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cryptiql · 3 years

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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tobi-momo · 3 years

Text

"The Setter's Help" Chapter 7

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Volleyball player!reader

Synopsis: With a big game coming up, the confidence in your setting has gone down significantly. Knowing the setter on the Karasuno boy’s volleyball club is good at what he does, you ask him for help. Will he help you build your confidence and skills or will he just tear it down more?

Genre: Romance, fluff, some crack, angst, hurt/comfort

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, angst, physical violence (?) (not much if any), lmk if more

Word Count: 1.9k

Taglist is Open!!

“Kageyama!” A loud shout could be heard from outside the storage room where Kageyama had been sitting for the past two hours. Suddenly the blank white wall had the memories of his happenings with you covering it. Every time he looked back at himself, the emotion he saw behind his face said everything he wanted to. “You’re really pretty today”, “do you want to hang out?”, “You’re amazing at volleyball”, “I like you”.

“Kageyama!”

The yelling had become clearer, he regarded. His eardrums pick up the sounds of his name, although his eyes still never peeled from the partition. Only when the collar of his shirt was pulled and tugged on and his body being lifted off the chair did he look away, his brain finally responding to its messages.

“You’re such an asshole! Do you know what you did to her? She hasn’t stopped crying! She liked you! And you messed this up! How could you? What did she do to you?!”

It seemed as if Hinata has snapped, Kageyama notes. It’s not that he didn’t care, but the energy that he had in his body to keep fighting and defending himself had almost drained out.

I know, I know, I know.

All he could do was listen, silently scream at how he hurt you, how he damaged your self-esteem, and tore your view of yourself. He knew you looked up to him as both a mentor and a person, and he knew that you wanted to be just like him in terms of volleyball. The event that had occurred just about three hours ago had carved into his brain and embedded itself there, resulting in a headache that he thought he deserved. As his friend throws him around with his fist, his head wobbling and his teeth gritting at the reality of it all, he groans.

“She was good for you!” I know. “She just wanted your help!” I know. “Why did you mess it up?!”

“I don’t know!”

Hinata’s eyes widen dramatically when he heard Kageyama’s voice bleed through the air, his arm loosening a bit and lowering Kageyama’s figure down towards the chair. He looked distressed, Hinata noticed. It was obvious he was arguing with himself, his breath shaking as his chest heaves, his hands balled up into fists yet not having the energy to put them up and use them. His furrowed, frustrated eyebrows that guide his angry eyes when he stares at the floor, too ashamed to look up towards the man counting on him the most. It may have been the humid room, but his eyes felt hot, wet. His head felt sore, tired. But what could he do now, instead of just laying there in guilt and shame, constantly thinking about the way you grew scared of him once he stood up to you, or when you were sobbing and shaking into Kiyoko’s chest as she held you close.

Silence overcame the room; a dark, frozen occurrence in time that was only interrupted by a couple of sniffles as Kageyama tries to pick himself up. He brushed himself off as he stood straight up, a shadow overcasting the top half of his face when his hair sways in front.

“You better fix this,” Hinata mumbles. “Even I can see she’s too good for you.”

“Yeah. I know.”

~.~.~.~

Giving you time was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Watching you walk past him in the hallways and avoid looking at him during class. Every time he tried to stop you in the hallway to talk or say your name to grasp just a sliver of your attention, you do the opposite. You never looked at him once. A concentrated, determined look on your face as you stare at the piece of paper beneath you, your fingers fidgeting with the pen you hold.

The cap resides on your lips while you write down a new formula. His eyes carefully trail the way your mouth wraps around the lid, focused pupils darting to the different details your lips display, them blowing out when you move them, your hand slipping the cap out from your lips. He let his mind get distracted for a little bit while he thinks about how soft your lips would be against his.

“Oi,” Hinata whisper-yells at the man who stares at your mouth. He hesitantly turns around, a blank expression hugging his face while he looks at the ginger. “Stop looking at her like that, you look creepy,” he whispers as he leans upon his desk to give the message properly.

“What? No, I don’t,” Kageyama tries to defend, only his volume a little louder than intended.

“We get it, you like her, but take it slow, remember? No one wants to see you drool over her eating her pencil.”

“She isn’t-” he sighs, turning back around and sitting in his chair properly, “whatever,” he grumbles.

Once the bell rang, he only caught your eye once before you darted out of the class. Dammit, he thought.

“Hey, Y/n,” he called, only to be ignored by your leave as you exit the classroom.

He hated that. He kept seeing your body disappear over and over again and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take watching your back vanish around the corner of the white walls any longer, but his brain ached when it yelled at him to just leave you alone. It was hard, he had to stop himself from taking another step, but his foot halted and he was left alone in the empty hallway while you storm away with no regard.

~.~.~.~

The minute practice rolled around an anxious feeling wrapped around his nerves, suffocating them and telling him to worry and be anxious. It created a pit in his stomach that he wasn’t able to shake, a nervousness that he wasn’t able to identify as he enters the silent gym. Well, silent now that he was present. All murmurs and small-talk came to a stop, all eyes turning to face him while the metal doors clang shut.

Well. This was awkward.

“C’mon! Let’s get to practice, y’all! What’s up with everyone?” Coach Ukai shouts in question with his arms in the air, hoping to clear the dread for a slow second. He chuckles dryly when the humming and mumbling continues, all except two volleyball club members grabbing a ball out of one of the available carts. He gives a double-take to two standing boys by the entrance of the gym, jogging towards them when they don’t move after a moment. “What are you guys doin’? What’s going on with everyone?”

“Well,” Hinata speaks up, a hand scratching his neck as Kageyama takes a step back, scared. “Something happened yesterday and… let’s just say the club isn’t too happy with Kageyama-kun over here.” He tries to laugh it off, but the evidence in Kageyama’s fearful eyes proved that this was, indeed, a serious matter, so Ukai’s face didn’t do anything but display shock and concern.

“Hinata,” he calls, walking off as he uses his pointer finger as a gesture to make the boy come over. He complies, speed walking with his arms sticking out the sides, while Kageyama just stands at the back of the gym, trying his best to ignore the stares of judgment- the ones of Tsukishima and Tanaka, of course. He couldn’t tell if they were glaring at him out of sport or if they were actually mad, but the way his eyes strayed to the polished floors was enough to say they still affected him.

“Yes, Coach?”

The man leans down towards the teenager while looking at the lonely player in the corner, a brow quirked up in question as he asks, “Why is he acting like that?”

Hinata raises his arm to point when he says, “I jus-”

“No, I know what you told me, but what happened. This is not how the team usually is, have you seen the third year’s?” He points out the three men on the court, Hinata taking a quick glance at them grumbling incoherent nonsense to themselves.

“Uh… well,” he tries to explain, putting his pointer fingers together for comfort. “Do you know of Y/n?”

“Mhm, I know of the girl. Girls’ Volleyball Team, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s her. Anyways, Her and Kageyama-”

“Wait, a minute. Are you telling me what I think you’re about to tell me?” He questions with a whisper louder than he intended, although thankfully earning no quizzical looks as he quiets down.

“No, no, no. Well-”

“Are you serious?”

“No! Okay, okay, so basically what happened was he was helping her train for a game she’s excited for,” Hinata continued his explanation, both the ginger’s and Ukai’s head’s turned towards the dark-haired teenager as they talked under their breaths about what had happened. Hinata could see in his peripheral vision the way the blond’s eyes blew open in surprise.

“Kageyama-” he pauses, taking a breath, “Kageyama Tobio,” he clarifies, not believing his ears, “did that to Y/n?”

The ginger only nodded his head, guilty. “Yeah…”

“Oi! Kageyama!” The older man calls the lonely setter his way, the teenager hesitating for a moment before following directions. “Are you dumb or something?”

“What?”

“You heard me!” He keeps his voice at a low whisper, although the striking frustration in his voice does not falter to make Kageyama take a step back in utter shock. “Why the hell would you do that to a nice girl like Y/n? There could be no possible reason other than you being stupid!”

“Coach, I think-”

“Get to practice, both of you! And stop torturing girls like that!” He waves them both off, shoving them away with annoyance. They stumble off, not hearing Ukai mutter, “Dumbasses,” under his breath.

~.~.~.~

You weren’t there. You never showed. The empty gym rang with silence as the dust particles clashed with the windows and the benches, only showing themselves when strings of light bled through the clear panes. He could only sigh, as this was half expected of you, which he had come to the conclusion that that was valid as he closed the gym doors before heading home.

It was like that the next day as well, and the next; Kageyama has no idea why he keeps bothering to show up anymore. Whenever he had texted you politely that he was on the court waiting for you, the message switched from Delivered to Opened in less than two minutes, leaving him to assume that you knew you were doing this to him.

While he picks up his volleyball bag for the last time that night, he walks home with a conflicted expression. Should he keep waiting for you? Or should he stop? You had to come around one of these days, you were crazy about this game, you practically begged him to help you, and even if he wasn’t your mentor anymore, you stay at home doing nothing?

He stopped his thoughts from pursuing- he knew not to call you lazy, because he knew he would be wrong. You were determined, you had a goal. It just irritated him that he was the one to mess it up for you.

That’s it. He won’t do that anymore. He won’t mess it up. He knows you can do amazing on your own anyways, you never really needed him. His time helping you is over.

a/n: hi sorry its been so fucking long ive been having a lot of trouble not only with this chapter but with home things too, so im really sorry aljsdasld buut!! its almost over! one more chapter then an epilogue then The Setter's Help is over! thats so weird honestly but im super happy you guys tagged along! thank you!this is me trying to redeem kageyama, and redemption plots are hard for me so i apologize lasjdkas

taglist in reblog!

send an ask or fill out THIS form to join! (reblogs are VERY appreciated <3)

MASTERLIST

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neutron-stars-collision · 4 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 15 - Make Up Your Mind

Masterlist; Chapter 14

Summary: The mission in Oslo does not go exactly to plan, forcing you to face irritated Neil. What unfolds then surprises you both...

Warnings: A little dose of hurt (nothing graphic however); swearing; some nsfw content (nothing too explicit as well; yet)

Author’s Notes: Okay so here we go, my first attempts at a little more than kissing... It turned out that once I let these two loose, they knew exactly what to do. I’m terrified but also excited to see what you all think! Feedback will be greatly appreciated! Enjoy!!!

The next day went by in a mad blur, filled with perfecting the plans, getting hold of the equipment, and rehearsing the itinerary. The only plus side of your late evening encounter with Neil was the return of texting. It became not only the most fun part of the day but also an opportunity to talk to him freely, without the curious stare of TP, who seemed confused by the dynamic between you. But then you could not blame him when Neil had the nerve to send you rather questionable texts during the hours spent planning…

“I can’t help but wonder whether to treat what you did last night as a promise” as soon as you read the message, you raised your head to look at him across the room.

There he was, nonchalantly sipping the espresso you handed him mere ten minutes prior. When he noticed your look, he smirked. Intentional teasing in public was new. You wondered whether that was a punishment for your own provocations the previous day. And the very self-indulgent kiss. If so, then you probably did deserve it. One thing was certain, it was hard to forget how it felt to touch his skin beneath that shirt. Or the sound he made when it happened. The memories flashed before your eyes, and you blushed. Neil noticed but luckily chose to keep the information to himself. In response, you typed back:

“Maybe, if you behave nicely, you’ll see soon ;)” you hit sent and got up to help Mahir with choosing the right kind of gun for the job.

You certainly did not ignore the way Neil’s eyes lit up when he received the text. Or the way he made sure to brush against you on the way to the bathroom. Hiding a grin in your coffee cup, you had to admit that you liked this evolution of events.

The next day, with the operation set to begin at eight o’clock in the evening, you were forced to spend most of the day in the hotel room. You have all decided that for the sake of safety, it was best that TP and Neil have not been seen meeting anybody before their scheduled visit in the Freeport. And so you have spent hours watching tv, going over the plan and conversing with Mahir, who turned out to be an excellent companion. He entertained you with tales from his previous Tenet missions, usually just as crazy as the Oslo one. You responded by telling him the story of how you ended up in the organization. Before you knew it was time to go. You both got dressed in civilian clothes, based on what research told you about the clothing of the airport crew. The first part of the plan involved entering the perimeter of the Oslo Airport with the rest of the evening shift, blending in with the crowd, using the hi-vis vests and ID cards. When you succeeded, you located the Norskfreight plane. It was exactly where it was supposed to be, with the airport crew busily loading the compartment with the gold bars stacked on crates and secured with straps. So far, so good.

You checked the time. There was still some left till the beginning, so all you had to do was lay low, stay out of the spotlight and make sure you were on that meal cart when it will be loaded onto the Boeing. You hid in the shadows on the hangar, letting Mahir and his associate, Rohan, take up their posts. Using the few minutes of freedom, you glanced at your phone. One new text message.

“Stay out of trouble there, please” he must have sent it before they left the hotel.

Despite the rising anxiety, you smiled.

“Same goes to you. I need my idiot back” you typed, for once giving in to the temptation of honesty.

It felt like things were about to shift at any point now. And it was not as scary as you expected.

Mahir calling out your name brought you back to the present moment. You took a deep breath, checked the gun holstered underneath the vest, and joined your partners on the tarmac. Nodding politely at the guards that were to accompany you onto the plane, you sized them up. Three rather large men with years of experience guarding precious cargo. You should manage. As the lift went up and you stepped aboard the plane, you let the guards escort you to the compartments with the plane meals. The three of you unloaded the cart purposefully slowly. Your eyes met Mahir’s, and you nodded. It was time. Silently you counted the seconds before turning to the guard nearest to you and placing a cotton pad over his nose. When he passed out, you lowered him onto the floor and watched your partners do the same with the rest. You then dumped the sleeping bodies onto the cart and let Rohan send it down, sealing the plane door. You followed Mahir into the front of the plane, opening the cockpit door without knocking. When the two pilots turned to you with a startled look on their faces, you cocked the gun and showed it to them with a small smile. A clear signal.

“Don’t touch the radio,” Mahir warned and sat down on the additional seat in the cockpit.

Taking your position, you aimed the weapon at their heads, alternating between the men every few minutes, suiting your fancy. Sometimes it was terrifying how much you enjoyed having such power.

“Now, let’s begin” your partner motioned for the pilots to start up the towing procedure, pulling out from the hangar and onto the tarmac.

Their nervous gestures were somewhat adorable. You glanced back at Rohan, who was busy with the gold bars, slashing up the straps and preparing the grenade. Feeling the incoming explosion, you braced yourself against the ear-piercing sound. You were rolling down the taxiway now, at a comfortable speed. When the blow came, you flinched instinctively. The distant clamour of gold toppling onto the tarmac made you beam. Mahir got up and tapped you on the shoulder. Now for the fun part…

“Alright, gentlemen,” you grinned at the panicked pilots “Let’s get going” at their hesitation, you smacked your tongue and raised the pistol “You don’t want me to use this. Trust me” you winked.

That was enough. The got up hastily and left the cabin, while you followed behind with the gun ready to be used at any given moment. Rohan opened the front emergency door and unfolded the slide. Nudging their backs with the barrel of your Glock, you urged the crew to roll down the slide and onto the tarmac.

“Ouch,” you flinched when their bodies made contact with the surface.

That was bound to hurt. But then, supposedly, it was better than dying. Once that was done you made sure Mahir was on his task of steering the giant plane off the track and in the direction of the Freeport. Everything seemed perfectly executed. At least so far.

With the back wall approaching fast through the panoramic windows in the cockpit, it was time to work on the exit route. Rohan has opened the flap on the floor and lowered the ladder just as Mahir made sure that the plane was on the right track and stood up from the pilot’s seat.

For the last time, you checked the trajectory, the speed of the machine, and whether there were any signs of trouble around.

“Y/N, it’s time to go!” Mahir called you out from his place by the ladder.

Your ears perked at a strange sound coming from the lavatory on the side. That was worrying… Sensing trouble, your eyes’ met Mahir’s. You urged him to go on, hoping he will take the hint. With a small hesitation, he nodded and left the plane. You looked out of the window. You were approaching the building too fast. But there was no time to waste.

Using the training, you aimed the gun and kicked the toilet door open. You were met with a pair of startled yet determined eyes belonging to a young man. You realised he was probably delivering some papers when you barged in and so hid in the bathroom. Not checking was on you, a definitive fuck up. There would be time to dwell on it later. Now you had to act. One look at the boy was enough to let you know that he was harmless. You yanked him up from the toilet seat and wordlessly pushed him towards the doors open with the slides unrolled.

“What are you doing?” he stammered.

At least he can speak English.

“Saving your ass. Thank me later” you pushed him down the slide.

You could hear the sound of light posts toppled by the plane and the cars crushed by the rolling wheels. It was late. Perhaps too late. You could see the details of the building as you leaped towards the ladder. Fuck it. Landing on the penultimate step, you turned to see people running around, sensing the impending impact. It was definitely too late.

Just as you jumped, Boeing’s nose was two meters away from the wall. With that speed and overwhelming panic, you could not land properly and fell to the ground hard. The impact with the tarmac blew the air out of your lungs, and it took you a long 30 seconds to get up. When you did, the plane crashed into the wall with a bang. The explosion sending you back onto the hard surface of the runway. The instinct kicked in, and you tried to cover your head with your hands, bracing against the potential debris. That was a good decision as soon you felt the sting on different parts of your body left uncovered. You did not want to think about the future bruises and scrapes. Once the initial explosion died down and the biggest pieces of the wreckage fell, you pushed yourself up. Only now, when the adrenaline levels dropped, you realised that the pain was, partially, because a few articles of your clothing were singed. So burns too… brilliant. Your whole body ached, with few areas stinging more ferociously. You glanced at the detritus covering the tarmac all around you. It was a miracle you could do as much as get up and run away from the breach, using the remains of strength. You spotted Mahir and Rohan on the sideline of the crowd that assembled by the plane wreckage. The gold bars were by far the most interesting feature, and so it worked. Nobody stopped you as you joined the team. Worried looks from them both were enough to assure you that they saw what happened. But there was no time to talk.

You waited until the police forces arrived and then used the increasing confusion to slip out unnoticed. Glancing at the Freeport building, you could only hope that Neil and TP had more luck than you. Running away from the chaos, you noticed something strange on the periphery of your vision. You turned sharply and stopped, watching. Two men running with a stretcher. It was most likely nothing but… You would swear there was something familiar in the movements of one of them. It couldn’t be. He turned as though noticing your stare. Just for a quarter of a second, your eyes met. For some reason, you knew then that it was him. And he saw you, acknowledging your existence with widened eyes. The moment ended with Mahir tugging on your arm, urging you to follow him. When you turned again, there was no sight of the two men. Briefly, you wondered whether you should tell Neil, but you knew the answer. What’s happened, happened.

*** Escaping the Oslo Airport turned out to be rather easy. Despite the aching body and tiredness that was slowly catching up, you followed the plan. After splitting up with your partners, you hopped on the public transport that took you back to the city centre within a half-hour. The early reports were calling the incident a terrorist attack, and because of that, there were many people aboard the train that wanted to get away from the epicentre. You blended in well, choosing to sit by the window at the back. No one asked questions.

Once you made it back to the city, you went back to your hotel and changed into something more comfortable. Taking off the shirt, you frowned at the forming bruises, burns, and scratches littering the whole of your torso and back. Somehow, you knew that you will not be able to hide it from them. Especially not from Neil.

You glanced at your watch. You were late. Cursing, you sped up the movements, left the hotel, and hurried down the empty streets. Adjusting your hood now and then, you kept glancing at your phone. Just as expected, your lateness did not go unnoticed.

“Where are you?”

And then:

“Is everything alright?”

Normally, that would make you think, but with everything that happened tonight, you just replied.

“Yes, I’ll be there in 2mins” pocketing the phone, you practically jogged the rest of the way.

Using the skills in sneaking, you managed to pass the reception desk unnoticed. Upstairs, you knocked on TPs door and awaited a response. It did not take long.

Five seconds later, the door opened, revealing Neil. You offered him a weak smile, suddenly relieved you made it back in one piece. Without a word, he took your hand in his and dragged you inside, closing the door and turning the lock. TP was waiting in the corridor, evidently troubled.

“Sorry, I…” you were acutely aware of the fact that the questions are about to be asked.

“We’re glad you made it” TP smiled at you and wandered over to the adjacent room, giving you privacy.

Now that was even more concerning. You watched wide-eyed as Neil approached you with a rather nervous smile on his face. He was worried. Before you could react, he closed the gap and embraced you. You did not have time to relax into his touch. When his hand brushed one of the sore spots on your side, you flinched. Of course, Neil would notice. He let go of you in a flash:

“What’s wrong?” his blue eyes studied you worriedly “Are you hurt?” he skimmed over your body as though trying to see anything obvious there.

You frowned. It was hard to resist that sudden urge to run out of the hotel room and onto the street, avoiding the conversation. Avoiding those eyes that could always see right through you.

“It’s nothing” you faked a smile and tried to turn away from him.

But he reached out and grabbed your arm, holding on strong. There was no escape.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me” his brow only furrowed more.

You could tell that although their mission was successful, he was weary. And all because of you. That realisation was a hard one to swallow.

“Just a few scratches,” you shrugged, aiming for nonchalance “It’s okay, seriously”.

You could tell that he was trying to keep his emotions in check. He breathed out, as though composing himself, and asked:

“What happened?”

God no… Briefly, you were grateful for the fact that Mahir was still MIA. At least only you knew the truth, and that allowed some room for… lies.

“Got held up before I could escape the plane and... I jumped too late onto the tarmac” you blurted out, staring at the carpet purposefully.

Everything was better than meeting his eyes again. You heard movement across the room. TP was most likely hearing this too. Bloody brilliant.

“Jesus, you could’ve...” Neil let out a long exhale, unable to finish the thought.

Despite knowing better, you raised your head to look at him. The concern and anguish you saw in his expression were enough to make your heart stumble. Maybe it was not all want and his needs?

“But I didn’t, so please stop” you tried to regain composure, wrestling out of his hold and stepping out of his reach.

He clenched his jaw, clearly battling the emotions. You could hear the blood pounding in your ears.

“I need to check if you’re okay,” his voice broke at the end of the sentence.

Fuck.

“I am” attempting defiance, you straightened your back and wandered into the room.

“I don’t believe you,” he followed and blocked your path in no time.

You stared, trying to stifle all that his worried eyes were making you feel. Why does he have to be so goddamn difficult?

“And who’s problem is that?” you shrugged out of the jacket, careful not to show the pain you felt “Neil, just let it go” you pleaded.

“I can’t” he stepped in closer, trying to get to you the only way he knew was successful.

But this time, you were determined not to give in. Maybe it was ridiculous, but his concern set off the stubbornness you were full of. You could not let him see how badly you have fucked up during that mission. Because then he could look at you differently. And that was terrifying. Especially when combined with feelings that you have tried to repress for the past few days.

“Brilliant” you sighed and collapsed onto the nearby armchair.

That was a mistake, as the wounds on your back stung the moment you sat down. You were unable to stop the grimace of pain. Neil, naturally, did notice. The concern on his face quickly shifted into annoyance. Before you could continue the strange quarrel, TP walked back into the room. The way his eyes shifted between the two of you, you knew he heard most of it.

“Is everything alright there?” he asked, seemingly casual.

“Not quite. We’ve reached an impasse it seems” you shrugged, rolling your eyes and ignoring Neil, who was very much in the centre of your vision.

“You’re being childish, so there’s that” the dark edge to his voice was surprising.

But that relentless voice in your head found satisfaction in it. And decided to press forward.

“If I’m childish, then what does it say about you?” you met his gaze with one eyebrow arched “Why do you even care so much? Didn’t take you for a neurotic” once you spit those words out, his eyes darkened.

That might have been a step too far.

“Fucking hell...” he took a deep breath “Okay, I’ve had enough” he grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the chair “You in the bathroom now. I’ll look at those wounds” he practically pushed you in the direction of the corridor.

You stared, shocked. For a split second, you looked at TP and noticed his perplexed expression. This was definitely not how casual co-workers behaved.

“Is that absolutely necessary?” you risked another question.

“Yes,” Neil was not even looking at you, searching for something on the desk.

You sighed defeatedly. Seeing him that angry was startling. And you were not sure you wanted to know why he was behaving like that. Because, surely, it could not have been all caused by your disobedience…?

“Do you want tea for later?” TP’s question broke through your messy thoughts.

One look at Neil’s tense figure was enough to give you an answer.

“Whiskey would be better, thanks” you smiled at the boss and went into the dreaded bathroom.

You did not have to wait long for Neil to follow you and lock the door behind you. At the sound, you turned to face him. Taking in the irritation in his eyes, clenched jaw, and furrowed brow, you quipped:

“I see you finally got what you wanted. Me and you, locked in the bathroom. What’s it gonna be?” you drawled out the question and wiggled your eyebrow, giving in to the weird mood that suddenly overcame you.

That took him by surprise. You watched as his eyes widened and mouth opened a little. For a second, you wanted nothing but to close it with a kiss. No, stop.

“Think I’m starting to rub off on you” Neil gave you a half-smile that did not reach his eyes.

“Is that bad?”

“Potentially,” he grimaced and dragged a hand through his hair “Now, sit” obediently, you perched on the edge of the bathtub “Where is it?” his eyes roamed over your body again.

There we go, you ignored the blush creeping over your cheeks as you sheepishly glanced down at your chest and stomach.

“Okay. Off” if he was bothered by the information, he did not show it.

You could not tell if that was good or bad.

“Really?” you glanced up, hoping that maybe he will change his mind.

“Yes. And I’m not going to say that I won’t look because that’s kind of beyond the point” there was nothing playful in those eyes.

“Well then…” awkwardly, you took off the loose shirt you found at the bottom of the suitcase.

As it came over your head, you dropped the material onto the floor. The moment cold bathroom air hit your bare skin, you felt exposed. Swallowing down the nerves, you met Neil’s eyes. He did stare, there was no denying that. You felt him skim over your chest and stomach, drinking in everything that was suddenly revealed. You knew that he saw all the bruises, scratches, and burns that you have acquired tonight. The expression in his eyes was as close to cold scrutiny as you have ever seen. You felt judged, and it was a rather uncomfortable position to be in, considering everything. But before you could let that feeling consume you, he ended his examination and kneeled on the tiled floor, right in front of you. He met your gaze, asking for permission to touch you. You just nodded and turned away, focusing on counting the little white squares in the shower floor mosaic. A moment later, you felt Neil’s fingers ghost over one particular scrape on your rib, just below the band of the sport’s bra you kept on. At least that one bit of dignity was allowed.

He was gentle you had to admit. First, he identified all the spots that needed attention and then went on to clean them with a wet cloth. With his face this close, looking over the parts of your body that you were self-conscious about, it did not take long for anxiety to kick in. The fact that it was Neil, the man who you had tried desperately not to fall for, only made it worse. The faster breaths and shaking hands did not go past his attention. He leaned back, searching your face for any clues about what was going on. He must have found the answers quickly.

“Hey, it’s okay” tipping your chin, he turned your face, forcing you to meet his soft gaze “I didn’t mean that I don’t care… about how you look, because I really do” you were surprised to see him nervous “I know that this isn’t the most comfortable situation for either of us but…” he trailed off, looking for words.

It looked like the anger from earlier was gone, and now he was just as tense as you were. It was increasingly hard not to think about all those times you got a little too close. You had a sudden feeling this might be the moment that the dreaded ‘elephant’ will make its appearance after four days of silence. And you were not wrong.

“You know… What I said the other day?” he asked, and even though you knew what was coming, you felt your heart speed up.

You did not respond, instead choosing to stare at him curiously with a dose of apprehension.

“It wasn’t just alcohol talking” the earnest look in his eyes was not helping “I have realized that recently but I do l-“

Okay, that was enough.

“You’re making it worse” you interrupted him, refusing to maintain the eye contact any longer.

You were scared of what you both could potentially see. The whole situation was somehow getting more and more overwhelming.

“I want you to know that it doesn’t matter that this is how I first saw you... I...”

You used the break in his rambling to bring an end to the suffering. You reached out and placed your hand over his mouth. The blue eyes glanced at you, perplexed and lost. It seemed like neither of you knew how to deal with this situation.

“Neil, please stop” you muttered, hoping that maybe if you showed him the extent of your discomfort, he would understand “I know what you’re doing but please… I’d rather we didn’t talk about it right now”

Before you could retract your palm, he grabbed it and kissed your knuckles lightly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… everything that happened today has been rather draining and now…” he sighed and squeezed your hand before letting go “Should I…?” he motioned at the first aid materials on the side.

“Yeah, let’s get this over and done with” you attempted a small smile, which he mirrored.

You let him continue the work, cleaning the cuts and scratches, applying ointment to the burns. He frowned when he noticed the wound that began the whole affair – a rather large cut on your side, a result of colliding with a piece of debris from the plane. The silence made you think. Probably a little too much. Finally, after battling with yourself, you decided to ask:

“Why did you get so angry? If it were you, you wouldn’t even care”

Neil glanced at you, seemingly unbothered. His long fingers brushed over your rib cage thoughtlessly. So far, you were succeeding at ignoring the very way his touch made you feel.

“That’s the difference, it’s you, not me,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world and went back to his task.

“Does that really matter?” you hissed when he applied some hydrogen peroxide to the cut.

“It does to me” the blue eyes met yours with defiance you did not expect.

Oh. You inhaled, realising the implications behind his statement. Suddenly, his proximity, the gentle touch, and the things he said meant much more. Because if he cared so extremely, then maybe… maybe he did actually mean it. Surprisingly, the doubtful voice was not present to give any counterarguments. You took that as a sign to let yourself do what you wanted.

You reached out and dragged your hand through Neil’s hair, making him look up with a surprise. As your eyes met, just for once, you decided to look at him without holding anything back. You poured all the fondness, attraction, affection, and desire into that look. It was enough. Neil exhaled as he took in the sight. For a second, he rested his chin on your lap, staring up at you.

“If you keep on looking at me like that, I’ll do something stupid” it was a warning, and yet you found that you were not scared.

“Like what?” the confidence was new but not unwelcomed.

“Do you really want to know?” that was a challenge.

Something changed in the way he was looking at you. The softness got replaced with darkness you got to know well. Only this time, seeing him like this made you want to experiment. Using the hand that you ruffled his hair with, you traced the outline of his sharp jaw. That simple gesture had much effect on Neil. He dropped the cloth onto the floor and stood up abruptly. Before you could determine what to expect in response, he motioned for you to get up as well. One look at his tense posture was enough to make you decide and obey. Once you were levelled, he made you turn around to look at the bruise below your right shoulder blade. With your back turned and inability to see what his eyes held, you had to depend on the way he touched you. Something felt different. Especially in how close he stepped and how his fingers trailed over the skin surrounding the purple bruise. Then, before you could prepare, you felt his breath on the back of your neck. You shivered as he kissed your shoulder and pulled you flush against his chest. Arms encircled your waist, taking time to explore every curve. Fuck.

“Neil… what…” the coherence was gone.

All you could do was gasp when he lightly scratched the skin on your stomach.

“Let me show you what’s going on” his voice was huskier than you have ever heard it.

He started kissing the back of your neck with urgency. Looking for support, you grabbed the hands that were wrapped around your stomach and held on tight, only gripping stronger when he started biting the skin on your shoulder. You knew that was bound to leave marks. With every new kiss and bite, Neil was getting more confident, using the lack of your protests as a sign to continue. In response, you could only give him access to new spots on your neck.

Using a break in his exploration, you turned in the embrace to face him. The darkness of his irises and blown pupils were enough to make you feel faint. His parted lips were the only thing you could focus on, desperate to kiss him again. Before you could lean in, he whispered:

“If you want to stop, this is the right moment” with how close you were you could see his long eyelashes and slightly crooked nose.

He was beautiful. Feeling the steady grip of his hands on your waist and seeing the longing in his eyes, you realized that, in fact, you did not want to stop. Not when his every touch and kiss made you feel wanted like never before. Neil was still waiting for consent, looking at you with adoration. That was all you needed to tip the scales. You nodded and pulled him closer by entangling your hand in his hair. As your lips crashed, he let out a groan. A giggle rose in your throat and tinted your next kiss with sighs. The heated kisses were everything you needed. He was never close enough. Desperately, your hands tugged at his shirt but to no avail. You let out a frustrated whine when he broke the kiss and took half a step back. The playful sparks in his eyes were enough to assure you that he knew exactly what to do. With wide eyes and shallow breath, you let him part your knees with his long leg, providing support as his hands continued the reverent exploration of your upper body. Hands palming your breasts through the thin fabric of the sports bra were enough to make you curse. The heat flowing through your veins was pooling in your lower stomach, making everything hazy.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

The intoxicating smell of his cologne was slowly overwhelming the last bits of sanity.

“That bad?” Neil sounded smug.

His hands travelled south now, brushing over your sides and settling on the skin just above the trousers hemline. All it took was for him to scratch that spot under the belly button, and you shuddered. The only response from him was a short laugh that revibrated through your embraced bodies. That raspy sound was more than revelatory. Suddenly the leg that was so conveniently placed between your knees became the only thing you could focus on. Hooking one of your legs around his hip, you ground down on his thigh, beginning a little movement to ease the ache. That kind of friction had to do.

If he was surprised by your actions, he did not show it, instead working on unbuckling your belt. His hand slipped just as far as the band of your trousers allowed, testing the waters. The gasp and the way your fingers dug into his biceps were all he needed to continue. You sucked on the skin of his neck, wanting nothing but to mark him in any way. At that moment, you realized one thing – you wanted him to be yours. The quiet moan he let out upon your action made you believe that maybe he wanted that too.

The moment he succeeded at undoing the belt on your jeans, you could not hold back the only plea that came to mind.

“Neil, I…” you breathed in his scent, hoping to find salvation in any way possible.

You what? Need you? Want you?... Love you? Perhaps you did.

He responded by unbuttoning your jeans and meeting your eyes for the first time in a while. You knew that was the final opportunity to back out. His eyes were almost black, clouded with the need that made your breath hitch. You did not want to imagine what sight he saw in your flushed face and unfocused eyes. All you could think, and feel was him; his hands knowing exactly where you needed his touch; his eyes making you feel wanted and important. It suddenly made sense, every shared look and close encounter building up to this exact moment. You leaned in, determined to kiss him again when a knock resounded in the bathroom.

“Mahir is here” TP’s voice breaking through the silence was like a sharp wake up call.

You stopped with your lips brushing against Neil’s, sharing a breath. Your eyes met, and you could see that he was just as shocked as you were. There was no going back from this. He closed the distance and gave you a chaste kiss on the lips before taking a definitive step back. You disentangled from him, feeling embarrassment take over any other emotion. Once you were stood on your own again, you swayed a little, overwhelmed by the situation. Even now, Neil noticed and reached out to steady you, carefully touching your arm. Without a word, he picked up your shirt from the floor and passed it to you with a rather contrite expression in his eyes. That was worrying. You swallowed the increasing panic and quickly got dressed, using the fact that he turned away, giving you privacy. While the gesture was thoughtful, you could not help but worry that it meant he was having regrets. Or worse, that he realized that this was not something he actually wanted. Battling those thoughts, you splashed cold water onto your face, hoping to cool off the flushed skin. Looking up at the mirror over the sink, you noticed those blue eyes watching you closely.

“Go, have that whiskey. I’ll join you in a minute” he spoke when you turned to face him.

The space between you felt like an ocean that neither of you could breach. You noticed the furrowed brow and conflicted eyes.

“Neil...” your voice sounded strange without that passionate tone “Are you alright?” you watched him with concern.

What if that’s how you fucked it all up? You could feel the incoming panic attack at the thought. That probably cleared up the question of your own feelings on the matter.

“I just need a moment” upon seeing your worried eyes, he stepped in closer again “Don’t worry, it’s not about this”

But what if…? You desperately wanted to get rid of the sabotaging brain. As though Neil was reading your mind, he leaned in and kissed you on the forehead. The softness took your breath away. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly until you could think straight again.

“Think we should join before they…” he trailed off, and you were hit with the realization of how suspicious the whole situation was.

Bloody hell.

“Yeah, sure,” you hesitated before asking the seemingly most crucial question, “Are we… are we okay?” once you stumbled over it, you met his eyes timidly.

None of that previous bravado could be found right now. You wondered how it changed within mere minutes.

“Yes, of course. Never been better” he picked up a stray long hair from his shirt.

A tell-tale sign of what happened. Or nearly happened. You eyed him curiously once more, to assure yourself that he was real and fine. Your eyes froze on the reddish mark on his neck, visible through the unbuttoned collar. Your work. Feeling shame burn on your cheeks, you decided to let him know.

“Neil… there’s… you’ve got…” you huffed, unable to formulate the sentence.

He was watching you with a charming expression in his eyes, making the matters worse.

“You might want to look in the mirror before you go outside” you blurted out the sentence and added, “I’m sorry”.

You could not miss the way his eyes lit up as he glanced at the mirror then.

“Nothing to be sorry about” he sent you a smirk.

*** When you finally joined TP and Mahir, you realized how badly that whiskey was needed. You took a long sip even before acknowledging them both. If that was in any way surprising, they did not show. And neither did they comment on how long you and Neil stayed in that bathroom. Luckily. You hugged Mahir and settled down on the sofa.

“Are you alright?” TP eyed you quickly.

“Yeah, I’ll live” you smiled lightly, enjoying the way alcohol hit, taking the edge off.

“Neil made himself useful, I hope”

Oh no. You tried to mask the horrified expression on your face by taking another large gulp. Fucking hell. It was meant to be a joke, but you had a hard time finding words again. This was looking to be a long evening…

“Yeah, he did” you looked up for a split second and gave your brightest grin.

That had to do. You had no way of knowing whether TP bought that because, at that moment, Neil chose to make an appearance.

“Good to see you back Mahir” he wandered over to the man in question and slapped his shoulder gently.

You took the notice of his shirt collar, buttoned up all the way. Without the tie, that looked suspicious. At that moment, you vowed to never again let yourself get that lost in such circumstances. Even for Neil, the embarrassment was not worth it. You kept on staring as he poured himself a shot of whiskey. Huh. Apart from that, he looked perfectly composed.

“So… how did it go on your end?” Neil joined you on the sofa, keeping a respectable distance.

His eyes flicked between you and Mahir.

“Everything perfect up until the last moment” your partner looked at you with interest “But maybe that’s best explained by Y/N”

“There isn’t much to explain… I… uh, got caught up by unexpected obstruction and had to make late-exit onto the tarmac just before the explosion” you shrugged halfheartedly.

The three pairs of eyes were staring at you with a wide range of emotions. TP was shocked, perhaps a little worried and suspicious. Mahir was perplexed, undoubtedly wondering why your story felt so disjointed. And Neil was looking at you with that same concerned and infatuated expression you knew well. Sighing, you tried to steer the attention away.

“What matters is that it went well, and we’re most likely getting away” you plastered a weak smile onto your face.

“Fair point” Mahir came to your rescue “How about you lads? Everything good?”

TP tensed at the question. You knew that he would rather keep you all out of the circle of those initiated. To him, all three of you were only helping, necessary but costly additions to making his mission succeed. You were not supposed to know the truth.

“The distraction worked” he answered, finally, smiling at Neil lightly “No one suspected anything, and we had time to explore the pentagon” he hesitated.

Your eyes flicked to Neil, but his troubled expression gave nothing away.

“I got my answers and even more questions” that was a definite answer, as TP picked up his drink from the table.

“And the rest is silence, huh?” Neil smirked, and you glared at him.

You ignored the warmth that spread in your chest upon seeing his cheeky smile and sparkling eyes. Shit. He mirrored your look with a little head tilt, still smiling. The look in his eyes was something you could not describe. But it felt important. Before you could contemplate it further, TP replied.

“Well… yes. The job is done for you, and unfortunately, I can’t give you any explanation” he shrugged apologetically.

Not everything is so different.

“Understood” you nodded curtly and focused your gaze on the carpet.

“Well, if this is our last night together… we might as well have fun” Neil got up, on the way brushing his hand over your knee.

You clenched your jaw. His nerve never failing to surprise you.

“Anyone wants more whiskey?” he raised the bottle, undoubtedly glancing at you.

“Yes, please,” you deadpanned.

When he came over to give you a refill, you stared at the ruffled blonde hair and inhaled the whiff of his cologne that accompanied him. Creepy or not, it was needed.

Once everyone had the needed amount of alcohol, you drifted into a rather confusing terrain of trying to talk to TP without disclosing anything significant about yourselves. Mahir went first, and you were surprised by how good he was at spinning his life story in a way that made him seem like a freelancer. He mentioned working with Neil, another fellow free spirit. That seemed strangely fitting, and the boss bought it in no time. And then he asked about you. Or more precisely, how come you had all that experience and where Neil knew you from.

“I’ve started the freelancing gig a few years back after gaining experience in the gov” the lie rolled off your tongue easily.

All that thanks to alcohol.

“You’ve worked with British Intelligence?” TP arched his eyebrow skeptically.

You knew what he meant; you were quite young for that kind of experience.

“Yeah, I was a young prodigy,” you shrugged, attempting smugness “And then Neil and I met on a little job recently” you glanced at the man in question and found him staring at you “He must’ve taken his liking to me since he went straight to me for this one” you smirked upon seeing Neil’s eyes widen.

How about that? It did not take him long to recover.

“Who can blame me if I did” he grinned “You’re good at what you do. And at everything really” he batted his eyelashes at you.

Stifling the urge to groan, you replied:

“Thank you, I’ll take that,” downing the rest of the drink, you got up “I’m pretty tired, so I’ll head off now. It was a pleasure to work with all of you” you shook TP’s hand and nodded at Mahir.

Neil was to be ignored. Which was inconvenient given the fact that he was the one to let you of the apartment. Once you were out of sight in the narrow corridor, he placed his hand on your waist, effectively pinning you to the wall. You gaped at him, surprised and intrigued. He leaned in close and whispered:

“Thought you’d know better than to slip out without saying goodbye,” he nuzzled your neck, just below the ear.

You shivered, unable to pretend that it was not working. You realized that act might need to be given up now.

“I was hoping you’ve had enough of me tonight” biting hard onto your lower lip you tried to level your breathing.

Neil kissed your neck before responding.

“I wouldn’t count on that” he took his time, breathing you in and making sure you understood his intentions.

“Ever?” you cringed at how breathless you sounded already.

“Mhmm” he left one more reverent kiss in the crook of your neck before raising his head “For me, this was only a little prelude” his eyes sparkled playfully.

He grinned when you rolled your eyes.

“Fantastic. Now let me go, please?” you ignored the voice that suggested letting him do whatever the hell he wanted to you.

But it was easier said than done. Your breath hitched when he lightly nibbled on your earlobe, letting his hand travel down your hip and then between your thighs in a smooth movement. Relentless bastard. The previous ache was threatening to come back at any moment. And now was definitely not the time. You leaned back as far as the wall allowed you and glared at him. With a cheeky smile, he retracted his hand and beamed at you, ever so innocently.

“Of course,” he kissed you on the lips chastely, for the second time tonight, “I’m nothing but a gentleman”

“That’s debatable” up this close his eyes seemed too blue to be real “Goodnight, Neil”

“Night night, darling” letting go of you, he opened the door with a flourish “Sleep well and dream of me” he winked when you were out in the corridor.

“Kindly, fuck off darling” you stormed down the corridor.

It did not take him long to keep on bothering you. Entering your own hotel room fifteen minutes later, you heard the text chime:

“Good thing I’ve got that scarf with me” Idiot. You grinned fondly despite yourself.

“You have a slap incoming, I think” you typed back and lied down on the bed.

“You can start tomorrow night with that then” that did not take him long.

Ah yes, your night out… absolutely terrifying.

“Is it still on?” you nibbled on your lip, not sure what sort of answer you wanted.

“Of course. If anything, tonight gave more reasons to take you out”

Okay… You rolled onto your stomach and hid your face in the pillow. Now that is going to be a nerve-wracking day… and night. You had a feeling those butterflies in your stomach were not going to stop.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion #image not mine

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markleesthighs · 4 years

Note

127 reaction to arguing with their s/o but they make up at the end?

-sorry this took so long I’m so busy T-T

Taeil

It would be very rare you and Taeil got into arguments. The last time you two argued was about dessert, Taeil wanted to share a cake but you wanted ice cream. But not all couples live an argument-free relationship. Taeil and you were arguing about the dishes because most of the time he was the one cleaning up after you. But you did all the laundry, cleaned the house, and organized everything else in the apartment.

“Why can’t YOU clean the dishes Taeil, I’m not asking much of you.”

“I don’t want to come home to the apartment knowing I have dishes to clean after I’ve had promotions, recordings, and dance practices beforehand!”

“YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE THAT DOES WORK AROUND HERE?? I CLEAN, COOK, AND ORGANIZE EVERYTHING IN THIS DAMN APARTMENT.”

“y/n, it’s different, you’ve never been an idol, you don’t know how much work it is, it’s tiring. You have more time on your hands than I do, so I think it’s best if you do the dishes!”

“Keeping this apartment the way it is, IS TIRING, do you think I’m just some housekeeping slave for you? When was the last time YOU did something for ME?”

Taeil became silent after that not knowing how to respond. You bother were crying and you stormed out of the apartment slamming the door. You took the elevator down to the ground floor of the community park and sat on a bench, wanting fresh air and to be alone. Taeil shortly came after, wanting to reconcile with you. He found you sniffling alone on a bench with a slight breeze blowing in your hair. He came down and sat next to you.

“Hey.”

“…” You turned away from his face.

“I’m sorry y/n. I’m sorry for thinking I’m the only one who’s tired all the time. I was being selfish and stressed, saying things I didn’t even mean. You are one of the best things in my life and I’m thankful for all the hard work you do, just for me. I love you, so much, I will never take advantage of you ever again.” “Tae…I love you too, I know how much work you put into being an idol, and how stressful it is, it’s just hard when you are away for so long, so, the dishes were an excuse for me to see you more often…”

Taeil looked at you in awe feeling bad about the entire situation. You both hugged and Taeil kissed you on the cheek.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. I’ll talk tp my manager and see what I can do.”

“It’s ok it’s not like you can drop everything just to see me.”

“I could if I could my love”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah”

“I will never let you do the dishes ever again.”

“Agreed.”

Johnny

You and Johnny had gone to the coffee shop for a date and as you were deciding what do drink Johnny ordered his iced americano. Before you could say you wanted a vanilla latte you noticed the cashier trying to flirt with Johnny. She complimented his outfit and hair and was leaning slightly over the counter then you liked. You coughed and she glared at you sarcastically asking what you wanted and you replied with your order.

You both walked over to sit down at a table for two by the window. It was raining, but thats what you enjoyed about getting coffee with Johnny. It gave you warm and fuzzy feelings, enjoying time with Johnny in a nice coffee shop. You noticed the cashier bring your drinks over to your table as she purposely turned her back to you to talk to johnny. johnny, being johnny, was innocently talking to her smiling and hoping she would go away. But she didn’t. You quietly sat there sipping your latte, not wanting to cause a scene in the coffee shop. Johnny kept talking to her not knowing how much it hurt you and make you jealous.

By the time you finished your latte, you’ve had enough. Either johnny was enjoying their conversation so much that he forgot about you or he couldn’t find a way to make her leave. You decided that this date was ruined and you wanted to leave, you had no purpose in being in the coffee shop, so you go up and started to walk out. Johnny noticed and asked where you were going.

“I’m going home, come back when you have her number and panties”

Johnny was about to say something but you walked out the door into the rain, forgetting Johnny had the umbrella. You wished this was the first time it had happened but it wasn’t. Several girls in public tried to flirt with Johnny in public in front of you and it only reminded you that maybe you weren’t enough for johnny. It made you think he deserved better sometimes. You sulked in the rain walking back to your shared apartment when you noticed the rain had stopped. Turning, you look up to see Johnny, holding an umbrella above you.

“Baby, I don’t want you to catch a cold”

“…”

“I’m sorry I got caught up in a conversation with the cashier, she just wouldn’t stop talking.”

“Do you like her?”

“What? No! Why would you think that?”

“Well, you’ve been hit on by other women before, and, I don’t know it makes me jealous and insecure sometimes.”

“Wait..she was trying to flirt with me?

“ARE YOU-“

“I’m joking, I’m joking, you’re so adorable when you’re a tiny ball of anger”

You pouted and he kissed your pout and reassured you of your feelings.

“I don’t care about these other girls, don’t worry I only have eyes for you.”

You smiled and kissed him as you both walked together in the rain holding each other closer than ever.

Taeyong

At the start of your relationship, Taeyong didn’t mind cooking for you, since you had little to no cooking ability. But it wasn’t until recently that it started to tick Taeyong off. You both were busy bees at work, but neither of you cleaned the house or did laundry ever since you got a promotion, and Taeyong started to train for SuperM. You generally came home from your nine to five job to come home and feel like collapsing on the couch. It’s not that both of you are lazy, you both had painstaking jobs that made you both burn out by the end of the day. But Taeyong, being nice saw how much stress you had, wanting to get that promotion, took on more chores for your home. He cooked, cleaned, and watered the plants in the house. But once you got your promotion, he noticed how used you were to Taeyong doing the chores.

One time the trash was filled up and Taeyong asked if you could take it out to the trash can outside but you simply said you didn’t know how and asked Taeyong to do it. Taeyong swallowed his anger and angrily took a stroll to the garbage can. It would only be time until he had enough of your laziness.

It was one night where Taeyong noticed your shared hamper was full, again. He had a long day of promotions, cleaned the house, and cooked for you all in one day. He had no more energy to do any laundry. You, on the other hand were sitting in bed on your phone waiting for him to join you. He sat on the bed and laid down on your lap exhausted.

“What's wrong yongie?”

“I’m so tired…I can’t even move”

“Why are you so tired? Is it the promotions?”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m tired of doing all the housework”

“Housework? What housework?”

“Are you serious right now?!”

Taeyong got up from your lap to pace around in your bedroom, clearly looking stressed out.

“Haven’t you noticed you do NOTHING for this house?!”

“What do you mean?! I work at my office from nine to five bringing in more money for US?! Do you not appreciate my efforts to earn my money independently?!”

“I meant, cooking, cleaning, laundry, throwing out the trash!”

“Oh c’mon! You know I don’t have time for those things!”

“WELL NEITHER DO I! IVE BEEN LOSING MY HEAD FEELING THAT I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE MYSELF!”

“Yong-“

“NO! IT’S NOT LIKE I SIT AROUND AT HOME ON MY ASS AT FIVE WHEN I KNOW DAMN WELL MY BOYFRIEND COMES HOME AT MIDNIGHT!!”

“…”

“Bab-“

You left the room scared that Taeyong yelled at you, worried he was losing his temper. You walked to the living room to sit on the couch waiting for him to compose himself. After a few minutes, Taeyong walked out.

“….hey”

“hey…are you ready to talk”

“y-yeah…”

“I’m sorry I lost it, I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately. I’m expected to be in a new global supergroup, and I would appreciate it if you would help out with some daily chores once in a while. I’m sorry.”

“Its okay, yongie, to be fair, I don’t know how to do most chores, I grew up with a nanny who did all of it for me. So, I would really appreciate it if you taught me and I would be able to help out.”

“Yeah! I could teach you! I’m so sorry, I should have just asked for your help.”

“Stop apologizing! I still love you!”

“I love you too.”

Yuta

It would be rare when Yuta had a break from his career but when he did he would make sure you guys would make most of your time together. This time, Yuta decided to take you to an amusement park for fun date night. The date was going great, you both went on a few rides and played some games. But your heart stopped when you saw a scary ride that you did NOT want to go on. You were never the best when it came to horror anything, which is why Yuta liked watching horror movies with you. He loved holding your trembling body as you snuggled up closer to him while you watched them. But what you hated the most was zombies, the fear that the undead could walk made your skin crawl. Yuta saw the scary ride and begged you to get on it with him. Eventually, he dragged you over to the ride while you kept blabbering and complaining why you didn’t want to get on it.

Once you were on it you kept screaming that you wanted to get off but he kept reassuring you everything was going to be ok. Everything on the ride in the was pretty tame but you did not expect there to be one last jump scare that scared you to death. A zombie jumped out on your side of the cart and sprayed water in your face and you lost it. You started to cry and when Yuta tried to hold you you pushed him away screaming that you hated him for having you go on the ride. Once you reached the exit for the ride you pushed him out of the way running away from him. Yuta chased after you calling your name.

Yuta tried talking to you but you wouldn’t listen you would turn your head or try to shove him away. You sat on a bench pouting and giving him the silent treatment. Yuta sighed and looked around, noticing a cotton candy stall. He got up and went to the stall, he walked back with bright pink fluffy cotton candy. You looked noticing Yuta has your favorite treat in hand, slowly eating as if he was tempting you.

“C’mon baby…I know you want some”

“..hmf.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll eat it all by myself”

You looked at him offended as you turned away again still mad at him. You noticed he looked away for a second before you attempted to snatch it from his hand.

“oh oh oh, nope, you don’t get any…unless”

“…”

“you forgive me and start talking to me.”

“ugh, fine”

He smiled as he handed you your cotton candy. You pulled off a piece at ate it angrily. Yuta pats your head and kissed your cheek looking at you fondly.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Doyoung

One of your favorite things to do with Doyoung is to go shopping with him. You both have a strong passion for fashion and shopping. It was a rare day where Doyoung had the whole day to spend it with you. As the fall season was coming up, you both decided you needed some new fall clothes. Doyoung picked you up and drove you to a popular shopping district in Seoul. Doyoung only wanted the best clothes for you and knew all the best designer clothing shops for the two of you to visit.

You both tried on clothes for fun and some clothes you both wanted to buy. The good thing about shopping together is having their opinion or support when trying clothes on. But sometimes an opinion can go too far. Eventually, you both ended up in a shop that had clothes typically worn for parties or clubbing. After picking a few clothes you both liked you both headed to the private dressing room they had. You let Doyoung go first since he would take less time than you. You accepted and denied a few and he was left with a few garments you both liked. Then, it was your turn. You went to go change but when you came out, you saw Doyoung was still on his phone. You coughed asking for his attention and he looked up. You wore a very revealing garment that accentuated your body and you felt good in it.

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t like it. Try on the next one.”

“But I like it? What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, I just think your body doesn’t fit the garment.”

“Oh, so there's something wrong with my body now?!”

“No that's not what-“

“No! I think I understood you perfectly!”

You aggressively removed the clothes and walked out of the changing room. Before Doyoung could speak you threw the clothes at him almost causing him to fall back. You stormed out of the store with a rage-filled stare that the employees knew to stay out of your way. Doyoung went after you before you went too far.

“Bab-“

“Don’t babe me! YOU'RE the one who messed up!”

“I know but please just hear me out, babe.”

“You have 2 minutes”

“Thank you. I am so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it. You are the most beautiful person in the whole world to me. I never want you to feel insecure about who you are or what you look like. I don’t like you or care about your body. I like that you are kind, patient, and caring, you are a person with a good heart and has the soul of an angel. When I said I didn’t like the dress I was just afraid that other people wouldn’t keep their eyes off you, because I couldn’t. So…”

Doyoung held up a bag from the shop with your dress inside. You looked at him apologetically, loving his romantic gesture.

“I bought it. Just for you, I’m sorry, but I still want to see you be happy.”

“Doyoung…”

You immediately pulled him into a hug tearing up a bit from what he said to you.

“The employees must think I’m such a drama queen for doing that.”

“Well, you’re MY drama queen”

“Shut up.”

Jaehyun

You and Jaehyun bonded over your shared interests in music, which is how you two met. You both were thrift shopping in local spots in Seoul and you both happened to grab the same record at the same time. You smiled sheepishly telling Jaehyun that he can have it. But as Jaehyun bought what he wanted, he walked up to you and handed you the record as a gift from him. (even though you kept insisting that he keep it) As he left you noticed he left a post-it with his number on it saying “call me some time ;) my name is Jaehyun” You blushed at the fact of how cute and smooth that move was, so you did call him that night. You both talked for hours on the phone late at night and you guys met up a few times at coffee shops.

One time at a coffee shop Jaehyun asked you out and you agreed, wondering where this would take you two. You learned more about each other and could not keep your hands off each other. Everyone you knew thought you and Jaehyun were the perfect couple. But that wasn’t the reality. Even the thing that brings people together can tear them apart. You kept all your favorite records hung on the wall at your shared apartment, while you and Jaehyun also kept a record player. Jaehyun had some of his members over while you were cooking them a meal, little did you know they were playing around with the records. His members knew what it was but never seen one in person.

“Hyung! How does it work?!”

“Ooh, this so cool!”

“How do I turn it on!?”

Were all common things his members said in the living room.

“Guys, just sit down and I’ll handle it. It’s very delicate stu-“

He stopped talking when he head the record shatter in the living room, you didn’t seem to notice so Jaehyun calmly walked out of the kitchen. He found a shattered vinyl record on the ground surrounded by his members with Mark holding the case it was in. It was the record he had bought you when you first met. Jaehyun was about to go into a full rage when he heard you enter the living room.

“What’s going….on”

You saw the broken record on the ground and looked as if you were about to cry. You left into the bedroom speechless and about to punch and kick something. Jaehyun soon followed.

“y/-“

“NO! JAEHYUN WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“What did I do?!”

“YOU INVITED THOSE IDIOTIC MEMBERS INTO THIS APARTMENT! YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD THEM NOT TO TOUCH THE PIECES OF VINYL!”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THEY WERE GOING TO DO THIS?!”

“YOU KNOW THEM BETTER THAN ME! Out of all of the fucking pieces of vinyl why that one…”

Your angry tears made Jaehyun tear up at the sight of you. He held you tight despite your anger and your hands swatting him away.

“I’m sorry I should have told them not to touch it. I know how much it means to you and the both of us. I know it won’t be the same, but I’ll buy a new one.”

You sighed at you hugged him back wiping your tears into his chest mumbling a “fine.” he pats your head and kissed it apologizing again. You both walked back into the room seeing the members looking at the both of you in worry.

“H-hyung…I’ll buy a new one for the both of you I am so sorry,” Mark said immediately.

“Fine with me. What about you, baby?”

You nodded smiling at Mark giving him reassurance. But at least the members cleaned up while you two were quarreling. The rest of them all apologized and you forgave them. Jaehyun played a song on the record player which made you smile and kissed him, remembering the reason why you loved him.

Jungwoo

You and Jungwoo were foodies, you loved your food more than anyone. You guys would commonly go on dates that surrounded food. Picnics, restaurants, and any date that involved food is a must for both of you. It’s actually what brought you two together. You were working at your family’s bakery and Jungwoo would come in and always ask you what new pastries you recommended. Jungwoo visited every morning and eventually asked you out, you’ve been dating ever since. Jungwoo got off of training early and he wanted to take you out for some Korean barbecue. Jungwoo and you took an Uber to the Korean barbecue place that looked a lot fancier for your taste.

“Woo? Is this the right place?”

“Yeah! Do you not like it?”

“No, no I just feel underdressed”

“You look beautiful, it’s okay.”

You were both escorted to a private room where you two could eat in peace and where people wouldn’t notice Jungwoo. Jungwoo ordered all the meats, side dishes, and drinks for the both of you while you waited. You decided to strike up some conversation.

“So, how’s training? Hopefully, it isn’t too straining for you.”

“It’s a lot to manage but it’s not as bad as my trainee days. But this date is really helping me de-stress baby. How’s the bakery?”

“It’s still doing well, I just have to come up with a new pastry by the end of the week to showcase in the shop. I still have no idea what I’m going to do.”

“How about-“

“Please don’t say bananas and bacon, it’s not happening.”

“You’ll never know until you try baby.”

“Nope. Never.”

After you two laughed it off, your food finally arrived. It had meat with the perfect marbling and delicious side dishes you could eat on their own. Before you could grab the tongs to grill the meat, the waiter insisted that they cook for the best results. You awkwardly agreed and let them cook most of the meat that could fit on the grill. They soon left after they finished cooking and told you to enjoy your meal. You and Jungwoo took a bite out of your meats and wraps and you both looked at each other about how good it was. You got so carried away that you didn’t even notice you were eating more than Jungwoo. You were like a vacuum for food and no one could stop you. Jungwoo, noticing you were eating most of the food, decided to say something.

“Hey baby, you might want to slow down, you’re eating a lot.”

“Why? Are you concerned about how much I eat?”

“I just-“

“Do you think I’m getting fatter? Do you want me to lose weight?”

“What? No! I just want you to share some with me.” He said with a pout.

“Oh, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. My family’s been telling me I’ve gained some weight.”

“That’s crazy talk, even if you did gain weight, I would still love you the same.”

“Really Woo?”

“Of course baby”

“Good because I’m ordering more galbi”

He smiled as he kissed you on your cheek

“Order as much as you want.”

Mark

You and Mark have been dating for a while and he’s not the type to show you off in front of everyone. You’ve been dating for about three years and you have yet to meet his members or anyone at his company. He was so worried about your relationship being exposed that he never wanted you to attend concerts or visit the SM building. You understood at first but it started to grow to a point where you believed Mark was trying to hide you from people for other reasons than good ones. So you decided to visit the SM building on your own on a whim hoping they’d let you in. Luckily a receptionist recognized you as she consulted Mark about asking you out and giving him girl advice. She remembered you from a picture Mark had of you two on his phone that he showed. She gave you a guest pass and directory and let you in. You went up to the floors where there would be recording and dance studios assuming that’s where Mark was. You looked into the dance studio noticing Mark and his members working on a new routine. You knocked on the door and waved at Mark while the rest of his members just stared at him in confusion. He opened the door and talked to you in the hallway.

“I thought I told you not to visit me at work!”

“What’s wrong with visiting you!? Do you not want to see me?!”

“Of course I want to see you but- just, not here.”

“Are you ashamed of me? Do you not want me to meet your members or anyone in your company because you are littler mister perfect?!”

“Wh-“

“Don’t even try to convince me, Mark, you work hard to be perfect, even if it means hiding your girlfriend for three years to keep your image!”

“Who’s been telling you that?”

“My family and my friends! I just tell them I have an idol boyfriend and they warned me of things that could be a reality, and now they ARE.”

You were on the verge of tears. Everything people told you was becoming true. “He’ll never spend a lot of quality time with you.” “He’s ashamed of you.” “You’re average compared to him, be honest, you’re out of his league.” “He’ll never let you have your relationship be public until you break up or get married, you might as well give up now.”

“I don’t even remember the last time we went on a proper date, Mark.”

Mark kept silent, unsure of how to respond and shocked at the same time. You took that silence to only make you feel worse. You walked away but Mark couldn’t chase after you, he had practice and his members couldn’t start if he disappeared. You walked home with tear-stained cheeks and you laid in your shared bed watching k-dramas hoping it would help cheer you up. Mark eventually came home and he was met with the silent treatment by you. It was expected but Mark still didn’t really know how to fix it. He sat down on your bed near your legs and petting your hair and letting his thoughts out.

“Babe? I know you’re still mad at me, and you have every right to be. I was just worried about you, and you getting spread to the media is the scariest thing to me. What if you get hurt or stalked because of me and my job. When I was to dating you I sometimes wished I wasn’t an idol. You could tell all your friends about me and I could meet your family. But I’m not the perfect guy, but that’s what I like when I’m with you. You let all my flaws hang out and let me feel human. I don’t have to live up to expectations that you have, I can just be me.”

“Mark…” You said as you pulled him into a hug and kissed his temple

“I’m sorry, I just- was so worried about you and overprotective, I understand if you want to break up”

“Break up? Are you crazy? You think I would cut a whole watermelon for any idiot?!”

Mark giggled as he kissed your lips

“Fine, maybe I’ll introduce you to a few of my members and work from there. You have no idea how many times I’ve wished you could watch me backstage at a concert.”

“I can’t wait.”

Haechan

Video games were no stranger to Haechan, you would playfully tease him about being on his phone all the time. Sometime when you FaceTimed him he would just play his video games and still talk to you. But you weren’t the best at video games. Sure, Haechan would invite you to play when you visited him at the dorm but he would have to play simple sandbox games like Animal Crossing. Haechan preferred more competitive games like Overwatch or Fortnite but they were too much for you. The controls were complex and you lost immediately when playing. You decided to just watch him play while you rested on his shoulder or lap. You naturally fell asleep and he would adore and love you when you did that. But it got to a point where playing video games while on dates or when you hung out was constant. You got tired of constantly telling Haechan to put his phone down or talk to you face to face. You were out on a date in the restaurant when all you could see was the back of his phone which was in front of his face. It only made it embarrassing when other people would look at how shitty the date was.

“Hyuck?” You said, but you got no answer. You sighed as you distracted yourself with the menu to read. When the waiter came by for drinks that were the only time Haechan seemed to put his phone down to order a Coke. You ordered water and the waiter left you both in silence.

“Hyuck? Do you know what you want to order?” Again, you got no response.

“Hyuuuuuck??”

“Just order me whatever, I’ll eat anything, just let me get back to my game.”

As you were about to scold him the waiter came back and you ordered for both of you. You thanked him and handed him your menus. Then, you turned your attention back to Haechan.

“Hyuck, what’s been happening with you? You’ve been glued to your phone like it’s hypnotizing you.”

“Ugh, you’re not my mom, stop telling me what I can or can’t do with my life.”

“I’m not your mom but I am your girlfriend and I wish you would put your damn phone down and talk to me.”

“You sound so selfish right now you know that?”

“Selfish?! Are you kidding me!? You’re the one who’s selfish!”

“I don’t-“

“You know what?! I hope you can enjoy your dinner alone. Maybe you can kiss your phone from now on.”

You got up and grabbed your things and stormed out of the restaurant. Before you could call an Uber, Haechan ran up to you yelling your name.

“y/n! please! let me explain!”

“you have 5 minutes”

“I-I was playing so many video games because I was preparing to enter a competition to win some prize money so w-we could go on a vacation or a really nice date…”

“hyuck, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, I thought you would think winning money from video games would be stupid…”

“Well…it’s silly, not stupid, and it's certainly not stupid if you were winning that money to impress me, next time just tell me.”

“Okay…but does this mean I can play video games at the dinner table?”

“No. That’s my one rule, no phone at the table when we are eating or on a date ok?”

“Ok angel, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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sparrow-flies-south · 4 years

Text

I Can’t Decide (Whether You Should Live Or Die) Chapter 2

Title: I Can’t Decide (Whether You Should Live Or Die) Pairings: Romantic Thomceit Warnings: Talk of attempted murder, imagining murdering someone, references to child abuse Summary: Deceit is one of the best assassins in the business. So assassinating Thomas Sanders should not be difficult - except Thomas seems to have the amazing ability to happen to escape from death.And the longer it takes Deceit to kill Thomas, the less sure he is that he even wants to.

My Masterpost Read on AO3 Part one Fic tag

Deceit scowls down at his coffee.

He’s in the Starbucks, trying to regroup after last night’s disaster, while also avoiding the glances from the baristas. Who’s Ethan Gold? He’s Dante Ekans, a man who has never worked at Starbucks in his life.

It’s close to noon, and he’s not sure if Thomas will show up today. So this is, ostensibly, a recon mission; he’s observing Thomas’ schedule to see if it’s changed.

The shop door opens. Deceit catches a glimpse of the familiar jacket before quickly turning his head away. He can still watch out of the corner of his eye as Thomas lines up at the counter. Trying to kill Thomas with coffee had been a good idea. It wouldn’t work now, of course, since Thomas would recognise him if he tried to be a barista.

Maybe Thomas would take his eyes of his drink for a moment. Deceit could dream.

The chair across from his is pulled out, and Thomas sit down in front of him, no drink in his hand.

“Uh, hey,” Thomas says.

“Thomas,” Deceit greets. He pushes his drink across the table. “Care to try it?”

Thomas pulls a face. “Is it poisoned?”

Deceit just smiles, and Thomas gingerly pushes the drink back to the centre of the table.

“Uh, no thanks,” he says. “So, uh, you’re an assassin? How’s that going?”

“Considering you’re still alive, not great.”

“Right.” Thomas falters, clearly uncertain as to what to say. Deceit decides to take pity on him.

“Do you make a habit of talking to everyone who tries to kill you?” Deceit asks.

“Surprisingly, you’re the first person who’s tried,” Thomas says, with a small smile that implies that he’s joking. He hesitates, face growing serious again, and then asks, “Why are you trying to kill me?”

“I’m an assassin,” Deceit repeats. “I kill people for money.”

Thomas goes pale. “So someone else is paying you to kill me? Why?”

Deceit shrugs. When it comes to the agency, he doesn’t ask questions.

Thomas leans back and runs his hands through his hair. “Okay, that’s – pretty fucking terrifying. I make YouTube videos, why would somebody want me dead?”

“Take it as a compliment,” Deceit advised. “It means someone is thinking about you.”

“Okay, that’s actually not comforting at all.”

Well, in his defence, no one has ever expected Deceit to be comforting. Deceit picks up his drink and finishes it, making eye contact with Thomas the whole time. Thomas shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face.

Deceit stands up. “The coffee here is mostly safe to drink,” he tells Thomas. “Though avoid getting it from the girl with pink hair.”

Thomas pulls a face, and Deceit sweeps out of the coffee shop. It’s too conspicuous for any murder attempts to take place there at the moment. He’ll just have to kill Thomas tomorrow.

The next day, Thomas goes grocery shopping.

Deceit knows this because he follows him. It’s a surprisingly dangerous place, Walmart; anything could happen to you there. Not that Deceit is actually planning for anything to happen to Thomas. He’s found making plans in general unusually difficult lately.

But, well, if the opportunity arises…

Deceit ducks into the pasta aisle before Thomas can see him, and pretends to inspect the fussili. It’s a very interesting pasta, after all.

After waiting a couple of minute for Thomas to move on, Deceit turns to leave back up the aisle. Unfortunately Thomas, as it turns out, has not actually moved very far, because he’s coming down the pasta aisle. Both of them freeze, and then Thomas lifts a hand and waves.

Deceit strolls over, trying to look as if he’d known Thomas would be here the whole time.

“Hey, Mr Assassin Man,” Thomas says. He frowns. “Huh, I just realised that I don’t know your name.”

“Call me Deceit.”

“You know what, sure,” Thomas says. “So, uh, are you going to kill me?”

“It’s not like it’s my job or anything,” Deceit says, and Thomas tenses, hands tightening around the shopping cart. “Oh, wonderful idea, I should absolutely murder you in the middle of Walmart, where anyone could see. You really are a natural at this, Thomas.”

“Alright, alright,” Thomas says, rolling his eyes. “But if you’re not planning on killing me, why are you here?”

“Why, I’d have thought that was obvious. I’m lurking, of course.”

“Lurking, huh?” Thomas actually looks amused.

“And scheming, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Wow, you’re a multitasker,” Thomas says. “Did they teach you that in assassin school?”

Deceit very much does not flinch or tense at that, because that would be a sign of weakness. Thomas’ face just falls for a completely unrelated reason. Most people in the agency know about Deceit’s childhood – they all went through some form of the same training, after all, even if Deceit started younger. Some of them even remember him as a child.

So no one had ever asked about his past- not Deceit, anyway. They might ask Ethan, the barista, or Dante, the charming business man, and Deceit had stories prepared for all of them. No one had ever wanted to know more about Deceit, though.

“Sorry,” Thomas said. “Shitty joke?”

“Actually, I was top in my class at lurking,” Deceit says, as if nothing had happened, and Thomas actually looks relieved.

“Guess it’s an important skill to know,” Thomas says.

Deceit hums in agreement. Thomas grabs a couple of packs and pasta and throws them into the cart, and begins to move down the aisle. Deceit follows without thinking about it. It just feels natural.

The next two aisles pass mostly in silence, other than when Deceit tells Thomas to get a different brand of cheese (it’s far better than the one Thomas was reaching for), or when Thomas makes a pun bad enough that Deceit groans and cover his face with one hand (which has the bonus effect of hiding his laughter). In the snacks aisle, Thomas goads Deceit into buy a pack of fruit roll-ups for himself.

“Hey,” Thomas says when they’re in line for the checkout. “It’s just me you want to kill, right?”

“For now,” Deceit says. “I’m hardly old enough to retire after this.”

“That’s not what I meant. Though it’d be good if you did- never mind. What about Virgil?”

“What about him?” Deceit asks.

“He saw you,” Thomas points out. “What are you doing to do to him?”

Deceit hesitates. It wouldn’t be a hard decision, ordinarily. Virgil either has to die, or else be framed for Thomas’ death, so that anything he might have to say will be dismissed as the desperate attempts of a murderer to avoid justice. Killing him is the easiest option – while Deceit prefers to avoid collateral damage, there are times when it’s necessary.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Deceit admits, because while it shouldn’t be a hard decision, it is.

He can imagine Thomas’ reaction to hearing his thoughts. The way Thomas would go pale and scared, how he’d look at Deceit as if Deceit was the monster lurking in the darkness. How he’d start begging for Virgil’s life again.

It doesn’t matter how Thomas feels about any of this, since Thomas will be dead in a few days anyway.

They reach the front of the line, then, and so can’t say anything else. Thomas pays for the fruit roll-ups before Deceit can even try to pay for them himself.

“See you tomorrow?” Thomas asks with a smile as they walk towards the exit, only half joking. Deceit nods.

He’ll just have to kill Thomas then.

The crew working on the house renovation near Thomas’ house received a convenient call reporting a gas leak, and so work on it had to be put on hold until further notice. It means that Deceit has an excellent place to go to while figuring out how he’s going to kill Thomas.

Perhaps he could tamper with Thomas’ stove so it blows up the next time he tries to cook with it – except, no, he’s seen inside Thomas’ kitchen. There’s no way Thomas and Virgil actually ever use it. Also, he’d need to figure out a way to get Virgil out of the house for it to happen.

“Deceit?” Someone calls from downstairs.

Deceit creeps down to the first floor. The house is shadowed from the lack of power, and he’s familiar enough with it to be able to move around unseen, even though it’s daytime. Thomas is in the entry way, holding two takeout cups from Starbucks. Thomas slips out a side window, and then circles round to the front of the house, so that he’s standing behind Thomas.

“Yes?” he asks, and Thomas jumps and spins round, splashing coffee over his hands.

Thomas curses, and almost drops the coffee, so Deceit darts forward and grabs the cups. Thomas shakes his hand through the air.

“Thanks,” Thomas says. “Actually, no, no thanks. That was your fault! Why did you do that?”

“It’s important to stay alert,” Deceit replies. “Especially when there are assassin’s after you.”

“There’s only one assassin after me, and apparently his preferred method is giving me a heart attack,” Thomas mutters. He wipes his hand on his shirt and then takes on of the cups. When Deceit offers him the other one, he shakes his head. “That one’s yours. Promise it isn’t poisoned.”

Deceit raises an eyebrow and takes a sip. Caramel frappe, nice. “Actually, I have been slowly taking poisons my entire life to develop an immunity.”

“I have no idea if you’re kidding or not.”

That’s how Deceit likes it. He leads the way upstairs, and Thomas follows without hesitation. Deceit leads them to the balcony. Thomas sits down on the floor, and Deceit does so too.

“What are you doing here?” Deceit asks.

Thomas holds up the coffee cup in answer.

“I meant at this house,” Deceit corrects.

Thomas laughs. “Funny story. I wanted to get you coffee, then realised I don’t know where to find you. Anyway, I remembered the time a brick almost fell on me, and, well, I made a guess.”

“By wandering into an abandoned building?” Deceit tsks. “Come one, Thomas, surely you have a better sense of self-preservation than that.”

“Well, I’m having coffee with the guy that wants to kill me, so apparently not,” Thomas jokes.

Thomas lifts the cup to his mouth and drinks. Deceit watches the way his lips press against the rim, then quickly looks back down at his own cup. They’re sitting close together; if Deceit moves wrong they might brush against each other by accident.

“Did you know,” Deceit says, running a finger around the rim of his cup, “That I tried to kill you with coffee once?”

“You did?” Thomas asks. “I didn’t catch that one.”

“It was my first attempt,” Deceit says. “I put peanuts in it.”

Thomas pulls a face. “That- would probably do it, yep. How come it didn’t work?”

“It appears you have a doppelganger?”

“That time my order got mixed up?” Thomas guesses, and Deceit nods. Thomas snorts. “Wait, you gave the poisoned coffee to the wrong guy?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re the one who brought it up!”

“Not. Talking about it.”

“Alright, fine.” Thomas raises his hands in surrender, laughing. “How many times did you try, anyway?”

“Three – no, four,” Deceit says. “You should probably get your car looked at, by the way.”

“Noted,” Thomas says, grimacing. “And I very much do not want to know, by the way.”

“Noted,” Deceit echoes, smiling.

He lets his attention drift to the street below them. Two women are walking down it, hand in hand. On the side closest to the house, a teenager walks by, staring down at his phone. Deceit wonders if Thomas knows them, if he waves to them when he sees them. Whether they will notice when Thomas is gone.

“Hey, Deceit?” Thomas asks, and when Deceit looks over, he’s staring down at his lap, fingers tapping against the side of his cup. “Can I ask a favour?”

“What is it?” Deceit asks cautiously.

“When you, uh, when you kill me,” Thomas starts, voice going unsteady. “Could you- let Virgil go, maybe?”

Deceit looks away. Something in his chest is twisting uncomfortably at this conversation.

“Virgil’s a good guy,” Thomas continues. “And- whatever I’ve done to piss someone off so much, it has nothing to do with him.”

“I’ll consider it,” Deceit says, the closest thing to a promise that he can give.

Thomas swipes at his eyes. Deceit stares at the floor; he can offer Thomas this much privacy, at least.

“So,” Thomas says, still with a slight tremor in his voice. “Do you watch Avatar?”

Deceit hasn’t, which leads Thomas to explain all the many reason why Deceit really should watch Avatar. This then leads to an argument over what the best cartoon is (Deceit is greatly disadvantaged, as he only has knowledge of the cartoons he saw before the age), and Thomas explains in great detail the intricacies of Gravity Falls.

Deceit will just have to kill Thomas tomorrow.

Except, as it turns out, tomorrow isn’t soon enough.

Deceit’s phone – the one that belong to him, not any of his aliases – rings only once before he answers. He knows the importance of a prompt response.

“Deceit,” the Dragon says the moment he picks up. “What is the issue?”

“There is no issue,” Deceit answers. He considers saying something else, but the Dragon speaks first.

“It’s been a week, and Thomas Sanders is still alive. What is the reason for this delay?”

Deceit goes still, even though the Dragon can’t see him through the phone. He’d know, of course, that he has a job to do, that he’s on a time limit. And yet, he’d still allowed himself to forget, just for a few minutes. If the Dragon suspects the real cause – that Thomas knows about Deceit and yet is still alive, that Deceit has been fraternising with him – then Deceit will be punished, will be brought back in line, and Thomas will be killed.

Killed by an assassin who doesn’t care about him, who might even enjoy killing, enjoy the feeling of having someone at the mercy. Who might want to make it last.

And if Virgil tries to stop them, or even if he just sees, he’ll be killed as well, even though Thomas asked Deceit to let Virgil do.

He’s barely aware of answering the Dragon, or travelling across town, but somehow he ends up in front of Thomas’ house anyway. He lets himself in through the back again – the locks have been changed, but they haven’t been changed well.

Someone is on the sofa and Deceit freezes until he is sure they are asleep. It’s Virgil, with his laptop open in front of him, the screen gone dark. As Deceit passes, he can see how exhausted Virgil look; Deceit can imagine he’s been staying up since the night of the break in.

He climbs the stairs without making a sound. The lights under both doors are dark, and Deceit slips silently into Thomas’ room. Thomas is sprawled across his bed, asleep. Deceit steps further inside, closing the door behind him softly.

He can smother Thomas with a pillow, the way he’d planned, or slit his throat, or strangle him in his sleep. Could poison the food in the kitchen, or start a fire and make it so that Thomas can’t get out. Instead he says, “Thomas.”

Thomas startles awake, looking around the room frantically.

“Deceit?” he hisses, reaching for the bedside lamp and clicking it on. When the room is lit up, Deceit can see the fear on Thomas’ face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Deceit snaps.

“What?” Thomas looks bewildered.

“Twenty years,” Deceit says, and he really shouldn’t be talking but he can’t stop. “I’ve done this for twenty years, I’m good at this, one of the best, and yet somehow you keep escaping. Even though I was only given this job because there was nothing else for me to do.”

“Deceit,” Thomas says.

“Shut up,” Deceit snaps. “Just- stop talking.”

Thomas falls silent. Deceit paces around the room, one hand pulling at his hair.

“It’s okay.” Thomas’ voice is shaking, his whole body is shaking, and in the dim light of lamp, Deceit can see tears spill down Thomas’ face.

“You have to kill me,” Thomas says. “I get it. I’m not happy about it, but-” he trails off, and then just adds, “It’ll be okay.”

And now Deceit has no excuse, because Thomas if just going to let him, has already convinced himself that is what a good person would do. And Deceit really wishes he could be proud of managing to do that.

But all he can do is stand there, and he realises that he can’t kill Thomas. Realises that he’s know this for a while.

It’s terrifying. Ever since he was nine, Deceit’s life has revolved around his job. Without it, there’s nothing left of him, and to keep it, he needs to kill Thomas.

“Deceit?” Thomas asks, leaning forwards, frowning and looking concerned, and that’s how Deceit realises that he’s shaking, that his lungs don’t seem to be working properly because he can’t breathe.

Thomas grabs Deceit’s arm, and Deceit finds himself being pulled down onto the bed.

“Come on,” Thomas says, incredibly gentle. “Breathe in for four, okay? One, two, three, four. Good. Now hold for seven.”

Deceit has seen enough panic attacks to be able to recognise one. He follows Thomas’ instructions until his chest loosen just a little.

“I don’t want to pry or anything,” Thomas says, “But- are you okay?”

Deceit doesn’t have an answer to that. But he’s not going to kill Thomas today, and if he isn’t going to do that, then he shouldn’t be here. He gets to his feet, and stumbles towards the door. A hand tightens around his wrist before he makes it, and when he looks Thomas is there, out of his bed.

“Wait,” Thomas says. “Don’t go. Just-”

Deceit places his hand over Thomas’. Thomas’ eyes are wide, are terrified, which doesn’t make any sense because Deceit is leaving.

“My name is Janus,” he says, and then he flicks his wrist, and sends Thomas to the ground.

He flees out of Virgil’s window, so there’s no chance of Thomas catching up to him, and disappears into the night.

He doesn’t plan on coming back.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #character Thomas #janus sanders #tss janus #thomceit #i cant decide #my fic

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bokunohero-writings · 4 years

Note

ahh, for the prompts 2 10 n 29 for midoriya? :o you can choose which one out of those you wanna write for if preferred! ^^

OHHHHH listen today was shitty to say the least and some good angst is just what I need to let it all out and this prompts together *chefs kiss*! Thank you so much for the request for best boy, such a cutie. I hope you like it!!!! Thank you so much for the request again!

Prompts: “It’s okay to cry.” “None of this is your fault”

Midoriya Izuku

__________________________________

You flung open the door of you apartment flat, stumbling over to the couch where you decidedly let your body drop. It had been a long day on hero duty, and while the week had been positively uneventful today both you and your hero partner had not caught a break having to stop a bank heist just after a pursue with some low tier scoundrels which proved to be more annoyingly scurryish than actually dangerous. You have had tougher days but now all you wanted was to relax.

Deku closed the door after him and smiled tiredly at the sight of you on the couch, facing downwards as you grunted. He had been planing to wait onto the weekend to carry on his plan but figured you would love a little boost of energy and some quality time to chill with him and get pampered. He kneeled by your side and placed a soft kiss your smushed up cheek.

“Hey cutie! I was thinking maybe you’d like to go have some dinner with me, I think some of your favorite comfort food would be a great way to improve your mood!” He smiled ever sweetly at you.

“Yes!” Your head shot up immediately at the mention of food, your stomach suddenly growling with hunger as you met your boyfriends beautiful green eyes closer than you expected. Smiling you pressed a kiss to his nose, and right then and there he would swear nothing in the world could make him happier than what he now had. He was a rising hero, fulfilling his dream of saving as much people as possible now with a wider knowledge and control of his quirk thanks to his training at the UA in his highschool years. However, how also got to fulfill it next to you, someone who was so dear to him and so close to his heart, so amazing in every way. He wouldn’t change a thing.

You stretched right after getting up, pressing a soft kiss on Midoriya’s lips right before disappearing into your room to get changed. You stared at yourself in the mirror, few times did you actually get to dress up nicely for going outside, considering the fact that most of the time your hero outfit was much needed outside your home. With one last glance at yourself you left the room to meet with your boyfriend.

“You look amazing” His eyes fixed on you, a warm smile spread across his face as you blushed. He walked over to your and wrapped his arms around you before peppering your face with kisses.

Linking your arm with his, the both of you exited the flat. He introduced a hand onto his pocket, softly wrapping his hand around a black velvet box, his heart jumping at the thought.

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The night was beautiful and warm, the wind gushed around you carrying delicious scents of the street food carts scattered all across downtown. With a deep breath you let your lungs fill with the fresh night’s breeze and you squeezed your boyfriends arm as you heard him gush about what his friends had been recently up to. The pavement on your feet shining with the colorful lights that adorned the buildings thanks to the dew that had coated the city with the afternoon’s sun.

The two of you enjoyed each other’s company in such a relaxing setting as much as you could, as it was a rare perk that you could give yourself only once every few moons.

“…so that is why we don’t let Kacchan near the movie theater” He chuckled lightly at the memory and smiled when he saw you listening to him intently. Excitement building up in his stomach as you neared your destination.

The ground shook underneath you, and both you and Deku looked around wide-eyed, hoping to find the source of the commotion.

Just from around the corner you heard people shouting and almost as in que a burst of light illuminated the street and loud explosion made your ears ring. The two of you stared at each other, worry in both your eyes. In perfect synchronisation you ran to investigate just what in the world had just happened and your stomach dropped at the sight of a Nomu, one of the biggest ones you had seen yet.

“Deku, we need to get help, urgently” You spoke quickly, ready to rush off for backup, something just told you it would be a lost cause if the two of you went against it alone. Midoriya on the other hand had begun muttering to himself, thinking that the best strategy would be to hold him off while help arrived, that way you could stop it from harming more people.

“We can’t just leave like this Y/N, I’m sure more heroes are on the way” He braced himself, one for all flowing every through his body as he was ready to pounce. “I’ll hold him back”

You glanced at the monster, it was insanely large and sharp blades covered most of his body, black goo oozing from those uncovered areas almost as if covered in boiling oil. He turned to look at you, clearly noticing Izuku’s sudden burst of energy. A gaping hole with large teeth that seemed to extend was all you were met with, the beating of your heart suddenly on your ears.

“I can’t leave you like this…not with that” Midoriya was however fixated on the Nomu and before you could do anything about it he jumped towards it. The thing screeching in an unholy way before charging right back at him, you had to help him, you were partners for a reason. You’d fight alongside him no matter what, even if you were unsure if this was more than you could take.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A sudden punch to your guts sucked the breath out of you, and as much as you tried your legs seemed to finally give up, dropping to the ground with a loud thud. A warm pain spread through your abdomen, your head feeling fuzzy the more you moved it, but your eyes were glued onto the green and red flash soaring across the sky.

Izuku’s mind raced a million thoughts a second as he saw your frail body give up on you, adrenaline ran though his body, he was not sure whether it was anger, heroism or the sheer need to protect you, but he could feel the power building up on his body, wanting to end this once and for all.

“One for all 100%….” He was done with this fight, he just wanted to rush and be by your side.

You saw your boyfriend connect with the Nomu who had just charged towards him trying to land in a blow, and after that all you could make up was a flash of red light before flying backwards and fading away, the buzzing in your ears being the last sensation to get lost in the blur.

________________________________

“Wake up…please…please wake up” Izuku choked, wet tears threatening to escape him as he clutched your hand

The constant beeping of a monitor was the second sound that you were able to make up as your eyes opened slowly to be met with pristine white walls.You squeezed your hand as your felt calloused fingers around it and you slowly turned your head to meet your boyfriend’s beautiful eyes once more.

“What a nice way to wake up” You said, voice barely audible, speaking was harder than you remembered.

“Y/N…” He sounded so absolutely broken as he threw his body over yours, careful not to press on your frail figure, not that you’d feel much anyways. His arms wrapped around your neck as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his heart as a heavy lump on his throat.

“You warned me… I didn’t…I didn’t listen, if we had done as you said maybe you, maybe I…” He was having a hard time with words, all this time wishing to be a hero, wanting to make the world safe for everyone, and he could not even protect you.

“My love…None of this is your fault” Your heart ached more than your body by just seeing him like that, you raised your hand slowly to caress his cheek. It felt so cold against his skin.

“Please don’t you blame yourself” You smiled, even if it took up most of your energy, you could not go, not if you would leave him like this. He held your hand against his cheek, trying so hard not to cry. He was never afraid to show his feeling but he just did not want you to see him cry, not as your last sight. His bottom lip quivered and his wide eyes began glistening. He always had a hard time remaining stoic, and you loved him for it, you did not want him to hold back.

“It’s okay to cry my love…just please don’t suffer for me, I wouldn’t go truly at peace” You chuckled as you saw wet tears run down his cheeks and onto your chest, small whimpers making their way up his throat. “Don’t be afraid to let go…I…I just want you to promise you’ll be okay”

Midoriya couldn’t talk, he stuffed one of his hand on his pocket, wrapping his fingers around the black velvet box he had cried over so many nights by your hospital bed. He couldn’t promise, not at least until he had gotten his answer, even if it was only for the few moments the two of you had left. He took in a deep breath and after letting go of a choked down sob he braced himself to talk.

“I promise…I promise I’ll try, but I just need to know” He placed the small velvet box in front of you, a beautiful ring, simple but perfect. Tears filled your eyes as your breath was taken away, your heart filled with love as the boy in front of you looked at you with hopeful eyes. “Would you have said yes?”

“I…yes…forever” It was getting harder for you to speak, as your breaths became shorter and the lack of air began to make your lungs ache, clearly your time was over, and all you wanted to think as you drifted away was of the beautiful life you had by his side, only hoping he’d be easy on himself and lead the future that was so abruptly ripped away from you.

No one dared enter the room that day, and Izuku refused to leave your side, eyes dry from all the tears. Maybe one day he’d be able to forgive himself but it’d be a long time for that.

#BNHA #deku midorya #deku #deku x y/n #deku x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #BNHA imagines #Deku imagines #Deku scenarios

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louadorable126 · 4 years

Text

Demons(you).me - Chapter 6 Redgrave Market

>>Click here to Read over on AO3!<<

Art by Aya/ITOUYAS! <3

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Summary:

In a city controlled by the generally altered race of Demons, Lady's life as a mercenary on the lower floor was never easy. Especially when she ran into Dante. A demon on the hunt for his missing brother.

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Important information!

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Realtionships: Dante x Lady, Vergil x Lady

Characters: Lady, Dante, Vergil, Morrison, Nell Goldstien, Eva, Sparda, Mundus

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Genetic Engineering, Sci-fi Fantasy, Strip Clubs and Strippers, Dystopia, Seizures, Flirting, Eva and Sprada are alive!, Human Experimentation, Cults.

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Chapter 6

“Hang on. You want me to do what?!” A familiar deep voice, on the other end of the phone, exclaimed.

“I need you to find us a way into that event, Morrison!” Lady repeated herself; words laced with growing frustration. Her hand tightening its hold around the bright yellow ceiling handle hanging above her. “Yes, I know you don’t deal with the Cult of Fortuna! But this is really kinda urgent!”

The heat of the compartment was really starting to get to her. Sweat beads welling up on her forehead and covering it in a wet, salty glaze. It was hard to tell if this was because of the stress of negotiating with Morrison, or the 60 or so people rammed into the same monorail cart around her - pressed up against one another like sheep in an inclosed pen. It felt as though she was being cooked in a gruelling dry oven. The air conditioning unit stationed above her, trying its best as it worked overtime to pump small blasts of cool air in the mercenary’s direction, to little avail except for a brief millisecond of chilly relief she gained from it.

Her compatriots, likewise, also seemed to be uncomfortable in their current situation.

Apparently, Dante’s already non-existent attention span had been quickly eroded away in the 15 or so minutes he had been forced to stand here. Well…not really stand. As he had leaned back against one of the glass archways, in-between the main seating area and the exit door, arms crossed. Obviously rather bored, if the occasional upset, deep sighs she heard coming from his direction, were anything to go by. Alongside the sweet sound of him humming some kind of rock song, unbeknownst to anyone but himself, and tapping his foot on the floor to its invisible beat. His eyes closed, although occasionally peaking one sapphire eye open to see if their final destination was coming up on the floating holographic sign above them. Only to always be sorely disappointed, then returning to his sweet humming.

Vergil, meanwhile, was sitting on a small plastic bench in between the pair of them. It seemed he had declared some sort of silent, and bloody war against a screaming and whining young child across from them; the child’s ignorant mother taking no action to stop them. His sharp eyes fixed intently on the small, high-pitched creature. Glaring at them angrily, as though the demon thought that by some miracle, it would get the child to shut up. That...obviously wasn’t working however, and the little boy continued to screech regardless.

Lady took the opportunity to slip a glance over her shoulder at the elder twin, while her conversation between her and her employer lulled for a moment. Morrison deep in thought as he lit up another cigar.

It was crystal clear from how tense and rigid the blue demon’s body language was becoming - his sharp pale jawline, peaking from beneath the veil of shadows covering his aristocratic features, hardening - that Vergil was soon going to blow. Massively. Which given the elder twin's track record for bloody slaughter, could only really lead to a disaster on a packed train like this. All Lady could do was hold her breath, and hope they could get off this nightmarish train before that happened.

“Alright. Cause’ its you little missy, I’ll see what I can do.” Morrison relented. A touch of fatherly gruffness to his voice. "Not making any promises though. Fuck. I don’t even wanna to think about whose strings I’m gonna have to tug to pull this off!”

“I certainly appreciate it, Morrison. Cheers.” Lady thanked, before ending the call. Sliding her phone into her skirt pocket.

“So is he going to do it?” Dante asked. Smiling hopefully at her.

“Sounds like it.” Lady confirmed with a nod. Switching her cramping arm, holding onto the ceiling handle, over to the other. “I’m sure he’ll pull through with something.”

More accurately, they needed him to pull through with something.

Despite being the one to send them off on this perilous quest in the first place. Augustus had been kind enough to provide them as much information as he could gather about this “Charity Ball”. Sending through several of the emails he had received from the cult’s network, after the group had handed back his laptop.

And it was just as well he had! Because, as it turned out, the Charity Ball drastically moved location every time it was held. From fancy restaurants on the middle floor to a gentrified warehouse in the slums. However, this time it seemed the location of choice was a small expo centre. Ironically, it was surprisingly close to the hotel where she had first encountered Vergil.

But, even if they at least knew this secret meeting's location, it still didn’t mean they had any way to actually enter the Ball. It was an invite only event. Unless Lady wanted to bankrupt herself a few hundred times over, she sure as hell was not buying her way inside! It wasn’t even like the twins could do much to help either, even with their father’s limitless wealth. As Vergil had pointed out, it would be obvious they came from a demonic household, given that they weren’t already a part of the pre-established wealthy society of humans. And thus, given the Cult of Fortuna’s fears about being found out by the demonic authorities, they’d be swiftly rejected regardless.

“MUUUUUUUUUUM I WANNA GET OFF! THIS SO BORING!” The bratty child screamed at the top of his lungs. Before pointing a chubby finger over in the group's direction. “SERIOUSLY THIS PLACE SMELLS FUNNY!! ESPECIALLY THAT CREEPY GUY WHO KEEPS STARING AT ME-“

The child didn’t have a chance to finish. Pinned against the opposite train wall by the sharp tip of Yamato’s silver blade, held dubiously resting above the boy's heart, in less than the blink of an eye. The boy fell, choked on his words. Only letting out a small whimper in terror as he looked up at the towering man before him. The whole crowd erupted into a mania of panicked screaming and backing away from the scene. Leaving a circle of free space around them.

Crap, this isn’t good! Lady thought to herself. Silently cursing the child for antagonising Vergil when they had seemed so close to being able to get off without a hitch. The next station’s only a minute away, dammit!

“What on earth are you doing!” The child’s mother cried hysterically. Reaching out to push him off her son, before being stopped dead in her tracks by Vergil’s cutting glare.

“Teaching your child the consequences of his actions.” Vergil informed her sharply. A look of genuine confusion shot onto the woman’s features at his declaration. As though she had no idea what he was talking about."You really are a terrible mother, aren’t you? Don’t you realise there are other people on this train who do not wish to hear your child's screeching? You are not only neglectful to your son, but also to common decency.”

The mother grew enraged at his accusation. Clenching one hand tightly around the handle of her crimson handbag, as her heart-shaped face twisted and disfigured in offence. “B-but I don’t control what my son does! He’s his own person-“

“Yes. But as his guardian you have an obligation to do something, woman!” Vergil snapped angrily.

“Yeah, as much as my bro might be overreacting. He’s kinda got a point lady.” Dante chimed in. Causally moving to stand over beside Vergil so that they were back to back; Dante leaning a portion of his body weight against his brother.

Subtly, he elbowed his twin’s lower back. Getting Vergil’s attention off the child and towards him. The blue demon tilted his head over his shoulder in Dante’s direction, before leaning in close and whispering into his ear. “Think the kid’s got the idea, Verge. Wanna let him go?”

At his brother’s words, Vergil withdrew his blade. Returning Yamato back to its holster under his coat with a satisfying click. He turned away with a flourish of his blue coat, leaving the now silent child in his tracks. As he headed for the train doors, the packed crowd standing in his path shifted aside for him, like he was parting the Red Sea, just as a masculine, artificial voice stated; “We will shortly be arriving at Redgrave Market Station. Please stand clear of the doors for those exiting.”

“That’s our stop! You coming babe?” Dante called out over his shoulder, walking straight past Lady after his brother, as the train’s heavy doors slid open and bright artificial street light flooded through into the dim cabin. Illuminating their escape.

“Yep!” Lady exclaimed, embarrassingly high-pitched. Finding it hard to keep her cool with all these people, likely hundreds, staring at her. After quickly sparing a glance to check if the young boy was ok - which seemed to be the case, as his mother cradled the now crying child close to her chest, ironically finally paying him the scrap of obviously needed attention - the mercenary fled the train just as its metal doors slammed shut behind her.

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Click here to read more over on Ao3! :D

#devil may cry #dmc #dante #vergil #dante sparda #vergil sparda #dmc lady #dmc dante #dmc vergil #devil may cry fanfiction

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synvamp · 5 years

Text

Getting Lucky

On patrol. Alone with Clover. This is fine.

Hook up fic with D&M, ridic flirting, angst!Qrow and so much love for Clover's pants XD

Rating: M

---xxx---

Qrow took a long breath. He ran one hand through his hair and looked at his face in the reflective surface of the window one more time. He looked nervous as hell. Great.

Off on patrol. With Clover. Both of their teams were training but Jimmy insisted that his team leaders share a few hours to talk strategy and learn about each other’s fighting techniques. Knowledge enables control, he’d said. Whatever that means.

“See you tonight then,” Clover had said as they left the briefing, “Meet you down in Mantle, outside the Service Hanger at eight?” and then he winked and waltzed off, just like that.

“It’s not like you’re going on a date or anything,” Qrow muttered angrily at his reflection.

It felt so weird to have a guy flirt with him that he couldn’t even tell if it was really happening… It had been so long! He’d been so busy with Ruby and Raven and Yang and trying not to let his demons get the better of him. Who had time for a love life?!

The loneliness hadn’t helped, sure but it was starting to be a comfort. No one to let down… No; no one to drag down with his miserable semblance and his miserable life. And Clover had just breezed in. Just flicked his wrist in his cocky half salute as if he was saying, “Luck? I’ve got enough for the two of us.” Just like that.

It had been so long since he’d met a man he was interested in, he’d almost stared to think that maybe he wasn’t bi after all… maybe it was just because he was young or drunk, things like that happen, right? But there was no question now. Certain parts of his anatomy were absolutely sure.

But was Clover even flirting? Maybe he was always like that… cocky but full of empathy, warm, sincere… I sound like a teenager. I’m so horny all a man has to do is wink at me and I get all sweaty! But it wasn’t all he’d done at all. Every time Qrow looked in those turquoise eyes he thought, he’s not so great. He might be gorgeous and have a chiselled jaw and shoulders you could yoke a cart to but he’s just a show off. It’s nothing. He’s nothing.

And then Clover said something like, “They’re lucky to have you,” and looked at him like he knew every tormented thought that ever entered his head and suddenly he was right back where he started. Sweaty.

No… he wasn’t flirting. He was just like that. He just… winked at people. It’s a normal thing that someone like that would do. A confident person. It’s not like I would know how that feels, all my confidence came from a bottle. Looking up, he realised he’d turned the last corner of the long metal corridor and was about to step out into the hanger bay. A short walk around Hanger Four and he’d be at the maintenance end. He checked the time. It was seven fifty five.

Maybe I should stay here a while. Don’t want to be hanging around for ages looking nauseous.

Being sober is so damn annoying.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Clover’s voice bounced off the metal walls, strong and confident as always.

“Yeah, imagine,” Qrow replied, turning. Awkwardly standing in a corridor. Excellent start.

“I thought maybe a turn around the CBD?” Clover smiled.

Qrow nodded and they walked out the door to cross the concrete expanse of the hanger bay, skirting the landing strip. They walked in step, taking in the darkening evening, the lights slowly blinking on one by one.

Ok, Qrow told himself, you can do this!

“I like your weapon,” he said, “I haven’t seen a hook used like that in combat before.”

“I’m one of a kind,” Clover said, his eyebrows twitching.

Come on, Qrow smiled inwardly, he has got to be flirting.

“I’d love to have more of a chance to see you in action,” Clover let the words hang in the air; “Your sword looks pretty interesting too.”

“Yeah,” Qrow put an affectionate hand on Harbinger, “It sure is something special.”

“It’s rather… large though. Not compensating for anything?” Clover’s eyes twinkled.

“From the man whose radio call sign is Alpha?” Qrow raised an eyebrow. They laughed.

Clover exchanged a few words with the soldiers at the gate and they exited the military zone and stepped into the street.

“There are still a few grim getting in,” Clover said as they turned left at the gate and started a long loop around the middle few blocks of town, “so if we get lucky, I’ll get my chance to see you use it.”

Qrow smiled and they strolled in silence. There weren’t many people on the streets after everything that had happened. There was still quite a bit of damage too, it made the place feel eerie. Like the calm before the storm.

“If we go around this way, we can check the damaged sections of the wall on the way,” Clover gestured down an alley off to their left.

“Lead the way.”

The wall had been braced with rubble and some beams from a house which had been demolished a little way off. It seemed secure enough, for the time being.

“So how long have you been leading the Ace Ops?” Qrow asked, trying to make conversation.

“Not long, General Ironwood liked my style. Figured I’d be a good choice to keep the team from killing each other, I guess.”

“That bad?”

“A bit like herding cats but I like it,” Clover shook his head, “They’re good at what they do and they’ve got my back. And we’ve been lucky so far.”

“No surprises there,” Qrow sighed.

“I might have had a little look into your history too,” Clover said, not making eye contact. “Seems you’re a bit famous.”

“Infamous,” Qrow muttered, then added louder, “You could have just asked me, you know.”

“Well, where would be the fun in that?”

“Not much fun in any of it, I’m afraid,” Qrow sighed. He realised he was being melancholy and hastily re-joined, “Things have been better recently though, I feel like with Team RWBY we can really make a difference. It’s probably just wishful thinking but you know… they’re so young and enthusiastic, it’s kind of…”

“Infectious?” Clover finished, “I find luck’s like that too.”

“Does that mean I get lucky?” Qrow asked, only realising what he was saying after the words had escaped. He felt heat rising in his cheeks. Yay! I’m going to blush! This is turning out just swell.

“I’m not sure yet,” Clover smiled, “Guess we’ll find out.”

Qrow turned away to hide the rising pink in his cheeks, just as the sounds of shouts for help reached their ears. Maybe I am getting luckier after all, he thought as they ran towards the noise. I’m much less likely to stuff up fighting than conversation…

Four Boarbatusks had a woman pinned down in the middle of the street, further back a man and a young boy cowered, eyes desperately fixed on the scene. Clover cast his rod and the hook sailed through the air, one of the grim leapt forward to knock the line away. Qrow fired two shots moving fast, he took out the first grim with a sweeping blow of the scythe in sword form and then leapt high. The hook found its target and pulled the second grim off its feet. Qrow arced high and landed, decapitating the beast with a sweeping blow. The third creature knocked him backwards and as he spun up into the air, he could see Clover looking up at him, rod casually slung over one shoulder. He really was enjoying the show, it seemed.

Halfway between amusement and irritation, Qrow kicked off the building and flipped high. The grim advanced on the prone woman and her shriek cut through the air. He threw the blade and it stuck in the ground between them. Out of the corner of his eye, Qrow saw the silver hook sail past him; he landed and then grabbed the line as it flew by, yanking Clover off his feet and into the melee. No spectators thanks, Qrow smiled. Clover landed in front of him and swept the rod low, knocking the nearest grim off its feet. Qrow pressed a latch and his sword became his beloved scythe, he rolled over Clover’s back and swept it in a level arc. The third grim erupted into tatters of black. The very last creature reared back, its sharp hoofs cleaving the air above Clover’s head. Qrow finished his circle and brought the scythe point down. The blade pierced the grim’s head and it was over, seconds after it had begun.

Qrow stretched out a hand to lift Clover off the cobbles, “Out of ten?” he asked.

Clover stood and dusted himself off, “Eight? I like the scythe better,” he smiled.

“Me too,” Qrow stepped over to where the lady still lay and helped her gently to her feet. Her family came running, the man shouting, “Esther! Oh thank you, thank you!” to the two men.

Qrow opened his mouth to say, “It was nothing,” but Clover beat him to it.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “You can tell your friends you were saved by Qrow Branwen.”

Qrow cringed.

“You really have a problem with compliments, hey?” Clover teased as they walked away.

“I’m just not the round-of-applause type,” Qrow muttered.

“Well, I think you could use some practice.”

“What do you mean?” Qrow asked, highly suspicious.

“I’ll say something nice about you and you just have to take it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That sounds extremely awkward,” Qrow observed, suppressing a little thrill.

“Only if you make it that way,” Clover grinned, “Come on, look at me.”

They stopped walking. Qrow turned to face him and looked deep into those blindingly bright turquoise eyes. He swallowed.

“You’re an amazing role model,” Clover said.

Qrow blinked, struggling for an appropriate reaction.

“You’re a great fighter. I’ve heard stories about your time at the academy that just about made my hair curl.”

Qrow’s mouth twitched with a hint of a smile.

“You’re determined. I know you’ve had a lot to deal with these last few years but you never give up.”

Qrow looked at the ground. He felt like he’d given up a thousand times but… he was still here.

“You’re..”

“No, you’re right. I can’t do it,” Qrow laughed awkwardly.

“Come on, just one more,” Clover’s hand reached out and found Qrow’s elbow. Qrow looked up and their eyes met, “You’re very sexy.”

Qrow’s eyes widened and he stepped back.

“Uh.. sorry,” Clover laughed, “Just an observation.”

Qrow took a breath, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I wax lyrical and that’s all I get? Harsh,” Clover smiled.

“I’ve got a lot more where that came from,” Qrow stepped forward and one hand found Clover’s hip. A hand found his waist in return and their lips met. Qrow leaned into the kiss, revelling in the heat of him, the taste of him. He could feel every inch of where their bodies met. The hunger which had been simmering in him flared bright. Finally, they parted.

Qrow noted, with a great deal of pleasure, that Mr Confidence finally seemed just a little flustered.

“Well…” Clover grinned, “We still have a patrol to finish but after that… I have a place near the eastern watch tower, maybe you’d like to come over?”

“I think I’d like that a lot,” Qrow said.

He let Clover take a few steps before he started to walk after him, watching his muscled ass jiggle.

A hellavalot.

And suddenly the rod made all too much sense.

Hook

Line

And sinker.

---xxx---

Part 2 HERE XD

#rwby spoilers #rwby 7 #fair game #clover ebi #qrow branwen #fanfiction

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canid-slashclaw · 5 years

Text

The Outliers - A Guildwars Love Story

Chapter 5

Four months had past since Kaleb's introduction into the Seraph guard. During that time, both he and his best friend Brad had distinguished themselves as fine, albeit troublesome, soldiers. Cynthia Waterstone who had been their mutual friend, commanding sergeant and (occasionally) Brad's lover, had helped the two young men excel in many facets of their military life.

Training as a warrior, Kaleb had become renown for his use of the broadsword as well as the use of short-range pistols. Brad, meanwhile, excelled at using the long bow, and as a ranger, he could also do petty well with axes.

The trio was stationed at a Lionguard base known as Kessex Haven that was located in the Kessex Hills region. Throughout their brief duration at the base, they had all seen plenty of combat; especially against the centaurs. Kaleb was busy affixing a piece of armor to his damaged pauldron when Sergeant Waterstone stepped in front of him.

"Ten hut!"

"Ma’am! I mean, sir!" Kaleb stood up as he saluted his commanding officer.

"At ease, private. How goes the repairs?"

"Armor cracked after receiving a blow from a centaur’s javelin. It’s all better now," Kaleb said as he showed her the now-repaired piece.

"Not a bad piece of work there, private. Even if I do say so myself." Cynthia saluted him then turned away.

"Thank you, sir. But I have a question..."

"Go ahead and ask." "Rumor has been floating that Seraph are prepping for a major assault on Earthworks Bluff. Is there any truth to this?" Kaleb asked as he refastened the repaired pauldron onto his armor.

"Officially, you are on a need-to-know basis. And right now, officially, you don’t need to know," Sergeant Waterstone replied.

"Then what about the antithesis of official?" "Unofficially? We may be setting up for a major assault upon the centaur main base. The reason being, our supply lines keep getting disrupted and all roads leading into our fort have become too hazardous for many merchants to travel," Cynthia said with a hint of resignation in her voice.

"So what you're saying is we are being strangulated."

"Yup, that's what's happening. Unless we find a way of neutralizing their main base of operations, our supply lines will continue to be disrupted to the point merchants will be too afraid to replenish our stores. The Lionguard are stretched thin as it is and they can only do so much to protect the roads. The rest is up to us, unfortunately."

Brad located his friends among the throng of gray armor-clad soldiers. As their gazes met, he slung his sturdy long bow over his left shoulder and began to give them a hearty wave. "Come join the party, corporal. Three's company is good company as my father used to say," Cynthia shouted as she beckoned for him to come over.

"Any luck scoring a few hits on some apples?" Kaleb asked as he shook the hand of his lifelong friend.

"One taur got it through the eye socket. Arrow didn't pierce that thick skull of his, but that beast did run off in full gallop bleating like a castrated bull," Brad said with a laugh.

"Ouch. That must bite for them being unable to wipe their own bottoms. I mean, what would happen if one of them got shot in the ass and no one was there to pull the arrow out?" Kaleb mused as he made a mock gesture of firing a bow. "Only you would think of something like that, Kal." Cynthia quipped. "Just considering sound military strategy, ma'am... I mean, sir." Shortly thereafter, the platoon captain arrived and announced the official plan in preparing for the assault. He mentioned that food stores were in dire shortage and that the only feasible supply route was via a nearby lake port town called Triskell Quay.

Captain Errol Conrad stood in front of his troops to address them. "Each of you may have heard rumors regarding the assault upon the Earthworks Bluff. I am here to confirm that those rumors are, in fact, true. Before the next sunrise tomorrow, our forces will be marshaled at the foothills of the centaur base."

The captain gazed across the rows of armor-clad troops as he continued his speech. "It is also true that our food stores are running dangerously low. We are in desperate need of grain and protein staples. About twenty miles from our base, lies at the lakeport town of Triskell Quay. Information from the locals indicates that there are a couple of meat supply stores located somewhere within the town."

"Currently, our garrison has only one serviceable supply carriage. All of the others have either been damaged or destroyed. Henceforth, what I am calling upon is for at least one qualified volunteer to commandeer said carriage, ride into town and requisition the necessary supplies."

Without hesitation, Kaleb shouted. "Then I'm you're man, sir."

"Say your name, private."

"Private Kaleb Grimwald, first infantry, sir. I'm a wagon maker by trade and can probably lift and carry more stuff in a shorter amount of time than just about any man, or woman, here."

"I can vouch for him, sir," Sergeant Cynthia Waterstone shouted as she saluted the captain.

"Me too," chimed Brad.

Shortly thereafter, several other soldiers vouched for Kaleb's abilities as well.

"Congratulations, private. It looks like you've been volunteered."

"Thank you, captain. All I need is a sturdy dolyak and a trusted comrade to tag along."

Brad whistled. "That's me! Sir!"

Several of the Seraph soldiers helped Kaleb hitch the dolyak onto the transport wagon. His friend, Brad, made sure everything was secured properly before climbing onto the riding bench.

Kaleb made some last minute checks to see if the wagon's structural integrity was secure. Captain Connor approached then beckoned for the two men to come.

"A brief word, private, corporeal. I didn't want to announce this to the rest of the troops, but there's something else you and your comrade should know."

"What would that be, sir?" Brad asked curiously.

"Just so the two of you are aware - the only meat suppliers in town who have the capability of providing enough stock for our troops are, shall we say, not human."

"Well, if they are norns then loading up a ton of meat will be a breeze," Kaleb said with a smile.

"That makes two problems, private. First - the owner is disabled. Second - both he and his offspring are charrs."

The news hit Kaleb and Brad like a load of bricks.

"Charr?! Why would their kind be living in a mostly human settlement?" Brad said in a disgusted tone.

"Dunno. Perhaps they are taking advantage of the peace treaty to expand their business. Either way, I don't want this information to become common knowledge. Is that clear?"

Both man said to their captain in unison. "Yessir!"

The captain gave a quick salute. "Good luck you two."

Kaleb then turned to Captain Connor and asked. "Sir? You mentioned about one of them being disabled. What about the other one? Are they able to do anything?"

"The other one is about your size - small by charr standards. And rumor has it that it - can't tell if its a male or female as they all look alike to me - mostly sits up in their room doing whatever it is that charr do. In other words, I wouldn't hold your breath on expecting any help from either of them. The both of you are on your own. Now, dismissed!”

With a final salute, the two lifelong friends headed out from the base as they began their journey towards the small fishing village.

***

The air that permeated Triskell Quay was rife with the odor of dead fish that emanated from the boat docks. Kaleb's nostrils had not yet acclimated to the pungent scent that was typical of all waterside communities. As the two men entered the outskirts of town, they noticed a couple of pedestrians walking by. Not being of shy disposition, Kaleb immediately took it upon himself to ask for directions.

"Excuse me. But where can I find a meat marked that's run by a couple of charr?"

"I dunno why fellas like you would be lookin' fer um, but they's place is just up the road a couple of miles due west. Look for the sign that says Blazeridge Butcher Shop & Marketplace. And if ye can't find it, just follow yer nose till ya gets a whiff of something that smells like a cross between dead cows and a smeltin' factory."

Kaleb and Brad thanked the gentleman for providing the directions then proceeded to follow the instructions they were given. When they rounded the west corner, Kaleb could detect the unmistakable smell of burning coal along with the faint stench of ripe meat.

"Holy Balthazar! Are charr really this nasty? The cistern in my uncle’s backyard smells better than this place!" Brad commented as he winced up his nose at the pungent aroma.

"You are naive, bro. All slaughterhouses have about the same foul aroma. As a matter of fact, this one smells rather pleasant compared to some of the places I've been to," Kaleb replied as he slowed the cart to a complete stop just before exiting from the right side of the seat.

"Are you comin in too?"

"Nah. I'll wait outside here and guard the cart. Besides, you’re better at the PR thing than me," Brad said with a wave.

"You just don't like charr, that's all."

Brad laughed. "Nah. I think every human should have a right to skin one."

Kaleb looked up and saw the sign that read - Blazeridge Butcher Shop & Marketplace. When he walked in, much to his surprise, his nose was greeted with a symphony of exotic herbs and spices. Once the door closed behind him, a high-pitched whistle sounded for a split second.

It must be a charr version of a doorbell, he thought as he walked towards butcher counter.

Within moments, a massive feline-looking creature greeted him. It had horns jutting out from either side of its head just above its eyes and its face was caged with rows of menacing dagger-like teeth. The large paw-like hands sported massive claws and its fur was a tiger stripe pattern of umber and dark orange strip patterns.

"Something I can help you with?" Came the creature's deep and almost thundering voice.

Kaleb promptly saluted him then pulled out a series of documents from under his breastplate. "Private Grimwald of the Thirty-First Seraph Platoon, sir. I am here on behalf of the Queen's army to requisition a supply of protein products from your establishment, sir."

Ludrick grumbled for a moment then promptly snatched the paperwork from the jaded human's hand. He quickly looked over the documents while muttering a string of incoherent words to himself.

"Everything seems in order. But what makes the Queen assume that we even have enough product to supply an army of your size? Look around you, human. I sell to the locals. My supply chain doesn't accommodate masses of marching mice," the charr grumbled as he handed back the paperwork.

"Well. I'll remember to say that the next time I'm enjoying a few brews with my friends. Just repeat after me - masses of marching mice. Masses of marching mice. Masses of marching..."

"Gah! It's got to be something in the air around this village. It seems to make everyone around here behave like obnoxious morons."

Kaleb bit his tongue. "Oh. Sorry Mr. Charr, sir. The heat has made me a bit loopy. Plus I've never met one of your kind before. I just tend to say stupid things when I'm nervous."

"The best thing you can say to me right now, human, is 'what can I buy' or 'I'll take x amount of product y'. If those aren't the two phrases coming out of your mouth then I suggest you get out of my shop."

"Hey. I'm just here on the Queen's orders. No need to bite the head off the messenger, kind sir. But I had heard things through the asura gate that yours is the best meat supply market around. My soldiers are in need of food badly and what better way of fostering a sense of good will between our people than to make a noble contribution to mutual corporation," Kaleb said with a smile.

"You're damn right. Mine is the best market around! Now, are you going to reciprocate that 'good will' and buy something from me today? Look around you, it will take days for me to carve up enough cattle to supply your damn army." Ludrick looked away for a moment before glancing back at the rather bulky-looking human.

"Well, if you must insist. I would very much be interested in those briskets over there. But first - I would very much like to inquire about those oh-so savory spices I've been smelling since I walked through the door."

"Not my expertise. But hold on..."

"Amalthia! Customer interested in the spices."

Kaleb stepped back for a moment trying to locate the origin of the fragrant aromas. As he walked towards the nook of spices on display, he heard an echo of footsteps coming down the spiral staircase. He turned his head to see a slender charr not much bigger than him, padding gracefully down the bare metal steps.

Her pelt had an orange yellow hue and her markings were of a tiger-striped pattern as well. Four horns framed her amber-eyed face. The two bigger horns extended from the mid-ridge of her skull and tapered off into elegant points while and two smaller ones jutted back along the length of her cheekbones.

The young man deduced right away that this charr was, in fact, a female. He had done enough history lessons to easily recognize the distinction between the two sexes.

"How may I help you?" She asked in a slightly deep, but otherwise noticeably feminine voice.

"Those spices other there caught my eye the moment I smelt them," Kaleb said in a strangely sheepish tone.

"Hmm. That's something the legions never told us about when we were at war with your people."

"What's that? If I may be so bold as to ask."

"Bold you are, then. For your people seem to become unhinged and stutter about like adolescent cubs whenever you meet one of us for the first time," Amalthia commented as she walked over towards the spice nook and pulled out a tray of some dried herbs.

"Well, I told your dad...."

"Sire." She corrected him.

"Excuse me. Ahem... 'sire', that it was my first time meeting your kind..."

"A fact that I already stated to you. Did you even listen to what I said just thirty seconds ago?"

"And do you, have a habit of always interrupting your customers before they had a chance to finish their sentences?" Kaleb quipped.

"You just did and I did not. At least that time," Amalthia retorted.

"What did I not do to you the thing you said I was supposed to have done? You lost me there."

"I think you are only confusing yourself further. What kind of spice would you be interested in?" Amalthia grumbled.

"No. You are the one who is trying to confuse me. I'll take the Siverpeak bay leaves and the Ascelon sagebrush stalks."

Amalthia plucked the chosen spices from their respective boxes then proceeded to individually wrap them with some tissue paper. As she moved, Kaleb couldn't help but study her form. He had never seen a charr up close let alone a female one.

She immediately glanced in his direction. "Is there something else you want? You can't seem to take your eyes off me."

By now, Kaleb was visibly blushing. He rarely felt embarrassed about anything, but yet there was something about this charr that he was drawn to, something he couldn't quite explain.

"You have twice as many ears as I do, yet you only seem to possess half the cognition. Didn't we make it clear earlier that when I get nervous I tend to say and do crazy, stupid things?"

"I think you must have been talking to the wrong charr. Or is it because you think that all of our kind seem to look alike... hmm?" Amalthia chided as she carried the packaged contents to the register.

Moments later, Brad popped his head through the door. "Hey, bro. What the hell is taking ya so long? Don't you realize we have a mission to complete?"

"Hold your dolyaks, Brad. I'm in the process of delicate inter-species negotiations. I'll be there once I iron out a few things."

Ludrick looked at Amalthia then Kaleb. "Still going to purchase that brisket?"

"How will I be able to get it to my base before it turns rancid?"

Amalthia reached over one of the counters then pulled out a small jar of rubbing salt. "By using this. Don't worry, it won't leave an aftertaste like so many other salts do."

After the meat was treated and wrapped, Amalthia handed him the salted brisket as she rang up the final sale.

"Thirty silver even."

"Thanks for the stuff. And thank you, Amalthia, for being such an interesting... person. See ya later," Kaleb smiled as he turned to head out.

"Two rules to follow the next time you come here. First - we are not on a first-name basis. Second - I'm not a person... like you. Got it?" Amalthia said as she gave the impetuous human a clawed thumbs up.

Kaleb gave a wink and a thumbs up in response. "Forever and always."

Brad looked over as Kaleb stepped out from the shop door. "Here ye, here ye - to all citizens of Kryta. Today the esteemed Kaleb Grimwald has single-handedly started an entire new round of negotiations with the charr. From now on humans and charr shall rub salts together and sate each others' hungers with copious amounts of meat."

"Hey. Don't knock it bud! It was a classified operation. Somebody somewhere's gotta take the first step toward world peace. Am I right?"

"If you say so, bro. If you say so..."

#gw2 fanfic #tyriaslibrary #the outliers #charr #gw2 human #kaleb and amalthia #gw2 writing

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pangtasias-atelier · 5 years

Note

Drabble: I enjoyed your headcanons so much that I would like to request a drabble for the last scene with Byleth having his way with Ashe, Caspar and Sylvain, teasing them about how fat he made them as he claims triple booty. Maybe he could convince them to feed each other too. Like, while he's doing Sylvain, maybe he can order to Ashe and Caspar to make sure he's well-fed while Byleth enters him! Just some ideas! I hope you have fun writing!

Thank you again so much for the kind words in your messages, I hope you like it!!

All smut will be tagged #risque

_______

"Archbishop," His title called, Byleth turns around. Strained smile a bit too wide as his eyes close a bit too much, he lets out a small huff through his nose as the poor guard flinches. Releasing the tension in his shoulder and neck, Byleth clasps his hands in front of him. The sun already setting, the day had already dragged on for far too long. Pent up frustration that he was desperate to get rid of, the perfect solution to it in his room the form of three hungry, horny fatties, Byleth wished for nothing but to return to his room, but it seemed that was too grand a wish.

"An argument has broken out between the older recruits and the ones joining after the war. Some are afraid that-"

"I'll check on it," Business before pleasure, Byleth sets out, his pace nearly a sprint.

The situation resolved with both parties embarrassed from the Archbishop himself intervening, Byleth doesn't even make it halfway back to his room as something else happens.

One thing after another, Byleth ends up running around the entire monastery, something always requiring his attention. Trudging back to his room, or what he can consider trudging, his posture still perfectly straight and gait well practiced, he still looks perfectly fine. The only difference being in his barely noticeable slower manner of walking, Byleth doesn't care, absolutely exhausted.

Fearful that the next step will yield some other guard or priest or professor or anybody, needing his assistance, the door in his vision feels like a dream come true. Each step one step closer to his dream, he feels ready to faint as the door ends up right in front of his face.

Shaking as he reaches for his doorknob, his hands clench around it. No voice, no noise, no work, Byleth smiles at being free. Opening it, he quickly shuts it behind him, the door swiftly locked.

Safe in his room, Byleth relaxes against the door. Stretching, he sighs as his bones crack and pop; the tiredness from work immediately washes away from no longer being in the mindset.

His abrupt nature causing a stir in the three lying figures, Byleth immediately gets to work. Neck piece and cape thrown off to the ground with zero disregard, Byleth's chest rises and falls with each breath as he sees them wake up.

Them being Caspar, Ashe, and Sylvain, the mega chunky trio rise from their nap. With nothing to do but eat and sleep in Byleth's room, their sense of time is all messed up. Working all day while they laze and graze, Byleth feels a touch of anger mix in with his lust. Their pale blubbery forms jiggling as they move to get up, he watches them. Clothes unnecessary for them as they just get in the way, Byleth licks his lips.

Caspar the first to get into a seated position, he pants as he rubs his stomach, the ball of flesh enveloping his thighs. A naked, hard Byleth in front of him, Caspar opens his mouth.

Byleth laughs, grinning cruelly down at Caspar. "Knees, turn around," Snapping his fingers to rush him, Caspar struggles to go with the fast pace Byleth wants.

Sylvain barely able to get up, he begins to do the same. Ashe just remains seated as he blushes. "Not you two. Stay," Byleth glares at them, both of them remaining still.

Caspar's ass in front of his dick, Caspar struggling to remain on all fours as his stomach rests across the floor. "Good boy," Patting Caspar's stomach, grabbing and squeezing it, Byleth eases inside of Caspar. Caspar leaning into Byleth, he huffs as Byleth rubs his ass.

The day's work still on the back of his mind, Byleth slams into Caspar. Losing balance, Caspar's hands slip, ending up on his face and breasts. Porking Caspar, Byleth huffs as his hand roam his stomach, pinching and shaking each fold.

Sylvain and Ashe staring, their own faces red as the watch, Ashe stays still. Sylvain inches his way closer, grinning.

"Stop or no food later," Byleth duly offers, focused on Caspar's ass. Sylvain obeying, Byleth smiles. "You two, feed him," Sylvain thinking it a trap, remains still, Ashe grabs a plate, the cookies entering Caspar's mouth. Moans silences with food, Caspar babbles on the food. "Go ahead," Byleth smiles at Sylvain. Ashe not punished, he takes this as his chance. Ashe feeding Caspar, Sylvain massages his breasts, kneading them as he kisses them, a trail of kisses leading to Caspar's face.

Caspar sways back and forth with each time Byleth humps him. "So fat. All you do is eat and eat," Struggling, Byleth barely lifts Caspar's ass off the ground, panting from the exertion. "So much for all that training to get bigger. You'll never be that skinny again," Caspar's jiggling body slowing down alerts the other two to the end, Byleth groaning as he cums inside Caspar's ass, a trickle of seed exiting.

Pulling out, Byleth huffs as he gasps for air. Dick still uncomfortably hard and pent up, he calls for Ashe and Sylvain to come closer. Both waddle over, their stomachs swaying.

Sylvain standing alert, his stomach sags as he plays with it, teasing and hefting it, he frowns as Byleth calls Ashe next. Complaint rising in his throat, he cowers as Byleth glares at him.

"So nice and soft," Smushing Ashe's cheeks, tugging them and Ashe moans, his right eye closed, Byleth leans down and kisses him. "So obedient," He coos, handing a chocolate to Ashe, the sweet confection laced with herbs specifically causing Ashe to be the way he is, fat and docile. "Lean down for me," Ashe nods his head, cheeks squishing as he slowly shuffles to the floor. On all fours, Ashe doesn't even last a minute, his arms and legs giving out. Rubbing his ass, Byleth places on hand on each cheek. Spreading them apart, he sinks his face inside Ashe's blubbery asshole.

Tongue pricking his ass, Ashe moans as his hands dig into the floor. So much pressing his face, Byleth spreads his knees, spreading Ashe's in the process. A bit more leverage, he comes back up for air before going back inside. Hand reaching underneath Ashe's stomachs, he struggles before his hand wraps around Ashe's dick. A quick handy at the same time, Byleth comes back up as Ashe cums all over his hand. Wiping his hand over Ashe's stomach, he calls over Sylvain, the greedy beast happily rushing as fast as a waddle lets him.

"Knees," Both hands digging into Sylvain's hair, he pushes him down onto the floor. Shoving his dick inside Sylvain's mouth, Byleth tugs at his hair as Sylvain blows him. Ashe and Caspar getting closer, Byleth snaps at them. "No," He jerks as he slams into Sylvain's warm cavernous mouth, his balls slapping into his numerous chins. "touching. Feed each other,"

No protests at the second command, they grab food from their cart, the two parking their fat asses down on the floor, their fat stomachs smushing together as they handfeed the other.

Byleth refocusing his attention to Sylvain, he smiles from Sylvain's little hmmphs and groans. Claiming no favorite, Byleth did indeed have one. While it was barely by a whisker and changed at times depending on his mood, he had to admit that it was Sylvain he loves to bully around. Sylvain so hungry and horny, his desperation at being denied only makes him want to do it more.

A lesson for his disobedience, Byleth lets go of Sylvain's hair, fucking his mouth instead. "Look at you, always wanting food or sex," You're actually an heir to a house," Nearly knocking Sylvain over, Byleth grins at his idea. "But you're too busy stuffing your fat face. I'll feed you well; always lapping up my cum" Fucking Sylvain's mouth, he shoves him back as he pulls out. Sylvain falling onto his back, like a disoriented turtle, he struggles. Byleth sits on Sylvain's stomach, finishing himself by masterbating. A couple of strokes, Byleth cums quickly. Instead of cumming in his mouth, he cums all over his face, Sylvain leaving his mouth open. Few of it actually going in his mouth, Sylvain whines.

"Too bad, no more eating for you. You'll probably break the floor at this rate,"

Sylvain glances at the floor, huffing as he scoops the cum on his face. "I don't care," he whispers, struggling to get up. Byleth suddenly by his face, Sylvain looks up at Byleth's dark look.

"Just what I wanted to hear. I'm sure they don't mind either," Byleth gestures at Ashe and Caspar, the two still feeding each other. Byleth jumping on Sylvain, he grabs more food as he strokes his hair with his free hand. "Just eat. Not like you can do much else," Byleth laughs as Sylvain eagerly chews.

Perhaps he might have used to much herbs, but at this point, he couldn't care less.

#my writing #risque #fat!sylvain #fat!ashe #fat!caspar #fat!threehouses #fat emblem

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noneya-business-me · 6 years

Text

Overdose

Pairing: Kirishima/Bakugou low-key

Summary: Even though Bakugou’s body is used to having nitroglycerin in it, if he over uses his quirk it could have some bad side effects..

Angst but with a happy ending

“Today for combat training we’ll be pushing your quirk limits again.” Aizawa stated, “just like we did at the training camp.”

The class looked uneasily at each other, but nodded in affirmation.

“We have everything set up for each of your individual needs.” Toshinori added, “and we’ll be going around to see each of your progress.”

“Now everyone get to your stations.” Aizawa finished, getting a unanimous agreement from the students who ran off to their spots.

Bakugou was set far apart then the other students as his blasts grew bigger and bigger. By the time the two teachers made their way over to the blonde the heat from his blasts could reach the other students. His arms quivered as he continuously raised them into the air and plunged them back down. Aizawa looked down at his watch, before blowing a whistle to signal the end of the exercise. “Everyone gather back to me!” He yelled out, grabbing everyones exhausted attention.

Most of them stumbled back and crowded around the two. Kirishima glanced around noticing that Bakugou was still standing over by his barrel, staring into it.

“Bakugou, come on man. Aizawa wants us over there.” He said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” He slurred, looking at him slowly, “you need to go fight the tail guy.”

He dipped his fingers back into the water. “and I have to do this.”

He sucking in wheezing breaths, as he wiggled his fingertips in the water. “Dude, are you okay?” Kirishima asked softly, placing a hand on his forehead, “you really don’t look good.”

“Kirishima! Bakugou! I said everyone!” Aizawa yelled.

Bakugou’s eyes pinched closed as he winced. “So loud.” He whined, “my head hurts.”

“I’m going to take you to recovery girl.” Kirishima replied, wrapping his arm around his waist to support him.

“Mr. Aizawa! We need to take Bakugou to recovery girl! I think he’s sick.” Kirishima called out, spurring both the teachers to come to them.

“What’s going on?” Toshinori asked, placing a hand on the other blondes forehead.

Kirishima tried to take a step forward towards the teachers as Bakugou stumbled over his own feet and leaned heavily on the other.

“Sit him down on the ground.” Aizawa said, pulling out his cell phone, “we’ll get recovery girl to come to us. He’s in no shape to make the trip.”

Kirishima obeyed quickly and sat him down on the ground with his back supported by one of the boulders around the training area. Almost immediately he made a raspy while, followed by a wet gag. “Lean him forward!” Toshinori shouted.

Kirishima’s arms shot out and grabbed Bakugou’s shoulders and leaning him forward as he vomited down the front of his own shirt and into his lap. “Are you okay?” Kirishima asked him frantically.

“Why aren’t you training?” Bakugou asked again.

“We’re finished training Bakugou!” Kirishima replied, noticing the coldness of his skin where he was touching him. His eyes widened as he really looked over him.

“Mr.Aizawa he needs to go to the hospital!” Kirishima yelled, “His lips are turning blue, his fingers too.”

“Kiri, something is wrong.” Bakugou said, just as his eyes rolled back in his head and his fingers began to twitch.

Toshinori quickly moved him out of the way, and laid Bakugou on his side on the ground. “It ’s a good thing he’s not in his hero costume.” He mumbled as he moved rocks out of the way of his head.

The twitching in his hands moved up through his body as he started convulsing. “Ambulance is on the way.” Aizawa stated, as recovery girl ushered the other students away before returning to them. “What’s happening to him?!” Kirishima yelled hysterically, “Why is he having a seizure?!”

“We’ll know when the paramedics get here.” Aizawa replied.

All at once the shaking stopped and he fell still. His body heaved once more vomiting on the ground next to him. The blonde whimpered quietly as a tear fell down his face. Kirishima moved forward and carefully moved him away from the puddle, listening for the sirens coming closer. He grasped his hand tightly receiving a weak squeeze back. “Kirishima I need you to go with the other students.” Aizawa stated.

“I can’t leave him.” Kirishima growled in reply.

“We have things covered from here.” Recovery girl added.

“I don’t care.” He snarled, surprising them all, “I’m not leaving.”

“I’m going to lead the paramedics in when they get here.” Toshinori stated, hearing the sirens getting closer.

I wasn’t long until he returned with the paramedics and a gurney in tow. “I need you to move out of the way.” One of the paramedics said urgently to Kirishima as he swivelled out of the way still holding the others hand.

They loaded him up quickly, wheeling him towards the doors quickly right past the terrified faces of the class. “I need you to let go, so we can take him.” The other paramedic stated.

“No,” Bakugou cried weakly, “Kiri, what’s happening?”

Tears tracked down his face, around the mask that was temporarily supplying him oxygen to aid his shallow breathing. His eyes moved around erratically, tracking anything that moved. The paramedic stared at him a moment before she jerked her head towards the back on the ambulance, signalling the red head to get in the back. “You can answer my questions about him.” She said, quickly hooking up an IV to Bakugou’s arm.

She slammed the doors shut after informing Aizawa. Her partner turned the sirens back on a sped towards the hospital. “I need his name, age, birthday, and quirk.” She started, holding her radio up to her face.

“Bakugou Katsuki, 16, April 20th, and explosions.” He repeated back quickly.

“How does the quirk work?” She asked, after repeating the information into her radio.

“He sweats nitroglycerin into his hands and ignites it.” He replied.

Her eyes widened as she repeated the information back into the radio again. “One minute to arrival!” Her partner yelled from the front.

“What’s your name kid?” She asked, grabbing his attention again.

“Kirishima.” He replied, his voice shaking.

“When we get into the emergency room there will be doctors everywhere.” She stated, “you need to make sure to be aware of everything and to stay out of the Doctors way. Bakugou doesn’t seem like he wants to let go of you so you’ll be fine.”

He nodded along with her. “But you need to listen to them and do whatever they say, okay?”

He nodded again his lip quivering. He squeezed Bakugou’s hand again, which he squeezed back even though he was unaware of his surroundings.

As soon as the vehicle came to a stop and the doors were yanked open they were running and stopping in a bright white room. “-name’s Kirishima.” He heard as Doctors flew around the still blonde.

“Kirishima. My name is Doctor Kotobuki.” The female doctors said to him.

She motioned to the male doctor grabbing supplies. “That’s Doctor Hosaka.” She have him a gentle smile as she set to work. “Do you want to talk to Bakugou? To make sure he stays calm?”

He nodded as he kneeled next to him. “You’re going to be alright Blasty.” He whispered to him, “they’re going to find out what’s wrong and you’re going to be fine.”

Bakugou stared at him and nodded tiredly. His breath wheezed as he took more shallow breath as his eyes fluttered shut. “Bakugou.” Kirishima whispered, “you have to stay awake. Please.”

His eyes fluttered again as he stared blankly at the other, before his eyes rolled as he started to convulse again. The doctors stepped back as they waited for the shaking to cease. “Is your hand okay?” Dr. Hosaka asked as they noticed Kirishima’s pained expression.

“I’m fine.” He replied.

The shaking finally stopped, and the doctors picked up right where they left off. “Breathings stopped.” One of the nurses called out.

“Intubate him.” Dr. kotobuki ordered, checking the inside of his mouth, “he’s not able to breath on his own.”

“Kirishima, you said his quick allows him to sweat nitroglycerin?” She asked.

He nodded, “during training his blasts were getting really big and he was sweating a lot.” He replied nervously as a different doctor pushed a tube down his throat attached to a ventilator and taped it to the side of his mouth.

“I need you to get activated charcoal.” She ordered a nurse, “bandages and oral medication.”

“We can’t do gastric lavage because he didn’t technically ingest any nitroglycerin.” She said turning to Dr. Hosaka, “if we do activated charcoal we can make sure his body doesn’t absorb so much excess.”

He nodded, grabbing a thinner tube from the medical cart. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Kirishima asked hesitantly, “is he going to be okay?”

Dr. Kotobuki nodded with a smile. “We think he’s had a nitroglycerin overdose by his symptoms and from what you’ve told us.” She replied, “you helped him out a lot today. I think he’s going to be fine.”

The nurse from before came back with boxes cradled in her arms. “Is the nasogastric tube ready?” She asked Dr. Hosaka.

“Yes, we can administer the oral medication.” He replied.

Dr. Hosaka and the nurse moved at the same time. Bandaging and injecting the medication through the nose tube.

Soon they were wheeling him out of the ER and into a small room. He was hooked up to several machines now. A ventilator, heart monitor, and IV. “This happened during training correct?” Dr. Kotobuki asked.

“Yeah, our teachers should be coming.” Kirishima replied.

“Right, why don’t you keep Bakugou company while I go find your teachers.” She stated a smile, “they probably want to know what’s going on as well.”

Kirishima nodded with a smile. “Thank you for helping him.”

She nodded back and exited the room. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “Thank god you’re okay.” He sighed resting his head against the bed sheet.

It was unnerving how still the blonde was, and quiet for that matter. His face wasn’t pinched up in anger like usual, but relaxed and almost ethereal. “You really scared me today.” He sighed closing his eyes.

—

“How long do you think he’s going to stay unconscious?” Kirshima asked as soon as Dr. Kotobuki and Dr. Hosaka returned to the room with the teachers. Both their eyes widened as they stared at the blondes condition.

“It shouldn’t be long at all.” Dr. Hosaka replied, “I think at the most probably later tonight.”

“The extra nitroglycerin is already getting expelled by the medication and absorbed by the bandages.” Dr. Kotobuki explained as she walked closer and put a hand on his forehead, “she how the colour is already returning to his face?”

Kirishima nodded excitedly with a wobbly smile as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“As soon as he wakes up we can get the tubes out and make sure there’s nothing else wrong with him.” She smiled.

As if on cue, Bakugou’s hand shifted bumping into Kirishima’s who snatched his hand up right away. His eyes opened slowly, and glanced around the room until his eyes landed on Kirishima. The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly as he blinked tiredly.

“I got you,” Kirishima whispered, bringing Bakugou’s hand up to his face and holding it against his forehead in relief, “I got you.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #angst #happy ending #training #hospital #overdose #nitroglycerin #quirk accident #kiribaku

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minerva26love · 5 years

Text

Just Say His Name Part 1

So this happened to me now for a third time, you think i would have learned my lesson. I wrote a whole lot of this story and the draft didnt save so now i must write this all over again. I may make this 3 parts im not sure yet. If you enjoyed my story please like and reblog!!! This is based off of an old english myth!

Warning: Some language, Smut will be coming soon, some mention of Domestic Violence but very small. If alot of people like this story i will keep writing! I wanted to see how this one turned out.

The vibrations of the train were making my eyes close even more. It has been a long ride and i have almost made it to London. Its about a two and a half hour long train ride. It was just me and Rory my cat on this journey. I am coming from Paris, i went to school there and lived with my family. A couple of days ago my parents got an letter saying that they had an urgent meeting with some Aurors downtown. After said meeting they were told they needed to go on a trip with more Aurors out of the country. I was of course not able to attend. My mother was talking to my Aunt on the phone, my cousin Lilly attends Hogwarts. They were very excited and offered for me to stay with them while they were away. This is unfortunately a two year mission. Going in my bag i looked back at my ticket to remind myself where i am going so i dont miss my stop. Kings Cross Station Platform 9 and 3 Quarters. I sigh as i lean my head on the window.

“Kings Cross Station next! ETA 5 minutes.” The train conductor yells as he goes through the train cars. I take a glance at Rory who is sleeping next to me.

“Well Rory it looks like we arent in Paris anymore.” It is our third year LIlly and i, I am very excited about the next two years but also very excited. The train comes to a halt and the Whistle blows. I gather everything and Rory. The train conductor puts my luggage on my cart and tips his hat. He leaves me alone and surrounded by people. Lots of people hurrying to catch their trains, whistles blowing and lots of carts. Frantically,i start looking for Lilly or my Aunt.

“(Y,N)!” Sighing in relief i turn around to see my Aunt, Uncle and Lilly standing with a sign that says Welcome to London. I push my cart towards them and run to give them all a hug. “Its so nice to see you dear!” My Uncle takes my cart and they lead me to the car.

“Its so nice to see you all too!”We all get to the car and start driving to their house. “Thank you again for taking me in, mum and dad really appreciate it.”

“Of course! We are all very excited!”

“My friends are also very excited to meet you. They are the ones i take to you on the phone about,”

“Ah, yes Peter, Sirius, Remus and oh yeah how could i forget James.” Her parents laugh. Lilly blushes. The Car takes a turn on the next street. In the Yard you see 4 boys and a girl hanging out in the yard. I was assuming they were waiting for Lilly to get home. The car turned into long driveway and we all exited the car. A kind of tall boy with glass ran to Lilly and gave her a hug,

“Lilly pop how are you my darling?” Her face turns red with embarrassment.

“Ah, you must be James.” He smiles and shakes my hand. The rest of the group caught up with James, they all hugged Lilly.

“(Y/N), this is James, Peter, Sirius, Alice and Remus.” I wave

“Its so nice to meet all of you, Lilly has told me so much about you all. More about James than anyone.” James high fives Sirius meanwhile Lilly punches me on the arm. “Ow, asshole.” My Uncle gets my bags as we walk up the driveway. Her house was lovely, all brick house with a wrap around porch. Inside was just as grand as the outside. When walking inside there is a formal sitting area and formal dinning room. I followed everyone to the main living room area. It was a very large space and the kitchen was in it as well. “Lilly what is that amazing smell?”

“That my dear is my famous Chocolate Chip Cookies. Im reheating them for you all. Lilly why dont you go show (Y,N) her new room. The reset of you may go outside and play Quidditch-”

“Yes!” Sirius and James cheered.

“Without breaking anything please.” The group left to go to the backyard, Remus was the last to leave, he looked at me softly before heading out back. After he left i had the weirdest feeling i have never felt before. I barely knew this boy yet i longed for him to come back. I was drawn to him. I shook it off and headed upstairs to my new room. The room was nice, it had light blue walls, and a fluffy white rug in the middle of the room. I had a bed, desk, and bookshelf. I hugged Lilly. She was surprised at first then hugged me back. She understood that this was really hard for me not being with my parents. I was still waiting for an owl to come to let me know they made it ok. My cat Rory seemed to bed doing ok as well. Sleeping in a tall cat tree right by the window so he can watch the cars drive by. We went back downstairs and walked to the back porch. Lilly ran up to the group excited to play.

“Come on Remus how many times have you read that book?” Sirius yelled

“This happens to be my favorite book, and at least i can read better than you.” Remus smirked

“At least i can read better.” Sirius mocked.

I was never a fan of sports and i have never played Quidditch. I was standing near a table and chairs on the porch where Remus was sitting. I took a glance without him noticing at the book he was reading.

“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further.-” i quoted

“ There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” Remus finished the quote. “Thats right.” He smiles up at me. He gestures me to sit down. When i sit by him i feel heavy, Im so drawn to him. “Im assuming you read, and you have great taste in books.” I smile and push a piece of hair behind my ear but it falls again. This time Remus puts it behind my ear and it stays in place. All i think when i look at him is just how bad i want to jump him. “(Y/N)? You ok?” I zone back in.

“Yeah sorry, what were you saying.” He laughed and continued.

“Whats your favorite book.?” I bit my lip to think, I have never really had an absolute favorite.

“Well your holding one of them and Pride and Prejudice.”

“Thats not a bad book either. What else do you like to do for fun?” I bit my lip again, i have no idea who this boy is and yet im so nervous around him. “Did you notice that you bit your lip when you are thinking.” I blush in embarrassment. Before i was going to say something he interrupted. “I think its adorable.” Im sure my face was super red now.

“Hey (Y,N) Do you want to- why is your face so read?�� Remus chuckles as he leans back and continues his book. I look towards him, he winks at me then continues to read.

“Its just hot out here. I am not a huge fan of sports but i will for sure watch,” Lilly shrugged and went to go play. The picked teams, they were now up in the air playing. Sirius had the ball the passed it to James. James threw it in the hoop but the ball landed near one of Lilly’s moms flower pots. The pot went into many different pieces. Everyone in the air and on ground were silent.

“Please Merlin she didnt hear.”

“James and Sirius!” My Aunt yells.

“We will go clean it up.” Everyone laughs,

“Is there a time when they dont break something?”

“Almost every time they break something dear, however this time it was just a flower pot and not our window.” My Aunt explained as she put the cookies on the table. “Last time they broke my window and James’s parents payed for a new one. Ive never seen James so terrified, Remus had the pleasure of watching that one unfold.” Remus chuckled and shook his head.

“What did Sirius’s parents say.” She paused as she placed a pitcher of Lemonade on the table. “Ok we dont talk about his parents, got it.”

“Mrs. Evans is not of fan of his parents. Sirius hasnt been back home since the summer going into his second year. James’s family took him in.” I looked over at Sirius with a sad look. He was pushing James to the ground laughing. He looked so happy though. Coming from a horrible household you think he would be an asshole. “I know what your thinking, he is upset about his family but at the same time he found a better family here. Hes a nice boy.” Remus looked back up at her. She got the hint, winked and went inside.

“That was an interesting look you gave her.” He smirked

“I just dont think hes your type.” I raised my eyebrow at him. This boy dont even know me. But whats weird is that hes right.

“Oh really well whats my type?”

“You date nice boys, well you started dating a type like Sirius but it didnt go well. Now you arent really looking right now nervous how the next boy will be.” He was right but it brought back memories i didnt need. I stood up, went inside and slammed the porch door. Aunt tried to stop me but i was already half way up the stairs. I think Remus means well but what he doesnt know is my last relationship ended with me in the hospital and being a werewolf for the rest of my life.

@thenaturaldisaster@th3maraud3rsmap @rougerazors @rainandhotchocolate

#remus x reader #werewolf #remus x reader smut #smut #marauders era

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vestsfriends · 5 years

Text

Divided But United (an Andi Mack HP AU Fanfic) Chapter 2: “Farewells”

Pairings: Jonah Beck/Cyrus Goodman, Andi Mack/Walker Brodsky, Buffy Driscoll/Marty, Amber Kippen/Iris, Reed/Kira, and many more to come.

Characters: Andi Mack, Jonah Beck, Cyrus Goodman, Buffy Driscoll, TJ Kippen, Amber Kippen, Walker Brodsky, CeCe Mack, Bex Mack, Bowie Quinn, Pat Driscoll, Iris, Reed, Lester, Kira, Kaitlin, Kip, Natalie, Gus, Leo, Libby, Dr. Metcalf, Coach Rez, Mr Coleman, and many original characters.

Word Count: 1,887 (for this chapter only)

Note: if you want to be apart of the tag list, please let me know :)

First item, check. Second, double check. Third, triple check...

Jonah scanned his finger down the parchment in his hand for what felt like the thousandth time. He had barely slept the night prior, Jonah was much too excited to sleep. The brown-haired boy was seated on his bedroom floor near his window, impatiently waiting for the sun to appear in the horizon.

Jonah yawned and stretched out his legs in front of him. He glanced down at the green-spotted pajamas he was wearing, smiling silently to himself.

In just a few hours, he would be catching a ride on the Hogwarts Express. No matter how many times he repeated those exact words in his head, Jonah could still hardly believe it. Hopefully everything would go according to how he planned.

He was soon going to the school of his dreams, Jonah would finally find his place in the Wizarding World. Ever since he was a young boy, he had been counting the days up until he would enter the grounds of Hogwarts. And now, it was finally here.

The brown-haired boy hugged his sides in excitement and peered over at his sleek wand resting on his bed, remembering the embarrassing events that lead up to attaining it. Jonah blushed at the memory of the attractive dark-haired boy, Cyrus, and how he had utterly embarrassed himself right in front of him. Yet, even though things hadn’t been too smooth at first, he hoped he could see him again.

Before Jonah knew it, his thoughts were slowly slipping away into the depths of his mind, his head gradually propping up against the wall of his bedroom as he fell into a deep slumber.

•

A couple hours later when the sun was rising up in the sky, Jay, the human alarm clock, was hurrying from the bathroom to wake up his brother. He tore open the door and sped straight up to Jonah, shaking him from side to side. He was causing such a ruckus that their parents could hear from down the stairs.

“Get up sleepyhead! Wake up! Today’s the big day!” He proceeded to yell at Jonah, who had not stirred.

“You’re going to be late!”

With those last words, Jonah’s green eyes shot wide open, leaping to his feet while almost knocking his younger brother off the bed.

“Ack! Sorry Jay!” Jonah apologized repeatedly at his annoyed brother who now sat at the edge of his bed. “But I need to get ready.”

And with that, Jonah pushed his brother out of the room and locked the door, quickly turning his attention to the completed Hogwarts supply list sitting lopsided on the floor. He snatched it immediately, along with his wand, the textbooks he had bought for school, his suitcase, and his owl’s cage. Jonah heaved, his arms struggling to carry everything, and trudged to the door. Only then did he catch a look of himself in his mirror whilst exiting his room.

“Shit.” Jonah cursed under his breath. He looked himself over in the mirror.

Low and behold, he was still wearing his green-spotted pajamas. Jonah mentally slapped himself in the face as he cast aside all of his items back onto the ground.

Jonah raced to open his closet and grabbed the nearest outfit he could find, seeing as he was already off-schedule. He threw on some black robes with a white shirt underneath, along with a loosely fastened green tie around the collar.

The green-eyed boy scrambled back to his things and pulled the door shut. He hurried down the creaky stairs, his suitcase thumping loudly on the wood.

When he arrived at the bottom of the staircase, Jonah inhaled deeply, trying to calm his beating heart. He momentarily dropped his things onto the floor so he could properly greet his parents who were staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“Jonah, sweetie?” His mother asked, standing up from her chair. “I heard quite a bit of banging coming from your bedroom. Are you prepared to leave?” She gestured towards the door.

Jonah let out a small chuckle. “Yeah. I’m ready to go now.” He grinned happily.

•

Similar to the Beck family’s trip to Diagon Alley the day prior, they were again swarmed by other witches and wizards along with the addition of many muggles as well. In the midst of chaos, Jonah pushed his heavy cart of items through the herd of people while he gazed down at his train ticket, hardly able to keep his eyes off its golden writing. He searched the signs above for platforms nine and ten, knowing well that the portal to platform nine and three quarters was hidden in between them.

Walking closely behind Jonah was his proud parents and brother who were beyond excited (and nervous) for him to move on to the next milestone in his life. His mother and father held back happy tears as they walked alongside each other.

Unfortunately, during a few moments where Jonah had accidentally been keeping his eyes on his train ticket for longer than he should have, he bumped right into a stranger in front of him, sending a few of his textbooks flying out of his cart and crashing onto the ground.

Jonah jolted his head up immediately. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” He held his hands up apologetically. “I didn’t mean to-“ Jonah made eye contact with the stranger, and his good communication skills quickly vanished into thin air.

“Well, I didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon Jonah,” remarked Cyrus, the attractive dark-haired boy from Ollivanders, with a big smile gleaming on his face.

Jonah’s mind eventually registered that the boy was speaking to him. He blinked away his initial shock and returned a grin. “What a weird coincidence,” Jonah replied softly as he reached down to pick up his textbooks off the ground.

“Is that your family over there?” Cyrus pointed to Jonah’s parents and brother who were standing a few feet back. They had been watching the two boys carefully, sharing knowing looks among the three of them. Cyrus waved at them kindly.

Jonah nodded hesitantly. “Sadly, yeah.” He let out a sigh. “Anyway, I was just heading over to the train platform before I crashed into you.”

Cyrus giggled at him. “Did you want to join me then?” He held out a hand to Jonah. “I know a shortcut. You don’t need to go the long way. I can navigate through the crowd pretty well.”

Jonah looked at Cyrus’ extended hand then back up to his face. Jonah could see a ray of sunshine shining brightly on Cyrus’ face, all of his features standing out more clearly. It seemed as if the wind was blowing through Cyrus’ thick strands of dark hair, making the whole experience feel like a dream. Every aspect of it seemed like the universe was telling him to say yes. Jonah beamed and willingly grasped his friend’s hand. Cyrus’ fingers laced around Jonah’s palm, the warm feeling bringing heat to his cheeks.

Jonah broke the silence. “You promise you won’t take me to the wrong platform? I don’t want to smash my head into a brick wall.” Jonah explained, sweat beads forming on his forehead.

“Of course I won’t. Why would I do that?” Cyrus laughed. “Wouldn’t want to hurt that pretty face of yours.” The dark-haired boy winked.

Jonah’s cheeks flushed darker. “Yeah uh,” Jonah gulped, brushing off Cyrus’ flirtatious comment. “I’m gonna go say goodbye to my parents, it’ll only take a sec.” He awkwardly removed his sweaty hand from Cyrus’ as he walked back to his family.

Jay raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Soo, was that the boy who called you cute yesterday?”

Jonah immediately shoved a hand over the young boy’s mouth. “Shush! Not so loud! He might hear you.” Jonah couldn’t bear to embarrass himself in front of Cyrus even more than he already had.

Jay grabbed his brothers wrist and pried Jonah’s hand off his mouth, ignoring his warnings. He opened his mouth to speak before being cut off by his father.

“Hush now, Jay.” The man smiled at his youngest son. “You don’t want to ruin Jonah’s chances of having a good time at Hogwarts, do you?” He glanced down at Jay who responded with rolling his eyes.

Jonah’s mother came forwards to wrap her arms around the green-eyed boy’s head tightly. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie,” she held him close. “Tell us everything when you come home for Christmas.” The woman ruffled her son’s light brown hair.

“Don’t worry, I will.” Jonah released himself from his mother, turning away from his family. “Bye, see you guys soon!” He bid them farewell before heading back to Cyrus not too far away. Jonah’s parents waved him their goodbyes, their figures becoming smaller and more unclear to Jonah as he walked away.

“Well they seemed friendly,” Cyrus remarked. “Shall we go?” He gracefully held out a hand for the other boy to take, grinning innocently.

Jonah rolled his eyes and played along. “We shall.” With his other free hand, he pushed his cart while Cyrus guided him around the mob.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence between the boys, they arrived at the spot. Standing before them in plain sight was the signs for platforms nine and ten, Jonah’s green eyes now glancing from the two pillars to Cyrus’ proud face.

“We got here so fast,” Jonah raised an eyebrow. “How did you-”

“I told you I knew a faster way,” Cyrus cut him off. “My dad used to have a job that required constant traveling, plus my friend’s parents literally work at Hogwarts.” The dark-haired boy shrugged.

Jonah blinked. “Wait- you know people who are professors at Hogwarts?” He couldn’t believe his ears.

Cyrus let out a giggle at the other boy’s shocked expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to introduce you to them. But I personally think their kids are better,” He continued. “They’re my best friends, and I think you’ll get along pretty well with him.”

Jonah understood. “Yeah, sure. But we should probably go through the portal before we miss the train.”

“Right,” Cyrus stepped aside, letting Jonah go through first. “After you.” He gestured to the brick wall in front of them.

Jonah tightened his grip the cart, gulping down his fear before running into the portal.

When he opened his eyes, he let out a sigh of relief. The train hadn’t arrived yet.

Jonah was soon joined by Cyrus, whose face brightened with excitement. He pointed to a clutter of people, grabbed Jonah’s arm, and dragged him over.

“Hey, what are you-” Jonah began, beyond confused why Cyrus had yanked him over to a jumble of people waiting by the ticket booth for the train to arrive.

“I’m introducing you to my friends!” Cyrus exclaimed with great delight, his reaction seeming like he had won an Oscar. He motioned his hand over to two people specifically from the crowd, who’s backs were facing them.

Cyrus called to get their attention. “Hey, guys! I’m back.” He cheerfully waved to his friends.

The two people slowly turned around.

“‘Bout freaking time-” One of them snickered.

“Wait-” the two girls were now facing Cyrus and Jonah, their mouths dropped open.

“Jonah?”

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kagakusenpai · 5 years

Text

That one super silly Rika x Ashiya fanfic I regrettably wrote

You know sometimes you just get this really dumb idea? And you’re talking with your friends and you mention it and they're like ‘haha do it!’. Ya, so I did it.

I know I had some stupid fun writing this, so I hope you all enjoy it too - these events take place sometime after volume 11. Don’t worry its SFW ;)

“Dude, this storm is getting crazy, you sure Libicocco isn’t back to kidnap Chiho or something?” Urushihara asked while lazily leaning backwards from his permanent post at his computer.

“You know you shouldn’t joke about these things, remember what happened last time he showed up? Something about you ending up becoming more of a useless corpse than you usually are.” Was the snappy reply from across the room.

The windows in Room 201 of Villa Rosa Sasazuka were creaking and groaning under the immense pressure of the storm that had suddenly taken Tokyo by surprise.

“I hope Ashiya makes it back in time to make supper, I’m starving already.”

Maou checked his phone to see if Ashiya had sent him a message.

No new messages.

“Maybe we’ll have to get a MgRonalds delivery…Kawada’s gonna complain if I ask him to deliver in this weather…” Maou muttered as he stretched himself out on the floor.

“Dude, if you order delivery Ashiya’s gonna kill you. Plus, if Acies finds out she’ll make you order thirty burgers…again.”

Maou stared at the clock on the wall. 6:42pm. Deciding whether he’d rather face death in the form of starvation or Ashiya’s wrath, he let out an audible sigh.

Elsewhere in Tokyo, the Demon General Alciel was fighting his own battle. The once ferocious general who had cunningly brought his enemies to their knees without lifting a finger was currently on a battlefield he’d never experienced before. The sweat on his face was starting to form neat rivers as it slowly slipped down his forehead and onto his cheeks. Shivering from the combination of wet clothing and air conditioning in the room he stammered:

“Ms. S..S…Suzuki, I’m terribly s.s...sorry. I meant n-no offence.”

He knew he had messed up.

40 minutes ago, at Shinjuku Station.

Normally accustomed to riding the train during non-peak hours, Ashiya was quite frustrated with the hordes of businessmen that were constantly entering and exiting the train. When he finally managed to get out at Shinjuku station, he found himself being pushed and pulled along with the crowd as he tried to find the right exit.

“If I recalled correctly, Ms. Suzuki had mentioned we should meet at the ‘New South Gate’.”

Earlier that week, Ashiya had sent a message to Rika Suzuki asking if he could request her assistance in purchasing a new phone. Considering recent events, he thought it would be appropriate if he also had a mobile phone to contact Maou in case of an emergency. Rika had arranged they meet today after she got off work at six o’clock.

As Ashiya turned the final corner to reach the New South Gate, a familiar voice shouted out behind him.

“Heeeey! Ashiya over here!”

Rika grabbed Ashiya’s shoulder before he got swept further away by the crowd. Blushing ever so slightly, she pulled him aside, away from the steady streams of business men flooding through the ticket gates.

“Ah, Ms. Suzuki, I didn’t notice you there. My sincerest apologies for such an oversight”

“No, no it’s fine! I know its super busy right now so there’s no choice but to call out before I lose sight of you. Anyways let’s go before it gets any more crowded here.”

“It gets even busier than this?” A stunned Ashiya replied as he quickly followed Rika further into the station.

After a few minutes of navigation, Rika and Ashiya finally arrived at the Yamanote line platform headed towards Ueno. Ashiya had seen an advertisement for a big cellphone sale at a major retailer near Ueno station, prompting his request with Rika earlier in the week.

“It’s twelve stations from here to Ueno, so let’s see if we can snag a pair of seats. Keep your eyes peeled Ashiya!”

“Understood. I shall make amends for my previous mistake with due diligence in acquiring seats for Ms. Suzuki”

“Hey, no need to be so… oh the trains here, quick!”

Ashiya and Rika rushed over to a less crowded door on the train and hopped on. Unfortunately, not only were all the seats taken but this cart was packed with rush hour commuters. Rika and Ashiya made their way to the middle of the cart and stood face to face while holding onto the hand grips.

“Ms. Suzuki, it appears to me that most of the seats here are occupied by what seems to be…sleeping businessmen” Ashiya frowned.

“Don’t worry, they’ll end up waking up ten second before their station. It’s second nature to the veteran salarymen around here, believe it or not.”

Ashiya smiled at Rika’s casual explanation. He noticed that her work clothes were different than usual. In place of her usual purple and white vest and shirt, she was wearing a deep olive-green shirt with elegant ruffles down the middle. The red hairslide she normally wore had been replaced with an intricate blue clip with a butterfly pattern. She gave off a more mature aura, fitting of Rika’s role today as his guide, Ashiya thought to himself.

“Now Arriving at Shin-Okubo Station. The doors on the left side will open.”

Ah, eleven more to go. Ashiya realized that a fair number of people were queued to enter the train at this station.

“Ahhh, this is gonna be crazy packed! Hold on tight Ashiya.”

The doors opened, and dozens of people began to make their way into the train. Unfazed by the sudden influx of people, Ashiya held his ground against the increasing pressure from the other standing commuters trying to stuff their way into the train. Rika, on the other hand, was not faring too well but managed to stay on her feet.

The train lurched forward as it begin making its way to the next station. Suddenly…

“Ah!”

The momentum from the passengers pushed Rika off her feet into Ashiya’s chest. Being a bit short in stature, the sudden lunge forced her to let go of the hand grip and grab onto Ashiya’s chest.

“I-I’m s-sorry Ashiya.” An embarrassed Rika could barely get the words out of her mouth as she desperately tried to regain her footing.

“Not a problem Ms. Suzuki, please feel free to hold onto me until you’ve regained your footing. I do say, it’s amazing how you manage to survive these crowds every day on the ride back home. This almost feels like a new type of battlefield.” Ashiya looked down at the panicked Rika, his whiskey brown eyes gauging whether he should lend a hand.

His strong, steady gaze made Rika squirm even more. Nervously glancing downwards, she carefully fidgeted her feet around to find a position that would allow her to stand up straight and keep her balance. The train’s constant rocking offered no help with her attempts.

Another sudden turn forced her to cling onto Ashiya some more. She could smell his clothing, which had a strong smell of the softener that Ashiya frequently used. Her grip on his shirt let her feel the shape of his chest muscles. They were much more toned than she thought. His usual UNICLO wear didn’t do his body any justice, she thought. Rika allowed her mind to wander like this for a moment…she suddenly felt pangs of heat coursing through her body. She was starting to lose her composure.

“Ah what am I thiiinkiinngggg!” Rika whispered to herself.

“I think we’re almost at the next station Ms. Suzuki. I believe I have the perfect opportunity to acquire us some seats, as that gentleman beside us seems to be preparing to stand up shortly.”

Ashiya’s brief interjection brought Rika back to her senses. The adrenaline had begun to flow after her series of distracted imaginings. Luckily, they both managed to grab a pair of seats on the train at the next station.

Rika stared down at her handbag, trying to avoid all eye contact with the aloof Ashiya, who was busy gawking at the sheer number of commuters on the train.

“Now arriving at Nippori station. The doors on the right side will open. For transfers to the…”

“Two more to go! We’re almost there Ashiya”

“I’m sorry for having to put Ms. Suzuki through all this…”

“No, its my pleasure! Plus, it beats having to go home alone in these crowds, it will be a lot less busy by the time we’re done.” Rika finally mustered up the courage to look back up and smile at Ashiya. The moment her eyes met with his, she felt her chest tighten a little.

As the train began to move again, Rika noticed that all the new passengers were carrying soaking wet umbrellas. She looked out the window behind her to check the situation.

“Ashiya look! It’s absolutely pouring out there. Did you bring an umbrella?”

Outside, a large storm had begun to brew. The rain was almost pouring down sideways, meaning the wind was also blowing in full force.

“Ah, yes. I do keep a small one on my person just in case something like this does occur.” Ashiya grinned as he felt his jacket pocket to confirm he had brought his umbrella.

Rika let her mind wander for a split-second, imagining her and Ashiya sharing an umbrella and walking through a rainy Ueno park on the way to the electronic store.

“What am I thinking?? I’ve devolved into a friggin’ generic high school girl!” Rika thought to herself while biting her lip, trying to come back to reality. Her composure had already begun to crumble, even before the main event had begun. Face flushed and heart pounding she covered her face with her hands.

The sudden screeching of the train being brought to a stop brought her to reality, again.

“Attention all passengers, due to a sudden change in weather the Yamanote Line will be suspending service until further notice.” The authoritative voice on the intercom announced. “We will momentarily be stopping at Uguisudani station, all passengers are advised to disembark and seek other means of transport.”

Ashiya suddenly stood up. His back to Rika, he keenly observed the situation. It hadn’t even been a month since the previous ‘storm’ that resulted in both his and Rika’s lives being turned upside down for weeks. He tried to detect any sources of demonic or holy energy nearby, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Deducing that this weather might truly be from natural causes, he sat back down and turned towards Rika. Seeing her behaviour for the last few minutes led him to believe that she was also worried about the possibility of a demonic or angelic attack.

“It seems that we have nothing to be worried about, Ms. Suzuki. This storm seems to be one hundred percent natural, I assure you.” Ashiya gave a warm smile towards Rika, who was still recovering from self-inflicted embarrassment.

She gave a quick nod to Ashiya, unable to think of an appropriate reply. The revelations made to her in the past few weeks were sinking into her mind. Angels, demons, other worlds… it still made no sense to Rika. All that she was certain of was that the man sitting beside her, Shirou Ashiya, was currently making her feel emotions she knew all too well. Regardless of his demonic background, his white-blond hair and taut stature made her eyes stray more often than not when they were together.

The train slowly started inching forward, towards the next station: Uguisudani.

Rika thought back to the first time they had gone out shopping together. Remembering how she wished that the walls between her and Ashiya could break down, even just a little bit, made her realize how much things had and hadn’t changed since then. Learning about his past, had in a sense, widened the gap between the them. They both came from different worlds, Rika having no part to play in the epic battles of the Ente Islanders that took place. Thinking back, she missed being a naïve girl enraptured by the sight of the kind yet mysterious man that suddenly came into her life. Her train of thought was interrupted by the train’s arrival at the station.

Ashiya and Rika made their way out onto the platform along with the other passengers on the train. The rain was pouring at such an incredible speed and angle that not even the roof of the platform was able to stop them from getting completely soaked.

“Shall we go to a nearby coffee shop and wait there until this storm subsides? I wouldn’t want Ms. Suzuki to get soaked and catch a cold in this weather.” Not to mention, should Rika catch a cold, both Maou and Emi would harass him for not properly taking care of her while they were out together.

“Sure, I think I saw a sign for a small family restaurant down that street, let’s go there!” Rika exclaimed as she pointed Ashiya towards the direction she assumed the sign pointed towards.

Ashiya went to open his trusty pocket umbrella before they set out from the station. The moment he opened it and stepped outside, a large gale of wind snapped the umbrella’s top off. The force of it snapping pulled the handle out of Ashiya’s grip.

“Ah...”

He had purchased that umbrella soon after he moved into Japan with Maou. The umbrella, along with any sentimental value it had, was carried away by the wind. He’ll have to budget for a new and stronger one later.

Seizing her chance to live out the small fantasy she had on the train, Rika stepped up: “Don’t worry Ashiya I have an umbrella we can share h-”

With a short woosh~ her umbrella also slipped out of her hand and disappeared into the distance, probably chasing after Ashiya’s umbrella to keep it company.

Rika stood there, speechless. The torrents of rain were relentless, and she knew they had go somewhere quickly before they both ended up being swept along with their umbrellas in the rain. The cold was already getting to her, slowly seeping through her clothes and causing her to shiver.

“Time is of the essence Ms. Suzuki, let us go quickly!” Ashiya quickly draped his jacket over Rika’s head and placed his hand on her opposite shoulder to hold it in place.

The warmth of his hand gently grasping her shoulder made Rika’s heart begin to race, she gripped her handbag with both her hands and brought it to her chest as they began to race through the streets.

As if sensing the sudden increase in Rika’s heartbeat, the storm picked up its pace. Rika let out a small yelp as the rain battered her sides like a barrage of arrows.

“Ms. Suzuki! Please hang on for one more moment, I will get us to safety.” Ashiya, his eyes filled with raw determination, gingerly picked up Rika and sped towards the end of the street. He couldn’t let Rika stay out in the rain any longer. Looking around, he couldn’t find the family restaurant, but he spotted a nearby building with a sign indicating hourly room rentals. He recalled Urushihara telling him that these types of buildings, called ‘Net cafés’, existed as a place where one can rest for hours with various facilities, including laundry and showers, for an extended period. Prioritizing drying off, he decided this would be the most appropriate choice.

Meanwhile, the sudden princess carry that Ashiya sprang onto Rika had dealt serious mental damage. She voiced no protest as Ashiya picked her up and lifted her high up against his chest. The gears in her brain had stopped functioning long ago.

“O-ok…thank you.” Her voice was barely audible, but Ashiya could feel her cold body shivering ever so slightly.

The next couple minutes flashed by like a blur for Rika. Ashiya gently put her down on one of the soft chairs in the lobby of the building they entered before heading towards the reception. She noticed him asking a few questions before getting a set of keys and walking back over to Rika, who had begun to regain her senses. He offered out his hand to help her get up from the chair. Rika, who had already lost all sense of shame, happily obliged and took Ashiya’s hand. Its gentle embrace caused Rika’s face to feel pangs of warmth.

“It seems we are just in luck, as there was an available room for us to dry off in.” Ashiya led Rika towards the end of the hallway where their room was located.

“You’re fine paying with a hotel, Ashiya? Isn’t that expensive for you?” Was all Rika could come up with, seeing how the normally stingy Demon General just spent a large portion of money without a second thought.

“I agree, it is unfortunate to have to spend money on such short notice, but it is an emergency and Ms. Suzuki’s safety is my top priority. Besides, the rates for this Net Café is quite cheap considering the laundry services they also offered.”

Rika smiled to herself when Ashiya mentioned her name. Even though she hadn’t told him her feelings, she was always happy to find that he cared so much about her. Most men would start revealing their true nature and act overly familiar with her at this point, but Ashiya’s gentlemanly attitude even now showed that he was a true man of class.

“You mentioned laundry, but I have nothing to change into…so I don’t think I’ll be able…”

“Don’t worry Ms. Suzuki, I mentioned this to the receptionist and they said that outfits could be provided to us with the room, at a very minimal cost. I was quite impressed, but unsure what they meant when they asked the theme of the outfits. I requested we receive the most normal set, so long as they fit us both.”

They arrived at the end of the hallway, Ashiya fumbling with the keys for a moment before managing to insert it correctly into the lock. Still latched onto Ashiya’s hand, Rika timidly followed Ashiya into the room, trying to asses her current situation. She looked around the room for a moment before realizing something…very shameful. The once broken gears in Rika’s mind started spinning in full reverse. She could feel her pulse pounding in her forehead as her eyes darted around the room. Ah, no this can’t be.

Ashiya had yet to turn around and piece together the look of horror that had begun to develop on Rika’s face. He was genuinely intrigued with the colorful layout of the room. Urushihara’s explanation of a Net Café did not mention the spacious and extravagant room he was currently in. A small basket was neatly placed on the bed, beside a couple of clean bath towels. He stepped forward to see what its contents were. He found a colorful assortment of round mints wrapped in neat foil packaging.

Picking one up, he turned around to offer it to Rika, who had been silent since entering the room.

“It seems there are some complimentary treats for guests in the room. Would you ca-”

The great strategist and Demon General Alciel could have never predicted Rika’s reaction.

“P-P-P---PUT TT-THAT DOWN RIGHT NOW ASHIYA!!!!!!!!!!” Rika’s voice rose quite a few decibels as she barely managed to stammer out her sentence. Her eyes were stained red and the expression on her face showed that she was on the cusp of breaking down.

“D-DON’T TOUCH THOSE” She pointed an accusing finger at the ‘mint’ in Ashiya’s hand.

Every single alarm inside Ashiya’s brain went off at that moment. Rika was acting completely normal up to this point, albeit a bit quieter ever since getting off the train. With the possibility of an enemy attack being second to none, Ashiya realized that the reason lay in something he had done. Further assessment of the situation had to be immediately done before coming to a conclusion.

“What is wrong Ms. Suzuki? If you are injured I can look and see if there’s anything I can do to help.” He kept calm as he took a few steps towards Rika.

“STAY AWAY.” Rika began yelling. She knew she was being unreasonable, but the situation had already gotten out of hand in her mind. Her consciousness was floating in and out. Part of her knew Ashiya was being naïve, but her instincts as a woman were taking over for her already fried brain.

Realizing he was only making things exponentially worse, Ashiya backed down. From the look on Rika’s face, Ashiya could tell that she was exhausted, but also afraid of something. Could it be that she finally saw him as the demon that he truly was, and being locked in a room alone had terrified her to wits’ end? The great Demon General Ashiya of the past could have cared less about the opinion of one lowly human, but the fact that Rika’s actions made Ashiya feel empty on the inside was an unmistakable sign that he had changed.

“I’m terribly… sorry Ms. Suzuki! I will go ahead and wash up, so please relax and keep the room to yourself.” Hiding the tinge of sadness that he had just felt, Ashiya grabbed the basket and towel and rushed into the bathroom.

Rika sensed the slight falter in Ashiya’s voice as his soggy figure made its way to the bathroom. She was being cruel to the man she loved yet could not stop herself. She knew she had to explain to Ashiya the issue behind this whole situation before she imploded any further. Water still dripping from her arms, she grabbed the remaining towel off the bed and began to dry herself off.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Ashiya took a good look in the mirror at his drenched figure. He must have looked quite pathetic in front of Rika. The bitter feeling in his heart wasn’t going anywhere. He must make amends with Rika somehow.

“A quick warm shower should help clear up my mind.”

Turning on the shower to allow the water to warm up, he grabbed a bottle of liquid soap from the basket he brought with him and undressed himself.

“This really isn’t a hotel isn’t it…” Rika shook her head. She cupped her hands and placed her head in them, so no one could see the desperate expression on her face. Once Ashiya gets out of the bathroom, she’d ask him a few questions and explain to him what their current situation was. That way he’d also feel a bit of embarrassment and tensions would hopefully dissipate between the two of them. Her hopes were beginning to rise when –

*BANG* … … *THUD*… … “Aaaa…”

“Ashiya? Was that you?” Rika was certain the noise had just come from the bathroom. “Is everything OK?” Had something happened inside the bathroom? Could it have been an enemy attack? Rika was still unfamiliar with the allies and enemies of the Ente Islanders she knew but still considered that something heinous may be taking place on the other side of the wall.

No answer.

Taking a leap of faith, Rika opened the door too the bathroom and peered inside, expecting the worst.

She wasn’t too far off.

“…Ms. Suzuki? I’m sorry but could I enlist your help for a moment here? I seem to be experiencing some issues” A half-naked Ashiya was sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, with only his underwear on.

“Y-yes?” Rika took a step back and hid her body behind the door. Still peering from around the corner, she observed the fallen Demon General in all his glory.

“It seems that the complimentary soap provided by this establishment is far below standards!” Ashiya declared in a defiant tone. “The residue it leaves is extremely slippery and has made it extremely difficult for me to even walk! If you would be so kind as to pass me my towel Ms. Suzuki, I will clean myself up and remove myself from this pitiful state.”

Crestfallen, Rika was speechless. Normally even the thought of her seeing Ashiya shirtless would cause all the neurons in her brain to fire simultaneously, but now she was slowly dying on the inside. Extra careful not to step into the room, Rika nimbly grabbed Ashiya’s towel from off the counter and tossed it at his face.

“Many than-”

Rika shut the door mid sentence.

Ashiya thoroughly dried himself off with the towel, quietly cursing this strange soap. Perhaps it was a unique kind of soap and he had not been taught the correct method of application? Nonetheless, more important matters had to be attended to - making amends with Rika over whatever had happened.

“Ah, I forgot to bring an outfit with me to change into!” Ashiya swore at what seemed to be his twentieth blunder of the day.

Towel neatly wrapped around his waist, Ashiya had no choice but to go back into the room and fetch the outfit himself. Asking Rika to do something again would be extremely dangerous. Back onto the battlefield once more.

Sitting in the corner of the room, shoulders raised, and hands placed on her knees, Rika stared down the still shirtless Ashiya that crept out of the bathroom towards the closet. She had a clear idea what to tell Ashiya to resolve this messed up situation in her mind, but perhaps it could wait until he was dressed again…

Ashiya opened the closet.

He… couldn’t understand the meaning of the closet’s contents. A maid outfit, nurse outfit, cat costume and…some strange clothing made up of black leather and strings. Did the receptionist mistake his request for an outfit for… something else? The only outfit that could even fit Ashiya’s body was the odd leather suit. Likely designed for some sort of horse riding or climbing, with all the metal rings attached to the torso. It seemed odd to him that medieval clothing like this existed in modern Japan.

“I guess I’ll wear this until my clothes are dry.” Ashiya pulled the outfit out of the closet.

Rika couldn’t believe her eyes. She could only stare as Ashiya pulled out the costume from the closet. The moment he tried to slip it over his head, she knew she had to act, or else she’d die of shame before being able to explain anything to Ashiya.

“MR. ASHIYA…ah…umm… could you please listen to me?!” Rika’s hoarse voice surprised herself, the nervousness was getting to her. “There’s something you should know about this room before you put that…”

Unfortunately, Ashiya’s head was currently stuck inside the costume by the time Rika had begun her protests. Head tilted at an obscure angle, he was truly the epitome of a man who had lost his wits.

“Mmmmphh-ss-s-orry Ms. Suzuki I couldn’t mmmngg-hear wh—”

Rika had had enough.

Dashing from her chair, she darted to Ashiya and forcibly ripped the costume off his body. Grabbing his exposed sides, she pushed him onto the bed before running into the washroom and fetching his wet clothes. She threw the soggy clothing onto the body of their lifeless owner. Fists clenched she walked back into the bathroom.

“Put your clothes on Ashiya. Right now. You have thirty seconds.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, Ashiya had his clothes on and was kneeling on the floor when Rika walked back out thirty seconds later. The sweat on his face was starting to form neat rivers as it slowly slipped down his forehead and onto his cheeks. Shivering from the combination of wet clothing and air conditioning in the room he stammered:

“Ms. S..S…Suzuki, I’m terribly s.s...sorry. I meant n-no offence.”

He knew he had messed up. It didn’t matter why but this was his only means of escape from the current situation. Standing at the other end of the room, Rika had a deep frown on her face.

“I’m only going to ask this once, so listen carefully.” Rika took a deep breath.

She couldn’t look Ashiya in the eyes. Shifting her focus to the floor, she continued.

“Do you know what a love hotel is?”

“A l-l-love hotel?” Was the confused reply. Head bowed, Ashiya was searching through all his past experiences in Japan to find a reference to this ‘Love Hotel’ Rika mentioned. He only recalled a few things.

“It is a place where couples go to experience time together in privacy, f-from what I understand…”

He wasn’t wrong, but Rika knew she had to bridge the information gap that Ashiya was clearly missing. Her face reddened at the thought of the question she was about to ask.

“Ashiya, how do demons…reproduce?”

It was Ashiya’s turn to be at a loss for words. Rika had thrown a curveball in Ashiya’s direction that he couldn’t have expected in a million years.

“I’m sorry Ms. Suzuki but I don’t understand the purpose of this…”

“Do you know how humans do it???” Rika’s strained voice showed that her composure was near its limit.

“Y-y-yes?”

“Well, that’s what this room is for.” Rika tightened her fists a little as she told Ashiya the crux of the issue.

“B-b-but why this strange clothing and soap?” Ashiya was genuinely concerned why such odd things were placed in the room.

“Humans… have certain things they do to…umm…set the mood for these things…” was the soft reply from across the room.

Ashiya could sense the tension in Rika’s voice. He realized that he must have given Rika many mixed messages when he dragged her into this room, considering it had something to do with human mating. Still unaware of the bizarre customs behind the deed, Ashiya figured it would be best to just keep quiet and let Rika relax. He would have to buy her an apology gift on a later date for sure.

“I understand why you must have been so confused Ms. Suzuki. Please accept my sincerest apologies.” Ashiya stood up and gave a deep bow towards Rika.

“A-ah, n-no it’s fine, since you didn’t know what kind of room it was…well…” Rika nervously shuffled her hands into her pockets before continuing. “I guess I kind of overreacted as well and started yelling at you instead of stopping to explain things.” She knew the adrenaline had gotten the better of her.

“I accept full responsibility for what has occurred here today, it was my fault for failing to provide proper accommodations. Please rest assured I hold no ill-will towards you Ms. Suzuki.” Ashiya had a small innocent smile on his face.

Seeing this, Rika’s heart warmed up a little, along with her clothes.

The tired figure of Shirou Ashiya labored up the stairs to 201 Villa Rosa Sasazuka in the moonlight. It was half past nine when the storm had finally let up and he and Rika could leave the love hotel. Although the tensions had been mostly lifted, Rika had adamantly declined his offer to accompany her home. The bitter feeling from earlier had crept back into his heart during the long train ride back.

“Humans are such…such…” Ashiya was too exhausted to finish his sentence. He opened the door to room 201 and quietly stepped in. The moon provided just enough light for him to tip toe in and put his bags down. Sighing deeply, he sat down with his back to the wall. He stared at the moon for a short while before looking around the room to see what the state of the room was.

At the other end of the room there was a large plastic bag overflowing with MgRonalds wrappers. From the sheer size of the bag, Ashiya assumed that at least 20 burgers had been ordered. His brain didn’t have enough energy to even get angry about that right now. Maou and Lucifer were both sleeping soundly in their usual spots, sprawled out without a care in the world.

Ashiya opened his bag. Even though they didn’t ‘use’ the room at the love hotel, being the stingy man that he was, he snuck some of the complimentary ‘mints’ and soap into his bag to take home. He carefully took them and placed them in the cabinet under the sink. Even though he was still unsure of their exact use, he had paid for the hotel room and wanted to get his money’s worth. The finances of the Devil King’s Castle on earth were no laughing matter, and Ashiya would keep anything if it meant they could save a few hundred yen later.

He let out a quiet yawn. Better get to sleep soon, so he could wake up and make breakfast for the two demons sleeping beside him. Ashiya quietly prepared his bedding and slid under the covers. What a long day it had been for him.

He fell asleep almost immediately, completely unaware of the ticking time-bomb he had just placed under the cabinet.

“aa...Ms. Suzuki…how good to…mmm…see…no…I” Ashiya muttered in his sleep.

But that’s a story for another day...

#hataraku maou-sama!#fanfic #rika suzuki #shirou ashiya

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