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trashyswitch · 3 years ago

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The Naughty Ghosts

Virgil and Logan are risky siblings who look for creepy, cool, maybe haunted buildings in their town. One day, they come across a large abandoned house that looked like it was pulled out of the Victorian era and thrown into the middle of Florida. Logan and Virgil quickly discover the place is haunted. But they're not the usual creepy, evil ghosts you normally think of...

For @kanene-yaaay and Pumpkinpaw

SOOOOO sorry it took so long!...Again...

*sigh* I'm trying. Some of my motivation is coming back though. It's slow, but happening. I'm now on an extra medication to help boost my deteriorating mental health. Though the timing also has given me a big boost. Pride month has arrived, and my birthday just went by! I feel more adulty now! Kinda...

Anyway, this fanfic is somewhat of an AU that I threw together on the spot. I hope you like it!

Logan and Virgil were looking around with their flashlights, admiring the very old-looking house. It was HUGE! And quite run down. There were dirt stains all over the place, papers covered in water, and furniture filled with dust that rested there for decades. It felt unusual...and yet so mysterious!

“Hey Logan, look!” Virgil called.

Logan looked over and noticed a large dresser covered in a collection of porcelain dolls. He widened his eyes and adjusted his glasses. “W-Well...that’s not creepy whatsoever…”

“I recognize Anne of Green Gables up there…” Virgil mentioned, shining his light to the porcelain doll with ginger braided hair, and a sun hat with flowers on her head.

“There’s so many Victorian Porcelain dolls. And a couple french porcelains as well!” Logan reacted.

“Don’t forget that baby porcelain doll…” Virgil added, pointing to the baby-faced porcelain doll with red cheeks, and a night gown with a bonnet on its head. Logan shook his head to get the thought out of his mind and tried to move on.

Logan looked up at the huge roof and noticed the huge chandelier in the middle of the room. It was covered in pearls and glass...it was even reflecting and shining brightly as he shined the flashlight onto it! It must’ve been a beautiful piece of decoration before the home was abandoned.

“Whoa...look at that chandelier!” Virgil reacted. “It’s like a disco ball from the silent era!” Virgil added.

Logan giggled at his comparison. “You’re not wrong.”

Logan and Virgil walked around the Victorian-style house a bit more, and noticed there were still stuffed animals, pillows, and even flowers placed casually around the house as if it was still being decorated. “Interesting…” Logan muttered.

“That’s not the only room that’s decorated all fine and dandy…” Virgil mentioned from the dining room. Logan walked to where Virgil was and immediately noticed what he was talking about: all the cutlery were set up in their places on the table perfectly. But the napkins were folded into little napkin flowers to hold the cutlery. Though it was strange and technically inaccurate, it did add some flair to the usual style of set up.

“I wonder who would’ve did this…” Logan asked out loud.

“Maybe someone who likes their victorian history?” Virgil asked.

“Perhaps…Or an especially preppy person.” Logan added.

“Hmmm...Maybe both?” Virgil asked. “How about ghosts? Have you considered ghosts in your hypothesis?” Virgil asked.

Logan laughed. “Of course I have! That’s one of the reasons why we’re doing this!” Logan reacted. “I wanna see if spirits really do exist and if they’re more humble than the movies give them credit for.” Logan explained.

“You’ve officially hit the triple digits in times you’ve explained this to me.” Virgil muttered loudly. “I know. And it’s why I go with you. Because not all ghosts are as humble as you think. Most ghosts have probably gone insane from years of being stuck in the same place for centuries.” Virgil added.

“Right back at you with the triple digits thing. I already know, Virgil.” Logan mentioned.

Virgil smiled at himself as he looked around. That conversation usually happens at least once a trip. It’s quite funny when you think about it. Two brothers trespassing into old homes, checking to see if they’re haunted and then doing the pikachu face when something spiritual and ‘creepy’ happens.

Or when the police find them...that’s usually a ‘surprise’ in and of itself.

Logan looked around further and moved to one of the bedrooms. The bedroom was put together as well. All covered in dust, but still quite put together. There was a doll clothed and brushed, holding a teddy bear on the bed. Logan opened the dressers and noticed all the dressers except for the top, were empty. The top drawers were filled with old keys, old fashioned money, old paint brushes, a few jars of ink and...feathers? Why feathers? Were they meant to be quills? Because the end of them certainly didn’t look like quills.

Logan raised an eyebrow as he picked up the quill and raised it up a little. The quill didn’t have the usual fitted bottom that Victorian quills usually had. And even if it were a regular quill, it would’ve been cut at the bottom to make the suitable end for dipping and writing. But...this quill was just a normal, uncut feather. Perhaps it was just spare feathers for future writing? Logan couldn’t say. He never lived here, after all.

Virgil turned around and immediately noticed that one of the paint brushes was moving in the drawer. And it wasn’t just ‘casual shifting from force’, it was flying! He swore he could see it flying right now!

“L-Lo?” Virgil called.

Logan turned to face him, and noticed the paintbrush as he turned. “Yes Vir- OHGOD.” Logan stared deeply at the paintbrush and slowly reached out to grab it. “Hiiii there, floating paintbrush…” He greeted the object nervously.

The paintbrush moved itself back and forth in a waving motion right back. Hey...It was trying to wave back! Cool! Virgil walked closer and poked the brush curiously. “Not bad...Guess we know the place is haunted...By Casper the friendly ghost.” Virgil teased.

The brush jumped in surprise, and flew closer to Virgil. “Hey little buddy. What are you up to?” Virgil asked.

Then, the brush snuck itself into Virgil’s shirt collar! Virgil jumped and tried to get it out, but the brush kept moving away from the hand and started moving to Virgil’s upper ribs. Virgil giggled as the feather-like bristles flickering across his ribs. “Whahahat thehehe-” Virgil squealed as he felt the paintbrush move past his abs and into his belly button.

I’m sorry...What?!

Is...Is the paintbrush tickling Virgil?

“I...Goodness, I’m so confused.” Logan admitted.

Virgil tried to cover up his belly from the brush but the moment the brush noticed his distinctive defense attempts, something had grabbed him! Something invisible had grabbed Virgil’s wrist and started holding it up above his head! Virgil shrieked as he tried to pull his arm down with no success.

“LET ME GO- BAAAHAHAHAHAHA!” Virgil shrieked and bursted out laughing more. “STAHAHAHAP! WHYHYHYHY?!” Virgil asked, pulling on his arm as his exposed armpit was being tickled with the brush.

Logan started to smile as he watched. He started to wonder if he could feel the ghost. So, Logan cracked his knuckles and reached out beside Virgil’s exposed right arm to feel for a ghost. But to his surprise: He couldn’t feel anything. “Where are you, oh mischievous one?” Logan asked.

This ‘name’ Logan used, earned him a taste of the tickles as well. Logan gasped as his eyes fell onto a pair of floating brushes and feathers. Logan’s curious look quickly morphed into a wobbly grin as the realization computed into his brain. “O-Oh...Oh boy...That’s not good, now is it?” Logan asked.

This was the last thing Logan asked before he was forced into a fit of tickly hysterics. The feathers were so light and...feathery that the tickles felt stronger than they really were! Why did the tickles feel so strong?

“AAAHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLEHEHES!” Logan begged.

The brushes and feathers paused for a moment. One of the feathers turned the pen-like bottom to face Logan’s belly, and flew down. The feather started casually writing letters onto his belly! Logan giggled and snorted at this. It felt kinda sharp, but tickled enough to get him giggling again. “Hehehehehey!”

The feather stopped, moved itself to the left side of Logan’s belly, and started rewriting the letters all over again! Logan squeaked and was right back to giggling. “Dohohohon’t stahahart ahahagahain!” Logan begged.

The feather stopped writing...dragged itself to the left side and restarted the cursive. Logan groaned a little as the writing went back to the Y it started with. But instead of trying to protest this time, Logan tried to stay quiet and understand the letters that were relaying a message to him:

[Y-O-U-R - L-A-U-G-H - I-S - S-O - C-U-T-E] The feather wrote.

Logan’s face went bright red the moment he properly interpreted that.

The worst part was that the ghost just kept writing teases! Like:

[C-O-O-C-H-Y C-O-O-C-H-Y C-O-O],

[T-I-C-K-L-E T-I-C-K-L-E!]

and [G-I-G-G-L-Y S-U-S-A-N-N-A].

Meanwhile, Virgil was hugging his belly and laughing as his feet were attacked. A ghost was using a comb to tickle the bottom of his feet and telling by Virgil’s inability to pull away, one of the ghosts must’ve been holding onto his foot.

“NAHAHAT THE FEEHEHEHEHEET! IHIT TIHIHICKLEHEHES SOHOHO MUHUHUCH!” Virgil begged.

The ghost must’ve seen that Virgil needed something lighter, because the comb was soon set aside and replaced by an old fashioned feather duster. Yes...old fashioned, meaning it was made with real feathers at the end. Virgil squeaked at the look of it, and covered his mouth. Oh no! His squeak gave away the fact that he was nervous!

The feather duster ignored his squeak and moved closer and closer to Virgil’s foot. Virgl tried to tug, but it wouldn’t move away, and though it didn’t feel like anything, there was something invisible preventing him from pulling his foot away. Soon, the feather touched down and started wiggling all over the place as Virgil’s laughter and snorts filled the room.

The feather shook up and down as if the ghost was giggling at Virgil’s reaction. Then, Logan looked on as a soft-bristled brush from the early 1900’s moved closer and closer to his sides. Logan giggled just at the thought of the ticklish brush returning to his sides, and started wiggling around all over again. Was this really happening? Was Logan’s creepy expedition to a Victorian house really turning into being tickled and messed with by the spirits?! Why?? Why did the spirits wanna tickle him? Was it fun for them? Were they always this mischievous? If so, how has nobody found this out until now?!

Logan gasped as the brushes touched down on his belly and ribs. Logan squealed and started full out laughing this time! His ribs were much more sensitive to the softer bristles of the brush. It tickled so badly! It felt like a million bristles were tickling his rib bones all at once! And it didn’t help that both sides were being attacked! No matter how much he squirmed to get away, the bristles would just tickle more from his instinctive wiggling!

Logan looked over at Virgil, who was covering his face as the pointy side of a feather wrote teases on his belly. The feather duster had been placed aside for the moment so, he guessed, the ghost could tease him more. “Cohohome ohohon! Ihihihi’m nahahat thahahat cuhuhuhute!”

Yup! It wanted to tease him more. That last sentence confirmed it.

Logan giggled at his reaction. “Yehehess yohohou ahahare!”

Virgil squeaked. “LOHOHO SHUHUT UHUP!” Virgil shouted, uncovering his likely red face. It was hard to see if his face was actually red due to the lack of light, but Logan could easily assume that Virgil was blushing up a huge storm. It was really cute to listen to!

Virgil couldn’t take it anymore! He had to roll away to get away from them. “STAHAHAP, PLEHEHEASE!”

The feather stopped its feather and moved away. Virgil clutched his own stomach and rolled onto his side into the fetal position. He was such a flustered mess!

The ghost put the feather onto a nearby desk and moved over to a bookshelf. The ground was so covered in dust, that you could see dusty footprints with dust bits popping up while they walked! The ghost grabbed a big scrapbook and placed the scrapbook onto the kitchen table. Logan got up slowly and walked to Virgil. “Hey Virgil: they have photos.” Logan told him.

Virgil pushed himself up onto his feet and walked to the kitchen table. “Whoa...They really do.”

The scrapbook had many photos of a few adults. One of them was an adult with a light blue shirt on, that had 2 kids with him. “Whoa...Is this you?” Logan asked.

The ghost picked up a pair of glasses and showed them. Logan looked at the glasses, and replaced his own glasses with the ghost’s. They still had a bit of a prescription, but Logan’s prescription was much stronger compared to the ghost’s. “Huh...you were nearsighted.” Logan muttered. “He couldn’t see far away.” Logan added.

“Weird.” Virgil reacted. “And where are the kids?” Virgil asked.

The ghost handed out papers and used markers to write the names. “Twin #1” was on one paper, “Twin 2#” was on another, and “Dad” was on the last. Logan smiled bittersweetly. They were a family who had died within the house. But they stuck together even after their deaths.

“What are your names?” Logan asked as he changed back into his regular glasses.

The ghost grabbed the end of the marker and pointed to the scrapbook. Logan looked around, and didn’t see any indication of a name or three. But, Logan pulled out the photo and soon found the names on the back. “Easter 1940. Remus and Roman (twins) and Patton (Dad). Happy to be alive!” was written on the back of the scrapbook picture.

Logan looked at the ghosts and back at the scrapbook. But Logan quickly did a double take when he realized the ghosts had tickle tools in their hands again! One had the feather duster from earlier, one had two feathers, and the last one had the hairbrush and a paintbrush!

Uh oh! That’s not good!

Logan yelped and lifted Virgil’s jaw up. The moment Virgil saw the tools again, the emo practically sunk down in a flustered frenzy! Not this again! He was still flustered and blushy from the last time!

Logan couldn’t help but giggle nervously as the evil little tickle monster ghosts made their way closer and closer to Logan and Virgil. They actually didn’t mind being their ticklish entertainment! They often tickled each other out of brotherly love because they both knew each other liked it. Virgil loved melt spots along with being teased to oblivion, while Logan loved much softer tickles that drove him up the wall with hysterics!

Logan squeaked and covered his neck the moment he felt cold, ticklish finger flutters against it. It felt airy, but made enough of a feeling to tickle him! And it drove him NUTS! “NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” Logan begged.

The ghost just kept going in that one spot, as if it was the greatest ticklish spot in the whole universe! Logan’s voice was cackling, laughing and snorting. It could not choose what it really wanted.

Virgil was giggling as a hairbrush was brushing his belly and sides. Virgil was somewhat limited in his wiggling abilities, which made Logan wonder if one of the kids was sitting on top of him while tickling him. Whatever the kid was doing, it was working better than expected! “IHIHIT’S SOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAHAD! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEHEHEHEHEHE QUIHIHIHIT IHIHIHIHIT!” Virgil begged.

Logan squeaked and yelped as a paintbrush made its way to Logan’s belly button. OH NO...THAT’S A DEATH SPOT!

Logan’s wheeze filled the room for only a few minutes before his laughter went silent. The tickle monster ghost noticed the change in laughter, and lessened the tickles a bit. But it didn’t fully stop. “......aAHA! AAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHahahahahahaha! Ehehehehehehehehe- Thahahahank yohohohou.” Logan replied.

The feather moved back to Logan’s belly and started writing with the pokey side. [N-O P-R-O-B-L-E-M K-I-D-D-O]

Logan giggled at the nickname. Since when is he considered a ‘kiddo’? He’s never been the kiddo in the family! That’s always been Virgil.

Virgil smiled. “Patton...I like that.” Virgil admitted.

The feather moved to Virgil’s back and started writing more letters. [Y-O-U A-R-E M-Y S-O-N N-O-W]

Virgil bursted out laughing at the words written. “Whahahat? Since when?”

Logan tilted his head with a smile. “What did he say?”

Virgil looked at Logan. “He said I’m his new son.” Virgil said with a giggle.

Logan laughed. “We’re brothers! Does that mean I’m part of the invisible family now too?” Logan asked.

Logan watched as the feather wrote on his own back. [Y-E-S]

Logan gasped. “I have a ghost father now! And ghost brothers!” Logan declared.

Virgil laughed at this specific declaration. Looks like they’ve come out of this experience with an unofficial adoption into a centuries-old family of three.

Should I continue this AU? Or no? I don't really know yet.

#human sanders sides #ghost patton sanders #ghost roman sanders #ghost remus sanders #kid roman #kid remus #virgil and logan are siblings #sanders sides spirit family AU (by TrashySwitch)

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beelsnack · 4 years ago

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Hiya! I saw ur post about u being stressed at work so please take ur time with this request! There's no rush! Ur wellbeing is more important 💖 But when you get the time how about some headcanons for an MC who is very cute and naive but got teased for being so at RAD so they try to dress "cool" and pretend to be all badass but their tough persona just makes the demon brothers uwu even more cuz they think it's adorable how hard they're trying

Ah, thank you for being patient, Nonnie! I hope this was worth the wait!

I realized a bit too late that I may have misinterpreted your request a little, but I hope it turned out alright anyway. ^^

-----

Lucifer: “Careful, my dear, your face may get stuck like that.”

When the human turned around to greet him, they had their normal cheerful grin on their face. However, Lucifer watched as their expression turned surprised, then frustrated before they managed to school it back into the hilariously deep frown they had been forcing all day.

“Would you mind telling me why you’re making that ridiculous face?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” They fell into step beside him. Even though they had pretty much figured out the layout of RAD, Lucifer insisted on walking with them to the Student Council Chambers. At first, it was just to make sure they didn’t accidentally end up in the torture chambers in the lower levels, but now he genuinely enjoyed the few moments they had alone together. Hearing them chatter on about their day lifted his mood exponentially.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Lucifer inclined his head. “Force that scowl for much longer and you might pull a facial muscle.”

They wavered for a second before sighing. “Did it really look that bad?”

“It was quite an unnatural look for you.” he replied, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Would you mind telling me just what you were trying to do?”

“...Some demons in my class told me I smiled too much.” they admitted. “So I was trying to...not?”

Lucifer paused, regarding them with a raised eyebrow. “What in the Three Realms does ‘smiling too much’ mean?”

“I’m...not sure honestly,” they shrugged.

“My dear,” he stopped in front of them, placing his hands on their shoulders. “I don’t particularly care what those other demons think or want, but I will not have you depriving me of your beautiful smile.”

Mammon: That was his jacket.

It was way too big on them, making them look even smaller than they already did. It was also very clearly not part of the RAD uniform - not that any of the brothers wore their uniforms correctly, but the human was usually pretty up to code with theirs.

He caught up to them in a few steps and grabbed onto the collar of their - his - jacket. “Hey, human! Just what do you think you’re doing?”

They squeaked in surprise, and for a moment Mammon was caught off guard by how unbearably adorable it was. When they turned around, they were grinning sheepishly at him.

“H-hi Mammon.”

Oof. Honestly, he did not anticipate how seeing them wearing his clothes was going to affect him. The sleeves came down to their knuckles, and they had curled their fingers around the cuffs almost instinctively, It was too cute, he felt like his heart was trying to smash through his ribcage.

“You - you got a whole lotta nerve, stealing from the Great Mammon.” he released their collar, they both continued walking, although he had completely forgotten that his class was in the complete opposite direction.

“You left it in my room, though.”

“Doesn’t explain why you’re wearin’ it!”

“I’m sorry.” they sighed, beginning to shrug the jacket off of their shoulders. “Some demons were picking on me, so I thought they would leave me alone if I dressed a bit tougher. It didn’t work anyway, so I’ll give it back now.”

They were just about to yank their arms out of the sleeves when Mammon shook his head.

“Keep it, if it makes you feel better.” he definitely wasn’t blushing, nope, not even a little bit. “I’ve got others, so just accept the Great Mammon’s generosity.”

Leviathan: “Please tell me you didn’t pay a stupid amount of cash for those.”

The human frowned up at Levi, putting a hand over their new headphones almost protectively. “I paid a perfectly reasonable amount!”

“I wouldn’t pay anything for those,” he frowned. “The manufacturers would have to pay me, actually.”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” they huffed. “I just bought them so people would stop talking about me when they think I’m listening.”

Levi tilted his head. “Huh?”

The human sighed, playing idly with the cord of the headphones. “Some demons in my Curses class like to freak me out by saying how yummy I look when they catch my eye. I kind of hoped that they would stop if they weren’t getting a rise out of me.”

A white-hot surge of protectiveness crashed over him as the human curled in on themself. He might have been a giant otaku, but he would be damned if he let anything happen to his best friend. Well, more damned than he already was, anyway.

“You should have just said something,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have an old pair you can have. They still work fine, but they released a limited-edition Ruri-chan version and obviously I have to rep my waifu so I’ve been using those - “

Satan: “Can I ask you something?”

The two of them were on their way to the RAD’s library. Satan honestly didn’t need to study, but the human definitely did, and using an academic excuse meant that Lucifer was more likely to leave the two of them alone.

“Of course,” Satan held the door open for them. Without even bothering to look, he began walking over to the table that had basically become their territory. Even if there were other demons there, they would probably scamper off.

“How do you get people to be afraid of you?”

Satan paused, raising an eyebrow in an expression that definitely did not make him look strikingly like Lucifer. “Me specifically?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, being the Avatar of Wrath gives me a leg up.”

The human scowled. “Damn it.”

“Why would you want people to be afraid of you?” Satan asked as they sat down. Up until this point, the human’s modus operandi was being so sweet that nobody ever wanted to hurt them, so the threatening angle was a complete 180.

“Some demons in class were making comments about me being dessert.” they mumbled, taking out their textbooks before slinging their bag over the back of the chair. “I honestly couldn’t tell if they were talking about my personality or my flesh, so…”

“Okay, first of all,” Satan leaned forward on his elbows. “We kill them.”

“Satan, no.”

Asmodeus: “Oh, darling, what have you done to yourself?”

They really needed to get a “Do Not Disturb” sign or something. Not that it would stop anything, but still.

Asmo at least had the decency to shut the door behind him, but that was as far as it went. He was openly staring at them, doing his best impression of the Scream painting.

“The makeup tutorial made this look so much easier.” they sighed, leaning back in their chair.

“They always do,” Asmo came over behind them, placing his hands on their shoulders as he leaned down to look at their laptop screen. “Never trust the ones on Sinterest.”

Their final product looked nothing like the model on the screen. The wings of their eyeliner were crooked, and one eye was longer than the other. The contouring made them look like a clown, and somehow they had gotten black eyeshadow on their nose.

“That’s quite the change of pace for you, darling.” Asmo commented, “It’s a look, but why the sudden switch?”

The human remained silent, their bottom lip quivering in a way that made Asmo want to gathering them up in a blanket. Eventually, they sighed again.

“All the succubi look so cool, and I always look...” they paused. “Human.”

“Darling, I don’t know how to break this to you - “

“I know, I know.” they grumbled. “I just wanted to look badass for once!”

The puppy-dog pout they had going on wasn’t doing anything for that particular look, but Asmo decided to keep that comment to himself. Instead, he spun them around, hands still on their shoulders. “Now, now, don’t make that face. Let’s see if we can’t fix this up a little, hm?”

Beelzebub: “What are you doing?”

He hadn’t meant to scare them, but they jumped like he had jumped from the ceiling. The yelp they let out made him feel guilty. Maybe Mammon was right when he said that Beel was disturbingly sneaky for someone his size.

Usually the gym was empty when he came for his morning workout, so seeing the human seated on the workout bench was a definite surprise. Not a bad one though.

“Beel!” the set the weight down. “Um…g-good morning…?”

“Morning,” he replied, making his way over to where they were situated. “You’re not usually one to workout, much less this early in the morning.”

“I, uh…” they stammered. “I wanted to get a little stronger, is all.”

“Not that I’m going to stop you,” he set his gym bag down next to the weight rack. “But why?”

They grumbled under their breath, but eventually sighed. “Some demons at RAD told me I looked chewy.”

“I mean, you kind of do.”

“Hey!”

“All humans look chewy, though.” he shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing. But you want to build up some muscle, right?”

They pouted, and Beel really wanted to reach out and pat them on the head. Instead, he sat next to them on the bench and handed them the weight they had been using.

“Okay, so you want to hold it like this…”

Belphegor: “You had a funny dream last night.”

They had learned from experience that telling Belphie to stop invading their privacy by watching their dreams did exactly fuck all, so they just huffed in annoyance as he flopped against their shoulder. “It wasn’t funny.”

“Amusing, then.”

“For you, maybe.”

They felt him smirk against their shoulder. “You really think a leather jacket and sunglasses will make demons think you’re tough?”

“More than skipping around with flowers in my hair would.”

“I think you would look cute with flowers in your hair. Let’s take some black roses from Diavolo’s garden.”

“Aren’t those poisonous?”

Belphie shifted, nuzzling into their neck as the professor walked in. “It’ll help with the tough image.”

“For about 4 hours until I start foaming at the mouth.” they folded their arms, jostling Belphie from their shoulder.

The demon laughed, pillowing his head in his arms as he leaned forward onto the desk. “I like how you are now. If someone starts giving you trouble, I’ll kill them for you.”

“No cannibalism, please.”

“That’s more Beel’s territory.”

#shall we date obey me #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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sonnetthebard · 3 years ago

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You know that headcanon about Crispin getting into fights by accident? And his worst one being with Vern at a wedding? Could you maybe please write a fic about that? And maybe throw some Crispin x Odie in there if possible? Thank you!

Oh lord, here we go-

Genre: Fluff/ Angst/ Comedy/ Romance Words: 2283 TL;DR: Crispin really, REALLY should start talking when people want to fight him. TW: Fighting, swearing, drunkeness

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Crispin bit his lip, sitting silently during the wedding reception. He didn't like weddings. He actually didn't like big events at all. Too many people. It made him anxious. But... this was Vern's sister and Mary Jo's brother's wedding. Not that he was friends of either of those people (he didn't even know their names, and that should say a lot considering the size of the town they were in). But he was Ellis' cousin and Vern was his friend, so he had to be there. Plus Odie loved weddings, and he would walk to the ends of the earth for that man. so... here he was. At a wedding reception. The last place in the world he'd want to be on a Wednesday evening. Vern had even done him a 'favour'. He'd made a little 'boys' table with all the people he knew Crispin considered to be friends. It was him, Vern, Ellis, Donny, Odie, Desmond, Aubrey and Sybilus. Apparently Ellis had insisted Vern talk to his sister about it because he 'didn't want his little cousin getting lonely'. Little did Ellis know that Crispin would really rather be alone right now.

It was a good party. And the food was good- especially since he didn't have to pay for it. Vern had made sure they had the best cuts of meat for the dinner, and god was it delicious. Like, the beef option was this melt-in-your-mouth prime rib and it was perfectly cooked. It was almost enough to make Crispin not regret that he'd come to the wedding. But on the downside... everything was so, so loud. Everyone was talking, which meant that naturally everyone was talking over each other. And everything just got louder and louder. It gave Crispin a headache. There was a reason Crispin didn't speak, and it was because he liked the quiet. He liked to be able to hear the voices in his head and think clearly. And words... they complicated things. Especially love. Crispin had seen love go wrong so many times because of words that hadn't been thought out properly. At least with signing you really had to think out what you were going to say. Odie and Crispin did just fine without verbal communication, thank you very much. He wished the rest of the world give it a try.

Crispin had sort of zoned out of the conversation. After all, with so many voices coming at him from every direction... it was hard to follow one set. He just looked around the room, taking everything in. he had to admit, the little tent they'd set up for the reception was lovely. It was pristine white. And inside, Ellis and Mary Jo had decorated it with some gorgeous flower arrangements. Nothing too overwhelming in scent though. And the music... their DJ was good. The whole ambience of the wedding was lovely, save for the voices. Now, if you could just funnel all that noise out and get Crispin a book... things would be great. Yeah. He could go for a book. And another one of those prime ribs. That was good. He hoped the cake was that good. So many wedding cakes just tasted like soap. He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by a rather sharp nudge from someone. Crispin blinked, snapping his head to see who it was. It was Odie.

"What're you giving me that look for?" Vern glared at Crispin. Crispin blinked in shock again. Was his face doing that thing again?

"I'm sure he didn't mean to give you any look, Vern... Right, Crispin?" Odie prompted. Crispin nodded, genuinely confused and a little scared. What had he missed?

"No, he did this sassy little eye-roll thing!" Vern insisted. Oh shit, had he? He knew he did that when he was thinking sometimes. "You didn't think my little sister looked good, did you?"

"N-n-n-now Vern... let's not be r-rash..." Sybilus tried to soothe him.

"What was wrong with how my sister looked on her wedding day, Crispin?" Vern asked. He took a look at Vern's place. Ah. He'd gotten some beer. How much had Vern had to drink already? Because depending on how drunnk he was... this could be very bad for Crispin. He frantically signed at Odie, Donny and Ellis.

'I wasn't even listening! I zoned out thinking about how nice this place would be to read in!' Crispin signed.

"You should really stop doing that." Odie advised him. "It never ends well."

'I know...' Crispin signed. 'Just... the whole ambience is great in here except for the voices. I can't help it that I just want to curl up with a book.'

"Well thank god." Ellis sighed in relief, relishing in the drama of it all. "Vern, he-"

"No. No, I want to hear him fucking say it." Vern almost growled. Crispin went pale. No, he didn't want to speak.

"Language!" Desmond chided.

"Vern, you know he doesn't do that!" Donny rolled his eyes.

"I want to fucking hear it from him!" Vern demanded, standing up. He grabbed Crispin by the collar of his shirt. Crispin gulped nervously. God, Vern was so much bigger than him. "What the fuck was wrong with my sister, you little shit?"

"Vern... I think it would be best if you set him down..." Aubrey attempted to soothe. Crispin gave a pleading look to Ellis, knowing that as a relative of the groom maybe he'd be able to talk Vern down.

"Vern, Crispin doesn't speak. And I know he didn't mean to insult your little sister." Ellis stated. "He was lost in his thoughts."

"Fucking creep... were you thinking about the bride on her fucking wedding day?" Vern spat, his words just a little slurred. Shit. Oh, he was drunk. Crispin was fucked.

"Vern... Vern, what's going on?" The bride asked, scared.

"This little shit wants to get in your pants!" Vern glared at Crispin.

"No... no, Vern, he wasn't thinking of her!" Ellis cut in. He liked drama, but he wasn't going to ruin any marriages. "He was thinking about how nice it would be to read in here."

"You fucking expect me to believe that?" Vern rolled his eyes.

"Vern, it's true." Odie insisted.

"Maybe it's what he's saying to you, but that doesn't make it the truth!" Vern growled. No, no one was going to talk Vern down at this poin.

"Vern, think about who we're talking about for a minute. This is Crispin. He doesn't have it in him to insult anyone." Odie pointed out.

"Well..." Donny countered. Odie mouthed a 'not helping' to him.

"Not to their face." Vern grumbled, eyes trained on Crispin. Crispin hated this. But... he couldn't find his voice. At this point, if he could he would.

"Listen, Vern, there's like... literally nothing to insult." Donny shrugged. "I mean, sure, the whole look was a little... old."

"Is that what you called my little sister with your fancy little hand dancing? Did you call her old?" Vern glared at Crispin. Crispin shook his head.

"Old can be beautiful." Aubrey tried. "That's why we study history. There's a lot of beauty in the past."

"Vernie, I was going for a historic wedding." The bride told him. "That was a compliment!"

"Stop trying to fucking vouch for him!" Vern snapped at everyone.

"Vern, enough!" Desmond demanded. "Put Crispin down!"

"No!" Vern shook his head. He focused on Crispin again. "You little shit... no one gets to insult my little sister."

And with that, Vern threw the first punch. It his square in the jaw. Crispin yelped, and everyone gasped. Ellis looked absolutely scandalized- which was a fact Crispin wasn't entirely sure why he'd noticed but he was a bit out of it. His brain was focusing on a lot of weird things. Like how weird Dr. Edwards' laugh was. He was snapped back again when Vern threw another punch. Crispin tried to block it... to no avail. He dodged a third punch. Then Crispin was slammed onto the table... and that was all that Crispin could really remember clearly. He remembered he'd started fighting back in self defense. he hated to, and it hadn't done much good, but... he had to do something. He remembered everyone- including the bride- begging Vern to stop. But... Vern was pissed. Like, drunk and very angry. He was an angry drunk to begin with. It was just Crispin who had gotten his anger that night. He should've known better than to drink at his sister's wedding.

Anyways, they fought until he literally knocked Crispin out. Crispin remembered waking up very briefly in Dr. Edwards' office, but it was late and he was tired so he just went back to sleep. The next day when he woke (still in Dr. Edwards' office) Odie was sitting on the bed beside him and dabbing at something on his face. Or maybe he was cleaning it. God, his face was so tender. Were those stitches? Shit, how bad had things gotten? Crispin groaned quietly. He didn't like this. He had a massive headache- and he hadn't even had a drop of alcohol. It seemed Vern had had enough for the both of them. He'd kind of hoped that the night before had been a nightmare. But here he was. His jaw was killing him... which meant Dr. Edwards probably hadn't given him any pain meds. Odie smiled softly, being a bit gentler.

"Hey, Cris." Odie sighed. "Sorry about last night... we tried. But... I guess the groom got Vern's favourite beer in for the wedding. We didn't really think anything of it until... well, you know what happened."

'Did I win?' Crispin tried to sign. But his right arm was really sore.

"No... no you did not." Odie chuckled softly. "Hey, don't sign if you don't need to. You bent your wrist back trying to punch Vern last night."

'O-H G-O-D (Oh God)' Crispin fingerspelled, before starting to laugh. 'I A-M S-U-C-H A W-I-M-P (I am such a wimp)'

"No, Crispy... you're just a bit smaller than Vern." Odie chuckled along with him. He cupped Crispin's face gently, dabbing a few final tiems above Crispin's eyebrow. "You just lay back and relax. I'm going to take care of you."

"Is he in here?" A voice called in. Crispin tried to sit up and found that he was very sore. That made sense. Vern had kicked the shit out of him. He laid back down. Now he understood what Odie had meant when he said he should lay back and relax. Odie turned his head, sighing before letting go of Crispin and standing up.

"Yeah, he's here." Odie sighed. "Cris, it's Vern."

"Hey..." Vern bit his lip. he came and sat on the bed. Crispin immediately tensed, still a bit scared. "Hey... I am so sorry for this."

'It's okay.' Crispin tried to sign.

"He says it's okay." Odie translated.

"I took it way too far... man, I was so drunk... and my hangover is terrible." Vern sighed. "But like... I'm guessing it's nothing compared to what you're going through. God, I am so sorry..."

"It's fine." Crispin sighed. "Really."

"Hey, you don't have to do that." Vern told him. "I was so out of line, asking you to talk... and assuming that you thought my sister was ugly... man, I was a total idiot."

"Well, that's what too much alcohol will do." Odie chided.

"Yeah..." Vern agreed. "Listen, I just wanted to be sure you're okay... I know I can get really intense when I'm fighting."

"It'll take him time to recover, but... he'll be fine." Dr. Edwards slurred from where he was slumped over in the corner.

"Good." Vern sighed in relief, looking over Crispin again. "When you're feeling better, you come by the butcher shop. I'll give you anything you want."

'You don't need to.' Crispin signed.

"He says you don't need to." Odie translated.

"Yeah I do." Vern chuckled. "Just take it, okay bud?"

'Fine.' Crispin signed.

"He gave in." Odie told Vern.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask... last night got me thinking... would one of you mind teaching me how to talk with the hand thing?" Vern asked.

"I can show you how to sign." Odie nodded. "Ellis, Donny, Rita and Sybilus also sign if you ever need help."

‘S-Y-B-I-L-U-S signs?’ Crispin blinked.

“Yeah! He went nonverbal for a while when he was younger, remember?” Odie smirked. He looked back at Vern. “Anyways... any of us would be happy to teach you. Just ask, any time.”

"Thanks." Vern smiled softly. He got up, heading for the door. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. Feel better soon, Crispin. I am so sorry."

'It's okay.' Crispin chuckled.

"He says it's okay." Odie smiled.

"Okay, bud, you're coming with me." Vern sighed, scooping up a somehow already drunk Dr. Edwards.

"But I'm gonna miss the good part!" Dr. Edwards whined. "Wanna stay until they kiss!"

"Not happening." Vern rolled his eyes, smirking. he called back to Odie and Crispin as he left. "Bye guys!"

Crispin waved.

"Well that was nice of him." Odie smirked. climbing to lay next to . "I like Vern."

'M-E T-O-O W-H-E-N H-E-S S-O-B-E-R (Me too when he's sober).' Crispin teased, fingerspelling so he could rest his arm.

"Which is most of the time." Odie chided teasingly.

'Y-E-A-H. (Yeah)' Crispin chuckled. He sighed. "Thanks for doing this."

"Well... you're a lot of trouble, but you're cute... which kind of makes up for it." Odie teased. "So I guess I don't mind so much."

'Y-O-U K-N-O-W Y-O-U L-O-V-E M-E (You know you love me)' Crispin rolled his eyes, grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah. I do." Odie shrugged, equally as teasing. He leaned in and gently kissed Crispin, who blushed. "Maybe it's a good thing that we're teaching him how to sign so that this doesn't happen again."

Crispin couldn't have said it better himself.

#wayward guide #crispin lynch #odie doty #wayward guide for the untrained eye #vern marrow #tin can bros #tcb #tcb fanfic #oneshot #fanfiction #send more prompts!#tw: fighting #tw: swearing #tw: drunk

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shy-marker-pliers · 4 years ago

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finally doing The Writing again, boys

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tattoo/florist AU made by my pal @lamiasluck check her blog out if u haven't already :3

Warnings: dangerous amounts of wholesome

The day began like any other, with Host snorting and jolting awake, startled by his alarm. he stretched with a hum before tossing his covers off of himself and feeling around his nightstand for his glasses. once he had them on and could actually see, he trudged out of bed and over to his dresser to grab his clothes for the day. after a quick shower and hair brushing, host donned his floral collared shirt and cardigan. and then he began the walk to work.

the walk in question was just a quick trip down the stairs. his apartment was right above his plant shop, after all. before opening, he made sure all of the potted plants were adequately watered and misted, trimmed the tiny bonsai trees by the door, and snipped off any dead leaves. it was feeding day for the venus flytraps too, so he gave them their dried mealworms. then he walked over to the door, switched on the light-up 'open' sign, and waited.

host's little shop definitely wasn't the most popular in the city, but it made more than enough to keep him and his plants comfortable. what more could a man ask for, honestly? the day started out normally, with a few customers stopping by for bouquets to bring to early morning coffee shop dates. occasionally, a parent would come in with their child to look around for a while and maybe buy some seeds. third shift workers on their way home stopped buy for something here and there.

it was at noon, however, that the day began to get interesting. host became aware of the two large vans across the street when he heard the telltale 'thunk' of a ramp and the dragging of several heavy objects. with no one in the store, host figured he could watch for a bit.

he couldn't quite tell what the new business was yet, as most of the objects were on boxes. occasionally a couple of movers would carry an upholstered chair, stool, or a small table into the building. two men, not in moving company uniforms, darted around like hummingbirds making sure everything was going alright. host was too far away to make out too much, what with his eyesight and all, but he did see someone rolling in what looked to be an adjustable reclining chair. he tilted his head, ever more intrigued.

he sighed and turned back to the shop, deciding that he should get back to the front desk. he'd spy on the neighbors more later.

after helping a frazzled teenager try and find flowers for their mother's birthday and assisting a sweet and polite older lady in selecting some nice lilac bushes for her garden, it was almost closing time. so, host locked the register and began the rounds to check his inventory. florist shops are just cesspools of theft, after all. once he had everything accounted for, he went to turn off his sign.

as he emerged from the isles to do just that, the little bell over his door rang. glancing up, he saw two figures enter his shop. from what he could tell, they were the same men from across the street that he'd been watching so intently earlier that day.

the first, standing in front of the other wore a pastel yellow sweater and ripped jeans. he had what appeared to be a tattoo of a pixelized heart on his wrist. the wore a happy and curious expression on his face.

the second looked much more timid. he was shorter in stature and had a yellow scarf tied around his neck, along with a simple black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up. like host, he wore big round glasses. his hair was a mess, and host couldn't help but notice the tiny freckles on his cheeks and nose.

uh. what was he doing again..? right, right. they're customers, gotta greet the customers.

"Er- Hello. welcome to the hidden garden plant shop. is there anything in particular you're looking for today?"

yellow spoke up. "Hi! um, not really, no. we really just came over to say hi. we saw your shop from across the street, so we thought we'd pop in. it's good to meet neighbors. oh goodness, where are my manners- My name's oliver, and this-“ he tilted his head backwards in the direction of the other man, “-is my boyfriend, eric.”

not a peep from eric. just a small wave as he kept his eyes glued to the floor.

“we just moved here to start our own tattoo and piercing place. we were with a bigger brand before, but we wanted to make our own hours, be able to decorate and do business how we want, that kind of stuff.”

this...was not what the host imagined the owners of a tattoo parlor to look like. not that he was complaining. better these two than some big scary guys who would drive away his customers.

“well, i’m the host. it’s nice to meet you both. my story isn’t quite as interesting as yours, i’m afraid. i started this business about five years ago because of my love for plants, and that’s pretty much all there is to it.” he shrugged.

Eric tugged at oliver’s sleeve and gestured to the piece of paper advertising the store’s hours. he had apparently noticed that it was about five minutes past closing time.

“oh! sorry, i didn’t mean to keep you for so long. but we’re closed on sundays, so maybe we’ll see you then?” oliver said with an adorably crooked smile.

“Uh..y-yeah, alright. but first...” host spun on his heel and quickly grabbed two small succulent plants off of a shelf, holding them out. “here. consider it a housewarming present. they don’t need to be waters much and look great on little tables or desks.

oliver beamed as he took the two small pots and handed one to eric, who now had a tiny smile as well as he looked at the plant like he had just been handed a puppy.

“Wow- um, thanks..!” he said with a quick glance up.

a couple of polite goodbyes and the two were headed out. but just before the door closed, host heard eric speak.

“I’m gonna name mine charlie. how ‘bout you, ollie?”

host had decided. he liked these two.

(ok thx for reading i literally cranked this out in an hour so if it’s bad no it isn’t.)

#markiplier #markiplier egos #eric derekson #google yellow #google oliver #the host #hostiplier #long post #fic #my writing

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dyde21 · 4 years ago

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Learning - 1

Also available on AO3 HERE

Summary:

Peter Parker has a lot on his plate. Too much. He's also just so damn tired all the time. But people are counting on him. Counting on Spider-man. So he can't afford to slow down. He just has to keep moving forward.

Until everything falls apart because of a pancake.

Luckily there are people there to help pick up the pieces.

Peter learns how to accept help and how to grow.

XxXxXxXxX

Peter Parker was pretty sure his biggest enemy was Spider-man. Spider-man meant the world to him, and he really wasn’t sure he’d ever find himself in a place to give up the mantle. Maybe if he found someone to take over for him, or if the city didn’t need him anymore, he could afford to slow down.

But as he grew into a young adult, he knew that it wasn’t a possibility for him anytime soon. His mind and body yearned to be out there when he had gone too long without saving someone. He could just imagine the scenes of the people he didn’t save when he wasn’t out there. The lives lost or ruined because he was not out there.

As much as he knew he had to be Spider-man, there was still a part of him that yearned to be a normal college student. Someone who could have weekend movie nights with his friends after long hours doing homework together. Someone who could drop by his aunt’s place and cook dinner with her to catch up after a busy week. Someone who could plan a date night weeks in advance and know for sure that he wouldn’t miss it or bail early. But he had resigned himself to the fact that he couldn’t have that.

He hated how much he hurt others. He hated the disappointed, yet understanding looks his friends gave him everytime he had to leave early or show up late. He hated how he had lately stopped making promises because he longer believed he could keep them. So he had to make it up to them. He tried desperately to prove how much he cared about them every chance he got. Little gifts, reminders of conversations, jumping at the chance to do anything in the moment while he was at their side. He dreaded the day they realized he wasn’t worth all the trouble, he knew it had to be coming soon. But he could feel his life falling apart at the seams.

But Spider-man wouldn’t. Spider-man wouldn’t disappoint the city. Even when they hated them, he’d still be out there protecting it. Because people needed Spider-man. People needed Peter. He had to live up to those responsibilities.

However Peter felt so tired. He could feel himself running on fumes, but he’d manage. He always did. He always had to.

Until suddenly he couldn’t. Until Peter broke.

It hadn’t even been a dramatic fight with someone like the Rhino. It hadn’t been an explosive alien bomb he couldn’t deal with. It had been a pancake.

Midterms sucked for everyone. Normal students and superhero students alike, they just sucked. A week of projects and tests and papers that were all due around the same time. It was a cruel seasonal rite of passage. Unfortunately combining that with having missed almost the maximum number of classes allowed in the term already, Peter was behind. But that wasn’t anything new.

But the same old problem was still a problem. Which meant that was how Peter found himself on Saturday morning stopping by the corner store and grabbing a six pack of energy drinks, a couple of cups of noodles, and some chocolate for comfort’s sake.

He had a long weekend ahead of him, and he knew he just had to get through it. Maybe he could take it a little easier. Pausing before the counter, he had walked back and grabbed a couple of bags of Ned’s favorite sour worms. He knew Ned liked to snack on them when he got stressed and he knew there was a coding midterm Ned had been stressing about all week.

After he paid, he made sure to take the long way around and stopped by MJ’s favorite tea place. Filling up a thermos, he had also splurged to get her a few boxes of the teas they imported there from fairly traded farmers abroad. MJ had done research into the brand and found they were providing a good opportunity, and she liked the tea so it had been a win-win. Sure it had cost him a bit more, but he figured he could just cut back on his meals for a week, no biggie. The protein bars Bruce had made for him ensured he got the vitamins he needed, so he figured it’d be fine.

Swinging by MJ’s place, he felt a small surge of energy in his otherwise exhausted body. He loved seeing her, and he knew she tended to isolate herself when going into heavy work mode, so their interaction would be brief but if he could make her smile it would be worth it. He knew things were still a little tense after he had been forced to bail on their anniversary dinner because Rhino had decided to go on a rampage to ruin his love life. He really, really wanted to stay. He had even promised himself he wouldn’t let normal crime alerts stop him, but the Rhino was more than the police could handle. One masked crazy required another. He had even been trying to force himself to stay when she had grabbed his hand, and with that same sad smile told him to go.

Making his way up to her small studio apartment she shared with Gwen, he had knocked on their door, shifting from place to place. Should he have grabbed flowers? Maybe that would be too much. Also too expensive. Should he have picked some? He knew MJ liked to complain about cliches like that, but also knew she liked them more than she would admit, considering he had seen the handmade card he had crafted her on valentine's day at Pepper’s advice was still on her desk months later. Shoul-

He was cut off from his internal rambling by the door being opened up. An exhausted, weary looking MJ stared at him, in open confusion. Normally she’d be better about putting on some sort of mask, but he could tell she was pretty tired too. She was dressed in sweats and one of his hoodies she had stolen when she came over the night before their anniversary.

A range of emotions crossed her face. Surprised. Guarded. Frustrated. Concerned. Happy.

“Hi.” She said simply after a moment, clearly waiting for him to say something.

“U-uh hi. Yeah. I just…” He realized he really should have thought of what he wanted to say before showing up.

MJ raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “I’m kinda busy.” She said, before she winced. He had a feeling she was still a little hurt about their date, but also hadn’t meant to sound so cold to him. He couldn’t blame her. He deserved it.

“Right! I know.” He cleared his throat. “I know. I promise I’m not here to bother you. I just… here.” He said, handing her the thermos. She took it, surprised before she took a sip and a smile crossed her features. Peter’s heart melted a little at it. He also shoved the two boxes of her favorite tea into her arms. “Also these. And an apology. I’m really sorry. I know I say that a lot. And it sucks. But I am.” He said, his eyes drifting to the floor. He hated how familiar this felt.

“I know.” MJ said softly, before he saw her feet step forward, and he felt her tip his chin up as she kissed him gently.

Peter returned it for a moment before he stepped back. “I know you have work so I won’t distract you. I just… wanted to give you a little care package, and say I know you’ll rock this. I can proofread your article if you need me to too. Or just to get an opinion.”

MJ’s expression softened again. “Thanks, Tiger.” She said, a soft smile. Then her brow furrowed. “Are you okay though?” She said, reaching out to grab his jaw and turn it as she inspected him. “Have you been eating? Sleeping? You look like shit.” She said bluntly, but not uncaringly.

“Oh, ouch.” He said with mock affront. MJ just rolled her eyes, knowing he knew what she meant. “Midterms.” Peter brushed off her concerns with a shrug. “Happens to us all. I mean you always look beautiful. But you also look a little less beautiful. Only stunningly gorgeous today.” He offered a small smirk on his face.

MJ rolled her eyes again, shoving his shoulder weakly. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to make myself look nice hoping you’d drop by unannounced.” She replied in a dry tone. “But Gwen and I are making sure we take care of each other. You’re still living alone since Ned moved in with Betty. I’m worried.” She confessed.

Peter offered her what he hoped was a reassuringly and not as fake looking as it felt smile. “I’ll be fine. Just gotta get a lot done this weekend. Then I’ll rest next week sometime. Maybe we can have a night in, no suit, no alerts.” He offered.

MJ looked at him skeptically, like she knew that was an offer that probably couldn’t be kept. But she must have also seen how desperately he was hoping for her to say yes. Some little hope to hold onto to get through the weekend. She nodded.

“Yeah. Sounds nice. I’d like that.” She affirmed, leaning in for another quick kiss. She paused, pulling out the collar of his sweater. “Pete, you need to eat. You’re losing weight again.” She warned, seeing how pronounced his collarbones were starting to be again.

He stepped back, pulling it back. “I will! I bought stuff today.” He didn’t mention it had been energy drinks, sugar, and salt pretty much but he didn’t need to worry her anymore. “I can’t wait to read your article. You better send it to me!” He said as he started down the hallway before he could drag any more of MJ’s attention away from her work with concern for him. He didn’t need it. He’d be fine.

MJ just watched him leave, sipping her drink for a moment before she let her head slump against the doorframe with a sigh. A bad feeling welling up in her stomach.

Peter’s next stop had been over to Ned’s place.

When he knocked at the door, he figured MJ must have texted him because Ned didn’t seem surprised in the least.

“Hey Peter, come in for a sec.” He said, practically dragging him into the apartment. Peter was surprised by that, having planned to just make the drop and leave, but he was herded over to a stool at the counter and forced to sit on it as he fished out the gummies to give to Ned.

“Here man, I know you still have to finish up the code then work out the bugs in it. I brought you emergency rations.”

Ned gave him a quick side hug, taking them. “Thanks. Now eat.” He ordered as he deposited the gift as his computer.

Peter was confused until a sandwich slid in front of him, along with a drink and a cookie. He looked up, seeing Betty looking at him with an expectant look. It reminded him of MJ. He had a feeling they had been hanging out a lot more recently.

“I’m fine.” He offered weakly, feeling bad they were taking time to take care of him.

Ned crossed his arms, giving him a thoroughly unimpressed look he had honed over years of dealing with Peter’s bullshit. “Dude, you look even more barebones than usual, don’t think a baggy sweater hides that. MJ said you are doing your gift rounds too which means you’re stressed out because you picked that up from Tony too.” Ned laid out, honest. “Eat the damn sandwich.”

Betty was side-eyeing Ned like she didn’t agree that the best way to get Peter to eat was to snap at him, but Peter just sighed and took a bite of the sandwich. It tasted so good he wanted to cry. He almost did, but he busied himself with taking a bite of the cookie before he could lose his shit over a sandwich someone made for him and start up a whole new series of conversations he wasn’t ready for.

He devoured the sandwich probably too quickly because Betty looked like she was about to make another one just to keep him eating. But he forced himself to stand up. “Thank you. Really. I needed that.” He confessed. “But we both have work so I should get back.”

“It’s fine if you want to relax here for a moment.” Betty offered with a gentle smile.

Peter’s throat felt tight at the nice offer but shook his head. “N-no. I’m fine. Both of you have work to do too. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Pete…” Ned started but Peter just fist bumped him and left, laughing a bit too hysterically for it to seem natural.

“I’ll be fine man! We’ll catch up next week.” He promised as he quickly made his way out of the apartment. He felt like he was about to start crying for too many different reasons and wanted to be alone for it.

He heard them still calling after him as the door closed and he practically rushed down the hall. He just had to get home. He could be alone in his home.

By the time he got home, Peter had managed to get himself in control. AKA, shoving all his annoying emotions and impending breakdowns deep within him to deal with at a later time. He had studying to do now, he didn’t have time for pesky things like proper emotions.

Pulling out the first energy drink, Peter just leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. He’d be fine. He just had to get through this weekend and he could afford a little rest. He made a point not to think of how he had made that promise the previous weekend as well.

Pulling out his phone, he found the photo he was looking for and smiled for a moment. It was a selfie of him and MJ. MJ was standing in the suit after she had wanted to try it on one night, and he was kissing her cheek as she was mid laugh. He could do it for her.

Moving over to his small kitchen table, he cleared everything off it by piling it onto the counter haphazardly and set up his laptop and books. He glanced over at the stacks of dirty dishes with a frown. He had gotten a lot worse at keeping them clean since Ned moved out. Looking around, he saw the entire place had kind of gone to shit since Ned moved out. Stuff piled up everywhere, too much dirty laundry, a bag of trash he hadn’t taken out yet tied in the corner.

Normally he went over to MJ’s place since Gwen had done a good job with the interior design of it and it was spacious and well organized. He did his best to hide how bad his place looked, too ashamed.

Pushing down more thoughts of how much of a disappointment he was for failing to keep his apartment together he sat down at the computer as he took another sip of his energy drink. He just had to get through this.

Pulling up his assignments he began to try and organize them. Working was something he could do. Solving problems was something he was good at.

A few hours passed and Peter had actually managed to make quite a bit of progress on his assignments. Which was good. Figuring he needed a break, he got up and moved over to the ramen. His stomach was angry now, and wanted a proper meal but he didn’t exactly have enough money at the moment to splurge. He was tempted to swing by the Avenger’s tower to grab a meal there, but he knew they might get on his case if they saw him looking this rundown. Turning on the electric kettle, he turned on some music to listen to it while he waited, closing his eyes to take a moment to relax.

It was a playlist MJ had made for him, and he knew all the songs by heart now, including the order of them. It helped him relax. Singing along softly, he waited for the kettle to click off as he poured it into the cup of noodle, pleased his hands weren’t shaking. Going into the drawer, he paused as he saw he had no clean forks. Of course he didn’t, cause he was a fucking mess.

He bit his lip, hating that a tear escaped his eyes as he trudged ever to the sink and quickly washed one as he blinked away the burning sensation in his eyes. This was dumb. It was just a fork. He just had to do the dishes. Eventually.

Finally cleaning the fork, he set it on top of the cup as it heated up the noodles and just slumped into his seat, letting his head fall against the table. He was just so tired. He had time to kill until the noodles were cooked enough so he could close his eyes for a minute…

Peter stared in horror as MJ struggled to pry herself from the metal gauntlet wrapped around her neck. Her feet dangled helplessly over the edge.

“Pe… peter. Help.” She choked out.

“LET HER GO.” Peter tried to scream out but no words would escape him. Iron Man’s cold eyes stared at him.

“You were a mistake.” He said in an emotional robotic voice as the hand opened up.

Peter ran towards her, but as he stepped the suit around him dissolved, leaving him in his old homemade suit, and none of his tools. Desperate anyway, he jumped off the edge, trying to dive for MJ but she was falling too fast for him. He couldn’t make it in ti-

Peter woke with a start, knocking one of his textbooks off the table as he looked around. It was darker. With a groan, he checked the clock. 3 hours had passed. Great. Guess that would be enough sleep for the night. Glancing at his phone he saw some messages from MJ and Ned but he really couldn’t bring himself to respond to them at the moment.

Wiping sleep from his eyes, he hated how he had slept for three hours he didn’t plan to, but still felt exhausted. Nightmares sucked.

Walking over to his noodles, he peeled off the lid and stared down at them. They were super soggy now. Peter was pretty sure he’d be more disappointed if he had the energy to be. Instead he just moved back over to the table, and flipped open his textbook to the section he had to go over again for the test because he had missed that class after a big fight and getting too injured to go in for it.

He slowly ate his soggy noodles as he stared at the same passage, reading it a few times but not really absorbing it. By the time he had actually managed to process all the content on the page, he felt his fork scraping against the bottom of the now empty cup. Great.

Setting it down on the table he just leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. Where was his life even going now? Why the hell was MJ even with him?

He checked his messages finally, both of his friends checking on him. He sent them a generic assurance before he sighed. Forcing himself to his feet, he figured he needed to make himself useful. He quickly changed into his suit as he saw the sun starting to set outside. He knew he couldn’t afford to spend too much time out as Spider-man tonight, and probably none tomorrow so he figured he would make it count while he could.

As he warmed up and swung through the city, for the briefest moment it felt like he was able to forget his problems. Like his real life was hidden away back in his nest of an apartment, and out here he was just Spider-man. The hero with no obligations, able to save people and bring a smile to those who didn’t despite him.

The rush was almost enough for him to avoid the bone deep exhaustion creeping through his body. He managed to stop a few robberies, a carjacking, and helped a drunk person find their way home without much issue. It helped his mood a bit, feeling useful. Feeling like he was actually able to take control of things and do some good.

What didn’t feel good though was seeing Rhino rampaging down the street. His shoulders slumped, he was not in the mood to deal with him today. He still had homework.

Swinging down, he caught a car that had been knocked to the side, and set it down with a grunt of effort. Normally he didn’t have that much trouble lifting one, so that was probably a troubling sign. Still, he swung after the large man.

“Didn’t I put you away like last week? Where are they even sending you, juvie?” He complained as he dodged a few punches from the overzealous russian.

“No cage can hold the Rhino!” He called out in return, making Peter sigh.

“Apparently.” He muttered as he launched himself towards him, slamming his fist into Rhino’s chest with enough force to send him toppling backwards. His hand was sore now, but he really wanted to end this quickly and he knew Rhino was tough enough for him to be a little less gentle.

The Rhino got back up and threw a car at him. Peter managed to catch it, but it left him in an awkward position as the Rhino charged through it, sending him flying into the wall of a nearby hotel. He gasped in pain, and barely had the reflexes to shoot his hands out and catch Rhino’s horn before it impaled him into the building. Slamming a kick into the Rhino’s jaw, he dazed him enough to push off of him and get some distance between them.

“I think I’m sending you to the zoo next. I hear they love to take in hopeless cases.” Some part of Peter wondered if he qualified for that.

“The only place I will be going is to your funeral, Spider-man!” Alexios roared out as he charged forward.

Peter just managed to dodge to the side and hook a web onto one of his legs, pulling it into the other one as the man fell over.

“Aw, you’d attend my funeral? You do care!” He praised as he launched himself up, before twipping two webs on either side of the Rhino and pulled himself down, slamming his knee into the back of the Rhino’s head with enough force to finally knock the man out.

Before long the familiar sirens showed up as the police must have realized it was safe for them to come detain him to pass him off to the proper authorities for enhanced individuals. Peter loitered for just a minute to make sure the Rhino didn’t get back up.

“Hello Animal Control. I’m afraid this guy is a little jumpy.” He offered with a wave, still standing on the Rhino’s back.

“Spider-man! You’re under arrest for property destruction and inciting violence.” They said as they raised their guns at him.

Peter’s hand dropped to his side. “Really?” He said in a flat tone. He just took down the criminal they couldn’t keep behind bars for a month, and they’re trying to arrest him.

With a sigh, Peter quickly hopped to the side in a flip, landing on the wall before launching off and dodging a few rubber bullets that had been shot his way. At least they weren’t trying to kill him this time. He quickly swung off into the distance, until the sirens were far out of earshot as he landed on a roof, leaning against the wall. He held his side, wincing as he could tell a few of his ribs were definitely bruised after the entire fight. Great. Just what he needed when studying.

Asking Karen for the time, he saw a couple hours had passed. With a sigh, he made a few more laps as he headed back to his apartment, climbing in and stepping out of his suit.

He made his way over to the bathroom, wincing as he saw his entire side was pretty much one giant bruise. Treating the basic cuts he could and doing other basic first aid, he slumped his way over to the table. His entire body ached, and he wanted to just curl up and sleep but he still had an essay to finish and two tests to study for. Sleep was just one of the many luxuries (and necessities) he couldn’t afford at the moment.

Opening another energy drink, he chugged it quickly and tried to power through some more work. If he could at least finish the essay he might be able to BS his way through the tests. So he started writing. He was pretty sure there were more spelling mistakes than were reasonable for a college student. But he kinda sorta had an outline. At least something he could work from.

Leaning back in his chair, he immediately winced and regretted his decision and he leaned forward again. Stretching wasn’t a good idea with his bruises. He also noticed his bruises were barely healing, which was worrying. But something he’d just have to deal with next week. If it didn’t heal by Monday he could deal with some strange looks for showing up bruised, it wouldn’t be the first time.

His phone buzzed and he saw a message from MJ.

Saw the alert. You okay?

Peter sighed. MJ stayed very up to date on any spidey news, so she pretty much knew every time he was out patrolling cause at least someone would report it on a fan site. Or the news if that battle was big enough like the Rhino.

I’m fine. Nothing broken this time. Promise. Which was true.

You better not be lying. Wanna read my article? Are you caught up on midterms?

Peter glanced over at the laptop with the barebones of an outline on it, and the two textbooks only halfway read on the table.

Yeah, doing surprisingly well. I can use a break. Send it over.

Thanks, Tiger.

Peter grinned down at the screen, and opened up his email, waiting for the notification. A moment later it popped up.

Here’s the essay. Lemme know your thoughts. Make sure you drink water tonight, and go shower. I know you’re lazy about it after patrol.

Peter rolled his eyes, but listened to her. He quickly hopped in the shower and changed into his last clean set of clothes before he got some water to sip along with his energy drink as he started reading her article.

Peter loved MJ’s writing. She was clear, concise, and he could practically hear her personality in the words. No matter what the subject was, he found himself enamored with reading what she wrote. She treated the reader with respect, and always offered a fair balancing of views on the issue, while not being afraid to make assertions that might make her a little less than popular at times.

Still, she was trusting him to offer proper feedback so he did his best to put aside his feelings for the author and focus on what he was reading. He noticed a few instances of some premises she presented as true without supporting them that he drew attention to, a few grammar mistakes, and one part that felt so clunky he had to read it a few times and he was still a little unsure just what she was saying.

Peter knew she’d rather he was honest and straight forward, while still polite about any potential issues in her article than hold back on his critique in order to be nice. She’d actually be pissed at him if he held back, so he stayed honest.

Sending the article back to her after double checking his own work, he leans back and looks at the clock on his wall. 2 am. He frowned slightly, but pulled over his text book. He was tired of writing for the moment so he started to read, doing his best to stay focused despite his creeping exhaustion. He normally likes to nap after a patrol but he had too much work to do.

A couple of minutes later when he was about half way through his third energy drink, he got a notification from MJ.

Thanks Tiger, you’re the best. You actually made good points, I’m impressed. Need me to check over your essay?

Peter frowned, looking at the outline he hadn’t touched in a couple of hours and still had no desire to work on.

It still needs some work before I can show it to anyone. I’m good, thanks though. Love you.

Love you too. Get some sleep, okay? I know the Rhino is annoying and I saw you get hit with that car. I can help you study tomorrow so get some sleep.

Peter smiled at her concern. He swore she knew him almost better than he did, as she was determined to keep him alive and she decided that meant knowing what kind of threats he would find himself up against.

You still have studying to do too, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. He replied as he glanced around his apartment. It was a mess, and he knew she’d yell at him if she saw the state he was living in lately. He wanted to live better than this but he was just so tired.

She didn’t respond, so he figured she had fallen asleep like a normal human would.

With a sigh, Peter downed the rest of the energy drink and splashed some water on his face. He had to get through this. He pointedly ignored the bruise that was looking worse and worse as he moved his textbook and notes to the couch to be a little more comfy than the old wooden chair at his table and laid down to read it, turning on the TV on low for some noise to distract him. He just had to keep working, he could do this.

Cracking open his fourth energy drink, he set it on the table and set to work.

By the time his phone showed four, his eyes felt incredibly heavy. Even the energy drink he had just finished seemed to have been doing nothing more to his system. Leaning his head back against the pillow, he let out a sigh. “Fuck.” he mumbled to himself. He still had another day of cramming to get through.

He managed to force another hour of studying out of him, enough to finish off the first book before he gave up. Setting about 12 alarms, he set them for 8 am, figuring three hours would be enough to kickstart his system into functioning again to get through tomorrow.

He laid his head back against the pillow and within seconds he was out cold.

Peter woke up to about the fifth alarm on his phone as he groaned and reached for it, his textbook sliding off his lap as he managed to find the phone and shut off all the alarms. Somehow he almost felt worse than when he went to bed.

Forcing himself to his feet, he only staggered a few steps before he had managed to regain his balance. He felt like death and he stumbled over to his bathroom. Brushing his teeth, he winced as he saw the side of his neck still showed a heavy bruise. It barely looked more healed than it would for a normal person. That was… really not good. A part of him considered going over to the Avenger’s tower to get it looked at. But he couldn’t… he had midterms.

Stumbling back over to the kitchen table he sighed and dragged his other text book over to him. He had to keep studying. His body would be fine, surely. He went to reach for another energy drink, but his stomach churned and he hesitated, before grabbing the water. For some reason just thought of more of the caffeine made him feel like he needed to go throw up.

He had only managed to get about an hour of studying in before his stomach was desperately screeching at him to get some food into him. Sighing, he gave into it and wandered over to his kitchen. Opening his fridge he saw… condiments. Some pickles, and a barely not empty jug of milk.

He felt his heart sink at it. God, why was he just a fucking mess? Slamming the door shut, he tried to keep his breathing even as he started rummaging through his mostly empty cabinets. He paused when he saw a bag of pancake mix. Right. He had made pancakes with MJ one night as a night in. Grabbing the mix, he looked around only to see all his bowls were dirty. Biting his lip, he just shoved all the dirty plates into one sink and piled the rest up next to it, before he washed a bowl and a pan, and a spatula in the sink, breathing a bit heavier.

A few minutes later he was finishing up the first pancake but the pile of dishes next to him just kept tearing into his heart.

Worthless.

A joke.

A disappointment.

A mess.

Peter realized he didn’t have a plate to pour it onto. “FUCK!” He shouted, far too loud for the time in the morning it was as he quickly half cleaned a plate, drying it off with shaky hands as he moved to the pan.

Now grabbing the slightly burnt pancake, his hands were shaking too much as he used the spatula but it tipped off the edge of the plate and fell onto the floor.

He watched it slow motion but he couldn’t bring himself to catch it with his reflexes. He was just so tired.

It landed unceremoniously on the dirty ground. Something in Peter broke.

“GODDAMMIT!” He shouted as he threw the pan with enough force that it broke one the cabinets on the opposite end of the kitchen and he just dropped the spatula and slid to the ground.

He curled his fists in his hair and just fell apart. He couldn’t stop the tears as he held his head. What the fuck was he doing with his life? He was just so damn tired. He was falling behind in all of his classes. His apartment was an embarrassment. He was broke. He had an amazing girlfriend he just kept disappointing. He needed to turn off the fucking stove and he couldn’t summon the strength to stand up.

He just clenched his head tighter, head between his knees as he did his best not to scream and get in even more trouble with his neighbors.

He heard the sound of someone approaching his door. He wanted to stand up. To hide his mess. To do anything but he just continued to sob on the ground, everything falling apart.

There was a knock on the door.

“Peter?” MJ’s voice called out.

His stomach dropped. No. She can’t see him like this. He tried to stand up, but his legs weren’t responding. Everything was so bright, and everything was starting to get so loud He tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. He heard her knock a few more times, as well as the muffled voices of people in the hallway saying something he couldn’t make out in his state.

“Peter!” MJ’s voice was more frantic this time as he heard the door unlocking. Fuck. He forgot she had a spare key.

She rushed in the apartment, looking around. He heard her gasp as she saw the broken cabinet. “Peter?” Her voice was more frantic as she turned and saw him on the ground. He tried to stand up again but his entire body was shaking and he couldn’t stop the fucking tears.

“MJ…”

In a flash she was at his side, looking him over for any signs of injuries. He saw her eyes flutter around the apartment, taking the state of it in before they settled back on him as he buried his head into his knees again.

“Peter…” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He couldn’t take it. He didn’t want anyone to see him this low. Especially not MJ. She was going to leave him. She should.

“Are you okay?” Her voice was gentle again.

Shakily he looked up to her, deep into her eyes. The truth rushed out of him, desperately clawing its way from deep inside.

“No.”

#spideychelle #peter parker #michelle jones #MJ #Ned leeds #Betty Brant #MCU #Peter is a disaster #and needs help #AND HES GONNA GET GET IT #Cause I like people figuring their shit out

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commanderserwin · 4 years ago

Text

patch me up?

↦ pairing(s): erwin smith x reader

↦ word count: 2.6k (sorry not sorry!!!)

↦ anon request:

↦ warnings(s): mentions of blood, bruises, stitches

↦ author’s note(s): the actual way i went DUMB crazy on this one!! i really enjoyed writing this!! thank u for requesting it so please enjoy !!! ahhh!!!!!

╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍

It was a busy day in the medical bay, moving from bed to bed to accommodate the injuries of the soldiers and the citizens alike. Although, you were handling mostly children because summer has just began, and the little rascals has got nothing better to do but run and play, resulting in broken ankles from tripping over a rock or even broken wrists because of falling face-first right in the ground. You handled parents easily, and treated their children's summer injuries with a smile on your face to somewhat ease their pain. The children also smiled even though they were close to crying, and they hold on to your arm for comfort.

"Hi."

You looked up quickly, idenitifying a solder with pristine uniform. The girl you were treating groaned in pain, and you gently comforted her with a pat on the hair. She began sniffling as you moved her arm over the pillow to make her feel more comfortable.

"Hi," you breathed, looking up quickly again, "How can I help you?"

The soldier cleared his throat, trying to catch up with you as you moved to another bed. This kid scraped both knees pretty badly, so he needs to change his bandages from time to time to prevent infection.

You sensed the soldier following you from your side, but you paid no attention, still waiting for his response. He began clearing his throat again, and you met his blue eyes that looked straight at you with, filled with attention.

"No, it's not that serious, but I-," he paused, as you spoke.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay."

You smiled at him, and pointed at the kid. The soldier blushed pretty quickly, as he looked down to somewhat fix his pants wherein you quickly glanced down to see that nothing was wrong. He caught you looking, and it was your time to blush.

Great, you thought, exactly when you looked at his crotch.

She is blushing, Erwin gushed on the inside. He could see the blush creeping through your neck, and he snapped out of it when you spoke.

"I was asking the kid," you hurried said, turning your attention back to the kid who was watching the whole thing, "If you need quick help, I suggest you go look for someone else."

"I could wait," the soldier offered.

"Okay, I'll be with you in a second. Why don't you wait for me over there?"

Erwin didn't realize that he was standing too close to your crouched position to help the kid. He shuffled quickly to the end of the bed, not really knowing what to do with his arms. Should he fold it over his chest? Should he keep his hands in his pocket? Does he look ridiculous? He waited for five minutes, watching you look up to him with a soft smile once in a while as if to check if he was still there. Should he leave? he thought.

He really is going to wait, you thought. You looked up a few times, looking at different parts of his face and body to quickly assess where he is hurt. Since he's a soldier, they are on your top priority, but this kid has a bad wound, so you took care of him first. The soldier didn't even look hurt anywhere, as you finally looked at his face, meeting his dark, blue eyes, matched with a handsome face, and blonde hair, and a nice physique, and he's tall, and he's standing with his arms crossed, and he quickly pointed at the kid, as the boy was now crying as you applied too much pressure on his wound.

"I'm so sorry!" You wiped at his wound quickly, wrapping it up in clean bandages, "I am so sorry about that!"

The kid eased his cry, wiping away at his own tears. You feel so bad, so you handed him a piece of cloth so that he could wipe his face. You also patted him on the shoulder, and sent a comforting squeeze on his arm as an apology. With that, you hurriedly walked away, clucthing your tray with both hands.

"Oh!"

You turned around to summon the soldier, but he was right behind you, causing you to crash on to him. He quickly bent over to pick up your medical instruments as he insisted right away. You looked down to see him staring at you as he picked your things up. You felt like a giddy kid, as you blushed very quickly when he gently laid your things on the tray.

"Right," you flustered, placing down your tray to the nearest table, "How can I help you?"

Erwin made note of how quickly you blushed, and he thought that it was... cute.

"I'm Erwin," he said, holding out his hand.

You obliged, feeling his hand engulf your own. "Hi. I'm [Y/N], where are you hurt?"

He turned over his hand with an embarrassed look on his face, and you looked at his bruising hand. "I was training, and it bruised..."

"I can give you some ice," you hurried to the back of the medical bay. You sensed him following as you looked over your shoulder, "Doesn't the military have its own bay?"

"No. I mean-, yes, they do," he stammered, fixing yet again his pants, and you foolishly followed.

You're blushing again, he thought and his heart jumped from your reaction.

"You should probably ice that," you shyly continued, asking for his hand as you applied the ice on to it, "You should also bandange your hand the next time you train, so it'll ease the pain."

"I'll keep that in check," he answered, covering your hand with his as he took the ice, practically caught in the middle of his hands.

You retracted your hand with another shy smile, and stepped back away from him as if to help yourself to not blush for nth time in front of this soldier.

Erwin, you thought.

"Come back if it hurts again," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I sure will," he said smugly, laughing slightly.

"No! I mean!" You hurriedly tried to help in yourself in this situation, but he shook his head with a lovely smile on his face.

"Thank you, [Y/N]."

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

There hasn't been a week ever since that meeting when you don't see Erwin standing by the door. It made you smile, as if looking forward to whatever little injuries he had that needs your utmost and professional healing skills with the use of ice packs on various parts of his body. It was mostly his hands, and with his smooth talking he got you to stay with him as he wasted all the ice of the medical bay on his tiny bruises.

"I've got you something," he mused, using his other hand to pick something out of his back pocket.

"Other than your miniscule bruises?" You smiled, crossing your hands over your chest as you sat down on the chair in front of him, after you slightly moved the cubicle curtains.

He colored your space with his deep laughter, as he finally picked out whatever he was hiding in his back pocket. He placed a small flower pin on the table where his bruised hand was and slided the pin to you. "I found it in the capital, it made me think of you."

It was a small yellow flower, and you quickly nodded with a big smile as you picked it up. Thinking how it made him think of you, you instantly blushed red. "It's beautiful," you gushed, turning it around to pin on your blouse, "I love it!"

"Here, let me help you," Erwin took the pin from your hand and ushered you forward to him with two fingers, and mesmerized you did. His calloused fingers hovered above your skin as he took the collar of your blouse to pin his gift.

"Thank you, Erwin," you whispered, looking up at him. You didn't realize that he was too close to you, his blue eyes scanning your face with a coy look on his face. He was too close that you could already feel his breath fan your face, and he moved a little closer, his hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, and behind your neck.

His lips were close to yours, and Erwin thought that he stopped breathing, when you ever so slightly angled your neck to his touch. He smirked on how your blush crept up to your neck and to your cheeks, to the tips of you ears, as he moved his hand on your neck to meet his, and your lips were almost touching. He scanned your eyes for a confirmation, if he could please kiss you, and you nodded lightly.

If only you know how much he is falling for you, he thought, holding you.

He could already feel his lips touch yours for the quickest second, when--.

"[Y/N]! Your patients needs you! Where are you?" The other nurse boomed further away from where the both of you were.

Erwin watched your face contort in embarrassment and he moved away as you took his hands off of your shoulders. You stood up fairly quick, as you placed the ice pack back on his hand.

"I have to go," you hurriedly said, staring at him with sympathetic eyes as you pulled back the curtains.

He didn't even get to say a goodbye as he watched you walk away to tend to your patients.

Once you reached your patient's bed, you quickly treated them with changing their bandages, grabbing them a glass of water. Out of curiousity, you peeked where Erwin was, just to check if he was still there.

The blonde soldier waved his hand at you with shaking his head showing his beautiful smile.

You don't know how long he was there, but it made you completely skittish to see that was staring right you, and was waiting.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

It has been two weeks since Erwin visited the hospital. You looked out the window, and it was well past the time he usually visits. You missed treating his small bruises on his hands, and lingering stares while you busy yourself with other patients, and always coming back to him to talk for hours- the ice pack warm and melted.

"[Y/N...]"

You swiftly moved your feet towards the voice in a hurry to see Erwin slumped with his bloodied hand and cut on his right cheek. He wrapped his arm over your shoulder, and you took a peek to see that he's got small cuts on them too, but his right cheek was worst. That was also when you realized he's got a slightly swollen lips.

"What happened to you?" You asked, helping him sit down on the chair as you pulled the curtains over your cubicle. You rushed to get your medical tray and his favorite ice pack to help ease the huge bruises on his body. He groaned as you cleaned his cuts and applied cream to prevent infection. You sat on the chair in front of him, applying more on his hands as he slumped on the wall to rest his back. "Did you get into a fight?"

"Just a little disagreement," he nodded, groaning as he closed his eyes in pain as he tended to the cut on his cheek.

"Open your legs," you said, moving his legs to stand in the middle of it, as you cleaned his wound. "Tsk, you should really be careful, Erwin."

You didn't realize he was rightfully staring at you with a surprised face, his arms laid idly on his thighs, slightly touching your legs when you moved in closer to his face. None of you said a word for a few minutes, while he was busy scanning your face for any expression.

"Is it that bad?" He asked, his lips almost as close as before.

"Yes," you breathed, touching his cheek, "You need a stitch."

"Are you going to patch me up then?"

You rolled your eyes at him, as you leaned on one foot as you grabbed your materials to begin fixing him up. "Well, you finally gave me something to actually patch up, so yes."

"Will it hurt?"

"Oh, you big baby!"

He laughed and groaned real quick as he touched his cheek as if to comfort him. You pulled it away, and pointed at him so he won't touch it. Erwin shut right up as he saw how serious you are when you began stitching him up. It did hurt, and he balled his fist everytime it stung, which is every second. The only comfort he has was your light hands and your shuffling of feet as you leaned on his leg to balance yourself.

You stopped in your movement as he rest his hand on your hip to help you stand up. The sudden movement made you blush and it didn't help when he finally commented on it.

"You're always blushing," he chuckled lightly, his hand going ever so slightly on your lower back as if to inch you forward.

You moved in closer, and you felt his thighs touch the sides of your legs in response when you hummed an agreement with a smile. His idle hands now rest on your lower back and hip. Thankfully, the curtains are drawn so you weren't that much worried about anyone seeing the both of you. His breath fanned your face as he leaned in your touch as you sewed him right up. His grip tightened everytime the needle goes out, and you couldn't help but squeak in surprise everytime.

And it got him smiling. Painfully handsome.

"It's finished," you sighed, holding on to his face, peeking at your handiwork. "Don't get punched again in the near future, all right?"

"Okay," he whispered as he angled his face to yours with ease as you followed his guide. He took a sharp breath as your lips hovered over his, "Can I kiss you now then?"

"You want to kiss me with your swollen lips?" You asked, wrapping your arms on his shoulder, moving in closer with a happier smile, and he held you tightly.

"Not really my ideal first kiss," Erwin whispered against your lips as he hands roamed your back to move you to him.

Erwin could feel his heart beating faster than his horse has ever galloped. He has been crushing on you since the beginning ever since he started coming in the medical bay to get his wounds cleaned. He admits that sometimes he trains harder than usual to visit you so you could apply ice on his bruises. It took a while of persuasion from Levi to send his ass over to the medical bay so that he could see you even just a few hours every week. Erwin is stoic in administering strategies for their expeditions, but when it comes to you, his mind goes everywhere- scrambled, giddy, ecstatic, not really knowing how to do the first move.

His thoughts were filled by your soft touches, and quiet stares as you two sat in comfortable silence, feeling his hand numb in the coldness just so he could visit you. His heart jumps and smile widens whenever he sees the flower pin he gives you everytime he visits.

It was the same with you. You were always waiting for Erwin to come by with his bruising complains but however small it is, you always treat him. Usually with the curtains drawn so that your superior wouldn't see you just sitting down while Erwin tells you about he got his bruise, and it was always the same thing. Erwin would make your whole body buzz in excitement whenever he comes to visit, and your crush on him get bigger and bigger the longer he chooses to stay even if you were busy.

"Erwin," you breathe, drowning in his blue eyes, while he smiled at you, "Kiss me."

#erwin smith #erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith imagine #erwin smith imagines #attack on titan #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titans headcanon #shingeki no kyoujin

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orionwhispers · 5 years ago

Text

Fools Gold // Tommy Shelby

(A/N - ok. i started this imagine in december but then life happened and here we are almost in march. this took a really long time to write and im honestly kind of iffy about it but i hope you guys like it. also side note - tommy is a MASSIVE dick in this and do not let a boy/girl/anyone treat you like this - this is purely fiction and irl if someone uses you like this then they are trash. also second side note im mean to grace in this but I have a lot of feelings ok. LOVE U GUYS)

Thomas Shelby needed a distraction.

His mind was hazy, like looking through a cloud of smoke. He saw Grace everywhere. Sunshine coloured hair reflecting on the grey puddles in the street, sapphire blue eyes watching him from the bluebells sitting on Polly’s desk, her soft laughter in his ears whenever he heard a bell chime. He wanted a distraction. He wanted a quick fix, something soft and warm that would fill the emptiness of his bed and the hole in his heart, but he never imagined just what that would cost.

The first time he saw you was on a Wednesday. The clouds were silver and the air was cold, and London was a welcome change in scenery. He was visiting Ada, in the city for business but wanting to see the kind face of his sister, some softness in his world of sharp. It was late at night, the moon round and full and the library almost empty, and he nodded at his sister in greeting as she filed away the last of the novels.

“Tommy.” She smiled, with rosy cheeks and tousled hair. “Let me just grab my coat and we’ll be off.”

She turned to speak to someone, and Tommy impatiently tapped his clipped fingernails along the edge of a desk, his brain always working, mentally relieving business deals in his head as he waited. He listened to the low hum of the roads outside and the incessant flickering of a street lamp through the window, turning slowly at the sound of footsteps approaching.

His breath hitched in his throat.

Standing beside his sister, all kind eyed and ink stained and sweet as strawberry ice cream was a girl. A girl that for the first time in a long time, made the memories in his brain curl off and vanish like wisps of smoke.

A girl that could be the perfect distraction.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright closing up? I’m sorry to rush off like this.” He didn’t register his sisters voice, his ocean blue eyes trained on you, with your cherry bitten lips and pink polished fingernails.

“Oh Ada, I’m fine. Have a lovely time.” You replied, voice just as honeyed as the rest of you. You gave Tommy a soft smile, wringing your hands together, slightly uncomfortable with the attention you had accidentally drawn to yourself.

He stepped forward without a second thought, his palm outstretched. You blinked back at him, like a deer caught in headlights. Ada had spoken about her brother; how he could sweet talk the devil, and how he was destined to rule the world with his golden mind and silver tongue. You had been intimidated by her words, and standing before him you felt utterly, hopelessly, mortal.

You tried to hide your nerves as you shook his hand, his large fingers engulfing yours and sending sparks down your spine. His blue eyes reminded you of the ocean, like a stormy sea and the smell of salt, and you were worried you might just drown. He wasn’t handsome. He was beautiful.

“My apologies for stealing my sister away.” He said, his voice even and still, warm like a summer breeze. “I’m Tommy.”

“(Y/N).” You replied, trying not to falter under his unwavering stare.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N).”

You held his gaze for as long as you could, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks and your neck grow hot. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that was what unsettled you the most. You had never been in the presence of someone so powerful and striking, and you felt so small next to him.

After a moment you pulled away, biting your lip gently and motioning to the overflowing bookshelves around you. “I should get back, it was nice to meet you. Have a nice night, Ada.” You smiled at your friend, before turning on your heel and walking away, feeling eyes bore into your back.

Tommy watched as you left, entranced by the swish of your skirt and the soft footsteps you took, and-the dizzying length of your tight clad legs. Ada tightened her scarf around her throat, a smirk on her face as she made her way to the door.

“Don’t even think about it Tommy.”

——————————————————-

It was hard for him not to.

That night, as he drove back to Birmingham, he pictured your pretty face, your teeth chewing on those rose coloured lips, the slight tremor in your words as you spoke. In the quiet of his bedroom, the moon watching him from high above, it was usually Grace who disrupted his nightly reflection. But for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t her voice soothing him to sleep.

He knew he wasn’t going to fall in love. Grace might have been on the other side of the Atlantic with a husband that didn’t deserve her, but Tommy was a romantic, and he truly thought that one day they would reunite. Lizzie was a good fuck, but she was temporary. Now she was hired as his secretary he didn’t want to blur the lines of their relationship, and he could already feel her growing too close for comfort. He didn’t need a girlfriend, especially when he knew that no one could compare to Grace, he didn’t need another person to worry about and he certainly didn’t need another broken heart. But what he did need was something to fill the void.

It was easy to find you, even with just your first name. He spoke to one of his informants in London, under the guise of ‘looking for a new assistant’ and the following day he had a stack of papers sitting on his desk.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). You worked at the library two days a week, and spent the other three training as a nurse. There were no previous addresses or references from past jobs, just your current flat and the hospital where you worked part time. There was nothing personal, no mention of family or relatives nearby, just a slightly faded photograph of you taken before the war. You weren’t looking at the camera, your eyes occupied elsewhere, almost as if you were shying away from the photographer. You looked younger, but just as beautiful and Tommy thumbed the worn print between his fingers; careful not to smudge your face, a fingertip trailing along your lips.

———————————————————-

The flowers came three days after you had met.

You had been at the hospital learning how to properly stitch wounds, and your head was numb from processing so much information. You were exhausted, droplets of rain splattering across your collar and down the back of your blouse, and you were desperate for the warmth of your bed. You toyed with the keys in your pocket, finger running across the ridges so that you could get in as quickly as possible, but you fumbled when you noticed a spark of crimson on your doormat.

It must have cost at least a hundred pounds. Rich, ruby red roses all neatly clipped and arranged, their petals healthy and as soft as butter, and the gold foil writing on the box was of a store on the other side of London, one you had been too intimidated to even step foot in. You assumed that it was for Mrs Kim upstairs, or perhaps a gift from Ron to Mark after they had one of their colossal rows, but as you reached for the label, you felt your brow furrow.

“It really was a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Regards, Tommy Shelby.”

You left them in your kitchen, squashed into the only vase you owned, clipping them practically to the wick to get them all to fit. You ignored them as you ate dinner, the radio nothing but noise in the background. You tried not to think of them as you sank into a scalding hot bath, or as you clambered into bed, and it worked - because what you thought of as you drifted off to sleep wasn’t ruby red roses, but ocean blue eyes.

——————————————————————

Two more bouquets came in two weeks. Both just as lavish and extravagant as the first, and both sitting in the biggest drinking glasses you owned. Your flat smelt like a florists’, and pollen lingered on your clothes all day, a constant reminder of the man who had sent them. You busied yourself with work, letting the day to day distractions of the injured occupy your mind. The hospital had needed an extra pair of hands and you needed experience, but when you finally returned to the library, you cornered Ada as she restocked the shelves.

“Oh (Y/N)!” She smiled, as pure and fresh as new snow. “It’s not been the same without you.”

“I don’t want a boyfriend.”You blurted out, eyes wide.

You had hoped to say something more eloquent, but Ada’s jet black hair and similarity to her brother made you fall pathetically at the last hurdle. Her eyebrows shot up, and you inhaled deeply. “Sorry, that came out wrong. Please tell Tommy, thank you for the flowers, but I’m not really looking for something right now.”

“Tommy sent you flowers?” There was curiosity evident in her voice as she stepped forward, heeled boot clicking against the floor.

“Well, more like three bouquets.”

“Wow.” Her brows almost reached the pendant light dangling from the ceiling.

“I thought you knew - I mean, I thought you gave him my address.”

She shook her head, a small smirk dancing in her face. “Nope. But that’s never stopped Tommy before.”

You exhaled, looking up at her and chewing on the bottom of your lip. “You know that I - I can’t. I don’t think I’m ready, you know, after everything...”

Ada was your closest friend, she had been since she arrived in London. Beautiful and intelligent, with her young son and quick wit - you remembered meeting her on her first day at the library, feeling nervous and intimidated by such a confident and clever woman, but barely a week passed and it felt as though you had known her your entire life. As the months flew by, the two of you would often go for drinks or dinner by the river, staying out till midnight and laughing until your ribs felt tough. She trusted you enough to let you babysit Karl, the little boy calling you his Auntie and making your insides swell with pride. And finally, on a warm summer night, with her cherry red lips and coal black eyeliner, the two of you watching the sun set from the balcony of her expansive house, she opened up to you.

As the sky darkened and you shared champagne and strawberries in the open air, she told you about her family and her past. Her voice was smaller than you had ever heard it, such a powerful woman almost seeming meek as she bore her soul to you. She told you about Freddie, the headstrong and golden hearted man she had fallen for, and you intertwined your fingers when she spoke about his death. She told you about her reasons for arriving in London, cautiously speaking about a gang that roamed the streets back home, you listened intently, eyes wide when she revealed that the main members were of her own blood.

She trusted you inexplicably, telling you things that she had burrowed away for years and that meant the world to you. So under the moonlight, you tipped your head back and emptied your glass, blinking back tears as you explained your own past, the one you had been running from.

Now though, she pressed a kind hand to your shoulder, her eyes softening ever so slightly and it broke you away from your thoughts.“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’ll tell Tommy to keep his cock in his pants.” She winked at you, making you let out the breath that you had been holding, a relieved chuckle escaping from your throat.

She tugged your sleeve gently, motioning to the overflowing pile of dog eared novels by her feet. “Come and help me sort all this out.” She said “And let me fill you in on my date yesterday.”

Ada phoned Tommy as soon as she arrived home. He answered on the third ring, his voice tired and thick with smoke, his exhaustion evident through the speaker. One mention of you however, and he perked up like he had downed three shots of espresso. Work had been fucking awful, and imaging you and those rosebud lips was a pleasant distraction from the ache in his skull.

Ada told him to back off, and he could practically feel his sisters stern expression despite being 100 miles away from her. “She’s too nice for you Tommy, and not interested. Besides aren’t there enough girls in Birmingham? Why do you have to come after the one I’ve actually made friends with?”

Tommy had rolled his eyes. He loved his sister, but he didn’t feel like explaining his reasoning to her. He knew that she would never approve, never really understand him.

“You know I want you to find someone, especially after...” She inhaled sharply, choosing her words carefully. “Look, Tommy, you’ll find someone, but just not (Y/N), yeah? She’s been through a lot.”

He hummed, not voicing his real thoughts, always liking to keep his cards close to his chest. He said his goodbyes and hung up, Ada’s words lingering in his brain. His spine had stiffened at the implication of Grace, he hated being reminded of the past, especially memories he was trying so hard to forget. But it wasn’t just that, there was something about the words she had chosen that had sparked a fire in his gut.

“She’s been through a lot.”

He wasn’t quite sure what she was insinuating, but to him, it made you all the more alluring. He would never pursue a woman who truly wanted nothing to do with him. He might not have been the textbook definition of a ‘good man’ but he respected those who turned him down - although it was very much a rarity. But there was something about you, something about the way that you had held his stare, the innocence in your eyes and the attractiveness that hung around you like sugar water.

He loved the chase, especially when the reward was as sweet as you.

—————————————————————-

He waited outside your flat, hands in his pockets and peaked cap low on his head. It was almost six and he knew that you would be returning from the hospital soon, so he crossed his legs, leaning on the doorframe with a cigarette between his lips, secondhand smoke curling in the air.

He heard you before he saw you; the hiss of the cold air as you fought with the heavy door, the clunk of your patent loafers across the concrete and the jangle of your keys in your palm. He smiled to himself. Watching as you walked up the stairs, rifling through papers in your hands and then looking up suddenly, your eyes widening with shock.

“Tommy.” You said, filled with genuine surprise, clutching your handbag tightly, sure that you would drop it otherwise.

He liked the way his name sounded on your tongue.

He reached forward, steadying your wobbling hands and collecting the papers before they could scatter down the hallway. You stiffened at the contact, but he held you secure.

“Is Ada alright?” You asked quickly, hoping his impromptu visit didn’t come with bad news. He looked down and felt his stomach twist at the sight of your long lashes and shining wide eyes.

He shook his head. “My sisters fine. I actually came here for you.”

“Me?”

“Ada rang me, and I wanted to apologise for being so forward. It wasn’t my intention.”

You straightened, pulling slightly away from his hands. “You could have called, or written a letter.” The words came out slightly sharper than you had hoped, but you felt bristled by his sudden appearance.

He smiled. A half tug that looked boyish and cheeky, almost a smirk, and you hated the way that it made your heart flutter. “Well, yes, but that would have meant not seeing you in person.”

You fought back your own embarrassed grin, feeling blush rise from your throat to the plump of your cheeks. A flicker of humour sparked in his eyes, feeling triumphant at getting even the smallest of responses from you. The heat around your collar was turning such a delicious shade of red, like a honeycrisp apple, and it was hard for him to look away.

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You shifted on one foot, trying not to look into his milky blue eyes, knowing that if you did he would have you hook, line and sinker. “Tommy... I don’t know.”

“Just one dinner and I’ll be out of your hair.”

You exhaled, feeling yourself starting to cave. “Okay. One dinner. And nowhere fancy.”

Five minutes later and you were out the door. You had slipped off your work uniform and stepped into a lavender beaded dress and a pair of modest kitten heels. You hated the way you double checked your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out the stray hairs by your forehead, placing a cool hand to your chest to try and level your breathing. You didn’t put on any makeup, you weren’t trying to give Tommy the wrong idea.

You reminded yourself that you were just going to dinner, as friends. Nothing more.

Tommy watched you under the shimmering lights of the club. The rhythmic clash of the jazz band echoed all around him, beautiful women laughed and swayed on the dance floor, and the air was thick with smoke and bitter whisky, but his attention was solely cast at you.

Your head was down, and you were picking at the food on your plate. The expensive bottle of red wine sat opened in the middle of you both, your glass untouched and his filled halfway.The owner had recognised him immediately and sent over the gift, and he didn’t miss the caution that flashed on your face at the gesture.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass?” He asked, voice smooth like silk.

You looked up at him. “No, thank you though. I have an early shift in the morning.”

He nodded, cutting through his steak, a sliver of blood on his knife. “How long have you been a nurse?”

He already knew, but he wanted to hear your answer.

“Well, I’m technically not a nurse - not yet. I’m still training, but I only have a few months to go.” You smiled, and he watched as your whole face lit up as you talked about your passion. “I’ve always wanted to do it. Now I finally am.”

“Well, I think that’s very admirable.”

“And what do you do?”

“Oh. I’m a bad man.” He said, as if it was the most causal thing in the world. His cobalt eyes flickered from his plate to you, holding you hostage in his gaze.“But I’m sure Ada’s told you all about that.”

You inhaled. “I try not to judge people based on rumours.”

“Even if they hold some truth in them?”

You didn’t say anything. You swirled around the spaghetti on your plate, spearing your fork through a pea. After a moment you cleared your throat, daring to look up at him.

“I think the world has changed. Times have moved on, and sometimes it requires a firmer hand to get where you want to be.”

Tommy paused, genuinely taken aback by your reply. You had been so timid and placid before, but now there was an intensity to your words, one that he found particularly alluring.

“It doesn’t mean that I agree, but - ” You sighed. “A few years ago, I was turned down by a nursing school; they said I was too young and too inexperienced and... it really shattered my confidence. I was going to give up completely, but instead I decided to keep studying, and I was working three jobs to just make ends meet. When I applied again I made sure that there was no way they would reject me.”

Your eyes flickered up momentarily as you chewed on your upper lip. “All I’m saying is, sometimes you have to work hard to get what you want.”

Tommy mulled over your words, tongue running over his teeth. He picked up the stem of his wine glass and held it towards you in a toast. His eyes caught yours and his stare was unwavering, the edge of his lips unturned in a boyish smirk.

“To getting what we want.”

———————————————————-

You really, truly, honestly, didn’t want to enjoy your dinner with Tommy - but you did. The night was so easy, after a while you managed to find a comfortable niche and the conversation flowed like running water. As time passed you found yourself giving into habits that you thought you had left behind, like tucking a loose curl behind your ear, or giggling into your hands, a warm shade of pink staining your skin. Tommy watched you, the anchor on his chest lifting slightly, the way it always did when he found himself getting his way.

He walked you home with his suit jacket draped over your shoulders; despite your protests, leaving you smelling like whisky sours and cigarettes. He could feel your apprehension as you stood under the archway of your apartment building. The wind had picked up and rain was drizzling onto the both of you, and his stomach tightened when you looked up at him with raindrops coating your eyelashes. He was waiting for you to speak first. If he had his way, he would be joining you in your flat, pressing you up against the wall and kissing your lips until they were swollen. He wanted to untangle the braid in your hair, unlace the dress that made you look ethereal and feel you breathless under him, but he remained patient.

The truth was that even though you had only spent one evening alone, the constant buzz of work and life in his brain had faded into static. (There was only one woman who had ever made it fully fade, but now he knew now to take whatever he could get). He had genuinely enjoyed the night, even without the guarantee of ending it in your bed. It was pleasant to spend a few hours talking about something other than business deals or brutality, to fill silences with stories about films you had seen or your misbehaving patients.

He would be satisfied with a goodnight kiss, to taste the sweetness of your lips and feel the curve of your waist under his palm. He liked the way that the nerves you had started the night with were flittering under your skin once again; it made him feel good, it made him feel wanted, it made him feel powerful. It would be enough to sate him over until the next time you met up - because believe him, there would be a next time - but even he couldn’t stop the flare of surprise that splashed over his face when you simply handed him back his jacket and darted up the stairs.

“Thank you for dinner, Tommy. Have a good night.”

Underneath the broken bulb in your hallway, with his expensive patent shoes slowly filling with water, he let out a loud, genuine, chuckle.

—————————————

A few days passed, and whilst your evening with Tommy still lingered in your mind, work was much too hectic for you to be wrapped up in distractions. There were no more surprise bouquets or unannounced visits, and no phone calls at the end of your shifts either, you knew you should have been relieved, but you couldn’t ignore the tiny flicker of disappointment. You decided to tell Ada, mentioning your dinner casually the next time that you saw her, dropping it into conversation as though it wasn’t a monumental piece of gossip.

“You did what?” Her voice echoed around the expansive library and you playfully shushed her, pointing to the people reading on the floor below.

“It’s not that big of a deal!”

“Psh! Easy for you to say!” She huffed, elbowing you in the ribs as she meticulously rearranged the books on the shelf in front of her. “I thought you were... you know...” She waved her hand like she was wafting smoke from her face, a clear indication of what she thought you were going to do to her brother.

You sighed, wiping the dust from a hardcover. “I know, I know. But he’s... charming.”

“Yeah, like a fox.”

You laughed at her blunt tone. She turned away and continued working, her shoulders shrugging with her movements. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will, mum.” You tugged on the bottom of her hair like a child, making her meet your line of sight. “Honestly, Ada, it was a nice night, but it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere. I have no plans to see him again - ever.”

Your intentions were shattered as you left the hospital one evening, stopping dead in your tracks when you recognised the distinct peaked cap and felt the unmistakable domineering aura all around you. You tried to bite back the smile threatening to take over your entire face when you saw him leaning against a red brick wall, tall and cool, the kind of man that would have a million songs made about him.

You couldn’t deny the twist in your gut when he smiled at you, so cheeky yet smooth like rich dark chocolate. You felt the envious glances of the other nurses leaving their shifts around you, bubbling with jealousy and curiosity. You didn’t even care that you would be the main topic of discussion at the next tea break on Monday, as much as you hated to admit it, you felt like the world around you was blurring, leaving nothing but the two of you.

“Is this a social call, Tommy? Or should I get the first aid kit.” You called out under the noise of the streets around you, your voice deceivingly controlled.

He flipped his leather notebook closed, one you hadn’t even noticed he was so engrossed in, sliding it into his pocket and uncrossing his legs, his eyes shining with humour.

“No, not tonight. Although I’ll know where to come if I ever need it.”

You came to a stop just before him, not trusting yourself to get too close.“What can I do for you, Thomas?”

He didn't comment on the space you had left between you, but you knew that he had noticed it. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his wallet, nimble fingers rifling through until he pulled out two stubs of paper.

“I have tickets for the play tonight.”

You felt your eyes widen as he showed you the passes. You had made an offhand comment at dinner about wanting to see this particular play, one that you didn’t think he had even noticed, but he was obviously more observant than you had given him credit for.

“Wow. That’s great.” You smiled, “Well, I hope you have a lovely night.” You winked at him, turning on your heel but he grabbed the edge of your sleeve, pulling you back towards him.

“I think it’ll be a little rude of me if I show up alone, and besides, a lot of these things tend to go over my head, I think I might need somebody to help me understand everything.”

You wanted to resist. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to be strong and admit that the fortress you had built around yourself wasn’t ready to start crumbling down, not just yet.

But you couldn’t.

You knew that this could all be a mistake. Letting people in wasn’t something you were used to, especially not someone as charming and handsome as Tommy. But you found yourself liking him, as though he had some kind of magnetic hold over you, pulling you closer even when you wanted to run.

“Tommy I - It’s kind of you, but I don’t think it’ll be wise.”

“Please.” He said, and hearing such a vulnerable word coming from his mouth made your throat constrict. “I know that I’m being forward and feel free to tell me to piss off, but honestly, I had such a wonderful dinner with you and I would love to take you out again. And besides, you’re my only friend here in London.”

“What about your sister?”

“Oh we’re really not that close.” He teased.

You laughed, chewing on your lip so harshly you thought you might draw blood. Despite the protests in your brain you reached out and took a ticket, looking up at him with those big eyes that made his toes curl.

“Fine.”

The theatre was beautiful. It was wide and open, with red velvet seats and high ceilings. It was the prefect escape, laughing and gasping with the audience as the actors fought and danced on stage, magnificent hand painted back drops making you feel like you were no longer in London. You ate truffle coated popcorn and drank glasses of champagne, all sent over by the ushers that recognised Tommy instantly, practically bowing to him when you both arrived.

But Tommy truly couldn’t care less for whatever was happening in front of you both, because he was completely captivated by you. He liked when you tipped your head back when you laughed, he liked the way your eyes lit up and followed the characters on stage, as though you were in a trance. He followed the curve of your nose and the pout of your lip under the cream coloured lights, unable to fight back the smile when you noticed him, blush rising up your neck like a tidal wave.

He walked you home that night, just like he had before, his jacket slung over your shoulders and his hand ghosting against yours. You seemed more open, your anecdotes a little more personal and your laugh a little louder, and he really felt like he might be getting somewhere. He liked making you giggle and the way you tucked into his side when a car raced by a little too fast, and he wasn’t even disappointed when you simply handed back his coat at the end of the night, a ghost of a smile on your lips - if anything it made him want you more.

The morning after the play, with eyes blurred from sleep and a migraine brewing behind your eyes, you found a still warm lemon loaf and a container of expensive coffee on your doorstep. You smiled as you tied your hair up messily with a powder pink ribbon you had around your wrist, placing the coffee inside by the kettle and half of the sickly sweet treat in your handbag, knowing you would need it to soften up Ada when you inevitably told her about the evening you had shared.

She had rolled her eyes and scolded you; reminding you to be cautious. And you wanted to be, really, but there was something about him that made you ignore the warning signs hammering in your chest, and before you knew it you were back under his arm when he next showed up on your doorstep.

He took you to a horse show on the other side of London, telling you that he needed another pair of eyes and a consultant for helping him choose a new mare. You had told him you knew nothing about horses, and yet he persisted, pulling you in with that damned smile and those ocean blue eyes. You had managed to get one over on him though, meeting him at his car the next day, dressed in a blood red gown that made his breath get caught in his throat. You looked beautiful, ethereal even, with your curled hair and shy eyes. And that colour red, the colour of sin against such a gentle soul made the fire in the pit of his belly reignite whenever he looked at you, but worst of all, was the way that colour reminded him of her.

He didn’t want to be wallowing in the past. So he allowed himself to get sucked into you, allowed the smell of your perfume and the sound of your voice and the warmth of your body distract himself from the blonde beauty that was clawing back into his mind.

He was waiting for you in his matte black car on his last night in London, and you tried to ignore the thump of your heart when you realised that he wanted to spend his final day in the city with you. He drove to Hyde Park, the sun was high and the sky was the cloudless, a long stretch of blue that seemed to go on forever. You walked across the grass, keeping your hands laced together so you wouldn’t risk brushing your fingertips against his, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hide the goosebumps that would rise on your skin.You watched him smoke, inhaling and exhaling smoothly, blowing out nicotine like it was water, and he smiled when he caught your eye.

“Why did you bring me here today?” You asked finally, when the two of you came to a stop by the edge of the pond, watching the ducks and swans swim between the reeds.

“I like appreciating beautiful things.” He said, tilting his head so he was looking you in the eye.

You sighed, watching the sun reflect diamonds from the water. “I don’t understand you, Tommy, and that makes me nervous.” He didn’t know what to say, and so he let you continue. “How much has Ada told you about me?”

“Nothing. She’s a good friend.”

“She’s my best friend.” You murmured, and he watched the way your eyes glossed over, like you were replaying a million memories in your head. “You know, she told me to stay away from you.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

“I don’t know why you’re pursuing me.” Your voice was small, like the ripples that lapped over the top of the pond.

The truth is he didn't either. He knew it was wrong, using you as a way to get over Grace, but he’s never been known for having the most ethical methods. Doesn’t he deserve this? For everything he does, for the money he makes and the lives he’s built for his family, doesn’t he deserve something kind and pretty and gentle? Doesn’t he deserve a distraction from all the noise?

You reached into your handbag, rummaging around through the loose lipsticks and many receipts that you’ve shoved inside. He peered as you pulled out a small coin purse, rose coloured and no bigger than your palm. You unclasped the two little pearls at the top, and he noticed your fingers shaking ever so slightly, like a leaf in the wind.

You pulled out a picture and handed it to him, dog eared and greying but unmistakably you, laughing into the cheek of a young man, his arms slung over your shoulder. Tommy looked over at you, but you were watching the water, jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“Who is he?”

“Steven.” You cleared the lump residing in your throat, the one that always surfaced when you spoke about him. “We lived next door to each other, he was my first kiss, my first love, my first - everything.”

Tommy felt a pang in his gut like a sucker punch, he could hear the hurt in your words, he knows it too well, because it’s the same that echoes around his skull whenever he thinks about Grace.

You continued, “We were together since primary school, and all through secondary. I really thought we were going to be with each other forever.” You sniffled, and Tommy knows what you’ll say before you’ve even formed the words, because he’d been through the horrors himself. “He was a few years older than me though, and then he... and then he got drafted.”

“He was never made for the war. No one is, not really, but he was special. He was so kind and gentle and funny, and it wasn’t fair. We got married the day before he was sailing to France. I wore my mothers dress, it was too big and a few buttons were broken, but it was perfect. We were just kids in love.”

The silence that followed told Tommy everything he needed to know, and his gut felt heavy, like it was filled with lead. He wanted to reach out and touch you, the sadness radiating off of you like perfume, but he kept his hands to himself.

“How did it happen?” Tommy asked after a moment, knowing that you might not be able to bring up the subject unless he did.

“Second battle of Somme. Front line. They said he took the bullet instead of his comrade, jumped in the way to save him. They said he died quickly, that he wasn’t in much pain.”

“He died a hero.”

“He shouldn’t have died at all.”

Tommy agreed with that.

“The war took too many good men.” His voice was growing as sullen as his eyes, thinking back to a time that always sucked the life from him, his mind growing hazy with thoughts of the trenches and mud on his feet, sticky blood staining his hands.

“And destroyed those left behind.”

He inched closer to you. He was so tall and stoic, eyes focused on the water in front of you yet you felt completely seen, something about him making you feel content. Above you, the clouds were darkening, a chill whipping around you both. He brushed his shoulder against yours, the fabric making you shiver slightly, and he grabbed your wrist gently, intertwining your fingers with his, making the first move because he knew you couldn’t.

“Come on,” He said, voice raspy and thick like billowing smoke. “We don’t want to get stuck in the storm.”

The rain was torrential. It was almost comical how quickly the clouds gathered and darkened, spitting droplets from above that trickled down and splattered the both of you. You giggled as you ran to the car, Tommy holding his jacket above the two of you, your heels splashing through puddles. It felt like a weight had lifted from your chest, when you opened the car door and bolted inside, breathless and wild. It had always been hard to talk about Steven, the words getting stuck in your throat like thick honey, but the relief of having it out in the open was enormous. You didn’t realise just how much of the past you were holding onto.

Raindrops were scattered along Tommy’s fine leather seats, the bottom of your dress painted with a faint layer of mud. His windshield wipers squealed as the cleared away the water, the car thick with tension and heat rising from your damp bodies. It was late by the time you made it back to the centre of the city, the rain still cascading down loudly onto the pavement around you. You could hear your blood rushing to your ears, the kind of constant hum that made you feel as though you were being held underwater.

Your whole body was bubbling with apprehension, you could feel Tommy moving behind you, the edge of his jacket brushing against your arm. You couldn’t find your keys inside your handbag, struggling from adrenaline and the icy chill of the air. Wet hair clung to your forehead, and you were certain your mascara was halfway down your cheeks, and you turned to Tommy to apologise for your clumsiness, but he was already gazing at you.

You were looking up at him, so innocent and so gentle and so beautiful under the soft glow of the navy sky and the twinkling stars and all he really wanted was to kiss you senseless - so he did.

He tasted like sweet mint and nicotine, and you tasted like woodsmoke and wisteria. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, it wasn’t like stealing kisses in the alley when you were sixteen, or clumsy kisses in the bed you shared with Steven, this was intense and passionate and all consuming. Tommy allowed you to devour him, the smell of you overpowering his senses and he buried his soft aching hands in your messy hair.

His body was pressed against you, thick and hard against the velvet of your figure. You pulled away slowly, lips puffy and swollen and baby pink. You were blushing, red hot from nerves and exhilaration and you laughed sweetly against the crook of his neck, eyelashes fluttering against his flesh.

“Do you want to come inside?”

His fingertips were the paint coated brushes and your body was the perfect canvas. You reacted to his touch like it was everything you craved. Your kisses were open mouthed and messy, and he had to bite his tongue to stop the cascade of groans threatening to spill from his lips. Your pulses were synced, the low light of your bedroom made you look like a creature from a fairytale, and he touched you like you were made from glass. His hands were soft yet rough, you let him run his fingers through his hair and then leave bruises on your hip bones. He shuddered into your neck, sweat dripping onto your skin, whines leaving your mouth that he wanted to drill into his brain and remember for the rest of his life.

He was breathless. He closed his eyes as he laid down next to you, the sky outside black like coal. You had been perfect. He couldn’t hear the shovels. The usual constant battle in his brain was replaced by the salty memory of your skin, your hot breath against his ear, your legs tangling with his. He felt you next to him, curling into him slightly, your body still recovering and your toes twitching.

The bedroom was quiet, nothing but the creak of the wind against the window and the occasional pattern of rain against the glass. He felt his ears twitch when you opened your mouth, muffled and sleepy, a pang of sadness in your voice.

“Please don’t break my heart.”

He pretended to be asleep.

————————————————————-

He was gone when you woke up. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting, but cracking your eyes open to the lazy sunrise and the emptiness of your bed was as painful as a bullet in your spine. You felt embarrassed, looking down at the marks of your skin as you scrubbed away the night in the bath, running a warm flannel over your skin so many times that your flesh turned red. You felt ashamed; ashamed that you hadn’t listened to your best friend and ashamed that you had put your trust in someone that you knew would hurt you.

But deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t deny that you still liked him, still wished that he was with you. You knew it was wrong but you forgave him. You knew he had to leave early; perhaps he hadn’t slipped out the way you had thought, perhaps he had truly wanted to stay. You felt foolish and young and weak, but you missed the feeling of his lips and his skin, the weight of his hips against yours.

Two full weeks passed by until he showed up again. There were no calls, no surprise bouquets or impromptu visits, just the lingering feeling of shame on your body. You didn’t say anything to Ada, too mortified to admit that you had slept with her brother and he had run out before you had woken up. You knew that he was the one in the wrong, he was the one who deserved to feel like shit for treating you that way, but that didn’t stop the pounding of your own insecurities.

Rich raspberry wine and candied cherries, these were the remedy for a broken heart. You were sitting cross legged on the sofa, the radio crackling behind you, soft jazz lulling you into a relaxed daze. You were sewing the hem of one of your dresses, threading the needle and watching the stitches close. You had already downed two glasses of wine, loving the taste and the burn in your belly, and you groaned when you heard two sharp raps on the front door.

“Ron, did you forget your keys again?” You huffed, expecting to see your forgetful neighbour waiting for you, but almost catching your fingers in the door when you realised who it was instead.

“Hi.”

Piercing blue eyes and a jawline that could slice your palm, two things that you simultaneously adored and loathed. His hand curled around the door as you tried to slam it shut, pushing against you so it couldn’t be closed.

“Fuck off.”

“Please. Please. (Y/N).”

“No Tommy - Thomas. Fuck!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t give a shit.” You lied.

“Please just let me explain.” He said and you huffed, trying your hardest to not look at him for too long, it was like looking directly into the sun: painful and disappointing.

“I - No.”

“Please.”

Fuck him and that fucking voice.

You opened the door a crack, enough for him to slip through and into your flat. He looked so dark amongst the bright colours of your crockery and the yellow tulips planted on your windowsill. You moved backwards, trying to make yourself as small as possible, ignoring the ache growing inside of you, the ache to run into his arms and forgive him.

“I’m sorry for the way I left.” He scratched his forehead and cleared his throat, the sound echoing around the room. “There’s no excuse.”

“You made me look like a twat, Tommy.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” You said, but you weren’t sure if you meant it, liking the vulnerability in his words, the tenderness of his voice soothing you despite your inner anger.

He lifted his palm to run through his hair, jet black coat cloaking over him like a shadow. You saw it then, under the light of the blue moon, a gash tearing through the skin on his wrist.

“You’re bleeding.” You stated, and you saw his eyes widen slightly, looking at the wound on his arm as if he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Huh.”

“God, Tommy.” You inhaled, sucking air through your teeth, “Let me clean it, it looks like it needs stitches.” You hated yourself for giving in, knowing that the cut wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t like he was going to be leaving your flat in a stretcher, but you still cared for him, despite everything.

The smell of antiseptic wipes and the tangy metallic taste of blood filled your bathroom. You pressed on him a little too hard, smiling as he winced slightly. Neither of you spoke, letting the silence hang between the both of you, almost tangible. You could feel his eyes on you, those fucking sparkling eyes following the curve of your nose and the wave of your hair, lingering a little too long on your lips.

“I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You bit through the gauze, measuring it against his skin, anything to not meet his line of sight.

“I have a habit of ruining good things.”

You scoffed. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to fall for that line?”

“I thought you might hit me if apologised again.”

Against your better judgment, you laughed. “Yeah, I might have.”

His palm, warm and heavy and reminding you of the pressure of his body on top of yours, clasped over your own, making you still.

“Have I fucked everything up?” He asked. You didn’t say anything, not trusting your own voice. You felt the roughness of his fingertips circling your skin, languid like waves lapping across the shore. He inched closer towards you, smelling like fresh crisp apples and old cigarette butts, managing to always be the perfect mix of chaos and control. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You should have pushed him away, but you didn’t. You gave into the darkness of his blue eyes, the ring of lust forming around his pupils and the desire stirring in your belly like bubbling water. He tasted so sinful yet sweet and you were the perfect remedy for the terrible day he had, so receptive and angelic under his touch.

“If you rip your stitches, you’ll have to redo them yourself.”

He laughed into the soft, buttery flesh below your jugular, kissing your collarbones as his hands dragged you impossibly closer, lips crashing onto yours.

You fell asleep first. Hair cascading on your silk pillowcase, and he connected the freckles on your back like they were constellations. He could hear the gentle drip of the tap in the bathroom, and

the hum of the city around you. The noise in his head had stopped, but it still remained like a dull static in the back of his mind. He pushed it away though, focusing on the calming energy of your body and the tenderness of your touch.

He would be gone tomorrow.

He’ll let you wake up to him, he’ll drink the coffee in your kitchen and fuck you under the golden sunlight, open mouthed kisses shared in the confines of your apartment. But then he’ll leave again, giving you just enough to allow him to come back. He craved you, but it was medicinal, like a hit of opium when the shovels got too loud, not something he could afford to indulge in.

He looked over at you, fast asleep, your nose twitching slightly. He can’t give you what you want or what you deserve, but just for the night, in the quiet of your bedroom, with his hands on the curve of your hips, he’ll be the man that you want him to be.

—————————————————————-

His visits were sporadic and unpredictable. He would show up out of the blue, lurking around the back streets like a nomad, knocking on your door just before midnight, his hands covered in blood. On those nights you would clean him up, neither of you would speak as you washed away the crimson from his skin, rubbing ointment on the growing purple bruises on his knuckles. He would kiss you feverishly and wildly, desperate to feel your body so soft and pliant under his. Those nights he craved control, and you were the only person who would give it completely to him.

Sometimes he would show during the day, with a wide smile and an expensive suit, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He would take you to dinner or for walks down the canal, you might sit curled in his lap at the pictures or perhaps drive to a new city, his hand in yours, allowing you to pretend that you weren’t just the girl he came to when he wanted to feel something.

He would take you gently, almost romantically. In the back of his car or at a hotel that cost more for one night than your months rent, moulding your body under his like clay. He’d make you moan for him, the prettiest sound he’s ever heard, and he’ll relish in the attention you’ll give him. You’ll be the one thing that calms him after a hard days work, it’ll be your body and touch that unclench his fists and help calm his mind. He uses you like snow, strong, hard hits that leave him gasping for breath.

He’d always be gone before the sunrises. He’d wait for you to be asleep, hair around your head like a halo, lips puffy and swollen from clashing with his, fingertip shaped bruises across your hips. He’d never stay long enough to hear the disappointment in your voice, see the gloss that coats your eyes, the hurt pounding in your chest.

It stings like alcohol on a wound even when you’re expecting it. When you wake up and your bed is cold and empty, and your body is missing the warmth of his. You’ll give yourself a few moments to cry, take a scalding hot bath and scrub his smell from your flesh, tell yourself over and over that this is the last time. Never again. But you know as you make your way home, with a clouded head and aching legs, that the next time he shows up, you’ll let him stay.

———————————————————-

It had been almost a month.

A month of complete silence. You felt stupid but not surprised, the sadness nothing more than a dull pain in your chest now. You felt like you were just existing, not living. Constantly waiting for him to show up at your door and make your world start spinning again. You tried to distract yourself with work, but hearing the ladies gossip in the cafeteria about their loving boyfriends and amazing dates made the hole in your heart throb.

You hadn’t told Ada what had been going on, but she was your best friend, and you were certain she had already sussed it. You’d been skipping shifts at the library, spending more of your time cooped up in your flat or the hospital, opting for overnight shifts, anything to distract you from the loneliness of your bed.

Your cupboards were bare, cups of tea gone cold dotted all over your flat, and cobwebs starting to appear in the corners of your walls. You needed to go to the grocer and buy something that wasn’t bread or wine or chocolate. You were rooting through your purse, hands smelling like copper when you heard the shrill ring of your doorbell. Your heart stopped, but you didn’t get your hopes up; you were done waiting around for him like a bloody border collie.

You could see her silhouette behind the door, raven coloured ringlets and red lipstick. You sighed, running your fingers over the creases in your jumper before you opened the door, expensive french perfume wafting into your flat.

“You’re avoiding me.” She said sharply, waltzing inside, thick fur jacket brushing past you.

“No I’m not, Ada.”

“Yes you bloody are!”

You watched as she rummaged through your cupboards, pulling out two glasses and then flopping down on your sofa and patting the seat next to her. She grabbed a bottle of vodka from inside her handbag, almost bigger than your head, and she started to pour.

“Tell me everything.”

So you did. It was embarrassing and awkward, but damn did it feel good to get off your chest. Ada sat watching intently, pursing her lips and sighing when appropriate, burgundy nails tapping on your table when she got particularly annoyed. She threw her head back and finished her second glass, faint cherry red staining the rim.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit friend.” You apologised, gulping the remaining droplets of your own drink. “I just - God, I had no idea what to tell you.”

“You know you can tell me anything.” Her voice was ernest and for the first time in a long time you actually felt like you could breathe, Ada always had that effect on you. She had a way of making people feel comfortable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” You sighed, cradling your knees to your chest. “I was too embarrassed.”

“It’s not your fault, babe, Tommy’s a dickhead!” She shoved you lightly and you smiled halfheartedly. “And I would tell him that in person! Not that I’ve seen him since Grace came back.”

You felt your spine go rigid.

“Grace?”

Annoyance painted Ada’s face, and she pursued her lips like she was sucking on a lemon.“He didn’t tell you about her? That she came back?”

Not explicitly, but she had always been there. Ada had once told you about her brothers lover, the beautiful blonde vixen who had turned his world on its axis. That was partly why you were so hesitant, knowing you couldn’t compare to a woman like her, but Tommy had made you trust him, and look how that turned out.

Now you were slapped with the cold, hard truth, and it hurt.

She was the woman always on the tip of his tongue, the one that he saw when he closed his eyes. You were the body he used, the temporary buzz and the hit of pain relief, but she was the one he really wanted, the woman he pretended you were.

“No. Must have slipped his mind.” You laughed falsely, feeling tears build behind your eyes. You inhaled, your voice quiet. “But Grace - she was the one wasn’t she? You know, the one who...”

The one who broke his heart. The woman he loved, the woman he really wanted.

She hesitated, but then nodded sadly. “Yes.”

“God I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry baby.” Ada pulled you into her arms, cradling you against her chest like she was comforting her son. You let the tears fall, felt them cascading down your cheeks like a waterfall. Ada stroked your hair and pulled you close, and you closed your eyes, finally giving into the sadness.

———————————————————-

It was slow - the healing process. Falling back into a routine of work and chores, and eventually starting to laugh and smile again. You passed your final exam with flying colours, finally becoming a registered nurse. Ada was there with Karl, cheering you on when you left the hall with papers in your hands. You continued working at the library, hiding behind the bookshelves at the back with Ada, clutching your stomach from laughing so hard, your knees weak. You made new friends with the ladies at work, visiting clubs and bars on the weekends, trips to the pictures after a long day on the job. You even got asked out on a date, with a handsome doctor called Dennis who always made you a cup of coffee in the morning and saved you the donut with pink sprinkles he knew you liked.

It took time, but you were finally starting to feel the wound scab over, but of course, a hurricane in the form of a smart mouthed gangster was just enough to blow down everything you had worked so hard in repairing.

Three months of no contact had passed.

It was late. Hot water billowed around you as you stirred your tea bag, inhaling the sweet smell of cinnamon and lemon. You pulled your satin robe tight against your skin, admiring the soft blush pink colour and shuffling towards the bedroom in your matching slippers. You hummed as you turned down your bed, longing for the sweet embrace of your covers, but you were pulled from your daydream by pounding on your front door. You sighed, ignoring it and continuing to fluff your pillows, but when it didn’t stop, you frowned and stormed towards the assailant.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” You muttered, swinging the door wide open, but the words evaporated like ocean spray when you came face to face with the man you least wanted to see. It was such a cruel sense of deja vu, and you could feel your face growing red hot with anger.

“Get the fuck away from me.”

He ignored you, stepping over the threshold and back into your life. You held your hands up, defensively and aggressively, your brain not knowing whether to fight or fly. You inhaled loudly, you didn’t want to give in, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

“Please, Tommy. Just go.”

“I needed to see you.” His words were quick, raspy and urgent, but you brushed them off like they were nothing.

“You’ve seen me, now leave.”

“Not without speaking to you. Let me explain.”

“Was she busy?” You spat. “Is that why you’re here? She’s away so you think you’ll just come and see me and I’ll let you in? Let you touch me? Fuck you, Tommy.”

His eyes were wild, frustration painting his features. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like that?” You spat. “Not that you were using me as a tool to get over another woman? After everything I told you - ” You stopped, not wanting to think about your past. It was too painful.

He came closer, walking towards you so cautiously and softly you might have laughed. “Just hear me out.”

“Why the bloody hell should I listen to you?”

He shrugged exasperatedly, your words striking his skin like a branding, because you were right. He had no moral high ground or proper explanation for the way he had treated you.

“I’m fucked up. Too fucked up for you.” And he’s telling the truth. You’re so pretty and honest and kind, even when you’re crazy with rage, your whole body is practically buzzing with anger and you’re still so beautiful and light and he knows that he ruined you. You trusted him, you confided in him, and he still left.

“I can’t believe I was falling so such a goddamn righteous asshole!” You seethe, raking a hand through your hair. His eyes widened but you merely scoffed, if looks could kill he would have been swallowing dirt. “Don’t act like you didn’t know. Don’t act like you have no idea what I was feeling for you.”

He didn’t know what to say, and he could his stone cold heart breaking.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You sniffed. “This is the last time I want to see you.”

“Just let me stay, let me make it up to you.”

He moves closer, wanting to feel your hair between his fingers, the soft embrace of your touch and the sweetness of your lips. Things had been going wrong all day, the business struggling and the cops getting suspicious and all he could think about was holding you. He wanted to try, he needed to feel you, he needed to feel something real. He wanted to apologise, pull you under him and make the both of you forget. For one more night he didn’t want to be Tommy Shelby, he just wanted to be the man who got to hold you.

You inhaled. “I’m seeing someone else.”

He felt a knife slice through his abdomen. He had no right to feel the shock and jealousy prickling through his skin, not after what he had done, but he still felt the raging green envy bubbling inside of him. He was being completely unreasonable and cruel, but a part of him had really hoped you would wait for him, but it’s that unfair mentality that had cost him.

“What?”

“I’m seeing someone - someone from work.” You said, finally gaining the nerve to stand up for yourself, wanting to wash away six months of your life you had given to him. “We’ve been going out for the past few weeks.”

“Who is he?” His tone was more demanding than he meant it to be, the shock and twinge of insecurity he felt from your announcement was making his words sharper.

“You don’t get to ask me that.”

He needed to take back control of the conversation, he needed to explain. He knew just how much he had fucked up, he’d been gone for too long this time, and his own selfishness might have cost him the best thing he had going for him. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“No, you just never meant for me to find out.”

“That’s not true, (Y/N). Listen to me, I - ”

“I have a busy day tomorrow, Thomas.” You said firmly, putting your foot down and refusing to let him try to right his wrongs - you had worked too hard on moving on. The hidden meaning in your words made Tommy’s jaw clench, his hands reflexively flinching at his sides. “So, please, just... just go.”

You were crying, but trying so hard to hide it. He could see the gloss coating your eyes and the flush rising from your chest, as though your body was leaking sadness from every pore. He felt his heart pound against his ribs. He was so used to getting what he wanted, in business and in private, and yet he felt like he might have just lost it all. So he turned and left, shutting your front door and trying to tune out the sound of your sobs, feeling even more empty inside then when he had arrived.

—————————————————————

He finally got what he wanted.

Grace was sitting opposite to him, her knees brushing against his, her smell so familiar and dizzying, but yet it didn’t feel right. She was a vision in a sea foam dress, with her sunshine coloured hair and perfect features, her eyes filled with a million stars that he could once spend hours getting lost in, but not anymore.

It felt so fake, so forced. The conversation didn’t flow, his words were stagnant, getting caught in his throat. She was looking right at him, the same way she did when they would wake up tangled in one another, at a time in his life that he used to think he was the happiest.

But maybe that had changed.

He was finding pieces of you in her. He knew that Grace only drank red wine, but out of habit he almost poured her a glass of bourbon; because that was what you liked. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, the same way you did. How the shawl draped over her shoulders would look perfect on you.

He was sitting across from the woman of his dreams, but none of it felt right, because she wasn’t you.

Perhaps his dreams had changed.

He tuned out Grace as she spoke, her voice not calming him as it once had. All he could think about was what he had lost. He had been a prick, he knew that for certain. He hadn’t meant to not call you, to leave you in the lurch like he did, he just didn’t like anyone getting too close.

When he was in Birmingham he was the leader of the Blinders. He was smart and strong and thought things through so nobody else had to. He was the kingpin, the man who ruled with an iron fist and got exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. But with you, in London, he had allowed himself a sliver of peace. He let himself sleep next to you, peach coloured moon dancing over your bodies, curtains blowing in the wind. After a long day he found himself driving to see you. Wanting to see that shy smile that would make his knees buckle, feeling like a teenager even when he had beat a man half to death mere hours before.

You were a forest fire. Just a small spark, the smell of your hair, the velvet of your skin, the sound of your laugh, and his entire world was alight. He remembered taking you out, the feel of your small hand against his, genuinely wanting to know how your day had been. He remembered the sound of your laugh, when he had you pressed up against the window of his car, in between ticket stubs and cigarette butts and road maps, unable to stop the grin making its way onto his own face.

Even in the months he was gone; when Campbell came back and turned his world back to shit, in the quiet of his office, his mind always wandered back to you. He thought about you whenever he saw fog rolling over the hills or he felt rain patter across his shoulders, he would lose himself for a moment and his brain would conjure up a picture of you. When he saw John and Esme at the Garrison, soft gentle touches reserved for one another, that stupid dopey grin on his brothers face, he thought of you.

It was more than just sex and he was a fool for thinking that that was all it had been.

“Tommy? What’s the matter?”

It was Grace. Her voice like ripe berries and warm milk, but entirely wrong. He blinked, remembering where he was, feeling the velvet of the sofa under his suit. She smiled when she realised she had captured his attention, slightly smug and self assured, and she continued her story of the joys of living in New York.

Tommy looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since they had met up. Here they were, in a five star hotel room outside of Birmingham, with champagne and caviar and imported chocolates. But she’s married, to somebody else. And yet, she had rang him and expected him to drop everything and join her.

He almost laughed at the irony of the situation.

Grace was like the first sunshine after being caught in a storm, but perhaps he’d grown to like the rain. He’d been chasing her for too long, like a fucking puppy, and now she was sitting centimetres apart from him, and he realised that she didn’t look all that magical. He thought about the anguish he felt when she left, the pure heartache that almost split him in two when he found out she had married another man, the pain of sleeping alone once more - and it makes him falter, because that’s exactly the same way he’d treated you, and you deserved so much more.

He knew Grace wanted. She wanted to fuck. She wanted to feel something other than her pathetic new husband, she craved the feel of power and the memory of what it’s like to run around with the devil. Her hand moved from the stem of her wine glass to the top of his thigh, a gentle, almost timid touch, testing the waters before she fully submerged. This is what he’d wanted since the very minute she boarded that train, to be back with the woman he loved, but now her soft caress feels like a slap. She didn’t notice his internal struggle, wine drunk and ready to fall back into his arms, but all he could picture was you with another man, his hand resting on the silk of your skirt.

He felt the familiar tick in his jaw, the way his knuckles flexed unconsciously, he knew he had no right but jealousy was eating away at him. How fucking stupid had he been? And now another man would have the pleasure of taking you out, making you laugh and blush under diamond chandeliers. Another man would get to walk you home, listen to your voice and then kiss you under the silver moon. He couldn’t even bear to think of the next part, the mere thought making flames ignite around his pupils.

“Tommy?” Grace asked, her eyes big and round like saucers, lips parted and just waiting to be pressed against his. She watched as he stood up, his knees clashing against the bar cart, far more flustered than she had ever seen him before.

“I have to go.”

———————————————————-

The club was loud, the bands instruments following you everywhere you went. The room was painted red and gold, shimmering lights and glowing pink shades reflecting from every surface. You were in a booth in the corner, nursing a glass of bourbon and eating sweet green olives, vinegar and alcohol on your tongue. Dennis was sat opposite, clad in a fine suit with a fresh haircut and laughing at his own anecdote, his hands gesturing wildly as he retold a story you had already forgotten.

You liked him, you did. He was nice and funny and handsome, - but he didn’t make sparks dance on your skin when he touched you, and he didn’t occupy your mind every second you were apart. Maybe that was for the best, maybe you needed to be sensible and date with your head, not your heart, because that was why you always got hurt.

You mind had been muddled since Tommy came back. All of your hard work had crumbled to pieces when he had knocked on your door. It was beyond frustrating, the way that he managed to crawl back inside your conscience with just a few words. You tried to blink away everything that happened, focusing on Dennis sitting on the other side of the booth, losing yourself in his kind smile and bright eyes.

He reached out and patted your hand with his, and you noticed how smooth his fingers were, not like the rough calloused pads that you could remember digging into your thigh and - you stopped, determined not to let your mind wander. You weren’t being fair to Dennis, he deserved someone who would give him their undivided attention, and didn’t spend the evening think of another man.

You let Dennis order another round of drinks, the conversation coming back round to the hospital - the only thing you seemed to have in common. You were just about to ask after a patient who you had heard wasn’t fairing very well, when you heard a commotion coming from the main hall. You raised your eyebrows and twisted around, trying to get a better view but you were blocked mostly by the sea of bodies. You turned to look at Dennis, but watched his own gentle brown eyes fill with shock.

“I need to talk to you.”

Fucking hell.

You felt flames licking your skin and ice cold water on your head at the same time. That stupid brummie accent that made your toes curl even after all the shit he had put you through. You saw surprise flash across Dennis’ face, his brows knitted at the stranger who had approached your booth. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but you didn’t want the situation to get out of hand. You risked it. Swivelling in your seat so you could see him fully, your eyes flittering over the curls in his hair and the dammed sea blue colour of his irises.

“Tommy.” You kept your voice as level as you could, but it was proving hard. “Tommy, what the hell are you doing here?”

“We need to talk, come outside with me.”

His stare was so heated that it almost made you feel uncomfortable, and his hair was tousled, the way it always got when he ran his hands through it repeatedly. You could tell he was jealous, not missing the way his eyes had darted to Dennis’ hand covering your own. You could see the clench of his jaw and the tension in his forehead and it made you feel good, it was about time he had a taste of his own medicine.

“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you.” Dennis said, rising from his chair so he could meet Tommy’s line of sight. You reached out and squeezed his wrist slightly, willing him not to get involved, not for your sake, but for his own.

“I’ve had a a really fucking long day and I think that it’s best if you don’t piss me off.” Tommy spat, his voice husky and exasperated, pointing a finger across the table. Coming face to face with you and your new lover was enough to tear the strings that were holding him together, he wasn’t a patient man and all he wanted was to explain himself, but it was hard when he was in such a jealous haze. His mind and his mouth weren’t working as one, he was losing his composure, and quickly.

“Stop it.” Your voice was stern, cold enough to turn him to stone. You could feel dozens of eyes on you, watching you all like you were performing at a play, mouths agape and eyes wild with anticipation. You blinked up at Tommy and you could see him soften, the hurt evident in your features enough to make him want to tear out his hair, furious at himself for how he always fucks things up.

You turned to Dennis, heart clenching as he held his ground despite being much smaller and a million times less intimidating then the gangster behind you. You gave him an apologetic look, knowing that the only way to diffuse the bomb that was Thomas Shelby was to speak to him alone.

“Thank you for everything, Dennis.” You said, shaking your head at the insanity of it all. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me for how this evening has turned out.”

He brushed off your words, as gentlemanly as ever, shooting a harsh look at Tommy. “Are you sure you’re alright going with him?”

You could see Tommy open his mouth to spit back something, his hands clenched at his sides, but you pushed him roughly in the torso and stormed past, heading for the back doors.

Your face was hot and red with shame, you could still taste alcohol on your tongue, but it had turned bitter and sour. You could hear him behind you, his expensive shoes clattering on the cobbled streets, his heavy exhales in the dark. He reached out, his touch timid and reserved despite the scene he had just created. At the feel of his fingers on your upper arm you pushed him off, walking further away into the alley.

“(Y/N)!) He called, but you ignored him, wiping away your tears before swirling on your heel, voice laced with venom.”

“It wasn’t enough for you to break me back at my flat?” You shouted, hearing your heart shatter with every syllable. “You had to come and do it in public too? What the fuck is wrong with you Tommy?”

“I know. I know.” He came towards you but you stumbled back, holding up a finger to keep him away from you. “I shouldn’t have made a scene.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You cried, it was hard enough to even try to get over him, but now he was making it impossible and you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“I’m in love with you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now. It was the words you had been begging him to say, the words that you had wanted to hear since you had first met, but they just made you weep harder. His face was so ernest, more honest than you had ever seen it, but it was so goddamn hard to believe him.

“You’re not in love with me, Tommy.” You murmured, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “You just want me because you saw me with another man.”

He shook his head, reaching out to touch you under the yellow glare of the streetlights. The feeling of you in his arms was so right to him, so familiar and warm that it felt like coming home. The tear streaks on your cheeks shone like the stars above the two of you, so beautiful and so heartbreaking and he needed to let you know how he felt.

“I’m in love with you.” His voice was firm, and even though you wanted to you couldn’t look away from him, trapped in his gaze. “It’s always been you. And I should have told you sooner.”

You stopped, everything you had wanted to say evaporated like ocean spray around the two of you, the water crashing so loud you could hear it in your ears. You were tired, and confused, half of you wanted to slap him and the other half wanted to fall into his arms. Instead, you sat down on the curb, feet planted in the gutter, dropping your head in your hands.

“I need a cigarette.”

Tommy smiled. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his packet and a lighter, giving you a smoke before lighting the end, watching the flame flicker in your eyes. You took three long drags, trying hard to control your breathing and rivalling emotions before you spoke again.

“How did you find me?”

He inhaled, puffing on his own cigarette. “I’ve had men watching you since the first time we met.”

You snapped around to face him. “You’ve fucking what?”

“You really think I was going to let you go around the city without protection?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

The silence was deafening and you hated how you instinctively wanted to move by his side, press your body up against his for warmth. Instead you looked up at the navy coloured sky, counting the stars and pretending you couldn’t feel him watching you.

“I fucked up.” He spoke. “ I used you and I hurt you.”

You bit your lip to try and stop the tears from falling once again.

“I was heartbroken because of Grace, and I needed a distraction.”

“A distraction.” You repeated.

“I’m sorry. It’s redundant now, I know. But I am. I fucked everything up and I’m sorry.”

The tension between you was almost palpable, like the nicotine that was surrounding you both. You could feel the sincerity in his tone, but you also knew that he could talk a man out of his house if he really wanted to.

“Did she turn you down?” You countered, facing him. “Is that why you’re here with me?”

He shook his head, tongue running over his teeth, wisps of smoke leaving his lips. “I saw her for the first time tonight.” He said, honestly. “I sat across from her and I realised that she meant nothing to me, not anymore.” You felt him beside you, the pressure of his thigh digging into yours, desperate to get you to look at him.

“It was just sex.” You muttered, looking for some kind of safety net to stop you from making the same mistake, no matter how badly your heart is pleading you to fall onto him.

“Don’t fucking say that. Don’t lie to me.” He stammered, as though your words had truly hurt him.

“You treated me like shit, Tommy. How can I ever trust you?”

“I can’t promise I won’t fuck something up. I’m a bad man and I do bad things, but I swear, right, on my fucking life - that I will never do anything to hurt you.”

He was so close to you. The strong man so weak as he brushed his nose against yours. He felt years younger, and felt the overwhelming ache to drag you into his arms and kiss you senseless.“I need you with me. I can’t do any of this without you - And will spend every day proving to you just how much you fucking mean to me.” He whispered, words trailing off into the

crown of your hair.

You couldn’t stop it. All of the warning bells in your head extinguished like candles, and all you could think about was him. He had hurt you, dug a knife into your rib cage and left you to bleed, and perhaps a better woman would have left him sitting in the gutter, but you knew that the two of you were bound together - just as beautiful and broken as one another.

You shook your head, looking up at him through your eyelashes, the man who had turned your life upside down. You didn’t want to think anymore - so you didn’t, instead you smashed your lips onto his, making his head spin wildly, losing himself in you.He’s always had a high tolerance, but somehow, just one touch, just the brush of your lips against his, the heat of your breath on his skin, has him utterly, completely, wasted

“Please don’t break my heart.” You said, reminiscent of the first time you had slept together, pressing your forehead against his. He breathed you in, the smell of violets and salt, warm coffee and vanilla, the scents that he wished he could bottle. He pressed his lips to yours, claiming you as his as much as proving he was yours. He relished the taste of you, his kisses greedy and passionate, making sure that you were still there and knowing that he would never let you go again.

“I won’t.”

And it’s a promise he’ll keep.

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby oneshot #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders oneshot #fic #orion writes

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sckyie · 4 years ago

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𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚜 | 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝟼: 𝚓𝚘𝚢

You weren't able to return back to school just yet. Today though, you wanted to meet up with Oikawa. It was your only chance other than Maiya to remember your friends. You waited patiently at the gate, twiddling your thumbs.

Iwaizumi was clueless of his friend's plot. Usually, after class, Oikawa would meet Iwa in the yard. Instead, he sped past his friend. "Sorry Iwa-chan, I don't want to be late for my date!" He rushed.

"Date, my ass," Iwaizumi grumbled. Behind approached his other friends, including Maiya. "Hey, guys."

"Do you wanna join us to get noodles Iwa?" Makki asked.

"What's the occasion?" He asks.

"Chiba's upset about Y/n, we just want to cheer her up," Mattsun says.

"Sure, Shittykawa has a 'date' according to him," Iwaizumi gestured with his hands. "Let's go."

Oikawa meets you before his friends make it out to the gate. You had pulled out your notebook and scribbled more notes on the pages. He glances over to see you writing the time school ends and what the uniform looks like. "Hey, Y/n-chan!" He greets. You jump slightly and wave at him. "Did you wait long?"

"Kind of?" You check your phone for the time. "I got here an hour ago. Are you ready to go?"

"An hour!? Y/n you're going to get sick, why'd you come so early?" The two of you chatted about the school on your way to your house. You asked about classes, teachers, and how involved you were in class.

Once inside your house, you watch as your parents greet Oikawa by his first name. He makes small talk with them before he follows you into your room. You seat yourself on the bed while Oikawa sits at your desk. He notices the empty spots on your wall where your photos with Iwaizumi were. "So what do you want to know?"

"Tell me who my friends are," You ask. "I know about Chiba but I don't know anyone else."

"Oh well-" Oikawa points out a photo from your second year at Seijoh. "That's me, Iwa-chan, Makki, Mattsun, and Chiba."

"Iwa, he was with you last time right?" You ask. "I have notes with his name on them." Oikawa watched as you got up and pulled notes out from your bedside table.

Oikawa examined his friend's messy writing and an idea popped into his head. "You know, Iwaizumi and you were really close," He says.

"Really? Can you tell me about him?" You tilted your head.

"Definitely," Oikawa smiled. "What do you want to know?"

"Just tell me about any important memories with him," You grabbed a pillow as you seated yourself. Hugging the pillow in your front, you patiently waited for Oikawa to think of a memory.

"Oh, I got one! It's about when we all went to the New Year's light festival last year," He smiled.

You drove your dad's van to pick up Iwaizumi and the rest of the group. This was the year Maiya started to like Matsukawa. You hummed the tune to Iwa and your song as you arrived at Oikawa's house. Iwaizumi seats himself in the front as Oikawa happily sat behind you. "Hi babe," Iwa leaned over and kissed your cheek.

"Aww, Iwa-chan where's my kiss?" Oikawa pouted.

"Back off Shittykawa," You growled.

Three stops later, you gathered the group to go to the light festival in Sendai. It was a cold night, thankfully Iwaizumi held you close to keep you warm. He even gave you his jacket to wear over yours when he caught you shivering.

"Here are photos from the festival," Oikawa showed you his phone album. You grabbed the phone to examine the pictures. "This one is you and Iwa-chan."

"Oh my god! Babe, can we take a picture here?" You pointed at the flower arch with pink lights. "Tooru, take our picture."

You dragged Iwaizumi to the arch, smiling with glee. Iwa stood behind you wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You looked up at him and pursed your lips. He leaned down and planted a light kiss on your lips.

"I love you," He whispered pulling away. Instantaneously your cheeks flushed red and you hid your face in your scarf. You turn to face him properly and you cupped his cheeks. "Gah! Your hands are cold, let go, babe!"

"That's the first time you said I love you," You whispered.

"Don't be soft about it when it's true," Iwa blushed. "Hey! Stop taking photos now, Stupidkawa!"

You moved your hands away from his cheeks down to his shoulders. You leaned up and placed your lips on his. "I love you too, Haji," You whispered.

"Hey what happened here?" You showed a photo of Matsun holding Maiya back from Oikawa.

"Get over here you little shit!" Maiya growled.

"Chiba I said I'm sorry! Makki protect me- Y/n why are you taking photos of this!?" Oikawa yelled.

"You ate her food, I'm just taking photos to remind you to never do that," You chuckled. You flipped the camera on Oikawa's phone to take pictures with Iwaizumi. "Baby smile."

"Hey! Stop taking pictures on my phone!" Oikawa goes to grab his phone.

"Oh, I locked your phone. Here," You say. "It seems like Iwaizumi and I were really close. Were we best friends or something?"

"Something like that," Oikawa stated. The rest of the night, Oikawa began to tell you stories of you and your friend group. Unfortunately, none of it recalled any memories within your mind. Though all the stories he told of you and Iwaizumi made you feel something fuzzy inside. The way he spoke greatly of Iwaizumi made you believe that everything was fine between you two.

But it wasn't. Iwaizumi on the other hand had just finished going out with the group. As Makki and Mattsun finished their meal, Maiya excused herself to calm down outside. Ever since your accident, she's tried every day for you to remember your friendship. The thought of being an erased memory shook her and it would cause her to breakdown easily.

Maiya stood outside the restaurant, breathing heavily. Her eyes welled up with tears as the memories of you filled her mind. "Chiba, you okay?" Iwaizumi called out. Maiya refused to look up at him. "Matsukawa was worried but he wanted me to check on you. Is everything alright?"

"We were together that night," She muttered. "She was crying and I didn't stop her from leaving...Y/n was right there, beside me and I- I let her go. I told her to drive safe- I told her everything would've been fine...I-" Hot tears began to stream down her face as she crouched to her knees.

"Chiba, it'll be okay. The good part is Y/n is alive, and according to the doctor amnesia won't be forever," Iwa bent down to comfort her.

"But it might. You don't understand Iwaizumi," Maiya cried. She looked up and grabbed his collar. "You're the one who wanted her out of your life. I didn't ask for this!"

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synopsis: it's always hard to recover from heartbreak, but how can you recover from something you can't even remember?

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @d0llpie @elianetsantana @kaashikoi @hi-kenam @officiallykuute @moonlightaangel

a/n: if u cant tell italics are flashbacks

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x you #hq x you #haikyuu iwaizumi #hq iwaizumi #Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi fanfic

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years ago

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Switching Sides: Part 15 (HLITF)

if anyone possibly wants to get on a tag list I’d be happy to make one

👉@theshove 👈

👉@kamyru 👈

If you wanna catch up, Part 14 is right here! Happy reading :)

And I just want to thank everyone that’s been consistently reading this fic, I know it’s a slow burn but I think it’ll be worth it :D

Premise: Growing up in a life of crime in a Japanese mafia, Atsuko Motomori has seen enough injustice to last her a lifetime. To try and give back to the universe her family has taken so much from, she dreams of being a detective from a young age. Her twin, sharing her disgust for her father and many uncles, just wants an ordinary life away from the crime, paing and suffering. Instead, she wants to be in the spotlight with the soft notes she makes with her cello. In their escape of 2015, on their coming of age birthday, they must split ways, never to be together ever again. If one was found, they didn’t want the other dragged down with them. Atsuko, having changed her name and appearance as best she can without a scalpel, sets off to start her life of car chases and arrests.

Four years in a seemingly dead-end police station in the middle of nowhere, being passed over time after time for promotion, Atsuko finally gets a shot at her dream, having been sent to an academy for the best candidates in the country by her boss who had always kept an eye out for her. After discovering her boss may have made her bite off more than she could chew, Atsuko must become the slave of a dominating instructor!? Who so just happens to be the captain of the most famous police unit in Japan? Not to mention a total knockout! Will Atsuko finally achieve her dream? Or will her new instructor put her through the wringer?

Warnings: Language, Reference to sexual activity, Forceful nature, Abuse, Kidnapping, Torture.

~~~~~~

Early the next morning, I dressed in my loungewear to go to Juna's apartment. She had an outfit of her's waiting for me; I didn't own anything pink like the dress code she wanted. Grabbing a quick bite from the canteen and a coffee, as I have now remembered the difference between tea, I get the train to her apartment.

"Katsumi! You're here!" Juna bounced towards me, or as best she could under the weight of her almost grown baby, and stole the cake box I was balancing in one hand, holding my bag to my side with the other.

"Sorry I'm late, the metro was hectic." I sighed, kicking off my shoes as she shuffled back to the kitchen counter. There, I saw Kanto hurriedly putting up bunting. When he saw me, he directed his gaze to the space under the stairs where a set of drawers sat. Curiously, I stepped towards it, opening the top draw while Juna was distracted and found the ring I wanted. Pulling it out, I slipped it into a pocket in my bag.

"Your dress is in the bathroom if you wanna change!" Juna called over her shoulder as she pulled a box of strawberries out of the fridge, planning to chop them up.

"Sure thing!" I called back, knowing my way around the apartment since I lived here for months.

The dress in question was somewhat short and pastel pink. There was an upside-down triangle cut out of the back, the top half was tight and anything below the top of my hips was flowing. It was surprisingly comfortable, even if I felt like walking cotton candy.

"Told ya you'd like it!" Juna squealed in joy when she saw me emerge with a light blush on my face.

"It's not horrific." I pouted and went to help decorate the small balcony outside to escape her complimentary pestering.

~~~~~~

Once the arrival time for the party came around, more and more people started showing up. I didn't even think to ask my sister how many people were coming, but I sure as hell didn't think it would be this many people. There were so many, I was getting a little warm and the number of times I had to dart out of the way, getting my earring caught in my hair in the mad rush, I decided to put it up. I was bestowed with the job of answering the door so, when it rang again, I jumped up with a sigh. Because I was so used to seeing faces I didn't know, having everyone comment on how alike my twin and I looked, I was shocked when all the instructors showed up on the other side.

"In-Instructors, you made it?" I blushed when I saw them all in their casual clothes, instantly anxious when I remembered the outfit I was wearing. They all obeyed Juna's wish of them wearing pink or blue, all of varying degrees of severity, except for one. Can you guess who it was?

"Com... Come in. You can leave your shoes here." When I realised I had been staring, I jumped out the way to let them in. ‘God, Katsumi. Keep your cool!’ I internally screamed as I watched them filter in. Then, I directed them to the food when Juna finally approached us.

"Detectives, I'm so glad you could make it! I hope you enjoy yourselves. There's beer in the fridge, so have at it. There's plenty to go around!" Seemingly much more used to the instructors than I am, or she's just more sociable, Juna had a bright smile on her face. "Detective Kaga, you're not wearing blue." She frowned at the one person in the room not giving in her wishes.

"Juna, please." I begged her not to embarrass me as Kaga 'tsk'ed to himself. Then, he extended his hand to her, which held a paper bag. She took it and looked in to find a gift.

"Kaga, this is so cute! Look at it, Katsu." She squealed at the small bear with beady black eyes. It was kinda adorable and I blushed at the fact my sternly faced mentor had gifted it. The tag still attached to it said it was a nanny cam. My embarrassed and confused gaze fell to him and he sneered.

"My niece liked it."

‘Is he... pouting?’ It was almost too strange to tell with the faint blush on his face. ‘Is he already drunk? Wait! He has a niece?’ My blush deepened as I imagine how Kaga might act with a child to know her so much to know her favourite toy.

“Did none of your friends come?” Soma interjected my thoughts from beside me, seeing as Juna had gone to Kanto in the kitchen. I almost jumped out of my skin, but only because I was scared he could read my mind.

“Oh, no. No they… They were busy.” I quickly made up a pathetic lie, not wanting to throw Naruko under the for being afraid of the instructors. “Anyway, can I get you guys any drinks? Like Juna said, we’ve got beer, soda, water?” I listed off a few options so I could just escape this cluster of men, and even more people started to swarm us at their appearance.

“How does Juna know such good looking, young men?” A very forward older woman instantly clutched Instructor Goto’s arm, either drunk or that was just her rich nature. I instantly started panicking again.

“U-Um, Miss, they’re my bosses. Please… Please let go of him.” I was frantic as the instructor looked increasingly uncomfortable because of her flirtations. Almost everyone here was Juna’s work friends or spouses of, so they were all high standing members of society, not anyone I ever expected to mingle with.

When the woman just wouldn’t let go of him, I decided it was time to amp it up a gear. “Actually, I think your husband was talking to the composer’s daughter by the bathroom.” I gestured to an older man and a girl around my age talking up a storm on the other side of the spacious room, and the woman almost simultaneously stormed over.

After profusely apologising to Goto for what he already had to go through after just arriving, with the instructors still around us, Shinonone expressed how shocked he was that I could diffuse the situation somewhat quickly.

“I used to work in a club downtown. It was part of my job to get a feel for relationships in the room. O-Of course, you saw me working.” I was almost sweating with how nervous I was, remembering how rude I was to the instructor when he didn’t even know it was me at the time. Ayumu smirked at the memory of the interaction, and probably what I was wearing then too.

Luckily, Juna called me away to help her with something before I could be teased further.

~~~~~~

Later on in the party, I felt the need to step outside and take a breather, so I headed to the balcony and was surprised to find no one there. It was spring, the weather; surprisingly warm, and the flowers Kanto had been growing for Juna were in full bloom.

With my elbows resting on the railing, I suddenly realised what Kaga being here means. "I passed." I gasped, my heart filling with pride and doing a little dance to try and expel my joy. A rush of relief flooded over me and I don't think I've been happier than that moment. Not just relieved, but happy.

"It's been a while since I've seen that dance." A man's voice spoke up behind me and I turned in curiosity. For a moment, I truly believed it was one of my captors, but my vision quickly corrected it to Noburu. My heart raced as I saw him standing in the doorway, eyes wide. I hadn't seen him in a month. I was never told of him visiting. I was a little angry, he hadn't even texted me. But, above all else, I was scared. He sent alarm bells ringing in my head as if he really was the captor that fed me. That stood by and watched as I deteriorated into a heap of weeping bruises.

"No...Noburu. What are you doing here?" I panicked, stepping back and finding the railing block me from going over the edge. In an instant he was in front of me, holding my face as tears grew in my eyes.

"I missed you so much. I went to visit but you freaked out. I was so worried." His face was so close all I could see was him as he held my cheeks, his fingers extending into my hair, which I had let down again. I struggled, the image of that man seared in my brain.

When he saw me trying to get away, he crashed his lips on mine, taking my breath and any words I wanted to say to reject him. I tried to tug on the hands that kept me in place, but he wouldn't let go. His grip was vice-like. When he parted his lips to breath, I was able to whimper out "stop".

After I said that, he went to kiss me again, but he was pulled off me by someone yanking on his collar. There, holding the bewildered Noburu, was Kaga, rage painting his face. Embarrassed and afraid, I covered my mouth to hide my tears and sobs, darting by them, careful not to fall in my short heels as my legs shook.

~~~~~~

Bored out of my mind with all the aristocratic assholes Katsumi's sister was friends with, I decided to find the servant I found so fun to tease. My gaze flew around the room to find women surrounding most of the men from the PSD, except Goto who looked as bored as I was. Then, my gaze found the glass balcony doors and the woman I'm looking for. She was talking to a man, someone who looked dishevelled and not belonging to this group of people. Then, I noticed the tremble in her lip and her wide, astonished eyes watering out of... fear? I decided to head over and check if everything was alright.

When I opened the door, the man pounced on Katsumi, holding her face as he kissed her. A feeling in my stomach lit up my jealousy and anger as I watched them, but Katsumi seemed to be responding. I couldn't really tell when his hands were covering most of her face and his body was covering the rest of her.

As I turned to leave, I heard a low, high-pitched sound.

"Stop."

I spun around in a second, storming forward and gripping the back of the man's collar before yanking him off, possibly choking him in the process. I glared at him before checking to see if Katsumi was okay. Tears were falling down her face and the lipgloss she had on was smudged. Her hair was a mess and her knees were cowering a little. When she noticed what happened, her hand flew to her face and she ran back inside.

"Dude, what the hell?" The man who assaulted her frowned and my enraged glare returned to him. That was when I noticed it was the guy Katsumi used to work with at that club. I remembered watching her bend over the bar to talk to him, noticing how high her dress rode up her thighs, just shy of flashing everyone there. I growedl, remembering how much trust she must have had to talk to him the way Ayumu said she did.

"Get out or I concave your face." I threatened, dropping his collar. He was angry at first but when he saw how likely it was for me to do it, he ran to the front door.

~~~~~~

Stepping out of the bathroom, having cleaned myself up and calmed myself down enough to stop crying, I got to work; cleaning up the bottles and cans surrounding the room- mainly to distract myself. The party was still in full swing and I didn't want to ruin my sister's special moment. I could suck it up for now. All I wanted was for Noburu to be gone.

"Hey, idiot." A quiet voice erupted from behind me as I grabbed a few glass bottles from the counter in the kitchen, which was pretty vacant. I quickly recognised it at Kaga.

"I don't want to talk about it," I grumbled, not caring who he was in that moment.

"I kicked him out." He announced.

‘At least that's a relief.’ I sighed, feeling my tears return as I remembered how he had touched me. I trusted him. If he knew I had a breakdown the last time I had seen him, why would he still do that?

"Okay. I still don't want to talk about it." I complained, moving back and forth from the bin and the sink with trash and dishes to clean up later.

"Katsumi," Kaga said, but I ignored him, no matter how much him saying my name made my heart flutter. "Hey, moron." He grabbed my wrist as I dropped a few wooden skewers into the trash and spun me to see him.

"I'm not going to talk about it because I’ll cry. I'm not going to cry at my sister's baby shower." I gritted my teeth, returning his stern glare to try and make myself feel tougher.

"Why are you crying then?" He smirked and I sneered, noticing the wet drop roll down my cheek. I rushed to catch it with my unclaimed hand.

"He looks like one of them. Or he reminds me, anyway." I pouted, looking away from my instructor as he continued to hold my wrist. I'm sure he could feel my pulse race as my fear returned, mixed with the excitement of how close he was. I struggled to control my emotions when his grip tightened. I wasn’t intimidated. It was almost comforting, encouraging me to spill my guts right there in my sister's kitchen.

Suddenly, I was pulled towards him and enveloped in warmth and his scent. Slightly smokey, although whatever cologne he used did a good job of covering it up. I tried to look up from the chest I was being pushed against, but his hand settling on my head forced my gaze forward. My heart was pumping blood to my cheeks at an alarming rate and it was so loud I couldn't hear his. The pent up frustration I felt towards Noburu broke free from the weak dams I put up and my tears fell fast. My fist clenched on Kaga’s chest, angry that I had let someone I hardly knew so close. Before, I would have never gone out 'dates' with someone I enjoyed the company of- although I didn't really think of them in that way. I would have closed myself in my home, trying to keep to myself, not wanting to grow connections in case my father found me and I would have to leave everyone I had grown to love. It made it harder to justify how much safer I and those people would be if I left. I was mad at myself for letting go.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat in the doorway of the kitchen. I darted back, making sure to turn my back to wipe my eyes before turning back to cleaning, pretending like nothing had happened. "Juna wants to cut the cake." It was Ayumu who spoke up, walking over to the fridge, between me and Kaga. Too afraid to talk in case my voice wavered, I nodded and walked out the room, heading to the table everyone was surrounding.

~~~~~~

The party pretty much drew to a close after the gender reveal. It's a girl, but no one's surprised. Juna had been going on about it for weeks. Even before they could tell what the gender was.

"I'm gonna have a little Katsu of my own!" Juna cried with joy as she sat in front of the pile of gifts in front of her.

"At least give her a similar name. It'll be confusing if you give her the same as mine." I complained, picking up the wrapping paper she threw around the room. Thanks to my silent moment with Kaga, I was able to calm down enough to act normal for the rest of the party. All the instructors had gone home and it was just us and Kanto.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kanto asked as I walked into the kitchen with a trash bag in hand. He was cleaning the dishes while Juna enjoyed herself to her heart's content. I nodded, hoping I wasn't giving any signals that said otherwise.

"Well... I, um... I saw Noburu earlier." His voice was low, scared that if he told me he'd set me off again. I froze mid-way picking up the trash and recovered as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, he... He kissed me." My own voice was also low, afraid that if I said it aloud it would cement the end of our friendship. Kanto spun around to look at me and I tried to stop frowning. "It's fine... Kaga got him off me before I could spiral." I bit my lip, continuing my cleaning to distract myself.

"I'm sorry." Is all I hear Kanto mumble as I escape the room.

~~~~~~

That night, I returned to the dorm but found that I didn't want to sleep yet. My mind was racing, the ring my mother left for us in my fingertips as I sat on my couch. I looked for an engraving in the inside of the band. Nothing. The clear crystal, which I'm sure was a diamond; too small for me to tell if there was anything odd going on. There were several smaller ones dotted around it.

"Could it be to do with the make? Well, it's not like I can tell." I sighed. I hardly wore jewellery anyway. I was hopeless trying to find clues. "Maybe the detectives on the case discovered something?" I got up and made my way to one of the common rooms to use a computer.

It was the dead of night, so silent I thought I might have gone deaf. Luckily, the hallway lights were always on. Pulling out a chair, I brought the file up before I even sit down. The notes say that they found wording embedded in the jewels. Nano-sized. But they couldn't make any sense of it.

"Juno charges towards Juna, aiming for Katsu."

‘Well, that's not cryptic all.’ I sighed, slightly stunned to find both my and my sister's names. I decided my best bet would be to look up the meaning behind our names.

‘As a boy's name, Katsu means victory. Juna means woods and south. Could there be a battle in the woods or something?’ I frowned my brows, feeling wildly out of my depths and kind of silly for looking such things up on a school computer. Looking up the address of the murder, I looked at Google Maps because I knew I wouldn't be able to travel anywhere anytime soon. I dragged the picture south as far as I could, but nothing caught my eye.

The woman murdered, my mother's friend, it seemed, was found in a lake just outside Tokyo. Surrounded by woods.

"Oh?" I gasped when I s awthat there were cabins for sale in those same woods. They had been around for years, it seemed, and a community had been made there. With a small supermarket and diners, it looked like a 20 person village.

"Could she..?" I led off, wondering if my mother could have moved there to hide. "No, she'd be too close." But the fact irked me in a way that I wanted to check. There was a link to the real estate agents website. There, I found a phone number. Without thinking much, I called it, not considering how late after office hours it was.

"Thank you for calling Juna Estate Agents. We are always happy to answer your questions, but you've caught us after office hours. We open at 8 am every day, so please don't hesitate to ca-!" I hang up before the woman's voice on the voicemail can finish.

‘I shouldn't be doing this.’ I think. I know. I shouldn't be tempting myself with the idea. It would only get my hopes up and I'd only come crashing down when I exhausted all the leads I might find.

"She's dead." I reminded myself, pushing my father's questions to the back of my head, and turned off the computer.

~~~~~~~~~~

Monday came around and I was particularly exhausted. The last two nights had been the worst I had had in a while and I almost fell asleep cutting my own hair.

Heading to the cafeteria, notebook in hand, looking down at the floor, I was almost sleepwalking. Thankfully, I was pulled out of my dream-like state by a certain excitable morning person.

"Katsumi, you look so cute!" Naruko squealed upon seeing my now short hair. It was cut just shy of my shoulder, hugging the ear I pulled it behind. My hair was still white, too scared to dye it again in case I messed something up. Juna was always the one that did it for me and I didn't want to bother her.

"Thanks. It's easier to maintain this way." I laughed uneasily, hiding the true reason I prefered it short. My 'uncles' liked pulling on my hair. It’s hard to grab when it's like this. With a skip in her step, Naruko pulled me into the cafeteria.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I asked as we sat down, putting my heavy eyelids to the back of my mind.

"Chiba bought me a gift just because. It was so cute." She squealed, holding her cheeks as if her smile hurt. I cocked my head.

"Why’s he buying you gifts?" I asked before taking a spoonful of cereal.

"Oh shit, I didn't tell you?" She gasped and I shook my head, still chewing. "We're dating."

Instantly, I started choking at the gasp of air I took in when she told me. She asked me if I was okay and I put up a singular finger to tell her I'd just need a minute to recover.

"Si-Since when?" Taking the napkin she held out for me, I quickly wiped the milk covering the sides of my lips. I tried to ignore the fascinated stares of the male population around us.

"Hmm, a couple of months, I think? You'd have to ask him, he's the one that keeps track of it all." She waved of her unbothered-ness and continued eating as if I hadn't almost just died. "That reminds me, how was the party?"

Blushing, I tried to push the memory of Kaga holding me to the side as I reported how utterly bored I was for the rest of the event. "Her friends are all musicians, so they were mainly talking about their next concerts. Someone asked Juna if she was returning to the orchestra and she started balling." I forced a chuckle, really feeling sorry for my sister who couldn't accomplish the dream she wanted. She would have to settle to play for us and her daughter when she's old enough to play herself. I was sure Juna would push the joys of playing an instrument on her, or any future children she intended on having.

"What about the instructors?" Her wiggling eyebrows were enough to tell me she thought something kinky happened. I blushed but said I didn't notice because I was so busy. "You sure?" She dragged out her question, sliding into the seat next to mine, peering into my face. I stuffed my mouth with the rest of my cereal and jumped up, pointing to the door like I was in a rush to get to class. "You can't hide from me, Katsumi! I'm trained for this!"

~~~~~~

At the end of the day, I was sitting in the Instructor's Staff Room as usual, but couldn’t concentrate on my work. In the silence, my mind kept trailing to that clue my mother supposedly left for me. ‘Should I go looking for her? What if I end up leading someone to her? Could she be alive?’

As I thought, I didn't notice Kaga talking. Suddenly, I feel a blow on the back of my head and I jumped. "What're you spacing out for?" He glared down at me and I blushed an apology. When I tried to go back to work, he grabbed the arm of my spinning chair and directed it towards him, pinning me down by grabbing the other side.

"Are you still hung up on that kiss?" He whispered, his face incredibly close, gaze so strong I felt like I couldn't look away. "I can give you one if it helps you forget." The smirk on his face told me he was teasing, but I couldn't help my imagination run wild.

‘He's your instructor, Katsumi” That's not appropriate.’ I told myself off and shook my head 'no'.

"What're you spacing out for then?" He kept interrogating me, making no move to back down.

"I... I didn't get much sleep last night." I muttered, scared if I talked too loud I would stutter over every word.

"You have your pills. Take them." He demanded and I looked away, embarrassed I needed help to even sleep. I felt pathetic. When I didn't respond, Kaga stood up straight and returned to his office. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and returned to work, completely forgetting about any possibility of finding my mother.

~~~~~~

Working away at my desk, trying to distract myself from any thought about the woman sitting just outside my office, Ayumu stormed in with a stern look on his face.

"Someone keeps accessing a case file on the database." He dropped the papers on my desk after making sure the door was closed behind him. I looked down and found a solved case from over a decade ago. "I looked at the security cameras pointing at the computer used and guess who I found." He slapped another sheet down with a dishevelled and tired-looking Katsumi pictured on it. My brows furrowed at this suspicious behaviour.

"I'll deal with it." Wanting to be the first one to hear her explanation, I slid the files into my desk. Ayumu's brows flickered together before he realised what I said. I glared up at him, daring him to argue, but instead, he excused himself, walking right back out the door as fast as he came in.

~~~~~~

"I can't believe we were caught making out on security cameras!" Naruko, almost giddily, cries out after telling me an instructor had confronted both her and Chiba about inappropriate behaviour in the common rooms. Apparently, they were getting hot 'n' heavy before escaping to her room and they got caught. Although, that's not the part of the story I was fretting over.

‘I would have been caught sneaking on the computers in the middle of the night. Are there rules against that?’ I have to stop myself from pulling at my hair as I freaked out. Kaga or Ayumu would have gladly said something if I was doing anything wrong. ‘Should I come clean before they need to? No, that's a horrible idea. I'd be admitting my own guilt.’ I shook my head at my internal conversation, Naruko too self-absorbed to realise. She was walking to me the Instructor's Staff Room before lunch because I was tasked with delivering some papers to Kaga. ‘Oh god, what if this is an excuse to get me here?’

~~~~~~~~

At lunch, Katsumi knocked on the door of my office. Her head peeked in first, her short bob only leaning slightly. I found that style on her so sexy. Her white hair against her fair skin. Her neck on display for every man to see. I had to stop myself from staring her into the ground as she approached my desk with light steps, scared for some reason. That's when I remembered the case file she was caught staring at.

"Instructor Akiyame asked me-."

"What were you doing looking at these?" I cut her off, pulling the papers out and dropping them in front of me as she put the stack she had down. She froze, staring at the first page like it had just threatened her life. I watched her gulp, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear, giving herself time to think. She couldn't look at the glare I had on my face and I couldn't say I wasn’t amused. She'd been caught and she knew it, thinking she could just magic her way out of here by not answering me? No way.

Standing up, I walked around the desk to meet her gaze. She stumbled back, but I could tell she wasn’t terrified. Not like that guy at the party. Her eyes were wide, but not with fright. It was almost curiosity that pulled her in. She gulped again as I cornered her into the desk.

Just as I was about to ask again, she announced her reasonings. "My... My mother was a witness in that case." She bit her lip, turning away and her hair fell, blocking my view of that innocent guilty expression. I was almost annoyed that I got to miss it. I knew she had more to say, the absence in the movement of her chest told me she's holding her breath, waiting for me to push her further.

"She left me a ring before she ran away. It was a piece of evidence." She continued to report as I dropped a hand either side of her on my desk. She leaned so far back she might as well have been sitting on the surface. I looked down and her thigh in the tight trousers of the academy uniform widened as she pressured backwards.

"I thought she was dead... But my... My father kept asking me where she was... So I got curious." Her voice was trembling now, so I knew she was remembering her time in that underground torture chamber. My eyes narrowed, heart-stopping when I heard her frail noises. It angered me that she had to go through that. For her whole life. And it angered me that I didn't try looking for her when she didn't show up in the hotel. I had an inkling that something was up. A body can't be incinerated like that, no matter how much of the building went up in flames. I should have followed my instincts, but I let Ishigami's facts get the better of me. Our Chief even had to talk me down. I was so angry at her for running in. It was such a stupid move. Even still, I remembered her saving me. Even if some people told me it could have been a hallucination caused by the lack of oxygen I was getting because of all the smoke I had inhaled. I never let Ishigami change my actions. So, why did I then?

It was even harder when we found the woman at the club who looked just like her. The only thing that was different was her hair colour and the way she acted when we were far from her. She was comfortable, completely in her element as she pushed that guy into the bar. She almost seemed bored by the constant string of criminal activities in that club. I almost believed it wasn't her when she stood on the foothold of the stool and bent over the bar to get close and personal with the bartender, her dress just covering her most discreet place.

Yet, I saw the fluster on her cheeks when she turned to confront the suspicious man in the club she was meant to protect. I’ll be honest, I didn't think she had it in her to entice a man like that. On purpose. Not like the way she's intrigued me. Her unconscious movements and reactions to the way I treated her was a force that I hadn't enjoyed before. I always found myself wondering how far I could push her before she got mad and stormed away, not afraid to take the work I had given her before I even finished my demands.

I backed up when I heard her sniff. Her arm darted in front of her eyes so I couldn't see and I started to feel guilty that I was the cause of it.

"I keep telling myself that she's dead, but I can't help thinking that she's out there. I even called this estate agent, using the clue in that ring, but it was too late at night and I backed out." She was pouring her heart out to me as she cried, still hiding her true pain from me. I sighed, wrapping my arms around her because it seemed like it helped her. She grabbed the sleeve of my arm. Not to push away, but to help support herself.

‘Moron.’ I wasn’t calling her one, she was perfectly allowed to be reacting like this. She was a broken girl who went through a traumatic event. I was blaming myself for feeling the feelings that I was. I noticed the way she bit the tip of her thumb when she was stressed, not because of an interrogation tactic, but because her frowning brows looked so cute. I noticed the way she lifted her glasses onto her head the second she could because she got so annoyed by them. I noticed the way she could just brush Ayumu's teasing off and how she had grown so used to all the men in the academy talking to her. She had calmed down since the beginning of the year, when she couldn't even sit down on a bed next to me.

Now that I think about it, maybe that was for a different reason as well? She was always so cautious, so willing to prove herself to everyone else, I wondered how she would react if she knew how I felt? How I thought about her at night when I finally got a moment of silence away from Four Eyes or sudden changes to my schedule.

My gaze fell to the back of her neck, exposed under the hair that floated over her shoulders and I was angry with myself that that was how I reacted in the moment. It wasn’t appropriate and not okay. And, even though I say that, I couldn't help but be happy that I was the one that could hold her. I was the one that could back her up into a wall and tease her. She wouldn't tell me off, not like she did to Ayumu when he got too personal. I was the one that knew how her outdated sense in music calmed her down. I might not have known how much she was struggling, but I knew how to help her.

~~~~~~~~~

As I stood in Kaga's arms again, I couldn't help but think how safe I felt with him. His arms were so strong and his chest was hard but soft. The heat radiating off him would otherwise be unbearable but the way his breath blew on the back of my neck as I cried into him, it was tolerable. The cigarette smell mixed in with cologne didn't bite at my nose the same way my father did, he only ever smelt like the acidic stench cigars gave him. The glares he gave me were more encouraging than anything, daring me to do better. The way he held me on missions may be temporary and full of the facade we were trying to portray, but my heart raced every time. Sure, whenever a guy got into my personal space I'm embarrassed, unused to a towering figure that could be kind and protective, but with Kaga, it was different. I didn't know how, but it just was.

However, embarrassment quickly consumed me. I'm reminded of how unprofessional this was. I was meant to be a student learning to be a detective. Not a little girl who cried every time she got in her head.

Taking a deep breath, I drew back and Kaga eased his grasp but didn't fully let me go. I looked up at him with an uneasy gaze and there was a look in his eyes that I didn't recognise. It was almost scary. He was the devil Instructor, so who's surprised? But this... This was different. It was the look he had when he pulled Noburu off me and I wanted to run away from it, too ashamed for him to see me act so deplorable.

Inching back further, he seemed to come to his senses and let me go entirely. The cool rush of loneliness almost made me miss it. Almost.

I was about to apologise for how I had been acting when the school bell rang, signally the end of our lunch break.

"Moron, don't just stand there, get moving." Kaga’s expression had turned into a scowl again and he hit the side of my head with the papers I had previously set down. The light hud reminded me of how he hadn't done that since I returned. Had he been holding off until he knew I was completely healed? And he insulted me, something he had also been easing back into. I likeed the push of encouragement and my tears dried quicker than I would have liked. It was so childish to calm down so quickly. Almost like I was having a tantrum and someone just gave me a piece of candy. With the knowledge of that, I blushed and bowed before running out of the office, having dried my face on my sleeve.

#voltage fanfic #voltage games #her love in the force #hlitf ayumu #hlitf goto #hlitf ishigami #hlitf kaga #hlitf soma #hlitf shinonome #hlitf fanfic #hlitf #crime #oc #ooc #mafia #mob #police #detectives

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amenomiko · 5 years ago

Photo

https://picrew.me/image_maker/43383

Thank you for the request. I’m so sorry for the late reply. It took me a while to squeeze my brain juice. So we have:

Nobunaga - Boyish Twin Mitsuhide - Moe (Overly Cute) Hideyoshi - Ara ara type (LOL) Kenshin - Chirpy Masamune - 2 Personality

------------------------------------------

Nobunaga - Boyish Twin

-Her twin is the opposite of her. If she's the lady-like one, this one would be her pisces; the boyish girl.

-Nobunaga couldn't let his smug attitude take over like AT ALL, because he is too preoccupied with her twin, now sitting cross legs (with short pants even) in front of him and even though Nobunaga will usually be the smirking party, he didn't know why he wanted to protect this one.

-He sounds like Hideyoshi somehow with "Lady shouldn't sit like that."

-"Ehhhh you are no fun!! HAHAHAHA!!"

-He is too flabbergasted when her twin laugh out loud and smack his back while she's at it, and MC can count the amount he look back at her to call for help from his troubled expression.

-But she find it amusing to see his culture shock-- era shocked face.

-He jumped from his seat when her twin BURPS and FARTS like nobody's business.

-He went pale the whole time and MC couldn't help but to laugh at this.

Mitsuhide - Too.OVERLY.CUTE Twin

-If MC is heaven,

-Her twin is H E L L.

-Not because of satanic attitude, but her personality is what makes her a HELL to him.

-She is each and every weakness of Mitsuhide. She is shy, soft, 100% clumsy like Mitsunari, and an airhead as well.

-When he tried to tease her she will be both "Eh O///O?" and "Eh OuO?" Mitsuhide find it hard to respond to both.

-He almost, ALMOST break when both MC and her twin bump themselves on the wall together, except that her twin will be confused of why the wall is there, then she apologize when she bump onto the corner of the table after that.

-He snorted when she sniffed on her shoes and make those of cat expression after they smell on something bad.

-When she was asked why, she answers "Because I wonder where did the smell came from." innocently.

-At the end of the day, her twin approached him by tugging on his sleeve gently, "P-please take care of my twin, okay? If you make her cry I will buu buu get angry >3<!" in a very low yet C U T E voice.

-"Let's get married as soon as possible so I can have her as my little sister officially."

-Mc: But we are of the same age--

-Him: Little sister ^^.

Hideyoshi - Matured Twin

-According to MC, she is a school teacher. A discipline teacher.

-At first, Hideyoshi is nervous before meeting her sibling, especially a twin at that, she must have been someone possessive over their twin for taking their other half away from them.

-But MC assures that he will get along and might understand each other better because..

-"MC, how many times do I have to tell you to not go alone to a place you aren't familiar with? Now look who you just brought back?" - The twin.

-"MC, how many times do I have to tell you to not carry heavy things?" - Him.

-"Ah, this sister of mine..! She ever injured her knees because it got twisted when she carry loads of books back in her university days..!"

-Both of Hideyoshi and her twin shakes their head at her.

-THIS is why they can get along.

-"So do you have any siblings?"

-He smiled wryly. "No.. because you see.." The moment he told her his background story she be all like "Oh my, my, my~ (or you can read it as "Ara ara ara ara" in Japanese)."

-"OOF O///O!" Her twin hugged him in between her breasts. "You poor thing..!"

-They may look the same but..

-MC look down at her own breasts and sighs.

Kenshin - Chirpy and Happy-go-lucky

-"You are God of War?? Awesome!!"

-"You cut off people's head?? Cool!!"

-"Wowww so this is your sword?? I LOVE IT!"

-"Sissy, I like him! Get married quick!!"

-"Hmm? Why do you look pale? Are you nervous... in meeting ME?? HEHEHEHE *smacks* I know I'm cute~!!! *smack smack*!!"

-Kenshin were too speechless to her twin. If she is gentle, her twin is the noisy one.

-She likes to jump. A lot. So giddy, cheerful, and is like a ball of unlimited energy.

-"Don't you ever get tired..?" Kenshin managed to gather his thoughts and ask.

-"Hmmmmmm~~~" She poke his shoulder, signalling him to come closer. When he did, she LITERALLY shouted in his ear with "I DON'T KNOWWWW!! WEEEEE~~~" and she jumped away again.

-"...."

-"Sis, can you turn it down? The neighbor will-"

-"Nah, they have moved out."

-"Why-- oh."

-"Hm? Do you know why??"

-She shakes her head, feigning innocence. "No, I don't. Anyway, could you make him some more tea?"

-She jumps "Okayyyy!!"

-MC leaned to his other ear, "If she lead your soldiers, do you think she will win?"

-"...Without a doubt."

Masamune - Hell coated with Heaven

-She is beautiful, just like MC.

-But the moment he met her, he have made a mistake. He assumed that she looks nice but he didn't know the hell that waits for him when they were left alone when MC said she need to take a bath.

-From that assumption itself--he thought he can tease her and get a blushing cheeks just like his lover, but..

-"...Haa?"

-It's like those flowers around her withered the moment her smile fades in instant.

-He froze. "Eh--?"

-"Is this how you act behind my sister? Is this how you act before meeting her? Is this your TRUE COLOR? HM?"

-"A-ah no, I was just-"

-"Just what? Just what?? As if I'm going to let go of her that easily..! Not to you, even though you are good looking. And what's with that eye patch? Are you imitating Jack Sparrow?" She scrunched her face in disgust. "Ew."

-Ew.

-EW???? Did she just "Ew"-ed at him? Him, the most handsome warlord??

-"Now, now, kitten, that's not nice."

-"I don't need your approval on being nice or not. Listen here, mister." He nearly give out a squeak when she suddenly grab him by the collar, "You need to win me to get to her. You may win Father and Mother's heart.. but NOT ME. As if I'm going to give you my baby twin EASILY. YOU GOT ME MR. PIRATE?"

-"Hoooh? I accept this challenge."

-"Hmph."

-Both of them smirk to each other until MC appeared at the door, not seeing what's happening as she was busy with drying her hair with the towel. "Ah, it's been a while since I take a very nice bath~ oh ___ how's everything? Get to know him better?" She giggled.

-His only eye nearly popped out when her twin beamed the most cutest smile ever. "Yes, MC..! He is a very, very nice guy."

-"Hehehehe that's great..! And Masamune~? Did you tease her with your flirting?"

-"Me? Of course not, Kitten. Your sister is like my sister too. Heh."

-"Hehehe okay..!"

-The right moment she turned around both of them hiss with one another.

Hehehehehe <3

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku imagines #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikemen sengoku kenshin #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi

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talpup · 5 years ago

Text

Erase the Shadow: 12

Summary: Despite sharing dreams with Teris for as long as he can remember, Aizawa Shouta never believed in soulmates. That was until he met Teris in the real world on his first day at UA. Trouble is, Teris doesn’t know anything about their shared dreams. And the one time Shouta tried to tell her, he nearly lost her completely.

Five years after graduating from UA, Shouta still believes Teris is his soulmate. But things have only gotten worse. Teris moved to another town shortly after graduation. And now she’s dating his best friend Yamada Hizashi.

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027552/chapters/55261261

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Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a VERY special thank you to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They REALLY mean a lot.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for their encouragement and friendship. Also for them helping plot bunny this story out and reading through a piece of this chapter before its posting. This fic was my personal guilty pleasure, and without them never be getting posted.

12.1

“Babe! Do you really have to go on patrol tonight?” Hizashi was getting ready to go to a party the radio station was putting on and was still trying to convince Teris to accompany him. “You’ve been livin’ here for almost a year and still haven’t met anyone. Everyone at the station is startin’ to think you don’t exist.”

“I’m an underground hero, Zashi. It’s better if people don’t know I exist.” Teris replied from the en suite bathroom.

“But you wouldn’t be going as a hero, Babe! You’d be going as my girlfriend.”

Teris pulled up the other bra strap and sighed at her image in the mirror. She could hear the hurt hidden beneath her boyfriend’s cajoling whine.

Damn it. Was she really that bad a girlfriend? Why was it that she couldn’t go a single day without proving to herself and Hizashi just how terrible and unworthy she was of him? It was a wonder he had stuck with her this long. It wasn’t as if she were anything special.

As much as she didn’t want to meet a large group of loud, extroverted people, Hizashi was right. She had been living with him in Musutafu for nearly a year and one of his greatest excitements, other than living and working together, had been that she would meet his friends and colleagues at the radio station.

Grabbing the dark grey shirt of her hero costume, she exited the bathroom. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Sunshine.”

“Does that mean you’ll come?”

Teris gave a scoffing chuckle at Hizashi's theatrical pouting expression.

“Please, Ris Wren. It’ll be fun. I promise. And if you hate them we can leave early and have the rest of Saturday night to ourselves.”

“I can’t, my Love. I’m scheduled to do patrol.”

“So call in.”

“Eraser’s counting on me.”

Hizashi ducked and turned his head, hiding his frown. “Eraser will be fine.”

“I have no doubt he’ll be fine without me. But he was gonna introduce me to this CI that’s apparently a wealth of information.”

Hizashi lifted his head, green eyes fixing on hers. “You’ve been working every other weekend with him for how long and you still haven’t met all his contacts? Sounds like he’s holdin’ out on you.”

Probably so he can claim that there’s still a reason for you to do these stupid joint patrols with him, he thought sullenly. He really should've pushed Teris harder on cutting down her patrol hours before Nemuri had the chance to suggest Teris and Shouta team up.

Teris stepped closer to him, explaining. “The underground doesn’t work the same as regular heroing.” Her hands trailed up his chest. “People in that life are skittish. It takes time for someone new to prove themselves and gain their trust. Honestly, I’m surprised Shouta got this woman to agree to meet me so quickly.”

Hizashi perked up at that. “Woman?”

Teris rolled her eyes. “Oh. Now he’s interested.” She gripped his shirt and tugged him closer. “You’re taken. By me. Remember?”

“I remember that greatest top hit every millisecond of the day, Ris.” His arms snaked around her waist, knees bending to better line up their hips. “But, Eraser? Working with a woman?”

Teris tired to ignore the tiny swell of jealousy at the thought of Eraserhead working with another woman.

She fiddled with his shirt collar. “I wouldn’t call it working. She’s a CI. It’s not like she does jobs with him.”

“Still...” He kissed a trail from her cheek to her neck, rubbing his semi-hard cock against her. “Don’t CI’s usually require payment for their information? And not always in cash.” He nipped at her neck. “I wonder how he pays her.”

12.2

Hizashi's words stayed with Teris as she walked with Eraserhead down a narrow pass through between buildings.

“We usually don’t meet at her place of work, but I think she wanted the extra protection the bouncers bring when meeting you.” Shouta gave a small, sideways smirk expecting Shadow to scoff at the thought of her being a threat to a possible informant.

When she didn’t, his lips thinned. It wasn’t that Shadow was distracted. He would have called her out on that. But she had been distant since the first moment they had greeted at their usual meeting spot.

“What do you pay her in?” Teris asked, softly.

She kept her eyes straight ahead, focusing on him out of her periphery. She didn’t want him thinking she was bothered.

Why did she even care how Shouta paid the dancer, come call girl? He was a grown man and could do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t as if he were her boyfriend. No, she told herself. But if the woman’s to become my CI, it’s something I should know.

That’s right, she reason. She wasn’t asking because she was worried and jealous. She was asking because the woman would likely expect the same sort of payment from her and she needed to know if she could, or was willing to deliver.

“Various things depending on the level of information and her mood.” Shouta answered.

She wouldn’t even glance at him. Had he done something wrong? He reminded himself that he was introducing her to a new CI. One that had helped him with many a case, and could do the same for her. It was logical that Shadow would be focused and not in the mood for friendly banter. He shouldn’t read too much into it.

Teris’ thumb rubbed against the dull obsidian point at the end of one of the metal knuckles bars. She carried two of them. Each of the slender ‘u’ shaped weapons had one long end slipped in the front pocket of her black jeans. The other long silver line merely appearing an adornment to the average eye.

Eraserhead’s words looped in her mind. Various things depending on… her mood.

Would someone who was paid for sex want sex as payment? She glanced at Eraser and swallowed. She was with Hizashi. She really shouldn’t care how Eraser paid his CI’s. She needed to focus, not wonder if this woman sought sex from Eraserhead as payment.

Would Eraser even agree to such a form payment if asked? He didn’t have a girlfriend...

Stop it! She silently scolded herself.

Shouta stopped in front of a door with no handle. “We’re here.”

He looked at her, gauging her readiness. Why did she look distracted now of all times?

“You ready?” He questioned, lowly.

Teris tried to ignore his deep rumbling voice and inhaled deeply, staring at the metal door.

“Yeah.” She exhaled.

Shouta saw her focus return. He waited a beat, making sure. Finally he took a fortifying breath of his own and knocked the short coded beat into the door.

They were shown to a rather spacious dressing room.

For a moment Teris wondered about privacy, thinking the room was for all the dancers. But she quickly took in the single vanity and comfortable lounge seating, and realized this was all for one person.

“Big Boy’s gonna stay by the door if that’s alright with you, Eraser.” Said a feminine voice from behind a dressing screen.

“Whatever makes you comfortable.” Shouta said, his deep rumbling voice a stark contrast to the high sweet one that had just spoken.

Even her voice was lovely. Teris quickly shooed away the troublesome thought.

She noticed the name above the vanity mirror. “Your name is Delphin?”

“Eraser didn’t even tell you that much?” The melodious voice questioned. “Why am I not surprised. The handsome devil doesn’t easily give out information. He only seeks it. Yes. I’m known as Delphin. I took the name based off the pretty but deadly little flower cluster Delphinium. And you are known as Shadow. Correct?”

“And I thought you said Eraser wasn’t good at giving info.” Teris’ smirk cut short when a lacy bra was flung over the shielding screen.

She stole a glance at Eraserhead, upset at her own gladness when she saw his head tilted and lowered, black hair curtaining off any hope of a view.

“Oh, Eraser didn’t tell me.” Delphin said, pulling a silk robe from the screen. “You were clocked the moment you moved into town. Well, at least the moment you started patrolling here. Your darkness quirk had quite a few folk worried.” She stepped out into view. “They thought you were working for this Void that some are whispering about.”

Teris blinked at the woman. She was… beautiful. Hell. If Delphin asked her for sex as payment she, at the very least, would be tempted to consider it.

Delphin glanced at Shouta, red lips turning up into a smile. “But when you started working with Eraser here. Most peoples concerns were put to rest.”

Shouta lifted his head. “Most?”

“Come now, Eraser. You know people aren’t won over so easily. New opinions take time to form. Trust must be earned.” Delphin caught the slight pinch of worry in the Erasure Hero’s brow. “You can’t make everyone fall in love with Shadow. No matter how cute she is.”

The furrow between Shouta’s eyebrows deepened a fraction, but a fraction was all Delphin needed. This would be fun.

“Come. Sit. Let me and your partner get acquainted. Delphin looked the female pro hero over as they all made their way to the small sitting area.

She was a pretty thing, even in dark grey and black with no make-up. Delphin could tell her clothes weren’t picked for the purpose of flattering. But since they fit properly, unlike Eraserhead’s baggy garb, the hugging jeans and cotton, scoop necked tee definitely did flatter her heroes body.

“So this is who you’ve been ignoring me for, Eraser.” Delphin saw the barest tightening in Shadow’s shoulders.

Oh. This was definitely going to be fun, she thought.

Shouta opened his mouth to reply that Delphin hadn’t left any messages on his work voice mail saying she had information worthy of a meeting. But before he could make a sound she went on.

“Not that I blame you. Pretty, new hero comes to town. No doubt you’ve been showing her everything Musutafu has to offer. Tell me. How just how well do you two know each other? How deep does the partnership go?”

Teris stared. Was this woman capable of making every sentence she spoke have a sexual connotation? She’d hate for Delphin and Hizashi to meet. The two would no doubt have a blast trying to out do each other.

“That’s not your concern.” Shouta told.

“Protective, are we?” Delphin played, her laugh as clear and beautiful as a crystal.

Teris had never felt so dull and ugly in her life; and given all the reprimands she received as a child about her habits and state of dress, that was saying something.

“You know I don’t tolerate personal questions.” Shouta stated, without emotion.

“Oh! So your dealings together are personal are they? Should I be jealous?”

“I don’t see why. Our contact is work based and both party’s can end the deal at any time.” Shouta said of his and Delphin’s agreement.

Delphin’s sparkling eyes raked hungerly over him. “But one can derive so much pleasure from work, Sugar. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I find fulfillment in my work.” Shouta admitted.

“Do you find fulfillment working with me?” She asked, voice as smooth as silk.

“You provide good information.” Shouta replied, oblivious to Teris’ rising ire.

It wasn’t that he didn’t catch Delphin’s suggestive teasing. He wasn’t an idiot. But he was use to her ways and, tiresome as all of it was, at least Delphin wasn’t as blatant or forward as Ms. Joke.

“Only after sufficient, satisfactory payment, Handsome.” She turned her shimmering eyes to Teris. “Has he ever drilled you for information? He can be rather ruthless. Can’t he. Then again I like at man who knows what he wants and is willing to work long and hard for it.”

“Are we gonna get to the point of this meeting anytime soon?” Teris questioned, shortly.

Surprised by her sharpness, Shouta looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t like being ignored, Sweetness?” Delphin asked. “Then again I know all about Eraser and the point of tonight is to get a feel for you. To decide if I like you enough to let you use me too.”

Shouta swallowed. A flash of an image shot through his mind before he could stop it. It made his blood pump with desire and possessiveness.

Shit. He knew how Delphin talked and teased. Why hadn’t he thought that she would do the same with Shadow? Not that being prepared would have made him feel any better about the woman talking to his Love that way. Still, that didn’t explain Shadow’s annoyance with Delphin.

“It took me a long time to let Eraser tie me down and pump me for information.” Delphin continued.

Teris gritted her teeth. The woman was trying to toy with her. No. She was toying with her. Because you’re stupid enough to let her, she thought. Some hero your are. Letting a possible CI get to you like this.

If Delphin had been talking about any other hero Teris wouldn’t have cared. But Eraserhead was different. Eraserhead was Shouta. And Shouta was-- Not yours, she reminded herself harshly.

How is it that you don’t like it when Hizashi uses terms of ownership, but are sitting here wanting to claim a man that you have no right to try and claim? Shouta's not your boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend’s best friend. You’re such a hypocrite. You’re an idiot hero, and terrible girlfriend.

What kind of person desires their boyfriend’s best friend? You don’t deserve anyone. But you certainly don’t deserve someone as sweet and caring as Hizashi. He was either blind or kind enough to date you in the first place, and here you are nearly three years in your relationship with him wanting Shouta.

Do you really think Hizashi would stay with you if he had any idea how you felt about his best friend? You sick, disgusting fuck. No wonder your family didn’t want you. They might've said they disowned you because you wanted to become a hero; but let’s face it, they were looking for an excuse. You were a disgrace of daughter. Just like you’re a disgrace and despicable girlfriend. You lost your name and your family to be a hero, and here you sit being a discredit to that as well.

“So tell me, Shadow. What kind of hero are you? You must be something special to get the normally lone Eraserhead to team with and vouch for you.”

Short as the meeting was, Shouta was glad when it was over. He didn’t think himself a jealous person. He had managed to tolerate Hizashi hanging all over Teris without hitting him yet. But Hizashi was his best friend. And Delphin’s constant subtle sexual turn of phrase set his teeth on edge.

Shouta and Teris got to their feet.

Big Boy, who had silently stood at the rooms entrance, opened the door.

“Eraser. Stay a moment more if you would.” Delphin smiled, coyly. “I have something special for you that you’ve been wanting. Something that you’ll pay me real good for.”

Shouta glanced at Shadow, inciting Delphin to tell Teris.

“Oh, you can wait out in the hall or go get a drink at the bar, Sweet One. Big Boy will make sure they know it’s on me.”

The way Shadow paused and looked at him out of the corner of her eye told Shouta that she wasn’t keen on leaving him alone with Delphin. But Shouta trusted Delphin well enough to be comfortable. He had been getting intel from the woman for a couple years. He knew she wouldn't try anything.

He gave Shadow single nod.

Teris reluctantly followed the large Bouncer out of the dressing room.

As soon as the door closed Shouta questioned. “What do you have?”

Delphin noted how he didn’t step back to the sitting area. He probably didn’t want to leave Shadow alone out there for too long. A smart, all be it protective, move on the hero’s part.

She rose to her feet. “You asked me to keep an ear out for this Void people are whispering about.”

Shouta’s eyes met hers as she stepped to him.

Despite his studied efforts, Delphin was able to see the hungry hope he felt for any sliver of information. It wasn’t his fault. Eraserhead was rather good at hiding his emotions. He was excellent at it in fact. It was one of the main reasons she continued their agreement. He was a challenge that kept her people reading skills sharp.

“What have you learned?” Shouta asked, not liking how she entered his space.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what this information will cost? You usually do.”

“What do you want?”

“Since you brought me that cute hero to play with, and this is clearly something important to you. Why don’t we call it even.”

Shouta's eyes narrowed. “Even the smallest information costs with you.”

“Fine then. Since you insist. How about forgiveness?”

“Forgiveness?”

Before he could wonder what she wanted forgiveness for, Delphin kissed his stubbled cheek.

It was closed mouth and quick, but purposefully messy.

Shouta jerked his head back, scowling.

He didn’t step back or push her away; but the tension in his body told her that she had crossed a line.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Delphin lied.

Far from pacified by her apology, Shouta frowned at her.

She stepped back out of his space. “It won’t ever happen again. I promise.”

“If it does, our arrangement is over.” He told flatly.

Delphin swallowed.

Okay, maybe she had misjudged Eraserhead this time. Yes, she had expected him to be upset; but she hadn’t thought that he would threaten to end their bargain. He must’ve liked Shadow far more than she thought.

“I swear, Eraser. I’ll be good.” Delphin ducked her head and pouted, a contrite look that always worked on lesser men.

Shouta sighed roughly, well aware that she wasn’t truly sorry. But so long as she didn’t do it again he would let it slide. Forgiveness was an easy price to pay for any information on the Void.

“What do you have?”

“Turns out that this Void has someone with a sleep or dream quirk working for them.” Delphin told.

Shouta felt stupid that he had never considered such a thing. If the Void had someone with a somnambulist type quirk working for him it would explain how he was able to enter his and Teris’ shared dreams. He would have to look at the quirk registry and see how the various somnambulist quirks worked. Maybe even met and ask Nemuri. Though he would have to be careful if he did. He didn’t want to chance Nemuri learning about and getting involved with the Void.

“I really am sorry, Eraser. I know I overstepped. I swear I meant nothing by it.”

Shouta’s neck stiffened at the memory of the pecking kiss. “No need to mention it again.”

“If I get anything else I’ll call and leave you a message.” Delphin promised, wanting to make amends.

Eraserhead was more than a fun visitor that kept her people reading skills well honed. He was one of the few people she saw that didn’t want her for sex. She doubted the man had ever looked her over with anything more than an initial appraising glance to make sure she was well and not a threat.

Shouta opened the door just as Teris got slapped across the face.

He rushed over to her, while another man pulled the attacking woman back.

“Fucking Slut! He’s mine! Bitch! Get your own man and stay away from mine!” The woman raged.

“You best leave.” The Bouncer told, already crowding them in effort to usher them out the back door they had entered through.

Shouta wrapped a steadying arm around Shadow’s waist and led her down the hall.

Once outside, he stopped. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” In truth Teris was still dazed by what happened, but that wasn’t what Eraserhead was asking.

“You’re bleeding.”

“What?” She lifted her hand to her stinging cheek.

Shouta grabbed her hand before she could touch and smear the blood. He moved her to a small, low crate beside the door.

“Sit down.” He helped her sit and squatted in front on her. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ve been hit harder, Eraser.” Teris said, more embarrassed than hurt.

Shouta's heart squeezed.

He knew she had taken harder hits. Much to his distaste, he had seen it happen during their patrols. It was something that stayed with him. Though he was able to lock the images and guilt that came with those instances away.

She looked down at his still holding hand. His skin was warm. Fingers calloused. Touch gentle but firm. Just as she had imagined.

“Looks like the bleeding stopped.” He commented, worried eyes focused on her cut cheek.

Her fingers began to close around his. No! This was wrong. She pulled her hand out of his and tried to stand, but Shouta stopped her.

He had been about to apologize when she pulled her hand away, but then she started to get up. “Stay.”

His hands hovered over her, afraid to touch her and cause further offense.

Teris’ eyebrows furrowed in question.

“We need to disinfect that.” He explained.

“It’s a scratch, Eraser.”

“It still needs treating, Shadow.”

They stared at each other.

It was clear from his expression that he wasn’t backing down, so Teris gave in.

She relaxed and Shouta opened a pouch on his utility belt. “Stubborn.”

The word was mumbled so softly that she questioned. “What?”

“What happened?” He asked, pulling supplies out.

She eyed him pretty sure that wasn’t what he said. “Some guy started hitting on me.”

Shouta needlessly busied himself with the alcohol and antibiotic packets. “What did you say?”

“What do you think I said? I politely told him I wasn’t interested. And when he kept on, I told him to get lost.”

She normally would’ve said she had a boyfriend; but since she was on patrol, details like that were guarded.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“I can handle myself, Eraser.”

Shouta smirked at that. He lifted a hand, tucking her hair behind an ear, better exposing the scratch on her cheek. “Sure looks that way.”

Teris rolled her eyes.

His hand remained. Her hair was so soft. Focus, he scolded himself.

His fingers trailed the line of her jaw.

Her eyes fluttered closed. Try as she might to hold still, her head slightly tilted into his touch.

Not wanting to pull away, Shouta, used his teeth to tear open the alcohol swabs foil lined packet. With his other hand, he pulled the swab free.

He caught her chin between his fingers and gently guided her face closer. “You alright?”

She opened her eyes. How and when did he get so close? That’s right. He had moved her. And like putty in his hands she had went easily. Too easily.

“Yeah.” She breathed.

Shouta's thumb lightly brushed beneath her lip. “This might sting a bit.”

It was silly warning to give. Small as the scratch was its cleaning likely wouldn’t cause her any discomfort. But he was doing everything he could to extend this moment.

She was so close. He could feel her breath on his face. It was the most glorious feeling in the world, to breath the same air.

“I’ll be fine.” She whispered, eyes locked on his.

“Will you?”

Would either of them be fine without the other? Everyday was more difficult than the last. Try as he might to hide his feelings he couldn’t help but think he was failing miserably.

He had told himself that he would wait. That he would let Hizashi ruin things with her and then take his chance. But nearly three years later, Hizashi and Teris were still together. He didn’t want to betray and risk losing his best friend, but…

A breeze ruffled Shouta's hair.

Something on his cheek, hidden by his dark, wavy locks, caught her eye. A flash of color that shouldn’t be there.

Teris’ hand lifted, tucking back his hair. For a moment her heart squeezed, thinking he had been hurt. But the red was too bright. Realization dawned. Her heart clenched for a completely different reason.

At Teris’ contact, a soft groan sounded from the back of Shouta's throat.

It was one thing for him to touch her, but this… That single touch felt so much better than he ever could’ve imagine.

Too soon, her hand pulled away.

She rose to her feet and stepped to the side.

“Shadow?” Shouta stood and stepped after her. “I’m sor--”

“You got lipstick.” She muttered, unable to look at him.

Why did her heart ache so much? She was with Hizashi. She shouldn’t care.

Shouta heard the crack in her voice. His hand raised to his cheek. Delphin, he thought. Her lipstick must’ve transferred when she--

“She kissed me.” He tried to explain.

“Whatever you do with your CI’s is your own business, Eraser.”

“Shadow. No. It’s not like that--”

Her phone rang.

“I gotta take this.�� She said without looking at the screen.

Shouta watched her step further away. He wanted to explain. Wanted to tell her that he hadn’t expected the kiss. That he hadn’t wanted it.

It turned out the call had been important. One of her former students needed her help.

Teris quickly explained that the student would have graduated last year if it weren’t for the Hero Commissions order and that the young man said he was injured. Lucky for them, he had moved to Musutafu soon after the Hero Commissions order and wasn’t far away.

Teris had tried to talk Eraser out of going with her, but Shouta insisted on accompanying.

He didn’t like the idea of her meeting anyone, even an ex-student, alone. More than that, something about this wasn’t right. Why wouldn’t the young man simply go to a clinic?

He had a feeling that Shadow wondered that same which was why she had fought so hard against him going. But Shouta could be just as stubborn as Teris, and in the end the two were walking to the given address.

The walk gave Shouta time to think, and he came to a realization that excited him with gladness despite the circumstances.

“This is the address.” Teris said, turning into a small run down apartment block.

The unlatched apartment door swung open at her knock.

“Sensei?” A voice called cautiously from within.

“Kiro?”

Teris entered, Shouta at her heels.

“Sensei! I—I’m sorry. I heard you accepted a position at UA and didn’t know who else to call. I was wounded but can’t go to a clinic. They’d ask too many questions. I’m sorry, Sensei. Please. Help.”

While the young man talked, Shouta gave the place a cursory check. He peeked over the bar style counter-top into the kitchen, and then in the bedroom before closing apartment door and locking it.

“It’s clear.” He told Shadow, who was already looking over the young mans injuries.

“Sensei. Wh—who’s that?”

“A colleague.” Teris answered simply, urging the young man to sit. “It’s fine, Kiro. What happened? Why can’t you go to a clinic?”

“You’ve turned vigilante.” Shouta stated, dark eyes on the young man.

Kiro stared at the man’s unfriendly expression.

Teris paused in her assessment. “Kiro?”

“I—I—I’m sorry, Sensei.”

Shouta moved by her kneeling frame. “Shadow. We need to leave.”

Teris turned and looked up at him. “What?”

“A former student of yours turned vigilante. You can’t be here. You could lose both your hero and teaching license if they found out.”

“We can’t leave him. He’s injured.”

Though he felt for her and the young man, Shouta's expression remained dispassionate. “Are his injuries life threatening?”

Teris’ sense of failure and concern for her student mixed with her earlier jealously at the lipstick on Shouta’s cheek.

“Are we heroes or not?” She snapped.

She took a steadying breath. This wasn’t Shouta's problem. He could get in trouble just the same as she. He shouldn’t be here.

She turned back to Kiro, dismissing him. “You should go, Eraser. I don’t want you getting in trouble over this. Leave. Please.”

Shouta ground his teeth, exhaling through the nose. He had said she could get in trouble. He wasn’t concerned about himself.

“Help him.” Shouta told her, fighting a growl. “You,” he pinned the young man with a brooding glared, “don’t say a word. Unless you want to see your Sensei in trouble, don’t tell us what you were doing or how you got those wounds.”

Teris worked quickly. As much as she wanted to ask Kiro questions, she didn’t. Eraser was right. The less they knew about what happened the better.

Soon she had popped Kiro’s dislocated shoulder back in place, cleaned and steri striped two deep, sizable puncture wounds, and wrapped an ugly looking burn after applying ointment from the small first aid kit she carried on her belt.

The moment she was done, Shouta had a hand on her arm, tugging her to her feet. Once she was standing, he moved to the door unlocking and opening it.

“Thank you, Sensei. I’m sorry.”

Teris looked away from the young man’s watery eyes and exited without a word.

She didn’t know why he had apologized to her. She was the one who should’ve apologized. She wondered how many other students of hers, effected by the Hero Commissions ruling, had turned to vigilantism. Had she failed all of them?

Shouta paused just outside the door. “I’ll be right back. Gotta use the bathroom. Stay here.”

He left Shadow outside and stepped back into the apartment, closing the door.

Before Kiro could fully rise to his feet, Shouta was pushing him back down with a heavy hand. He didn’t know what the young man’s quirk was, and doubted that he would use it, but his hair rose, eyes burning red as he activated his own quirk.

“You’re going to listen. And listen well.” Shouta rumbled, the barest hinting of the anger inside him edging into his voice.

Kiro nodded, fearfully.

“Lose her number. Shadow’s not your Sensei any more. And when you find yourself in trouble again, don’t you dare think about calling her for help. Lacerations and dislocations will be the least of your worries if you do. Understand me?”

Kiro nodded again.

“Answer properly.” Shouta's hand tightened on the young man’s tender shoulder.

Kiro squirmed in pain, his hand futilely trying to pull Shouta's off.

“I’d answer fast. Your shoulder’s about to dislocate again. If it does, who won’t you be calling?”

“Teris Sensei!”

Shouta blinked, deactivating his quirk. “I told you she’s no longer your Sensei. Don’t make me repeat myself. I don’t like it.”

He released his grip and patted Kiro’s throbbing shoulder.

“It wasn’t suppose to be like this.” Kiro called after the retreating hero. “I was suppose to be a pro hero. The Hero Commission took that away from me. Made me waste three years of my life. I would’ve done whatever stupid test they wanted to prove myself so I could graduate and become a pro. Instead they said we all had to start over again. As if private heroics teachers weren’t previously seen as qualified, and trusted to teach us. It isn’t fair.”

“Life’s not fair.” Shouta said, thinking that if it were Teris would remember their shared dreams and they would have been happy together since their days at UA. “Heroing is dangerous enough when you have support and back-up you can call on. Being a vigilante might seem the answer. But it’s not. You have three options. Find something else to do with your life. Retake the hero course. Or continue down this path and find yourself dead or in jail within the three years it would’ve taken you to redo the hero course. The choice is yours.”

12.3

Their patrol time was almost over so Shouta decided to simply call it an end.

Teris didn’t put up much of an argument, proving just how upset she was. Though Shouta couldn't say if it was solely from learning that a previous student of hers had turned vigilante, or if it also had something to do with what he had recently figured out.

She liked him, romantically. It was the only logical reason for her earlier jealousy. And she had been jealous. He would’ve been able to reason what he saw away if it had simply been Delphin’s word play. He had done so before with various looks and touches Teris had given him. But when she had seen the lipstick on his cheek…

Displeased as he was by Delphin’s pecking kiss, he was grateful for what it had brought about. The sure realization that his Love loved him in return.

Sadly, the knowledge didn’t allow him the freedom to do anything about it. She was still with Hizashi. But the fact that Teris wanted and cared for him gave Shouta hope that she and Hizashi might not be together much longer.

He told himself that he would have to tread slowly after the two broke up. He had suffered through the near three years of Teris and Hizashi's relationship because he respected both of them. He didn’t want to lose his best friend. He told himself that when he and Teris got together, he would mindful. He didn’t want to rub his relationship with her it in Hizashi's face the way Hizashi had unknowingly done with him.

There was a subtle smile on his lips as he walked beside her. Teris had told him he didn’t have to walk her home, but he had insisted. Even though their patrol had ended early, he didn’t want their time together to end.

“Do you think it’s my fault?” Teris asked, voice cutting into his thoughtful planning.

Shouta’s eyes turned to her.

He took in her lowered head and slumped shoulders, and immediately scolded himself. How could he be so selfish? While he had been pleased and excited during their walk to her and Hizashi's apartment, Teris had clearly been blaming herself for the turn one of her former students had taken.

“No. Not in the least.” He said, firmly.

Teris sighed.

She wasn’t sure what she had wanted him to say but that wasn’t it. One thing was certain. If the ‘tell it like it is’ Aizawa Shouta was sparing her feelings, then Hizashi and Nemuri wouldn’t give it to her straight either. Not that she would readily tell them that a former student of hers had turned vigilante.

“Hey. Listen to me.” Shouta reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping them in front of the apartment complex.

“Shouta. I just--”

He stood facing her, hands on her shoulders. “People make their own decisions. You can’t control them.”

No, she thought. But I could have taught him better. If she were half the hero ethics instructor Shouta was, than maybe--

“It’s not your fault Teris. You didn’t buy and persuade the Hero Commission into making that decision. You didn’t encourage Kiro to turn vigilante.”

No. But I could have done more than try to keep tabs from afar. I could have called. Checked in on him. On all of them. I just felt so guilty that I--

“Do you really think he would have told what he was doing?” Shouta asked.

He knew her well enough to know exactly where her mind would go. He knew that her favored private pastime was beating herself up.

Shouta's hand cupped her face. “Look at me.”

He gently turned and lifted her head, waiting for her eyes to follow.

“How long have you known me?” Shouta asked, when her gaze finally met his.

Silently he wished that she would say, for as long as she could remember; but he knew it was a silly hope.

“Near twelve years.”

“And in all that time have you once known be to lie to spare someones feelings?”

She shook her head.

But this was different, she thought. Shouta had--

“Ignore that inner argument in your head and answer me, Teris.”

“No.” She swallowed.

“No what?”

“You’ve never lied to spare someones feelings.”

“Then, special as you are, why do you think I’d start now?”

“Special?”

If he hadn’t so recently realized her feelings for him, Shouta likely would have lamely flustered his way around the telling slip. Instead, this newfound knowledge gave him a surety with her that he had only ever shown in their shared dreams.

“You have no idea how special you are.” He told, thumb caressing her cheek.

He wanted to go on. To tell her just how amazing and special she was. How treasured and precious she was to him. But he didn’t. He had patiently waited this long for friendships sake. He could hold out a little while longer till she was no longer with Hizashi.

At least that’s what he thought.

His mouth, on the other hand, had other ideas. “You’re amazing, Teris. Kind. Tenacious. Generous. Smart. You bring people up. Make them better. You make me better.” His cradling hand moved, tucking her hair behind an ear. “I hate that you think so little of yourself. That you can’t see how wonderful you truly are.” His knuckles smooth down her cheek. “You’re beautiful, Ris.”

He glanced down at her lips, and found her staring at his when his eyes lifted.

As if by some silent accord they both inched closer.

The tips of Teris’ fingers brushed the top of his hero costume.

Moving a bit more sure than her, Shouta's other hand slid down her arm.

Teris’ gaze met his.

Shouta tilted his head.

Her eyes fell closed, lips parting softly.

Shouta felt the first whispering touch of her lips.

Teris’ phone rang.

Her eyes snapped open.

She pulled back, cursing under her breath.

“Ter--” Shouta tired.

“It’s Hizashi.” She said, taking another step back.

What had she done? No. She hadn’t done anything. They hadn’t done anything. But you would have, she thought. If Hizashi hadn’t called. You would have let him kiss you. No. She had been moving in just the same as Shouta. It would have been a shared, mutual kiss.

Fuck! She was such a horrible girlfriend. Shouta was wrong. She was a terrible person.

“Teris. I’m sorry. I didn’t...” Shouta fell silent.

There wasn’t much he could say. He couldn't tell her he didn’t mean it. That would be lying, and he wouldn't lie to her.

Teris stared into Shouta's eyes. Eyes that were filled with want and concern. Eyes that likely mirrored hers.

She hesitated, wanting nothing more than to step back to him and bridge the gap between them.

The sound of Hizashi's ring tone stopped, his call going to voicemail.

“Shit.” She muttered, stuffing her hand into her pocket and taking out her phone.

She took another step back. She needed to get away before she did something that couldn’t be undone.

“I--I gotta go.” She said, turning away.

“Teris!” Shouta called after her.

He could’ve easily caught up with her hurried steps, but he didn’t give chase.

12.4

Hizashi wasn’t drunk but he had had enough drink at the stations party to feel good. That good feeling evaporated the instant he turned the corner and saw Shouta holding Teris by the shoulders. Her head was down and at first he thought she was hurt or upset.

He had taken a step intent on comforting his girl but then Shouta cupped her face and…

Hizashi had watched in breathless heartache. Waiting. Hoping. That Teris would slap Shouta's hand away. That she would back away from him and leave. But she didn’t.

Hizashi took another step, intent on pulling his girl to his side and challenging Shouta. He wanted to yell at his best friend. To hit him. Teris was his girl. And Shouta was his friend. His best friend. But his whirling mind thought better of it.

Teris was accepting of Shouta's touch. Her sweet, beautiful face was moving closer to Shouta's at the same rate as Shouta's was moving toward hers. She wanted Shouta to kiss her. More than that, she wanted to kiss Shouta.

I think I’m losing her. The words he told Nemuri a couple months back floated through his mind.

Would this be how he lost her? What if he went over there and blew up at Shouta for making moves on his girl and Teris pulled away from his side and moved to Shouta's? What if him going over there and confronting this was what caused her to break up with him? He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t lose her. He would come up with a way to keep her. But first he had to stop this.

He quickly pulled the phone from his pocket and blindly called her.

He heard his ring tone echo across the quiet street as it played from her phone.

Teris pulled back. It looked like Shouta was apologizing. She turned and rushed away.

Hizashi was able to breath again.

He watched a left alone Shouta. It looked like his friend was upset and berating himself.

Good. Hizashi thought. Shouta should be mad at himself.

It was bad enough that Shouta had entered Teris’ dreams and had been caught watching his girl countless times. But this… To try to kiss her.

He wondered if it had happened before.

No. He told himself. Teris would've said something. She would’ve stopped patrolling with Shouta. Her constant self deprecation and sense of unworth wouldn’t have allowed her to look him in the eye if she were seeing Shouta on the side.

Still, Hizashi couldn’t help but imagine the two of them hanging out, snuggled up together at some cat cafe instead of patrolling. Would they lay in each others arms in Shouta's apartment on Friday nights and listen to his radio show, laughing and making love to the music he played?

Hizashi shook his head trying to expel the image from it. But it didn’t go away. Instead it kept on playing.

Nemuri's advice echoed in his mind. You should share her.

Could he share her? If it meant keeping Teris he could. He would do anything to keep her. Shouta was likely desperate enough to go along with it. But would Teris agree?

Damn it! He didn’t want to share her. Teris was his.

Then another thought came to mind, brought on by a different memory.

Teris had been having a sex dream and practically said Shouta's name. Once awake, she had claimed she hadn’t remembered her dream. Well I guess it couldn't have been that good. He had replied.

What if Shouta really wasn’t that good in real life? Hizashi had never seen Shouta so much as flirt with someone. Shouta certainly had never had a girlfriend. Considering how little the man went out and that Shouta had never hinted at any escapades, it was highly likely he was still a virgin.

Hizashi knew that he was a great lover even without his vibrating tongue. If he could show Teris that Shouta was a clumsy virgin fool…

A plan began to form. And while far from pleased, Hizashi did feel better as he entered his shared apartment with Teris.

#bnha #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #eraserhead #hizashi yamada #yamada hizashi #present mic #yandere hizashi #yandere #my hero academia #erase the shadow

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