. Brendan had assumed that if you weren’t coming, nothing would change. That after doing long distance for years, you’d keep on doing it.

His years in Michigan were the easiest, you weren’t in school or working really so you were able to go visit him often. His friends even claimed that you were their fourth roommate because of how often you were there.

“Why? And don’t give me a dumb excuse, I want a real reason” He crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for your answer.

“I want to settle down, plant some roots and I only want that here, not anywhere else” It wasn’t that you expected Brendan to stay here, you honestly hadn’t even thought this far ahead. It seemed like him making it to the NHL was so far away, there wasn’t any point in thinking about it but it had creeped up on you and now here you were, days away from him leaving and you still hadn’t figured it all out.

“We can have that in Vegas!” Brendan exclaims and you sigh.

“I can’t leave. I don’t want to. Moving away is your thing, you’ve always wanted to get out of here and I know that, it’s just not the same for me, it never has been” Brendan’s always been on the move, never in one city for too long and he liked that.

“I thought that we would do this together” He said quietly, staring down at his suitcase and the scattered clothes surrounding it.

“It’s your big dream Bren, I don’t blame you for picking up and leaving” You step closer to him, taking one of his hands in yours. “Your dreams are finally coming true and I’m so happy for you babe”

“It’s not really my dream if you’re not there with me” You hated how sad he sounded. It was like his entire attitude towards moving to Vegas had shifted within a day.

“Brendan…” You sighed, reaching up to brush a few stray hairs away from his eyes.

“Do you not love me enough?” Brendan asks and your heart stops. “Is that it? You don’t want to move because you don’t think we’re going to last?”

“Brendan I love you more than a California sunset… more than a beer you sneak when you’re not even 21 yet” You say softly, fiddling with the chain hanging around his neck. He chuckled lightly at the two things you mentioned; two things you had shared many times together. Brendan always snuck out two beers from his dad’s fridge, passing one to you and then grabbing your hand and running down to the stretch of beach behind his house. Countless nights on the beach, watching the sunset and talking about everything and anything, just enjoying each other’s company. So safe to say, it was a surprise that he would think any different. “I’m not the runaway kind, I can’t change that. I don’t want to leave this place, I don’t think I ever could”

“But you love me” His voice waivers.

“I do Bren, with all my heart” You assured him.

“Then why can’t you come with me?” He asks quietly.

“Because as much as I love you, I can’t love you more than my hometown”

#brendan brisson x reader #brendan brisson imagine #brendan brisson fic #vegas golden knights #hockey writing #hockey fic #nhl players #nhl fanfiction

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the-hinky-panda · 2 years

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Dustland Fairytale: Part I

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re a CIA informant that is well acquainted with the reputation of one Javier Peña but your thoughts change when you actually have a chance meeting with him. However you’re not the only one changed by the meeting.

Rating: Mature (Explicit in Part II)

A/N: I have no idea what I’m doing . This is my first reader insert fic so please go easy on me. I want to say a special thank you to @the-ginger-hedge-witch for your inspiration with the fantastic fic “The Crush” (if you haven’t read it, go do so now!). You said you wanted to be tagged and I apologize ahead of time for this!

Long brown hair and foolish eyes

He looks just like you want him to

Some kind of slick chrome American prince

A blue jean serenade

And Moon River what’d you do to me

-The Killers, Dustland Fairytale

You never planned on meeting any of the agents that were responsible for the take down of Pablo Escobar. You had served as a CIA informant but had always managed to stay out of direct contact with the active agents on the Escobar case. It had been safer that way and kept you out of the crossfire, allowing you to carry over to the Cali Cartel after Escobar was shot on that rooftop. No one had been the wiser that the local high school English teacher with a passion for Shakespeare had been a CIA undercover agent.

Now the CIA is shifting its focus to Mexico and you’re being moved. The DEA agents had moved on as well and you thought Bogota was behind you. You certainly never planned on running into any of the former DEA agents in an airport bar in Texas. And yet, here you are nursing your second martini during a layover from DC and trying not to make eye contact with Special Agent Javier Peña. You knew of his reputation, both his observation and his flirtation skills, and should have known that he would eventually make his way over to your side of the bar.

“Is this seat taken?” he asks, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

“Only if you sit there,” you answer, hoping this is just going to be a straight pick-up encounter.

He slides onto the barstool next to you and narrows his eyes. “You look familiar.”

Of course it isn’t going to be a straight pick-up encounter which is just your luck. You smile with some chagrin. “Yeah, I was in Bogota.”

He “hms” and takes a sip of the whiskey. “You’re not DEA though.”

“No, I wasn’t.” You finish the martini, trying to get some liquid courage up for this conversation. “I was CIA. Don’t hate me.”

He nods, a brief half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Informant?”

“Yeah,” you fiddle with the glass. The bar is practically empty and the bartender is on the other side of the room. Talking about your career is safe for the moment. “I was a teacher in the school where the cartel sent most of their kids.” You had seen him and Steve Murphy walk the halls a couple times looking for some of the older students who were running drugs for their parents.

He gives her a scrutinizing look. “High school English. You had your classroom set up like that British theater…”

“The Globe. You’re right.” Okay, that is impressive but you try not to let him see it.

He takes a sip of his drink. “Did we really get a lot of information from the school?”

“More than you think.” You smile over at him. “Let me tell you, no one is more willing to dish the dirt than a sixteen year old girl whose boyfriend cheated on her. Especially when he and the girl he cheated with are the kids of Escobar’s lieutenants.”

He chuckles. “Teenage hormones are good for something at least.” He extends his hand. “Javier Peña.”

You shake his hand and give him your name. “So where are you headed?”

He grimaces. “Murphy’s been trying to get me to visit him and his family in Florida. I’ve reached the end of my excuses so…” he shrugs. “What about you?”

“I’m headed down to Mexico. We’re trying to do the same thing there that we did in Bogota. I pose as a teacher and gather information. It worked well once.”

“Be careful,” he warns as he finishes his drink. “Cartel families like to move so someone trusted is along the pipeline. Someone from Bogota might make the connection between you and people getting busted.”

His advice doesn’t do much to calm your nerves. You had raised the same concerns to your superior but it had fallen on deaf ears. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. Good luck with the Murphy’s.”

You stand up from the barstool and he reaches into his shirt pocket for something. “Hang on.” He writes down a phone number on the back of a DEA business card. “Take this. If you run into any trouble, give me a call. I live in Laredo, right on the border.”

“I thought you were retired from the DEA.”

He shrugs. “They still call me in for consultations from time to time. Who’s your supervisor?”

“Stechner.”

His mouth pulls off to the side. “Then you really should take this.”

You smile and take the card from him. “I appreciate your concern, Agent Peña. Thank you.”

“Thank you for continuing the fight.”

His voice is almost sad when he says that, his eyes downcast. You understand his situation at that moment. This job, the undercover lies you live, the violence you witness and have to turn blind eyes to, it leaves you changed. Whenever you come back to the States, it’s usually only a week or two before you’re crawling out of your skin with the suburban safety that surrounds you. The brutality changes you and not for the better. Against your better judgment, you grab a cocktail napkin and write your personal phone number, the one only family has, and slide it to him.

“If you ever want to talk. I’m looking to get out soon myself and may need some pointers on how to go back to being a civilian.”

“Not sure I can help with that,” he smiles and it reaches his earth-brown eyes, and folds the napkin, slipping it into his shirt pocket. “Thanks though.”

There’s the announcement that your flight to Mexico City is boarding so you pick up your carry on. “It was nice meeting you, officially, Agent Peña.”

“Likewise,” he responds. “Be safe and good luck.”

***

You honestly didn’t expect him to call. You had thought it had been just an act of politeness so when a month goes by and he calls the private number, you’re surprised. Even more surprising is when he continues to call, once a week and always on a Sunday evening. He asks about the high school, the students you’re teaching and you ask him about the ranch and his father.

Even though you’re not supposed to, you do tell him about the families you’re following, the conversations you’ve been eavesdropping on during class time. He tells you certain phrases to listen for and what codewords the students could be using. There’s almost a relief in his voice when he’s able to provide helpful information for your job.

You find him to be different from the larger than life person you imagined him to be. Stechner’s opinion on him wavered depending on the day so you didn’t tell him about your pseudo-partner. Javier’s still a bit of a flirt but there’s an uneasiness to him and you immediately recognize it as someone who is having difficulty fitting back into civilized society. He misses being in the middle of the action but there’s a weariness to his voice when he speaks about Colombia. You’re always left wondering if this is going to be your fate as well when you leave the CIA. The desire to change the world will still be there but the fortitude to do the job will have eroded away.

After four months of being in Mexico, you find yourself looking forward to the weekly phone call from Javier. It is actually a good motivation. Your lesson plans and grading are done, dinner is made and a glass of wine is poured by the time your personal phone line rings. You also notice that the business part of the calls is getting shorter and personal conversations are making up the majority of the call.

“So,” he says this particular night, and you can hear him take a drag from a cigarette, “have you found yourself a boyfriend there yet?”

You laugh. If only he knew just how much headspace he takes up in your brain everyday. “Oh, my yes. I have so much free time down here, I just date almost every night. Except for Sunday nights.” You take a sip of wine for courage. “Those nights are just for you.”

“I’m flattered you make time for me in such a busy schedule.”

It’s not the first time he’s made a statement that had an undercurrent of self-deprecation. You’ve allowed him to get away with it but tonight, you call him on it. “And why wouldn’t I make time for you?”

The question must surprise him because he’s quiet for longer than normal. “I’m sure you have more than a few possible suitors in your life. Better fitted for you than an ex-DEA agent turned rancher.”

“And what makes you think that? Maybe my retirement dream is to live on a ranch.” It actually does sound nice to you.

He laughs. “Come out and visit. We’ll put you to work and trust me, one week of fixing downed fence lines and inoculating cattle, your little dream bubble of ranch life will burst.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work,” you counter. “Besides, living in the middle of nowhere, away from people, sounds like a dream.”

He makes a thoughtful noise. “You strike me as a city person, like New York or DC.”

“Really?” You had never felt that way. The loudness and brightness of Bogota and now Mexico City have worn your nerves to a frazzle. “So what makes me a city person?”

He sighs. “You’re educated, intelligent, courageous, good-looking-”

“You saw me once in an airport, Javi. No one is at their best in an airport.”

“Considering that I still remember what you looked like then, I would love to see you when you try to look nice.”

“Two more months and I’ll be back stateside.”

“I’ll mark it on my calendar.” He pauses. “It’ll be a date.”

You’re grinning like a lovesick teenager and so very thankful he can’t see you right now. “Looks like I’m going to have let all those suitors down.”

“Don’t break too many hearts now.”

This man has weaseled his way into your heart and under your skin. You find yourself counting down the days and hours to Sunday evenings, you grin like an idiot whenever you get off the phone with him, and you’ve only met him once. You hate to admit it, but the only heart you’re worried about breaking right now, is your own.

***

“So, how’s your cariño?”

Javier opens the can of beer his father hands him and takes a sip. “It’s not like that, Pops.”

“No?” His father gives him a steady gaze. “Every Sunday night you miss dinner to talk to her. Sounds like a cariño to me.”

“Well, it’s not. She’s CIA working in Mexico along the drug pipeline out of Colombia.” He takes another drink. “I’m just helping.”

“Unofficially?”

“Unofficially.”

“Her boss know about your ‘unofficial’ help?”

Javier shrugs. “That’s her business.”

“She coming back to the States?”

“In two months.”

His father nods once. “She stopping here?”

Javier pauses and replays your latest conversation back in his head. It’s a date. And you hadn’t said no to the offer. “Maybe.”

“This cariño of yours, she have a name?”

Javier knows better than to argue with Chucho, especially when the old man gets like this. His face is stoic, always serious, but there’s that twinkle of mirth in his eyes that tells Javier his father is going to tease him about this for as long as he can. So Javier tells him your name.

“Good, strong name,” Chucho responds.

Javier agrees but doesn’t say anything else, hoping Chucho drops the subject.

“You’re happier on Sundays.”

No such luck there. “Oh yeah?”

“Maybe she should call during the week.”

Javier wouldn’t be opposed to talking to you more but he’s certainly not going to admit that to anyone. He met you once, in an airport bar of all places, but for some reason you would not leave his thoughts. Your eyes, your smile, your legs, even the flippant way you said you worked for the CIA and “don’t hate me” with that little ornery grin has been burned in his memory.

That first month was the worst. He had spent his four days with Steve, Connie and Olivia but watched them through a different perspective. Steve was making this civilian life work. His marriage was solid, Olivia was a well-adjusted little girl. Hell, he even had the white picket fence and three bedroom home in the Miami suburbs. And he seemed genuinely happy. Javier wanted to ask him what the secret was, how he had managed to make the adjustment to family life but he left Miami without getting up the balls to asking the question.

He did not leave Miami, however, without trying to exorcize you from his memory. At first, he thought it’s just a simple matter of finding someone who looks enough like you for a quick fuck and you’ll be out of his system. He ended up going to one of the many nightclubs in Miami on his last night there and found a woman with the same height and build as you. But what sold him on this ill-conceived idea was her hair: it was the exact same shade and length as yours.

He tried to ignore the fact that he remembered all these details so perfectly by dragging this stranger off the dance floor and into the bathroom. Under the harsh fluorescent lights though, he saw her eyes were nothing like yours. But she’s writhing against him, tugging his hair and shoving a tequila soaked tongue into his mouth. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the curves of her breasts and the wetness between her legs, trying to remember the exact timber of your voice. Soon, she unbuckled his belt, her hand closing around his hard length and he almost lost his mind in that moment.

“So eager, Cowboy.”

And it immediately broke the spell. Her voice didn’t sound anything like your honeyed tone. He opened his eyes and stared down into the lust blown eyes of this surrogate. He had to get you out of his brain, had to free himself from this grip you have on him. He turned her around and leaned her over the sink, making sure her face was below the mirror and fucked her from behind so he didn’t have to look at her eyes.

He was disappointed that it didn’t do anything to drive you out of his mind.

If anything, it made the itch worse.

That was when he decided to call you. The first couple calls had been just on a whim, chasing what Steve and Connie had, that level of comfortableness with another human being. If he had to fuck faceless women in bar bathrooms or alleyways to sate that need, so be it. But he wanted that connection, that reliability that the Murphy’s had and you were refusing to leave his thoughts alone.

He had been bored on a Sunday night and wondering if you were safe, and if the number you gave him had been real, so he called it. He couldn’t tell who had been more surprised by the first call, you or him. But then the next Sunday came along and curiosity scratched at his brain and fingertips, and he was calling you again. Soon, the Sunday night calls are the only routine that feels remotely normal to him. It’s a touchstone that he’s latched onto with more strength than he’s comfortable admitting.

It’s Tuesday or Wednesday, he’s lousy at keeping track of the days of the week since Sunday is quickly becoming the only day that matters to him, and he’s out repairing one of the fence lines by the river. He’s taking to carrying the satellite phone in the truck with him, just in case something happens. The last two phone calls, you’ve told him stories of a couple students that have sent up some red flags. He hates this feeling, that stone in the pit of his stomach, waiting for the shit to hit the fan and he’s just the clean-up crew.

As soon as he hears the phone ring, he knows something bad has happened. He tears off his gloves and leans through the open window of the truck, grabbing the phone. That familiar jolt of adrenaline hits his system and suddenly he’s back in a familiar zone.

“Agent Peña.”

“Ah, fuck.”

It’s not your voice on the other end and his stomach drops. “Who is this?”

“It’s Chief Stechner,” comes the response.

Fuck is an appropriate reaction.“What’s wrong?”

“You still in Laredo?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you do an extraction for me? If I can get Y/N up to Monterrey, can you take her across the border?”

He’s already climbing into the truck and starting the engine. “Yeah. It’ll take me about three and half hours to get there.”

“I’ll call when we’re there and give you our location.”

“How bad is it?”

“Bad enough I’m calling you, dumbass. This is off the record, underground shit, you understand? I’m trying to keep her out of witness protection but we’ve got Bogota and Mexico City cartels breathing down our necks right now. She has files of information and they’re in code so I need her to be accessible and alive.”

“Got it.”

Stechner snorts. “Of all the people for her to be talking to on this goddamn phone, it’s you. I should have fucking known.”

“Well, you CIA people tend to be a little slow on the uptake,” Javier laughs.

“Just get your ass down here ASAP.”

Javier hangs up the phone and speeds back to the house. He leaves the truck running as he goes into the house to grab a bag of clothes, his gun, and passport. He digs out a first aid kit from the hallway closet just in case. He tosses everything into the front seat of the truck and finds his father coming out of the barn to investigate why he’s back at the house.

“What’s wrong?” Chucho asks him.

“I have to go down to Monterrey to pick up Y/N. Stechner called, said he needs her extracted quietly.”

“So he called you?”

“I can do it quietly, Pops.”

“Is this still unofficial?”

Javier nods. “Yeah, it’s gotta stay quiet.”

Chucho notices the first aid kit in the truck. “She hurt?”

God, he hopes not. “Don’t know. Taking it just in case.”

Javier slides behind the wheel as Chucho closes the door for him. “Be safe, mijo.”

He’s able to make up some time and reaches the city limits of Monterrey in just a little over three hours. Stencher calls him again on the satellite phone and directs him to an abandoned industrial park on the far edge of the city. It’s nightfall by the time he cuts the headlights on the truck and parks next to a shipping container. Stencher appears, Y/N leaning against his shoulder.

“Keep the truck running,” he tells Javier, as he wrenches the passenger side door open and helps Y/N into the cab. “Just turn back around and go.”

“What about you?” Javier asks him.

“I have to do some cleanup down here. Just get her out of Mexico.”

Javier doesn’t hesitate to put the truck in drive and head back to the interstate. He should feel badly about leaving Stechner behind but the man has spent more time double-dealing than Javier has. Stechner’s like a cat, always landing on his feet. Javier glances over at you and almost can’t believe you’re alive, breathing, and sitting in his truck. But the elated feeling doesn’t last for long as he notices you shifting your arm, trying to find a comfortable position.

“You alright?”

You nod tightly. “Yeah. Fine.”

But your face is pinched and pale under highway lights. “You don’t look alright.”

“Such a charmer, Javi.” You grimace. “I got grazed, that’s all. Hurts like hell but it’s minor.”

“What the hell happened?”

You shake your head and laugh humorlessly. “Those teenage hormones will get you every time.”

***

You should have known better.

You had been in this line of work for over ten years, had more than one gun pointed in your direction over those years. But never before had you thought an eleven year old boy would have pulled the trigger. Thankfully, the bullet grazed the outside of your left arm and had done minimal damage. And you couldn’t blame the kid either, he had been convinced he was defending his family.

“You were right,” you end up confessing. “A family in Bogota moved their cousins up to Mexico City to watch the drugs. The girlfriend slipped me a note that they were coming for me that night. Stechner pulled me out at the end of the school day so we didn’t raise any suspicion but the boyfriend and his younger brother were at my apartment when I showed up to grab my things. I didn’t think the eleven year old brother had the balls to shoot me but,” you motion to your arm, “he did.”

Javier looks over and raises his eyebrows at the blood seeping through the cotton bandage. “At least he had bad aim.”

“Thank God for that.”

He leans down and fishes for something under the seat of the truck. He pulls out a half filled bottle of whiskey and hands it to you. “Here, it’ll help with the pain until we can get you properly treated.”

You take the bottle and unscrew the cap, taking three large gulps of the burning liquid and pulling a disgusted face. “How do you drink this stuff? It tastes like lighter fluid.”

“Sorry, I forgot to pick up a bottle of wine on my way to rescue you from the cartels.”

The whiskey does help with the pain. You draw your legs up underneath you and lean your head back on the top of the bench seat. “You remembered I drink wine?”

He tenses his jaw, like you caught him in something he didn’t want you to notice. After a moment’s hesitation though, he shrugs. “Malbec, right?”

You take another shot of the whiskey, the liquor helping you feel boneless and drowsy. “I’m impressed.”

He reaches behind the seat and extracts a cotton blanket. “Probably smells like horses but if you get cold, use it.”

You take the blanket and shake it out. It does faintly smell like horses but the fabric is soft and well-worn. You wrap yourself up in it, take one last sip of whiskey and screw the cap back on, sliding the bottle back under the seat. “Whiskey and a horse blanket, you sure know how to show a girl a good time, Javi.”

He gives you half a grin. “Set the bar low. The only way is up from there.”

“So what’s a second date look like then, moonshine and a campfire?”

“Done the right way, that could make for a nice second date.”

You laugh and curl up under the blanket. You really are having a hard time wrapping your mind around the fact that he’s here, that he came for you. There’s a moment where you allow yourself to think that the phone calls have meant just as much to him as they have to you. For the first time in years, you feel safe, which is not a small feat given your line of work. “In all seriousness, thank you for coming to get me. You didn’t have to do this.”

He nods once, reaching over to tuck the corners of the blanket around you. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have you pay for the gas.”

You huff a laugh and close your eyes. Between the loss of adrenaline and the whiskey, your mind is starting to shut down. It doesn’t take long for sleep to finally catch up to you. When you wake up, the sun is up and the truck is parked on a dirt road behind a line of trees. Javier isn’t behind the wheel but you can hear his voice in the distance. Your head is pounding, most likely from the whiskey, and your arm is back to throbbing.

There’s a first aid kit tossed on the floor of the truck so you grab it and start rummaging through it. Blood has come through on the cotton bandage but it’s dried now and stuck to the wound. It’s going to be a bitch to get off without opening the wound. You’re reaching for the whiskey to use to wet the bandage when Javier appears at the passenger side door. He sees what you’re about to do and grabs the bottle out of your hand.

“Hey, hey, use water for that! You may not like whiskey, but I do!”

You roll your eyes and lean across the cab and grab the water bottle from the driver’s side door. When you sit back up again, he has the passenger side door open and is rifling through the first aid kit for clean bandages and scissors. You pour the water over the bandage, soaking it just enough to release the fabric from the wound. Javier cuts the bandage and you carefully peel it back. He looks down at the wound and up at you.

“You called that a graze.”

You shrug. “Yeah. What would you call it?”

“More than a graze. There’s a chunk missing.” He takes the water bottle and pour more water across the wound before using the clean part of the bandage to pat it dry. You hand him the bandages and tape and watch him as he rewraps the wound, trying to ignore that uncomfortable flip of your stomach at the feel of his hands on your skin. Once again you’re struck with how different he is from the reputation he had in your corner of the CIA.

“Is that too tight?” he asks, a furrow in his brow from concentration.

You shake your head and fight the urge to touch his forehead and smooth out the furrow. “No, it’s fine.”

He nods in satisfaction and repacks the first aid kit. “If you want to stretch your legs, now’s the time to do it.”

You slide out of the truck and look around at the surrounding area. You really are in the middle of nowhere, just flat fields and sky as far as the eye can see. “Where are we?”

“Around Las Palmas.”

You give him a confused look and he elaborates.

“It’s a speck on the map, population is under 100 people. But it’s across the border.”

“We’re not in Mexico anymore?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Welcome to Texas.”

You should be relieved but you’re not. The cartels don’t acknowledge borders. Despite being safer in the US, you won’t be completely out of harm’s way. If drugs are able to cross the border, so will the cartels that are transporting them. Stechner is most likely right in his prediction that you will have to go into witness protection to truly be safe. You glance over at Javier, who’s leaning on the hood of the truck, and immediately feel your heart sink. If you go into witness protection, you’ll never be able to see him again. Even your Sunday night phone calls will be halted. It makes you want to cry.

“What’s the matter, Queriña?”

You start to answer when the pet name hits you. Darling. It only makes the idea of going underground seem that much more painful. “Stechner is going to insist on witness protection.”

He leans a little closer to you, his shoulder touching yours. “What will your family think about that?”

You scuff the ground with the toe of your boot. “I don’t really have family. My father left before I was born and my mother is a drug addict. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.” You watch his face closely and see the realization cross his features.

“So the phone number you gave me…”

“You were the only person who ever used it.” It is why Stechner called him; his was the only phone number in the personal phone.

His shoulder presses a little more firmly into yours. “That sounds like a pretty damn lonely existence.”

You look up at him and realize just how close you are to each other. You can see the pulse in his neck and smell the remnant of aftershave from the previous day. “I’m more into quality than quantity.”

He starts to close the space between you and your eyes slip shut in anticipation. His lips connect with yours and everything leaves your mind. All you can feel is him, the warm, solid planes of his chest pressed against yours, his heartbeat under your palm, the ungodly heat he’s giving off despite the chill in the early morning air. Your fingers find their way into the fabric of his shirt and tighten their hold until your knuckles are white. His broad hand splays across your back, pressing you closer to him. You felt safe before but now you feel damn near invincible. There is no way you can go into witness protection and leave this man behind. If you had to run from cartels for the rest of your life, just to stay in his arms, you would. The satellite phone rings and jars you both out of the moment. He releases you with a muttered, “fuck” and picks up the phone, his jaw so tense you worry he’s going to crack a tooth.

“Yeah?” he answers shortly and then pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, everything’s fine.” There’s a pause while the person on the other end says something. “Are you sure? It’s not…okay. You understand that….okay, okay. Alright then. Call me if you change your mind.” He drops the phone back onto the hood of the truck and rubs his face. “Ay Dios mío”

Dread starts to fill your chest and you cross your arms against the feeling. “Who was that?”

“My father. He wants me to bring you to the farm in Laredo, let you stay there until Stechner figures out what to do with you.”

“Does your father know what kind of danger he’s putting himself in by offering that?” You shake your head. “You’ve already stuck your neck on the line for me. I don’t want your father to do it either. We’ll come up with another plan.”

He’s staring at your face intently, trying to find something but you don’t know what. You think he’s going to kiss you again, and you certainly wouldn’t complain, but the intensity is different. He’s planning and you don’t care what he comes up with, as long as you can breathe the same air as him, you’ll agree to it.

“I have an idea,” he starts to say with a measured pace. “But you have to be willing to say no if you don’t want to and we’ll come up with something else.”

“Okay.”

He lifts one of his arms and you slide underneath it, the reassuring weight and warmth of it calming your nerves. God, he is more addicting than the drugs you’ve been trying to stop from being produced. You lay your cheek against his shoulder and feel him run his fingers through your hair. The gentle pressure from his fingertips starts to lull you back to sleep.

“Queriña?”

“Hm?”

“Where did you grow up?”

“Phoenix, Arizona.”

He laughs slightly. “I knew you were a city girl. Have you ever had experience with living in a small town?”

“No.” You’re wondering where he’s going with this line of questioning.

“Small towns are a completely different breed from cities. Everyone knows you and your business; they see it as their right to be involved in your life.”

“And you like this?”

“No, nobody likes that part of it. But, it does create a strong community.” He pauses. “A protective community.”

“They’ll protect you, not me though. I’ll be an outsider.”

He takes a deep breath and his hand stills in your hair. “Here’s the part you can say no to. They’ll protect you if they think you’re part of my family. If the hometown hero shows up saying he’s married, they’ll accept you on principle.”

Your mind is trying to process what he’s saying and you’re certain you’re not hearing him correctly. But his pulse is racing against your forehead and you swear he’s stopped breathing.“You want to fake being married so the community won’t sell me out?”

He sighs and starts to pull away. “It’s a dumb idea-”

“No,” you cut him off, tightening your arm around his waist to keep him pressed to you. “It’s a great idea. You’re willing to do that? For me?”

He shrugs and tries to look nonchalant about it. “You’re doing me a favor actually. Ever since I’ve been back, the parents of single women have been trying to get me to marry their daughters. So this will put a stop to that. And, you’ll be safer in the Laredo community than witness protection.”

You allow yourself a moment to indulge in the dream of being married to this kind, handsome, and heroic man, living in a small town with strong community ties. It’s a life you imagined while sitting in your apartment and listening to gang shootouts in the streets and replacing panes of glass that had bullet holes in them. The picture that Javier has painted of Loredo sounds like a fairytale to be honest. But the reality of the situation dawns on you.

Javier squeezes you lightly, just enough to break you out of your thoughts. “We can come up with another story, Queriña.”

“I’m still worried about your father, and the town. If the cartels come looking-”

“You’ll just have to stay on the farm, out of sight. As for my father,” he reaches behind you and grabs the phone, dialing it with his free hand. He keeps you tucked next to his side and you can hear the tone, not necessarily the words, of the man on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Pops,” Javier greets. “We got a new plan.”

You listen nervously as Javier explains the ruse to his father and informs him of the danger this could potentially pose. The older man laughs and says something in Spanish that you can’t quite make out.

“Eso es lo que le dije.” (That’s what I told her.)

You narrow your eyes up at him but he just winks at you.

“Nos vemos pronto entonces.” (We’ll see you soon then.) There’s another pause. “Voy a decirle.” (I will tell her.)

He hangs up the phone and gives you a self-satisfied grin. “He said he knows the danger and it’s not for you to worry about.”

“That’s what he wanted you to tell me?”

“That, and he’s making enchiladas for dinner.”

Your stomach growls embarrassingly loud at that announcement. He chuckles good naturedly at your grimace and presses his lips to your temple.

“We can grab something to eat in the next town over if you want,” he offers.

“How far away from your home are we?”

“About an hour.”

“I think I can wait.”

His lips trace over the contour of your cheekbones. “Can’t have my father thinking I’m starving my new wife.”

You giggle at the thought. “Don’t worry,” you turn your head and capture his lips with your own for a brief kiss. “I’ll defend your honor as a husband.”

He gives you such a honest look, eyes soft and reflecting the same hopefulness you are feeling. You place your hands on either side of his face and pull him down into a proper kiss. Now that your nerves have been lessened from the first kiss, you’re able to pay closer attention to what you’re doing. You’ve imagined kissing him so many times during your phone conversations but nothing compares to actually being able to do it. He has a way of being everywhere at once, his hands roaming your body while his tongue plunders your mouth. No wonder so many women threw themselves at him in Colombia. Strength and sweetness rarely go together but Javier has mastered the combination.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “You’re going to be a very busy woman defending me.”

You card your fingers through his hair and keep your injured arm around his waist. “I told you, Javi, I don’t shy away from hard work.”

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fic #narcos fic #dustland fairytale series #hinky writes

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pa-stella · 2 years

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softly rubbing their nose against the others: a prompt for kuko and jyushi? ❤❤❤

Sorry, anon, this came out shorter than expected and the prompt was just slightly mentioned. I hope you'll like it nonetheless! Title: Memento Fandom: Hypnosis Mic Pairing: Kuuko/Jyushi Prompt: Softly rubbing their nose against the other’s Content: fluff stuff, my favorite Hitoya's pose

“Please, Kuko-san! I want a little keepsake of the beautiful day we had together!”

“Jyushi, you don’t need to beg for something like this.” Kuko raised a single eyebrow and chuckled. “We are talking about purikura…”

The two teammates had spent the entire day around Sakae, window shopping and eating junk food together. After Bad Ass Temple’s loss at the second Division Rap Battle, they both needed some free time to relax and remove any kind of negative energy from them, as Kuko said. The main event of that day would have been a music event near the TV Tower but, since there was still time before that, Jyushi had proposed to stop by a photobooth to take some pictures.

“So you’re cool with it?” He sounded sincerely surprised.

“Yeah, why not? It’s really fun!” Kuko grinned while inserting some coins in the only vacant machine.

Jyushi thanked him a few times as they entered the booth. It was a very basic purikura stall, without props and accessories. Maybe that was the reason why it was still free when they arrived.

“We can show them to Hitoya-san next week during practice…” The visual kei singer suggested. Hitoya had refused to join them for the relaxing day using his job as an excuse, but Kuko knew the man was probably pissed off about his personal defeat against Matenrou’s leader, Jakurai.

“Mh, I think he’ll need more to stop sulking…” The monk sighed.

“What?”

“Nevermind. Shall we start?”

As minutes passed, the couple kept switching from cute stances to dumb expressions while the automatic camera took their pictures. They even copied one of Hitoya’s iconic poses, pretending to fix an invisible pompadour hairstyle, and agreed to send that pic to him that same evening.

After one last Jojo pose, they exited the booth and Jyushi started to choose which photos they should keep and decorate. Kuko observed him as he added cat ears to one of their cute portraits.

When Jyushi perceived the attentive gaze of the other, he blushed a little. “K-Kuko-san, you should add something too…”

“Oh, right… let me see if they have decorations with bats…” He approached the screen, searching for more gloomy stickers.

Jyushi pointed to one in particular and came a little closer to his teammate. “This one, maybe?”

Kuko looked at him, getting distracted once again. He moved without thinking and kissed him on the cheek. Jyushi froze for an instant, but then he turned to smile at the monk. “What are you doing?” He asked while he waited for the pics to be printed.

“Nothing.” Kuko replied with an innocent tone in his voice. He took a glance around them before adding some more coins to the machine.

“Eh? Do you want to take more pictures?”

The monk nodded and showed him a devilish expression. “Yes, but these pictures won’t be for Hitoya-san’s eyes.”

Jyushi gasped when Kuko grabbed his hand and dragged him back inside the booth. “W-What do you mean?”

Rolling his eyes, the short man pulled him down a little by his gray jacket and they looked at each other’s eyes. “What do you think I mean?” He asked as he started to rub his nose against Jyushi’s. The tender gesture made the teen blush even more.

“But… K-Kuko-san, what if somebody…”

“C’mon, Jyushi. A few kisses, nothing more!” Kuko chuckled and kissed him on the lips. “Didn’t you want a cute memento of this day?”

Jyushi found himself nodding without realizing it.

#writing? in this economy?#hypnosis mic #kuko harai #jyushi aimono #kuujyu #bad ass temple

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ruki--mukami · 1 year

Note

Knocking on Ruki’s bedroom door, Virek entered, seeing the man inside.

“Hey… You’ve been in here a while, but… I have something for you.”

Virek held two rectangular shaped boxes in his hands. One being larger than the other, as the boy stood in the doorway.

“I don’t know much about the holiday… Or what I should have gotten you, but…”

The smaller box, which rested on top, contained a book. Mystery novel that had out pages all out of order, in which you had to take apart and rearrange to understand the story properly. The larger box? A puzzle. A blank jigsaw, with a piece missing— Though this one was larger than the one the pair had done for Virek’s birthday.

“I know it’s not much in terms of gifts… And I’m not a cook, nor do I have any special talents, but…”

Virek trailed off, looking down at his feet for a moment, before taking a breath. After a few long moments, his head tilted upwards; an unfamiliar expression on his face.

He was smiling.

“ I’ll make up for the lack of presents by doing whatever you want for the day… So…”

Virek’s smile widened— One that had his eyes closed. The action felt foreign, and stretched his face in ways he wasn’t used to, but it was genuine.

“Merry Christmas, Ruki.”

hello hello jas !! ik you’re ok hiatus, so you can answer this whenever you wish! but i wanted virek to give ruki a little something for christmas. :’) and i also wanna wish you a happy holidays, or just a good day!! and i hope you’re doing well. 🫂🫂

“A human who claims to know little of Christmas… Well, that’s certainly new. What a rarity,” a sardonic chuckle echoed in the stillness of the eldest Mukami’s bedroom following what felt like an eternity of silence. “But I can’t say it isn’t refreshing to hear someone who also would rather spend his days indoors than outside, subjecting himself to the obnoxious Christmas carols and garish illuminations. If ignorance is bliss, then ignorance towards the holidays must be true paradise.”

While Ruki was the last person to ever succumb to the joys of gift-giving and receiving presents from a cherished one, seeing Virek again after yearning for his presence for so long ignited his heart more so than the warm Christmas lights strung all throughout town, or the sparklers and fireworks to commemorate the new year. Although he lived through and experienced the same useless festivities more than he would’ve liked, more than he could’ve possibly fathomed decades ago, Ruki began to wonder how his stance would change with Virek around. He internally praised the human more than he let on for not indulging in such an excuse to waste money and other resources all in the name of celebration, yet at the same time the Vampire found himself pitying the other for his lack of experiences, deprived of a festivity that all of mankind was all too fond of.

“Really, you didn’t have to go this far for me, Virek. The fact that you would go out of your way to secure something tangible, despite being unfamiliar with the holidays, speaks volumes more than you know. Come to think of it, just where did you find the time to obtain these behind my back? Well, no matter. And enough about how ‘talentless’ you are; talentless or not, I’m glad these gifts are from you, of all people. If it was from anyone else, barring perhaps my brothers, I’d return their presents before they could finish wishing me Merry Christmas. But… Whatever I want, for the rest of the day? That’s bold even for you. Someone as bright as you should know that you’re practically inviting me to torment you.”

Almost hesitantly taking the presents into his large, calloused hands, Ruki unraveled its contents to reveal the disarranged mystery novel as well as the jigsaw with one of its pieces missing. A knowing smirk quickly spread across his visage at the thought of a task so intellectually stimulating, and just thinking of piecing back together a story so intricately scattered about pleased the Vampire greatly. The same could be said for the puzzle, posing even more of a challenge than the one they did together previously, although that smirk soon dissipated at the most unusual sight: a smile on Virek’s face. Time seemingly froze over in that moment, eliciting a raise of Ruki’s brow as if questioning the human boy’s sanity.

“Virek… What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? You’re creeping me out with that look. It doesn’t suit you, and yet I cannot help but admire it. This is the first time I’ve seen you smile so sincerely.”

Approaching the human with an inquisitive expression, Ruki set aside the book and puzzle for later, gently snatching the other’s chin in his cold, pale fingers. Blue depths bore straight into the other’s crimson hues, a stark contrast much like their experience of the cruel world around them. Many humans revered this time as a way to gather their families for one grand feast, or perhaps even court their romantic interests in a magical, wintry setting amidst the Christmas trees and snowfall. One glance, and Ruki immediately knew those joyous occasions were stolen from Virek, yet he mustered this inexplicable kindness to gift the Vampire things he genuinely cared for and appreciated the moment he opened the boxes.

“Don’t smile so much just yet. We’re not finished here. Since you’ve been surprisingly well-behaved, I figured I’d get you something as well. It’s nothing to make a commotion over—not that you would—but I do hope you like it.”

In his other hand, a small, almost perfectly cubed present box emerged, neatly tied with a silver bow atop navy blue wrapping paper. When opened, it would reveal a snow globe: one containing the entirety of Kaminashi layered beneath a thin coat of white as the whole city occasionally glowed and flashed with tiny, vivid lights. Perhaps cliché, maybe even uncharacteristic of Ruki to give to someone else, yet he surmised holding a miniature replica of the area surrounding them in one’s palms would be only the start to their relationship of forming new, much more colorful, memories together.

“You and I have stayed under this roof longer than necessary, Virek. Even a good master ought to take his prey out for a walk or two,” he said half-jokingly. “Anywhere you want to go, just this once, we’ll go there together.”

🧩 WHINNNN omg I missed you so much, I'm so sorry this is a late reply. I hope you are doing well and thank you for the holiday wishes. ;_; 🧩

#diabolik lovers #ruki mukami #mukami ruki #ask #rp #virek sutcliffe #viruki #christmas 2022 #diabolik lovers rp

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

Note

heyy i had a question do u think roxie herself is racist having hung out with so many racist gang members and obv riff growing up? i understand she has a relationship with valentina, but sometimes we can have relationships with individual members of minority communities while still maintaining a racist outlook overall. i wld j like to get your thoughts on this! thanks so much

WARNING, long post ahead…

This is such a good question, Anon, thank you for posing it. As uncomfortable as it is, I do think it’s definitely something worth addressing. It’s a concept that I’ve wrestled with consciously while writing Roxie’s character, but I think your statement hits the nail right on the head.

I’d like to think that people tend to be optimistic, and that not everybody wants to believe or accept that a character is racist, but realistically, it is West Side Story. I don’t think Roxie would consider herself to be racist outright, and I honestly don’t think she’d be or act as such, either. But I could definitely see her having some subconscious biases that affects the way she sees things and interacts with others. Even though she is a woman in the 1950s who lives in a generally poorer part of the city, I don’t think it’s crazy to assume she’d be still have a little more privilege than some of her peers in the neighborhood around her, whether or not she actually realizes it.

And, still not making any excuses for that sort of behavior, it should be kept in mind that this was the 1950s, and things were different at the time, no matter how you want to splice it. Those in power who were supposed to be serving the people, regardless of race (aka Schrank) are clearly still racist and/or prejudiced, and they make no attempt to hide it, nor feel that they have to. It sounds awful, but a large part of society just accepted it as the norm. Who would have expected the youth (Riff, Tony, the rest of the Jets, and yes, to an extent, Roxie) in that time to grow up in that environment and end up thinking any different than what their parents and adults around them thought? I also think it’s very fair to say that there is a difference between how people should think how people would have thought in that time period.

Roxie has a friendship with Valentina, who is a maternal figure for her. I don’t think Roxie would wish her any ill will at all. But I think if Valentina would express her feelings about feeling stuck in the middle of the feud between the Jets and the Sharks, not to mention the general racism of the neighborhood and time, I think Roxie would sympathize with her, but wouldn’t be able to fully understand her point of view.

Roxie’s somewhat of an outlier- she did go to college for a semester. And statistically speaking, colleges/other schools of high education generally tend to sway people towards more liberal ways of thinking because it’s essentially a mini melting pot of students and professors from all different walks of life. But it’s easy to condemn something objectively bad (such as racism) when the offender is a complete stranger and there are no personal consequences. It’s another to stand up for something right and go against old friends, who are practically family, and other loved ones and risk those relationships in the process.

Long story short, do I think Roxie would go out and take physically violent or incendiary actions against any of the minorities in the neighborhood? No. Do I think she’d unintentionally contribute to the overall problems at hand by being just a bystander when injustices occurred? Probably, yes.

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

— just the two of us

request: I almost read all of your jujutsu kaisen writings and I love it. Your writing is really good! I do not know if a request about a fics🥞 about satoru gojo who is really in love and not very possessive with an oblivious reader. It will be fun to see Satoru try to flirt with her and she doesn't get it🤣

pairings: gojo x oblivious! reader

notes: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTEEE I absolutely loved every second of writing it! thank you for the request and I hope you like this! 🥞 breakfast has been served!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none, other than this is unedited and written humorously rather than seriously~

masterlist !

Gojo doesn’t know whether he’s lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you’ve got no idea he’s so in love with you.

It’s a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to school with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to “get that vitamin D.”

Satoru snickers at your statement, because you’d totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you’d notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if maybe you’d inherited the Six Eyes instead of him, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?

He doesn’t even know where it began. A year ago, Yaga introduced you as the newest staff member. You’d been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried if maybe the kids wouldn’t love. They did, of course, how could they not. Not only were you extremely fun to be with, you’re also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of the students got injured over a mission.

Shoko reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that they’re still only kids and should be out having fun.

Yeah, maybe that’s where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Satoru’s heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave for work, mock-saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don’t get a single thing.

“That café was really good,” you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Satoru sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. “We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the kids with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!”

Satoru masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time Megumi called you mom and dad by accident, to which you happily responded with before tackling the boy in hugs, while the strongest jujutsu sorcerer only flushed in embarrassment.

Him being him though, Satoru played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. “Huh, a dad?” he smirks, “The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N.”

The raven haired first year student immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. “Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don’t see you marrying my mom or anything,” Just as Megumi nearly howls in laughter – another evidence that you’re really something else to get the usually stoic boy to lose his composure like that – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. “Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays.”

Hopeless, Satoru wants to say, you’re absolutely, utterly hopeless.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn’t give up. “How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?”

Say yes, say yes – please say yes.

Really though, he’s waiting for that ‘no’ already. Satoru knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in the countryside, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn’t so easy to find in the city.

But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. “Really? You’d like to go to the movies with me?”

“Of course I would,” Satoru tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he’s completely taken aback. He’s the Gojo Satoru for heaven’s sake, he shouldn’t be this affected by anyone’s presence. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it’s actually happening – his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. “I thought there was a fly,” he lied with a chuckle, “But yeah, Saturday. I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Satoru wouldn’t stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Yuuji had face planted into the ground and Megumi sprained his ankle from training, he wasn’t able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He’s floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.

“Well, you look creepy,” Shoko commented in the faculty room the moment you excused yourself, “Did you land a date with her or something?”

“That I did,” he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.

“I can only hope Y/N makes it out alive,” Nanami announces from behind the newspaper he’s reading, legs crossed over another before he peeks above the paper, narrowed eyes dead set on the blindfolded man. “Don’t be too wild with her, Satoru. She’s a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I humbly suggest you don’t mess with her feelings.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!”

“Who’s cute?”

Shoko nearly spits out her coffee the moment you enter, glancing around the room and sitting down next to a shock-still Satoru. Nanami only huffs in his seat with a shake of his head. It doesn’t take long before Satoru regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he’s turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.

You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you’re so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Satoru chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.

“You’re cute.”

Shoko shudders at the same time Nanami just gives up on everything, folding his paper and lying that he’s got someplace to go with Ichiji. Satoru patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.

You’re silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Satoru ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?

Even Shoko ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Satoru watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of a wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. “Thank you!” you giggle at his compliment, “You and Shoko are very cute too! And the kids too, especially Toge! Not that I’m saying he’s my favourite—”

“He’s definitely your favourite student,” snorts Shoko who is ignoring the way Satoru turns completely gray beside you.

It turns out you still haven’t figured it out after all.

“The kids this – the kids that,” the tall, lanky man whines, his head falling back on the back of the leather couch. He looks so utterly defeated you can’t help but lean over him to check if he’s okay, but Satoru pouts and hides his face under his uniform instead. “Why can it never be just the two of us?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

This time, you’ve kneeled on the couch to hover him. You even pluck one side of his blindfold off to see how he’s doing, and suddenly thankful you can’t see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now.

“Nothing,” he assures, his smile hidden behind his shirt. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn’t the right time, and Satoru just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. “It’s nothing.”

It’s absolutely not nothing.

Saturday couldn’t come faster.

Satoru finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.

He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It’s another reason why he can’t comprehend why you don’t like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He’s pretty funny too – and his strength and power is already a no-brainer. Satoru can’t wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn’t like him; it’s basically a life or death mission at this point.

With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Satoru sashays out his apartment. Even though it’s already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.

This time around, he’s more than confident. He’s going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, “Wow,” is the first thing he says, pulling his blindfold down just to look at you.

Satoru feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to the countryside and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you’re an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you’re real.

“Wow,” he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. “You look very handsome yourself.”

Satoru’s been called handsome a million times before that it’s gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits different. If he was excited before, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.

He knows it’s not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you’re with, and that he was the one you’re going to the movies with.

All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he’s so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.

His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you’re sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don’t pull away from his thigh flush against yours.

In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.

He doesn’t even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it’s just the two of you.

Satoru reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he’s on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you’re so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It’s clear you don’t like him, after all.

You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.

Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Satoru knows he’s messed up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. “I should’ve gotten my own bowl instead.”

Satoru stares at you through his blindfold. You’re close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he’s so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. “Cold,” he shows you his hand, “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” you nod and slip your fingers through his. Satoru nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Satoru feels like he’s floating in his own Infinite Void right now. “Feel warmer now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “Extremely.”

Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don’t mind touching him at all, Satoru can’t help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It’s just the two of you, and you’re the only one he ever cares about this much that he’d pretty much let you do anything at this point.

“You know,” Satoru begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It’s now or never. “Shoko and Nanami are annoyed that I talk about you all the time.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. “Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?”

“No,” he nearly groans in frustration, “You’re really pretty and cool. You’re amazing during missions, too, when you fight, it’s like I’m witnessing a warrior princess. So cool.”

This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Satoru with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. “Oh, no,” he closes his eyes even behind his blindfold, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t think I’ll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words.”

“Satoru!” you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you’ve both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character’s friend’s death. “What are you going on about?”

He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you’d be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it’s you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn’t something he can’t fix. He’ll get you on the train one way or another.

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror,” Satoru whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn’t even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around you has descended into grief and loneliness. “I also called Nanami on first date tips.”

“Nanami?” you echo with a gasp, “Why Nanami?”

“Because he’s married, that’s why. Mans know some tips for sure.”

“Wait, so,” you chuckle nervously, and Satoru waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He’s patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. “This is a date? Our first date?”

“Only if you want to be,” Satoru shrugs, grimacing afterwards at how sappy he sounds. “Well, I actually consider this our first date and I’ve been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn’t dress myself up today only to come back home crying.”

Satoru’s heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It’s crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn’t complain though; he never will.

“I’m glad,” you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.

Satoru stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He’s feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he’s fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he’s feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?

“You always make me feel so happy when you’re around that I still can’t believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn’t get my hints.”

Satoru groans, “What the hell? How long have you liked me?”

“I guess when you started bringing flowers to Megumi randomly just to piss him off.”

Satoru wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you’ve started working with him, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he’s been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?

“God, Y/N,” he mutters to himself, “You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?”

That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you’re oblivious of everything. Satoru is right; he still can’t decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.

It doesn’t take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life, but Satoru doesn’t rush anything.

With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it’s just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.

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kageyuji · 3 years

Text

his teammate has a crush on his s/o

⤷ oikawa, atsumu, akaashi, tsukishima, tanaka, kenma ; [gn!reader] — part 2

tags: jealousy, fluff(?), a few swears, the teammates had to be mischaracterized a bit for the plot, and a little sprinkle of threats as a treat

note: you’re so cute when you reblog <33

━━ OIKAWA

oikawa was always protective of you, though he is terrible at swallowing his pride and will never admit to being jealous

but he couldn’t deny it to himself

not when he saw how mattsun laughed whenever you spoke to makki, how makki always seemed to have his eyes on you

then again he knew how much he could read into things, how whenever an idea got planted in his mind he’d overthink it

so he brushed it off and tried to ignore the bitter feeling he got very time you interacted with the other guy

it wasn’t until he overheard mattsun and makki talking that he realized he was right

“you can’t deny that y/n is cute, mattsun, look at them. probably cuter wearing my t-shirt though, hm?”

when i tell you he froze

he literally stopped, volleyball in hand. it seemed like he was frozen in time, holding his breath and eyes staring at nothing, but seemingly at something that scared him

then he blinked, turning his head to offer makki a confused but hostile look

“come again? i don’t think i heard you right.”

now it’s makki’s turn to freeze

eventually he’ll offer a nervous, apologetic smile and say it was nothing, but he also won’t look oikawa in the eye anymore

oikawa doesn’t walk away then, instead opting to walk over to the two of them

“y/n is my partner. not yours, ok?” “ok!”

oikawa then makes a point to have you wearing either his extra jersey or hoodie around the team, especially around makki

━━ ATSUMU

atsumu is another thats already protective of you, except he doesn’t mind showing it

he’ll deny that he’s doing it, but no one misses the way he puts an arm around you and pulls you close his chest, or the glares he sends the other person

he especially gets worried around other guys that you’re close with. he knows he can’t contol your friends and it’s not like he wants to

but he just wishes you wouldn’t seem to have more fun with them than with your boyfriend

what really bothered him though was the way you and suna seemed to get along — suna had always been the type to tease the people he liked and atsumu hated how he did that to you

he trusted suna though, trusted that even if suna did have feelings for you he wouldn’t do anything about it

atsumu had written off his jealousy once again, though he hated the way his teammate had made you laugh

that was until he heard suna say something like “they’re cute”

atsumu turned around quickly, jaw set and something like betrayal written on his face

“are you talking about y/n?” he says, as though he doesn’t already know the answer

suna doesn’t respond, just turns to atsumu and looks as though he’s trying to find some sort of excuse without actually having to lie

“i can’t control whether the two of you talk, but don’t you dare fucking flirt with them again.”

if you thought he was touchy before, he’s even more so now

he always makes sure that you’re either wearing something of his or that he’s touching you in some way — he’ll hold your hand, hug you, press kisses to the side of your face

━━ AKAASHI

though he hates it, he tends to get insecure

and he’s insecure about literally everything, but he’s especially worried that he’s not good enough for you

so him being jealous on occasion is in the package deal

he hides it well though, usually calming himself down enough by holding your hand or looking at a photo of the two of you

usually he’s good at communicating whenever he gets like that, he’ll tell you later whenever it’s just you and him

but he didn’t really know what to do about the fact that konoha had seemed to be getting more and more flirtatious with you

you were always at his practices and his games, he couldn’t expect you not to talk to konoha so much

besides, it was probably just his insecurities again... right?

he kept telling himself that, at least until bokuto had mentioned it nonchalantly

“what did you just say?”

“uh, the part about konoha liking y/n? or the other part?”

his heart drops, eyes quickly scanning the room to find you and hoping konoha wasn’t talking to you

but of course he was talking to you and cracking some dumb joke that made you laugh

and then suddenly there was akaashi beside you, wrapping his arm around you and staring at konoha with hostility in his eyes

he won’t say anything to konoha in front of you, the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable

but the second you’re gone akaashi won’t hesitate to confront him, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself calm

“i don’t control y/n or their friends, but keep in mind that you’re their friend. and i’m their boyfriend. and i get that feelings are uncontrollable but if you flirt with them again i might just feel like hitting you.”

━━ TSUKISHIMA

tsukishima actually wasn’t the type to get jealous a lot. even when guys openly flirted with you, there was a feeling more like pride then jealousy

he only really got jealous when the guy posed an actual threat, and even then he played it off with a cocky smile and pitying look at the guy

but this time it was different

he never got along much with kageyama, so he wasn’t completely sure why the setter had taken to talking to you of all people

hinata was the only person that kageyama usually talked to; it was logical for tsukishima to wonder why kageyama had been starting conversations with you

so he watched the other boy with a careful eye for a while and made sure he wasn’t getting too comfortable around you

it wasn’t until he overheard kageyama and hinata talking that he had confirmation

“kageyama, you don’t have feelings for y/n, do you?”

“well... i don’t know, i mean they’re cute and they’re really nice, don’t you think? maybe if tsukishima w-”

without missing a beat, tsukishima turns and smiles at the setter, “yeah i agree. the difference between you and i though is that y/n is mine, know your place, king.”

kageyama didn’t say anything in response, just wrinkled his nose, grabbed his bag, and left the gym

tsukishima knew that you liked him as opposed to kageyama, so he wasn’t exactly worried about it

but he did try to smoothly mention that maybe you shouldn’t talk to kageyama as much (spoiler: it was not smooth and all, you ended up asking why and tsukki had to admit what happened through red-tinted cheeks)

━━ TANAKA

the king of getting protective and jealous

he doesn’t mean to be, he just doesn’t understand why you chose to be with him of all people

he’s grateful that you did though, he honestly doesn’t know what he’d do without you

on the bright side though, he isn’t one to hide his jealousy either. if he deems someone to be getting a little too friendly with you, he’ll step in and let them know you’re taken

obviously if his protectiveness makes you uncomfortable he’ll tone it down, but unless you tell him that he’s going to make sure everyone knows that you’re dating

so it only takes once for someone to get what he deems flirtatious and he’s letting the other person know that they’re crossing a line

except this time it was nishinoya, and tanaka was a little torn

he trusted his best friend obviously, but then again he knew that nishinoya showed off and bragged to you a lot more than he did with other people

he watched as nishinoya grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it and then smiling

and then in no time, there was tanaka, holding the other boy by the collar of his shirt

“what the hell man?!” he says, then finally let’s go of nishinoya

“sorry...” nishinoya says quietly, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. instead of saying anything else, he looks at the ground and starts walking away

“i’ll deal with him later,” tanaka says, voice much softer than it had been

he wraps you in a hug, burying his face into your neck and leaving gentle kisses there. he won’t let go for a while unless you ask him to

━━ KENMA

kenma didn’t get jealous a lot either, he could easily tell whenever someone was flirting with you as opposed to when someone was just being friendly

the only time he actually got jealous was when people flirted with you. and even then he’d just walk over to you and grab your hand, giving the other person a bored look

however, it was harder for him to tell if you were close to the other person

which was why he was a little skeptical whenever yaku seemed to be getting a little too close to you

he tried to believe it wasn’t; yaku wouldn’t flirt with someone he knew was in a relationship. especially not if the person was dating his teammate... would he?

except whenever he saw yaku blush and smile at something you’d said, then said something to make you laugh, that was his confirmation

“so what are you talking about?” kenma said, walking over to you and yaku. he wrapped his arms around you, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could see the other guy

he saw something like concern appear on yaku’s face now

kenma couldnt help but smile, not when yaku said they were talking about nothing, though their was panic lacing his words

“hm,” kenma hummed, pressed a quick kiss to the side of your face, and then turned his eyes back to yaku

“well maybe the next time you try to flirt with my partner, invite me next time.”

“i-i wasn’t... that’s not it-“

“i’m not dense, just understand that y/n is my partner, and i’m their’s. step off.”

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leylinefiction · 2 years

Text

Narcos: Dustland Fairytale (Part I)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're a CIA informant that is well acquainted with the reputation of one Javier Peña but your thoughts change when you actually have a chance meeting with him. However you're not the only one changed by the meeting.

Rating: Mature (Explicit in Part II)

A/N: I have no idea what I'm doing . This is my first reader insert fic so please go easy on me. I want to say a special thank you to @the-ginger-hedge-witch for your inspiration with the fantastic fic "The Crush" (if you haven't read it, go do so now!). You said you wanted to be tagged and I apologize ahead of time for this!

Long brown hair and foolish eyes

He looks just like you want him to

Some kind of slick chrome American prince

A blue jean serenade

And Moon River what'd you do to me