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cryptiql · 3 years ago

Text

smoke signals

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 6.5k

a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)

dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.

dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.

so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.

the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.

what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?

not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.

dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.

you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.

"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.

"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.

"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"

"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.

kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.

after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.

"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"

shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.

"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."

and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.

the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.

right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?

he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.

the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.

the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.

when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.

even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.

your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.

"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."

a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.

sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?

"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.

"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."

after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.

"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"

dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.

"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."

"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.

"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"

dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.

five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.

it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.

many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.

dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.

a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?

the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.

he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.

the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.

his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.

the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.

"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."

dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.

"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."

dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.

with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.

"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.

"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."

dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.

"the name's, y/n, by the way!"

try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.

your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.

"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."

okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.

he hates it. he hates you.

dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.

"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.

you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.

"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.

"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—

"you were saying?"

"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.

the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.

this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.

you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.

dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.

"you're welcome." is all he can muster.

half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.

this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.

but it's not.

trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.

dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.

"why do you call me that?"

you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"

you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.

"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?

you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.

"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."

upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.

"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."

once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.

"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."

"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.

your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.

"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"

dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.

he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.

not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.

"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.

"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.

"hm?"

dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.

"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."

you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"

you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.

"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.

"no."

you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.

"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."

dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."

#⛓.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #touya todoroki x male reader #my hero x reader #my hero x y/n #boku no hero x reader #x male reader #bnha x you #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi imagine

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dark9896 · 3 years ago

Text

A visitor<3 [Klaus x Reader]

This little fic was requested by anonymous 😂

Klaus was glad they were able to get through the imp outbreak without anyone getting injured, though he was surprised to see a foreign vehicle in the driveway. He hadn't been expecting any visitors, nor were you, judging by the confused look on your face.

Klaus was thoroughly shocked to see his mother sitting in the living room, Head maid Katherine Bates standing just behind her. While he wasn't particularly worried about his mother showing up unannounced, he had to wonder what arrangements she had made, if any. How long she would stay and what she was doing here passed Klaus's mind in rapid succession.

"Kleiner Junge!" His mother practically jumped off the couch and bounced over to him, "Wie geht es dir?"

"Mutti!" Klaus leaned down, accepting the obvious hug, "Mir geht es gut. Und du selbst?"

You stood off to the side, shuffling awkwardly and rubbing the side of your chin with one finger. They were both speaking German. Klaus had taught you some stuff. Simple phrases and terms of endearment, but you were lost right now. The only clue you had was a couple photos, this woman was clearly Klaus's mother.

You noticed a familiar face, Philip Lenore, though he seemed to be busy. What was he doing with the flowers? There were vases in the kitchen if that's what he was looking for. Before you could say anything, Gilbert had stepped in. What was going on? Gilbert was usually a little more passive than this. You turned your attention back to your lover and his mother, still talking in a language you didn't understand. It must be second nature to him for this kind of thing. Though there was another woman standing just behind Klaus's mother. She seemed stern, but in a caring sorta way.

The less familiar woman cleared her throat, "Excuse Madam Reinherz, Master Klaus. I do believe the young person standing behind you is rather confused. Perhaps Master Klaus could enlighten us as to why?"

Klaus immediately turned light pink, "Ah, pardon me. Mutti, this is [Name]. We've been dating for a little over a year now. My apologies sweetheart, I forgot you aren't familiar with German."

"Its okay." You smiled, it was a more formal introduction than Klaus usually did, but for his mother's sake it was probably normal, "Its a pleasure to meet you Ma'am."

You thought you'd shake her hand, but she practically squeezed you in a tight hug instead.

"It is indeed a pleasure to meet you [Name]." She had such a kind voice, as if she read to children on a regular basis, "Kleiner Junge has told me so much about you. I must say, I wasn't expecting you to be so darling."

You blushed at her compliment, somewhat surprised Klaus had said anything about you to his family, "Thank you. I didn't realize Klaus talked about me much, honestly. He never seemed the type."

"Oh, Kleiner Junge hasn't gone a single call without mentioning you for something or other."

Klaus was incredibly relieved you were getting along so well with his mother, but could you two please change the subject? He wanted to melt at how you were doting on him to his own mother.

The three of you settled in the living room, you were sitting on the couch between Klaus and his mother since Klaus was taller than you. Not that his mother minded at all, she had been eager to meet her baby's partner, and spent a good amount of time just getting to know you.

"Oh, I brought a couple old photo albums, Kleiner Junge." His mother looked towards Philip who whisked off to fetch the book, "I thought you two would like to look through them."

"Of course, Mutti." Klaus was screaming internally, there was no stopping his mother from showing you how small he use to be. No end to the embarrassing stories you would likely tease him over later, "We would love to."

You smiled and nodded politely, curious to see what Klaus had been like as a kid. You wondered if he always had fangs, and when he began styling his side burns like that.

Klaus's mother did not disappoint. Klaus just wanted to disappear when you started cooing over him as a child.

"Awwww, you looked so precious Klaus." He had to try and cover his blush, "Look at the little dimples!"

"He was such a sweet boy as well. Barely reached my waist at that age. And always covered in dirt from the garden, simply fascinated with the insects and trying to pick the ones that helped keep the garden healthy."

While Klaus was delighted to see your eyes sparkle like that, listening to your soft chuckling, he was absolutely mortified that his mother would phrase it like that. And his distress didn't ease up any when his mother brought up having his own children.

"Hm." Were you really entertaining the idea? "We haven't talked about it yet. Then again a little over a year with demanding jobs doesn't really make it easy to discuss things like that."

"Oh, you work as well Anonym?"

"Yes Ma'am. I would honestly go a little crazy at home all day with hardly anything to do. Given that I was raised to be independent and all."

"Of course, of course. Though once you two have little ones....."

"Mutti, please." Klaus really couldn't handle much more of this, "Perhaps we could discuss something else?"

His mother smiled, but you could hear just how badly Klaus was under the surface. However....

"Madam, I'm afraid we should depart. A nice rest at the hotel before your plane first thing tomorrow morning?" The Head Maid had interjected.

"Oh! Is it that time already?" Klaus's mother hopped in her seat, "Oh, I'm sorry Liebt. I should go."

"It was nice talking with you Ma'am." You had stood at the same time she did, ready to accept her embrace this time, "I hope your flight goes well."

"Thank you, Anonym." She turned to Klaus, "I await your call Kleiner Junge."

You walked with Klaus and his mother to the door, not understanding a word they said for farewell. Just glad you seemed to make such a good impression on someone so important in Klaus's life.

#bbb #kekkai sensen #kkss #blood blockade battlefront #klaus von reinherz #ask

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hournites · 3 years ago

Note

I have a potential prompt for a one shot if you are interested.

Would you write a fic where Rick (and the rest of the JSA) are worried about Beth but she finally shows up safely? Everyone is so relieved, especially Rick... so much so that he goes to hug her but he forgets that his hourglass hasn't completely run out yet and squeezes her too tight. Beth is all like "Uhh, Rick? I can't breathe!" So he quickly (and awkwardly) lets her go.

I think it could be slightly angsty but also cute.

The Disappearing Act

They meet back up behind the garage as planned. Yolanda slinks in from above a roof with Courtney blazing in on the seat of her staff behind her, not nearly as concerned for stealth.

Rick shakes his head at the two. “Where’s Jennie and Beth?”

“I’m here!” They all raise their heads up at the sound of her voice floating in the air.

"Wait." She quickly powers down, setting down her lantern as she shakes out her hand. “Where’s Beth?”

“What do you mean?” Rick questions. “She’s supposed to be with you.”

Jennie glances up from her ring with a sharp breath and glowing eyes. “No, she left me to find Courtney after you called.”

Courtney swerves around. “Me? I didn’t call her!”

Yolanda raises an eyebrow. “What call? I was with Court the whole time, she didn't call.”

“I don’t know, she got it through her goggles, so she left.” Jennie took a step back. “I would’ve gone with her, but we were meeting up here now anyway. I thought she’d be here.”

“So Beth’s gone?” Courtney cries. The cosmic staff flares up as she gets more agitated. “How could you lose Dr. Mid-Nite?”

“I didn’t lose her, Courtney, I trust Beth to make her own decisions. This isn’t my fault!”

“Alright!” Rick snaps, stepping between the two of them before things get out of hand. “It’s only been five minutes. How about we try actually calling her?”

Yolanda’s already on it, pressing a hand to the side of her helmet to get a signal through the coms as she stalks. “Dr. Mid-Nite, It’s Wildcat--Do you copy? Or hear me? Anything? Mid-Nite? Beth? Hellooo?”

Rick pulls down his hood and rakes his hand through his hair. “Where were you when this happened, Jennie?”

Jade light leaves Jennie’s eyes as she backs against a wall, holding herself stiffly. “I-I don’t remember."

"Well." Rick gives her five seconds. "Think harder."

"Okay! Okay! Um...I think we were near the office building for The American Dream.”

“Was anyone suspicious with you? Or around you?”

“What kind of question is that? Why would Jennie be with anyone suspicious?”

Courtney rolls her eyes. “I meant did she notice anything?”

“Beth this is Yolanda, this isn’t funny anymore. I’m serious, please say something....”

“No! I don’t think so!”

Rick spins on his heel.

“Where are you going?” Courtney yells after him. “We can’t split up now! What if there’s actually a villain out there?”

“That’s exactly why we need to find her instead of wasting more time.” Rick flips his hourglass. “You get Pat. I’m going to the American Dream with Jennie.”

“I’ll stay here,” Yolanda tells them. She whacks the side of her helmet again. "Dr. Mid-Nite, do you read me?"

Courtney points out her helmet isn’t broken. It’s just Beth not answering, which doesn't get well received by any of them.

"Geez!" Courtney hugs the staff to her chest, with a grimace, properly scolded. “Get Pat and shut up. I got it!”

~.~

Pat jogs out of the Pit Stop, wiping his sweaty brow with a rag when he hears the loud noise coming in from outside. “Did you find her?”

Rick kicks at the garbage cans lined up at the curb.

“I know you’re stressed.” Pat surveys the trash now littered along the sidewalk. “But you’re picking that up. And replacing those bins.”

"Fine!" Rick kicks another one.

Pat’s mouth thins into a straight line, evidently not being listened to.

“That would be a no,” Yolanda fills in with a frown. “Courtney’s circling around her neighbourhood. Pat checked the school. I’m still not getting anything from the coms.”

Rick lists off his search efforts in anxious detail, counting them out on his gloved fingers. “I tried the tunnels since her goggles don’t work down there. The ISA lair was empty. The cells were unlocked. I knocked down Grundy’s old cage, nothing.” He's frantic, tugging at the base of his hourglass, as though getting choked by his remaining time. “There’s nothing! I thought I could find that her goggles fell off or one of her gloves, anything—”

"Dr. Mid-Nite? Please answer. Make a noise if you can hear this. This is Wildcat, are you okay? Dr. Mid-Nite?"

“And I went back to the last place I saw her.” Jennie wilts, sinking down to sit on the steps. She wraps her arms around her knees, the lantern firmly placed at her feet. “This is my fault.”

Yolanda gives up on reaching Beth for a moment, taking a seat beside Jennie to console her.

“I should’ve paired with her,” Rick mutters, just barely loud enough for the others to hear. “We always do these stupid patrols together.”

“The patrols are not stupid!” Courtney butts in with a scoff. The Cosmic Staff charges at Rick in her defense. Unthinking, he swats it away with his strength, sending it flying out in the other direction.

“Hey! Don’t hurt the staff!”

“Whatever, Court!” Rick snaps. “Beth is actually missing and none of us have a clue as to where she is, we’re not going to be talking about your staff’s feelings—”

Yolanda wrings her hands and gets up abruptly. “Maybe the goggles malfunctioned again and she got lost somewhere.”

“She’s literally biked to every square foot of this town.”

“The goggles malfunctioning is a good theory, Yolanda.” Rick opens his mouth to retort and Pat continues before he can start another fight, “I’ve already given Barb a call in case she calls our house. Girls, why don’t you check your cell phones?”

The girls file back into the Pit Stop. Rick hovers by the door, reluctant to go in with them.

“Pat? Why aren’t you worried?” The tone borders on accusatory. Rick’s face is still covered by the dark mask, blending into the dark night, but his concern is transparent through his eyes.

Pat sighs. “It’s only been 2 hours. Beth is a smart girl.”

“She’s a smart, small, pretty girl in Blue Valley. A town full of murderers.”

“I’m well aware of that, Rick.” He pulls the rag out to wipe his face again. “But freaking out and hurting people’s feelings isn’t going to help anybody find her.”

“But—” Rick turns his face away, twisting the chain hanging from his neck again. “Sitting here isn’t helping either!”

We’re gathering clues and searching the town. I didn’t say we’re giving up.” Pat takes his time. “Look, I know you care about—”

“I just don’t know what I’d do if something bad happens to her!” He gestures at himself. “Or if this runs out and I can’t help her. It isn’t like Beth to….go silent.”

Pat claps a hand over the shoulder of Rick’s golden cape. “I know.”

“Pat!” Yolanda bursts out through the side door. Courtney and Jennie quick at her heels. “She’s okay! I heard her voice through the helmet! She’s on her way back!"

“What?” Rick shot up. “Where?”

Though he doesn’t have to look far. She’s at the corner, stumbling in her haste to get to them in the dark. The girls all scream and run and fly out to her, ignoring Pat’s insistence that Courtney and Jennie should at least try to conceal themselves in the middle of the road.

Rick sits back down heavy on the step, flooded with relief.

When Beth makes her way over, Pat checks to make sure she’s not wounded, but she waves him off, yanking down her green cowl. “I’m fine, Mr. Dugan. Just thirsty.”

“I’ll get you water!” Jennie practically shouts, rushing to the kitchenette inside the garage. “We’re never splitting up again!”

“What happened?” Pat exclaims. “We’ve searched the whole town!”

Her eyes slide to Rick and the glowing sand in his hourglass.

“You were all looking for me?”

“Yeah,” says Rick. “I was about to throw up.”

“Someone hacked into my goggles and faked Courtney’s call.” Beth cringes. “The Shade uh...wanted to talk?”

“The Shade?”

Courtney's curls whipped back violently. “He WHAT?”

“I’m okay!” Beth reassures them all again when they panic. “He messed up my goggles so I couldn’t use them until he finished what he had to say. He even dropped me off in his car by Richie’s when we were done talking.”

Courtney prompts, impatient, “And he talked to you about…?”

Beth sighs. “He’s giving Barbara an ultimatum about the Zarick artifacts.”

Yolanda grips onto her arm. “He kidnapped you to make a business arrangement?”

“He let me go afterwards!” Beth drops her gaze to her brown boots, feeling a bit embarrassed now that she sees how long she’s been gone. “He really wants that wand, Mr. Dugan.”

“I’m sure,” Pat says, rolling his eyes. “Barb and I will worry about the Zarick stuff tomorrow. We’re glad that you’re safe.”

Jennie returns with water and a snack. Beth takes a sip then excuses herself to change out of her Dr. Mid-Nite costume. When she returns, she settles next to Rick, who hasn’t said a word since their short exchange.

“So…” she starts timidly. “You were gonna throw up?”

Rick pulls her in for an embrace. She gasps. “Only you could have a whole civil conversation with a supervillain and walk out unscathed.”

“Rick! You’re crushing me!”

“Shit!” He lets go immediately when he feels the hard edge of the hourglass glowing in the wedge between them, reminding Rick his hugs right now would hurt. “Shit! Sorry! God, I’m sorry. I just didn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Beth throws her arms around his neck, squeezing tight. Rick closes his eyes, eased. He’ll let her do the holding. “I thought you were going to be mad.”

“What?” He turns to look at her. She’s so close, still hugging him, he has to look away. “No, I was worried. I turned the tunnels upside down for you.”

“Oh.” Beth lets go, but taps on the glass as the final grains of sand slide through the pinhole. “Really?”

“I’d do it again.” He clears his throat and adds, “For all of you, I mean. If you disappeared, um…” He trails off, unsure of why he’s feeling so awkward.

But Beth merely nods, seeming to understand. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” They both look down at his chest, watching the hourglass to power down. Beth shoots him a timid smile. “Want to try that hug again?”

“Sure.” He stands up and extends out a hand, reeling her in.

#hournite #fluff #angst #yes i can do both #stargirl #beth chapel #rick x beth #stargirl spoilers #hn fic #rick tyler #jsa #thanks for the prompt!!!!

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starkjoy · 2 years ago

Note

That’s okay, thank you for writing such an amazing fic in the first place! Take your time ❤️ I’m excited but this is a good exercise for my patience haha take care 💓💓

Thanks so much! Below is a WIP snippet sneak peek to tide you over. (And for anyone who hasn't caught up yet, you can read the first three chapters here)!

Tom clears his throat. “Anyway, you were great,” he says before Greg can expose him further, pivoting back to a lighthearted spirit, favoring his giddiness over his melancholy. “Almost had me fooled,” he adds with an awkward chuckle.

Greg’s expression falters momentarily before he spreads his smile further. “You were convincing too, man.”

“Well, our performances certainly won over the Academy. Speaking of, can you believe Connor made an appearance?”

“I know, man! Shocking!”

“Not ideal that we’re homeless, though,” he adds, hoping his tone provides levity to their otherwise difficult position.

The taller man blows air from his lungs. “Big time.”

“Whatever, Greg. Once I lock in your promotion, you’ll be able to afford nicer than Kendall’s hammy downs anyway. Fuck that place!”

“Yeah, fuck that place! I mean, it was nice. But uh, now that I think about it, I always thought the countertops were perhaps not crafted to the utmost quality? Like, one time I spilled coffee everywhere and I swear you can still see the stain.”

“Mm.”

“What about you? I mean, you own your apartment with Shiv, right? Maybe we can flex the blackmail a bit harder, strong-arm her to drop that end of the bargain—”

Tom extends a calming hand. “No, no, Greg. Best not push our luck right now.” He sighs, slips his hand into his slack pocket. As much as losing his apartment daunts him, it’s hardly the first time the possibility has crossed his mind. He pushed his wife down the stairs—it was only a matter of time before her ghost appeared, exiling him from her halls to haunt them in peace.

“I’ll figure it out later,” he continues casually. “For now, I guess I'll pack whatever the fuck I can fit in my suitcases and wheel them back here like a bohemian vagabond.”

Greg blinks. He points a finger to the floor. “Here?”

“We already paid for the night, why waste the booking? We’ll extend our stay a few days until we find our footing.” Tom swallows, warm. “Unless you’d rather us find another hotel? Midtown’s not ideal long-term, obviously, but—”

“No, no,” Greg interrupts.“This is nice. It’s just, to confirm, it’s cool if I stay here too?”

Tom cocks his head. “What, Greg, you think I’d let you rot on the streets? Did you forget everything I promised you an hour ago? Did my magical hands massage away the memory?”

“No, but I wasn’t sure if you were gonna make me stay in another room or something.”

Tom pushes at Greg’s shoulder, playful. “Of course you’re staying here too, asshole.”

“Cool,” Greg says, cheeks rosier than before. “We’re safer together, anyway, right? Like, if Ken were to discover we’re already separate bedding, that would weaken our story. Can’t have trouble in paradise!”

“Right!” Tom doesn’t remind Greg that they’d booked a suite with only one bedroom and that one of them would be relegated to the pull out couch—that’s the least of their worries right now. “Exactly!”

“And might be quicker if we packed together? We could go to mine first, then yours after? If you’re amenable?”

Tom thinks it would be quicker if they split up and packed independently, but he doesn’t have the heart to decline Greg’s thinly-veiled request for help. Plus, he doesn’t want to be alone while he stows his whole life into luggage, anyway.

Tom chuckles. “Sure, silly string bean, we can pack together.”

Greg smiles back, nose scrunched a bit at the affectionate moniker. “Shall we head out then, um…sweet…potato?” He cringes.

“The fuck, Greg,” Tom snorts, teasing instead of admitting he finds sweet potato fucking adorable.“That’s terrible. God deliver whomever you actually date.”

The younger man rolls his eyes, toothy grin peeking from his smirk. “I don’t know! I tried. You’re so weird, man.”

“You’re weird, asshole.”

“You’re weirder.”

“Go get your things, will you? I’ll call us a car.”

#tomgreg #anon #ask #devil's advocates #my fic

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kwonhoshi0 · 4 years ago

Text

𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 | fic

navigation | requests : open | 12th march 2021

pairing : dabi x fem!reader

genre : fluff, angst

word count : 3.1k

warnings : fire, death, trauma

themes : strangers to lovers, mutual pining, denial, story changes,

summary : you had to get away from the toxicity that is your father and the hero society. after 17 years of being trapped, you finally have a chance to escape but with a man you didn’t really expect to help. you wondered why he helped you, you don’t know it’s because you don’t question his looks, you saw him not his scars.

you didn't plan for this, you didn't expect him to save you.

the corrupted superhuman society, the toxic society you lived in angered you. maybe things would've been different if your quirk, or your parents weren't who they are.

they wanted to mold you into the perfect weapon against villains, were the villains really the bad guys? who had the right of calling people heroes and villains. what separated them.

those thoughts you asked yourself each day growing up, if you could even call it that.

everything was okay at first, you felt loved, but once your quirk manifested that changed, drastically.

training everyday until you couldn't move, the tears, the bruises. when would it be enough, is this really what it took to be a hero, to be deemed worthy of such a title?

you had already had to endure 12 years of training constantly, for your dad. you always wondered what is would've been like, to grow up in a stable happy home.

your father had been rejected by the superhuman society, his views were called sick and twisted. he wanted, needed to make you the best. that would've been okay if he let you have a childhood, if he trained you like a daughter not a robot.

your fathers quirk is jet fire, he can quite literally make jets of fire with his mouth. the green haired man wasn't always bad, he didn't always push you or bruise you. you remembered there was a time, he would hold you, he’d spin you around.

your quirk is the manipulation of fire, with the particles around you, you can create fire and other gases like smoke. it was a literal merge of your parents quirk, except you don’t breathe fire you create it with your hands.

your mother hasn't talked to you properly since your father started training you at the age of 5. maybe it was the guilt, she never questioned her husband, he had left another woman for your mother, personally you thought she was the last thing holding your fathers sanity together. the guilt of ruining you, corrupting you had haunted her so much she didn't even notice the scars and bruises on your body.

you had never had a real mother figure to show you how strong women are. she would never tell you this but she wondered where you got your anger and courage from.

everyone has a breaking point. yours was when you realized your parents would be living your life for you until they die. that terrified you more than you'd like to admit. the thought of living your life as a hero, a hero you didn't believe in or want to be. an entire lifetime in someone else’s shadow.

did you really live 17 years for this.

you thought about this as you stared up into your ceiling. it was 1am and you couldn't sleep, again.

you had had an argument with the green haired man you were cursed to call dad. it got heated and you locked yourself in your room, you had a bag packed full of clothes and money. staring at it you thought, is it worth it, will all this be worth it.

heroes and villains, you scoffed, they're all the same.

hearing loud steps coming up the stairs, you panicked standing up quickly and shoving the bag into your closet.

“y/n!”

“what” you looked at your door where the man stood, putting your book down next to you.

“training in 1 hour” you stared at him incredulously, it is 1 fucking am and this lunatic wants me to train, Now.

“no” you deserve sleep, you only finished training a couple hours ago.

“you will train with me in one hour, or else i’m taking your phone and you’ll be training until tomorrow night.” you sighed frustrated and angry as he slammed your door shut. of course he’d take away my one fucking escape.

your eyes darted to the bag peaking out the corner of your closet, maybe today is the day.

you stared at it for a minute before grabbing the bag and checking everything was in there before grabbing a couple more items of clothing and your charger cable. you quickly got changed out of your training clothes and shoved on some baggy jeans and a black turtle neck with some boots. ‘fuck okay, we’re doing this’

you grabbed a pillow and shoved it under your sheets to make it look like you’re sleeping and opened your window, your room was on the second floor so you weren't worried about the drop, you jumped down using smoke to soften your fall and you ran through the alleyways of the city.

after an hour of running you leaned against the wall of an alley and checked your phone to see 30 missed calls from your father. before leaving you made sure to turn off the tracking app and restrictions on your phone.

as you turned to run through the alley you felt eyes on you, a cold breath made the hairs on your neck jolt up, yelping slightly you jumped forward to see.. some sort of sludge monster?

‘fuck’ you breathed as it backed you against the corner, throwing your bag to the side you floated up a little with your quirk and blasted fire at it, it parted where you aimed the fire before molding back together, ‘strong, worthy of me’ it breathed and it collided with you making you scream out in pain, it was agony, it felt like it was ripping you apart inside out.

you could hear voices coming closer but you were a little preoccupied. you had an idea, you slowly created as much fire you could with your hands, the creature shrieked pushing you away as you gasped air filling your lungs again.

you noticed a circular black matter at the end of the alley where the sludge monster appeared from, before you could inspect it it shrunk until it was nothing.

the same voices you heard earlier yelled as the sludge monster slipped through the drains “she’s valuable, she defeated that monster” a man said coming closer to you, you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows “touch me and you die” you breathed standing up from the dirty alley floor. “feisty too” he chuckled.

you were outnumbered, it was 6 to 1 in a small alleyway. before the men could come any closer a voice behind them made them turn, ‘the people you wanted dead are just that, where’s my payment ’ you couldn't see his face so you attempted to look around for an escape, you noticed a drain pipe leading up to a sturdier metal one, if you could jump onto the electric box and swing your up you could make it onto the roof, you just needed to time it perfectly.

one of the men turned to keep an eye on you, “we’ll have your payment in a week” the man in the middle scoffed turning back to you, “you know that’s not good enough, the payment, now or i’ll burn you to ashes” he said with venom laced in his voice, one of the 6 men had moved to the side, you had a clear few of who they were talking to you, you felt as your face heat up at him but you shook it off.

you raised an eyebrow at him signalling to the metal bar, you weren't sure if he’d help you but he’d probably help you if it was for his benefit as well. he flicked an eye between you and the metal bar immediately smirking at your plan.

you took his smirk as a confirmation and grabbed your bag from the floor and lifted yourself up with smoke from your feet and jumped swinging yourself from the metal bar to the roof, before you could fully push yourself onto the roof you felt a hand gripping onto your leg, you tried shaking the man off only to feel blue heat take over the alley beneath you.

your eyes widened slightly as the scarred man continued burning the men below you, “stop it!” you yelled as he raised an eyebrow at you the blue flames dying down to nothing.

you sighed in relief rolling onto your back, the men scurried away, burnt but alive.

“why’d you stop me?” he asked, you supported yourself on your elbows as he climbed up onto the roof, he didn't look mad, it was a genuine question. “i don’t know maybe i didn't want to see anyone die.” you deadpanned sitting up dusting the dirt off of your clothes.

he looked at you as if you were the most confusing person in the world, you hadn't asked about his scars or flinched when you saw him, or stared at the purple marks around his face and body. he wanted to know why.

“what?, do i have something on my face” you pouted slightly running a hand through your hair. “no, just surprised” you pursed your lips as if waiting for him to say more, you stood up and grabbed the bag full of your belongings you mumbled a “thanks”.

“what was that smokey?” he smirked, a nickname, really. you rolled your eyes at his remark “you should be thanking me as well, without me you would’ve been cornered” he nodded a little at your words “hm well, what’re you doing out here”.

“ran away” you said quickly as you stared at the missed calls on your phone screen. “i need to get away from here” you added as he watched your every move as if trying to decipher you.

“well, you wanna go to hosu?” you looked up at him in disbelief, “what’s in it for you”, he looked conflicted you weren't great at reading people, its not like you had friends or anyone other than your parents around growing up.

“might change my mind” he grinned before motioning you to follow him, you cautiously followed his steps along the rooftop. “wait i don’t even know your name”. he turned around for a split second before jumping onto another roof, you did the same, “what’s yours”.

“y/n mido- just y/n” if you were really going to leave this world behind then this is where to start, leaving behind your fathers name.

“names dabi, why did you run away” he’s intriguing, besides you needed to get as far away as possible and he’s willing to help so telling him this isn't exactly a danger to you.

“my dads a dick, he’s trying to train me to become the greatest hero but if this is what it takes to have the fucking honor of being called a hero then i don’t want it. i don’t want to be controlled my whole life, or live a life i don’t want”.

“huh, sounds familiar” he joked leading you out of the alleys closer to the lit up streets of the city. you smiled at his joke before jumping down the building as he did using smoke to soften your fall again, he zipped the trench coat up around his mouth and let the hood cover his hair, his piercing blue eyes and nose were the only facial features visible, you laughed slightly at the sight making him roll is eyes at you.

you moved to peak around the corner of the alley, dabi stuck out a protective arm before peaking out as you tried to do a couple seconds before. he let his arm fall to his side again before motioning you to join him, you walked beside him.

the large lights and billboards made your eyes go wide, “what you never seen the city at night before?” he joked watching your expression stay the same, you looked like a child seeing fireworks for the first time, it was endearing yet sad. had you really been isolated like this, never even seeing something as simple as lights in the darkness.

“i told you, my dad trained me most of my life, so I've never had the luxury of seeing this, never mind at night.”

he hummed at your words as he turned another corner grabbing your arm and dragging you in at the last second making you yelp, a couple motorbikes and cars stood in a line along the small street. the man eyed each of the bikes, you watched as he grabbed a key from a pocket in his oversized trench coat and placed it into a black and blue motorbike before throwing a leg over the seat and turning a head to you. “you coming or not?”.

you grinned before jumping up into the seat.

the world blurred past you, lights buildings and people became one, it really was beautiful, your wide eyes tried to catch everything as you sped past. “where are we going!” you yelled over the noises of traffic and people. “1 day in the city, then hosu city”.

you had never felt more alive, of course you were taking a risk going somewhere you didn't know with a stranger but this was better than being trapped in a house you couldn't call home.

you gripped his waist as he sped up slightly, he probably didn't how much you hadn't seen, or how much you'd been cut off from the world you thought, in reality he knew more than anyone.

he was busy in thought as you sped past the lit buildings, he watched in the small metal mirror at your expression.

she’s the type to fall in love with everything unreachable, just like i once did.

maybe this was a bad idea, i could’ve just told them i lost her.

the sun started rising a little after you left for the centre of the city, the sunrise you knew all too well rose, sleepless nights led to you watching the sunrise on the rooftop of your house. it was lonely, being alone wasn't something you thought about often. people are disappointing is what you had been taught through experience but however much you wanted to be okay with loneliness you knew you’d find someone to change that, a friend.

“aye you still awake?”,

“mhm”, he grunted in return as you asked him about how much he’d seen of the city, the conversation went onto talk of your family.

“my mother, she was so in love with the idea of my dad that she kind of just ignored how he treated me, they were good parents at some point, but somewhere along the line that changed”

the day was the most fun you had ever had and much to his disgust you went shopping, you were taking a while “fucking hell, yeah that’s fine”, you frowned at his tone before grinning “hm ill find something better”.

“No, no that is good, yeah its great stick with that”, you laughed at his annoyance before going to pay, “i’ll pay” you shook your head a little grabbing the card you put your fathers money on.

he rolled his eyes before shoving his own card in the machine and punching in a couple numbers, you thanked him and took the bags resting them on your arms.

the day went by faster than you liked, you soon found yourself heading towards the motorbike, the black haired man followed next to you eyeing your every move.

she’s going to hate me.

you followed the road out of the city towards another, the lights slowly becoming only dim streetlights. the bright yellow lights of the city were far behind you but even within the peace something was off, you could feel the tension between you and the male, even if you were to ask its not as if he’s going to tell someone he’s known for a little over a day.

“where are we staying in hosu?” you tried to fill the tension with small talk, the man sped up a little before answering “with a couple uh friends, they’re weird”. you nodded as if he could see you, just as you were about to ask him about his ‘friends’ you felt a drop of water hit your cheek.

as the rain slowly got heavier you giggled feeling the drops slide down your face, “what’s so funny smokey” he turned slightly to look at you, you blinked the rain out of your eyes to look at him not expecting to see his bright cerulean eyes looking straight into yours, your breath hitched slightly but you didn't look away, his eyes averted back to the road again and you let out of a breath you didn't know you were holding.

he found himself somehow jealous of the fact that the rain got to touch you, your eyes lit up as you watched the lightning flash across the night sky.

he huffed in anger at himself for even feeling these things, whatever, shes gonna hate me after this anyway.

with only an hour left for hosu you felt yourself getting tired and you grabbed a monster from your bag, you opened the can shuddering a little at the cold you chugged most of the acidic down your throat before hearing the boy in front of you elbow your knee, his hand was held out for the drink, you rolled your eyes pouting slightly and handed him the drink, the rest of the sugary drink drained down his throat.

something about him intrigued him, maybe it was his mysterious nature, mystery had always drawn you in, it was fun figuring out mysteries and conspiracies, so why is he so difficult to figure out. his eyes were the most mysterious to you, his bright ocean filled eyes. they held so many stories, so many emotions you couldn't decipher.

“hey i asked you a question” you shook away your thoughts and asked dabi to repeat it he sighed shaking his head before smirking for a split second, “i asked how much you hate villains”, you furrowed your eyebrows at his question.

“i don’t hate villains.” you said simply he looked back at you as if asking you to carry on.

“its unfair how quick people are to decide the difference between heroes and villains, most heroes aren’t even good people, they're just fakes hiding behind the mask that is saving people, you hurt people in secret your whole life and then save a couple people and you’re suddenly a hero?, i don’t hate villains, i hate people who think get can choose who’s a hero and who’s a villain just from their appearance”.

he thought for a couple minutes before his lips curled into a small smile, she really gets it huh.

“i’m not stupid, i know you’re deemed a villain dabi, but you don’t seem one to me”, his smile softened a little as if you said the most meaningful words to exist, he felt his walls slowly breaking for you, worst part is he let it happen.

he turned one final corner before parking outside what looked like an abandoned warehouse, you hopped off the bike and followed the man to the door he sighed slightly, he let you go in front of him, you stopped at the door and turned around to look at him questioning his sigh.

he inched closer to you as your back pressed against the door, your eyes widened as his former comforting smile turned into a sad smile, as if he wished this could last.

your breath hitched as his face got closer, he grinned for a second his nose brushing against your own, just as you thought he was going to kiss you he pulled back slightly and lifted his hand which was clenched as if he was holding something, his hand stopped level to his mouth, he opened it and blew the powder into your face making you immediately collapse.

you didn’t expect him to save you anyway.

A/N : damn so part2? DJSF

FUN FACT : manga spoiler : when he said “ she’s the type to fall in love with everything unreachable, just like i once did.” he was talking about his desire to become the greatest hero with his quirk but because of his body is was unreachable.

taglist : @todoroki-shoto-is-life @blazedbakugou @luluwiie @blue-gold-demigod-clouds @gazelle-des-pres

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serosbows · 4 years ago

Text

Cloud Nine

word count: 2k+

——————— sero hanta x gn! Reader———————

Sero spontaneously decides to let the bakusquad know you guys are dating during a smoke sesh. His boldness seems to be contagious what could possibly go wrong?

WARNINGS: 18+, recreational drug use, cannabis use, drug paraphernalia, swearing, suggestive themes

I understand that not all individuals are comfortable with the idea of smoking/ cannabis use I will be putting out more fics for you guys to read!

Minors do not interact!

Also- goes without saying this fic in no way is me condoning illegal activities. y’all stay safe and be responsible

I’m really sorry for any grammar/spelling errors, I am dyslexic n words be hard

Thank you for your support! Again please read at your discretion. <3

——————————————————————————

Friday nights.

The nights you and the Bakusquad would spend in Seros room winding down from the strenuous week of training, the smell of cannabis thick in the hotboxed room.

You’re not sure how you’ve always ended up in this situation, knee to knee with Sero as you work on breaking up the batch of the sticky green plant that Kaminari swore “was the best shit” he bought. Yet, here you find yourself working in tandem with the raven-haired boy as you hum along to some song he has going on his phone.

“Can you hurry it up already?! I want to get this party started”, Kaminari whined as he watched your fingers impatiently. “This takes time and precision,” you retort back, “respect the craft for a second!”

Leaning back on his hands, Kaminari pouted and looked over at Kirishima who was fiddling with the many empty chip bags scattered around him and Mina. “Don’t look at me, dude! Just wait patiently! We all know Y/N rolls best”, Kirishima chirped.

As if the man got shot point-blank in the heart with a revolver, Sero clutched his chest with an exaggerated gasp, “how DARE YOU”, he seethed at Kirishima who bashfully shrugged. “You would pick Y/N’s rolling over mine?!” Sero yelled, shoving an accusatory finger towards you. Kirishima whistled in what was his attempt to be nonchalant, trying to avoid any further questioning from the now “big angy Sero”. (as you have come to call the puffed out cheeks and pouting lips he is now showing off).

Since this ritual started, you and Sero have found comfortable solace in each other. The calming, open nature of the tape boy had you falling head over heels for him faster than you could realize.

Luckily for you- he felt the same way.

The night he asked you out was forever engraved into your mind, the thought forming a smile on your face anytime you recalled the event.

The bakusquad had just packed it up, deciding to call it an early night, leaving you and Sero alone to continue the smoke sesh on Sero’s plush bed.

You remember that when he started arguing with you about how long you took to prepare the blunt for smoking, the sultry tone in Seros voice began to show. The sudden change had you realizing how thick the air around you two seemed to be.

“Bet I could do better in less time”, Sero said smugly, leaning into you. His movement had you adverting your eyes from your fingers and upwards, the movement leaving Sero’s nose only a few inches from yours. “W-What?”, you choke out, unsure if you heard him right.

His proximity had you inhaling his scent. Was it lemon? No. It couldn’t be, you deduced, it’s not as potent as a lemon, but it sure was some sort of citrus. Sero leaned back, pulling away from you. “I’m just saying. You take forever to roll sweets,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

You hurriedly collect yourself, attributing your absent-mindedness to Seros intoxicating scent. Shaking your head to come back to reality, you resume rolling the blunt. Sero almost worried about your silence, shifts worriedly.

When you looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers holding the almost rolled creation delicately, a sly smirk on your lips he was sure he was sent to heaven.

Sero was only brought out of his trance-like state when you groaned and laughed, “Okayyyyy~ sure. Whatever you say Hanta!” you said, adding an exaggerated eye roll for emphasis. “You know everyone prefers when I roll, you just get salty about it.”, you continued as you looked up at him once again, licking the paper of the blunt.

The way your tongue darted out to lick the paper in such precise little stokes had Sero losing his mind. Sure he thought you were attractive, but right now, the way you were looking up at him through you pretty lashes with your tongue out had him going nearly feral.

Trying to contain himself and his sudden change in body temperature, he retorted, “Hey! That's not true they just say that to be nice!” He proceeds to try and put on an angry face, puffing out his cheeks and pouting, scrunching his eyebrows for good measure.

“Awe~” you cooed looking at the literal baby in front of you. “Don’t get all worked up now big angy Sero! You know you LOVE when I roll.”, you said as you took the first hit of your creation.

The smoke filled your lungs with a pleasant heat, the high you originally had become more pronounced. Before you could blow out the stagnant smoke in your mouth, Sero grabbed your face with his hand, placing his lips on you with ferocity.

Your eyes widened. Was he trying to shotgun with you?? The smoke poured out of your mouth and into his, your body beginning to go slack as you finally fell into the smoke filled kiss.

You don’t know when you closed your eyes but they opened as Sero pulled away, blowing the smoke back in your face with a small chuckle.

You let out a few coughs and swatted away the smoke clouding your field of vision. When the cloud cleared, you were met with a red-faced Sero.

“I,,, Uh,,, I-I’m not sure why I did that….I’m so sorry.” Sero rambled on, trying anything he could in his power not to make eye contact with you.

You leaped at this cliche moment, pushing Sero back on his bed and straddling his waist. His hands instinctively landed on your hips. He looked up at you with wide eyes, unsure of what to do at this moment.

In a quick motion, you held the hand with the blunt in it behind you and leaned down to kiss Sero. The kiss left your body feeling weightless, your lips molding with his perfectly. His hands resting at your hips, giving them a light squeeze before his thumbs began to trace light circles on the skin over your shirt.

“‘Bout time you made a move Sero”, you said smirking down at him as you pulled away. “Hanta”, he corrected, “you’re mine now mi amor.”. Sero smiled and pushed himself up to place a light kiss on your forehead.

You let out a small chuckle, using your free hand to cup his face. “Then prove it…” you purred. The smirk on Seros face had you quivering with anticipation, a new wave of heat taking over your body.

Needless to say, the blunt was stamped out and you thanked every higher power in existence that no one found it odd that you were wearing Seros hoodie as the exchange in clothes between you two was common.

That night you came to the conclusion that it was tangerine and cinnamon, Sero smelled like tangerine and cinnamon. A scent that you would come to be addicted to.

If it wasn’t for the hoodie, the bakusquad would have for sure seen the many marks Sero had left on you so he could properly mark you as his.

When you came back from your flashback the rest of the group seemed to blur into the background as you focused on filling the blunt, eyes trained in on making everything even. In your peripheral vision, a certain raven-haired boy could be seen inching closer towards your face.

“Can I help you?” you said with a smirk, not looking up from your activities. “No, no, don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing. You look so pretty when you’re rolling baby~”, Sero said in a low sing-song voice that only you could hear.

Your hand movements halted immediately and your eyes widened.

Sero hasn't called you anything like that in front of anyone??? You enjoyed hearing the pet name come from his mouth, yes, however, you two have yet to make your relationship public.

“Sero…”, you warned, “you cant be distracting me right now.” Sero seemed to pay no mind to your words, coming in closer and placing a hand on your thigh. “At this point, I don’t care, sweets, we’ve been dating for... what? 4 Months now?”

A hand grabbing your chin startled you. Sero moved your face so he could make direct eye contact with you, his thumb runs across your lower lip, “let them know.” The devilish smirk on Seros face made your stomach drop. “Come on, you know what to do”, He whispered. You nodded and took his thumb in your mouth. Sero nodded in appreciation and basked in the feeling of your tongue running around his finger.

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth when he hears Bakugou yelling. “I TOLD YOU SHITS I WASNT THE IMPOSTER”, you look over to see everyone look up from their phones, thankful that among us kept the bakusquad from seeing the previous encounter with you and Sero.

“That means its Kaminari or Sero then because I was in electrical.” Sero furrowed his eyebrows, “What, I was AFK- yall SAW me breaking up the weed” he yelled. Kaminari huffed, “You know its not me!! All of you SAW me do the med bay scan.”

You, having been killed off the first round watched as a smirk formed on Mina’s face, rolling your eyes at her obvious lies that Bakugou and Kirishima have seemed to buy due to the accusatory looks being thrown their way.

As the common ‘defeat’ sound rand out, you began to lick the paper of the blunt, your fingers working deliberately to make the best creation you can.

“Yeah!! Lick that shit baby. You look so good doing it. I know what else that mouth can do” Sero yelled, you flinched a little, unsure how the bakusquad would react but if Sero was being bold you might as well join.

A spitting sound was heard next to you as Bakugou whipped his head towards Sero. “BRO!!! DONT GET THE SHIT WET!” Kaminari yelled as he grabbed the open bag of weed that was nearly ruined by Bakugou’s spit.

“What the fuck did you just say?!” Bakugou yelled. “I think you heard me. I didn’t stutter. Plus I’m just praising my baby!”

“WOAH, WAIT! WHEN?!” Mina squealed.

“Sero got a date before me?!?!” Kaminari whined.

“You’re joking,” Kirishima said

You worked to silence the group, “First of all…” you started, “Sero.. you said that shit in front of my blunt bro...Disrespectful as FUCK. Second of all yes, we’re dating, we have been for 4 months.”

“5 on the 14th!” Sero continued as he placed a hand on your head, messing up your hair.

You laughed and shook him off, flattening out the hair Sero just ruined. “Yeah yeah…. Now give me a kisth” you said while looking over at Sero who happily obliged.

The kiss was quick but it left you weightless. Pulling away, Sero began to move you around. “What are you doing??” you said as you took another hit of the blunt. “You just sit here.” He said as he placed you between his legs, his arms coming to wrap around you, his chin resting on your head. “I want to hold my precious baby”

The softness in his voice would have the rest of the bakusquad thinking Sero was just trying to be cute and show affection. You would have thought the same thing if it wasn’t for the evident hard-on pressing into your back.

You smirked, an idea coming into your head. Passing the blunt to Bakugou, you placed both hands in your hoodie pocket. In one smooth movement, you gripped the left sleeve with your right hand and inched your left arm out of its cozy confinement.

Lightly dropping your arm to your side under the hoodie, you slipped your hand behind your back. Dropping your head back on Seros shoulder and turning your nose to graze it across his neck. “You keep quiet and maybe ill help you with your problem, yeah?” You whispered as you began to run your hand over the tent in his pants.

Seros breathing hitched, his grip on you tightening. He didn’t stop you however, the feeling of your fingertips grazing the skin above his pants and slowly dipping under his waistband had him intoxicated.

He just hoped he could follow your orders and keep quiet.

#sero hc #sero x y/n #sero x reader #sero hanta #bnha writing #sero smut #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x you #stoner!sero #bnha x reader #gn!reader #sero x gn! reader #this is my first fic #i am terrified #plz let me know what you think

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swordofpevensie · 4 years ago

Text

Anything I Do, I Know You’re Gonna Watch

[Chapter • I]

warnings: academic rivals to lovers, set in 1946, peter x you, strict family, mentions of nervousness, stress, war, uni students (equal of stress actually), both peter and you study medicine because i love the idea of peter being a doctor, i emphasize peter was a king a lot (because like,, why not?).

a/n: i strongly needed an academic rivals to lovers fic with peter, so i wrote it myself eheh. i don't know how long it will be or how frequently i'll share because uni is literally crushing me. anyways, wow i am so excited to share this with you. there might be mistakes as english is not my native language, feel free to correct me please. also, i checked the oxford's website to get the info about uni & lecture. still, if there is something wrong, please inform me. i sincerely hope you like it, please tell me what you think. ♡

word count: 1067.

playlist: (yes, as i'm so excited that i even made a playlist)

oh johnny, oh johnny, oh! • the andrew sisters

campus • vampire weekend

heartburn • wafia

collide • tianamajor9, earthgang

you haunt me • sir sly

killer queen • fil bo riva

willow • taylor swift

d is for dangerous • arctic monkeys

tear you apart • she wants revenge

are you gonna be my girl • jet

braindead! • yungblud

greek god • conan gray (the song that gave the story its title)

tighten up • the black keys

achilles come down • gang of youths

library pictures • arctic monkeys

anna sun • walk the moon

everybody talks • neon trees

hey now • the regrettes

rumors • sabrina claudio, zayn

lover i don't have to love • bright eyes

you always hurt the one you love • the mills brothers

C H A P T E R • I

You took a deep breath before entering the classroom. It was the first class of the first day of your first year in the university and you felt very nervous and excited at the same time.

You were nervous because university was something new in your life and you had so many worries such as if you would find someone to be friends with, if you would be successful, if you would something embarrassing, if your professor would like you or not.

However you were excited because as a person who liked learning, you looked forward to attend to your classes and meet all of the new subjects waiting to be learnt. You had worked so hard to be there, in this university and in front of this classroom door, and finally being there felt amazing.

You took a step and entered the classroom. It was noisy and already crowded. It was a normal classroom, not a amphitheater one. You shortly looked around and saw a empty seat which was behind a crowded boy group. You walked towards there, trying to stay calm and not look at them. Your mother warned you very seriously and strictly about not getting closer with boys. She wanted you to be successful, not more. Boys were distraction according to her and she never wanted you hear that you got closer with a boy.

You sit and put your bag to the seat next to you. You took your notebook and pen out and started waiting for professor to come.

“Hey, isn't it Pevensie?” You heard a boy in front of you speaking.

“It really is.” Another boy replied. “I am surprised that he is here. I heard he couldn't afford the fees.”

“He probably got a scholarship. Don't you remember such a big nerd he was?”

“Ugh,” The boy said. “He was unbearable. I bet he hasn't changed. Probably still a caring brother everyone appreciates and the best student every teacher adores.” Although the words he used was in fact good, it was clear from his voice that he was mocking.

You frowned. Why did they talk about him in that way? Why did that Pevensie do? You look at the door that the boys were looking.

You saw a tall and broad shouldered boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore a white shirt with dark brown trousers. His boots were also brown. His black coat was on his arm. He had a leather messenger bag hanging on his shoulder. He looked just like any boy in the classroom, except for the fact that there was something strange in the way he walked and stood. His steps were slow, however his walking made him seem strong. When he first stood up looking for a place to sit, you saw that he stood very upright, his chin was up a little bit. Nothing about him was underestimating, his eyes didn't look others in that way. But he just seemed strong, in a weird way that you had to gaze at him to figure out.

Then you realized what you were doing and looked directly to your notebook. You thought he didn't see you but he did. He smiled to himself but fastly stopped and went to sit to the empty chair which was away from yours. It was the only empty chair left, otherwise, he would like to sit near you and find out the reason behind your curious looks.

Thankfully, the professor came and started talking. The whole class was silent now. You focused on the professor and every word she said, sometimes took notes down. She introduced herself, the lecture, and said she'd start although this is the first day.

The subject was about the relationship between patients and doctors and the professor asked how the relationship should be in general.

You and he raised hands immediately. You were so excited and ready to answer because you spent your holiday with studying beforehand for the lectures. You went to libraries, read everything you found related to your courses.

He was quicker than you, so professor chose him to speak.

“Peter Pevensie,” He introduced himself.

“Yes, Mr. Pevensie,”

His answer didn't last too long but he expressed his opinions easily and quickly. You noticed he spoke somehow wisely and as if someone asked him to give advice. You couldn't understand why he spoke like this but then you thought you were paying attention to him so much. Therefore you took a short breath and focused on the professor again.

After he was done, you raised your hand and the professor let you speak.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” After introducing yourself, you started to express your opinions, which were the opposite of what Peter said. You thought doctors could be emotional and friends with their patients while Peter said doctors must be logical and distant.

He turned his head and looked at you, watched you as you spoke. He liked that there was someone he could compete with and share his ideas, also argue. He liked to argue because he thought arguing respectfully was a way that someone can improve themselves.

After you finished, three more students began to speak however Peter didn't pay attention because he still was watching you and analyzing you. He carefully looked at your clothes, how you kept shaking your leg, how you kept notes and listened very carefully. He was glad that there was somebody he could try to be friends with but above all, compete and beat. That was an old habit of him, competing and beating.

Like they said, the leopard can't change its spots.

Throughout the lecture, you and he constantly raised your hands, spoke, and listened very attentively. Everything you and he said opposed each other. At some point, you thought he did that on purpose, maybe he was objecting to your ideas deliberately just to annoy you. But then you thought why would someone at your age do such thing? You decided to not care at all. You weren't supposed to think about anyone, you were supposed to think about your lessons.

That was what you were thinking when the class was over and you were leaving the classroom to go and buy a coffee.

On the other hand, Peter was thinking about you, but he had some plans. Plans that included defeating you and being the best in the department.

okay, okay, it really happened. i finished writing. oh god i am so excited about this fic! please tell me what you think. i hope you enjoy reading!

love, andrea. ♡

#andreaiswriting #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #narnia fanfiction #peter pevensie #narnia imagine #narnia fic #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie fanfic #peter pevensie fanfiction #peter pevensie fic #academic rivals to lovers #peterpevensie #high king peter x you #high king peter the magnificent #peterpevensiefanfiction

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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years ago

Note

Lately, I've found myself drawn to stories ( and I mean drawn to as in envisioning those stories in my head, thinking them through to the very last detail, not reading, let alone writing them down, because I've long since accepted that they will never turn out quite the same on the paper ) where Red is the one who'd been seriously hurt and, therefore, rendered unconscious for an indefinite amount of time and worried Liz is the one who doesn't leave his side, hoping and praying and pleading that he would wake up. Probably, something that has to do with how unfair it is that we've seen Red keep vigil by hurt!Lizzy's side – playing music for her, holding her hand, reading to her etc. – a number of times and yet, over the course of 8 seasons, never have ever been allowed the pleasure of seeing Liz do the same for him ( not even when he was shot – because she left to retrieve the Fulcrum and couldn't come back until the fight was over – or when he was poisoned – because she'd been waiting to be cleared to see him and he ran away the moment he wasn't actively dying, because that's Red for you all ), even though she loves and cares about him as much as he loves and cares about her.

I mean, just imagine the possibilities!

Liz pacing around the waiting area of Red's mobile hospital while he's in surgery, unable to think about anything else other than how he looked – battered and broken and barely alive – when they've found him and how his head rested in her lap ( she could almost convince herself that he was merely dozing, if he wasn't so deathly pale and still and there wasn't so much blood on his clothes and her clothes and her hands and the backseat of the car ) and his hand was limp in her death grip as they rushed him to his doctors and she whispered words of reassurance and encouragement to him even though she knew he couldn't hear her and how she had to fight the instinct to curl around her lover and snarl at anyone who would come close because she can't let him be hurt further as the medics took him away from her, exchanging observations and orders that didn't sound particularly reassuring. She's also acutely aware of the fact that Red is fighting for his life – there, just a few feet away from her – and, though he's the strongest man she's ever known, he may not win, and so she makes a promise to the empty air in front of her that she will kill him herself if he dares to give up on her and Agnes like that now, when they've just reached the good, right place in their relationship, just confesses their feelings to each other. At some point, Dembe most certainly pulls Liz in for a hug, letting her cry in his shoulder, doing his best to comfort her ( even though there's nothing that can bring her more comfort than Red's hug, when he – alive and whole – wraps his arms protectively around her and holds her close and lets her hide from the whole world in his arms, his chest, his shoulder and neck – wherever she prefers to burrow her face at the time – and the memory itself makes her cry harder, because there's a possibility that he will never hug her like that again ), even though he's just as worried and scared as she is, and Mr Kaplan helps Liz clean up, washing away Red's blood from her hands and producing seemingly out of the thin air fresh clothes for her to change into.

Red, of course, pulls through the surgery, beating all odds, and Liz's heart floods with relief at the good news before sinking when the doctor explains to her and Dembe and Mr Kaplan the extent of Red's injuries and that it's impossible to say when – or even if – he wakes up.

And so the waiting game begins. Liz doesn't leave Red's side, holding his hand, stroking his knuckles with her thumb and never letting go, constantly talking to him and reading to him and even asking Dembe to bring the record player and some records from the Bethesda apartment to play to him, hoping that it would elicit some kind of response from him. Yet, as they days go by, there's not a single, smallest sign that he's aware of anything that's going on around him, that he's still there somewhere and is trying to find his way back to her, to them – he doesn't stir, doesn't so much as flutter his eyelashes, and Liz grows more desperate with each passing day, even though the doctor assures her that Red's slowly but surely improving ( but she can't see it with her own eyes, and if she can't see it, she's less likely to believe it, the more time passes with him just lying there, undisturbed by the loud, chaotic world around him ).

And then there's Agnes... While Liz keeps vigil at Red's bedside, the babysitting duties are split equally between Aram and Samar, Charlene and Cooper, Ressler and Audrey and Dembe and Mr Kaplan. Yet more often than not whoever picks little Agnes up from school and / or her ballet classes brings her over to the safe-house where Liz and Red are. She doesn't seem to be as unnerved by Red's state as her mommy is, climbing on his bed each time she visits ( after giving her mommy the biggest hug, of course ) and leaning in close to him, examining his face thoughtfully before half-asking, half-stating "He's still tired, mommy?". And Liz usually replies with a hoarse "Yes, baby" because she doesn't trust herself not to get choked up if she tries to answer more eloquently. Agnes simply nods then, satisfied with the explanation why he hasn't woken up yet, and settles against Red's side – mindful of his injuries and the spider web of wires and tubes connecting him to all sorts of monitors and machines – and either naps ( especially, on ballet classes days ) or tells her mommy and Red ( she talks to him just like Liz does much too easily – promising him to show him the new moves she's learnt when he wakes up etc. – as if she's already done that before or seen anyone else do that... unbeknownst to Liz, she did both – when Liz herself was in a coma, Agnes both saw Red talk to her mommy and was encouraged by him to talk to her, too, because it may help her mommy sleep easier and maybe she'll get better sooner and finally wake up ) about her day or does her homework or draws ( more often than not, she draws either cards for Red to read when he wakes up or just things she wants him to see ). And when the time comes for her to leave, she always kisses Red on the cheek, wishing him "sweet dreams" and to get better soon, and then gives her mommy, who tries so very hard not to tear up but fails miserably, a hug and a kiss, too, and tells her frequently that she shouldn't cry because Red is just too tired, just like she – Liz – once was, and that he just needs to sleep a bit more.

And when the door behind Agnes closes and Liz is sure her daughter won't see / hear her, she breaks down hard, in big, ugly sobs, because her little girl shouldn't be acting so naturally in this kind of situation and because she wishes so hard that Red just woke up, because she can't do this, any of this, without him.

In the end, once his body has healed itself enough and he regained enough of his strength, Red, of course, does wake up. It's a slow process, and Liz thinks she might either faint or go mad from the overwhelming feelings that are swirling inside of her when Red moves for the first time in what seems to her like forever – squeezing her hand feather-lightly – and when he leans slightly, unconsciously into her touch when she strokes his cheek – out of habit, without even expecting any sort of reaction from him and being pleasantly surprised – and when he opens his eyes for the first time – it's a brief occurrence, with his eyes slipping shut tiredly again after just a few moments, and he's still pretty much out of it, apparently, not even noticing her presence by his side, but for Liz it's a major event – and when he finally, finally looks directly at her – alive and conscious and alert – and calls her "Lizzy". He's still weak and his voice sounds terrible and Liz knows she shouldn't let all of her pent-up feelings – the fear and despair and frustration and love and relief and exhaustion – out on him like that – he's just woken up, after all – but she can't hold back the tears nor the jumbled mess of "thank you"s and "I love you"s and " "I've missed you"s and "I'm so so happy you're back" and "I was so worried" and "Don't ever scare me like that again" that spills from her lips as she leans in to kiss him lightly and give him the gentlest of hugs...

(Since I'm not a ficwriter and, therefore, have no intentions of using this pile of ideas/images/feelings myself, I wouldn't mind at all if you or any other writer drew inspiration from this rambling of mine)

Ahhhhh 😭😭😭 Are you sure you're not a fic writer, anon?? Cause this reads like some quality hurt/comfort to me!! 🥲🥲 Honestly, this is a lovely scenario to imagine & it gives me a slightly bitter sense of satisfaction to think of Liz suffering through just a fraction of the time Red spent by her side while she was in her coma... especially if it's the catalyst for fEeLiNgS to emerge tee hee bc, you're RIGHT, we were woefully deprived of those situations in the show & I'll never not be sad about it tbh. More specifically, things I love the most about this in no particular order: Liz having to "fight the instinct to curl around her lover & snarl" *swoon*, Liz swearing she will kill him herself if he dies LMAO, Dembe hugging her for comfort & Mr. Kaplan helping her get cleaned up 🥺🥺🥺, Liz playing records for Red yasss, AGNES & everyone taking turns babysitting her while she misses her Daddy desperately but deals with the situation with a maturity & grace beyond her years in an effort to help her grieving Mommy through it cool cool mkay mkay, Liz only breaking down once Agnes leaves OWWW, anddddd Liz being a blubbering mess when Red finally wakes up & calls her "Lizzie" & they kiss *whispers* it's fine, i'm fine 🙃 IN CONCLUSION, I love this anon, thank you for sharing this lovely little AU with me!! 🥰 And much, much love to you, of course, my friend!! ❤️

#The Blacklist #Lizzington #Agnesgate #thoughts #headcanons #mine #ask #anon #ughhhhhhhh #this mini fic is packed with feels #and punched me right in the face #thank you for this gift anon #:')#much love!!#<3

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stories2you · 4 years ago

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Requested by: @kookoobeans

Genre: angsty,fluff

Tw: mild descriptions of depression and anxiety.

A fic of the Bai Sisters bumping into their Uncle Victor and asking for his advice for Aiyana's troubles.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

< that morning, Bai Mansion >

The family of four were having breakfast together for the first time as Gavin had finally returned from a long mission. As they had a quiet and peaceful breakfast, Youran decided to break the peace by asking her younger daughter a question,

"Aiyana, I think you should give up finding a job. Isn't it better for you to find a college instead? Or else you're gonna waste another year."

Aiyana's grip on her spoon tightened. She looked down to her plate with emotionless eyes.

'Not again...' She thought. She had a conversation with her sister not too long ago about finding a job before preparing for college.

She had missed a year right after graduation due to her wishes of retaking the national exams to complete the requirements to get into her dream college. They promised her a place with that condition. So she decided to drop all her plans and study hard for the subjects she decided to retake.

Alina agreed with her sister's choice and helped her with whatever she could. With their Uncle Shaw's assistance, there's a high chance Aiyana will pass the exams. That's what Shaw said when he comforted the girl when she had a downfall.

Hearing those words from his wife, Gavin asked, "What's wrong with her wanting to work? I don't see a problem. She should at least get an experience so she'll overcome her fears and step out from her comfort zone."

Youran sighed, "what if she decides to work all the way and only want to continue after a few years of working? She must go through college like Alina, or else the girl's not gonna find herself in a good place in the future."

Aiyana couldn't listen any further. She placed her spoon and left the dining room without any word. The room was noticibly colder. She was angry. Upset. Frustrated.

The coldness wasn't the one with warmth whenever she was excited or happy. There wasn't any warmth at all.

Alina looked towards where her sister went and looked back to her mother with a frown on her face, "She's crying. Her tears becomes ice when she's angry."

Youran had a disapproving look on her face, "that's something not worth to cry upon. It's the truth."

Gavin sighed and ushered his elder daughter to go after the younger one. Alina nodded and left.

< timeskip, at a cafe >

Aiyana had a book in her hands, a cup of her usual chocolate drink and blueberry muffin. She read the boom to pass time and release her stress. She was a regular at the cafe so she got her spot and orders easily.

A few moments later, she smelt a familiar scent of office and cologne. She looked up to see Victor. The man she least likely to meet. She couldn't even look at him due to shame and inferiority. His own daughter, her ex classmate and childhood friend, had been accepted to the same prestigious college she was promised to.

She avoided his gaze and continued reading her book. The man took a seat infront of her and cleared his throat, gaining her attention once again.

"It's been nine months, hasn't it, Aiyana?"

Silence. A nod from her was his reply.

"What's on your mind?"

'Straightforward as usual. Can't you get that I'm not in the mood? Leave.' She answered in her mind, purposely making the vibe between the two of them cold and eerie.

"So you're not talking. Well then, I'll ask your mother directly." He said as he took out his phone to call her mother.

'Do what you want.'

The bells of the door rung, Alina entered the cafe and spotted the duo together.

'Oh no... Why is he here?' Alina thought and rushed to her sister's side.

Aiyana looked up and saw her sister. She gave her a soft smile and ushered her sister to sit beside her. Alina took a seat and greeted Victor.

"Hello, Uncle Victor. It's been awhile. How have you been?" Alina gave him a friendly smile.

Victor returned the smile with his own, "It has. I'm fine, what have you been up to lately?"

The two exchanged conversation while Aiyana observed them. She still had no mood. Knowing Victor, she can never escape. So she decided to avoid his gaze and continue giving him a cold shoulder. Rude, indeed. But his words are too harsh for her now.

It's not the time.

Just... Not yet.

"So that's why she's not talking... Well, your mother's stupidity and insensitivity finally showed. She's merciless when she's stressed. Taking it out like that and bringing up Aiyana's weakness, calling it not worth to shed a tear is indeed very immature of her."

Aiyana's ears perked up and looked at her sister in anger.

'Why?' She communicated with her eyes.

'I just had too! I'm sorry!' Alina looked into her sister's eyes.

"Aiyana, listen. A few moments ago you just thought that my words would be harsh if you told me of your troubles yourself. Yes, it will. It's because you're not on your right mind. You'll end up twisting your mother's words and your own."

He has a point.

She placed her bookmark to the page she last read and placed it down. Giving him his full attention.

Victor finally gave her a warm smile. The one he gave to her and other fellow children. He continued,

"What your father said about you wanting to look for a job. Go ahead. It's a good way to gain experience and going out from your comfort zone. Part time is enough. Go find a job while continuing your driving licence. With two months left, you can do this to keep your time filled with beneficial experiences.

About college, I suggest you to find a teaching course so you won't get side tracked from studying. I know you're teaching at home through short recordings and calls. That's already good. But going for the course will increase your abilities and knowledge on teaching as well as the course you wanted at the college."

Aiyana's eyes widened. The lights in her amber eyes returned. The atmosphere between the three of them returned back to normal.

Victor reached his hand out and patted her brown hair gently, "Go for it. Gain experience and new skills. That's already worth your time."

Aiyana finally gave him a smile and whispered, "Thank you, Uncle Victor."

< dinner, Bai Mansion >

The atmosphere between the family was still unpleasant. Before Youran could speak, Aiyana spoke up,

"We met Uncle Victor at the cafe. He gave me a good advice. I'll follow my own path. I know what I'm doing, so please, mom, put your trust in me. Dad, please."

Gavin and Youran were surprised. To think that their daughters would bump into Victor was clearly unexpected and no good. With Alina's good relationship with him, the man understood and gave their younger daughter the words she needed.

Gavin gave his daughters a smile, "That's good. As long as you know what you want to do. We will step in to guide you both from time to time with your jobs."

Alina blinked, 'E-eh...?? Jobs??'

"Lina, go ahead and find a job. You're having a break now, right? So go out and find an activity or a job." Gavin smiled at his elder daughter.

Alina smiled and nodded. She looked to her mother, Youran had an apologetic smile. The woman went to Aiyana's side and crouched,

"Aiyana dear, I'm sorry. I don't mean to say those things to you. Go ahead and fill your thirst for experience and knowledge. As long as they are beneficial."

The family of four finally had a peaceful dinner and happily sharing their moments to Gavin who had missed them for a period of time.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Oof—! Finally. This one shot is based on my current problems. So to anyone who are going through this like me, just know that it's never the end. Go out to find experience and skills that benefits you. Don't worry, with patience and not giving up, you can do this. (•̀ᴗ•́)و

- admin Mayu.

#mr love queen's choice #mr love dream date #mlqc #mldd #mlqc gavin #mlqc youran #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin fluff #mlqc victor fluff #mlqc fluff #mlqc angst

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flutistbyday-1 · 4 years ago

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Bury a Friend

Chapter 1

Hello! Welcome one and all to my hodgepodge, hot mess express of a fan fic.

This is a “Supernatural” fic, and has an EXPLICIT rating.

⚠️ This is not suitable for those under 18. If you are reading this, you consent that you are over 18. ⚠️

This story will have themes of death, gore, sex, language, and self harm. This is your blanket warning.

Story summary:

Alex Walker is a Hunter. She’s known Sam and Dean Winchester for years, but when Sam left for college, they were all separated. The Winchester brothers are pulled back into Alex’s life seven years later. Follow Alex, Amanda, Alex’s best friend, Sam, and Dean as they navigate life as hunters and the precarious relationships that develop.

This is slightly canon, slightly AU. I’m still super new to the fandom, and I’m actually only on season seven of Supernatural as of June 17, 2020.

Song Inspiration: “Bury a Friend” by Billie Eilish

Parings: Dean x OC; Sam x ? OC x ?

Warnings for this chapter: Cussing

Chapter Summary: Meet Alex and Amanda

Word Count: 2135

Shout out to @muffinlover246fics for being an AMAAAAAAAAAZING beta reader.

Dean Winchester.

What. A. Man.

No, a God.

Alex had known Dean and Sam for years. 10, almost 11 years, to be exact.

Alex met them when she was just 15; just a teenage girl, who hadn’t even finished going through puberty yet.

When Alex met Dean and Sam, the girl was gangly, angled, and uncoordinated. The amount of times Alex tripped over her own feet or ran into a screen door, was too many to count. Alex was not a graceful teenager. She had tried activities like gymnastics to help, but she broke her arm and never went back.

She was a graceful adult, though.

Between puberty, her father’s training regime, and some miracle, Alex had stopped tripping over her own feet and started to become a true hunter.

Her father trained her mentally and physically. Alex could handle any weapon that dropped in her hands, She could single-handedly shove stakes through hearts, and she always made sure to have the upper hand. She was smart, too. She knew her limits and never bit off more than she could chew.

She used her small stature to her advantage: she could hide most anywhere and she could wiggle out most monster’s grips.

She was adept, daft, and cunning. She also knew to keep a low profile— nobody had been able to pin her down.

She was deadly.

Alex had met Sam and Dean through a family friend who knew John Winchester. They were all hunters; a life that Alex had desperately tried to escape. Her Dad would drop Alex off with Sam when he and John would go on a hunt. Dean was resentful that he had another “kid” to look after, but Sam was grateful to have another person to talk to. Sam and Alex were close up until the day he graduated from high school. Sam left after a huge fight with his father and never looked back.

Alex had mourned the loss of her friendship with Sam, but Dean never gave Alex a second glance. Which wasn’t surprising— Dean was almost 10 years her senior, nine years and 364 days… Not that Alex has counted or anything. She was just a kid to him.

Dean and John left seven years ago and Alex hasn't heard from a Winchester since.

When Alex started hunting, She began to track Sam and Dean. She followed their trail through newspapers. Once they had reunited with Ellen, Alex got a phone call every time they showed.

She had long tried to forget about her feelings for Dean, but she kept an eye on the brothers to make sure their paths didn’t cross.

Until the universe decided to pull the Winchester’s back into her life.

Alex was at the Roadhouse, nursing a whiskey, neat, when she heard a voice She thought she would never hear again.

“Alex?” The voice boomed from across the bar.

Alex turned to the source of the noise. A goofy smile coming across her face when she realized who was speaking to her

“Well, I’ll be!” She said to the giant man before her.

Sam had aged, but well. Under all that bulk of muscle, the kid that she knew was still there. She could see it in the kindness of his eyes. Even though the life of a hunter was cruel, he was still good.

Alex stood to hug Sam, but he swept her up in his arms and spun around. Alex laughed loudly but clung to him. She inhaled his cologne and all those good memories she had of spending time with the Winchester’s came back in waves of nostalgia.

“It’s good to see you, Alex,” he said as he put her back on her feet.

“You too, Sam!” Alex said, joyfully as she sat down. “Care to join me?”

Sammy nodded before turning to Dean.

“Dean, you remember Alex?”

Dean glared at her. “Yeah, Cameron’s kid,” he grunted. “Dumped her with me. Gave me another mouth to feed.”

Alex tsked her tongue at Sam before turning toward him. “Is he always such an ass?”

This earned a laugh from Sam. “Yeah,” he guffawed. “Yeah, he is.”

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “Can I get a beer, Jo?”

They waited until Dean had skulked off to the corner of the bar before resuming conversation.

When Alex was 15, their age gap made the world of a difference. But now that she was 25? 10 years didn’t seem all that bad. And Dean looked good for 35. Really good. Even though he was still an ass.

“So, what brings you here?” She asked Sam, turning toward him with a bright smile.

Sam shrugged. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a case. Dean was getting restless, so I suggested we come here. It’s the closest thing we have to a home.”

“You don’t go to Bobby’s anymore?” It was an innocent question, but she could tell it set Sam on edge.

Sam’s eyes darkened for a second.

“Consider the question withdrawn,” Alex half joked.

She knew Bobby had a heart attack and she also knew that neither Sam nor Dean had bothered to pick up a phone and call Bobby in almost a year— that’s why she was in town. She had hoped that the boys had long moved on from their relationship with Bobby.

Alex had called Ellen for her weekly check in when Ellen had told her Bobby had a heart attack. Alex rushed to Sioux Falls immediately.

Jo had gushed every detail about Sam and Dean to Alex when Alex and Amanda came to the Roadhouse three nights ago.

“How do you know about Bobby?” He asked, leaning closer to her.

It was Alex’s turn to shrug. “You and Dean are famous in this world,” she said nonchalantly as she downed the whiskey in one swig. “Word gets around. My dad knew him, too,” I offered. “Said he was a drunk.”

The truth was, Alex knew Bobby through her father as well. Her father and Bobby had been close for about twenty years before a hunt went very, very wrong.

Her father had almost gotten Bobby killed, and instead of owning up to it, Cameron pinned the blame on Bobby.

That fight created a rift between Cameron and Bobby that nobody could fix.

Alex had reached out to Bobby only twice in the past seven years— once to see if he’d help her. He said he had no interest in helping Cameron’s blood, and once more just to tell him that Cameron had passed away. Even though they weren’t in contact, she still cared for Bobby. She always drove by his house when she was in town, just to make sure he was alive.

Alex knew that if Sam and Dean found out that Bobby had been hurt, and almost killed, by her father, they would most likely turn on her. Bobby was the only family they had left, and Bobby hated Alex.

That made Sam laugh. “That’s what they all say. But those who know him—”

“Know he’s mostly sober?”

Alex and Sam laughed. She didn’t realize how much she had missed the younger Winchester brother. His presence was a breath of fresh air.

Jo poured another round.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked.

Alex looked at him, debating if she should tell him the truth. “Ellen’s like a second mom to me,” she said after a moment. “She likes to think she’s checking up on me, but really, I’m checking up on her.” It wasn’t completely untrue. Ellen did like it when Alex popped in, but only ‘cause she was a hunter and she was worried sick about Alex.

Alex could see the wheels turning in Sam’s mind and hoped he wouldn’t press it. Eventually, he nodded, accepting her words.

They fell into an awkward silence. They both knew that you couldn’t trust other hunters as far as you could throw. They both knew that Alex had just lied to him for a reason.

“Alex,” Sammy started.

She looked at him. Her heart broke when she saw the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for how I left things.”

Alex waved her hand dismissively. “That was years ago, Sam. C’est la vie.”

Alex moved to get out of her seat, but Sam’s hand was on hers in a second. She couldn’t help but look up at him.

“I mean it, Alex. I was so desperate to get out that I didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. I messed up.”

Alex could see the sincerity on his face. “Okay,” She whispered. She cleared her throat. “But I really should get going. The rowdy crowd is about to show up.” Alex gave Sam a shit-eating grin and slapped money down on the bar.

When Alex turned, she couldn’t help but notice Dean. Well, who Dean was chatting up, anyhow.

He was leaning against the bar, talking up her best friend, Amanda. Alex Looked back at Sam and winked. “Watch this.”

She walked over to Dean. He either didn’t sense her presence or didn’t care. Alex looked at Amanda, and Amanda noticed her best friend instantly.

Alex slightly raised her eyebrows, asking Amanda a silent question. Do you want me to stop this? When one friend was being hit on by men they didn’t like, the other would come over and would ask, “Honey, are you ready to go?” Before sharing a kiss with the other to get the man to go away. Most of the time, it worked. Sometimes, the guy was a creep and wanted to “join them”. Those guys usually got a punch to the nose.

Amanda gave a slight nod, inscrutable to anyone who didn’t know the pair .

Alex stepped in between Dean and Amanda, making herself known.

“Dean,” Alex crooned in a voice saved for men she thought were one step above Neanderthals, “I see you’ve met Amanda.” Alex smiled brightly, but her eyes showed a silent threat.

“Yes, I have, Sweetheart,” Dean said, with confidence dripping from him. He winked at Alex before turning to Amanda.

It took everything Alex and Amanda had not to laugh.

“I hate to break it to you, Dean, but you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Alex said in a tone that indicated that he should leave.

Dean stood up straighter. He looked down at Alex, literally and figuratively. “Is that so, sweetheart?” His voice challenged Alex this time.

Alex gave a small laugh. “Yes, it is Dean. You should leave before you get humiliated.”

“Ha,” he said, his signature cocky smile on his face again.

Alex shrugged her shoulders. “I warned you.” She wrapped her arms around Amanda’s neck and kissed her friend deeply.

Dean’s jaw dropped and Sam started laughing in the background.

Alex pulled away from Amanda and looked at Dean. He shrunk back from the pair and sank onto a stool. He was leaning on the bar again, shell shocked from what just happened. Alex knew he was a little turned on, too. It was in his eyes.

Alex raised her eyebrows suggestively while leaning into Dean.

He was disarmed by the powermove and lust, so it was easy for Alex to reach into his pocket and snag his wallet.

“I told you, Dean. Wrong tree,” She whispered seductively. Once the wallet was securely on her person, Alex discreetly pulled out her knife.

Her lips were millimeters away from Dean’s and she could tell he wanted to kiss her.

Alex licked her lips as one final distraction before slamming the knife into the bar top, pinning his jacket sleeve securely to the wood.

He reacted like Alex knew he would— He tried to bounce out of his seat, but was stuck to the bar top.

By the time he had successfully removed the knife, Alex was already halfway out the door, Amanda in tow.

“Keep the knife, sweetheart,” Alex called as she dragged Amanda out of the door and into the night.

Sam walked up to dean. “Dude—“

“Don’t say anything,” Dean threatened as he pulled his jacket back on. He patted down his sides. “Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed as he patted down his front and back pockets. “She just took my wallet!”

This made Sam, Jo, and Ellen laugh.

“Shut up,” Dean hissed.

Ellen leaned across the bar. “She may have been just “Cameron’s kid”, Dean, but she’s not a baby anymore. Her daddy died five years ago, and she was hunting on her own till she found Amanda two years ago.”

Dean looked at Ellen, then at Sam. He had definitely underestimated Alex.

Ellen could see the lust in Dean's Eyes so she clicked her tongue dismissively in response. “Don’t go messing with her, Dean Winchester. She’s had enough heartache for a lifetime.”

Dean stared at the door, hoping to see Alex again, and not just because she had his wallet.

#supernatural oc #supernatural fanfiction #sam and dean #sam winchester #sam winchester supernatural #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural fic #bury a friend #flutistbyday writes

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robbiessutcliffe · 6 years ago

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Friends // ILITW

A/N : So I finished my replay of It Lives In The Woods, and this idea ended up popping into my mind. It doesn't really fit into It Lives Beneath, canon-ically (not a word, but oh well), but I thought of it and had to write it! Though, I do have to say, the texting part in this fic isn't that great, but it's the only thing I could do to progress the story…

As always, please give any constructive criticism you have! I want to make my writing as good as possible!

Also, it's a really long post, but... I don't know how to put in a "keep reading" thing to make it seem shorter. I want to but, yeah, since I don't know how, I can't... If anyone could tell me, that'd be great!

Pairing : slight Noah x M!MC (Alexei), but it doesn't focus on that until more towards the end

Summary : After Alexei sacrificed himself to take Jane’s place, Noah felt that it was his fault. So a year later, he finds himself going back to the woods. This has been going on for a while, but one day… He's spotted.

Word Count : 3,385

Warnings : There are a few swear words throughout this. Other than that, I don't think there's anything else that warrants a warning, but if there's anything that you think should have a warning, just tell me so that I can write one up.

For the most part, Westchester was silent. The sun was falling slowly through the sky, dipping behind the horizon and painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and red. As for the surroundings of the small town itself? The streets were mostly quiet, lights flickering off in houses. After what happened, nearly a year and a half ago, the town had an unspoken understanding.

Don't go outside after dark.

This rule, however, could be good in some cases. Particularly this instance, as Noah quietly slipped through the streets, heading on his usual route to the forest. Despite knowing that it was very unlikely that he'd be seen by anyone, he still walked in the shadows, ensuring that. Even in his past six months of doing this, he hadn't slipped up once. He knew what would happen if he was caught. He would be arrested, and Alexei’s existence would likely be revealed someway or another.

And he simply couldn't take that risk.

Skillfully, he was able to reach the road that followed the edge of the woods. After doing this at least once a week for the past six months, he could follow the route with his eyes closed and still not get caught.

There wasn't even a moment of hesitation before he stepped into the woods and started walking through the undergrowth, used to the noises echoing through the trees.

— stacy and connor —

The Green siblings were driving along the road, Connor behind the wheel, while Stacy was reading something on her phone. The silence between the two was comfortable, though there was a little bit of unspoken tension between them. That, however, could be blamed on the fact that they were driving along a road they both dreaded, for it reminded both of horrible things. Skeletal monsters, shadows that could consume, and the loss of people dear to them.

They definitely had reasons for hating that road, and the area in general.

Because of that tension, neither spoke. Both knew that even if they did try to speak, it would turn to the conversation that they'd had many times, of “I miss him.”

“So do I.”

“I wish it hasn't ended like that.”

“ That bastard who did it all could've at least turned himself in. What, did he have no heart?”

By the end of those conversations, both of the siblings were livid with thoughts of someone who they had once thought was a friend.

Stacy glanced up from her phone, away from where she was reading the research she had gathered for one of the videos she made for work. She only meant to see about how long they'd continue along this road. Despite herself, she found herself glancing ahead of them, to the forest right on the side of the road, where trees cast ominous looking shadows over the cement of the street.

And as she glanced, she could swear she caught sight of something — or, someone — up ahead. Her entire body stiffened as she saw the tall figure walking into the shadows of the trees. But not before she saw the beanie.

The beanie that she could recognize easily, because the one person she hated most always wore it, never one taking it off.

“Connor!” She hissed, slapping at his arm. He looked over at her, ready to ask her if something was wrong. But she quickly silenced him, motioning for him to look ahead. And when he did, it only took a second for him to see what she saw.

In unison, they spoke one name that neither had spoken for oh-so long.

“Noah.”

Quickly, Connor turned off the engine of his car, not wanting to alert Noah of their presence, even if he had already disappeared into the woods. Stacy, meanwhile, swiped quickly out of her notes app, instead opening her texts. There was already a group chat between her, Connor, and the entire group.

Fingers flying over her phone, she sent out a text in the chat.

—

Stacy : Noah’s back. Saw him at the edge of the woods, along the road. Meet in that spot asap.

Andy : what?!

Lily : No way!

Dan : Are you sure?

Stacy : One hundred percent.

Ava : well this isn't how I expected today to go.

Lucas : Along the road? I'll be there.

Andy : it's about time that i got to kick his ass.

—

It wasn't long before the entire group showed up, surrounding Connor’s car as they spoke in hurried, hushed tones. A couple times, one of them shot a glance over at the woods. None of them had imagined ever seeing Noah again, thinking that he'd just stay running, and never come back.

“Can't we just kick his ass? He deserves it,” Andy hissed angrily, glaring at the trees, as if he could simply sense the negative energy pouring out. And perhaps he could.

Lucas let out a frustrated sigh, “I wish, but he's a fugitive. We're going to have to turn him into the police somehow.” He said, though he didn't seem too happy at the thought of not serving justice himself. As far as he knew, Noah had murdered one of the people he cared most about, and tried killing the rest of them as well. To him, it was plenty logical to want to be something like a vigilante in this case.

“Trust me, Andy, I want to do that, too, but it's really not safe—” Connor started, but he cut himself off, when he saw his sister making her way to the woods. “Stacy?! What the hell are you doing?”

“I have some anger I need to get out. And a lot of it has been held against this person for eighteen months. I say it's long overdue for me to get it out.” Stacy replied in a determined tone, only just glancing back at the group before entering the first carefully.

After exchanging quick glances, the rest of the group followed, not saying even a word.

— noah —

Not long after entering the woods, Noah reached the small, darkened clearing that he had visited dozens of times. By this time, the sun was almost completely behind the horizon, which was perfect, considering the fact that Alexei couldn't come out with the sun shining.

Silently, he sat atop the old tree stump in the center of the clearing, preparing to stay there as long as needed. Sometimes, Alexei didn't show up, or it simply took him some time. So, Noah always made sure to wait at least an hour and a half before leaving.

As he sat there, his eyes slipped closed. He wasn't tired, which he could thank his insomnia for. But this clearing brought back memories. Not all were happy, he had to admit, but the people in them made him happy, which was a feeling he didn't often have the joy of experiencing anymore. He knew, however, that the entire group hated him now — how could they not? But he still loved them, and cared for them… Even if he hadn't showed it that day.

At one point, his memories seemed to becoming so vivid, that he could hear the voices of everyone echoing through the trees. Ava, Andy, Lucas, Stacy, Connor, Lily, Dan. He could hear all of them. He frowned a little bit, and forced his eyes open. It was simply something of a dream, he told himself. He would never see them again. There wasn't even a chance of that.

Or, that's what he tried telling himself, even as he continued to hear the voices carrying through the trees on the slight breeze. Voices were accompanied by leaves crackling, branches breaking…

His eyes widened slightly. He couldn't be imagining things like that! Quickly, he spun around on the little stump, just in time to see a familiar group stepping through the trees and emerging into the clearing. Upon seeing all of them, his eyes widened, throat drying up as he clenched his hand into fists. All of them looked absolutely furious…

And he didn't blame them.

To no one's surprise, Andy stepped forward first, snapping angrily as he looked upon Noah. “Got nothing to say for yourself, huh? That's understandable, considering you're looking at the group of people who you tried to kill. Did you really think you could saunter around our town and not be seen one day?”

Noah flinched, turning his eyes away. He hated hearing that tone in any of their voices, especially when it was directed at him. And yet, he stayed silent as the others all tried speaking over each other, to hurl insults of their own at him. But as he looked away, he noticed shadows starting to edge in from the trees, slowly starting to flood into the clearing.

“Guys, please,” He started desperately, looking at them with a slightly worried look in his eyes, “I know you're angry, but we really shouldn't do this here of all places.” He tried to warn them, but their voices drowned him out.

Connor was unable to hold back scoff, and all of the others had similar reactions, “And why the hell not? Might as well do it here. There's nothing stopping us!” The tall blond male said.

“You really shouldn't—” Noah was only cut off as Andy stepped forward again.

“You know what, I'm not holding back.” He growled as he started forward. Somehow, none of the group had noticed the shadows that were creeping forward. But when Andy was nearly within reach of Noah, the shadows all burst forward.

Vines lashed out from the surrounding trees, wrapping around the ankles and wrists of the entire group as the clearing seemed to darken all at once. Andy was held back, pulled against one of the trees as a figure of shadows seemed to appear out of nowhere.

— alexei —

Burning, fiery rage.

That's all that he felt when he saw someone stepping towards the only person who he knew. The only person that seemed to care. Noah. He remembered Noah, even though he barely remembered himself.

And those people. He felt like he should remember them. They seemed familiar to him, in some way. But that recognition was nothing compared to the anger he felt when he saw them going to hurt Noah. He couldn't let that happen. Noah was the only one who cared for him. If he lost Noah, he'd have nothing and no one. No one who remembered him. And no one who would try to help him remember.

He was barely aware of what he was doing because of the blinding rage. He had been cautious at first, approaching slowly, with curiosity. But as the short one of the group started advancing on Noah, a burning feeling spread through him. Red hot, and uncontrollable.

As the vines lashed out from the trees, he watched the people's expressions of horror, confusion, and fear. Appearing in front of Noah, his jaw seemed to stretch open, as strangled-sounding words ripped through him.

“STAY.”

“AWAY.”

Part of him almost hurt when he saw the expressions of fear on the faces of the others, but he couldn't stop the anger he felt. Until he heard a soft, whispered voice.

“Alexei, please… Don't do anything to them. You know them.”

Quizzically, he turned to Noah, shadowy limbs dropping to his side as his head cocked to the side, like a confused puppy. Looking away from the group and looking at Noah, he seemed to calm immediately. The anger melted away into confusion, the red light in his eyes dimming to a soft gray.

“But… hurt you…” He said, voice confused and shaky. He didn't understand. Noah wanted to protect him, but he didn't want protection in return?

Noah shook his head softly, stepping forward as he looked up at the shadow creature who now held the soul of the person he loved most. “Let them ago, Alexei. Don't be mad at them. I deserve whatever they want to do to me.”

His eyes flicked over to the group, cautious of them. Normally he loved to see people, but people who seemed to want to hurt his only friend? Of course he was careful of them. But he couldn't ignore Noah's words. So, he dismissed the vines, watching as they slithered back into the woods.

— the others —

As Noah whispered to the shadow creature in front of them, the vines slowly unwrapped themselves from the wrists and ankles of the group. Andy fell from where he was being held against the tree, and Dan quickly went to his side to make sure he was okay. But all of the others were focused only on the pair in front of them.

“Noah…” Lily started, voice shaking, “Why— Why are you talking to that thing like that?” She asked in a whispered tone. Mostly because she had already figured it out, but didn't want to admit it. All of them had. For a year and a half, they had all thought that Alexei was dead, and the spirit of Redfield was completely gone… But all this time, they were here.

He looked over at the group, meeting their shocked gazes with a frown. He quickly glanced away, as he murmured, “He's… been here all along. He sacrificed himself so that I couldn't. And now… he's in Jane's place.” He explained, looking up at Alexei, who was still focused on the group with a confused expression. After explaining that to them, he spoke to Alexei, looking slightly expectant, “ Do you remember them?”

It took a long moment of silence, as everyone waited to hear the answer, before his eyes slowly turned a smoky blue, with a slight sense of recognition. “Friends?” He asked, slightly cautiously as he looked back at Noah, who nodded softly. Alexei stayed silent for a long moment, before shaking his head in confusion, “Friends… don't hurt friends.”

A small, but clearly forced smile pulled at the corners of Noah's lips as he shook his head, “No, they don't. But I'm not their friend anymore.”

Alexei looked between Noah and the rest of the group, before shaking his head, “Not friends then.” He claimed, as if the rest of the group wasn't standing right there. He didn't understand that maybe words like that could hurt people. Because, then again, he hasn't had much contact with people other than Noah's sarcasm for the past eighteen months.

But the hurt among some of the group was clear on some of their faces upon hearing those words. Stacy frowned, not wanting to think that Alexei would, for some reason, choose to say that Noah was his friend, compared to them. “Noah, did you not tell him everything that happened? Everything that you did?”

Noah frowned, looking at her with slight annoyance in his expression, “Of course I told him. It's one of the first things I did after finding him.” He looked over at Alexei again, a loving smile replacing the frown. The spirit boy looked so confused by this exchange, even though he knew exactly what Noah had done. And yet, he still seemed to love him… Which was more than he deserved, in his own opinion.

“Noah said sorry, so it's all okay!” Alexei quipped, floating up to drift beside the beanie-headed boy. His eyes filled with a blue light, that simply reminded people of happiness. Floating carelessly around Noah, the shadows that made up his body hovering through the air, he rested his hands on Noah's shoulders and rested his chin atop his head, something similar to a happy expression on his face, despite the fact that he did not, technically, have a face.

“It's all okay, just because he said sorry?” Ava started, obviously not happy at that statement. But she took a deep breath and cut herself off, glancing around at the trees carefully. She didn't want to take any chances.

Alexei thought for a moment, before gently shaking his head, “No. Not okay.” He mumbled, but quickly nuzzled into Noah's beanie, as if worried that he'd upset him, “But he's a friend. And friends forgive.”

Lily looked at the outside before her, eyes focused mainly on Noah. For so long, she always felt angry with him, for everything. But in a weird way, she could understand it. “You're right, Alexei. Friends do forgive,” She murmured, with a soft smile.

Immediately brightening upon hearing that, Alexei nodded hurriedly, “Friends!” He exclaimed, in a shrill, sing-song voice.

It was clear that a few of them still had problems with Noah. Of course, that was understandable… But the group stayed there throughout most of the night, listening to his explanation of how he found Alexei. Most of them were upset about the fact that he had kept it hidden for so long, but for the most part, they were just happy to see the friend they thought they lost.

Yes, perhaps he was now a much more childish and slightly immature shadow-version of himself, but, for the most part, he was still the same person.

Or, something similar to a person, at least.

They all stayed there for a few hours, deciding that, now that they knew, Noah wouldn't be the only one visiting anymore. Of course, Alexei was overjoyed at the prospect of getting his friends back, even though he didn't quite remember them.

As they were all gathering up to leave, Noah found himself staying in the clearing. He had nowhere to go anyways, so he could stay for a while longer, he decided. Alexei, however, was loitering at the edge of the woods, trying to look for flowers or something of the sort.

But, when he noticed that Noah was still around, he floated back over, looking cheerful, “Noah's staying?” He chirped, tilting his head.

Noah smiled softly, and nodded, “I'm staying, for a little bit.” He commented, before looking up at him, “How do you feel?” He asked.

There were a few moments of silence as Alexei thought of an answer. But after those few seconds of thought, a voice came through, that sounded the most like the Alexei that he remembered. That voice that he hasn't really heard for a long time. “They're… friends. But they don't understand.”

Confused, Noah tilted his head, “What don't they understand?”

“You had to.” He said softly, nuzzling against Noah's shoulder, “You… don't deserve blame. You had to.”

His breath caught in his throat a little at those words, because he couldn't believe that he had said them. And if there was one thing about Alexei that everyone knew to be true, it was that he only said things that he believed. Gently, he shook his head, but gave a soft smile. Not wanting to truly argue, he simply replied, “If you say so, Alexei.”

For a long time after, they continued to talk. Well, Noah did most of the talking, but Alexei contributed when he wanted to. But finally, late into the night, Noah knew that he had to leave.

The dim gray shade of Alexei's eyes made it clear that he was pouting, but he didn't argue. Even as a shadow monster, he still wanted Noah to take care of himself. As the (human) male started to stand, Alexei quickly drifted up to eye level with him as his voice drifted out, “Promise you'll always come?”

Noah rose an eyebrow slightly, nodding, “Of course, Alexei. Why would I ever stop coming here to see you?”

“Because of the other friends?”

Smiling, Noah shook his head, “Of course not. I obviously don't see eye to eye with them… But I'd never abandon you. You were determined not to abandon me then, and now it's my turn to return the favour.”

Alexei nodded happily, eyes lighting up with glee at the promise. Quickly, he checked against Noah's cheek, the most like a kiss that he could manage, before mostly disappearing into the shadows of the trees. Noah rolled his eyes a little bit as he watched him go, but he couldn't keep the fond and amused smile off of his face. After Alexei had completely disappeared into the shadows, he set off as well, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders after that night.

#very long post #fic #ilitw noah #ilitw mc #choices ilitw #ilitw #ilitw fic #friends #oof this wasn't that great #but i guess i'm posting it anyways #oh welp

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