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animalkingdom-an0nymous · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer

Disclaimer: No gifs or photos are mine unless stated otherwise.

Warning: It’s a smutty, filthy, NSFW Tom Holland AU and he just can’t seem to keep his hands off his best friend’s sister. No. Really. It’s a problem for both of them.

Subject: Tom X Y/N

"Why can't you watch the beach house, Jordan?" I asked my brother with my phone tucked between my ear and shoulder, wet dishes in between my palms.

"Because you live closer, you don't have a toddler running around, and you got out of doing it last time."

"Bringing JJ into this is low, even for you. Scumbag." I laughed, not serious in the slightest.

Jordan was two years younger than me but was probably more put together than I'd ever be. He ran his own construction company, had a beautiful wife, and had given me the greatest gift I'd ever known; my nephew, JJ.

Staying at the beach house was far from a hardship, but there was a storm coming and based on the news reports it was going to get ugly. Mom and dad wanted someone there to keep an eye on things and they were getting a bit too old to handle the responsibility of tending to the beach house on their own. I didn't blame them, and I didnt blame Jordan, he was right. I did live closer, but I was also looking forward to spending this weekend's storm curled up in bed watching old Audrey Hepburn movies and eating my weight in Pizzeria Regina. My phone was gonna be on airplane mode, absolutely no disturbances. Maybe a few orgasms, a little porn.

But even as I was scrubbing dishes and getting ready for my relaxing weekend, I knew I'd soon be packing a bag and getting in my car to head to the beach. Shit. “Fine. Fine. I’ll head out soon, but if this storm turns out to be nothing I am returning your birthday present and you’re responsible for mom and dad’s anniversary dinner.”

“If you really want to trust your dear brother in the kitchen then that’s your fault.”

I laughed, drying my hands with a towel before grabbing the phone. “Jordan, can you promise me one thing?”

“What’s that, Y/N?”

“Promise to give that kid the biggest kiss for me. Leila, too.”

“Thank you for not stealing him away!” My sister-in-law’s voice traveled through the phone like a song, her Japanese accent soft.

“Love you both. Stay safe tonight.”

“Text me when you get there.”

I ended the call, tossing my phone on the bed and quickly rummaging through my closet. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the tv could be heard faintly from the living room, alerting me to the weather report. Sixty mile per hour winds, flash floods, possibility of power outages, and a storm warning was already in effect.

I quickly yanked on a pair of denim shorts and an old UMass hoodie, the maroon material worn and comfortable, and definitely not mine. There may have been a storm rolling in but the summer air was thick with humidity, so all I grabbed as alternatives were a bathing suit, another pair of shorts, and a t-shirt, tucking the materials into my backpack along with my toothbrush and phone charger.

Within minutes I was packed and ready to go, pulling the hood over my head and catching the familiar scent of someone I hadn’t seen in a while. Or, maybe it was less of a scent and more of a memory. Shrugging it away, I locked the door and bounded to my car just as the first few drops of rain began to fall.

Music flowed through the speakers as I took back roads towards the coast, something tugging at my heart a bit as I thought of the last time I’d been at the beach house. My parents, Jordan, Leila, JJ.

Tom.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax as an old song came on.

Fuck this. I turned the radio down, alone with my thoughts. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about Tom since the last time I saw him, since I said too much. It wasn’t a hookup, it was nothing more than a conversation. Which was fine, Tom and I were friends. Sort of. Not really. He was my brother’s friend, his best friend. And that was it.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t sitting there suddenly drowning in thoughts about our last encounter, both of us out on the back deck long after everyone had gone to sleep, the first real conversation we’d ever had in our adult lives. I hadn’t seen him in nearly two years when we were both still in college, Tom at UMass Amherst while I attended USC. He’d moved from London to the States with his family when he was thirteen, making fast friends with Jordan and becoming like a part of the family. He was around on holidays, weekends, he practically lived at our house during the summer. He would drink my orange juice and bother me while I tried to read. I’d known him when he was annoying and pimple faced, when he was an absolute dick to anyone who wasn’t JJ, when he was going off to college. Tom had been a major part of my childhood, my formative years.

He was also the biggest player I had ever met.

From an early age he knew that girls were drawn to the accent. He used it to his advantage, had girls hanging off his every word. I’d seen his social media, saw him shirtless on beaches with different girls, in clubs with different girls, in dorm rooms with different girls. I wasn’t jealous, but only because I’d known him for years. However, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about the hype.

From the day I met him, I knew Tom Holland was trouble.

But that night, long after everyone had gone to sleep and we were two bottles of wine deep, something shifted. Maybe it was the topic of conversation, maybe it was the way the late June breeze wrapped around us, maybe it was the fucking wine. But something changed that night.

But that was two months ago.

We hadn’t spoken since.

I shook my head, telling myself to stay focused on the road, on the drive. I could still have the peaceful weekend I wanted, if only I could turn my brain off for just a bit.

I was pulling into the driveway of the beach house forty five minutes later and the rain was coming down in buckets. It was flying sideways, splashing against the car hard enough that I couldn’t see out the windshield. Thunder boomed overhead and it felt as though it was straight out of a movie.

I yanked my hood up once more and killed the engine, gripping my backpack and holding it against my chest as I looked at the house. The two story, wood shingled home was every bit the beach cottage. It was located right on a dead end, a path leading straight down to the beach.

The lights were off, the furniture on the porch scattered from the wind. I knew I’d have my work cut out for me if I needed to make sure everything was secure, so without thinking twice, I threw open the driver’s side door and jumped out, the broken shells in the driveway crunching under my sneakers. I made a beeline for the side door, running up the steps and throwing open the storm door as the wind howled around me, A regular thunderstorm was bad enough. A summer storm? It could leave the house flooded.

Unlocking the door, I threw myself inside and slammed it behind me, leaning back and catching my breath as the silent stillness of the house settled around me. Thanks to modern technology, I turned the central air on before I got there, so the air was cool against my bare legs.

I went through the motions and turned some lights on, made sure the basement was shut with bags of sand by every entrance to soak up any flood water or other leaks. The fridge was empty, but I wasn’t hungry anyway. I knew I’d disappear up to my room with a bottle of wine and Netflix on my mind soon enough, I just needed to make-

Headlights bounced off the living room walls, a sign that someone had just pulled into the driveway. Surely it wasn’t my parents, they both hated driving in the rain, and it couldn’t have been Jordan, unless he was so concerned by the weather that he felt compelled to drive over an hour to check on me.

I quickly pulled my phone out of my back pocket. No missed calls or texts. Oh, so you’re saying it’s a murderer? My mind was quickly going into overdrive, covering all the possibilities of who would be there to murder me and what I could use as a weapon to defend myself. But hey, could you blame me? Twenty five years old and alone during a storm, 20/20 basically already had that episode mapped out for me.

A car door slammed shut.

Shells were being crunched under shoes.

Pounding footsteps up the side stairs. A shadow appeared on the other side of the door and my heart leaped into my chest. I was more than prepared to call the police when I heard the familiar sound of a key being inserted into a lock. I was standing in the doorway of the living room when the side door swung open, revealing someone I most certainly wasn’t expecting to see.

“I… Tom?”

He was squinting, his face and hair soaked by the onslaught of rain outside. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

It was evident that he was just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. Tom’s accent seemed to thicken when he was angry or confused, and right now he seemed to be a mix of both.

I took in his appearance, trying not to be too obvious. He was wearing dark washed jeans and a pair of black Nikes, a simple black hoodie over a plain white t-shirt. Completely fucking effortless and still the most good looking guy in a fifty mile radius. His brown curls were matted to his forehead and he pushed them back, running his fingers through the thick trusses.

“What are you doing here?” The words came out accusatory and I cleared my throat. Relax. You’ve been in this house with him plenty of times before. “Are you... is there a girl in your car or something?”

“What?” Tom scrubbed a hand over his face, still clearly shocked and confused. “What do you- Jesus, no. You think I’d bring a girl back to your parents’ beach house, Y/N?” He finally looked at me, drops of water still catching on his long lashes. “You think I’d- hey, my jumper.”

“What?” I responded before looking down. Fuck. Me. Sideways. I was still wearing the UMass hoodie, the same UMass hoodie he’d given me last time I saw him. “Oh! Yeah, I… I brought it back to my place with me. And then Jordan called me and asked me to come here and it was right by the door, so I figured I’d… you know, bring it back here and… leave it… for you?” I was making it sound like a question.

Why was I making it sound like a question?

Are you having a fucking stroke? I asked myself as Tom blinked at me a few times, saying nothing. Lightning struck outside, momentarily blinding me as the lights flickered. Damn, losing power meant no Netflix. No Netflix meant Y/N’s chill weekend was about to go to shit. Technically, it already did because I 1) wasn’t even in my own home and 2) no longer feeling chill thanks to one british Tom.

“Jordan asked you to come?”

“Yeah, why?”

He looked around, peeking out the window. “Your parents called me and asked if I’d come make sure the house was secure.”

My parents? I was confused. Jordan specifically called me and asked me to go because he couldn’t. Why would my parents call Tom? Questions were flying through my head and I was already shrugging out of the hoodie, suddenly feeling like the material was too heavy, like I was drowning in it.

I held it out to him as he turned to face me again. “He probably didn’t call them to let them know I was coming, you know how he is.”

Tom smiled then, revealing straight white teeth. “Your brother’s a space cadet.”

That smile had my stomach doing backflips and I ached to calm down. It never used to be like this with him. He was cute, yes. Very. He was charming. He had nice looking hands. But he was Tom. He was Jordan’s Tom. He was the same Tom who fucked Missy Turner under the bleachers at the Homecoming game and the same Tom who let Rochelle Adams suck him off in the janitor’s closet during school. He was that Tom.

So why was I looking at him like he was Netflix and I’d had a long ass day?

I realized I was still staring, not saying anything. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here. We can kill Jordan, if you want. I feel like that’s good payback?”

Tom nodded, still smiling and playing along. “Yeah, we could. But then Leila would do away with us and I’m far too handsome to die this young.”

“True.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and jerked his chin at me. “And you… you have more of my jumpers to steal.”

I cocked my head to the side. “I didn’t steal it. If I remember correctly, you offered it to me.”

“I did.”

I was still holding the hoodie out to him. “Here.”

He made no move to grab it, hands still in his pockets. “Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”

My stomach dropped and I found myself speechless. “I… you sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah, no worries.”

I nodded my head, heat flooding my face as I looked down. What the fuck was going on with me? I didn’t act shy, not around other guys and definitely not around Tom. During college, I finally found my confidence sexually and I took hold of that. I was not the shy girl.

“Do you want to head out before the weather gets really bad?” I asked him

.As if on cue, thunder cracked loudly overhead, releasing a loud boom followed by flashes of lightning. The lights flickered again and Tom met my eyes across the room, blinking those chocolate pools at me. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere, darling.”

His voice was quiet, almost too quiet. I could have sworn I could hear the waves crashing against the shore, or maybe it was the blood rushing in my ears. We stood, staring at each other for a moment, and I opened my mouth to speak when there was a loud crash at the back of the house.

I jumped with a yelp, my heart slamming against my ribcage. “What the fuck was that?”

Tom moved past me, absentmindedly reaching out to touch my arm as he went. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

Um, that’s what people say right before they murdered. Even though I had come to terms with the fact that I was irrational, I wasn’t going to take any risks. Turning, I followed close behind him, catching the earthy, musky scent of his soap. Or, was it his laundry detergent? I didn’t know, but I enjoyed it. He smelled woodsy, warm. Safe.

Back the fuck up I cleared my throat, telling myself not to look at the way the material of his jacket stretched across his shoulders. There was a small crash again as we made our way to the back door.

“It’s a shutter.” He laughed and opened the window, screaming wind filling my ears as he grabbed the shutter and slammed it, closing the window. Turning, he had a smug smirk on his face. “You’re a big baby.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No, I’m not.”

He started to laugh, tilting his head back. “You screamed like a banshee.”

I flipped him off before turning my back on him, retreating as his laughter followed. “You’re a dick.”

My response only made him laugh harder.

Everything in the house seemed to be in order. The windows were shut and locked, the basement was set. The only thing that needed to be brought in was the outdoor furniture, but we needed the rain to let up a bit first.

When I walked back down the stairs after checking the second floor, Tom was rummaging through the kitchen. Seeing him there immediately brought me back to that night, the intimate conversation, the almost.

TWO MONTHS AGO

My parents had gone to bed nearly an hour ago and I was in my room listening to an old Rolling Stones record. Jordan was somewhere, possibly in his room with Leila and JJ, or possibly drinking down on the beach with Tom. It was one of the first weekends at the beach house, one of the first weekends of summer, and the air wasn’t thick yet. There was a breeze floating through the open windows and everything felt warm. New. The summer solstice was upon us and I lived for family weekends at the beach.

Funny thing about family weekends? Tom was there almost every single time.

“You’re still up?” I asked his back as I entered the kitchen, watching as he struggled to uncork a bottle of wine. He was wearing black basketball shorts and his old UMass hoodie, somehow still looking like an ad for an Abercrombie summer collection.

Tom sighed in defeat, slamming the bottle down on the granite countertop before answering me with a huff. “First weekend here and your brother’s already in bed.”

“Dad life.” I said with a laugh.

Tom smiled at the mention of our godchild. The day Jordan and Leila asked us to be godparents I’d been so emotional I cried for nearly an hour and, though I knew he wouldn't admit it if pressed, Tom was emotional about it, too.

“I love that little monster.”

I reached out, taking the bottle and finessing the cork for a moment before it finally released with a soft pop. “Jesus, Tom, you need to be slow with her. Gentle.” I chided as I reached into the cabinet, producing two glasses.

He took the bottle in a wide palm, tilting it to fill a glass before passing it to me. “I don’t know, she doesn’t like it too gentle.”

I rolled my eyes even as I felt my heart speed up. “Are we still talking about wine, or has the conversation moved to your latest conquest?”

Tom put a hand over his heart and threw his head back as if he’d been shot. “For your information, there hasn’t been a so called conquest in over a month.”

I feigned shock. “Over a month? Tommy, are you feeling alright?”

I was still laughing, but Tom paused to glare at me for using his little nickname. He hated being called Tommy and always had, but for whatever reason he never corrected me, never told me not to call him that. He’d glare, sure, but he never told me to stop.

“Feeling just fine, love.” He took a sip of the cool white wine, his brown eyes looking at me over the delicate crystal glass he held. “Fancy going outside for a bit?”

We were the only two left awake. I could faintly hear the pitter patter of feet upstairs as Jordan or Leila hushed a crying JJ, and then looked at Tom. “Yeah, let’s go.”

And that’s how we ended up on the back porch, the sound of the sea crashing against the shoreline as a soundtrack for our conversation. The wind had picked up but other than that the world was silent. It was just the two of us, and after not seeing each other for so long it felt like there was a million things to catch up on, yet I didn’t know where to start. I could ask him about graduation or what it was like to live in a big city, but in the grand scheme of things did those questions really matter? Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the atmosphere. But I wanted to know about Tom, about how he was doing, how his life was. If he was happy.

If he was single.

The thought was fleeting yet it caught me off guard nonetheless. I had no reason for caring if Tom was single, but there I was wondering if he was. He had changed over the two years I was away, his eyes sharper, his jaw more defined and making him look older. Still five eight but no longer the skinny boy he used to be. There was more definition to his arms, his chest a bit more puffed up. I took in the breadth of his shoulders and the slope of his neck, too caught up in staring at him to notice that he was actually speaking to me.

“What did you say?”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Daydreamer. Are you listening to me at all?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry!” I laughed, draining my glass and then reaching for the bottle. “This wine goes right to my head. I’m all ears, what were you saying?”

He grabbed the bottle from me, refilling his own glass. “I was asking you about being home. Are you and… Bryan… Bobby… doing the long distance thing?”

“His name is Ben, and no.”

Tom snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Ben! That’s right, Boring Ben.”

I wanted to defend my newest ex, but I couldn’t. He truly was one of the most boring, insufferable people I’d ever been around. We dated for the last two years of college, maybe out of convenience, or maybe because it was because I’d gotten comfortable. People assumed we would get married, but the thought of walking down the aisle to him made me sick to my stomach. We literally had nothing to talk about, his friends didn’t like me, and the sex was mediocre at best, leaving me disappointed with myself for getting so comfortable that I was settling for bad sex.

I took a sip of my wine, looking down at the glass for a moment.

“I… what did you just say, love?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused.

“Did you just say that you settled for bad sex with Boring Ben?”

What? What? It was quite possibly the biggest mistake I’d ever made, saying those words aloud. But it all honesty I didn’t think I’d said anything. I wasn’t drunk, definitely not drunk enough to make that sort of slip.

I was mortified.

My eyes widened as I looked at Tom. My face and ears felt hot and I tried to sputter out an apology. “Holy shit. Tom, listen, I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud. I-”

“Stop.”

I paused, my heart hammering in my chest. He leaned forward slightly, placing his glass on the table as he regarded me seriously. “You didn’t mean to say any of it out loud. But you were thinking about the bad sex you settled for?”

I took in his words and felt my face heat even more. It sounded pathetic, embarrassing, but I was so focused on school that the relationship had taken more of a backseat. It was nice to have someone at the holidays and during family and university events. It was nice to not feel so alone in California while my friends and family were three thousand miles away. It was all… nice. Convenient. Words that shouldn’t always be associated when regarding a relationship.

But it was my truth. Ben was boring, I was settling, we got stuck.

“Can we pretend this never happened?” I blurted the words out, hoping Tom would be agreeable. If he told Jordan they would rag on me for the rest of my life and having to suffer through it now was bad enough.

“I don’t think I can do that, darling.” He was already shaking his head and my stomach was sinking. “Because it breaks my heart that you settled for less.”

I didn’t know what to say, caught off guard by Tom’s soft tone and sweet words. I shouldn’t have zeroed in on him calling me darling, but I couldn’t help it. He’d never done that before.

Ever.

I shivered, not knowing if it was from the breeze or the way he was looking at me, but he noticed. Quirking that one, whacky eyebrow at me, Tom asked, “Are you cold?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, the wind is picking up.” I rubbed my hands over my arms.

Tom stood, reaching a hand behind his back in between his shoulder blades, pulling his hoodie off. I tried to avert my eyes as the front of his shirt rose, revealing a strip of skin above his shorts. I couldn’t help but stare at the defined V of his hips or notice the way his ab muscles contracted with every movement.

He handed me the sweatshirt with a boyish smile on his face. “Take it. I’m hot anyway.”

You have no idea, I mused silently, thanking him and slipping the material over my head. It was soft, worn, the inside of it felt warm from his body heat. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the material, pulling the hood up so that it framed my face.

“Looks good,” he quipped.

I smiled, taking a very large sip of my wine, thinking I was out of the clear.

“So how bad was it?”

I nearly spit the wine out at the question. “Excuse me?”

“The sex.” He deadpanned. “How bad was it?”

If I was the fainting type I would have been on the deck floor. “Tom, I’m not fucking telling you about my sex life.”

“Sounds like a LACK of a sex life, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

He smiled, but it quickly faded as he regarded me seriously. “Really, Y/N, how bad was it?”

I wanted to blame my honesty on the alcohol or the late hour, but really I think I just wanted someone to talk to. Someone to confide in. Tom may have been an asshole playboy to some, but never to me. Thinking back on it, he may have even been a gentleman to me. Sure, he would annoy me when we were kids and barge into my room without knocking, or he’d go through my purse looking for gum, and there was the time he accidentally ate my birth control thinking it was a mint.

But Tom was also the guy who punched my high school boyfriend in the teeth for dumping me the night before Homecoming. He was also the guy who made an obnoxiously huge sign with Jordan for my graduation. He was that guy.

“It wasn’t… bad.” I found myself starting to open up a bit, pulling at a thread that was sure to unravel if I didn’t stop soon. “It was just routine. It was always the same thing, Ben wasn’t very adventurous. He didn’t like to try things, he hated anything new. He was just…” I took a breath, trying to choose my words carefully. “Set in his ways, I suppose. And that didn’t work for me anymore.”

“So, you ended it?”

I nodded, draining my glass once again. “Yeah, and that was when he showed his true colors.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

I thought back to the breakup. We’d been in Ben’s truck and it was raining. We were parked at a diner that was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. “He confronted me. He knew I was acting weird and he refused to drop it until I told him. I tried to explain that it wasn’t him, that I felt we just weren’t compatible. Ben lost his fucking mind. He was screaming at me about how he had all these plans for us, how I was fucking things up.” I paused, thinking back on the way he looked at me, like I was trash. “He called me a cunt, told me to get out of his car, and then I walked two miles back to my apartment.”

Tom’s eyes widened at my admission. His cheeks were tinted pink and I assumed it was from the booze, but when his mouth pulled into a tight line I realized it was because he was angry. I’d even say he was pissed. “He what?”

“I know, I know, it was a shitty thing for him to do. But the thing is, I’m not even all that upset about it anymore. I finally got to see who he really was and, oddly enough, the only thing I felt on that two mile walk was relief. It was finally over, it was like Ben was my last attachment to California. I could finally come home.”

He was silent for a moment, taking a sip of his wine before speaking. “Do your parents know about what happened with Ben? Does Jordan?”

I shook my head.

“Then why tell me?”

Our eyes met, held. Tom’s face held a look of concern, confusion, and something else. Something I couldn’t quite place. He was leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees as we stared each other down.

“Because honesty comes easier when it’s dark out, Tommy.”

He swallowed, not looking away from me. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears, the wine making my lips tingle with the familiar buzz. Everything suddenly felt hot, burning hot, like it was on fire. Like the whole world was about to go up in flames.

Maybe mine was.

“I won’t tell them.”

“I know you won’t.” I reached out, gripping his hand. “You’re a good guy, Tommy.” I gave his hand a quick squeeze, meaning to let go, but then his long digits were wrapping around the back of my hand and it suddenly felt like we were magnets. I couldn’t let him go. His skin was warm, somewhat calloused against the soft skin of my knuckles.

His voice was so soft and quiet when he finally broke the silence, I had to lean in to hear him. “Y/N, what were those things you wanted to try?”

“Huh?” I felt as though I was in a trance.

“You said Boring Ben never wanted to try new things. What were they? He raised his eyebrows expectantly, fingers still stroking over the back of my hand.

It felt like a distraction, a very chaotic, overstimulating distraction. It was the smallest, simplest of movements, but feeling his fingers dance across my skin was hypnotic, and it was only my HAND. But I couldn’t ignore the question and it made my stomach turn. I didn’t want to tell him the things I wanted to do with Ben, the different versions of sex I wanted to explore more of. Sure, I tried things with different people before Ben and I got together, but it had been so long. So long since I got the attention I was craving.

So long since I’d done something reckless and new.

So long since I’d been touched by hands that were actually interested in making me feel more than a grip.“Tom…” I breathed out his name, suddenly overwhelmed. The scent of him was on the sweatshirt I wore and I could feel his knee bump mine as he moved closer.

“Tell me. I can keep a secret, love.” His words were hushed, quiet as he leaned just a little closer, our faces mere inches apart.

“I…” I started, my eyes flickering down to his lips before moving back up. Tom saw the movement, his lips curling slightly. “I wanted… something new.”

“Something new or someone new?” Tom responded.

“I don’t know.” I answered honestly, feeling his fingers tighten around mine.

“I think you do. I think you know exactly what you want, Y/N, you just need to say it.” He leaned even closer, his nose brushing mine, and when I went to back up he brought his free hand around and reached into the sweatshirt, knocking the hood off and cupping the back of my neck, his hand gentle but firm, kneading the soft skin where my neck met my shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” I gasped, suddenly struggling to breathe, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events.

“Then tell me what you want. Say it.”

I was so wrapped up in Tom, in the moment, that I didn’t care about anything. Fuck the neighbors, fuck Boring Ben, fuck my family that was literally sleeping only feet away in the house. I wanted Tom. I wanted new. I wanted him to touch me the way he touched the girls who told stories about him. I wanted him to kiss me like he’d die if couldn’t.

“I want y-”

“Y/N? Tom?” a soft, sleepy voice came from just inside the house.

We sprang apart like we’d been electrocuted, Tom standing and walking to the edge of the porch while I pulled the hood back up, trying to look nonchalant and failing beautifully just as Jordan poked his head out from the screen door. “What are you two doing up?”

Tom didn’t answer, still looking out towards the path that led to the beach. “We couldn’t sleep, figured we’d devour a bottle of wine and then crash.” I laughed even though I felt anything but amused, standing up and heading over to the door. “I’m gonna try to sleep, though. I’ll see you both in the morning?” I brushed past Jordan, standing up on my tiptoes to hug him before turning to Tom, who had finally turned around. The look on his face was strained and frustrated, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

God, he was so far from the boy I used to know.

“Goodnight, Tommy.”

PRESENT

“Earth to Y/N.” Tom waved a hand in front of my face, laughing. “You with me?”

I shook my head, pulled out of that very intimate memory. “What? Yeah, sorry. It’s been a long week.” I laughed and tried to play it off like I was fine, but my stomach was turning in knots. We’d both slept under the same roof before, hundreds of times, but now things felt different. Heavy. It was like I’d spilled something last time and there was still a stain that wouldn’t come up no matter how hard I scrubbed.

“You have your pick of bedrooms.” I said casually. “Jordan’s, my parents’, the guest room. Whatever you want.”

Whatever you want. It was an unintentional double entendre, but I noticed the way his eyes darkened slightly.

“Where are you sleeping?”

“My room.” I clarified.

He nodded his head, moving around the center island as he shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it over the back of the couch. “Y/N, can I ask you a question?”I shrugged my shoulders.

“Go for it.”

He looked at me then, his jaw clenched as he braced his hands on the back of the sofa, fingers spread in a way that looked almost vulgar. “Why the fuck are you looking at me like you’re scared I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”

“I’m not.” I started to defend myself, straightening my spine. “I’m just freaked out because of the rain.”

“Bollocks. You’ve loved the rain since we were kids.”

I shook my head, sensing the anger in his tone. “Don’t do this whole angry british thing tonight, Tom. I’m in a mood.”

“Clearly.”I narrowed my eyes at him, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” He huffed at me, his cheeks flushed. “You’re the one who can barely look me in the eye, Y/N. So, you tell me what the problem is.”

“I don’t have a problem.” It was a lie. A blatant lie. But I wanted to move past whatever this was with him. I had to move past it. I couldn’t crush on my brother’s best friend. I read those books. I saw those movies. It would ruin everything.I had finally come home, had finally gotten my old life back. No matter how much I wanted Tom- and believe me, I fucking craved him- I could never have him. He would always be just out of my grasp.Which was a good thing.

“Okay, you don’t have a problem. That means we can discuss what happened last time we were here, yeah?”

I froze, no words coming out of my mouth. He said the words so casually it was as though he was talking about the weather. “I... “ I was struggling, slipping, losing my composure. “I don’t know-”

Tom was shaking his head, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Don’t even fuckin’ say it, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Tom looked at me, eyes blazing. “You wanted it, I know you did. I felt it.”

My breathing was labored as I blinked at him. I had no idea how to respond. I didn’t want to acknowledge what happened, I wanted us to forget it and move on. It was a moment of weakness, it was late.

“It was the wine.” I said quietly. “We were drinking. W-we weren’t thinking straight.”

“It was the wine.” He repeated my words, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at me. “It was the wine.. That’s a joke, innit?” When I didn’t respond, Tom walked over to me, the tips of his sneakers touching the tips of my bare toes. “The truth is, Y/N, you didn’t drink that much. Neither did I. I knew exactly what I was saying to you and I was sober enough to see your reaction.”

“Tom-”

“Why won’t you be honest with me?” Tom’s voice was so soft it felt like a blanket.

The question felt like a knife to the gut? He was right to be confused. I never had any issue speaking my mind with Tom, with Ben, with anyone. I was opinionated, I said what was on my mind. But I was completely frozen with him. I just couldn’t push the words out of my mouth, couldn’t tell him that all of this was killing me, draining me. I couldn’t be open and honest and tell him that I’d spent the last two months thinking about him. That it never stopped. That the smell of him was haunting me, the feeling of his fingers on my skin was a memory I wanted to drown it. Tom had been in my life for over a decade.

Why now?

As if God was finally on my side for once, we were interrupted by the sound of furniture scraping across both the front and back decks. “My parents are gonna kill me if we lose any of those deck chairs.”

He stared at me for a moment and said nothing, his eyes searching my face. Eventually, he took one step back, seemingly giving up

.I hated the relief that went through me. But more than that, I loathed the disappointment that tugged at my heartstrings. I felt his eyes on me as I walked to the front door, pulling open the door and bursting outside with a deep breath, appreciating the way the rain hit my skin. I needed to cool down.

We were both silent as we got the stuff from the front and put it in the living room, turning the normally spacious room into nothing more than a cramped closet. Then came the back of the house, something that would be more difficult. The furniture was heavier, we had to walk up and down stairs, the thunder was clapping so loud I feared I’d go deaf.

I glanced up at Tom as he bounded down the porch steps. His shirt was completely soaked, the white material now stuck to his skin, nearly transparent. I could make out the tight muscles of his shoulders and the way his back tapered down to a lean waist.

Stop, stop, stop. I was screaming at myself, my feet slipping in my flip flops. I angrily kicked them off and then stormed down the stairs, suddenly furious about the rain and having to come to the beach house, and I was angry at Tom for not leaving well enough alone. More than that though, I was angry at myself for letting any of it happen in the first place.

He was dragging chairs by me when I stopped and wheeled around, facing him. “Why would you go and do this now?” I had to shout to be heard over the rain. “Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?”

Tom paused for a moment, his jaw clenched, rain dripping down his face. Releasing the chairs, he slicked his hair back. “I… I don’t know. Okay, I don’t bloody know, Y/N. I saw you here for the first time in two fucking years, and I missed you. I missed you so fucking much and I didn’t even know it. And then you were here and I couldn’t get enough of you. I wanted to catch up, I wanted to talk. I wasn’t even going to try anything, not that night, but then you mentioned Ben and everything you didn’t do with him, and I just couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, alright? I am. But I’m not gonna sit here and play this bullshit game with you. You let me in that night and you can’t take it back.”

You let me in that night and you can’t take it back.

His admission left me stunned. He looked vulnerable and honest, the words heartfelt. I knew he meant all of it, that he didn’t mean for anything to happen that night. Not that anything really happened, but it felt as though that conversation changed everything. There was a shift, one that neither of us could stop.

“It doesn’t matter.” I finally responded, my voice laced with disappointment. “We can’t do this, Tom. Whatever that night was, whatever that conversation was, it has to stay there. It has to stay in that night.”

“I can’t fucking do that!” He shouted, the rain still pouring down around us. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I didn’t feel something, Y/N.”

I was aching for him to stop. I knew he meant all of it, that he wasn’t trying to play me or hurt me. Tom would never risk saying the things he said if they weren’t at least party true.

I was beyond frustrated as I turned, grabbing more things to bring inside. Tom was huffing and puffing ahead of me, mumbling to himself. He was clearly angry, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. We were both soaked from head to toe, my feet bare against the deck as we lifted the glass table, maneuvering it up the stairs to the back of the house.Tom’s eyes were on me the whole time and I was too cowardly to look in his direction. Carrying that heavy glass table while thunder roared and lightning flashed was stressful, to say the least. But I didn’t even care about the storm, I cared about the absolute hurricane that was my situation with Tom. I wanted to fix it, needed to.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

His question caught me off guard. We’d put the rest of the furniture away and I was outside searching for one missing flip flop, rain hitting me sideways as I turned to stare at him. He was leaned against the door frame, arms crossed with that white shirt sticking to him like a second skin. I could make out the line of the chain he wore, could see where it fell against his chest. Tom looked like the cover of a romance novel, a few stray curls falling around his forehead. Even in my terrified, angry confusion, my attraction to him was undeniable.

“I’m not being stubborn. I’m being smart. What, you want me to admit that I’m attracted to you? Fine, Tom. I am. But attraction doesn’t change things. We can’t cross that line, now will you please help me find my other flip flop?”

“Jesus.” He stormed past me, pointing a finger in my direction as he went. “This conversation’s not done.”

I shouted his name as he walked back down the stairs in no urgency because he was already soaked. His jeans sat low on his hips, probably weighed down by the water as he bent down, pulling something from one of the hedges at the end of the property. My flip flop. Turning, Tom walked back up the stairs slowly, purposefully, his stance all man and making me feel very, very small. I was waiting at the top when he finally stepped up, crowding me, holding my shoe in his right hand. Our chests were touching, just slightly, and I could feel my nipples harden from the slight contact.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, reaching to grab it from him.

Only to have Tom pull it towards him, away from me. “Have you thought about kissing me?”

“What?”

“Have you thought about me touching you?”

“Tom…” I backed up three steps with him following my movements, keeping us close, chest to chest.

“Those things you wanted to try, have you thought about trying them with me? Because, fuck, I’ve thought about you.”

His admission made me weak, my breath catching in my throat. We were getting close, so dangerously close to something we couldn’t turn back from.

“I’ve thought about you every day. I’ve thought about your eyes and your mouth and the way you look in my fucking jumper.” Tom’s hands grabbed my face roughly, cupping my cheeks, fingers tangling in my hair.

He was holding me there as my breathing went ragged, our eyes finally meeting. His pupils were blown out, water dripping down the bridge of his nose

.It was all so intense. It was overwhelming. I wanted him so bad it was physically starting to hurt, my hands going up and gripping his wrists, prepared to pull his hands away. “You are… so fucking infuriating.” I was breathless, weak, but I still noticed the smile that pulled at his lips.

“Darling, I’m a fucking devil.”

I knew what was coming, knew I should pull away, but as soon as his lips came down on mine in a bruising, hard kiss, I knew I was gone.

Tom’s lips were hard, demanding, his tongue eagerly licking at the seam of my mouth and begging for entry. His hands still held my face hard enough to prevent me from backing up, but even if he let go I knew I’d stay, the brief taste of his lips so intoxicating it felt like I was in a trance.

He pulled back, his eyes opening. Our noses still touched and I could feel his breath fan across my lips. Our eyes met and for the briefest moment I thought he was going to pull away, but he spoke instead.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

I paused, my throat dry and my breathing ragged. I couldn’t lie anymore, to Tom or myself, so I opted for honesty instead. “You, Tom. I want you.”

That was all he needed to hear before his mouth was on mine again. He slanted his lips over mine, tilting my head back. When our tongues touched I felt like my body was on fire and I couldn’t help but wonder why we hadn’t done it sooner. Tom tasted like mint, like a secret, like my deepest, darkest fucking fantasy.

All of a sudden he was pushing us, walking forward while I stumbled back, our mouths still fused together as he let out a soft groan. I wanted so badly to memorize the sound, to hear it again, but I was too focused on not falling over. Something sharp dug into my back and I winced, gasping into Tom’s mouth.

“What the fuck was that?” I gripped my side and turned. The doorknob.

“Shit,” he muttered, reaching to lift at the edge of my shirt. “Is it going to leave a bruise? Let me kiss it better.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed, opening the door and ushering him inside. “I’m fine. Really.”

“No.” Tom’s hands gripped my hips. He was looking at me with mischief in his eyes and it made my stomach do a backflip. “Really, love, let me kiss it better.” I felt his fingers skim over my bare flesh as he dragged the wet material of my shirt up and over my head, dropping it to the ground.

My chest was heaving as he looked me over, eyes zeroing in on my breasts. I was wearing a simple black lace bra, nothing fancy. But Tom was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and my heart swooned.I thought he was going to kiss me again, but instead he sank to his knees and my breath caught in my throat as he looked up at me. I was wearing my shorts, my underwear, and a barely there bra while Tom was still fully dressed. I felt vulnerable, small, but in that moment I fucking loved it.

Tom’s breath fanned over my hip as he kissed the spot where the doorknob had jammed into me. “Better?” he asked, looking up at me through thick, dark lashes. All I could do was nod, and his smug smile told me everything I needed to know; Tom knew exactly what he was doing.

His hands skimmed over the backs of my thighs, traveling down. When his fingers touched the backs of my knees they wobbled, and I knew he felt it. “This alright?”

I nodded my head, reaching one hand out and tangling my fingers in his wet hair, feeling his head nudge into my touch. “Use your words, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” I managed to gasp out. He’d barely touched me, barely kissed me and I was still completely breathless.

“Do you want more?”

"Fuck." I gritted my teeth, suddenly frustrated he was moving so slow. "Yes."

He smiled, soft lips trailing over my hip, his teeth biting at the denim that hugged my skin. "How about we play a game?"

I huffed, my fingers stilling in his hair. "I'm not in the mood for games, Tom."

He stood then, nails lightly scraping up the sides of my legs and making my skin break out in goosebumps. Every single part of me was ignited and I was on sensory overload. "What if I promised you win this game?" He kissed my shoulder, one hand trailing over my side and traveling up my back, tracing my vertebra. "What if I told you that you win quite a few times?"

I gasped, drunk on his words as he leaned in, kissing me again just as he reached up and unclasped my bra. The straps fell down my shoulders slowly and as his lips grazed mine I reached bed between us, tugging the rest of the material down.

Like any straight, hot blooded male, Tom leaned back and looked down, taking in my naked breasts. "Shit," he breathed, leaning down and sliding his tongue over the curve of one globe, mouth warm and tongue wet. I was already arching into his touch when his mouth closed over my nipple. I thought he’d be gentle, thought he’d start slow, but he sucked HARD, yanking my nipple to the roof of his mouth until I yelped.

Tom groaned against my skin, releasing me with a pop. “Mhm, I liked that sound. Didn’t picture you as a screamer.” He smirked at me, his mouth red and his lips swollen.

I laughed and leaned in, my arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as we stumbled through the dining room. “Yeah? You’ve been thinking about the sounds I make?” I licked a fat stripe up Tom’s neck, feeling him shiver against me.

“I’ve thought about much more than that.” He grabbed me by my hips, now in the kitchen, and lifted me, my ass landing on the counter as the wind howled outside.I watched, mesmerized as Tom lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest. His abs were hard, tight, and I wanted to leave hickies scattered across his collarbones.

“I’ve thought about you. Here.” He tapped one finger against the countertop. “And I thought about what it would be like to fuck you while everyone slept upstairs.” He took a step forward, his hands going to his jeans, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper. “Me, telling you to be quiet, putting my hand over your mouth.”

Tom’s long fingers reached out, sliding over my chin, across my cheek. When they traveled over my lips I couldn’t help but poke my tongue out, tasting the tips of his fingers. He stopped for a moment, leaving them there, eyes glued to my mouth as I repeated the motion, this time holding eye contact as I tipped my head back, letting his index and middle fingers dip into my mouth, my tongue wrapping around them and sucking softly.

His hand twitched slightly, I felt it, and I smiled around his fingers, groaning softly when he pulled back. The truth was, I wanted them deeper. So much deeper.

“Fuckin’ minx.” Tom’s voice was rough and his hands were the same, gripping my thighs hard and pulling me to the edge of the counter. My legs hugged his slim waist, my hands settling on his chest. “You want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

I nodded my head. Consequences be damned.“Fine. I’ll fuck you any way you want. But you have to tell me one of those things you wanted to try first.”

“Tom…”

“C’mon.” His voice was soft, smooth. Charming. When he spoke again his accent was thicker and I physically throbbed for him. “Give me a little bit, love.”

“I…” I started, suddenly very self conscious of my own sexual desires. It was different when I was having sex with Ben because it was always the same thing, and it was different sleeping with a stranger because I’d never have to see them again. But I would have to face Tom in the morning and every day after that. I didn’t want his opinion of me to change. “I want to suck your fingers while you fuck me.”

The words were so soft I wasn’t even sure he heard me. He was silent, eyes staring at my mouth before looking up, meeting my gaze. “That’s it? That’s what you were so nervous to tell me?”

I shook my head, unable to help myself from laughing. “Oh, man. No, you have no idea how many things I want to try. We’re just not there yet.”

Yet.

Why was I implying that it was going to happen again?

Tom’s hands were sliding up and down my thighs while my ankles were locked at his waist, his fingers eventually popping the button and zipper while I waited for his response. “You like hands?” When I nodded he continued. “You like my hands?” As if to emphasize, he slapped one hand roughly over the side of my thigh and I jumped.

He shushed me, pursing his lips softly. “Relax, darling. We’re about to have fun.”

Without another word he unwound my legs and pushed his hands against my shoulders until I was laying flat against the cold quartz counter, arching my back and gasping. Tom hooked his fingers into my shorts and underwear, pulling both down and leaving me completely naked in one swift move. I felt vulnerable and open, but he quickly forced me to move past that as he spread my legs, his fingers splayed across my thighs.

His groan sent shivers through me.

“You’re like a fucking dream.” His words were hushed even though we were the only two in the house. “Oh, shit, did I just see you clench up for me?” His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as I threw my hands over my face, mortified and turned on all at once. He could see every part of me.

“Tom!” I practically shouted. If he didn’t touch me soon I was going to-

My body tensed up and every coherent through flew from my mind as Tom licked a fat stripe all the way from my ass to my clit, groaning and sending vibrations through me. My legs twitched and he repeated the motion, my nerve endings on fire.

Tom Holland’s head was between my fucking thighs.

His lips closed over my clit, sucking at the same time as he pressed his tongue flat against the bundle of nerves, and my hips pretty much lifted off the counter.

“Tommy!” I gasped, the sound ending on a choked moan as he looked up at me, brown eyes nearly black.

He pulled back for a moment and I could see his lips, glistening and wet from my arousal. “You know, you’re the only one allowed to call me that?”

My head lolled slightly and I looked at him, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair. “Why?”

“Because I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

His admission did something to my insides, made me just a little weaker for him. I was the only one allowed to call him Tommy, the only one to have that little nickname. Something possessive soared through my veins and I quickly sat up, seeing his shocked expression as the fingers that were in his hair traveled down, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him towards me, our lips attaching. I couldn’t stop fucking kissing him and when I tasted myself on his tongue I wanted him even more, sliding my tongue into his mouth and dominating the kiss.

“I wasn’t fucking done with you yet.” He spoke against my mouth.

“But you said this was about me trying things. There’s something I want to try, Tommy.”

His eyes shut briefly, his jaw clenched, concentrated. He was coming undone for me in the same way I was for him. “What’s that?”

I ran my fingers over his collarbones, tracing the delicate bones with my fingers. I was nervous, forcing myself to push the words out anyway. “You know how when you were in high school being sneaky and fucking in a girl’s parents house was fun? And, sometimes, when the parents weren’t around you and the girl would sneak up to her parents’ room?”

His laps traveled over my jaw, down my neck, and I felt him smile against my skin. “You want me to fuck you in your parents’ bed?”

My face heated and I nodded, burying my face in his shoulder.

Tom laughed softly, pulling back and helping me off the counter. I was acutely aware of the fact that I was completely naked while he still wore jeans and black Calvin’s but I no longer cared. In fact, there may have been a part of me that enjoyed the way I felt knowing I was the only one who was naked. It made me feel small, soft.

“What are ya’ waitin’ for then?” He arched a brow and nodded towards the stairs. “Move your ass.”

I practically sprinted past him, moving before he even finished speaking. His eyes were on me as I moved, my hips swaying a little more than usual. Tom was hot on my heels as I bounded up the stairs, one of his hands reaching out and giving my ass a swift, harsh slap. I welcomed the sting, pausing on the stairs and turning to look at him as a gasp escaped.

“I fuckin’ knew it.” He marveled, a smirk playing at his lips. “I knew you liked it a little rough.”

I began backing slowly down the hall, facing him. “Oh, you have no idea.”

He arched a brow, molten brown eyes looking me up and down. “Is that right? You feel like telling me any of those deep, dark fantasies, or are we not there yet?”

I couldn’t help but laugh as he threw my words back at me. “Not yet. I like surprising you.”

I stepped into my parents’ room and Tom followed suit, looking around as the wind rattled the glass windows.

The air suddenly felt thick. The king sized bed loomed behind me and it all felt real. Terrifyingly, brutally real. I was about to get into that bed with Tom, I was about to take a huge step off a very large cliff. Whether it was good or bad- although I prayed it would be good- didn’t matter. We would never be able to come back from this.

“Believe me, you’ve done nothing but surprise me tonight, Y/N.”

“I actually think it’s your turn.” I said with a small smile as I crawled onto the bed, looking at him over my shoulder.

Tom was too busy taking in the view of my naked backside to comprehend my question. “What?”

I sprawled out across the bed and rested my chin on my hand, looking at him. His jeans were undone and his hardened cock pressed almost painfully against the denim material. “It’s your turn. I’ve been very honest about what I want to try, but what about you, Tommy? What do you want?”

His eyes locked on mine and my breath caught as he moved forward. “I want you. I want you to say my name while you come, I want you to wrap those beautiful legs around me and squeeze whenever I go just a little too deep. I want to fuck you the way I’ve dreamed about fucking you since I was fifteen years old.”

His candid admission left a pang in my heart and I quickly tried to stifle it, leaning up as he leaned down, our mouths fusing together once again. It seemed that I couldn’t keep my mouth off his. Maybe it was because I had been fantasizing about that mouth for so long, maybe it was because Tom was just that good of a kisser, but either way I didn’t care.

“Fuck me. Now.” The words were mumbled against his lips.

Tom’s lips traveled down my jaw to my neck and he bit the skin where my shoulder and neck connected. His sopping wet jeans pressed against me and I hissed out a breath as he pulled back, laughing down at me. His brown hair had begun to curl at the sides and he looked boyish, young. His cheeks were flushed and I couldn’t even remember why I’d tried to fight my attraction in the first place.

He jumped off the bed and began the painstaking effort of removing wet denim.

“God… fucking… dammit!” I watched him struggle, biting back a laugh as he hopped around the room, kicking one leg free and then the other. When he looked back up at me his eyes narrowed and he glared. “Are you laughing?”I shook my head, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth.“You’re laughing at me right now.”

I shook my head, backing up on the bed as Tom came forward. “No, no I’m not. I’m-” I shrieked as his hand wrapped around my ankle and he dragged me down the matress.

I struggled against him as he leaned over me, covering his body with mine as his hands tickled at my sides. I gasped and laughed, nearly headbutting him at one point. “Tom, please, I was-wasn’t laughing.” I was trying to explain myself when his hips settled between my thighs, his hard cock pressing against my clit, right where I was aching for any kind of attention, or friction, I could find.

“You’re not laughing anymore,” he whispered against my mouth.

“Not really finding anything to laugh at right now.” My response was just as quiet, my fingers linking behind his neck as he braced a hand on either side of my head. Our eyes met as he ground his hips against me, my mouth falling open in a quiet moan as Tom settled on a good rhythm. He wasn’t even inside me yet and I was already on the edge, my thighs trembling as they squeezed his trim waist.

Tom seemed just as eager as I was, his arms wrapping around me and then unwrapping, hands trailing up and down my sides, over my breasts, gripping my thighs. My own nails scratched lightly over his shoulders and I reveled in the way he shivered on top of me. His breathing was heavy, chest heaving as I lifted my hips, grinding harder, needing more.

“I…I don’t…” Tom trailed off and I stopped my movements.

My heart sank at his tone. He was about to tell me he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t sleep with his best friend’s sister. I, of course, would be mortified and naked and ashamed as he got dressed to inevitably leave, where he would get into a car accident and die because there was a storm raging outside. And then I would have to explain to my parents and Jordan that I killed Tom because I-

“I don’t have a condom.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom.”It was a split decision, and normally I would argue with myself about practicing the art of safe sex, but I had waited too fucking long for this and I was thankful that he wasn’t about to leave me naked in the middle of my parents’ bed.

“I’m on the pill.”

He arched a brow. “You’re cool with…”

I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t seen him bashful very often, but I had to admit I found it completely adorable. “Tommy, I’m cool with anything that involves you being inside me.”

“Thank fucking god.” He sat back on his knees between my splayed thighs and I watched as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, shoving them down so that his cock sprang free, slapping up against his abdomen. My eyes widened as I finally got the first glimpse of what had been grinding against me for the last thirty minutes, of what I’d been dreaming about all summer. His cock was long, a pulsating vein across his shaft.

My mouth watered at the sight of the pre-come that gathered at his crown and I reached forward with every intention of wrapping my fingers around him. But Tom’s hand snapped forward and he grabbed my wrist, halting my movements.

“I want this to last longer than fifteen seconds and, honestly, if you touch me right now I’m going to fucking explode all over you like a fifteen year old .I don’t want to ruin this.”

I looked up at him. He was panting, his cheeks tinted pink. He looked rumpled, worked up, his eyes dark, and I’d never wanted him more. Leaning up, I gave him a quick kiss on the lips, darting my tongue out to taste his quickly. “Get on with it then.”

Tom smiled against my mouth and then he was pushing me down again, covering his body with mine. His skin was warm and the hair on his legs tickled my thighs, but all I could really focus on was the deep, intense throbbing that had settled low in my stomach. I actually feared that I would die or combust if he didn’t fuck me so-

Too wrapped up in my aching body, I didn’t notice that Tom had reached between us and lined himself up at my entrance. When I felt his knuckles brush against my swollen clit I stiffened, a weak whine leaving my mouth.“I want to hear that fuckin’ noice on repeat for the rest of my life,” he whispered against the damp skin at my temple.

I was about to open my mouth and give a half assed witty response when I felt his body surge forward, his cock sinking into me in one long, swift, nearly painful because it was so good move. I gasped, my thighs squeezing Tom’s hips and my nails digging into his sides.

His groan in my ear sent vibrations through me and I shook underneath him, trying to find my breath, trying to acknowledge the fact that it was Tom inside me. Tom Holland. My brother’s best friend. But at that moment in time someone could tell me I didn’t actually have a brother and I would have believed them. I would have believed the moon was actually made of cheese. I would have believed anything… because none of it mattered.

In that moment the only two people who existed were Tom and me. Just us and the storm. “Tommy.” My voice shook as he pulled nearly all the way out, just holding the tip of his cock inside me.

Tom looked down at me with his eyebrows furrowed, mouth hanging open. He looked serious albeit desperate and I could completely understand why. It felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room as soon as he pushed inside me. “You good? You need a minute?”

I shook my head. “You feel so good.”

Something snapped in him then. I watched it happen. His eyebrows relaxed, the hands that were on either side of my head clenched into fists, and his hips snapped forward as he pushed in to the hilt, repeating the motion twice more before a rough grunt escaped his lips.

I slammed my head back against the pillows as a moan tore from my throat. He’d barely been inside me two minutes and I already felt like I was on the verge of an earth shattering orgasm. But it was true. Tom had kept me riled up so long, far longer than just this messy afternoon. My body had been waiting for this for so fucking long.

Tom’s teeth sank into my shoulder. Hard. He didn’t let up until I yelped, and then he pulled back with a devilish smirk. “Look at you,” he said, breathing heavily as he lowered his head, our noses brushing. “Screaming underneath me whilst I fuck you in your mum and dad’s bed. So, so naughty.”

He was taunting me, teasing me, and his words spurred me on. My hips lifted, another rough moan leaving my mouth at the new angle.

Tom must have liked it too, because soon enough he was thrusting so hard it nearly hurt, so hard I swore I could feel him in my stomach.“You’re. So. Fucking. Perfect.” His voice was gruff, the words barely audible. Our moans and breaths mingled, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. It may have been pornographic, may have been downright filthy, but I was too far gone to care.

I was fucking drowning in Tom.

So close to coming harder than I had in my entire life.

When he reached between us to rub his thumb over my clit it felt like too much, my back arching as I shook my head. “Tom, Tommy… no. I-”

“Shhh.” Tom’s focus was between us as he looked down, sliding his now soaking wet digit over my clit again, reveling in the way I shook under him. “Been dreaming of this for years. For years, Y/N.” He was so transfixed on looking down at where we were joined, I truly didn’t know if he realized he was speaking. “Do you want to come on my cock, love?”

He looked up at me then, our eyes meeting. His pupils were so blown out there was barely any brown left. No longer able to form a coherent sentence all I could do was nod.

“Good.” He pressed his thumb against my clit, harder than before, and watched my face as a scream erupted from me.

“Tom!” I went to grab his hand and he quickly grabbed hold of it with his free one, slamming it down against the mattress near my head, resting his full weight on me.

“You’re going to come for me just like this. My cock inside you, my hands all over you.” He released the hand he was holding and grabbed a hold of my hair, yanking my head back in a move that shocked me. I hadn’t expected him to be so rough, but the move sent pleasurable shockwaves through my scalp and down my back. I felt him everywhere.

I was close, so fucking close, words and moans and broken pleas leaving my mouth. I wanted it so bad I could cry, my desperation palpable as Tom trailed rough, wet kisses down my neck, never once letting up on my clit as his hips pistoned forward in short, quick strokes. He was close too, I could feel it in the way his pace began to stutter, in the way his breath was hitting my neck.

I ran my fingers through his thick hair and his pace quickened. “Come, Y/N, please.” Tom’s voice was raspy and I knew he was serious. He was waiting for me, holding back for me, wanting to please me… and somehow that was everything I needed to finally let go.

My orgasm hit me like a freight train, knocking the wind out of me. I came with a silent scream, my mouth falling open with no sound coming out, my breath stuck in my throat as Tom’s grip on my hair tightened. Vaguely, I could hear his name coming out of my mouth on repeat, my entire body tensing up underneath him. It was like nothing I’d ever felt, like every nerve in my body was on fire.

“Fuck… fuck… fuck.” Tom’s back muscles tensed under my hands, his entire body going still as he held himself deep inside me. The feeling of his pulsating cock sent delicious aftershocks through me and I clenched around him, loving the small groan that erupted from him as he slowly relaxed, resting his full weight on me with a long, heavy sigh.

We lay like that for a few minutes, the thunder and wind having calmed at some point during our tryst. Tom was resting his sweaty forehead on my chest and I ran my fingers through his hair as I stared up at the ceiling. Everything would be different now, everything would change. But I was too lost in my post orgasm glow to care much about anything.

“Was that too rough?” Tom’s voice was soft, the question catching me off guard.

“What?”

He lifted his head to look at me, shifting his body weight as he examined my face. “Was I too rough? I get carried away sometimes, don’t always know my own strength.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. If he only knew half the things I wanted to do to him, or what I wanted him to do to me. Shit. He’d probably have me arrested. “No, Tom, no. Believe me, it was perfect.”

He arched in eyebrow in a cocky way that only Tom fucking Holland could do. “Perfect?” His accent was thick. “Just wait for round two.”

I was about to respond when he leaned in for a kiss, capturing my lips and holding me right there in that moment with him. It was crazy, it was stupid, it was reckless. And I didn’t give a flying fuck.

A noise from downstairs startled us and I jumped. “It was probably just the wind.” Tom reassured me.

I nodded my head, but when I heard the telltale sign of keys hitting the countertop my heart leapt into my throat. “Tom? Y/N? You guys here?”

Tom’s eyes met mine and in unison, we said, “Jordan.”

Oh, fuck.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland au #au #spiderman #avengers #peter parker #i feel like im gonna throw up #why am i so nervous about this

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babysackville · 4 years

Text

Monday 4th August 1828

4 50/60

In spite of sprinkling my bed with vinegar bit last night - on the box of the Independent coach at 5 55/60 - stop 5 minutes at the great coach office higher up the street (Argyll street) opposite the tower - stop at 7 ½ at the Hamilton Arms, Hamilton, for 5 minutes but do not change horses till, after passing the fine 5 arch bridge over the Clyde and Evan, stop at Wishaw at 8 20/60 -

A native of Berlin on the coach - said the best part of the scenery on the Rhine was from Cologne to Colmar - he traveled per coach not like our coaches (the German malle poste in fact) carried only 9 passengers from Berlin to Cologne 80 German leagues or 400 English miles - Accum Frederick the book leaf stealing London Chemist, has built a house at Berlin - teaches English and chemistry - Humbolt gave gratis lectures twice a week last winter before the King and such as he chose to admit - going to publish a complete set of his works - set down our Berlinois and an Englishman at Cartland Crags to go down to the stonebyres falls, and stopped at the Clydesdale Inn, Lanark, at 9 50/60 - breakfast off again at 10 ¼ - in 3 or 4 minutes, right, ruined church, old Lanark burying ground - at 10 25/60 on 1 side the road (right) wall of the fir plantation (house not seen) of Bonniton (Lady Mary Ross) on the other (left) Lanark race ground one mile round a nice looking little course - said to be good races here - good red road, made of (said the coachman (sitting on my left) left handed - the 1st left handed coachman I ever saw in my life) burnt stone - all the stone hereabouts red sandstone - fine-ish open country - thorn hedges -

The mail had turned off 6 miles before Lanark and we should get into her road (for a little way) 17 miles from Lanark - at 10 35/60 cross the Clyde, Homeford bridge handsome 5 arch red sandstone bridge - at 10 55/60 sort of moor all round, partly cultivated partly sweet gale and heather closed by the Bigger hills in the distance - at 11 35/60 change horses at Chester Hall Inn (lone house) comfortable Inn enough coach from Edinburgh meets us here - take up passengers and luggage and off at 12 - between Hamilton and Lanark bull without horns, polled, i.e of the Galloway breed - never before saw a bull of this breed - cutting hay grass beyond Chester Hall Inn - Telford did the 8 miles of new road to Lanark and surveyed the whole line [?] from Sterling to Caerlisle 110 miles - at 12 35/60 pass over Duneaton bridge 3 arches over Duneaton river good river - falls into the Clyde just below the bridge -

At 1 12/60 change horse at Crawford - neat white Inn neat small church straw thatched partly blue-slated village - the ruin of Carwford castle (belonging to the Colebrooke family) just on the other side the Clyde (still a goodish river) neither large nor picturesque as seen from the village - more like the ruin of an old gable under house than a regular castle - a few old shabby trees around it and ? at a little distance a neatish white farm house nearly hid among the old trees and farm buildings - at Crawford (thro which the mail passes) the mail-road distance from Glasgow to Caerlisle is marked Glasgow 40, Caerlisle 54 = 94 miles; but the distance we go (vide itinerary) is about 119 miles - on asking the coachman why we did not as I had understood at Glasgow we should, pass thro’ Kilmarnock (22 miles from Glasgow) he merely said the coach did not go that way today - No Beauty in the vale of Clyde from Chester Hall Inn to here (Crawford) bleak, bare hills, goodish sheep-pasture and not very good land bottom - no wood - the hills nearer Crawford and beyond brown heathery wildish and bare a peat moss just on getting out of the village - no orchards all the way from Lanark neither did I see any about Hamilton - why Clydsdale the orchard of Scotland - no part left for it but the 14 ½ miles (charged 15 miles) from Lanark to Hamilton and in the 1st 2 miles from L-[anark] only saw to little orchards when there before -

Off from Crawford at 1 20/60 - at 1 35/60 2 roads that to the left, the mail road to Carlisle - we take that to the right, to Dumfries and pass over 1 arch stone bridge over broadish stream which most at a very short distance fall into the Clyde below - the village of Leadhills or 5 miles from where the 2 roads meet - Leadhills lies between us and Sanguhar (pronounced Sankar) Clyde close left, and handsome 3 arch bridge and Newton, Lord Newton, a good, comfortable-looking square, 3 story, red sandstone house (like an English shooting box) and small village of Ellwell foot consisting of ½ dozen straw thatched cottages and a white Inn - we had had rain but not much, from 11 20/60 from ¼ hour but it began to rain about 1 ¾ and rained very heavily for about an hour, however I was not much wet, I have my tartan cloak which was soaked thru’ wild, bleak, bare road (on the ascent) till about 2 ¾ when we reach the head of the glen of Dalveen where began the property of the Duke of Bucleugh - here too changes the course the waters which on the other side ran towards the glen the German ocean and here ran towards the Atlantic - the Curron run down along the glen - the lofty precipitous green mountains occasionally stripped with shingle, the narrow green glen with its little rapid stream (the Carron), the road gradually descending along the mountain side (made about 14 year ago) fenced off like the Simplon with set stones at 2 or 3 yards distance, the steep height above and the steep depth below, very fine - luckily the rain was rather abating and I could hold aside the umbrella to look about me - not expecting the fine glen perhaps it struck me more - in 10 minutes down the little white one-story Inn and turnpike (lone house) - change horses in 5 minutes and off again at 4 (peats here) in 5 minutes more turn left with the Carron and out of the glen of Dalveen [?] and enter wide bare-hilled valley along the bottom of which the Carron flows down a little shallow glen (as it were within the wider glen) unpicturesque because no wood till a mile or 2 from Drumlaurie castle (duke of Buchleugh) here we get pretty will wooded - a few gentle seats all along here and there from Glasgow but not in general conspicuous enough for me, on the top of a coach to note them down - Drumlanrick castle distance right , old house-like castle conspicuous among woods -

At 3 ¾ island in 2 or 3 minutes more pass thru’ the neat little village of Cornbrig or Thornbrig? (Slates or rather flags put on diamond-wise here and afterwards, because in the common way they will not drain each other so well) wildish, wide country bounded all by ranges of hill - pretty well wooded southwards - red sandstone fence walls and but few thorn hedges here and ever since leaving Dalveen - at 4 change horses at the very good village or nice neat little town (houses chiefly 1 story high) of Thornhill - old fluted column with sort of fret-work capital surmounted by a diminutive looking flying horse - stands on a high, large base a pedestal (hexagon?) 3 steps running all round it - called the market cross - red sandstone town, but mostly washed over and generally white -

Off at 4 10/60 - open habitable, green more populated country - peat moss just below the town - at 4 ¾ come down up the Neth, board good river - (the flat banks seem rather wooded and pretty) pass the 3 brothers (a fine large green oak of 3 exactly similar boles from 1 stock) and at 4 51/60 cross handsome, 3 arch, red sandstone bridge (Algirth bridge) over the Neth, and change horses at 4 55/60 at a mere cottage and little stable 8 miles from Dumfries - at 5 ¼ (little distance left) almost hid among the trees, Ellisland (6 miles from Dumfries) as (as pronounced) the farm occupied by the poet Robert Burns - the house and farmstead still as when he left it - at 5 35/60 see (left) in the distance beyond us peeping from among the trees, the ruins of what the coachman calls the Old College of Dumfries - Cross and Clooton (as pronounced) over 1 large arched red sand stone bridge and pass thro’ the small village of Clooton - prettyish or fineish drive from our 1st coming down upon the Neth to Dumfreis and goodish land 3 or 4 miles from Dumfries - Cross fine 7 arch red sandstone bridge (an older red sand stone bridge of 7 arches at a little distance right also over the Neth) over the Neth (fine river here) and enter Dumfries, and stop at the Kings arms at 6 - very civil people and could have staid there comfortably seems a good inn - excellent hodge podge and some hot roast beef and a little baked pudding but hardly time to eat - dined in 12 minutes - had been quarter hour upstairs changing the paper of my napkin much of my cousin -

Nothing to see in the town, but Burns’ monument in the old church yard - 3 churches (all and town too red sandstone) with neat spires - very nice, neat, pretty town - no trade - depends on its cattle market - great market for pigs from Ireland - Thorn hedges and fertile all (off from Dumfries at 6 ½) round the town - save where the large peat moss just out of the town, and now so accustomed to this can scarce think the comforts of a Scottish town secure with a peat moss - capital road - white villages and houses scattered all around - very few horned cattle - the polled all here abouts i.e the Galloway breed - asked if they were good milk cows, yes! but excellent beef - at 6 55/60 1st turnpike from Dumfries - 2 roads - left 16 miles to Annan - hilly - the mail road - could go the other in as little time, but several gentleman’s seats that way, and ‘it suits’ to have a church on each road - right, our road, 17 miles but pay only ½ toll that way - from here the country plain, flat, not wooded - nor pretty neither picturesque -

At 7 10/60 see the Solway Firth and 2 stooks of oats cut - had ask before why so corn was so much forwarded than the rest, particularly 1 patch of oats quite yellow,and another close to it quite dark green - ‘Oh! because the land’ (of the yellow oats) ‘was lighter’ - at 7 35/60 change horses at the end of the little white village of Clarensfield (as pronounced) - Pass close under the very neat good and small white row of houses called Cumertree and at 8 ½ cross 3 arch red sandstone bridge over the river Annan and enter the good red sandstone but pretty white washed, town of Annan - handsome church steeple - the towns always better as nearer England small coal smoke here - off at 8 40/60 - getting too dusky to see much - disappointed that we do not pass thro’ the village of Gretna Green but change horses at 9½ at a little white Inn by the road side ¼ or ½ mile from the village - the mail changes at the Inn (excellent built by Col. Maxwell to whom Gretna belongs for himself but his wife did not like it so let it for an Inn and it is one of the best on the road) in the village -

At 9 50/60 at the last turnpike in Scotland - the girl gave the coachman whisky - 4/. per gallon duty on it in England, and not drinkable there - so tasted with the coachman by way of adieu to Scotland and her whiskey, thou’ I had been all along the road musing whether to go from Carlisle to Selkirk (6 miles from Melrose Abbey and 60 miles from C-[aerlisle] according to the coachman) per mail which leaves C-[aerlisle] every morning at 7 for Edinburgh - I ought to have gone from Glasgow to Edinburgh and thence by Selkirk, but feared time and knew not exactly the mail-road - almost immediately after leaving the last turnpike cross bridge over the Sark another great stream that here parts England from Scotland - soon afterwards pass the cast iron bridge (one of the 1st of these bridges) over the broad Eske - the tide comes up as far as here - tis called the head of the Solway Firth said our coachman -

Heavyish rain for about 20 minutes before getting into Carlisle - alight at the blank space a second rate sort of not very comfortable coach house at 10 50/60 - by the negligence of the guard my box (caravan) of light things taken off and left at Dumfries - to have at 5 p.m. tomorrow - so I must stay here whether I would or not - about 1 ¼ hours heavy rain early in the afternoon (vide above) but very fine evening from about 5 to 10 ½ and fine morning till it began to look threatening about 11 -

[Left margin: about ¼ hour or perhaps 20 minutes passing the glen of Dalveen - maybe about 2 miles long of fin[?] [?] perhaps a mile of the very fine? the Carron falls into the Neth]

(Diary reference: SH7MLE110041 & SH7MLE110042)

#1828 #august #scotland #anne lister #anne lister code breaker

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kusunogatari · 5 years

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[ ObiRyū October | Day Eight: The New Chicken Coop ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Suigin Reiji ] [ Verse: White Hands of Healing ] [ Previous || Next ]

“Reiji!”

Mind urged from a book he’s reading, perched on his belly atop his bed, the boy looks up at his father’s voice in his doorway. “Tōchan?”

Obito gives a grin, and Reiji already knows what that means: they’re going to get into mischief. “Hey! Come with me for a minute - I need your help.”

Brow wilting just a hair, Reiji considers his book for a moment before marking the page, shimmying off the bed and crossing to the door. “What are we doing…?”

“We need to get supplies.”

“...supplies?”

“You and I have a project today. We’re going to build something in the backyard.”

That gets him to perk up. Build something…? He’s never built anything before! “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Oh, he’s heard that before. Tilting his head with a skeptical look, Reiji asks, “...does kāchan know what we’re doin’...?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if she did, right? Come on! We need to get everything we need so we can start!”

Heaving a light sigh, Reiji follows and puts on his shoes before the pair head into the village proper. It’s a pretty day, and Obito soon leads them to a lumberyard, discussing requirements with an employee. In the meantime, Reiji looks around curiously at all of the stock.

“Hey! We’re all done.”

...well that was fast. Moving dutifully back to his father’s side, Reiji pauses. “...where’s the stuff?”

Obito holds up a scroll. “In here!”

“...huh?”

“It’s a sealing scroll. You can store things in it with sealing jutsu! That way we won’t have to carry it all by hand.”

“...oh!” Still in the Academy, Reiji hasn’t learned that much yet. But...it does make him wonder why he had to come along if a person can carry it all by themselves… Either way, he trots obediently beside Obito, doing his best to keep up with his father’s longer strides.

Soon enough, they’re back in the yard, and Obito unseals all of their things. Wood, nails, hinges, some roofing shingles, and even some wire fencing is soon laid out in the grass. Crouching beside it, Reiji looks up. “...what’s all this for?”

“We,” Obito announces, tucking away the scroll, “are going to build...a chicken coop!”

“...chicken…?” Dark greys widen. “...really?”

“Yes!”

“...is that okay?” He’s never seen any chickens inside Konoha before...just out in the farms beyond the village wall. Dogs and cats, sure...even owls like his mother’s summon. Maybe a chicken isn’t that different from an owl…?

“Bah, it will be fine,” Obito counters, waving a hand. “You sound like your mother with all of your worrying.”

“I don’t wanna get in trouble!”

“We won’t get in trouble, Reiji. It’s not like we’re going to have a big farm in our backyard! Just a few. No one will even notice!”

That...doesn’t totally reassure the boy, but...well, hopefully Obito knows what he’s doing.

“Now, you will be my little helper. I’ll do most of the building, and you manage our supplies, all right?”

“O...okay.”

“Now, first, we have to build the walls…”

As Obito follows a guidebook that was in with the wood, Reiji eagerly fetches whatever his father asks, watching with curious eyes as he slowly begins to put everything together. What starts as piles of parts soon transforms into a little house…!

Nailing on the shingles, Obito holds a few tacks between his lips, hammering as Reiji keeps him supplied with the strips. They took a short lunch break quite some time ago, and he knows it won’t be long until his mother gets home. They’re almost done...maybe they’ll finish before she arrives?

“Ne, tōchan…”

“Hm?”

“So, how are we gonna get chickens for the chicken house?”

“Just buy some, of course. We’ll get them as little babies, and raise them up!”

“...babies?” His eyes go round. “Will they be small…?”

“Very small. So you have to be careful with them! We’ll have to keep them inside for a while until they get bigger, and it gets warmer. If they get too cold, they’ll die.”

The blunt mention of death makes Reiji jolt a bit. “O-oh…”

That earns a glance from his father. “...we might still lose some regardless, but...we’ll do our best, right?”

“...right.”

“And...what do you two think you’re doing?”

The pair both turn to see Ryū standing in the backdoor frame, arms loosely crossed with a perked brow and weary smile.

“Kāchan!” Reiji chirps, smiling at his mother. “We’re making a chicken house!”

“Oh, are you now?” Ryū’s eyes move from her son to her husband, still smirking. “Funny...I didn’t know we had any chickens who needed a house…”

Obito pouts. “Well, not yet…”

Ryū heaves a light sigh. “Is it even legal to have livestock in this part of the village?”

And...there it is. She’s echoing her son, as per usual. Obito gives a small groan and a roll of his eyes. “I think the village has bigger worries than a handful of chickens in someone’s backyard! You and Reiji both worry too much.”

“It’s to make up for your not worrying enough,” she counters with a laugh, only half serious.

“...I worry about plenty of things.”

“Oh?”

“...well, two things.”

A white brow perks.

After a slight pause, Obito points. “One,” he offers, pointing at Ryū, who goes pink. “Two,” is the addition, pointing to Reiji.

Something seems to still in Ryū for a moment, gaze suddenly miles away. As Reiji looks from her to his father, he sees a similar look.

...what’s going on…?

But then the moment passes, and they seem to snap out of it. “...oh, all right - fair enough,” Ryū concedes, shrugging. “But if Kakashi comes knocking with a warrant of arrest for your chickens, that’s on you.”

“Bakakashi has far bigger problems than my chickens.”

“...I wanna pet a chicken!” Reiji then blurts, earning looks from both his parents...and then laughter.

“Well, I’ll bring some home soon,” Obito promises, ruffling the boy’s two-tone locks and eliciting a giggle. “For now, we still have work to do!”

They finish up the roof, and then work on stringing up the fence and putting up a gate to get in. By sundown, the coop is pretty much done.

“Now all it needs is some chickens!”

Busy with work for the next few days, Obito finally has time to visit one of Konoha’s outlying farms, and returns with a box, grinning widely.

Excitement evident, Reiji swiftly hops from foot to foot as his father sets the box down in the sitting room. He can already hear soft peeps, and a small flutter erupts in his chest!

Then off comes the lid, and an assortment of little chicks startle at the movement. They’re so small…! A few red, yellow, brown, black...about a dozen little birds stare up at them curiously.

“...oh…” Crouched beside the box, Reiji looks up in wonder to his father. “Can...can I hold one?”

“Be very careful - they’re fragile.” Reaching in, he scoops a little blond chick, depositing it in Reiji’s cupped hands.

Ever so gently, Reiji brings them up toward his chest, resting on the balls of his feet and staring. The little chick bobs its head, looking around and stumbling with novelty over the palms of his hands. Having never held anything so small before, Reiji sits still, diligently watching to make sure he doesn’t drop them.

Watching his son for a moment, Obito asks, “So…? What do you think?”

There’s a pause...and then a small sniff. Bringing up his face, Reiji startles his father with tearful eyes and a trembling chin. “It’s...so small, tōchan…! I...I love it a lot…”

Obito blinks, not expecting such an emotional reaction. But...well, he is Ryū’s son, and something tells him she’ll be just as overwhelmed by them when she gets home. And...he might’ve sniffled like that when he was Reiji’s age. Watching as the boy gently nuzzles the chick to his cheek, Obito gives a soft huff of a laugh. “Yes, they’re...very small.”

A few hours later, handing Ryū one of the reddish birds, he watches as she too gets misty-eyed. “...oh my gosh…”

“...why is everyone so emotional over chickens?”

“Because they’re tiny and cute and soft!”

They remain indoors for a little over a week, and then get moved out, a weak heat lamp (wary of fires) in one corner to make sure they don’t get too cold. Every day when he gets home from the Academy, Reiji hurries to the backyard to check on them and give them pets.

“...sooo…?”

Standing out a window and watching, Ryū turns to see Obito smirking at her cheekily. “...what?”

“Admit it.”

“...admit what?”

“It was a good idea.”

She gives a soft snort. “...all right, all right. It was a good idea.”

“See! I have lots of good ideas!”

“You do! And then you have some iffy ones,” she retorts with a grin, laughing as he pouts and latches onto her waist, chin on her shoulder. “...but yes, this one was good. But you do realize this means teaching him later about what it means to eat one, right?”

“Of course. He’ll do fine.”

“...you told me he cried when he held one the first time. It’s not going to be easy.”

“So did you!”

“But I’ve also prepared my own food from that level before! Just...be gentle with him.”

“Bah...it’s part of growing up.”

Looking to him thoughtfully, Ryū murmurs, “...I know. I just...don’t want things to be as...difficult for him as they were for us, ne? I want him to be able to take things slow. Be a kid for a while. No need to rush him into being an adult so fast, right?”

Obito half-hums, half-grumbles. “...we’ll see.”

Another snort, leaning her cheek to his. “...everything’s going to be better for him.”

“...it is.”

“...we’ll make sure of it.”

Ehehe, fluff x3 So this is sort of just...expanding on a few asks on the subject: adding a little more substance and some additional context. I'd say Reiji is about...six or seven here? New in the Academy and still a pretty small kiddo. It's about time Reiji has something along the lines of a pet! Even though...he might end up eating some of them. But hey, that's part of life. He'll have to learn about mortality one of these days. And this is a lot easier than OTHER methods. He doesn't get Suzume until he's a few years older, so...chickens will do for now lol Buuut yeah, not much else to say: just some famjam fluff, which is always good x3 Thanks for reading!

#obiryū october #abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #suigin ryū #suigin reiji #white hands of healing [ canon verse ]

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thestudentarchitect · 5 years

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Tips for Existing Conditions Surveys

By Chelsea Weibust 04/23/2019

Each project is totally different, from the information available, scope of work, schedule, etc. It's important to know the purpose of your site visit before you head out to the site.

Sometimes when you have a site visit you'll have access to detailed existing drawings. They may be just printed drawing sets or PDF's, or ideally they'd be CAD or Revit drawings. Other times you won't be given any information at all. In the latter case, it's a good idea to check out Google Maps and Tax Assessor information to get an idea of the size, shape, materiality, aesthetic, context, etc. of the building before your visit.

You may need to sketch the plans and elevations on site so be sure to bring a clipboard and graph paper for sketching and notes.

Another consideration is the scope of the project. If the project focus is strictly on interior work then you shouldn’t spend too much time documenting exterior conditions - just stick to the basics. The same is true to strictly exterior projects. If you're working on a deck renovation then documenting a ton of interior information will be a waste of time, unless of course it’s related to the project. [Full disclosure: some of the links below are affiliate links.]

Here are some tips and tricks I’ve picked up from doing existing conditions surveys.

General Survey Information:

Make sure to write the date, location, and project name of the site visit on each sheet in case there's any question in the future about when the existing conditions survey was taken or what project the drawings are from. Also, write what each drawing shows, i.e. first floor plan, exterior dimensions, section through living room, etc. It may also be helpful in some cases to write the names of the people at the site visit for future reference.

Color Coding:

Sometimes existing conditions surveys will have a ridiculous amount of information and it can be tough to decipher between vertical dimensions, horizontal dimensions, opening dimensions, structural elements, etc. For this reason I like to use color and thickness variations for distinctions. For example, I like to switch between a thick black pen/marker* and a multicolored pen* to make it easy to switch between colors quickly. You can color code your notes however you like but you may want to make a legend so anyone who might look at your drawings will understand them. Here’s how I color code my surveys:

Black marker/pen: exterior walls

Black pen: horizontal dimensions, general notes, interior walls, cabinets and fixtures

Green pen: vertical dimensions (heights), spot elevations

Blue pen: window and door types, overall dimensions

Red pen: center line dimensions, mechanical elements, structural elements

Dimensions:

Write dimensions perpendicular to the dimension string in areas where you have a cluster of dimensions so you can fit all of the information.

Units:

Be consistent with how you're writing dimensions and make sure if using a laser measuring* tool that it's set to the same units you've been using. Most of the time I find it's best to write in only inches. Other times I like to write in feet and inches but when I use these units I'm careful not to use ticks for feet and inches (1' - 3 1/2") because the ticks could be mistaken for numbers. Instead, I like to keep it simple and write them like: 1 - 3.5 (0 - 4.75 if no feet) so that there's no confusion with ticks or fractions being misinterpreted.

Vertical Dimensions:

It's easy to remember to take horizontal dimensions to get wall placements and openings but something that can easily be forgotten are vertical dimensions. Ceiling heights, soffits, window sill and header heights, door heights, openings, floors, etc. can easily be overlooked until you're at your desk modeling the building.

Continue reading below

Do you have all of these helpful tools for doing existing conditions surveys?

Sections, Elevations & 3D Views:

Don’t limit yourself to drawing in plan. Some information is better represented in section like roof/ceiling slopes, floor to floor heights, soffit heights, stairs, bump outs, etc. You might also find a quick 3D sketch or elevation can be helpful too.

Storyboard:

If you're short on time or are looking to get a set of dimensions that don't have to be totally accurate you can take a picture of a storyboard to get accurate enough information. To do this, hold the tape measure against whatever it is you want to dimension and take a picture of it. Try to set the camera as parallel to the tape as possible so you don't distort the image.

In the image shown you can see we wanted to quickly get the dimensions of an existing railing on a roof deck. You can see clearly the center lines of the pipes, the diameter of the pipes, and the overall height of the railing.

Topography:

Pay attention to the topography and make note of the elevation of the ground in relation to the bottom of siding material at each corner of the building, at the very least.

Material Dimensions:

Note materials and dimensions - if masonry, measure and make note of the size of the blocks used. If lap siding, shingle siding, etc. make note of the reveal and material. This will be really helpful if you need to figure out heights if you forget to measure something or just want to verify dimensions. Since reveals can vary on each course, a handy tricks is to measure the height of 10 courses and divide that number by 10 to get a more accurate gauge.

You can see from the photo that 10 courses of this siding is 27 1/8” which is roughly a 2 3/4” reveal per course.

Photos:

Often one of my biggest frustrations when reviewing site visit information is not having enough photos. Anytime I'm on a site visit, I'll leave with hundreds of photos and somehow it's still not enough! There's always some wonky condition that I didn't get a great photo of or I needed a picture just 4 inches to the right. Go out of your way to take more photos than you might think you need from different angles, perspectives, and distances. Nowadays we have awesome smartphones that are capable of high quality photos, panoramas, and even videos! Videos can be especially helpful when walking through the building with an owner or consultant (with permission) so you can take note of what was discussed so you don’t have to take as many notes! I personally prefer to use my iPhone or a small point and shoot* that’s not too heavy and can be easily tucked away when not in use. I once had a project where we had to survey hundreds of windows for a renovation project and most windows were totally different conditions. We needed multiple detail photos of each window. This would've been an almost impossible task to keep track of each individual window but luckily I had a Samsung Note phone with a pen so I was able to take a photo of each window, take a screenshot, and make a note on each photo which window it was. I'm not sure what we would've done otherwise but I was so thankful to have that phone at that moment! We also had a google docs spreadsheet open on my iPad to document information about the windows rather than writing it on paper so we wouldn't have to duplicate our work in transferring written notes to the computer. So in short, I guess I'm saying to make the most of your technology!

Locate Photos:

Mark interesting things on your plans that will make it easier for you or someone else to orient themselves while looking through the photos later. Maybe it's a painting on a wall, a red sweatshirt hanging on a pipe, a stain on the ceiling, etc. but it should be something distinct that will help place tricky conditions in photos on the plans. If you're taking detail photos, remember to step back and take context photos so you can locate them later.

The photo below shows a steel rod tied to the roof rafters which was holding up the 2nd floor of a old home. This was both fascinating and terrifying (since the house needed significant repair) but we needed to be sure to mark the locations of these rods on the plans. This picture is great to see the detail of how the tensile system works but doesn’t help at all in telling us where this rod is located. So on the floor plan I made a note on the plan with a star and a cone (<) showing the direction of the photo, saying something like “steel rod tied to roof structure, tension wheel” and this was really helpful because none of the other pictures of the rods showed the wheel or tensile system and now we knew exactly where it was and what direction we were looking.

Locating pictures on plans is really only necessary in tricky areas like basements, attics, eaves, or in monotonous buildings where a lot of spaces look exactly the alike, so try not to go overboard with this.

BONUS: Tips for You

Backpack:

I recommend carrying a small bag with you while on site visits to hold extra tools and whatever else you may have. I suggest using a small backpack* rather than something like a messenger bag since it wont get in the way.

Snacks:

Maybe I'm the only one who thinks about food constantly, but I always find it's a good idea to keep a couple snacks with me on a site visit. Sometimes things take longer than expected and you don't want to be famished, trying to rush through your survey so you can get a bite to eat. It can't hurt to throw a couple granola bars and a water in your bag, right?

Dress Appropriately:

If it's the middle of winter and you're surveying a building without heat, you're going to want to dress in lot's of warm layers. Be sure to check the weather beforehand so you know if it's supposed to rain (and will need rain gear and umbrella), if it's going to be brutally cold (and need hats, gloves, scarves, lots of layers, etc.), if it's going to be windy (and you need a windbreaker and extra clips to attach papers to your clipboard)... you get the idea

Shoes:

Two things you need to consider about footwear are safety and comfort. You should never wear open toed shoes or high heels to a site visit, there are just too many things that could go wrong. You're probably going to be walking around for hours, sometimes crawling around in icky places, and potentially walking on unstable surfaces or trekking through the mud. Opt for comfortable sneakers or boots.

Good luck on future surveys!

- Chelsea

More posts you might like:

#architecture #survey #existing conditions survey #existing conditions #tips and tricks #tools #measuring tools #architecture tools #building survey #dimensions #design #architecture supplies #thestudentarchitect #the student architect

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orbemnews · 3 years

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Millions Are Skipping Their Second Doses of Covid Vaccines Millions of Americans are not getting the second doses of their Covid-19 vaccines, and their ranks are growing. More than five million people, or nearly 8 percent of those who got a first shot of the Pfizer or Moderna vaccines, have missed their second doses, according to the most recent data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. That is more than double the rate among people who got inoculated in the first several weeks of the nationwide vaccine campaign. Even as the country wrestles with the problem of millions of people who are wary about getting vaccinated at all, local health authorities are confronting an emerging challenge of ensuring that those who do get inoculated are doing so fully. The reasons vary for why people are missing their second shots. In interviews, some said they feared the side effects, which can include flulike symptoms. Others said they felt that they were sufficiently protected with a single shot. Those attitudes were expected, but another hurdle has been surprisingly prevalent. A number of vaccine providers have canceled second-dose appointments because they ran out of supply or didn’t have the right brand in stock. Walgreens, one of the biggest vaccine providers, sent some people who got a first shot of the Pfizer or Moderna vaccine to get their second doses at pharmacies that only had the other vaccine on hand. Several Walgreens customers said in interviews that they scrambled, in some cases with help from pharmacy staff, to find somewhere to get the correct second dose. Others, presumably, simply gave up. From the outset, public health experts worried that it would be difficult to get everyone to return for a second shot three or four weeks after the first dose. It is no surprise that, as vaccines are rolled out more broadly, the numbers of those skipping their second dose have gone up. But the trend is nonetheless troubling some state officials, who are rushing to keep the numbers of only partly vaccinated people from swelling. In Arkansas and Illinois, health officials have directed teams to call, text or send letters to people to remind them to get their second shots. In Pennsylvania, officials are trying to ensure that college students can get their second shots after they leave campus for the summer. South Carolina has allocated several thousand doses specifically for people who are overdue for their second shot. Mounting evidence collected in trials and from real-world immunization campaigns points to the peril of people skipping their second doses. Compared with the two-dose regimen, a single shot triggers a weaker immune response and may leave recipients more susceptible to dangerous virus variants. And even though a single dose provides partial protection against Covid, it’s not clear how long that protection will last. “I’m very worried, because you need that second dose,” said Dr. Paul Offit, a professor at the University of Pennsylvania and a member of the Food and Drug Administration’s vaccine advisory panel. What You Need to Know About the Johnson & Johnson Vaccine Pause in the U.S. On April 23, a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention panel of advisers voted to recommend lifting a pause on the Johnson & Johnson Covid vaccine and adding a label about an exceedingly uncommon but potentially dangerous blood clotting disorder. Federal health officials are expected to formally recommend that states lift the pause. Administration of the vaccine ground to a halt recently after reports emerged of a rare blood clotting disorder in six women who had received the vaccine. The overall risk of developing the disorder is extremely low. Women between 30 and 39 appear to be at greatest risk, with 11.8 cases per million doses given. There have been seven cases per million doses among women between 18 and 49. Nearly eight million doses of the vaccine have now been administered. Among men and women who are 50 or over, there has been less than one case per million doses. Johnson & Johnson had also decided to delay the rollout of its vaccine in Europe amid similar concerns, but it later decided to resume its campaign after the European Union’s drug regulator said a warning label should be added. South Africa, devastated by a more contagious virus variant that emerged there, also suspended use of the vaccine but later moved forward with it. The stakes are high because there is only one vaccine authorized in the United States that is given as a single shot. The use of that vaccine, made by Johnson & Johnson, was paused this month after it was linked to a very rare but serious side effect involving blood clotting. Federal health officials on Friday recommended restarting use of the vaccine, but the combination of the safety scare and ongoing production problems is likely to make that vaccine a viable option for fewer people. The C.D.C.’s count of missed second doses is through April 9. It covers only people who got a first Moderna dose by March 7 or a first Pfizer dose by March 14. While millions of people have missed their second shots, the overall rates of follow-through, with some 92 percent getting fully vaccinated, are strong by historical standards. Roughly three-quarters of adults come back for their second dose of the vaccine that protects against shingles. In some cases, problems with shipments or scheduling may be playing a role in people missing their second doses. Some vaccine providers have had to cancel appointments because they did not receive expected vaccine deliveries. People have also reported having their second-dose appointments canceled or showing up only to find out that there were no doses available of the brand they needed. Some people can be flexible about being rebooked. But that’s harder for people who lack access to reliable transportation or who have jobs with strictly scheduled hours, said Elena Cyrus, an infectious disease epidemiologist at the University of Central Florida. Updated April 24, 2021, 10:42 p.m. ET Walgreens booked some customers for their second appointments at places that didn’t have the same vaccine that they had received for their initial doses. The company said it fixed the problem in late March. Susan Ruel, 67, was scheduled to get her two vaccine doses at different Walgreens stores in Manhattan. She said she got her first Pfizer dose without incident in February, but when she arrived for her second appointment, she was told that the store only had Moderna doses in stock. A Walgreens pharmacist told Ms. Ruel that there was another Walgreens pharmacy less than two miles away with Pfizer doses in stock. While Ms. Ruel was waiting for the subway to take her there, she got a phone call: That Walgreens store had run out of Pfizer doses, too. Ms. Ruel managed to get the Pfizer dose at yet another Walgreens the next day. But she said many people in her situation probably wouldn’t have tried so hard. “All you need is hassles like this,” she said. In the Chicago area, for example, pharmacists at two Walgreens locations said the problem was causing headaches. They said that Walgreens’ appointment system was sending each pharmacy anywhere from 10 to 20 customers a week who need a second Pfizer shot, even though both pharmacies stock only the Moderna vaccine. It is not clear how widespread the Walgreens dose-matching problem has been or how many people have missed their second doses because of it. Jim Cohn, a spokesman for Walgreens, said that the problem affected “a small percentage” of people who had booked their appointments online and that the company contacted them to reschedule “in alignment with our vaccine availability.” He said that nearly 95 percent of people who got their first shot at Walgreens have also received their second shots from the company. Walgreens has also come under fire for, until recently, scheduling second doses of the Pfizer vaccine four weeks after the first shot, rather than the three-week gap recommended by the C.D.C. Pharmacists have been besieged by customers complaining, including about their inability to book vaccine appointments online. In other cases, though, access to vaccines is not the sole barrier; people’s attitudes contribute, too. Basith Syed, a 24-year-old consultant in Chicago, nabbed a leftover Moderna vaccine at a Walgreens in mid-February. But when the time came for his second shot, he was busy at work and preparing for his wedding. After the first shot, he had spent two days feeling drained. He didn’t want to risk a repeat, and he felt confident that a single dose would protect him. “I didn’t really feel the urgency to get that second dose,” Mr. Syed said. By early April, his schedule had calmed down a little, and he went looking for a second Moderna shot. But by then, the Walgreens where he had gotten his first shot was only offering Pfizer shots. He couldn’t find slots at other Walgreens stores. Mr. Syed is no longer actively looking for a second shot, though he still hopes to eventually get one. . The C.D.C. says there is limited data on the vaccine’s effectiveness when shots are separated by more than six weeks, although some countries, including Britain and Canada, are giving shots with a gap of up to three or four months. Mr. Syed’s experience is part of a broader shift in Illinois. When vaccines were mostly being given to health care workers, residents of long-term care facilities and people over 65, almost everyone was getting their second shots. In recent weeks, though, the number dipped below 90 percent, though it has since rebounded slightly, according to the Illinois Department of Public Health. In Arkansas, about 84,000 people have missed their second shots, representing 11 percent of those eligible for those shots, said Dr. Jennifer Dillaha, the state epidemiologist. Workers recently began calling people who are due or overdue for their second shots. College students pose a particular challenge. Many recently became eligible to be vaccinated and are getting their first shots, but they will have left campus by the time they are due for their second doses. In Pennsylvania, health officials have instructed vaccine providers to give second doses to college students even if they did not receive their first doses from that location. Some vaccine providers have put on special clinics for people who need a second dose. In South Carolina, the health system Tidelands Health started a program specifically for people who received their first Pfizer doses more than 23 days earlier but hadn’t been able to find a second shot. The state health department sent the health system 2,340 doses for the effort. Demand has been strong, and Tidelands only has a few hundred doses left. The majority of takers have been people who “were having difficulty navigating all the various scheduling systems and providers,” said Gayle Resetar, the health system’s chief operating officer. In many cases, vaccine providers had canceled second-dose appointments because of bad winter weather. “It was up to the individual to reschedule themselves on a web portal or web platform, and that just became difficult for people,” Ms. Resetar said. There are rare cases in which people are supposed to forgo the second shot, such as if they had an allergic reaction after their first shot. Zvi Ish-Shalom, a religious studies professor from Boulder, Colo., had planned to get fully vaccinated. Then, an hour after his first shot of the Moderna vaccine, he developed a headache that hasn’t gone away more than a month later. There is no way to know for sure whether the vaccine triggered the headache. But after weighing what he saw as the risks and benefits of a second dose, Dr. Ish-Shalom reached a decision about how to proceed. “At this point in time, I feel very clear and very comfortable, given all the various elements of this equation, to forgo the second shot,” he said. Source link Orbem News #Covid #Doses #Millions #skipping #Vaccines

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shipmistress9 · 6 years

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What it means to be Chief - Epilogue 2: Being Chiefess

Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4;

Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8;

Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12

Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Chapter 15; Chapter 16

Chapter 17; Epilogue 1

A/N: Alright, here you go. The first real epilogue. Plot and smut... have fun ;P And as warning again: There is another epilogue before this one!

. o O o .

"What's he doing there?"

"Sleeping. I guess the girl keeps them up all night" Low chuckling rang through the room but didn't reach Hiccup's conscious thoughts.

"Yeah. Astrid fell asleep right away too when I left. But he should at least lie down or he'll hurt all over when he wakes" A moment later, Hiccup felt a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake. "Chief?" Groaning, he blinked and slowly lifted his head to squint into Helka's concerned face.

"Mmmwhat?" he murmured, still lightheaded. Gods, he was tired! Why couldn't people let him have at least an hour of sleep?

"No offence, but you should go to bed and sleep," she said and Hiccup frowned in confusion. Wasn't that what he'd been doing right now? Dizzily, he looked around. He was in the Hofferson's living room with the big open fire- and cooking-place, sitting on a bench with his head and upper body resting on the table in front of him. His right arm lay in the low crib at his side, his hand holding Faye's. With a loving smile, he looked down at his daughter. The little monster was finally asleep and by all means looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth!

Millimeter by careful millimetre, he drew his hand away and couldn't help the relieved sigh when he was free and Faye still asleep. Then he looked back up at Helka and Brenna who stood a little behind her sister with a worried look.

"What's up?" he asked quietly. "Did something happen?" If not then he hoped they had an incredibly good reason for waking him!

"No, nothing happened," Helka said equally quietly. "Besides, isn't it your day off? I'm sure whatever happens, Gobber can take care of it! I just thought you might have a better rest in a bed? There are free ones upstairs, you can use any of them"

Hiccup rubbed his eyes and quietly got up on his legs again. Right, it was his day off. On two days per week, Gobber took over any chiefly duties and gave Hiccup the dearly needed time to care for his little family. Today was a special day though.

"How's Astrid?" he asked, suppressing a yawn as he climbed over the bench and stretched. Helka was right, he should use this day to catch up on some sleep but couldn't bring himself to do so. Surely, there were other things he could do, more useful things. Maybe replace the broken shingles on their roof before the winter came in full force or repair that loose shutter upstairs. There was always so much to do!

"She's fine. All healed up," Helka said, confirming what Astrid had hoped for. The postnatal period was over and if Astrid felt like it, she was allowed to do exercises and even fly regularly again. The bleeding had stopped about two weeks ago and now, Helka had made if official.

"That's good news! Astrid was thrilled, I guess? Did she go flying right away? She so missed doing that!" Hiccup smiled to himself. Her flying after him right after Faye's birth hadn't done her any favours and he still felt sorry for making her do so. She might have been up for weeks already if that flight hadn't further hurt her torn body.

"Actually, no," Helke smirked wryly. "She stayed in bed after I examined her and was asleep before I even left the room. And I meant it, you should do the same if I may say so. Doctor's order!"

A small smile tugged at Hiccup's lips. Right, Astrid had to be just as tired as he was if not even more so. They both adored Faye but it would be nice if the girl would let them sleep for longer than two hours in a row. At least once! He ran his fingers through his hair to chase away the last bits of sleepiness for the moment. "Then I'll do that," he gave in. No complaining there! "Let's just hope Faye stays asleep until I get her to her bed" He bent to carefully lift his daughter out of the crib but Brenna waved him off.

"Just let her sleep here. I can take care of her when she wakes and you two can pick her up after you had a good rest for once. Odin knows you need it!"

Hiccup couldn't argue against that. He only hesitated for a moment, his sense of duty telling him that it was his responsibility to look after his daughter. But, surely, letting her grandmother do so for a while wasn't a capital offence to the gods, right? In fact, it was fairly normal for the older ones to take care of the children while the younger adults worked, he knew that. He nodded with a grateful smile and left the house. Once outside, he felt strangely anxious. He knew that Brenna and Helka were well able to care for a baby. And it wasn't as if Faye wasn't used to their presence. It was just… weird to leave her. But then, they all would need to get used to that when Astrid would return to her former duties now.

Hiccup stretched once before he made his way up to their house. It wasn't a long way so only minutes later, he carefully opened the front door as to not wake Astrid. He took off his boot and tunic before he sneaked into their bedroom. As expected, Astrid lay in their bed, cuddled into the blanket and deeply asleep. As quietly as he could, Hiccup sat down on his side of the bed, took off his fake leg and trousers as well and curled up on the soft mattress. Thor, he really needed to rest!

The last thing he noticed before he drifted off into dearly needed slumber was Astrid snuggling closer to his chest and his arm reflexively finding its way around her waist.

. o O o .

When Hiccup woke, he was still sleepy but also felt better rested than in what must come close to an eternity. His body felt heavy and his head light but for once in good ways and not from exhaustion like on most other days. He hummed happily and then realized that he hadn't woken up on his own.

Astrid was moving in his arms, slow and warm but very noticeable. And she did it again now, drawing a low groan out of his throat that he managed only barely to suppress.

"Morning," she murmured sleepily. She probably hadn't moved like that on purpose but it surely wasn't without any effect. For four months now, they hadn't had any sex. Because Astrid wasn't ready yet. Giving birth and the strenuous flight afterwards had almost torn her body apart and it wouldn't be sensible to risk any infections while she was still bleeding. Not to mention that she still was in pain and wasn't in the mood anyway. Hiccup respected that, wouldn't force himself on her if she didn't feel like it.

But – Fuck! – he wanted her!

And her grinding her cute ass against his cook right now wasn't helpful. Not in the least!

"Morning?" he replied, fighting to distract himself. He didn't want his erection to poke against her, didn't want to put any pressure on her by letting her know how horny he was. "It's got to be late afternoon, judging by the light"

Astrid paused for a moment and then chuckled. "You're right. How did that happen? Wasn't it right after breakfast when Helka left just now?"

Hiccup feverishly bit his lip as she kept moving in his arms. He should stop her before his state of arousal became too obvious but he didn't want to. It felt amazing!

"For how long did we sleep?" Astrid asked, snuggling even closer to him and he had to suppress a louder moan. "And where's Faye?" She paused and made attempts to sit up but couldn't with Hiccup's arms still around her. He should let her go, let her get up. It was the sensible thing to do, to let her go to pick up Faye and maybe some dinner from her mother and jerk off while she was gone. It surely wouldn't take long.

But he was tight as a bowstring, couldn't move without risking to act on his arousal, couldn't even loosen his hold on her.

"She's with your mother," was all he was able to gasp out and she relaxed into the sheets again.

"Hmmm, I see" her voice was light and unconcerned. "So we still have a few moments, right?" With a happy sigh, she cuddled back against him and this time Hiccup couldn't hold back the low whine.

"Ah – Astrid," he choked out. "Could you… Nng! Could you stop tha –Ah!" His hand was on her hip now, after all, desperately holding her still. He was dangerously close to coming already and that would be mortifying when all she wanted was to cuddle a bit. She'd endured enough, she didn't need a sex-hungry husband in addition.

"Why?" she asked innocently and pushed back more intently until his cloth-covered cock was firmly wedged between her bare thighs. She moved her hips back and forth, maddeningly rubbing his length and he wasn't able to give her a coherent answer. All he could do was keeping himself from rutting against her like a madman and keening against her also bare shoulders. Wrapped in her blanket as she was he hadn't noticed so far but now he did. She wasn't wearing anything except her lower undergarments. Was she actively trying to kill him?

"Hiccup?" She sounded playful, smug even. "Do you know what Helka said?" He couldn't have answered her even if his head had been clear enough to think about her question. Through the thin layers of cloth that separated them, he thought he could feel her damp warmth surrounding his cock and he couldn't speak, couldn't think. His mind was utterly blank, wiped clean by the sheer sensation of her.

"She said I'm all healed up"

Helka had said so before but this time, the words reached him on a lower, more primal base and he growled. He retreated but only to pull her around and on her back. A moment later, he was above her, fighting to support his weight and intently stared her in the eyes while his hips were firmly pressed against hers. Her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment and her sinful moan rang in his ears as she pushed up to press herself even more firmly against him. It was all the confirmation he needed. She was healed up, she was ready and she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Hiccup leaned down to kiss her hungrily, his fingers in her hair in an instant. When his nails lightly scraped over her skin, she shuddered beneath him and wrapped her arms around his torso to clutch at his back and bury her hands in his hair as well. Gods, how had he missed this! Blanketing her soft yet strong body with his own, feeling her skin on skin from head to foot. It felt wonderful. Right. Complete.

Without his help, his body was grinding itself against hers, seeking her damp heat and the friction he so desperately needed and Astrid responded beautifully. She was moving beneath him in equal measures, pressing her hips against his and shuffling her legs to the sides, welcoming him between them. Hiccup head began to spin when he felt her wet already, even through her undergarments. Thank Thor, she wouldn't need much foreplay.

As so often, he shifted his weight to one arm to reach for her breasts with the other, to caress and kneed them, to roll her hardened nipples between his fingers and pinch them to draw the most beautiful cries out of her. He'd been dying to do this again! Her breasts had grown during the pregnancy already but now, they'd become even bigger, were almost twice as big as usual. Logically, he knew this was to provide for their child but he wouldn't deny that he, too, benefitted from this development. They both moaned as his hand cupped the enlarged mound. It felt fantastic, hot and firm, even hard beneath the skin. Also sticky and slick from the constant dribble flowing down from the peak.

"Oh, Gods! Hic-" Astrid choked, writhing beneath him and arching up into his hand. With lust-clouded eyes, Hiccup watched as hers rolled back into her head, mouth parted in a silent scream. Grinning to himself, he slid down a bit and let his lips and tongue glide over her skin. It tasted weirdly sweet and he could feel his cook leaking as he was about to lick up her white mess for once.

He heard Astrid whine and suddenly, her hand was over his mouth. She lightly pushed him away from her alluring breasts all the while trembling and panting. Dimly, he remembered how she'd become more and more sensitive there and could have hit himself. Surely, that had only gotten stronger now.

"Sorry," he whispered huskily. "Did I hurt you? Too sensitive?"

Biting her lip, Astrid first shook her head and then nodded. "Didn't hurt," she gasped out after a few moments. "But yes, fucking sensitive. I… I might just come from that"

A low growl rumbled in the back of Hiccup's throat and he let his gaze drop to her breast again. That was a thought to keep in mind. But why had she stop him then? He leaned down again to latch onto her nipple, to lick, suck, and bite her until she fell apart beneath his mouth but got stopped by her once more.

"Don't," she pleaded weakly, a flush on her cheeks that wasn't purely arousal. "It's… it's weird enough to get... a little hot whenever I nurse Faye. I don't want this memory in addition"

Breathing heavily, Hiccup gazed at her through bleary eyes. Watching Astrid nurse their baby shouldn't be erotic but it was and he'd felt bad for feeling like that. But to think that Astrid felt the same… Reluctantly, he drew his hand back, away from her alluring breast and shifted to rest more comfortably above her again. "Alright," he breathed hoarsely. He tried not to be disappointed by the prospect of not being allowed to touch her breasts when they were so damn sexy. He could understand her reasoning after all.

To distract them both, he resumed kissing her ardently. His hands firmly cupped her face to keep them from wandering while his hips ground against hers again. After a minute or so, he felt Astrid's small hands roaming downward and awkwardly freeing them both of their remaining clothes until they were finally completely naked, completely skin on skin. He felt her hot fingers closing around his cock and it sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through his entire body. Gods, it had been too long… She pumped him once, twice and then guided him toward her centre, her wet arousal coating him a few moment later.

Somewhere in between, their lips had parted. Hiccup couldn't remember when or how, his blank mind too busy remembering how to breathe! But he should warn her…

"Aah, Astrid, I- nnggh – I'm not sure I – Ah! – can hold out for long" He gasped, slightly embarrassed. He hadn't felt like this since their first few times, like he would come just from thinking about pushing into her, about how hot and wet she would be around him, about how she would squeeze him tight. Groaning, he let his head drop to her shoulder, his mouth on her collarbone where he began to lick and suck and bite her tender skin just to have something to do, to distract himself. Maybe he could come once, over her belly and breasts and then play her some more until he was hard enough again to fuck her properly. That could work. Surely it wouldn't take long for-

"That's okay," Astrid gasped, chest heaving in time with their bodies grinding against each other. "I – mmmhh – I'm not sure I can take – Ah! – take it for long anyway"

Hiccup frowned at her words and grimaced when they started to make sense. He squeezed his eyes shut and slowed his movement down until he stopped completely. Groaning, he rolled off of her a moment later, one arm thrown over his face to cover his eyes. He understood what she was offering. She wasn't ready yet, her body not yet healed enough for sex. But apparently, she had noticed how much he longed for her after all and was offering him to use her anyway.

"Hiccup?" She sounded puzzled and he could feel her shift and turn around beside him. His body was screaming for her, his cock pulsing painfully but he couldn't do that.

"You don't need to do this!" He stated hoarsely. He didn't want to use her as little more than a receptacle to get off without her enjoying it as well, ever. That was not how it worked for him! "I can wait if you're not ready yet" His cock gave a protesting twitch but it was surprisingly easy to ignore, the thought earlier a guaranteed mood killer.

Astrid gave an annoyed snort and tugged at his arm until he let it drop. "You think I'm not ready?" she asked, light amusement in her voice. "You think I would start this if I wasn't ready? Hel, I've been ready for days! I just waited for the confirmation that everything's healed up. I want this, Hiccup!" Astrid seemed to have talked herself into a bit of a rage but her next words came as barely more than a whisper. "I want you!"

Swallowing, Hiccup turned toward her, to look at her. "I want you, too!" He admitted hesitantly. "But I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to pretend anything for me. If you're not ready yet, if you're still hurting then that's okay. I can wait, however long it takes"

With a small smile, Astrid scooted closer until their bodies touched lightly again. "I know," she breathed. "But I'm not pretending. I am ready! I want you, want to feel you, to be one with you. I've missed that. And it's not that I'm still hurting but rather that it's been a while," she paused, biting her lip as her hips bucked against him, moving seemingly on their own volition and a shiver ran down her body. "You might need to be careful though, slow. And I don't think I can stand it for very long just yet. But that's okay. I just want to feel you inside me again. And I don't think we'll get a better chance anytime soon. So… please?"

Hiccup had gazed at her, worries slowly crumbling under her words until that last please effectively brushed aside every remaining bit. He couldn't deny her anything, especially not if she actually pleaded. With something between a groan and a laughter, Hiccup leaned toward her to kiss her again and as the temptress she was, she used her strength to roll him back on top of her again a moment later. She chuckled and hummed when he blanketed her again, her hand roaming down his back to grab his behind. His cock gave a hungry twitch, waking up quickly again. Oh, but it wasn't his time yet…

He would do what she'd asked for, all too eagerly, but first, he needed to take care of her. If she couldn't bear him inside her long enough for her to come… Well, he knew other ways to get her off first. Grinning to himself, he crawled back and let his lips ghost down her collarbone and chest before placing a soft kiss between her breasts.

"Hic- ah! Don't…," she begged but Hiccup would be good. He wouldn't go for her breasts again if she didn't want him to. Instead, he crawled back some more, let his breath tickle the skin over her ribs and drew a slow circle around her belly button with his tongue. She was trembling beneath him, panting and whimpering, those beautiful noises that made his cock pulse. When he was about to settle between her legs, she seemed to catch herself again though.

"Hiccup, wait!" she gasped. "I don't… you… I mean…" He looked up at her, puzzled and worried over her reaction alike. Was this too something she didn't want him to do for whatever reason? If so then he was slowly running out of options. But when he saw her face, he understood. There was self-consciousness in her eyes, bashfulness and nervousness. Silly woman…

He winked at her and leaned down to breathe a kiss on her quivering sex, knowingly risking her getting upset if he misinterpreted her expression. But her reaction was worth the risk. She tensed up, back arched and head thrown back as she cried out. She muffled herself a second later, one hand pressed over her mouth while the other buried itself in his hair, tugging and scraping. Humming with satisfaction, he made himself more comfortable, lying on his front, propped up on his elbows and gripping her thighs tightly. One more time, he glanced up at her, at her beautiful face with its flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. He sought her consent after all whether this was alright for her. He saw her biting her lip and then she nodded, short and almost shy.

Without drawing it out any longer, Hiccup leaned down and brought his mouth to her hot core. It was true, she had changed but that only gave him a good reason to explore her thoroughly. Eager to get to know her again, his lips and tongue searched every fold and crease while his hands fought to keep her legs apart. He didn't go slowly, didn't have the time or patience for that right now. Her lustful moans and needy whimpers had him throbbing hard again in no time, his hips frotting into the blankets and mattress beneath them on their own accord, seeking any friction he could get. As much as he loved drawing her orgasm out, it wasn't feasible today. He needed to get her off before he actually lost his mind! Hungrily, he practically tore into her, tongue lapping and lips sucking relentlessly while her desperate moans and cries rang in his ears. At some point, her urge to move her hips seemed to become too strong for her to bear, her fighting against his grip getting harder and he let it happen. He loosened his hold on her enough for her to ride his tongue and got rewarded with the most sinful moan and her wantonly moving against his mouth.

Having her so mindlessly aroused beneath him took its toll on him though. She was so gorgeous, so hot, and sexy, and tempting. One day she would drive him insane! And if he wouldn't get her off soon, that day might very well be today! He was dangerously close to spilling into the blankets beneath him in a couple of minutes and that was not what he'd planned!

Keeping on hand loosely on her hip to keep her from accidentally hurting him, he drew the other on back a little and pushed one finger lightly against her entrance. It was tender she'd said so he didn't dare to push right into her despite her being maddeningly wet and slick beneath his touch. He wanted to gauge her reaction but his caution had been unnecessary. Keening into her hand over her mouth, Astrid shuddered and then moved her hips, pushing down on his finger. With careful slow nudges, he worked it into her and when she showed no signs of pain or discomfort, he added a second finger.

. o O o .

Astrid was sure she would go insane any moment now.

Sex hadn't been of any priority for her during the past months but now, with Hiccup's hot mouth on her sex and his careful fingers inside her, she felt like she'd missed out on a lot.

Sure, there were these brief moments when Faye latched onto her breast and her body seemed not to know how to react to the sensation. There was this strain in her breasts then that seemed to reach through her body and tug at something in her groins, making her clench and unclench deliciously. In those moments, she sometimes missed having sex but these thoughts were scotched instantly when the serenity of nursing her baby overcame her.

And of course, she'd noticed how Hiccup looked at her, how his body reacted to her. She saw how his eyes became dazed and how his trousered filled out on the weirdest occasions. She felt the longing in his words and gazes and actions. Oh, he tried to hold back and hide it but she knew him too well. He'd never been good at keeping anything from her.

And it wasn't even that she didn't want to have sex either. Sure, not the… real thing, but more than once she thought about sucking Hiccup off when she heard him grunting and groaning in the other room at nights. It seemed unfair to her that he had to endure this sexual frustration just because her body was in turmoil after giving birth. She probably wouldn't mind him touching her either but it wasn't like she actually needed it, not like that anyway.

But then there never seemed to be time, never the right moment. Faye took all her attention and in those precious hours the girl actually slept soundly, Astrid was too tired to even do necessary things like doing their laundry or eat something, let alone additional things like taking care of her husband.

The last week had been different though. She'd felt it again, that desire for Hiccup to touch her, to kiss her and carry them away for a while. The bleeding had stopped already but she wanted to be sure, wanted the confirmation that her body was ready for sex again. Asking her aunt after that had been embarrassing, but not as much as it might have been a year ago. Talking about her body had become easier.

And now, she was here, trembling with anticipation over Hiccup's tongue on her clit and his fingers lazily pushing into her. It was maddeningly wonderful. At first, his eager mouth had been overwhelming, too much for her unaccustomed body and she'd thought she might just burst from all the sensation. And it wasn't like it had lessened in any way, on the contrary! His mouth had become more greedy, seeking and searching and exploring. His lustful groans had vibrated through her sensitive body, threatening to shatter her from the inside. And his desperate rutting into the sheets had only added to it all. He was mindless with lust and desire, had been so for weeks. And yet here he was, massaging her clit with his talented lips and tongue while his fingers inside her found that spot and-

"Hi-Hiccup!" she cried into her hand as a lightning of pleasure shot through her and she pushed down on his fingers more firmly, trying to chase the sensation. Her entire body was tense, her insides coiled tightly. All she needed was a tiny bit more, only one last push, just… She felt Hiccup suck on her clit, felt him groan covetingly into her flesh, felt her own hips fucking herself on his fingers, and felt those finger pushing on that sensitive spot inside her but it seemed not to be enough. "Oh, please," she whimpered over and over again, begging for the release her body so desperately needed but it just wasn't enough.

Whining, she pulled the hand away from her mouth and reached for the part of her body that was the most sensitive these days. The moment her fingers touched her breast, the world became dark as her eyes rolled back into her head. She heard Hiccup gasp and moan as she pinched down on her own nipple, roughly rolling it between her fingers and, finally, it was enough.

Astrid made no sound as she came for the first time in months, all air getting stuck in her throat on its way out. Her body and mind tried to process what was happening while she was spasming and shaking, while a lightning crackled up her spine until stars and colours exploded behind her eyes.

It wasn't the best orgasm of her life, far from it. Her groins seemed hardly affected at all, were still so tense and sensitive. But it might have been one of the most meaningful, the starting signal for their love life to continue.

While Astrid came down to Midgard, she felt Hiccup crawling back up to her, his mouth never leaving her skin, covering her with sloppy kisses. She felt him teething her neglected nipple teasingly but when she gasped in surprise, he'd already wandered further. He panted into her hair and moaned against her neck as she spread her shaking legs for him. Astrid grabbed fistfuls of his hair and hurled him into a short but hard kiss. When they parted, they stared at each other, wide green orbs meeting blue before Hiccup, as if in a trance, reached for her leg and wrapped it around his waist before he nudged his way into her with short shallow thrusts.

Astrid was glad to say that it didn't hurt, not really. The stretch was a bit uncomfortable at first but well manageable after he'd had his fingers inside her already. She kept her eyes on him, on his eyes that were glued to hers. She watched him as the last bit of sense or reason left his mind when he was finally completely inside her and it was glorious.

"Oh, G-gods," he choked, eyes bulging and jaw clenched tightly. "S-so huuh…hot! Ah! As…nngg…tird… tell mmmmhhhh" His eyes fluttered shut and a shudder ran through his entire body. Astrid could see how much effort it cost him to hold back and reached up to run her fingers over his face.

"It's okay," she whispered into the air between them. "I'm alright"

With a sound somewhere between keening and growling, Hiccup began to move. The first couple of strokes were a bit clumsy and awkward but then he found his rhythm. And it felt good! It felt good to have him inside her again, to feel him stretch her tense muscles open. It felt good to have her hand buried in his thick hair and inhale his musky scent, to feel his warmth all around her. It felt good to hear him gasp nonsense, to feel his hands clutching at her shoulders as if his life depended on her. And it felt good to watch him, this strong man who was always in control of himself, losing himself so completely. In her! It gave her a heady feeling to watch him, watch the muscles in his neck stand out and feel them move beneath his smooth skin.

What she'd said earlier was still true though, she couldn't have taken it for long but luckily, he didn't take long anyway. After the first few strokes, he seemed to lose all caution and when she signalled him to go on, he pounded into her, hard and fast. Hiccup lasted barely more than a dozen thrusts before he pressed his shuddering hips against her with all his strength, grunting and cursing. He was gorgeous like this, coming undone above her, flooding her insides in hot spurts and it felt so right.

Astrid pulled Hiccup down into a kiss, sucking on his lips and tongue as he was floating back down to her. He moaned into her mouth and almost crushed her as he nearly collapsed on top of her. A moment later, he caught himself and rolled off of her, pulling her with him until they lay side by side in each other's arms.

"Thank you," Astrid breathed and Hiccup chuckled shakily.

"My pleasure!"

. o O o .

Half an hours later, Hiccup and Astrid walked through the village, decently dressed again, smiling, hand in hand, and more relaxed than they'd been in weeks. They were greeted by other people around them, but Astrid hardly registered their wide grins and insinuating winks. Instead, she let her mind wander, trusting Hiccup to lead them back to her parent's house to pick up Faye.

Dimly, she remembered how boring those months and weeks before Faye's birth had been, how she'd shouted at Snot for telling her she would miss those calm and lazy days. Maybe she should apologize to him because he'd been so right! The past months had been demanding with getting accustomed to caring for a baby but from now on, things would only become harder. She was looking forward to returning to her old duties again, to train again and be a part of Hiccup's council, to support and help him in leading Berk. But she was also afraid of how and whether it would work out. She was Hiccup's second-in-command, his general and his advisor, a dragon rider, and a defender of Berk. But she was also her own person, an axe-wielder, a woman, and Hiccup's wife. Juggling all these parts of her hadn't been easy before but now, she also was Faye's mother.

How on Midgard could all these parts of her coexist side by side without crushing each other?

"Oh, look, Faye. Looks who's there!" Her mother's cooing voice tore her out of her thoughts and a wide smile spread across Astrid's face when she spotted her daughter. Letting go of Hiccup's hand, she hurried through the room and picked the little girl up to nuzzle her lovingly.

"Hey, little darling," she now cooed herself, "Oh, I missed you so much!" She heard Hiccup's light chuckle as he stepped behind her and leaned down to place a soft kiss on Faye's head.

"Sorry for kidnapping your dinner," he whispered so only Astrid could hear him, making her shake with silent laughter. She flashed him a wide grin when Helka entered the room.

"Look at that, two well-rested parents, almost as good as new. And so relaxed…" She said teasingly but Astrid was spared any comment when her aunt handed her a heavy bundle of cloth. "Here, I think you'll need this from now on. It's a wrap to securely carry Faye around, on your front or your back. Even flying your dragon should work as long as you don't do any daring stunts"

With a beaming smile, Astrid took the wrap. "Thank you!" she said wholeheartedly. For a moment, she considered trying it out right away but Faye had other plans.

"She must be hungry," her mother stated unnecessarily when the girl suddenly began to cry and moved her head around searchingly.

Astrid handed the wrap to Hiccup and sat down to nurse her child. Even after having sex less than an hour ago, the initial suckling sent the usual spark of heat through her body and she bit her lip. She shouldn't feel aroused while she held her baby in her arms! It was wrong, these two parts of her shouldn't mingle. But then she looked up and her gaze landed on Hiccup with the wrap still in his arms. Hiccup who looked at her with a mixture of desire and love but at the same time radiated safety and comfort.

He was the Chief, the Great Dragon Master, a warrior but at the same time, he was just a man, a father, and a husband. And in that moment, Astrid knew. She threw Hiccup a warm smile full of happiness and love as well.

So many months ago, she'd worried how being Hiccup's wife, or worse, being a mother would change her. But now, in that moment, all those worried flew out of the window. Yes, she could be every part of her. She could be a mother and help leading the village at the same time, Faye's presence didn't need to interfere with that. She could be Hiccup's wife and his general, it was what they'd always been in a way after all. She didn't need to neglect any part of her in favour of another, could be everything. Not separately but she could work those parts together into one piece, into one person, into herself.

. o O o .

This is still not the end, there are at least 2-3 more epilogues I have in mind but not written yet. One comes from a request so if you have any ideas or settings you want to see here, tell me about it and I'll see what I can do ;)

Epilogue 3

#What it means to be Chief #Epilogue 2 #hiccstrid #hiccstrid smut #hiccstrid fanfiction #httyd fanfiction #shipmistress9

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writingandchocolatemilk · 7 years

Text

The Largest Sort of Dividing Line

Anonymous said : I wish you would write a fic where Spain and Romano are just getting to see each other again after WW2 and it's really emotional because it's been so long.

Ye okey

On AO3. On FFn.

It wasn't dead, liked he had imagined it to be.

Sure, there was the abandoned, skeletal remains of vineyards, poles sticking into the air with nothing but weeds at the base. The barns with missing rooftops, shingles crunching underfoot. Burned out tanks, abandoned carts on the side of the dirt road, long since picked cleaned by scavengers.

But it was lush and green, even if it was crabgrass. The wind was cool and clear this early into summer, and each hill Antonio crested revealed even more farmland beyond.

Antonio knew he had found Lovino's farm when he stumbled upon a cow grazing. Antonio patted her hide as he passed, following her path through the grass until he found Lovino, ripping out weeds with his hands.

"Lovino?" Antonio said.

Lovino jolted away from his work, staring up at Antonio.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Antonio blinked and looked around. "I, ah—"

Lovino stood. "No, seriously, what the fuck are you doing? You think I need this? You think I need you?"

Antonio held up his hands in surrender. "I misunderstood."

Lovino scoffed. "I left you in the middle of the night, gave you no town to find me at, and sailed off the next morning. You couldn't pick up, oh, I don't know, any context clues? Use some common sense?"

Oh. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh seems like an understatement. You don't think I would have written you if I wanted to talk to you?" Lovino's face was sunburned, and he was thinner than the last time Antonio had seen him. Tired, too.

"You can't read," Antonio began.

Lovino's eyes widened and his eyes snapped to the weeds at Antonio's feet. "I could have figured it out. I'm not an idiot…" He glanced up. "I can't do this, Antonio. Not right now, not ever. Never again."

"I'm here to work!" Antonio smiled. "No, really, I am. The bar went—well, it's out of businesses, and I've heard things are going well in Italy and I—I can work, I'm not afraid to. Are you weeding? I can weed."

Antonio crouched and began to tug at the weeds, and he managed to pull out one before Lovino was squatting next to him. Lovino grabbed Antonio's wrist with rough fingers.

"You don't know how to weed." Lovino tossed Antonio's hand away like it had burned him. "You're leaving the roots in; the fucking things will grow back. You're not a farmer."

Antonio's knee brushed against Lovino's. Lovino stood.

"Go to town, Antonio. Go north. There's no work here."

Antonio patted the ground. "Well, I'm on the farm, and I'd like to work on the farm, so I think that makes me a farmer."

"No, it makes you an idiot."

Antonio shrugged. "So I've been told."

"I can't pay you."

Antonio shrugged again. "I'm working for room and board."

Lovino rolled his eyes, but there, in the corner of his mouth, was a smile. "Like I have food."

"You have a cow."

Lovino ran a hand over his face and looked around his field. He wasn't wearing any gloves, and from where Antonio was sitting, he could see the scrapes and bruises, the blisters on his palms, caked in mud though they were. Lovino finally looked back at him.

"We can't kill Sofia. Alright, asshole, you can stay. But you're not sleeping in my house, and you do what I tell you when I tell you. Don't expect food, don't expect much sleep." Lovino sat next to Antonio. "You dig the dirt away from the roots, then pull. Make sure you get everything or they'll grow back."

"Yes, sir." Antonio smiled. "I've missed you."

Lovino grunted. "Get to work."

…

The boat was the biggest thing Antonio had ever seen. It towered over the city, a fortress of gun and metal. Every time it rolled into port, it brought the stench of gunpower with it.

Still, a customer was a customer.

Antonio balanced the sign on his lap, writing out the night's specials. Cigarettes with an S, beer in English, he knew it was close enough to the Italian, gin in Spanish, even though the word was shorter in Italian.

A man walked over, still in uniform. "You speak Italian? You sell cigarettes?" he asked haltingly in Spanish.

Antonio looked up and smiled. "I speak enough Italian." He pulled out his own pack and offered one. "Here."

The sailor grabbed one without hesitation, lighting it up immediately. "Where'd you learn Italian?"

Antonio shrugged. "Around. It's useful to get people to come. There are a lot of common words."

The Italian nodded. "Where'd you learn to write?"

"My father. He wanted me to be educated." At the Italian's confusion: "Wanted me to go to school. But I pick it up from here or there. I know some Yiddish, too."

"What's Yiddish?"

Antonio casually wrote the prices on the board. "The Jews speak it."

The Italian nodded. "Do you own the bar?"

"I won half of it gambling." Antonio rested his chin in his hand. "Lots of questions. You're not a spy, are you?"

"A what?"

"I don't know the word in Italian. The secret police?"

The Italian laughed. "No, I'm a sailor. I won't arrest you. I just wanted a cigarette."

Antonio smiled. "You have a nice laugh." The Italian's face immediately grew stormy. "You should come by and have a drink tonight. It'll be busy, but I can talk. I'm Antonio."

"Lovino."

Lovino held his hand out, and Antonio shook it. The Italian's hand was sweaty, and Antonio saw his fingers tremble when he took his hand back.

"Will I see you tonight?"

Lovino shrugged. "No."

…

Antonio was perched precariously on the roof of the barn, hammering back all the shingles he had found scattered around. Lovino had told him to use two per shingle, but there was a storm brewing overhead, and Antonio was pretty sure he was going to be hammering them back into place tomorrow.

Antonio sat up and stretched his shoulders. It was darker than Antonio had realized—later than he had realized. Where was Lovino?

He looked around, seeing over the tops of the overgrown olive trees he was usually submerged in. There, on the dirt road, three figures and a cow. Antonio hoped for good news, but why would Lovino bring them back to the farm?

Antonio swung his legs off the roof and lowered himself off, hanging on by the tips of his fingers, and then landed neatly. He brought the hammer, jogging in the direction of the figures. The olive trees rustled in the breeze, and Antonio heard the soft pats of raindrops on the leaves, the smell of rain.

Antonio slowed when he heard voices.

"Fuck off," Lovino snapped.

"Give us the cow, Vargas."

"Look, I'll get you the money in two months at the latest. Once she gets pregnant again, I can milk her and sell it, or just give you the milk, but—"

There was a sound of scuffling. Someone fell; Antonio heard the impact of him on the ground, the sharp exhale of breath. Sofia mooed.

Antonio burst out of the tree line, took in Lovino on the ground, and ran at the nearest man. The man held up a hand, but Antonio struck low on the thigh. The man crumpled to the ground, muscles cramping at the sudden impact.

"Jesus Christ!" the other man jerked away. "Who the hell are you?"

Antonio smiled. "I'm Antonio."

Lovino scrambled to his knees and held his hands up. "Antonio, sweet Mother put the hammer down!" Blood dripped from his nose onto his shirt.

Antonio lowered the hammer.

The second man was helping the first up. "You have two months, Vargas!" he yelled over his shoulder, hauling his friend down the road.

Antonio watched them until they disappeared from view around a bend in the road. Just like that, it was done. Obviously not ones for a fair fight. Most bullies weren't.

Lovino stayed on the ground, face in his hands. "My God," he breathed, "I need someone to knock up my cow."

Antonio crouched next to him. "Are you alright?" He took Lovino's hands away from his nose, trying to assess the damage.

Lovino shoved Antonio's hands away. "I'm fine. I didn't—I didn't think they were going to punch me. Caught me off guard, is all." He wiped away some blood and looked at his hand. "Jesus." His voice shook.

"Who were they?" Antonio stood and offered his hand.

Lovino took it and Antonio helped him up. "No one. Well, they… They own the fucking farm. It's my grandfather's but they…" Lovino sighed. "Claimed it was theirs and I had to buy it back from them. Or, well."

Antonio looked down the road after the men. "Are they from here?"

"No," Lovino spat. "The north."

"I could tell from their accent." Antonio fetched Sofia's rope. "We could kill them."

"No." Lovino cleared his throat. "No, that's… No. No point. It'd just cause us more trouble down the road. Or, well, me. I'm the one who…" He blew air through his lips.

They walked slowly back to the house, Sofia occasionally shaking her head to clear the raindrops from her ears. Lovino tilted his head up for the rain to wash away the blood.

"I only used two nails," Antonio said.

Lovino looked over at him. "What?"

"For the shingles." Antonio pointed at the barn. "Like you said. We still ran out, but it'll keep out the rain well enough."

"Oh. Yes. Yes, thank you." Lovino sucked in air through his teeth. "You… You don't have to sleep in the barn. Anymore."

Antonio grinned.

"At least until it stops raining," Lovino added quickly.

"Of course."

…

Antonio was too drunk to see the clock. Tell what time it was. Both. He poured another shot for Lovino, one for himself.

"What's a farm like?" he slurred.

Lovino grinned. "A what?"

"You know. The… plants."

Lovino laughed. "Hot. Hard work." He said something in Italian Antonio didn't know. "Cows."

"Saw cows again."

"Cows."

Antonio closed his eyes. "What a glorious word. Beautiful. No one speaks Italian like the Italians."

"I'll say. I'm so sick of hearing you Spaniards fuck it up." Lovino leaned forward, eyes unfocused. "Though, I guess yours isn't terrible. Not the worst I've heard."

"I could teach you Spanish, you know." Antonio took another sip of his drink, grimacing. "It's practically the same, except for the big words. And small words."

Lovino snorted when he laughed. "Not the same."

The bar was practically empty this late. A few patrons were passed out. A few drunkenly gambling, speaking in different languages. The candles burned low. Lovino's eyes were the brightest things in the gloom.

Antonio shifted, his fingers brushing against Lovino's, casually. Ever so casually. Lovino glanced down, eyebrow raised.

"Come back tomorrow," Antonio whispered, leaning closer. "I'll teach you some Spanish."

…

Antonio's eyes opened to the dark. He blinked a couple of times, trying to figure what time it was. He rolled to his left to ask Lovino if he was up.

There was a gentle sob.

"Lovino?"

The sound immediately stopped.

"Lovino, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Much to Lovino's credit, his voice was steady. "Go back to sleep. You have another few hours to sleep."

Antonio sat up. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just, stupid—fucking—just nothing, okay? I just…" There was a sharp intake of breath, hitching.

Antonio stood, slowly, and shuffled over to Lovino's bed. He sat down slowly. Lovino was silent from the other end of the bed.

"They used to pick them off in the water," Lovino whimpered. "If we sank a boat. They would… they'd swim and yell up at us. We used to shoot at them." His voice became muffled. "I'm going to hell."

"No, Lovino—"

"I am! I'm already in hell! I'm in debt to—to—even my fucking brother left! My only family left in the entire world left me! The war haunts me everywhere I go! Even in my head! Especially in my fucking head!" He coughed while he sobbed. "And you! Every time I look at you I—I'm going to hell!"

Antonio lunged forward and pulled Lovino into a hug. Lovino stiffened in his arms, started to pull away, and then gave in, pushing his face into the crook of Antonio's neck. Lovino smelled like old sweat and hay. His hands on Antonio felt rough.

"You could see their blood in the water," Lovino said into Antonio's neck. "Bodies float when they're dead. I see them."

…

Lovino was drunk with Antonio in the back room. It was noon. Lovino didn't seem like he had any mind to stop drinking any time soon.

Antonio watched him, sitting opposite in the ground. Lovino had taken off the top of his uniform and had it wrapped around his waist. Bottles surrounded him like a shrine. His face was sunburned, and he swayed whenever he stood to get another drink—his sea legs.

"Lovino," Antonio said. "Why are you here?"

Lovino looked at him, eyes unfocused. "We're not supposed to. Spain is neutral."

"I mean…" Antonio searched for the words. "Why are you in the military?"

"Oh." Lovino took a sip. "I was drafted."

"Why didn't you run away?"

Lovino looked away and shrugged. "I don't know. I was afraid. They… There was this other boy. In my village. He tried to run for the Resistance. They shot him in the square." Lovino stared at the bottle in his hand.

Antonio crawled across the floor to sit next to Lovino. Their arms pressed against one another, their sides. Antonio could hear his heartbeat in his ears, watched Lovino's profile, the blush creeping up his neck.

"My brother," Lovino said, "he was so mad. But only because my grandfather was. He didn't understand everything, I don't think. After all, what could I do? I can't fight off all of Italy because… Well, just because."

"What was your brother's name?"

"Feliciano." Lovino's mouth softened from its hard line. "I miss him. He ran away after I was drafted. I haven't heard from him since."

"Did…" Antonio looked at the door, unsure of who was listening.

"Maybe." Lovino shrugged one shoulder.

Antonio rested his hand on Lovino's wrist. Their legs touched. "My father is a tradesman. He traded to the Axis, so I left my house and came here. I like it, I like the coast. I like the people."

Lovino looked at him. "Do you like me?"

Some historical stuff:

Italy's Navy was one of its most successful military branches in WWII.

Spain originally tried to join the Axis Powers, but was denied. It became neutral when the Allies began to turn the tide of the war. However, it traded regularly with the Axis, and maintained normal trading with the Allies.

It's not inconceivable that Spain would allow an Italian warship to dock in its waters, especially early in the war. At least, that's what I'm saying for this story lol.

After the war, Italy actually had one of the fastest growing economies in Europe… if you lived in the northern part of the country. There was a mass migration of people from the rural, southern areas to the cities.

If you continued to try and farm the land, good luck competing against the huge, aristocratic farms. Most small farms were no longer self-sufficient, and debt plagued the venture. Most farmers became laborers for larger farms.

#spamano #aph spamano #APH Spain #aph romano #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #Antonio Fernandez Carriedo #lovino vargas #writing

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fraink5-writes · 7 years

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Conqueror- Chapter 2

New Acquaintances

Sorry for the long wait! I was in Japan, visiting Chuuya’s and Dazai’s cities.

Thanks to my editor, @leio13!

Summary: Finally, Dazai visits the Edo Castle and meets the new shogun, but Chuuya is not the person Dazai was expecting.

This fic can also be found on Ao3 here. Terminology is explained at the end. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Calm waves stream under the wooden bridge. Before the small entourage stands a grand gate built into the stone wall. The white building houses at least 100 guards under its black shingled roof. After entering through the first gate, Dazai and his attendants turn to find the exit--an unnecessarily confusing process--but finally, they’re in the main castle. An impressive hill sprawls out next to the path, covered with plum blossoms like fallen snow. If Dazai had not waited to visit, perhaps he would have seen the blossoms on the trees.

Eventually, Dazai’s group arrives at another convoluted gate, and while the design irritates him, Dazai is happy to have finally reached the heart of the castle--the Honmaru Palace. Upon entering through the northern gate, they are greeted by a grandiose building. The five-story fortress with golden roofs emanates power. It dwarves Dazai, reminding him of his lack of authority. They skip past it and reach a building of a much more humble height. Dazai admires the ornate gold decorations of the reception rooms and apartments as they walk past. Before entering the grand reception room, Dazai peaks briefly at the rooms in the distance: the Kuroshoin and Shiroshoin, the Shogun’s reception room and living quarters--his prospective destination.

When Dazai enters the large room, there are two men already in there. The older man (not the shogun) has black hair tied up a chonmage, which is excessively greased. He smiles and bows at Dazai, and although Dazai assumes the smile is good-natured, it unsettles him greatly.

The shogun’s appearance is striking. Most noticeably, he is extremely short; Dazai imagines the man is barely taller than Dazai’s shoulders without his hat. But, his other features are equally noteworthy: his orange hair, tucked into his hat, is seemingly set ablaze in the natural lighting; his angular, blue eyes are complimented by his slim nose; and, his lips possess a natural curl. When he bows, Dazai can’t refrain from snickering at his decreasing height.

“Welcome. I am Nakahara Chuuya, son of Nakahara Kansuke, and, now the new shogun.” Chuuya seemed surprised at his new position. “It is my greatest pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dazai Osamu-sama.”

Dazai already bowed out of courtesy, but he figures he should respond to the shogun’s introduction (even though there is not much to add). “You have basically already introduced me, but I am Dazai Osamu, the 114 Emperor of the Chrysanthemum Throne. It is nice to meet you, Nakahara-san.”

Chuuya slowly rises from his respectful position. “Nakahara-san?”

“Mmhmm,” Dazai nods, “I mean, you are the shogun, but I am the emperor.”

“How insolent!” Chuuya growls, “You may be the emperor, but I run this country.”

The words stab Dazai like daggers, but luckily, the creepy man steps in. “Chuuya-sama, it is unwise to pick fights with the divine leader of our country.”

“The figurehead,” Dazai thinks he hears Chuuya mumble, but the shogun says nothing to him.

Aware of his position (already on his target’s bad side), Dazai attempts to lighten the situation. “Do not worry; it appears I made a great choice when picking our new ‘leader.’”

“What choice? It was only given that I would inherit the position.” Chuuya spits.

So he’s aware of the nature of his position. Dazai isn’t sure of his thoughts on the new shogun; does he like him or hate him? He has the awareness and wit in order to make comebacks at Dazai’s comments, which Dazai secretly appreciates. But, his ego is huge, and somehow, he has already managed to dig at Dazai’s greatest insecurity.

Before more painful words fly at him, Dazai decides to drop the subject entirely. “Anyway, I am here to express my condolences to you and my deepest respect to your late father.”

Overhead, brilliant leaves of reds and greens blossom; their vibrancy seems to defy the solemnity, but the still air imposes a somber aura upon them. Amidst the foliage stands a modest, wooden gate. It is the last humility before the shrine.

The shrine of the men who once controlled all of Japan dominates the mountain with it's intricate gold leaf decorations and elaborate paintings and carvings. Perhaps the wood once was apart of a unassuming tree, but it had long since transformed into an ostentatious display of power. Some people cannot be humbled--even by death.

At the altar, Dazai burns incense as an offering before continuing the ritual. The sound of the bell, which Dazai rings, is pleasant to his ears against the horrible silence. Then he bows deeply twice, an ironic display of irreverence from the emperor. Such an act reminds Dazai of the true state of his country, and he has to suppress a growl. Instead, he accidentally channels his frustration into his first clap. The loud boom echos forcefully through the forest, shaking the world around him--except Chuuya, who remains in his own thoughts. What kind of things preoccupy the new shogun’s mind? Dazai studies Chuuya like a mystery to solve before remembering his intentions. When he claps a second time, he is careful to be softer, and this time it’s nearly inaudible.

Before the shrine of the former shogun, Dazai’s wishes diverge from his actual desires. He first offers his respects, some of which are true. The former shogun was, in fact, a reasonable man, according to Dazai’s assessment. His decisions were surprisingly logical, and he held a firm grasp on the country. But despite his power, he also was respectful to the traditions of the country. Dazai finds this humility to be the most laudable. As he thinks about the previous shogun, Dazai wonders if his son shares any of his admirable traits. He is doubtful--but, of course, he represses these thoughts.

On the subject, Dazai decides to convey some kind thoughts about the new shogun, but this proves to be difficult, so he quickly moves onto his main concern, the future of Japan. Before the shrine, he makes clear his greatest desires: the continuance of a strong rule over Japan and peace between the shogunate and the imperial throne. Before bowing a final time, Dazai slips in a brief thought about his eyes for the former shogun’s son.

Waiting for Chuuya to finish, Dazai lets the scent of the incense overwhelm his senses. The many facets of the wooden smell fill the voids where sound doesn’t exist. Closing his eyes and shutting out the grandeur, Dazai enters a peaceful world, surrounded only by the scent of death, the equalizer. In this state, the impressive man next to him is no different than the men toiling inside the castle. However, this is, of course, all in Dazai’s imagination, and when he reopens his eyes, beside him, the de facto ruler of the country stands, his authority bolstered by the oppressive opulence of their surroundings.

As they walk back to the Honmaru Palace, Dazai breaks the uncomfortable silence. Alone with the shogun, he takes the opportunity to be more casual--if only slightly. “So, who was the daimyo with whom you were earlier?”

“Mori Ougai, one of the roujuu. In fact, he’s the tairou.”

“Mori-san? The tairou? Quite a strange choice, if I may say so.”

“My father trusted him,” Chuuya grumbles. “I also trust him.”

“I can see that, Chuuya-sama.”

Chuuya face turns as red as the lining of his robes. “I-we-we’ve known each other since I was young.”

“Can I call you ‘Chuuya’ too? You prefer that name, do you not?”

“We’re only acquaintances.”

That’s a clear ‘no,’ but Dazai presses on. “Can we be more than that, perhaps?”

“W-what?”

“Well, you see, Nakahara-san, I came here, to this castle, for the purpose of making your acquaintance.”

Whatever blush had left Chuuya’s face quickly rushes back. “And you’ve accomplished that. I’m Nakahara Chuuya. It has been an honor to meet you, Your Highness.”

Dazai stifles a scowl in response to the shogun’s stubborn rejection. “The pleasure is all mine. I look forward to working with you in the future towards the betterment of our nation.”

Terminology Explained:

Convoluted Gate: Masugata gates were used in the castles of the Edo Period. These gates were in fact an enclosure with two gates at a right angle. (Image)

Honmaru Palace: The central section of the castle, where the Shogun lives.

Five-Story Fortress: The Tenshu was the most fortified and tallest tower in the castle. The donjon in Edo Castle was the highest in all Japan as a symbol of power.

Kuroshoin: The inner audience chamber was less formal than the grand reception rooms. The shogun would meet with his closer, trusted relations in this section.

Shiroshoin: The shogun’s private living quarters, to which only the shogun himself, his lovers, and young messengers had access.

Chonmage: A hairstyle worn by samurai, in which the long hair is oiled, tied up, and folded on top of the head. Usually the crown of the samurai’s head is shaved.

Divine Leader: The Japanese Royal Family supposedly was given the divine right to rule by Amaterasu, the sun goddess.

Momijiyama: An area in the northern part of the castle which contained shrines to the former shoguns.

Kyara: The incense which Dazai and Chuuya use is the highest quality aloeswood incense, more expensive than gold.

Roujuu: The highest members of the shogunate (under the shogun), consisting of four or five daimyo. Usually, one was on duty per month on a rotating basis, but they all convened for important issues.

Tairou: The great elder was the most prominent roujuu.

Mori: The Mouri Clan (from the Choushuu Domain) was one of clans which helped overthrow the shogunate in 1868. Even before that, the head of the clan was a Tozama daimyo (one of the least trusted daimyo by the shogunate).

#Bungou Stray Dogs #Soukoku #Conqueror #Dazai Osamu #Nakahara Chuuya #Mori Ougai

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verdelet · 7 years

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Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: Gen Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs Relationship: Dazai Osamu & Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs) Characters: Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs) Additional Tags: First Meetings, Odazai Week, Oda Needs A Hug, Dazai Needs To Learn Social Skills

Language: English Published: 2017-01-22 Words: 1817 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

His name is Sakunosuke Oda. His job is to do the mafia's dirty work. It's a lot less glamorous than it sounds.

The first time Oda sees Dazai Osamu, he's in a corner of Lupin. The same corner he usually occupies because the shadows linger here like memories and without his coat, his dark shirt allows him to more or less remain inconspicuous. It's really rather convenient, though if he thinks about it, he doubts anyone would notice him if he'd worn a clown costume. The mental image almost makes him want to snort at himself, though he opts for sipping his drink instead. (It's not like he truly regrets joining the mafia. He just laments at the lack of honest livings available to child assassins.) Still, being unnoticeable by reputation has its perks. For one thing, he doesn't budge an inch when the door upstairs swings open with a bang, and a far more conspicuous pair make their way down to the bar. The Double Black. Infamous and dangerous, Oda watches their effect from his perch as every other customer leaves (flees, more like). He considers leaving as well, eyeing the remaining half of his drink and wondering if it's worth the risk involved with staying. Several feet away, Nakahara somehow manages to make the mere action of sitting down ooze irritation. "It's none of your business, you bandage wasting freak," Nakahara hisses, and Dazai slides onto the seat next to him with a laugh Oda doesn't need to read into to know is false. "Oh, but Chuuya, it's always my business to know about yours!" Dazai turns on the seat, and Oda stills when that dark eye immediately lands on him. He waits, for something to happen, maybe a comment thrown his way or even a gesture to get lost, but it doesn't come. Dazai's smile, lopsided like the boy is still learning to fit it on correctly, pulls further on one corner, and then the brief attention is gone, directed back towards the red-haired mafioso ordering a drink. They're underage, the both of them. It's neither Oda's place nor right to intervene, and he watches the bartender slip the drinks their way regardless. Funny, he'd never seen the Double Black before, but he does know he hadn't quite imagined them right. For one thing, he hadn't expected Dazai, the mafia's own Demon Prodigy, to be so covered, the white of bandages stark against the darkness of the boy's hair. When Dazai snatches the hat off Nakahara's head, Oda can see bandages peaking out from under the sleeves as well, encasing thin wrists. From the look the bartender offers him, Oda considers leaving once again but ultimately dismisses the option. Doing so now would only draw attention to himself, and he really would prefer not to. He can wait for them to leave, even if by the looks of it, he doesn't think they'll be gone for at least an hour. He's waited for longer, and in far more uncomfortable places. He still knows the feeling of a broken shingle roof, cracked slates catching into him through his clothes as he bears with the sun heating his back and legs past the point of tolerable. The stickiness of his own palms as he forces himself not to move regardless, one eye closed and the other focused on the view his scope offers. Compared to that, the corner of a well-ventilated bar is a luxury. It takes them two and a half hours to leave. Oda spends the time studying the way condensation makes patterns over the glass, pooling around the base to form a ring. He also manages to draw up a mental shopping list, something he'll have to actually write down when he gets home (ideally tonight) because he doesn't want to forget Sakura's crayons. In that time, he's overheard no less than fifteen death threats and insults (Nakahara), twice that many height jokes (Dazai) and the occasional jab at fashion sense (Dazai as well). By the end of it though, the bar counter is somehow still intact and just as polished as ever, and Nakahara is a grumbling mumbling lump that Dazai more or less hauls off the seat, one arm pulled across his thin shoulders. As they leave, he glances at Oda once more and offers that same unsettling Cheshire Cat smile before departing. A threat or a warning, Oda can't tell, but the free drink the bartender slides over is hardly reassuring.

The first time Oda meets Dazai Osamu, he’s certain that the executive had orchestrated it (even if the boy isn't technically an executive- the entire mafia is just waiting for the promotion by this point). He’d been handed a report, informed to deliver it to Dazai’s office, and promptly waved off without a word of explanation. With no other options present, Oda does as he’s bid and tries not to read too much into the strange circumstance. It’s been three days since the bar… incident? No, ‘occurrence’ would be more accurate. Three days since the bar occurrence, and nothing too out of the ordinary had happened, though Oda supposes that the indirect summon might be the ‘out of the ordinary’ thing he’d been waiting for. Fortunately or not, he arrives at the office without incident (even if he spends a moment longer than he normally would studying the two gunmen standing guard on either side of the elevator when it opens with a chime too cheery for Oda to empathise with). Even with the elevator trip up and the ten seconds it takes to make his way to the office in question, he’s no closer to being able to guess why he’d been called here. He ends up knocking regardless, instinctively waiting for Flawless to alert him of any impending danger. As far as life-threatening dangers go, Oda hadn’t expected it to be a paper airplane, floating through the air and appearing only as a sudden flash of white before he feels it tap against his forehead. He blinks, watching it flip backwards from impact and fall to the ground with a soft rustle.

“Bring that here.” Whoever designed the offices for Port Mafia’s executive, Oda hopes they’d been paid a decent amount of money. Any expression Dazai Osamu makes is hidden behind the steepled fingers and the evening light that shines in from the windows behind him. Oda can’t help but feel suitably threatened by the image, even if years of practice have taught his hands to not tremble.

As far as he can tell, the airplane is just a blank sheet of paper. He picks it up, smoothing out a slight bend caused by the fall as he approaches the desk. Dazai doesn’t move an inch, even as Oda sets the report down and the airplane on top of that before stepping back and falling into a parade rest position. “The reports from the Fifth Division, sir,” he says, then adds, “and your airplane." “Sakunosuke Oda,” Dazai murmurs, and the way his name rolls off the boy’s tongue turns the syllables into a tease. Oda blinks, but keeps his expression neutral even as his heart starts to rabbit in his chest. It’s no surprise that Dazai had found out his name. It’s a surprise that Dazai had gone through the effort of finding it out (even if it’s not something he wouldn’t expect from the Demon Prodigy). “Sir.” He keeps his gaze lowered just slightly. Focusing on Dazai’s hands is easier, allowing him to focus on any body cues the executive offers while still maintaining the deference appropriate for his status. "Why you, and not the Fifth Division's Shusaki Endo?" Dazai blinks, and it reminds Oda of a snake right before it strikes to devour the prey. Impartial. No one feels anything towards what they consider as food except for how it tastes. Oda forces the breath in his lungs to still before he lets it out slowly, considering the question. "I don't know, sir," he says in the end. "Shusaki-san informed me that the report was to be delivered to your office and did not provide further information. It was not my place to push for answers." "That's true." Dazai folds his hands over the desk one finger resting on a corner of the report. Oda stares at his chin instead, though without actually focusing on any single point. "The mafia member who won't kill... Someone like you wouldn't be able to show any form of backbone without being at risk." Dazai falls silent, but Oda doesn't pick up the conversation. There isn't anything there to reply too, not when both of them know that Dazai had only been listing the facts. He waits instead, keeping his breathing calm and keeping his shoulders relaxed. Having an Ability that can show him the future that would injure him would be useless if he isn't prepared to react to it. "With a resume like yours," Dazai muses after what feels like an age. "You would be able to surpass even Endo." "I've chosen not to kill anymore," Oda answers the question sitting between them. "I'm happy where I am." He isn't. Not really. He just isn't ready to move on yet. If Dazai picks up on the half-lie, it isn't commented on. Instead, the executive hums softly and seems to roll the answer around like a cat with yarn. Picking it apart and studying the frayed edges. "And why is that?" There's curiosity in the statement, something veiled lingering just behind. Oda presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth, holding back a quick answer. Rephrasing it before allowing his throat to give it sound. "Is that an order, sir?" "No." Dazai smiles, and Oda thinks the boy knows what Oda is going to reply with even before he actually says it. "Then I would like to decline answering, sir." Oda says anyway because it would be rude to not respond. "And if I made it an order?" Dazai leans forwards, cheek resting in his palm. The perfect picture of innocent curiosity... or it would be, if Oda hadn't known better within the first minute of conversation. "Then I would." It isn't his place to disobey. Sometimes it feels as though it never had been and he's only ever been following the directions he's been told to go in, but that's a train of thought to follow another time. Preferably when he can afford to be distracted. Dazai laughs, leaning back into the chair. "That's too easy. That's okay, I'll make you tell me on your own volition one day." There's a promise in those words, one that Oda will have to parse out on his own. "... If you so wish," he says for lack of anything better. It doesn't seem to matter though, because Dazai is still smiling as Oda's dismissed with a wave of the hand. "I'll see you around, Oda," Dazai tells him, and the words are a promise that follow him all the way home.

#odazai week #first meeting #dazai osamu #bsd #verdy writes #oda sakunosuke

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blog-optimisticcoffeestuden-blog · 6 years

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In the state of il. If ur parents give u a car in their name. Do u need to have the car insurance in your name?

"In the state of il. If ur parents give u a car in their name. Do u need to have the car insurance in your name?

Does the car insurance have to be in ur name to be able to drive da car if u are under the age of 18 . Or can u drive da car on ur parents name on der insurance.?

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://howmuchisinsurance.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr