#because not only is his voice loaded with doubt or 'eh he's useful so keep him' but he has Loki's whole life on file | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

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script-nef · 3 years

Text

So why won’t you realise it '^' | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

1.9k words; Movie date [2/6]

Spoilers of Howl’s Moving Castle!! Beware!!

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

“Eh, Shouko! What do you mean you can’t make it?”

“I mean, another person is about to come in and they need me to heal them. By the time I’m done the movie will be finished.” Shouko’s voice over the phone is laced with annoyance and sadness coupled with lethargy. You don’t know how she pulls off such a unique combination of emotions but she somehow accomplishes it every time. “And I was looking forward to it…”

This would have been the first time you had a break with her since the trip to France. And while she enjoyed it a lot, the same couldn’t be said for the two males. Which was weird since Gojou is infatuated with sweets and Ken-chan agreed to come. So it was kind of weird when there was a tense atmosphere between them. You know your brother and Gojou are nearly polar opposites, but their animosity wasn’t usually that strong.

They brushed it off as nothing when you asked if something was wrong, which was sort of dubious since you could kind of see the black cloud looming over the both of them, but you let it go. If it was something important, they would be able to handle it themselves or report it to you. You couldn’t sense any cursed spirits nearby so you guessed that they were just in a bad mood for some reason.

Still, you had a wonderful time and found some new snacks that everyone enjoyed. So a day well spent, all in all.

And Ken-chan told you to tell him if Gojou ever offers overseas trips or anything similar, so he must have enjoyed it. Maybe you can ask Gojou to take all of you to Denmark one day.

“Ah… my dear Howl. Life and curses separate us again.” Her voice is full of sadness now, no doubt mourning over her chance of watching her favourite character on a huge screen with surround sound disappearing.

“It’s okay! I’ll bring you the figurine and we can watch it again here in about… uh…”

“Ten years?” She sounds like she’s about to drop dead.

“Uh… yes… But maybe five years? Hopefully? You know, I shouldn’t watch it without you. I’ll come back to school.”

“No, no. Watch the movie. At least you’ll get to see it. Ah, they’re coming now so I have to go.”

“Ah, okay. Bye, Shouko! Stay positive!”

A non-committal sigh accompanies a small “Bye” before the call clicks off. A frown takes over your face at the lost opportunity for her. She was looking forward to this for a long time and you leapt at the chance for another girls’ day out. Being able to watch a childhood favourite is an added bonus. But now you’re standing in the movie theatre, the ticket desk just across the room and an extra on your hand.

It’s a shame because it cost quite a lot. Shouko is definitely going to mope about this when you get back and maybe start smoking again. She always has a pack on her even if she said she quit, and smokes one if she’s stressed or angry. You should call someone and make sure somebody takes it away from her.

You should probably hold onto the ticket and give it back. Or maybe that would make it worse for her, serving as a reminder of this day. Conflict rages inside your head. There’s a high possibility of either decision breaking her heart. Again. A buzz from your phone saves you the trouble of deciding.

Shouko: I sent someone as my replacement.

A tap on the shoulder makes you turn as you type in a reply and you come face to face with a black jacket. Gojou’s head pops down.

“Hey there. I think you called for a replacement!” He seems to be in a ridiculously good mood, even more so than usual. Maybe his students successfully finished another mission. Which is great. It also means more paperwork for you. Which is not so great.

“How did you com—ah. Teleportation.”

“Ding ding ding! Correct!” He's been using the skill more frequently lately, popping in and out of places like one of those Whac-A-Mole games. . It gives you heart attacks all the time and you’re sure he gets a kick out of it. You saw how his smiles widen when you flinch or react. Thankfully it’s when you’re alone so other people never see you jump what feels like a metre into the air.

“Do you want popcorn?” He breaks you out of your thoughts. “I think they have the new caramel flavour. Apparently it’s way too sweet.” So perfect for Gojou. Even though he’s asking if you want it, there’s a spring in his step which definitely means he’s getting some. Probably the biggest option they have.

And you’re proven right because he comes back with two huge buckets which look impossible to finish. When you try to object, he cuts off with “I’ve eaten three buckets before. Alone.” With the smile he’s giving you, it really doesn’t sound like he’s joking. You try to take one to lighten the load but he says it’s alright.

He signals the way to the theatre rooms with his head, walking beside you as you find your way.

“So what’s the movie?” Your head snaps to him in confusion.

“You don’t know?” A shake and a shrug. “It’s Howl’s Moving Castle. This was Shouko’s idea since she loves it and this year is Studio Ghibli’s 40 year anniversary. The cinema is having an exclusive showing of their movies this month. Only one session per movie, for some reason. Surely they would make more money if they played it over multiple days, but. I dunno. Executives make weird decisions.” A light scoff from him to tell he knows exactly what that’s like. His hatred for the higher-ups runs deep. You don’t push it.

“So she wanted to come but got held back at the last minute?”

“Yeah. Ah, here are our seats.”

You’re placed in the very middle of the room and you both make yourselves comfortable. Shouko went all out for this movie, upgrading the seats and making it a recliner. Your poor back, abused after sitting in chairs and hunched over computers for so long, practically melts into the plush cushion. It’s so comfortable that you might fall asleep in it if it isn’t Howl that’s about to start.

Feet dangling in the air, you look over to Gojou to see him on his phone. It looks like he’s in a chatroom and you catch the words ‘Shouko’ and ‘favour’ before looking away. You didn’t mean to peek, but it’s not like you can consciously not read something. It was in your line of sight and you averted your eyes as soon as you realised what you were reading. Your brother brought you up better than to pry into other people’s businesses, even if it’s really, really tempting.

“Phones need to be placed on silent, you know.” The ads are coming on the screen. He smiles at you, slipping it into his pocket.

“Just talking to Shouko. She says she hasn’t even started properly.”

Disappointment fills you. Gojou is a good friend to watch this with but you hoped Shouko would somehow miraculously finish in time. She would be devastated.

“I’ll have to make this up to her when we get back. Give her the figurine and keep her hap—ah! I forgot! Gojou, I was supposed to ask someone to take her ciga—” He cuts you off with a light pat on your hand.

“Don’t worry, I did it already. All of them are safe out of her reach and I gave her packets of hot chocolate instead. When we get back, she’ll have drunk at least half of them and be in a good mood.” What a Gojou-like replacement. He smiles like a child wanting pats on the head for a job well done. You just barely catch yourself from moving.

Gojou gets a rep for being aloof and neglectful, but he does take care of the people he holds dear to him. His friends, members of the school, his students. You hope you’re included in the list.

Actually, the more you think about it, the more you realise he’s different from initial perceptions. You learn more and more about him as time goes on, in the most delightful sense. He’s somewhat like an onion, new characteristics being revealed every time a layer is peeled. A snicker escapes at the thought of Gojou dressed up like an onion, just waddling around. He shoots you a questioning head tilt which you wave off.

In the years that you’ve known him, he made himself into a trustworthy friend. One full of laughs and ridiculousness. Maybe it’s his childishness that puts you at ease, but he’s incredibly comfortable and easy to relax around. Thoughts trail and the words fly out of your mouth before you even think.

“You know, I think you would make a wonderful boyfriend.”

He freezes completely, like somebody’s zapped him in place. You stare at him, wondering what’s wrong, but the lights dim and by the time he gathers coherence, your concentration is on the opening sequence.

“Ah, that was so good! Ugh, I love Howl. Isn’t he so cool?” You skip out of the room, remembering to take the figurines provided at the exit, with Gojou trailing behind you. “You know how she asks him to wait for her in the past? The first thing he says to her in the movie is ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He searched for her the entire time! This is modern poetry. This.”

“Do you think Howl would be a good boyfriend?” The question stops you. It’s different than usual for some reason, the voice asking the question and the intensity of it. He’s still his aloof self, all smiles and grins, but there’s something you can’t quite place that’s wrong. It’s unnerving, but you diligently answer his question.

“Um, I mean, yeah? Look at how cute he is with Sophie. See?” The figurine is a frozen shot of Howl and Sophie dancing in the rain with an umbrella that’s not being useful at all. They’re both incredibly detailed, so much so that you can see their clothes and skin drenching wet. Wow, this is actually a phenomenal job. Shouko will be so happy. It makes your heart lighter knowing that at least something might light up her day.

“Why is he cool?” Gojou seems to be invested in Howl. It confuses you since he just watched the movie with you and he saw how awesome Howl is.

“Hm, well for one he can do magic.” He opens his mouth but you shush him with a finger to his lips. “Yeah, I know, what we have is kind of like magic too. But theirs is just… different. He just makes it seem kind of elegant. And he overcame his fear just for Sophie. Remember the scene with Sulliman and in the cluttered bedroom? He still found the strength to protect her even though he was so scared before. It’s admirable. I guess I like strong guys.”

“Hmm~” His tone is contemplative. “You know I’m stronger than him, right?”

A question mark forms over your head. He’s being really weird today. “Yeah? You’re the strongest in the universe, silly. What’s up with you?” Gojou just chuckles and ruffles your head.

“Nothing, nothing. Just making sure you know.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, the intensity gone and the light spring in his step back. “Who else do you think is strong?”

Next chapter →

#gojou x reader #gojou imagine #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru imagine #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojou #gojou satoru #fluff #series #female reader

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade Special Pamphlet Short Story: The 12 Vampires and the Magic Lamp [ENG Translation]

Original title: １２人のヴァンパイアと魔人のランプ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade Limited Edition Special Pamphlet

Summary: After the Parade has come to an end, Yui receives a special ‘Magic Lamp’ from Count Walter’s butler which can be used to grant a single wish. As she tries to refuse the gift, the Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers promptly stop her and begin to fight over who has the right to use this valuable treasure. She escapes, but the boys chase her around the city, each of them determined to have their own wish granted. ーー And so, their game of tag begins.

“Chichinashi! Where are you hidin’!?”

“Oooi~ Bitch-chan~! Be a good girl and show yourself?”

With the Parade having come to an end, Ayato-kun and Laito-kun’s voices echo through a now quiet and nearly deserted Glimmer Street. While hiding in the shadow of the buildings, a sof sigh fell from my lips.

“...What to do? I have to hurry and go to Bernstein Castle...”

Right now, I am on the run not only from Ayato-kun and Laito-kun, but from a total of 12 different Vampires.

All of this happened because I obtained the golden, shimmering ‘magic lamp’ I’m currently holding in my hands.

ーー It happened after I managed to regain my heart with everyone’s help.

As I was about to leave this city to return to the Human World, I was approached by a butler working for Count Walter. He handed me this ‘Magic Lamp’ as an apology for the trouble his Master had caused me. According to what I was told, it is an extremely valuable treasure which will grant any one wish.

Furthermore...The Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers were there to witness the whole ordeal.

“I just can’t accept something so valuable. ...I’ll give this back to you, okay?”

As I said that in hope of returning to Bernstein castle afterwards, they stopped me in disbelief.

And then claimed that if I did not want it, they would use it instead. ...This resulted into a fight and before they knew it, I had made a run for it, taking the lamp with me.

ーー And that is how our game of tag started.

I am not quite sure what everyone would wish for, but I believe we don’t need this thing if it can fulfill one person’s wish only.

“Heeh...So that’s your reasoning. Well, I’m pretty sure it’s useless though...”

“ーー S-Shuu-san...!?”

“Not just Shuu. I’m here too. Geez, you really made us go through the trouble of lookin’ for you.”

When I raised my head, Subaru-kun was standing next to me as well. ...No, it wasn’t just the two of them. All of the Sakamaki brothers had gathered, from Ayato-kun and Laito-kun whom I believed had walked past me earlier, to Kanato-kun and even Reiji-san.

“Hehe...You’re pretty desperate, Subaru.”

“I mean, Subaru-kun’s going to wish for Bitch-chan to fall head over heels in love with him, right~? No wonder he’s so desperate, nfu~”

“D-Don’t be makin’ up lies! My wish is a new coffin!”

“All I want...is to live surrounded by an endless amount of sweets!”

“In that case, I’m gonna wish for a huge load of takoyaーー No, actually, might not be bad to have Chichinashi turned into a Chichiari*.”

--> チチアリ or ‘Chichiari’ would be the opposite of ‘Chichinashi’, literally meaning ‘to have boobs’.

“Eh!? M-Me...!?”

“You can’t, Ayato-kun. I’ll be one turning Bitch-chan into a voluptuous, young woman after all~*”

--> He literally describes it as a ナイスバディのオネーサン or ‘Nice body no Onee-san’. Onee-san is used to refer to women who are older than you are but since Laito-kun is only 17 in human years, it would apply to a girl in her early 20s as well.

“G-Geez! Cut it out, you two...!”

“...You guys really came up with some bullshit. If it can grant any wish, I’d make it so the Old Man never bothers me again...Pwaah...”

And so, they began to slowly close in on me. The very moment they reached for the lamp, Reiji-san - who had been the only one remaining quiet so far - suddenly raised his voice.

“Would you care explain this to me? ...Because you kept touching the lamp with those sweaty palms, there are now fingerprints all over it! Come on, it is not too late yet! Put these on at once!”

While frantically shouting at me, he threw a pair of white gloves my way. Surprised by his menacing look, I put them on as asked, and Reiji-san finally nodded his head in agreement.

“I am disappointed...Do none of you grasp the true value of this lamp?”

“Haah? Are we really not allowed to touch it with our bare hands...?”

“It looks pretty normal from the outside though~ I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a similar example in Kanato-kun’s room...?”

“Yes. ...Well, that one isn’t capable of granting wishes though.”

Reiji-san sighed deeply at Ayato-kun, Latio-kun and Kanato-kun’s consecutive comments.

“...Only two of these ‘magic lamps’ exist in this world, making them very valuable from a historic point of view. Furthermore, the lamp may disappear once it has granted one’s wish, therefore it revolts me you lot are even considering putting it to use...”

While the other guys seemed little interested in Reiji-san’s emotion-laden speech, he once again spoke up.

“Well, I doubt you will ever understand. ーー Especially you, whom I did not expect to even join us in the first place...”

“...Shut up. Who cares?”

Shuu-san calmly brushed off Reiji-san’s taunt as if it was nothing.

“Hehe...Seems like he doesn’t give a shit ‘bout what you say.”

“Fufu, take a look at that frustrated expression on Reiji’s face. ...This might be the most interesting thing I’ve seen in quite some time.”

“Geez, cut it out you two~ Don’t you feel bad for Reiji~?”

“Feel bad? ...Hehe. Pretty sure your words hurt even more.”

The other four brothers who had been listening in on their conversation continued to chuckle...Which eventually caused Shuu-san to burst out laughing as well.

Seems like this sight dealt a pretty hefty blow to Reiji-san’s pride, as he stood there shaking violently from sheer anger.

I better make a run for it before things take a turn for the worse...

I used the fact they had suddenly completely forgotten about me to my advantage, and left the place at once.

“...Phew. Thank god. Seems like they didn’t notice.”

I eventually found myself on Aizen Alley, one of the streets located in the very back of Glimmer street. To be honest, I wasn’t too thrilled about having to pass through there, but if I wanted to head to the castle while avoiding Ayato-kun and the others, I had no other choice.

“Hehe...Too bad. You can’t escape us First Bloods.”

“Hand over that lamp you are holding at once.”

I gasp at the voices resounding from the darkness. Those who appeared were Shin-kun and Carla-san.

“I-I can’t do that...! I believe it is wrong to use the lamp for one’s own selfish pursuits...”

“If we give it back, it’ll just get thrown into some old, dusty storage room, right? In that case, I’m pretty sure the lamp would be happier to have someone use it as well?”

“B-But...”

“Come on, don’t hesitate. You’re keeping Nii-san waiting as well. Can’t you hurry up?”

“...T-Then, what would you wish for, Shin-kun?”

While snorting at my desperate question, he answered with a smile.

“That should be obvious. I’d make sure those filthy Vampires disappear off the face of the Demon World at onーー”

“ーー No. We want cured ham.”

“N-Nii-san...?”

“We shall change all food in this world to cured ham. That is my...No, the dearest wish of all First Bloods.”

“R-Right...”

Carla-san would blurt that out with a straight face. It is the very definition of a selfish wish but I wonder if Shin-kun is truly okay with it? ...I look over at Shin-kun while wondering that, seeing him look at Carla-san in utter defeat.

“...Well then, woman. Hand it over right now.”

“You’re actually hoping to fulfill that wish...!?”

“Yes, of course.”

All food in this world will turn into cured ham...That is just simply pushing it one step too far. It pains me to have to deceive him...But I decided to tell a certain lie.

“H-Have you already had the chance to try the cured ham galette which is said to be this city’s speciality...?”

“...Pardon?”

“It’s a limited edition galette which is available at stores only after the Parade has ended. While passing by the shops earlier, I noticed that only very few were left, so I figured I would inform you just in case...”

While there was no guaranteeing he would believe me, I wanted to make Carla-san forget about the lamp, even if just for a few minutes. With that sole purpose in mind, I continued my act.

“...Let us go, Shin. Just leave this woman be.”

“W-Wait, Nii-san! You’re just going to believe her on her word!?”

“We will know whether she was speaking the truth or not once we get to the shop. Even if she had been lying, capturing a human woman is child’s play to me. However, if she has been speaking the truth...”

“If we don’t hurry, they’ll run out of cured ham galettes, right? ...Right, I understand.”

Realizing there was no point in trying to reason with him, Shin-kun reluctantly trailed behind Carla-san as they left.

I truly am sorry...While internally apologizing to both of them, I headed towards my desitation.

“Haah...I can finally see it in the distance...”

Some time after I bid farewell with the Tsukinami brothers, I finally got close to Bernstein castle.

“Oh no...I can’t approach the castle like this...”

After all, four familiar figures were standing lined up by the castle’s gate. Those are the Mukami brothers...Of course, with Ruki-kun standing in the middle. As to be expected of a strategist like him. If I wanted to return the lamp to its owner, I would have to make it back here eventually. They were one step ahead of me.

“Eve...Found you...”

“...!! A-Azusa-kun!?”

When I timidly turned around at the voice suddenly calling for me from behind, Azusa-kun - who was talking to Ruki-kun and the others up until seconds ago - suddenly stood right in front of me.

“Ahー M-neko-chan! So this is where you’ve been~!”

“Che...Ya sure took yer sweet time. You’re damn late, Sow!”

“...Calm down, you guys. If we make too much of a ruckus, we’ll attract the attention of the others.”

When I raised my voice, it caught everyone’s attention and without a chance to slip away, I was soon surrounded by the four Mukami brothers.

“I’m sorry, guys. But I won’t hand over this lamp to anyone...!”

After jumping the gun like that, Ruki-kun let out a disappointed sigh.

“...Seems like you have got the wrong idea. I simply want to look after the lamp for you.”

“Eh...? You don’t want to use it to grant your own wish?”

“Of course not. If a Vampire such as myself holds on to the lamp, it will decrease the chances of one of the other guys stealing it.”

“You say that buuuut~ ...Ruki-kun, aren’t you actually hoping to use that lamp to renovate our manor~?”

“Your own exclusive study room off-limits for anyone else, and a play room filled with nothing but chess boards...Hehe, as to be expected of Mr. Eldest son.”

“Kuh...! Don’t assume such things. All I want to do is to make the home we have received from that man the most comfortable for you all to live in...!”

While Ruki-kun chuckles sarcastically after his true intentions are exposed by his siblings, Azusa-kun reached out for me.

“Listen, Eve...The four of us talked it out and...We’ve decided to use the lamp together with Ruki as our representative...”

“Ruki-kun’s so mean, you know~! I was actually going to wish for a hundred year’s worth of Vongole Bianco.”

“I was gonna ask for the power to manipulate the weather...But my idea got shot down at once. ...Haah...And here I thought I could make field work a lil’ easier on myself...”

“I just want to be with Eve so...I didn’t really have any particular wishes...”

“Is that so...? It’s really admirable of you all to hold back on your own desires.”

Even though the younger brothers were voicing their complaints, it didn’t seem like they were going to force their own wishes through. I’m sure it is because Ruki-kun intends to make a wish which benefits the whole family, as the deep bond of trust between the four brothers somehow made me feel warm inside.

However...That still does not mean I will give them the lamp.

“Uhm, you see...It just doesn’t sit right with me to only have one person’s wish granteーー!?”

The second I felt as if something was closing on me, a large sound resounded from the nearby buildings before they collapsed.

“...!? This magic...”

“The Tsukinami’s...perhaps? Look, over there...!”

“Ugeh! They look hella pissed off! Did ya do somethin’!?”

“Uu...W-Well...”

I could feel my heart drop at Yuma-kun’s words. Carla-san and Shin-kun must be upset about the lie I ended up telling them back then...

“Say, what should we do!? At this rate, we’ll all be turned to dust...!”

Kou-kun’s exclamation made me panic as I rushed towards the two brothers. Either way, I just had to apologize as quickly as possible...However, I was stopped by the Sakamaki brothers before I could reach them.

“You’ve got nowhere to run now...Oi, hand me the lamp already!”

“What are you saying, Subaru? I will be using the lamp. You’re in the way!”

“Hell no! I’m gonna have my wish granted!”

“Ehー Let me have the honor for once~ We can only use it once and my wish is obviously the best.”

Shuu-san joins in a little late as well and before I know it, the Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers are all gathered just like when we started off.

Glares were being exchanged here and there as a hostile atmosphere fills the air. I can no longer stop them all by myself. In that case, I will have to rely on an outer source to back me up. I didn’t want to use the lamp to have a wish granted but...This is the only way to stop their fight.

While rubbing the side of the lamp, I spoke up with a loud voice.

“Release lanterns into the sky once more!”

White smoke emitted from the lamp and soon after ー Poof! The lamp disappeared with a popping sound.

When I look up at the sky, I once again witness the same magical sight of countless lanterns floating through the sky, just like they did a few hours ago. ...At some point, their quarreling voices had gone quiet as well.

“You...Haah. You really are a foolish woman.”

“Ya really think we’re happy with this crap? Geez. Ya really used the lamp for some useless shit...”

“...Eh...?”

Shuu-san and Yuma-kun’s remarks catch me off guard as I froze on the spot.

“...Livestock, seems like you did not grasp the true value of that lamp.”

“Exactly...To think a great hidden treasure of the Demon World has been lost over such a ridiculous wish...!”

Ruki-kun and Reiji-san voiced their complaints as well.

“B-But...! All of you were moved by the lanterns, no...?”

I frantically reached out for the others, hoping that at least one of them would agree with me. ...That was all I wished for, yet...

“I mean, sure? But to be honest, I didn’t need to see it a second time...”

“...I’d hate to have to agree with a mere Vampire...But I’ll admit that Kou is right this one time. You feel the same, don’t you, Nii-san?”

“...My cured ham...”

“Too bad, Shin-san...Seems like Carla-san can’t hear you right now...”

“Ah-aah...I was looking forward to seeing a sexy Bitch-chan as well~”

“Me too. I was already making plans for which sweet I would try first...!”

“Fuck! There goes my plan of gettin’ a coffin in which nobody can bother me...!”

All I got in return were negative responses and sighs.

“...Guess I’ve got no other choice then! Oi, Chichinashi! Let me suck your blood to make up for it!”

“W-Wait! That’s way too sudden...!”

“Shut up! That’s the only thing which can calm this anger inside of me!”

While Ayato-kun closed in, I looked around me in search of someone to save me, but all I could see were a bunch of eyes glaring at me from the darkness. At this rate, they will all take my blood. ...There is no way I would come out of that alive. Realizing I had to make a run for it...I dashed away at full-speed.

“Ah! Wait, M-neko-chan!!”

“Geez, Bitch-chan! I’m not scary though~!”

The many lanterns floating through the night sky was a sight to behold, but unfortunately, I did not have the leaway to enjoy that right now. After all, I had to flee from their approaching footsteps and voices calling out for me as soon as possible.

I didn’t want them to fight and while I never expected them to become friends, I wished they would at least try and be on neutral terms with each other.

That wish was most definitely granted. Right now, they had put the strained relationship between the different families aside to join forces.

However, knowing their shared goal is my blood...doesn’t make me happy at all.

ーー The Demon World’s Parade safely came to an end, but my night had only just begun.

ーー END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers short story #diabolik lovers translation #shuu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #ruki mukami #kou mukami #yuma mukami #azusa mukami #shin tsukinami #carla tsukinami #diabolik lovers lunatic parade

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sirius · 3 years

Text

Dare or Dare (Prompt)

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, mentioned Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 2256

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, mentions of sex i guess?

Request: Could you do 13 and 15 of random with James or Sirius maybe? :) - Anonymous

Prompt: 13. “YOU SAID BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!” 15. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”

A/N: First prompt finally finished!! please send in more! the list is pinned to my blog. Enjoy <3

***

It may have been cliche, but it was a common tradition for you and your friends to steal food from the kitchens, get drunk and play stupid muggle games late at night in the Gryffindor common room.

The fire crackled and popped, emitting shards of amber light that jarred with the dark shadows, creating a golden-warm atmosphere that encompassed you and your friends. You sat crossed-legged on the ground between Mary and Marlene Marlene while the boys - James, Sirius, Remus and Peter - sat opposite you, forming a circle that sort of resembled a seance. Littered in the centre of your ‘Friendship Circle’ (coined affectionately by James) was your plunder; a variety of puddings and treats and left-over sweets from a recent Hogsmeade trip.

Soon enough, two bottles of firewhiskey were brandished and passed around the group, and everyone was taking long sips from the bottle - everyone except for you.

“Boo,” Sirius jeered, “You’re boring.”

“Well excuse me if I don’t want liver failure,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “Besides, six people sharing from the same bottle? That’s unsanitary.”

“What? You worried you’ll catch boy cooties,” Sirius teased, “Because last time I checked, you didn’t mind boy cooties when I saw you making out with Prongs in the broom closet last week. And trust me, none of that was exactly ‘sanitary’.”

You felt your face glow with embarrassment as laughter bubbled over the group. You glanced at James, at the little curl of his lips that wasn’t quite as mischievous as a smirk, but not as open and carefree as a smile. It was somewhere in between...like he wasn’t embarrassed of kissing you, of even being lumped in the same sentence as you. It made your heart swell, your cheeks no longer warm from embarrassment.

“Why don’t we stop harassing (Y/N) and Potter and get on with some games!” Marlene urged, gracefully saving you from Sirius.

“Yes!” Peter agreed, “I managed to find a load of fun muggle games in this book!”

He pulled out a book from his bag and brandished it before you friends.

“101 Party Games to Play at your Bachelorette Party,” Remus read aloud, frowning, “Some how, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I do!” Mary said eagerly, leaning forward to get a good look at the book.

“Whats a Bachelorette Party?” asked Marlene, brows knitted in confusion.

“It’s a party where a bride and her bridal party celebrate her last night as a ‘single’ woman,” Mary explained excitedly, “My mums been to loads. She always comes back with weird penis shaped memorabilia.”

“Well, what’s the hold up, Wormtail?” James asked, grinning broadly, “Let’s crack it open!”

Peter dropped the book in the middle of the circle and sat back as Sirius opened the first page. A devilish grin spread slowly across his face as he read the index.

“This is brilliant!” Sirius laughed, flicking the page, “’Stick it in the Hole’ a game inspired by all those sex ed classes you pretended to listen to in High School. Two people are required, much like the real thing.”

“Muggles are insane…” Marlene decided.

“Dunk the Weenie in the Creampie,” Sirius continued, “The only time when it is encouraged to be bad at cooking. Simply tie a sausage to your waist with a short rope and try to dunk the sausage in the centre of a cream pie. Beware, this game is messy.”

“Yeah, I’m not playing that,” said Remus, disapprovingly, “I’m not sure what’s worse; having to embarrass myself by grinding on a cream pie in front of my friends or watching you lot do it.”

“Agreed,” said Peter, who was blushing furiously.

“What about this?” Sirius perked up, reading intently, “Bridal Truth or Dare. A sexy twist on a classic game. Players must reveal deep truths or suffer through scandalous dares. The more debauchery, the better!’”

“I’m down for a game of truth or dare,” Mary piped up excitedly.

“Same!” Marlene chimed.

“Me too!” said Peter.

“I have no shame and I don’t believe in regrets so I’ll play,” said James, winking at you.

“Oh what the hell,” Remus shrugged, sighing, “So long as the fire whiskey’s still flowing.”

“What do you take us for, amateurs?” Sirius gasped, his tone oozing with mock-offence.

Everyone turned to look at you. An unpleasant burning sensation prickled beneath your cheeks.

“Alright,” you sighed, grabbing a sugar quill, “I’ll play.”

Marlene and Mary giggled excitedly as Sirius dropped the book in his lap and skimmed the first page.

“Right,” he said, importantly, “If someone asks for truth, they have to answer or risk being forced to do a dare from the list of Extreme Dares.”

“I like the sound of that,” said James, craning to peer at the list.

“I don’t,” you muttered, glancing at Remus.

You knew beyond a doubt that you’d be asked about you and James’ complicated history by one of your friends and, if you refused to answer, would probably have to do something embarrassing with him like let him fondle your breasts or something stupid like that.

“Alright, so the eldest starts,” said Sirius and he grinned, “Which is me so suck it losers.”

Everyone groaned. Having Sirius start a game of Bridal Truth or Dare was going to be excruciating to say the least.

Sirius feigned a deep look of hurt, clutching his chest in pain, “I had no idea you guys thought so highly of me!”

“Hurry up, Padfoot,” Remus grumbled, taking a swing of fire whiskey, “Lets just rip it off like a band aid.”

Sirius’ lips spread into a wicked, calculating smirk. You knew that look all too well; it was the look of someone who was either barking mad or insanely clever forming a devious master plan.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he pretended to think for one attractive moment before narrowing his eyes on you.

“(Y/N), Bridal Truth or Dare? Quickly now, or we’ll all sober up and lose our nerve.”

You thought that was quite impossible for two reasons: one, everyone except you had had enough fire whiskey to drown their veins in alcohol and, two, Gryffindors never lost their nerve.

You sighed long sufferingly, “Alright, truth.”

“Bridal truth,” Sirius corrected and then furrowed his brows in thought. His eyes sparked again with a look of wild excitement, “Have you and Prongs ever reached third base?”

Marlene and Mary stifled their giggles. James shot you an apologetic look, grimacing at Sirius.

Something about the challenging look in Sirius’ eye rankled you, grating obnoxiously on your competitive streak. Usually, you were more rational, more ‘pick-your-battles-carefully’, but now, Sirius was closing in on your relationship-not-relationship with James, something you considered deeply personal. If Sirius wanted to play this game, then he’d better be prepared to lose.

“Padfoot,” James began, glancing at you, “I think that’s-“

“No,” you answered, defiantly, “James and I have not reached third base, and that’s only because we kept getting interrupted by you.”

There was a stunned sort of silence at the tone of your voice. Everyone was used to you denying your relationship-not-relationship with James, so your candor was like a splash of cold water in the middle of winter.

You broke the silence by snatching the bottle from Sirius’ grasp, “I’m too sober for this shit.”

“You don’t even drink,” said Marlene in shock.

You uncorked the bottle, “Maybe I should start.”

Tipping your head back, you took a long drag of the fire whiskey and winced as it seared the back of your throat. A moment later, a tickling warmth kindled in your stomach, and what felt like gold shot through your veins, filling you up.

Everyone was staring at you, shocked and speechless. You - Gryffindor prefect, one of the top performing students in the school, rule abider and teachers pet - were breaking a dozen school rules by drinking fire whiskey and admitting quite blatantly that you and James would have had sex if it weren’t for Sirius.

Their shocked expressions made you smirk.

“Are you lot going to keep staring at me or are we going to play?”

***

An hour into the game, and your brain was swimming in pools of intoxicated bliss. It was like peering through rose-tinted glasses - everything was hilariously funny, and your courage and impulsivity had been dialled up by about a hundred while your common sense had abandoned you.

Everyone had participated in an array of embarrassing truths and even more embarrassing dares. Peter had asked you what it was like to kiss Sirius (you and Sirius had a few…flings…in the past, before you had realised your feelings for James).

“Be honest now,” Sirius winked at you, “You don’t have to lie because ol’ Padfoot is here.”

James looked slightly amused, but there was a glint of something dark, something wild in the mosaic of his eyes.

You took your time, formulating a response.

“Eh, he’s alright” you shrugged, nonchalantly, “I’ve had better. A little overrated, if you ask me.”

That had been a mistake. Without warning, Sirius had launched into a wild tickle attack, scrambling toward you and poking his fingers between your ribs. Laughter erupted from your lips as you keeled backward, lying flat on your back as Sirius clambered on top of you.

“YOU SAID BE HONEST STOP TICKLING ME!” you shrieked, laughing hysterically, “SIRIUS! GEROFF”

James was the first to pull Sirius off you, smacking him around the head.

“Ouch!” Sirius yelped, but he smiled at James’ playful expression.

The hours ebbed away.

Soon, everyone was getting bored with Bridal truth or dare and instead decided to play Dare or Dare. You, Marlene and Mary had been dared to race each other stripping your bras off without taking your tops off. While you had done it a million times before, it had been significantly more difficult to do while drunk.

Remus had been dared to sneak into Filch’s office and leave him a love note and James and Sirius had been dared to kiss - which they did, passionately and unabashed.

“Alright,” James had smirked as he stared at you, “(Y/N). Dare or Dare?”

You pretended to consider your options, “Hmm…Dare!”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” James grinned, dodgy and lopsided, “Alright, I dare you to sprint past Dumbledore’s office, topless.”

You grinned, climbing to your feet, “I’ll do you one better.”

Slowly, while maintaining eye contact with James, you stripped into your underwear. James’ expression cycled rapidly between awe and arousal, and you couldn’t help noticing the way he squirmed, trying to casually cover his lap with a pillow.

Marlene let out a low whistle, startling you. You had forgotten about the others.

Grabbing your cloak, your friends all made your way to Dumbledore’s office, dodging out of Filch’s sight and weaving around Peeves, who was throwing furniture around in Filch’s office.

It was only after you watched Nearly Headless Nick sweep past Dumbledores office when you unclasped your robe and let it pool around your feet. Moonlight soaking into your skin, you stepped into the empty corridor and took a deep breath. The air was cool, prickling your skin with goosebumps. Your cheeks, however, felt hot and flushed from the alcohol and adrenaline.

“Go!” urged Sirius and, without hesitating, you ran.

Arms flailing in the air, you sprinted past Dumbledore’s office while your friends giggled madly. Once you reached the corridor, you turned around and raced back but came to a sudden halt when a figure stepped around the corner.

Severus Snape was standing at the end of the corridor, a look of shock and embarrassment creeping into his thin, pallid face.

You immediately took a step back. Severus had become your friend after meeting him in Diagon Alley before your first year at Hogwarts. You’d stopped associating with him after he had started associating with Death Eaters and you had noticed a definite change in his attitude toward muggleborns.

“(Y/N),” he said, softly, as he drank in the view of you, your skin glowing in the moonlight, “W-What-?”

James and Sirius stepped forward protectively and Remus draped your cloak around your shoulders, forcing you behind him.

“What do you want, Snivellus?” James spat, “Looking for another kitten to drown for Lord Stinkamort, are you?”

Severus’ expression contorted into a look of fury. He grabbed for his wand when you stepped forward, lacing your fingers with James’.

“He’s not worth it,” you whispered, and with another urgent tug, you pulled James away, Sirius following.

Perhaps because you were there, neither James nor Severus attacked one another as you retreated to the Gryffindor common room. James was grasping your hand tightly, still enraged by Severus’ presence, but that changed when you pulled him around a corner and kissed him deeply.

“What was that for?” James asked in surprise.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” you asked, playfully, “Oh, alright then…” you started to saunter off but James pulled you back into his arms and crashed his lips onto yours, stealing the breath from your lungs and the words from your tongue.

Panting as he pulled away, James looked around and spotted something to your left. You followed his gaze, where it landed on the Prefect Bathrooms.

“Fancy a dip?” he asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Definitely,” you smirked, tugging on his belt, “And this time, we won’t be interrupted.”

***

@siriusmuch @beyoncesdragon @moon-zodiac @mflufflion

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anxiousgaypanicking · 3 years

Text

What You Need (Intrulogical)

Two days without eating and three without sleeping sounded like the normal schedule for college student Logan Berry. He's in class all day and works all night just to barely pay off his rent every month. Constant bills leave little room for bare necessities, and it's clear that his current lifestyle is very damaging. While looking for solutions, he comes across one that seems... mediocre at best, but he's desperate. What is this solution? A sugar daddy.

this is a sugar daddy story. that means there will be sex. kinky sex, especially further on. im not going to put a warning at the beginning of each chapter so heres your warning for the entire book. each new chapter will most likely have a different smut scene, so read with caution

Also! This is a copy of my story from wattpad that im posting here because i want to get into using tumblr :DD so... pog!

Part 1

"You look like shit," Janus comments, taking a seat next to Logan in their lecture hall. Logan can hardly muster a groan in response, leaning uncomfortably over his notebook in order to review the notes he had taken the day before.

He looks up at Janus, giving Janus a good look at the bags under Logan's eyes, no doubt from him being forced to stay up all night working.

"Another night shift?" Janus questions, and Logan nods.

It's all he could take, due to the fact he had school in the mornings and studied for a bit after school. But, he had to make money somehow, seeing as getting evicted and/or starving was out of the question.

Janus sighs, kicking his feet up onto the table in front of them, earning a glare from Logan.

"That's not proper classroom etiquette, you know," he grumbles, which earns a grin from Janus.

"And? What are you gonna do about it?" Janus asks, sass clear in his voice. When Logan rolls his eyes and sets his head down on the desk, Janus laughs. "That's what I thought. Absolutely nothing."

"Why do I put up with you again?"

"Even I don't know the answer to that question." Janus snickers, as the room slowly fills up. There's not many kids, so they're all spread out in the hall. Most people sit apart; hardly any of them even have the energy to become acquainted with each other.

The professor walks in minutes later, announcing his presence with an over-exaggerated "good morning class" that makes both Logan and Janus groan.

Logan picks his head up off his desk, rubbing away the drool that had pooled on the front of his notebook, before he opened it up.

The professor spoke way too fast, and Janus didn't even try to listen, while Logan's tired brain tried to keep up with everything that was being said. Janus went back and forth between zoning out and musing at Logan's determined attitude.

Despite the fact it was early, and Logan was clearly tired, he still valued his education and everything the professor said.

After this class, they had another one. In fact, their entire day was filled with classes, as that was the way school worked.

What a shame.

Janus and Logan had very different classes, with their morning lesson being the only one they shared, but that tiny bit of social interaction was enough to keep them from living their college life in complete solitude, so it was enough.

Logan went through today like he went through every day; a groggy mindset and the school's free, cheap coffee being both his source of hydration and the thing keeping him awake.

He participated when he could, but that wasn't often. More often than not he had his face buried in his notebook, frantically scribbling down notes in an attempt to keep up with his professors, and jot down his own thoughts.

Normally, he could work fast, but it's hard to focus on so little sleep and sustenance.

After school, Logan sluggishly walked home, as per usual. He'd have a couple hours to study (or sleep) before he had to head to work.

And normally, he would do either of those things, but upon walking into his dinky apartment, grabbing a cup (which was one of the two he owned - flatware is expensive), and filling it with some questionable tap water, he decided he really had to look into more ways to make money.

With a sigh, he set his cup down, moving to his tiny couch instead. It was uncomfortable to sit on; stiff to the touch. He pulls his computer out of his backpack; it was one of the nicer things he owned, and his parents helped him buy it seeing as he needed one for school.

It was old, and very outdated, but it worked, and that was enough.

He patiently waits for the search engine to load up (understanding that his apartment's cheap wi-fi ran slowly, but he didn't have the money for his own router so this would have to do) before typing in "what are quick ways to make money?"

He was provided with a bunch of job options that he didn't even bother looking at.

He already had a job; he definitely didn't have time for a second one. Not with his already full schedule.

So why was he even looking? Did he want to gamble? Or join some sort of pyramid scheme? Maybe he was just looking to make sure there was nothing better out there.

And that's almost the conclusion he came to, until he came across a site that had "sugar daddy" in the URL. A sugar daddy...? Logan, surprisingly, didn't know what that was.

He clicks the link, opening a new tab as well to look up what a sugar daddy was while the link loaded.

He scans over the definition.

"A rich, older man who lavishes gifts on young people in return for their company or, more typically, sexual favors."

His face scrunches up. Money in return for sex? Isn't that... isn't that prostitution? Isn't that illegal?

Surprisingly, no. It's one of the few exceptions to that law. And Logan stares at that link for a few seconds, considering it.

Well...

He sighs, closing his computer, as he sinks deeper into the uncomfortable couch. He lets his eyes rest for a second, momentarily soothing the burning that's always there nowadays.

He can't let himself fall asleep, though, as he knows there's always the possibility he'll sleep through his alarm, and he can't even risk getting fired from his job. That was currently his only source of income, which helped him pay bills and get some food every once in a while.

With a sigh, he reopened his eyes, and his computer, bringing him to a sign in page on the sugar daddy website.

Was he actually considering this?

...yes.

He quickly types in his name and age, as well as inputting his gender, and inserting a profile picture (albeit a very awkward one), before typing up a short bio.

"I just don't want to starve."

Yeah, mood.

Afterwards, he's brought to a Tinder-esque screen, showing other profiles with a red thumbs down and a green thumbs up on the bottom of the screen. When Logan hovered his mouse over them, they lit up, showing they were buttons.

"Hmm," he hummed, pushing his glasses up as he scans over the first profile, already cringing at the age. "67." Yikes.

Well, he'll do what he has to, but maybe with someone a little bit younger... if there even were any younger people on here. Logan honestly was hoping for a miracle, unrealistically so.

But, he pressed the thumbs-down button nonetheless, deciding he'd at least try.

"58." Eh.

"49." Getting better...

"23."

Woah. Twenty-three? This fucker was only a couple years older than Logan was.

Logan quickly skimmed over their profile. The profile picture was blurry, and normally Logan would take that as a bad sign, but he was desperate.

"Remus Prince, 23

here for a fun and sexy time ;))) will treat my sweet lil baby right ;000"

Well, it was childish, and Logan found himself slightly annoyed with the usage of emoticons and the improper capitalization, but, he really would rather sleep with a younger man.

With one final re-evaluation of this decision, he clicks the thumbs-up button, taking him to a chat feature. Oh, interesting.

Logan, who was pretty socially stunted, hummed, as he tried to figure out an appropriate way to start this conversation.

'Hey.'

Well, that was a good start. He set his computer to the side, standing up to grab his cup of water and carry it back to the couch. When he sat down, he saw he already had a reply. Damn, did people just have constant free time?

'hey there cutie ;))'

'i take it ur lookin for a daddy <33??'

No, Logan was just on this website for fun. He rolled his eyes, and then cringed at the idea of referring to this man as his 'daddy.' Ew. He'd stick to Remus for now.

'In a sense, yes, assuming your referring to the 'title.''

He had to be sure.

'pfft- nerd'

';) just joking'

'and yes, that is what i meant smh. so when do you wanna meet, baby?'

Logan frowned slightly at being called 'baby,' not being able to properly identify how it made him feel. Weird, definitely. Ugh, this was all confusing and, God, he couldn't believe he was actually doing this.

'Tomorrow,' Logan answers. before providing the time after he'd be out of school. They could talk in the few hours Logan had before work, and perhaps he could get a better sense on what being a sugar baby was going to be like.

Remus accepts (adding many unnecessary emojis and emoticons along with a simple "that works"), and Logan sighs as he shut his computer yet again.

He discards it in favor of pulling out his notebook and reviewing the notes he had taken today.

School took his priority until his job started, and provided a good distraction from the now looming concept of meeting his future sugar daddy.

Wow, he still couldn't believe he actually resorted to a solution like that. This option is.... mediocre at best.

It was so unlike him, but desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposes.

In order to distract himself, and also kill some time before he has to head into work, he studies the notes he had made, repeating and re-writing in an effort to burn them into his memory. He does this for a couple hours, up until his phone rings. It's an alarm, labelled "get ready for work."

He ends up doing just that, combing through his hair and quickly scrubbing his face in order to look more presentable. He then fixes his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles and trading out his tie for his work apron. He didn't put it on right away, as he still had to walk to work, but he did fold it neatly over his arm.

He speed-walks to his job, and works throughout the night.

Of course, he was aware of the recommended eight-to-ten hours of sleep people were supposed to get in order to be healthy, but Logan had been functioning just fine on the three hours of sleep he got daily (if even that).

Logically, three hours was a complete sleep cycle. It's just recommended by doctors that people get three cycles.

But Logan didn't have the time to sleep for nine hours a night. Not unless he wanted to drop out of college and move back in with parents (both of which he definitely did not want to do).

He completes the tedious tasks his work gives him, hardly socializing with any of his co-workers, all of which looked equally as tired as he did, before heading home. Perhaps one would be more afraid of walking home alone in the middle of the damn night, but Logan knew the sun would rise in half an hour or so. That, and at least kidnappers would give him a temporary relief from work and school.

And murder would permanently relieve him from both! There was no downside.

When he gets back to his apartment, he folds up his apron and puts it away, before packing all his notes and supplies back into his bag. He checks himself in the bathroom as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

The purple bags on his eyes were growing increasingly prominent. That wasn't great.

He checks his phone after a moment, before humming as he trudged back into the living room and slipped on his shoes, deciding that he'd try and sleep after school today-

Nope! He groaned, as he remembered his meeting with that sugar daddy. What was his name again? Logan tried to think back to it, before his phone rang, the alarm for school going off, distracting him. He dismisses it, adjusting his bag, before heading out the door. Curse morning classes.

He ends up in the lecture hall earlier than most everyone else, as per usual, although Janus is already at his seat. Legs kicked up on the table. As per usual.

"Good morning," Logan greets him, setting his bag down and pulling out his notes.

Janus hums in response, scrolling through his phone. His phone that Logan had never seen before.

"Is that a new phone?" Logan questions, raising an eyebrow. He knew Janus had more access to money than he did (as he often came to school with new rings or fancy tailored clothes) but there was nothing wrong with his old one.

Janus looks at Logan, momentarily confused, before he blinks in realization of the question. "Oh, yeah. It looked cool, and my old one was a bit slow."

"Ah."

Logan couldn't even imagine just spending money carelessly on himself. His phone, while outdated and cracked, could still call, text, and set alarms. If it wasn't broken, why would he need a new one?

With that short exchange, both of them went back to their own devices (literally, in Janus's case) as they wait for class to start.

However, Logan finds that he can't focus, instead thinking about what this afternoon's meeting would have in store for him. The sugar daddy - who Logan had remembered was named Remus - seemed flirtatious over text (although Logan was bad at identifying romantic social cues due to lack of exposure, so he could have just been really friendly), but Logan couldn't picture meeting him.

The unpredictability of the event annoyed him, and what annoyed him even more was that he didn't even know what Remus looked like! His profile picture was blurry and extremely hard to make out.

Guess he'd discover what he looked like upon meeting him, as that wasn't dangerous.

He tries to focus throughout class, once again leaning over his work and scribbling rapid notes, but his mind can only listen to the teacher for so long before he's thinking about the meeting again.

Ugh, if he knew he was going to be this distracted by an interaction that hasn't even happened yet, he would just not have scheduled the meeting at all.

Janus seemed to notice that Logan wasn't focusing solely on the class as he usually would, but didn't ask about it. He didn't want to intrude, and he knew Logan would probably give a vaguely concerning answer anyway.

So, instead, Janus left Logan to sort through his own problems alone, like any half-decent friend probably would.

Logan ends up being distracted throughout the rest of the day. Funny how one instance can absorb all of one's mental energy. He still paid attention as well as he could (as he would have otherwise been upset with himself), but near the end of the school day, he finds himself rather antsy. He's not nervous, despite the fact he has fair reason to be. No, he's overly curious, and eager to live through a new experience.

Even if he was unhappy about how his life had managed to come to this. Not that there was really anything he could do about it, without throwing his life out of order.

At the end of the day, he walked home as quickly as he could. He needed time to himself to prepare for Remus's arrival. Not physically, as he looked presentable enough in that regard, but mentally.

When he gets back to his apartment, he checks his phone for the time, before tossing his bag near the couch. There's still about ten minutes until the time Logan requested meeting Remus at, but he's anxiously awaiting his arrival nonetheless.

Those ten minutes pass, and Logan has pulled out his schoolbook, reviewing equations for the upcoming exam in his science class. Another ten minutes go by as Logan gets immersed in the material, before there's a knock on the door.

Logan blinks, drawn out of his finally focused state, before he checks the time. Ten minutes past when he and Remus had scheduled.

Was he late? If he was, that wouldn't be the best start to a first impression.

Logan got up and opened his door, revealing a tall, thin man with pale skin and messy brown hair. He was wearing a pale green tank top and cargo shorts, and had brown eyes that seemed almost red when the light hit them right.

He also had a thin mustache gracing the space above his top lip.

The man grinned and leaned against Logan's door frame.

"Heya there, babes," he greets, before just walking inside. Logan's too stunned to really say anything, so all he can do is shut the door behind him. "You're Logan Berry, yeah?"

It takes Logan a moment to find his voice, so jarred by the young man in front of him. He looked younger than Logan. And not as rich or as fancy as Logan had pictured him. He honestly expected a well-groomed man in a regal suit to show up to his door.

Yet, he was greeted with... this.

"Yeah," Logan answers, after a moment. "I take it you're... Remus."

"Bingo, baby!" Remus says, with a grin, as his hands find Logan's waist. That, mixed with the nickname, made Logan feel weird.

An unidentifiable way, but mostly just hot.

Remus snickers. "Man, you're cute. I really lucked out, huh?"

"Uh, I guess," Logan responds, standing stiff in Remus's hold. "You look younger than I expected."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Logan averts his gaze and shrugs, feeling awkward and inexperienced in this situation. And everything was moving very fast; Logan had no time to process and retain a lot of the information being thrown his way.

"Yeah, that's fair. I just know some people have a kink for age differences. Although, you're the same age I am, so I guess that wouldn't make much sense."

Logan listened to him talk, eyebrow raising slightly at the age kink comment.

He knew what the definition of a kink was, but an age kink...?

"Ah," Logan says, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. There's silence for a moment, before Remus snickers again.

"Wow, you're really awkward."

"And you're really blunt," Logan counters, knowing that Remus is right. He doesn't know what to do here; he's never been in this situation before.

Remus laughs at Logan's words though, pulling him closer, which causes Logan to flush at the contact. He... he had never been this physically close to anyone before.

"Are you blushing?" comes Remus's voice, and Logan just sighs.

"Clearly."

Remus backs up a bit, his hands moving from Logan's waist to his face, cupping it, before tilting it this way and that way. Logan looks confused, and still unsure of what to do with his own hands.

Remus's peppy face falls for a moment, looking like he was studying Logan, before he clears his throat.

"Have you ever had a sugar daddy before?" he asks, and Logan wonders if it's really that obvious. He would have brought it up at some point anyway, because he's confused as hell, but this works.

"No."

Remus hums. "Have you ever had sex before?"

"No."

"Have you ever been in a relationship before?"

Yes, platonically, but Logan could tell that he meant romantically, which prompted Logan to answer "no."

Remus laughed, his face lighting back up. "Damn, you're new to all of this then! This'll be fun."

Fun? What did that have to do with Logan being new to this whole ordeal?

"So, you do at least know what having a sugar daddy means, right?" Remus asks, as he pulls Logan to the couch via an arm around his waist.

He expects to sit down next to him, but he ends up getting pulled into Remus's lap before he can even process what's happening.

However, Remus does finally take the time to ask "you're comfortable with this, right?"

"Having a sugar daddy?"

Remus snorts, his hands rubbing Logan's thighs. "Well, partially. I was more so referring to me being all touchy. It's technically part of the job, ya know, sex for money and all that, but since you're new to this, it's worth making sure."

Logan has to think about that for a genuine minute, because he is indeed new to this, and it's making him feel weird, but he decides it's a good kind of weird.

So he nods. "Yeah. I suppose I'm comfortable with this. It's just new to me."

Remus grins, his hands sliding back up to Logan's waist and pulling him closer. "Are you comfortable with kissing, too?"

Logan's face flushes involuntarily at the question, and at the sight of Remus smirking at him with hungry eyes.

"I- well- I've never kissed anyone before."

"Virgin in all regards, huh? Don't worry, I'll teach you all there is to know. Perks of the job." Remus cups his face, his voice lowered. "Provided I have your consent, of course."

Logan gulps, his face hot, as he nods.

"Verbal consent, Lo."

"Yeah- yeah you have my consent."

Remus smiles, before leaning it fully, pressing his lips against Logan's. Logan still feels awkward, and unsure of what to do, but he guessed the best way to learn would be to just do what he thought he should.

So, he moves his own hands, which were previously laying lax in his lap, onto Remus's shoulders, and Remus grins into the kiss, before tilting his head and deepening it. His tongue slips past Logan's lips, before Logan suddenly pulls away.

"What was that?" Logan asks, before Remus has the chance to ask if he's okay.

Remus looks puzzled for a moment, before he grins. "That was french kissing, silly. Man, despite looking like a nerd, you're really clueless."

Logan frowns, which prompts Remus to kiss him yet again.

"I just don't understand this. I need to do more research on it, it seems," Logan says, mostly muttering to himself. Perhaps it would have been better if he researched kissing and sexual techniques. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so inexperienced in this situation.

However, Remus seems to disagree. "What you need," he begins, his hands on Logan's waist suddenly tightening. "Is for me to take care of you." He suddenly changes their position, pinning Logan to the couch, while Remus smirks over top of him. "Lucky for you, I'm surprisingly good at that."

Logan's face is dark red, and he's speechless yet again. But he doesn't need to talk, as Remus's lips reconnect with his, and Logan closes his eyes and lets himself relax into it. His normally stiff shoulders ease, and his arms slide back around Remus's shoulders, subconsciously pulling him closer.

Once again, Remus deepens the kiss, but this time Logan was at least expecting it. What he wasn't expecting were Remus's hands untucking his shirt and sliding up it. He shivers at Remus's hands running up his chest, before moaning when they reach his nipples.

Remus snickers, as he breaks the kiss. "Damn, you're really cute, Logan."

"Uh-huh," Logan responds, arching his chest into Remus's touch, as they pinch and twist at his nipples. "You've said that already."

"I'm gonna keep reinforcing the idea," Remus says, sticking out his tongue. Then he helps Logan take his shirt off all the way, fully exposing Logan's chest.

"Wow, you're very thin," Remus comments, hands lightly running over Logan's ribs, which were way more prominent than is healthy. "How often do you eat?"

"I'm not the best at reading social cues, but are you sure this is the best time to ask that question?"

Remus stares at him for a moment, before shrugging. "Not necessarily, but after this I'm buying us dinner."

"What?" Logan says, as he sits up slightly. "Why?"

Remus looks at him if he's stupid, before remembering that Logan is new to this. "Okay, so, this is probably not the best time to give a lesson, but sugar daddies pay their sugar babies for sex. I thought you'd at least know that."

"I did. I thought that was money."

"Well, it can just be money, but they also get paid in other things. Like jewelry and clothes, or food. Necessities and gifts."

"Oh," Logan says, as he pushes up his glasses. "I suppose that makes sense. You don't have to though."

"Don't have to do what?"

"Buy dinner."

And once again, Remus looks at him as if he's stupid. "Logan, we're literally about to have sex. This agreement - the one between daddies and babies - is we have sex and then I pay you. Me not paying you would sort of defeat the whole purpose."

Logan blinks, before just nodding. Yeah, that seems fair.

Remus seems happy the conversation is over, as his attention turns back to Logan's chest. He leans down and licks a stripe up it, an action that Logan would cringe at if he didn't find it weirdly hot.

Remus's mouth then latches onto one of his nipples, tongue messing with it, before he sucks lightly around it. Logan's hands gripped tighter at Remus's shoulders, his nails accidentally digging into his back, and he lets out a moan that makes him slap a hand over his mouth afterwards, his face dark red.

It's not his fault his body was so sensitive. Remus's touches just felt so good. And the way he was eyeing up at Logan made him flush darker.

Logan had to look away, tucking his face into the crook of his elbow as Remus moved away from his nipple and turned his attention to Logan's pants instead. He quickly makes work of unbuttoning his cheap jeans before tugging them down and tossing them to the side, hardly hesitating before pulling Logan's boxers down as well, his embarrassingly hard cock springing up at the action.

He feels strangely vulnerable under Remus, as he's now naked and on display while Remus is still fully clothed.

And Remus is eyeing up and down, licking his lips, as if Logan's his next meal.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Remus asks, and Logan gulps and nods.

"Yes, I'm sure," he says. It's for the money; that's why he took the offer in the first place, but now he found himself extremely curious about the situation he had gotten himself into.

Remus nods at his answer, reaching into the pocket of his shorts, before pulling out a small bottle and a small, square package. Noticing the curious look Logan gave the bottle, he hands it to him, before working to pull off his own clothes.

"Lube," Logan states, while reading the bottle. Unsurprisingly, he didn't learn about safe gay sex in school, because all they teach, if they teach sex at all, is straight sex.

Which is stupid, considering not everyone is straight, but whatever.

"You need it," Remus explains, pulling his shirt off. "It's to make sure you don't feel pain while I fuck you. Also to keep your asshole from tearing. It's a necessity for anal sex."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Remus hums, working to unbutton his pants. "I always carry a bottle considering some people just don't have it lying around, and nothing else should be used as a substitute."

He snickers as Logan reads over the small print over the bottle.

"Like you, for example. You look like you've never seen lube in your life."

"I haven't."

"Yeah, makes sense."

Logan hands the bottle back when Remus reaches for it, only then fully realizing that Remus was just as nude as he was.

He takes a moment to scan over Remus's body. He's thin, as Logan could tell when he first arrived, but he's also paler underneath his clothes. He has a few scars littering his chest, arms, and legs.

Logan would ask what they were from if Remus didn't immediately snicker.

"See something you like?" he asks, playfully, earning an eye-roll from Logan.

"Not necessarily."

"Ouch, you wound me, Logan."

Logan rolls his eyes again, before going back to evaluating Remus's body. Mainly, just trying to study it enough to commit it to memory, while Remus works on squirting some lube onto his fingers.

Logan's eyes shamelessly look towards Remus's cock, eyes widening slightly at the sight of it.

His own cock was a little above average, but Remus's was definitely bigger than his. That thing was going to go inside him?

The thought made Logan shiver and blush involuntarily, but Remus didn't seem to notice, instead grabbing Logan's thigh with his clean hand and lifting it up slightly.

"What are you doing?" Logan asks, still propped up on his elbows, as Remus grazes his teeth over Logan's thigh.

"I'm going to stretch you," Remus says with a hum. "Since you're new to this, and specifically a virgin, it's important to prep you before you take my big cock." It's said semi-seriously and semi-flirty, but Remus's tone is enough to make Logan go red in the face.

He himself couldn't believe he was blushing at some flirty words and a few sensual touches, but alas, he was.

"Okay?" Remus asks, drawing Logan out of his thoughts. Logan nods, before responding with "yeah, okay."

Remus smiles, before slowly easing one finger into Logan. Logan gasps at the feeling, hands grasping the stiff cushion beneath him.

It felt... weird. Not bad, but definitely strange.

Remus slowly pushes the finger in and out of him, before sliding another finger in him, scissoring him open. Remus seems pretty focused on making sure Logan's properly stretched, but he also takes the time to nip at Logan's thighs, earning a few gasps and grunts from Logan.

He'd leave a few hickeys over his body, but he wanted to make sure Logan was comfortable with sex before he did anything a bit more extreme. He'd have to ask Logan about some of his kinks and boundaries when they weren't literally about to fuck so he could plan ahead.

Remus ends up pushing a third finger in, steadily pumping them in and out of Logan, before Logan tries to roll his hips down involuntarily, feeling the urge to get more pleasure.

Remus grins at this, before pulling his fingers out, earning a whine from Logan.

Remus shushes him with a quick kiss, wiping his fingers against Logan's couch (not like Logan noticed anyway) as he quickly tears open the condom package. He doesn't break the kiss as he spreads Logan's thighs apart, one of them being smashed against the vertical cushions, and the other was practically dangling off the couch.

"You gotta relax for me, okay baby?" Remus says, voice smooth, as Remus quickly works to lube the condom up as an extra precaution, before he lines his cock up with Logan's entrance. Logan nods, not sure what he's about to feel (assuming it'll feel at least similar to Remus's fingers) so he's partially unsure of how to brace himself.

He's surprised, however, as Remus's cock slowly slides into him, and he tenses as his hands tightly grip the couch.

"You okay?" Remus asks, hands slowly massaging Logan's thighs. "You're not in any pain, right?" He sounds slightly concerned, although he really still just seems casual.

"No- no pain," Logan breathes out, biting his lip. "It's just... weird. I'm not used to it."

"You'll get used to it eventually," Remus responds, with a grin. "Provided you wanna stick with me."

Logan rolls his eyes, as this was definitely not the right time to even mention that, considering Remus's cock was halfway inside of him at this moment

Remus is still for a moment though, giving Logan a moment to adjust and to completely process what was happening.

After a minute or so, Logan finally nods his head, his body relaxing completely.

"Good?" Remus asks, his hands sliding until they reach Logan's hips. His hands grip there a bit firmer, and Logan shifts slightly, before answering "good."

Remus's hands hold tight to Logan's waist, as he manages to slide his cock in fully.

Logan lets out a whine as it's fully inside of him, his hands moving to tightly grip Remus's shoulders. Remus rubs his hips, before leaning down to kiss over Logan's collarbone.

He still wants to bite down, and he doesn't hesitate to drag his teeth over the unhealthily prominent bone, but he resists biting. For now, at least.

When Logan starts shifting a bit to get more friction, Remus smirks, and he slides his cock halfway out, before thrusting harshly back in, causing Logan to let out a high moan.

Remus's smirk grows, as Logan bites his lip, his nails digging into Remus's shoulders.

"Remus," he breathes out, head laid back against the cushions, silently begging him to do that again. He'd verbally ask himself if not for the weird feeling inside of him that sent blood rushing to his face, which provided a pretty sight for Remus.

Remus obviously understood (he'd had enough sex to understand cues), as he pulls out again, almost fully this time, before slamming back into him, causing Logan's back to arch, as he cries out Remus's name, his legs closing instinctively around Remus's waist, effectively pulling him closer.

Although, Remus didn't seem to mind that much, as he connects their lips for a messier than usual kiss, as Remus had begun thrusting into Logan at a steady, albeit slow, pace. And while it wasn't as extreme Remus could go, or wanted to go, it was a lot for Logan, especially all at once and so suddenly in his life.

But, it's not like he could exactly complain in between all the pathetic noise involuntarily spilling from his mouth. Babbles of nonsense, as his body is introduced to more and more exciting stimulation.

Then, Remus suddenly hits something inside of him that shoots pleasure up his spine, his eyes rolling back into his head as his toes curl, as he whines out Remus's name.

"That spot feel good, baby?" Remus asks him, and Logan can only nod in response, his eyes now screwed shut in pleasure as Remus continues to thrust into that spot, earning loud moans and pitiful begs from Logan.

"Fuck..." Remus mutters, his nails digging into Logan's hips, puncturing the skin slightly. Logan would complain about how the germs from Remus's hands could potentially cause the very small wounds to become infected, if he wasn't too busy drooling and moaning.

"You close, Lo?" Remus grunts out, earning a gasped out "yes!"

Remus chuckles lowly, as one of his hands releases Logan's hip and instead grabs hold of his red cock, stroking it fast and irregularly compared to his thrusts. The action had Logan moaning, before he comes across his chest with a whine of Remus's name.

Remus, however, doesn't stop the assault on his cock, continuing to stroke it and thrust into Logan mercilessly. Logan whines at the overstimulation, laying lax against the couch as he continues to let Remus please himself, before Remus's nails dig hard into him and he groans, coming into the condom.

He stays inside of Logan for a moment, both of them catching their breaths, before he pulls out, sliding the condom off and tying it shut, before he gets up to go find a trashcan to toss it in.

When he comes back to the couch, Logan's eyes are shut, glasses askew on his face.

"Logan," he says, as he grabs his clothes and starts sliding them back on, ignoring the fact he was covered in sweat and had just gotten done having sex.

He receives no answer, so he gently pokes Logan's cheek after gathering all his stuff. "Logan?"

Still nothing. He hums, before shrugging. If he was tired enough to sleep, might as well let him sleep. He did end up stalking around his small, and rather poor looking apartment though, in search of a blanket. He finds one, neatly folded on the edge of Logan's bed, and he smiles as he brings it back into the living room. He pays no mind to the fact Logan's covered in come as he drapes the blanket over him.

Then, he pulls out his wallet, and sets multiple bills on the table, placing a half-full cup of water that was sitting on the table already on top of it, to keep it in place.

Then, whistling a strangely eerie tune, he walked off, making sure to lock Logan's apartment door behind him, for Logan's sake.

And, damn, this would be one hell of a thing to wake up and remember.

Part 2

#intrulogical #sanderssides #sanders sides #thomas sanders #thomassanders #logansanders #logan sanders #logic sanders #remus sanders #remussanders #loganxremus #logan x remus #sanders sides fic #sanders sides smut #agp fic #intrulogical sugar daddy au

160 notes · View notes

spine-buster · 3 years

Text

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | two

A/N: Thank you guys for all the positive feedback on Part One! I’m so happy you guys are enjoying the series thus far.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

* * * * *

Brock Boeser was intoxicated by the feel of Grace’s lips. It was all he could think about and all he could feel every time he was alone and closed his eyes. Well, that was a lie – that wasn’t all he felt. Sometimes he could feel the weight of Grace’s body on his lap, like when they would make out like teenagers on each other’s couches after hanging out or before hanging out or during hanging out – any time, really. Sometimes he could feel her long hair sprawled across his chest from when they lay in bed together. Sometimes he could hear her giggle or see her smile or hear her voice being the kindest, most polite and gentle person on planet Earth to everyone and anyone she’d meet.

For what it was worth, Grace Gillespie was intoxicated by the feel of Brock’s body. It was all she could think about every time she was alone, and she found herself dreaming about the next time she’d be able to feel it. His strong arms with his toned biceps; his abs, defined by a work schedule and sport that took up most of his time; his thick thighs…but what she loved most had to be his back. It was weird for her to say, but it was. It was the definition – she could see every muscle. She could trace every bump with her fingertips and make him shiver. The entirety, all of him, was just so…beautiful.

It was Grace who had inadvertently given it away, so to speak – them seeing each other – when she uploaded a story of herself at the Canucks season opener. The rumours started in no time. The story was screen-recorded and posted on every blog imaginable because Brock Boeser was, well, Brock Boeser. He was hot, and nice, and sweet, and every girl in Vancouver with even just a passing interest in hockey wanted to hook up with him. It was also compounded by the fact that in the 90s the Gillespie’s put in a bid to own the Canucks. Grace just tuned it all out. Brock Boeser Dating a Billionaire’s Daughter! Those who loved alliteration must have loved the headlines. In any case, there were more important things to worry about, and more important things to dedicate her time to.

Grace was at work when she got a call from Brock. That meant the team flight had landed and he was probably still at the airport or had just gotten into his apartment. She liked how her heart skipped a beat whenever he called. “D’you want to meet some of my friends?”

That question took her for a loop. “Who?”

“My friend Elias, but we call him Petey.”

“You mean Elias Pettersson?” she clarified.

“Yeah,” he giggled slightly. “He’s been fancying himself a chef lately. He lives with his best friend Svea. He wants us over for dinner.”

“Is he making Swedish food?”

“Don’t know. I’ll confirm with him. But is that a yes?”

“Well, if he’s cooking…”

***

“You told her what?”

“Petey—”

“Boes, I can’t fucking cook!” Elias exclaimed once it dawned on him what Brock had just done. “Why would you invite her here?!”

“I wasn’t thinking—”

“Clearly not!”

“What’s all the commotion?” Svea asked as she emerged from “her side” of the apartment, hearing the screaming between the two men. It wasn’t exactly new, to hear Brock and Elias screaming at each other, but it was usually over video games. This sounded like something different.

“Brock just invited his new girlfriend over to our place for dinner,” Elias huffed.

Svea furrowed her brows. “What’s wrong with that? We’ve been wanting to meet her for a long time, Elias.”

“Brock said I’d be cooking,” Elias deadpanned.

Svea turned to Brock with an emotionless look on her face. “Are you dumb?!” she exclaimed.

“Sveeeeeeaaaaaaaa,” Brock pleaded, his hands clasped together, about to get on his hands and knees in front of her.

“You need to fix this Svea. I can’t – I can’t – I can barely even boil an egg! What made you think I’d be able to cook a dinner to impress a girl I’m not even trying to impress?!” Elias demanded.

“Shut it, the both of you,” Svea said sternly, raising her hands slightly. “When is she coming here?”

“Saturday night, after our game against Toronto.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m going to make sausage stroganoff. You better bring me a good bottle of wine,” she glared at Brock, “and you better go to the Swedish bakery to get the good Swedish sausage,” she directed towards Elias.

Brock fell down to his knees. “Thank you Svea. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved them off. “Now if you’re going to play video games, keep your voices down. I’m studying.”

When he heard her shut the door to the den, Brock looked at Elias. “When are you gonna marry her?”

Elias huffed. “She’s my best friend, Brock.”

***

“So they’re best friends from Sweden,” Grace wanted to make sure she got everything right before she met Elias Pettersson and Svea Nilsson for the first time. “But you’re saying they’re in love with one another and don’t know it?”

“Exactly,” Brock nodded his head. “You’ll see it within, like, a minute of meeting them. They’re just…I don’t know, dumb.”

Grace giggled slightly as Brock pressed the number for Elias’s floor in the elevator. The doors shut and soon they were speeding up. “Does anyone else on your team know about us?”

“Some of the guys I’m closer with do,” Brock said. “Troy, Thatcher, Marky…they all know about you. Do your friends know about me?”

Grace snorted. “I told them about you after that first night at Starbucks.”

Brock laughed, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “That eager, eh?”

“When you know, you know,” Grace said. “You know, don’t you?”

Brock nodded. “I know.”

That was the beauty of what they had going. They just fell in to everything. There was Starbucks, then there was exchanging of their numbers, then there were texts back and forth, and phone conversations, and the rush of everything else. It was quick but it was organic. Nothing was rushed. They were going at the pace they wanted to go. There wasn’t even a heart-to-heart sit down or discussion about “where they stand relationship-wise” or “Am I into this more than you?”. It was just…understood. They knew. They were exclusive. Neither was seeing anybody else. Neither wanted to see anybody else. It was what Grace knew a healthy relationship should blossom into. It was what Brock knew he wanted from another person.

Elias opened the door to the apartment, greeting Grace sweetly before walking them in to the kitchen and dining room, where the table had already been set – no doubt done by Svea, too. Grace noticed that Svea, the roommate, was the one cooking instead of Elias, and she was absolutely mortified. She made sure to make her way into the kitchen once Brock punched Elias in the gut about something.

“Hi I’m Svea,” Svea introduced herself sweetly as she was whisking a sauce in a deep saucepan. She had on an apron and everything. “It’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry that I look like a mess right now.”

“I’m so sorry – Brock said Elias was cooking tonight because he fancied himself a chef – I didn’t want to put any pressure on you—”

“Oh no no no! Don’t worry!” Svea waved her off. “God, are you kidding? I wouldn’t want Elias to make you anything. He might give you food poisoning.”

Grace giggled. “So what’s on the menu tonight, anyway?”

“Sausage stronganoff,” Svea replied. “It’s a Swedish dish. Elias’s favourite, actually. I thought I should make you Swedish food. You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

“No,” Grace said, smiling from ear to ear. “Sounds delicious.”

***

“They’re definitely in love,” Grace said once she and Brock walked out of the front doors of Elias’s condo building. Brock turned towards her dramatically, his eyebrows raised, about to throw his arms up in the air. “It’s so obvious. So obvious.”

“I told you!” he exclaimed.

“Why aren’t they dating yet?” she asked.

“Beats the shit out of me,” Brock said, shaking his head. “But they’re meant to be together. It’ll happen eventually. I just don’t want to wait until I’m, like, forty to see it.”

Grace smiled, and there was a moment of silence between the two as they walked along the street. “Can I ask you a question? About things happening eventually?”

“Sure…”

“D’you want to meet my dad?”

The words hung in the air as Brock considered the magnitude of what Grace was asking him. “You want me to meet your dad?”

Grace nodded. “I think he’ll really like you,” she began. “And my dad always, always wants to meet my boyfriends.”

“So you’ve had loads of other boyfriends?” he quipped.

Grace went to punch him in the gut, much like Elias did just hours earlier, but Brock dodged her easily and ended up grabbing her hand instead. “Of course I’ll meet your dad,” he said, softer this time, as he stepped into her personal space and wrapped his other arm around her body. “I’d love to.”

“Listen, I know I don’t have to warn you about what you’re gonna see when you get into the house, but—”

“Shhhh…” Brock cooed, bringing a finger up to her lips before leaning down to kiss her. “When you want me there?”

“How does Sunday Night Football sound?”

***

Brock had never seen such a beautiful modern mansion so big in his life. He’d trekked up to North Vancouver, to the address Grace gave him, and came face to face with a mansion overlooking the water. It was stunning. Fit for a billionaire, Brock thought. He wondered if Grace grew up in this house or if it was new. It looked new. And judging by its style –a bungalow – it was fit for someone who needed access to everything they needed on the same floor. Someone living with Parkinson’s, of course.

He rang the doorbell. After about a minute, the door opened and an unfamiliar face greeted him. “You must be Brock?” the woman asked, the door still only half-open.

“Yes ma’am.”

She opened the door fully. “I’m Angeline. I’m one of Mr. Gillespie’s caregivers,” she informed him, stepping aside so he could step into the massive foyer. Brock could hear the TV on in the distance and the clinking of some dishes in a faraway kitchen. “You’ll also meet Dana and Michelle, Mr. Gillespie’s others. He’s been expecting you. He’s been very excited to meet you.”

Brock slipped off his shoes, making sure not to drop the bottle of wine he brought (for reasons unknown; it wasn’t like Hamish could drink – it was just that him mom taught him never to show up to someone’s house empty-handed). “Oh, really?” he asked.

Angeline nodded her head. “He hasn’t been quiet about it since Grace said it to him. Plus, he’s a big Canucks fan. Let me bring you to him.”

Brock followed Angeline through the house until they got to the family room. It was massive, like everything else in the house, with lots of space. When he walked in, he saw Grace and Hamish. Their backs were to him, so he was able to observe them before they saw him. Grace was sitting right beside him in his chair, holding his hand as they paid attention to the football game just about to start on the screen. Grace was making some comment about the teams. Brock could see Hamish turn his head slowly to look at his daughter and nod. Everything about the set-up – Grace, Hamish, their positions, what was on TV, everything – reminded him of he and his dad. Even the handholding. Brock didn’t think he even held his dad’s hand as much when he was a kid out in public than he had the last few months – few years, really. Duke was really into the handholding. Brock could never, would never deny him.

Brock was soon snapped out of his trance by the sound of footsteps. One of the other caregivers walked right past him holding a plate of puréed food, bringing it to Grace. It was only then that Brock noticed the TV dinner table beside her. “She likes to feed him whenever she’s here,” Angeline said, noticing Brock’s staring. “If you need any help you can always call. We will be somewhere in the house,” she said before walking away.

Brock took a deep breath and walked towards Grace and Hamish. Upon hearing his footsteps, Grace looked his way. The smile on her face widened ten times over when she saw it was him. “Hi Brock,” she said softly, getting up from her seat quickly to greet him. She kissed him quickly behind her father’s back (quite literally) before moving and settling back into her chair. “Dad, Brock is here to meet you.”

Brock stepped into Hamish’s line of vision. So that he wouldn’t have to strain his neck to look up, Brock bent down on his knees. “Hi Hamish,” he held out his hand for a handshake. Slowly, Hamish’s hand came up to shake it. “It’s very nice to meet you. Grace has told me so much about you.”

“It’s…nice to…meet you…too,” he said, his words coming out slowly but surely. “You…like football?”

Brock smiled. “I love football.”

“Minnesota?”

“Minnesota.”

A smile crept onto Hamish’s face. “Good.”

***

Hamish wanted ice cream, so Grace got up and went to the kitchen, leaving him with Brock as they watched the football game together. Minnesota was winning, which made her dad pretty happy. And despite everything, she could tell he liked Brock. She knew he would – everybody liked Brock, he was the sweetest – but it made her happy knowing that he liked him. There were some ex-boyfriends of hers that he didn’t like. Some ex-boyfriends he straight-up disapproved of. Hamish had strong opinions and vocalized them always, and the Parkinson’s didn’t stop that. He didn’t create a three-billion-dollar company by being quiet.

When she finished putting the ice cream in the bowl, she began to head back to the family room. Dana stopped her momentarily to tell her that her dad’s bed was ready, whenever he was tired and needed to change into his pajamas. Grace thanked her, and before she could even step foot into the family room, she heard Brock’s voice. “Back straight, Mr. Gillespie. And let me get the straw.”

She stopped in her tracks so neither could see her. She watched from the side as Brock took the glass of water her dad had been drinking with dinner and brought it up to his lips, steadying the straw so it faced him. “Take your time, Mr. Gillespie. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Mr. Gillespie. I’m used to this. I’m not sure if Grace told you but my dad has Parkinson’s as well,” Brock said.

Hamish seemingly forgot about the water and straw. “He does?”

“Yes sir. And I help take care of him too, in the off-season. Just like Grace helps take care of you.”

Hamish brought a hand up slowly and placed it on Brock’s arm that was resting on the arm rest. “Does your father…ever speak…of his body…betraying him?”

Grace watched as Brock took a deep breath in. “All the time,” he nodded. “Ever since he got diagnosed.”

Hamish nodded slowly. “You and Grace…” he began, “taking care…of your parents. You’ll…you’ll look after one another.”

Brock nodded again, more assertively this time. “We will,” he said, bringing the water and straw closer to Hamish. He pursed his lips to start drinking, and Brock brought his other hand up to steady Hamish’s head and make sure it was as upright as possible. Hamish’s hand didn’t leave Brock’s forearm.

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years

Text

A Cursed Reality- JJk x Male Reader (Ch.5)

This chapter is a little longer than usual and very dialogue heavy. (also plenty of swearing). Sorry if the scene is disappointing but I'm not super good at fight scenes and I'm hoping to develop them as I go on. Also if I made [Name] OP then everything would be over too quickly.

Let me know what you think about the chapter in the comments (or the tags!!) enjoy

Last || Next

Chapter Five:

“Kugisaki-chan. Be honest with me. On a scale of Gojo to Yuji how stupid do you think I am?”

“Eh? Do you really want me to answer that?”

“... Yes”

“If I had to pick an idiot I’d say Gojo-sensei. He at least has the brain power to understand jujutsu. I mean he’s a childish and immature old man who ignores what’s staring him right in his face but he wouldn’t ask me what animal the pink panther was.”

[Name] uttered out a confused thank you before thinking ‘I have got to stop starting conversations like this’

He almost never gets the answer he wants. It’s like as soon as he asks the question he becomes humanized and not a mysterious special grade sorcerer a few seconds from ending someone’s life for finishing off the fruit snacks. (Based on a true story. Gojo can confirm.)

“You’re welcome. Why’d you ask anyway?”

“Actually I think I’ll jinx it if I talk about it. Plus I don’t want you to think poorly of your ‘superiors’ but let’s just say there are people plotting behind my back and I’m wondering if I have idiot written across the top of my head”

“Okay... “

“On a lighter note, do you think any of the other first years know how close we are?”

“I was asked whether or not the Pink Panther was a lion and spoken to in 6 word sentences just yesterday. You’re the only person I can hang out with. The other two are people I spend time with”

“What about Maki?”

“That’s totally different. You should know you have a totally different relationship with Gojo and Inumaki.”

“Explain”

“You and Gojo fight and tease each other like siblings or something and you and Inumaki spend time alone. Together. And sometimes you like go out and eat food and stuff”

“You make it sound like we’re dating”

“You’re not?”

“No”

“Hmm”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Name] absolutely hates talking on the phone and everyone knows this. Facetime has been like a happy medium whenever people need to get in touch with him but it’s still extremely annoying to have to have a face to face conversation over the phone.

“Why are you calling me Gojo?”

“My precious little [Name] I was just checking up on you to see how your day off is going?”

“It was going fine until you called and interrupted my peace”

“Don’t be like that [Name] I know you miss me”

“As if- No puppy- WAIT!”

Gojo furrowed his eyebrows “[Name]-chan?”

“Hmm?”

“Since when do you have a pet?”

“I made Fushiguro give me one of his divine dogs”

“Aww. That’s so sweet of Megumi. But you can’t keep calling him puppy. Give him a real name”

“He does have a real name I call him yu-yu”

“So who were you calling Puppy?”

“...Yuji”

“.....”

“Don’t make it weird”

“It’s already weird”

“Look me in the camera and tell me he doesn’t remind you of like a golden retriever or somethin”

“You made several points but still”

“It’s supposed to be derogatory”

“It’s a pet name”

“He’s hyper, adorable and excitable. I’m pointing out the obvious. Me calling him puppy has the same energy as calling someone four eyes”

“It does not”

“....I have to go Yuji just found out about Megan Thee Stallion”

----------------------------------------------

“Are you a Fall out boy emo or like Lorde sad boy?”

“That’s a loaded question”

“It most definitely is” [Name] replied holding back laughter “But I can like, vibe to either one so just play whatever music you like and I’ll enhance the atmosphere.”

“...Okay”

That day was definitely the most relaxed Fushiguro had been in weeks, and [Name] learned some very interesting things about Fushiguro’s…. tastes. They definitely had some things in common.

-------------------------------------------------

“You’re sending me on a mission”

“Yes”

“Alone?”

“[L.Name] you’re a special grade sorcerer. You can handle a first-grade curse on your own”

“I most definitely can, but so can others. Both Gojo and Okkotsu are away on missions. Are you telling me in your expert wisdom, you’re making the choice to dispatch all of the Special Grade sorcerer’s for first-grade curses? What if something happens on home turf.”

“I assure you if there’s an attack on the school Principal Yaga can handle the threat.”

“I’m not talking about the school.”

There was a brief silence in which [Name] just stared “You have your orders”

“I do”

And [Name] absolutely did have his orders. Ones that aligned with his personal feelings. You see, a little while ago Gojo ordered [Name] to protect Yuji. And if anything were to happen to the precious angel, it would be the one day that both he and Gojo were away. Yaga cares more for the rules than Gojo or [Name]. That was one thing [Name] didn’t like about both Yaga and Nanami. They cared about the kids, but only to an extent. In their eyes the kids would die out or grow older but rules wouldn’t change, and Yuji’s life mattered less to them than the stagnant outdated rules.

The larger problem was whether or not [Name] was willing to face the consequences for not following orders from the “respected” higher ups. Then there was the whole issue of actual people being in danger and that wouldn’t go over well, not with the old assholes nor with [Name]’s conscience.

‘I fucking hate Satoru.’ [Name] thought as he set out to do actual work. Ever since he got sent on that mission he found himself caring for more and more people. If he was going to exorcise the curse and return to make sure Yuji and the others first years were all safe, he would have to race against the clock. There was no doubt in his mind that something was going to happen today and he knew Sukuna wouldn’t let Yuji die without a fight.

---------------------------------------------------------------

“What the actual fuck is going on anymore?? THREE FIRST YEARS WERE SENT TO DEFEAT A WHAT?” [Name] yelled into the phone

“A cursed womb”

“Say it as it really is Ijichi! They were sent in to fight a fucking special grade curse. They’re barely equipped to fight a second grade curse, and it isn’t as if having you there is going to help them much”

Ijichi flinched at that. [Name] only went for low blows when he was pissed, and it was obvious pretty soon someone would have to face his wrath. And because he knew what was best for his safety and peace of mind, Ijichi answered [Name]’s question before he asked

“I warned them not to engage a special grade so they should be fine until you get here. I lowered the curtain myself so you’ll be able to get in. They’re at Eishu Juvenile Detention Center”

“I’ll be there in 10”

[Name] would probably make it in less time than that but he always made sure to be careful with making promises. There was always a chance he would run into some issues on the way there. Grabbing his things, he set out for the detention center hoping Nobara and Megumi were okay. Yuji was stronger than those two, though Megumi could be a suicidal idiot at times. If things got anymore serious they’d let Sukuna out, but that would be a whole other problem.

“Ijichi, i’m here”

“...[Name]”

“What?”

“Kugisaki is hurt. I'm driving back to the school.”

“If you’re driving back, why is the curtain still up?”

“Fushiguro went back in to deal with Sukuna who’s more than likely already taken care of the curse I recommend-”

[Name] hung up. “Fucking rule followers and their precious higher ups. And look what a mess I have to take care of” he said as he looked up at the curtain. He sighed and then walked through

“I don’t feel a curse- is that megumi” [Name] thought aloud

“He ain’t coming back” Sukuna teased “Don’t worry I’m in a good mood. Let’s talk”

“I’m not feeling particularly chatty” [Name] called out. Fushiguro and Sukuna turned to the second year in shock

“Fushiguro you should go”

“No. I’m not leaving you alone. And besides it’s my responsibility-”

“Do you think I’m here to kill Yuji?”

“...”

“I’m here to rescue your sorry asses. I was sent on a mission earlier and came back in a hurry to make sure you were okay. I’m a little sad I don’t get to meet the curse that hurt poor Kugisaki-chan but he’ll make do” [Name]’s voice became darker the longer he went on

“My fighting skill is nowhere near the level of Maki’s, but my cursed technique on the other hand… Don’t worry, Yuji’ll make it out alive”

Fushiguro hesitated. He trusted [Name], it was Sukuna who was the problem. The curse was cunning and took advantage of Fushiguro’s hesitation to enact his plan

“It seems he’s having a hard time changing back” Sukuna started “This must be a side effect of using me without restrictions. It’s most likely only a matter of time though… So i’ve been thinking about my next move.”

Before [Name] or Fushiguro could realize, Sukuna had ripped Yuji’s heart out, smiling as blood dripped out of his mouth and the gaping hole in his chest. The two of them froze. If he were at his best [Name] would’ve been able to stop Sukuna from continuing to monologue or even from swallowing another of his fingers. But he had defeated a first grade curse, dealt with the higher ups and rushed to the first years’ rescue within 3 hours.

Fushiguro seemed to follow the conversation as [Name] just stood there, his ears ringing as if he were standing too close to a bomb that went off.

“Itadori will return” Megumi said confidently “Even if it means his death. He’s that kind of guy”

And Megumi was right, [Name] knew of it. So he made a sacrifice. Fushiguro would have to deal with Sukuna while [Name] figured out what to do next. With two fingers Sukuna might’ve been able to resist [Name]’s compulsion. ‘No’ he thought ‘it would take a few more fingers before he was that strong.’

“Stop”

The both of them froze in place. There was a trail of blood running down Yuji’s chest but [Name] could tell Sukuna had done more damage to Megumi than Megumi had done to Yuji’s body

“Stay out of my way Megumi” [Name] said before looking in Sukuna’s eyes “Yuji, if you can hear me. I’m sorry”

“This brat’s not worth the effort” Sukuna smirked. He may not have been able to move but he was going to try and tempt the second year into losing his composure.

“Choke”

Sukuna began to gargle on the blood that was supposed to be pumping through Yuji’s body. Choking, he fell on the ground. Megumi’s eyes widened and he moved to say something but [Name] shot him a desperate, angry look picking up Yuji’s discarded heart shoving it into the empty cavity.

“Heal Him”

“It’s too late [Name]”

“Yuji?? No! NO! YUJI! SWITCH BACK I CAN MAKE HIM HEAL YOU”

“Megumi. [Name]. And Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei. Well I guess I don’t have to worry about him. Live a long life okay?” Yuji smiled as tears dripped onto his face

“I Heard A Rumor” [Name] whispered “That nothing happened and you were gonna be okay”

“What a nice rumor senpai” “Yuji whispered back before the light in his eyes faded

Fushiguro laid a hand on [Name]’s shoulder looking up to the sky as he tried to keep from crying. [Name] let out a pained scream shocking Fushiguro. Megumi wrapped his arms around [Name] trying to pull him up and meeting resistance Fushiguro just walked toward the exit before stopping. Without looking back he said “I’ll send Gojo to collect you both” and then walked off.

Gojo did come back to pick up the body and the shell shocked [Name] but when he showed up there was nothing there. As if the land behind the two had just up and walked away. Gojo wasn’t informed of [Name]’s rumor but assumed the boy did it out of rage. He was the only one able to wipe a location off the map so cleanly. What he didn’t realize that if the land had returned to its natural state as if nothing had ever happened, Yuji was bound to be okay

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x m!reader #x male reader #x reader #male reader #male reader insert #x m!reader #xmr

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tlou-1 · 3 years

Text

(Joel x Reader) - Home (Ch 3)

Chapter 3 - Patrol Partner

You awaken abruptly to banging on the door, followed by Bruce’s barking at the door. Shit - you had overslept and by quite a bit. You push the covers off and run down the stairs as quickly but calmly as possible. You could hear Jesse calling you from outside. “I am coming Jesus Christ!” you called as you opened the door.

“Well good morning to you too Y/N” Jesse laughed as he propped himself against the door.

“I know, I know, I have overslept. I was working the bar last night too” you replied, gesturing him to wait inside while you got your shit together.

“Why do you work yourself so hard, you know someone else could have picked up that shift?” He questioned taking a seat on the sofa whilst you went to ready yourself for the morning patrol.

Jesse had been a good friend since you had arrived in Jackson a few years ago. He was a number of years younger than you, being in his early twenties but ever since you started patrols together you became each others confidants, watching and guarding each others backs. He always asked and worried about how much work you took on but he knew it was just to keep yourself busy. You gave yourself a quick wash, changed into jeans, boots and a light jacket.

“Good to go” you said to Jesse still in the process of braiding your hair off your face. He shook his head “I take it we are still to drop old Bruce here off at Molly’s?”. You smile patting your fluffy, black mastiff “Aw stop stressing, she only lives across the road and I thought you would love an excuse to see her.” You nudge him jokingly before leaving you load your bag with the essentials;

Pistol, Rifle, Knife, Med kit, Water

“We are taking the new guy out today” Jesse says as you are locking the door behind you.

“Huh?” You weren’t really listening trying to remember if there was anything you had forgoten. Honestly maybe Jesse was right and you were taking on too much because your head was all over the place.

You hear a young voice calling out in exclamation “Holy shit Joel, look at the size of that dog!”. A young girl with auburn hair in a ponytail comes flying towards you, Jesse and Bruce.

“Ellie, slow down would ya!” You hear a familiar voice shout from across the street. The girl is sitting by Bruce staring at him in amazement. He seemed to like her, putting his head under her hand, inviting her to pet him.

“He is the size of a horse and so slobbery too” she laughs and she begins to pet his big head. “His name is Bruce and he seems to be pretty fond of you” you smile at her, what a spirited kid you thought.

Joel comes running across the street after her “Ellie, what did I say about running off” he exclaims putting the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“So Y/N meet your new patrol partner for the day” Jesse smiled throwing Joel the keys to the stable.

“Good Morning Joel” You smiled sleeply still waking up a bit.

“You already know each other?” Jesse asked confused.

“We already met last night” Joel explained “So looks like you’ll be showing me the ropes today, hope that’s not a bother. I asked Tommy to let me follow him but apparently you know the Crest Trail inside-“.

“I do” you interrupt - What is it with men and always thinking another man could do it better than you ever could?

“So as long as you can keep up and are as half a good shot as Jesse, it’s not a bother at all”. Joel scoffs, Jesse looks uncomfortable but Ellie laughs, “ I like her, she’ll keep you on your toes… and I like her dog”. You let her pet Bruce and offer him and your sister to keep her company whilst her Dad patrols with you.

“Eh Joel isn’t my Dad but that would be nice, I don’t know what there is to do around here yet” Ellie shrugs. You reassure her, she will get settled and meet some friends but in the meantime she could help Molly with some of Bruces training. Seemed strange is Joel wasn’t her Dad you wondered how did they cross paths and come to resemble a family living in Jackson.

___________________________

“Jeez you weren’t kidding when you said you could use that thing” Joel scoffs. You had followed the Crest Trail to its peak and spotted some infected across the way, too far off the path to reach but nothing your rifle and a scope couldn’t handle.

You offer Joel a chance to take out a couple infected across the way, always good practice and of course turns out he is an amazing shot just like his brother.

“Alright Texas Ranger, no need to look so pleased with yourself’ you laugh. He smirks and shrugs at you.

“Look Joel, I’m sorry I was sharp with you earlier. I am sure you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just some of the guys in Jackson seem to be constantly doubting what I am capable of and I am better at patrols than most of them” You sigh strapping your rifle to your holster. It was true, Jesse, Tommy, Maria and Molly were some of the few that actually would admit your level skill.

“I get it. You don’t need to explain to me. You met Ellie, well that little girl doesn’t let anyone tell her what or how something should be done, rightly so. Even in our guitar lessons, she tries to correct me” He laughs and you can’t help but join in.

After signing in at the post and a final check you take Joel out to the balcony.

“I want to show you something - see that over there?” you ask.

“The hotel? Oh, the shop”. You pointed to the music shop next to it. Its only about a half hour ride from here and you thought he might be able to find Ellie a guitar there so she could have one of her own for during their lessons.

At the music shop you discuss your musical interest, when Joel learned to play guitar, what you would like to be able to play if you could play. He manages to find an extra and smaller guitar for Ellie but doesn’t have enough room for the record player he also spotted. “Oh well, there is always next time if its still here”, he shrugs and straps the guitar to his horse.

Your ride back with Joel is peaceful as the summer sun sets across the skyline. “So you want to start those guitar lessons up again, maybe there is a Jimmi Hendrix in you we just don’t know about yet?” He says smugly riding ahead of you.

“Texas cowboy you are lucky you’re ahead of me or I might knock you off that horse. I told you not to make fun of me after that” you shout as you try to catch up with him but by the time you do, you’re already at the town gates.

Jumping off your horses, Joel grabs his gear and guitar from his horse. “First lesson is tonight at 8 o’clock, don’t be late” he says cooly before walking off.

#tlou #tlou part 2 #Joel miller #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller imagine #Joel Miller series #Joel Miller smut #tlou part two #tlou part ii #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou2 fanfic #tlou2 jesse #dina tlou #ellie miller #ellie williams

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

i’m an idiot. i screw everything up.

Titans 3.03

still here, still doing this. these reviews take a fair bit of time that i cobble together across days (like, ten minute chunks during breaks, etc) and i tend to struggle to keep up with episodes as they come out. this means that by the time i’m done with one, most of my stuff is jossed (or geoffed in this case? idk) or outdated and the post sinks like a stone into oblivion. so! i’m going to change things up a bit with this one and write as i see the episode rather than collecting my thoughts later. in my experience with spn, that was a faster way to get them done.

anyway. let’s see how it goes! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS ahead.

1. an auspicious start with some grave-digging!

digging up a grave and breaking open a coffin is some serious, back-breaking work--that dick did it on his own, likely straight after that fight with red hood, is a testament to the sheer intensity, stamina and discipline that he’s capable of. like, we like to joke about dick cooking cauliflower crust pizzas and making gar and rachel spar and memorise sun tzu--and despair at the obvious consequences of some of bruce’s parenting skills--but imagine crime-fighting almost daily without any superpowers, performing some of the most intense parkour in bulky, uncomfortable armour, doing detective work, pushing through every last barrier of exhaustion and then getting up to repeat it all over again the next day. dick probably thought he was going extra-easy on rachel and gar.

1.5. then again, dick probably had a hundred different easier ways to confirm whether jason was still buried or not, from using equipment to merely asking connor to have a quick look with his x-ray vision. but, no, he’s too caught up in confusion and terror, not really having come to terms with jason’s death in the first place, leave alone the possibility that he could be alive after all. he can’t possibly let the others know until he’s confirmed it himself, even if it means digging all through the night until his arms are jelly, thinking over and over again about jason’s eyes, jason’s voice, from behind that red mask.

... besides, dick has good reason to believe that he could’ve been hallucinating. wouldn’t be his first psychotic episode, after all.

that just imbues this sweaty, desperate, fingers-scrabbling-in-gravedirt scene with that much more poignancy, and a fair bit of bone-chilling terror. dick is horrified to realise that jason’s grave is empty, but a part of him is also probably relieved.

1.75 (... also it’s curious that we’re never shown any of the team asking to see jason’s grave after they come to wayne manor. i guess it’s because the writers--and the audience--know that jason is actually alive, but these people don’t know that. i don’t know if it’s sad or infuriating or both that they’re barely shown mourning him.)

2. oh GOD the sheer TENSION in kory saying, “i don’t want to say it, but--” and dick quickly interrupting, “it was jason. i saw him,” and hank giving him this loaded sidelong glance. i love how dick’s precarious mental health from last season is still this big elephant in the room but at least nobody’s blowing up in his face and questioning his every decision yet

2.25. i love the relative matter-of-factness with which they’re discussing a possible resurrection. and, of course, ra’s al ghul is brought up and quickly dismissed

(still wouldn’t put it past this show to bring him up at the very last second as the real real mastermind)

2.5. “maybe they can bring donna back” OH KORY

2.75. didn’t they have this same conversation about killing/not killing rose last season? man, the og titans make me tired.

and i don’t know if it’s just hank, but there’s a definite in-group/out-group vibe going on with the og titans, where they’re not only ready to consider killing anybody who threatens the group but makes it difficult for new people to fit in. donna and kory got along well with each other, but the dynamics between hank/donna/dawn and gar/rachel/rose were somewhat strained, and with jason, they were really fucking terrible. it makes sense when you think about how the titans started and how they broke up the first time--both were fairly disruptive events, i’d imagine, in that they probably got together to break away from their mentors and strike out on their own, and when they split up, it was the first time they felt directly responsible for the loss of an innocent life.

but the titans that dick is leading now is explicitly about mentoring a young generation of heroes, about second chances and found family. dick definitely wants to reach out to him first, and i have a feeling he’s going to be forced to make some sort of terrible Choice later on in this episode.

2.8. (honestly tho, this also seems like hank struggling with his own guilt re: jason; if red hood is not the kid that he failed, it’d be easier to fight him.)

HANK NO

4. honestly this season is already ticking off so many things on my wishlist, but i really wish dick would sit down with the newer members of his team and trust them with important information the same time that he’s telling them to the other members. gar searching for help and reassurance from a man who just dumped all of his responsibilities on his son overnight and went AWOL is a sad sight

4.25. has it only been just 48 hours????? wow! jason’s definitely been planning the red hood gig for a long time now...

5. ezekiel, my man! shady looking guy gets into your cab without a destination in mind... no problem, get right in! said guy gets a call to go to the observatory when he’s barely even looked out of the window so far at gotham... yep, a damn tourist! i want more ezekiel in this show.

5.25. (of course jason has upturned table lamps all along the floor... we have to *gritted teeth* balance the TEAL with the ORANGE don’t we?)

5.5. “dick’s a fucking psycho--he could be following you right now.” hank... has no objection to that lol

5.25. hank, hank... this is bad-decision-palooza. i can’t imagine that hank actually thought that jason was reaching out to him for help, given that the last time hank and jason had any substantial interaction hank had been one of the people accusing jason of sabotaging the team. but for him to go seek out jason and go along with his demands without any backup, weapons or equipment? not the best idea he’s ever come up with.

(add to that getting into the swimming pool of a condemned gym... oh yuck.)

((yes, i have enough self-restraint to not cap his ass.))

(((cap his ass! HA!)))

5.5. do you think jason has bugs/monitoring equipment planted in wayne manor to monitor the titans, or remote access to the cave’s systems? wouldn’t put it past him.

6. oh man, hank came back before dick and the others could meet ezekiel! this is TRAGIC

6.25. i mean, it’s plot-convenient that connor was able to give so much information about the bomb from just looking at it once, but i also like to think it’s the luthor-side of him coming to the fore. it also reminds me of that (in)famous scene from the new52 run of Nightwing comics, where a bomb was attached to nightwing’s heart and luthor disabled it by killing nightwing (temporarily). it’s a neat little callback.

6.55. “where i come from, you go after family? there’s no mercy.” BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM ISN’T IT

6.75. i mean, dick’s making sense: this is a game, and they need to get it off playing out on jason’s terms. but having a member of his team in his face, doubting his reasoning and every decision? a very familiar sight.

6.8. krypto with an a+ sense of humour? also a very familiar sight.

7. wayne enterprises... providing the military with... bombs that can be implanted in humans? a BIIIIG yikes. i guess it’s not too many steps above developing clandestine intra-dermal trackers and implanting them in your own sons, and bruce probably thought they could be used as part of negotiation tactics, but still... YIKES.

7.5. on the other hand, conner being asked to build a deactivation advice seems part of a growth arc that started from last season... he knows so much, but part of growing is learning, and part of learning is using what you know to create something new.

8. oh man, my heart broke at hank going “i’m an idiot... i screw everything up.” like. for him to go like this, after being brought down to such a low last season? struggling with pain and addiction and his relationship with the love of his life? it’s so sad.

9. oh, oh, oh! ronnie from schitt’s creek! i love her!

9.5. “one of jason’s minions” took his body out of the morgue... how deliciously morbid that he planned out his own death like this!

10. TALK TO HANK, DICK

honestly, tho, i’m quite impressed with dick here. trying to think beyond just the most alarming part of the crisis at hand, keeping his cool, delegating tasks, frequently touching base with different members of his team... well done.

10.25.... whoops, spoke too soon. i’m genuinely confused here, tho. where did the van full of gold bars come from? why did they stop there and get out? how did dawn even know about this?

on the other hand, it’s cool to know dove has bulletproof feathers!

10.5. eh... curran walters isn’t really selling red hood’s menace to me so far. but then again, if titans version of red hood is vulnerable-kid-with-father-issues-trying-to-overcompensate, then yeah! yeah, it makes sense.

11. “when bats have sex, they gotta have something to hang from” OH GOD HANK

... because i want smiley!gar on my blog :)

11.5. awww. i feel sorry for hank but NONE of these fuckers deserve gar except maybe kory

12. ohhh FUCK! look at jason being exactly one step ahead of the titans at every turn. nice.

no really, i love the building stakes and the building mystery - i feel like the deathstroke arc from last season should’ve been more like this. the flashbacks about jericho and rose came too late and after too much build up, which resulted in a very underwhelming and confusing season throughline.

13. HANK AND DIIIIIICCCKKK

“you’re doing your best by me. always have.” WAILING HERE

it also kills me to think that hank thinks that his imminent death is because of his failure to keep the team together (when he was clearly struggling with his own issues and was spiralling towards rock-bottom) and his fear that he will once again be the cause of the team falling apart.

also:

14. “i grew up... you can, too. you just have to face your fear.”

yep, got scarecrow’s grubby little fingerprints aaaaalllll over this.

14.25. nightwing’s got specialised batarangs! yay! (somehow i can’t see this universe’s dick calling them “wingdings”)

15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh man, that was devastating. well done, show. fuck, well done, jason.

this is going to bring up all sorts of “if onlys” for the team. i can’t wait for some fucking aftermath.

#titans #titans spoilers #dick grayson #hank hall #dawn granger #garfield logan #conner kent #jason todd #a tragic jalebi #meta

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myfeetkeepdancing · 4 years

Text

Forbidden Love - 2 - | Tom Holland x Male!Reader

Words: 9758

Warning: Smut

Thoughts far beyond the room, carried away by the pitch-black darkness stretching far into the starry night. Hunched onto the isle counter of the kitchen, gazing onto something that wasn't there. Absentmindedly swirling the alcoholic contents through your glass. With a sigh and sip of your drink, you snap out of it and return to your spot on the couch. Whatever you tried, your thoughts were only on one thing. Tom. You couldn’t shake it. You catch yourself falling back into old, bad habits. Nail-biting. This boy did so much more with you then you thought, emotionally and mentally. Yet your mind gathered dark clouds at the thought of the silences that were going to fall in-between the conversation. That is if he was ever going to show up…

It's been too long for your conscience to make sense of anything. The ticking of the clock drove you further down the path of doubt and worry. It couldn't have been. Your feet once again drag you to the other rooms. From the living room to the bar, into the adjacent room. A dark, spacious room with enough seating for any sports team, poles running from the ceiling to the floor, and various racks of alcohol spaced along the wall. But no one there to enjoy it. Only you and your damned nerves playing a part on you. A vast, luxurious hotel room for stars like you was a curse, high above the rest of the world. Living in a bubble of unprecedented wealth and fame. You didn't know what you were doing there. Gazing mindlessly at a row of bottles of alcohol. Stepping outside on the balcony, cooling you down for a moment. But only momentarily. Only for your mind to remind you, that you wouldn't be able to hear him arrive from here. You try to push it back. But soon, your feet scurried their way back to the living room. Taking a peek through the tiny spyhole in the door, glancing down the hall.

Nothing.

Just luxury and silence. Legs stretched out before you, you hang back in the sofa again. Absent-minded rubbing your forehead. Almost with a sense of lost hope. Staring through the large windows over the city at night. No sounds. Just lights. You tip the last bit of your drink down your throat. The alcohol burning a way down your throat. An involuntary hiss escapes in response. With a tap of your finger on your phone, you illuminate the screen.

Nothing.

Why wasn't he here? Did you play your hand? Where you too pushy? Did something go wrong in the club?

The questions keep circling in your mind. Recollecting every word you said to him. Weighing them careful against each other. As your overthinking mind went in overdrive. You can't help it. But if there's one thing that soothes your nerves and brings peace to your mind. It's playing your guitar. A simple tune. Gracing the strings in a calming fashion. Slow and steady, you play your mind free. Nothing unusual but-

The sound of a knock. Your eyes lock on the door instantaneously. A rush of heat shoots through your body. Jolting upwards. Stumbling over your own feet, you rush towards the sound. Halting just before the door, careful not to crash into it. For all you know, it could be someone from the hotel itself. So caught up in your own thoughts. Another knock follows. Every knock increasing your hammering heartbeat against your ribcage. Focus man. Focus.

That sense of relief. When you open the door, all hope returns. Followed by sheer joy. And more nerves. “Tom.” You hear yourself bring a bit too much excitement through your voice. “Hey…”

"(Y/N)" Tom said, his voice loaded with happiness, and with such a genuinely sweet smile, just the right touch of shyness. Just like that, Tom reminded you of all those years back. The aura of joy and vibrant happiness that hangs around him. That smile, contagious on the first sight. His eyes capture you from the very first glance. Difficult to let go, and pleasant to lose yourself in.

“Thanks for having me.” He beams, opening up his arms towards you. It’s unexpected. Partially because you felt slightly on edge. Nervous. But it sure is welcome. You lean into him, as his arms reach around you. Patting each other on the back. It had a certain energy, a feel to it you embraced. Nostalgia, familiarity. But it also carried something more to it. A vibrant warmth rising and turning into sexual tension as Tom’s muscled arms held you. Not only his touch making you all warm and fuzzy. But also your points of contact along his body with your arms. The feel of his muscled frame. No denying in that. Tom had grown, matured. Became manlier. And you could see that. For once, you could feel it. As you both let go, you share a moment of eye contact. Eyeing you with the same kind of joy that stirred up in you.

"Thank you for coming." Both holding back a moment. For the first time, you're finally able to take in his way of dressing. A perfectly tailored suit with a soft jacket against the wind. Returning the smile. "May I-?" Moving closer to him, offering to take off his coat. Revealing his broad shoulders under a buttoned-down white shirt. Your nostrils were teased by his earthy cologne, a delightful odor that was worthy of Tom’s standard as a gentleman.

You share a moment of eye contact as you glance back at him while hanging up his coat. His hands tucked into this black suit pants, looking over his shoulder back to you. You both feel caught at the same time. That rush of heat tickles on your senses. Returning your gazes to whatever you were staring at. "I hope I wasn't interrupting something." His smile broadening on his face. "Heard you playing for a bit." Eyeing the guitar, you let slip to the floor once you heard his knocking.

“No, No. Not at all.” Feeling the flutters rise in your system. “I was… waiting for you.” You confess with a slight blush rising to your cheeks. “Helps me calm my nerves.” Tom followed you along as you led him further inwards. You were afraid of the tension, the unease of the situation. Your mind still occupied by the hug. And it’s sexual tension that came with it. Yet it felt right. Tom somehow made you feel comfortable around him. His way of talking, the way he carried himself.

“Really?” His smile stretching further across his face. “Well, I sure wouldn’t mind if you continued.” He said. “Sounded absolutely brilliant.” Feeling a slightly caught off guard by his genuine sweetness, you nod and suppress your ever stretching smile. His personality as a whole was so infectious. So kind and endearing. Full of life.

“T-This looks amazing.” Looking about the place with wonder. “You usually stay in swanky hotels like this?”

“Most of the time.”

“I must be doing something wrong.” He chuckles to himself. “This is a world apart from my trailer.”

“Well, perhaps you could think about a career change?” You tease him. “I mean, you handled yourself pretty well in that lip sync battle. Might be something for you in there.”

"Oh my god, that's literally going to be the only thing I will be remembered for." Shaking his head. "I mean, was it that good?"

“It really was, Tom. I loved it.” You wholeheartedly confess. The images flashing before for your very eyes. Burned into your memory. “Very much so… For one, your choreography was brilliant. And I think with your voice and that history in dance, you could definitely make it. God, I sound like a panel judge from television.”

"No, please!" He laughs. "Do go on! That’s a big compliment coming from you.”

“Well, if you hang up your Spider-Man suit, you got something to fall back onto.” You pat him on the shoulder.

“I’ll drop you a call once I’m there.”

From the adjacent cupboard, you bring a glass, lining it up with yours. A somewhat uneasy silence present in the room. Pouring the liquor into the glasses without even asking him. You're being lured in as you walk your way towards him. His brown eyes captivating you, reeling you in. "Your friends know you're here?"

“I’m a terrible liar, so…” Pressing his lips together, jaw clenched, and eyes fluttered. Shaking his head softly. Tom sure had perfected the look of that innocent puppy, being accused of tearing the toilet paper to shreds. “They had a very good idea where I was heading.”

"Well, I thought our little talk was quite discreet." Getting him here felt like a victory for you. But standing in front of him, it still felt different, even after all these years. There was a distance between you two. As if you were still treading on thin ice. Not sure where you both were taking the conversation. Yet you knew what you had discussed earlier that night. And somehow that was bound to be brought up. And at the same time, that fire burning inside you. A craving. “For the nerves.” Ringing the glasses together. “Cheers.”

“Not to them…“ He chuckled before eyeing the contents of his glass. “Gin….” Taking a good sip as he lets the alcohol do the rest. “Good choice.”

“How was the trip anyway?”

"That was awesome! I was amazed at how well everything was put up. Super discreet and sneaky. I felt like James Bond for a moment, slipping through those backdoors and such." Taking a gentle sip from his drink. And as you gaze at him. You begin to notice the blushes on his cheeks. They're small but… noticeable. Cute almost. Tom had changed in all those years. Despite his journey, he had regained that youthful look. The wrinkles at his eyes as he laughed. That smile. His enthusiasm. "You, eh… used that secret passage before?" He asks while scratching his throat after his first sip of liquor—a slight tremble to his voice.

You chuckle slightly at his question. Eyeing the floor for a moment, as you scratch your forehead. "It's… been used many times." You smile and return your gaze up at him. "But not once by me."

"Good. Good." He nods, noticing a sense of relief in his voice. "Hotel provides it?"

“Yup. Curtesy for the famous and the rich. We gotta lot to cover up these days.”

“With all the media these days, you gotta be careful.”

“I haven’t seen it mentioned on Instagram or anything, so you’re safe.”

“Couldn’t find anything about you either.” Sharing his screen with you. A small lump in your throat formed as you say all the different tags and searches Tom had thrown onto the internet. All involving your name. The thought of him searching for information about you. It was flattering. Your eyes widen, plastered to the screen. Tom’s search tab on Instagram, the moment it loaded. It was filled with pictures and edits from you. You desperately try to suppress your grin. At the same time, that immediate rush of heat coursing through your system. “See.” Looking back at you over his shoulder. “Nothing.” Scrolling past countless pages of your pictures. Before putting his phone away with that same face of innocence. You try to suppress the thoughts racing through your mind. That suppressed grin was inevitable. You just had to smile.

“What’s so funny?” He chuckles softly. Hanging back against a table, arms and legs crossed. Smiling at you, waiting for you to gather some sense.

“I was… I … couldn’t stop going down memory lane.” It wasn't a complete lie. Tom was clever. But not with tech. Never has and never will be. It made him so much more wholesome. So human.

"I had the same on my way here!" He adds on with explosive enthusiasm. It's relaxing to listen to Tom, recollection memories, and stories from back then. Like an old couple rethinking their old days. It brought back so many good things. Reconnected the two of you in many ways. "That was one heck of a time."

“And we managed to keep it a secret.” Hinting at the sexuality issue. “We managed.” You could twist and turn around the subject, but it is inevitable to avoid. You were both here for a reason.

"Personally, it wasn't easy, I have to say." Biting the insides of his cheek with a gaze occupied elsewhere. Contemplating his choices. Hearing him sigh a little. Swallowing the lump forming in his throat. For a moment, you hesitate if you perhaps crossed a line. That moment of silence as he pondered, kept the silence going. But as he returned his gaze towards you, you’re met with big brown eyes begging. “It gets lonely.”

“I get it.” You nod. Drowning into this powerful gaze. “Luckily, our careers tend to need most of our attention."

“Our careers are important. Absolutely. But...” He sighed, voice heavy with sympathy. “Don’t you feel that emptiness, that loneliness? Late at night in your bed. Waking up to an empty apartment. Dinner alone. I got my mates over once in a while. But that feeling, for me, it's just getting worse each year."

"With a busy life and all, you tend to lose sight of your own needs." You say with an unintended sadness. Yet you completely agree with Tom. You shared that feeling—that experience. Being on the move many days of the week, not a single place felt like home. Life isn’t bad. It absolutely isn’t, far from it. Things are going well for you. Each year is better than the last. And money wasn’t a concern. But there are things in life that shouldn’t be bought with money. And your love life grew further away then you realized. The higher you build your barriers from the truth. You try to shield your eyes from reality. Yet something inside is so strong. It hungered. “I know that feeling… all too well.”

It craved—more than ever.

“Have you dated anyone?” A hint of insecurity rang in his voice. His posture was stiff, pausing for a moment, staring hard into your eyes. “Y-You know… with the rumors and all that." There was a certain unease to his way of saying—a hint of concern regarding what you would answer.

"I haven't…" Shaking your head. "No…" You could notice the sense of relief going through him. The way his shoulders loosened, seating himself more comfortable on the couch. That gentle curve on his lips slowly reappearing. "And you?" You ask, but receiving a look from Tom, you knew all too well from back in the day. "Don't give me that look, Tom."

“C’mon! I mean, people are literally lined up for you." He said with a laugh. "In front of stadiums etc. Not to mention the screaming ones in the front row."

"Oh! Speak for yourself, mister handsome. You're praised everywhere, and by everyone. And right so…"

"Mate!" He laughed, tossing a cushion your way. "The same goes for you!" Both of you waiting for each other to collect their thoughts. Pondering about what to spoil and tease each other with next.

“I’ve missed this.” You openheartedly confess, downing your drink in one go. Feeling it impossible to retain your smile. Spending time with Tom was just like the old days. You met when he was younger, shared many things, and clicked on multiple occasions. Turning into a friendship for years to remember. But eventually, time pulls people apart. Tom became busy with his acting role in Eliot. While you were taking the first few steps into the singing business. Taking not long to be discovered and climbing the ladder as the years progressed.

In that earlier time, of growing up, and preparing for adulthood. Started with being simple 'outsiders' during those school years. It brought you together. Sharing many hours together after school. Getting to know his family. Finding solemn and peace, quiet, comfort, and acceptance in each other’s presence. The things you enjoyed doing. Together. That resulted in years of fun trips and memories that you will always cherish. In the further years of growing up, relationships and their sexuality came in to play. A road of discovery. For both of you.

You always had been honest with each other. Tom knew you like the back of your hand. Recognized when you felt down or struggled to stand up for yourself. The same went for Tom. You knew precisely when Tom held back. He always was a kind and loving soul. Too kind for this world. And knew that Tom had difficulty saying 'no'. His weaknesses, but also admirable qualities. That level of trust and feeling of unwavering loyalty and friendship caused both of you to question the value. Misjudges things. Feel different things.

Feelings. On that road of discovery, we all begin to learn new things about ourselves. Give things a place in our lives. Our values and morale are formed—the first steps towards adulthood. But the one grew up faster than the other. Certain events and comments not helping. And so, you slowly began to lose sight of each other. Speaking less and less. Going to different colleges. Eventually losing numbers. And the ways to connect. But never the thought of each other.

"We should have done this much earlier." His sparkling eyes not letting you go. Without thinking twice, the words had spilled from your mouth. You avert your eyes away, sucking on your teeth, trying to contain your grin. "I've really missed this. You know… Us. Like this."

“Your right.” He nods with a big ass grin. “And your smile says it all.” Throwing the entire contents of his glass down his throat again. “Just like old time.” Releasing a hiss as the alcohol burned its way down. “Now we’re even.” Putting his glass aside.

“Alcohol sure did bring us together.” Thinking about his somewhat awkward ramble from earlier tonight.

"And closer." Reaching for the bottle, ready to pour you another. That hinting and a playful smirk on his face. Eyeing for your reaction. "Another?"

“I don’t mind.” You quip without a second thought.

“Which one?” He asks with a challenging tone to his voice.

“Yes.” The grin stretching further along your face. The sexual tension was thicker than ever. You could feel it in the air. It was only a matter who’d initiate first. Tom, for sure, was playing along, as you watch him pour another. Handing you the glass, but holding onto it for a bit longer than necessary. Brushing fingers on the glass. Forcing eye contact. Deepening it. As if he was determined to find your goal or reasoning in your eyes. All the while, that seductive smile captivating you. It's almost magic. "So… Have you dated anyone?" Bringing back the burning question that lingered in your mind.

“No… No... I haven’t.” He said, sipping his drink while sinking back into the couch. The way he smiled, drawing his thin lips tight. Keeping eye contact the whole time while silence filled the gap in the conversation. Taking a comfortable position on the couch. But you can’t help but stare. It’s so satisfying. Your eyes are drawn to his shirt. The way it wraps around him. The way it tenses, the fabric stretching. And that first button barely holding on. Teasing you. His pause was long and thoughtful. At first, you thought he had was mustering his courage to find the right words.

"Why, Tom?" You continue to prod into his charming offensive.

“I think it's the same reason as you." You could feel his gaze burning into yours. Making your heart beat faster and faster. "I still care about you (Y/N)." The way his voice carried your name was more than tantalizing. It provoked you. Played with you. "I can't deny it. And I won't." Raking his fingers through his curls. That movement alone, played in slow motion for you, watching his biceps stretch the fabric to its limit. It's hypnotizing. "Not anymore…" Meanwhile, his words burn into your mind. Feeling the heat rise in your system. Despite the alcohol in your system, you begin to feel the nerves taking over. The flashes of skin that exposed once he reseats himself on the edge of the sofa. Your eyes are glued to him. With a flick of his wrist, his fingers reach for the strap of his watch. Carefully sliding it out through the buckle, removing the watch from his wrist. Putting it down in front of him on the table. "I feel… that we… share that thought.” Before returning his gaze towards you, looking past his shoulder. That glint in his eyes. Awaiting your reaction. “Or does silence imply consent…" His voice has a cocky edge to it, yet subtle and with a playful charm. Leaving you simply nodding with a growing smirk.

“Good…" He said, looking pleased. "Then you leave me with one burning question." Turning in his spot. His eyes devoured you as he watched your every move. "Regret..." He said while crooking his head ever so slightly. Squinting his eyes to sharpen his focus on you. Ever so determined to catch any wrinkle on your skin, every beading trickle of sweat, every twitch in your eye, any change in posture, as he awaited your reaction. He wanted to know. He demanded to know. "Do you have regrets about the things you didn't do?" His voice hypnotizing. Raising himself up onto his feet, straightening himself, before slowly stalking his way towards you. "Speaking from our past, that is.” You could see the glint in his eye. That grin spreading across his face. Closing the distance. Inching closer and closer. His fingers reach for the first button of his white shirt. Releasing the tension on the fabric as it pops open, revealing more and more skin. He knew what he was doing. And you were more than fine with it. You let the scene play before you as you feel your breathing quicken. You heart racing. And heat rising.

"They say rejection is far worse than regret." You grin, returning your gaze from his exposed skin. "Does that sound familiar?" Noticing he was mere inches away from you. Cornering you on that tight spot.

One hand reaches beside you. As he hovers closer to you. “It does…” He breathes against your lips. "Yet, rejection never ever crossed my mind..." He smirks. That slight tilt to his head, awaiting the careful caress of your lips on his. The closer they came, the softer they appeared. The deeper the cravings became. “I figured the saying was the other way around.”

Tom frame hangs dangerously close to you above the couch. Both hands clinging to the backrest, hovering inches above you. He glances down at you for a moment. Your heart races faster and faster. He raises his right hand, caressing your cheek, and slowly slid down your face, lingering on the chin for a moment. You reach around his neck, pulling him closer to you. "I know it is." You whisper, pushing yourself forward, lips parted, ready to lock into his.

“Doesn’t answer my question…” He pulls back from your approaching lips. Leaving your drawing a shuddering breath instead. Chapping your dry lips with your tongue. "-darling…" His voice low and raspy, teasing you. Neither of you says a word. You stare at each other for half a second or so. Drawn to each other. The little air between the two of you thick with tension. Lust. Passion. Desire.

Tom’s intense gaze forces the words from your dry and croaked throat. “I…” Tom’s lips part, and inch closer as you begin to utter the words. You knew the answer from the start. His hands closing in on you. Bodies brushing against one and another.”…-regret.”

Tom locks his soft, warm lips with yours. Pulling him into this slow passionate kiss. Your lips sensually dance against each other, while your tongues meet in between. Moaning softly into the kiss. The anticipation of being together in more than words, thoughts, dreams, and wishes, it electrifies every nerve in your body. Intoxicates. Warms you. Brings you to life like you never felt before.

His hands rove across your body with such intensity, prying the clothing loose from your body. As he breaks his lips away from yours. But continuing kissing the side of your neck. You feel a sudden shiver shoots across your spine, as his warm wet tongue connects with your skin. Sensually caressing the area around your neck. Down onto your collarbone and fumbling with the first buttons of your shirt. The excitement and ecstasy building up.

Your hands grasping onto his long brown curls. Returning the favor on his neck. Your body squished between the couch and his masculine body. Experiencing every curve and edge of his body against yours. It’s extremely arousing. You can’t help but grind against his force pushing down. The outlines of his muscles pushing down onto you. Through the fabric, you feel his erect cock pressed against yours. Both gasping a little as you share a glance at each other for a brief moment. Lust consuming his gaze. Without looking, you open the next button of his shirt. Your hands shake as they try to open the next.

Now slowly revealing his muscled frame. Your stomach's in ropes. Followed by a nervous flutter. Sighing dreamily as Tom has worked himself onto yours. You pull his naked torso against yours, his warm flesh pressing against yours. You violently kiss his lips as your hands slide down his back. Starting from his shoulder, down his back in a way, you free him of his shirt. Your hands ending up at his pants. Desperate to feel the roundings of his ass cheeks. Prying your fingers underneath the cloth, reaching for that fluid, round skin of his ass. They feel firm, tight, and incredibly satisfying to caress.

But Tom takes over. Pushing your body back and deeper into the couch. Losing your grasp on his ass. Ripping the shirt from your body with both hands. As you lay there, held down by both his hands on your shoulders. Tom starts trailing kisses running from your collarbone, down your chest. An ecstatic thrill pulses through your body at the feel of his lips upon your naked skin. You let out a low moan. Numbed by the sensations of his lips gracing and praising your wanting skin. You've been touch starved for years. Now groaning in pleasure. As he continues down further and further. With your eyes closed, you feel exactly where he was. Sweat breaks out all over your body as you feel the immediate thought of him inching his way down with each grace of his lips. Your fingers intertwined in his curls helps him spur on. As he moves to play with your nipple, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. Flicking gently at the hardened skin. His hands gliding along to your hips. With a strong pull, your pants slide off, and your member springs up from its captivity.

Without hesitation, he bends forward, both hands holding it in place. A wave of pleasures warms you, seeing him sliding his mouth over the head. It’s ticklish for a moment. A feeling that makes you jump a little on the spot. Rocking your body. But that subsides as quickly as pleasure takes over your senses.

You can't help but grunt as he works in your length. The pressure is strange for a moment. The suction is breathtakingly satisfying. Mind-boggling. Tom taking you in deeper and further. The touch of his lips on the veiny skin of your shaft. Keeping eye-contact as he does. It's so warm and so incredibly soft. The tender the touch of his tongue on your tip, made you gasp even harder. Lashing at the slit. It's beyond this world, the way he circles his tongue. Playing with your sensitive skin. It's something you never experienced as heavenly as before. The slow laps, licks, and careful sucks make you shudder and moan to the smallest change. Rolling your head back, your hips bucking upwards. You groan uncontrollably, feeling your entire body shudder from the sensation. Clenching buttocks and trembling legs. Trying to shove your length further into his mouth. But he keeps control, pinning your hips down. As he slurps and wets your member with such passion, it's impossible not to cum already.

In response, he digs his nails into your stomach, raking it towards your pelvis. Forcing you to watch him work. Releasing your pulsing, rock hard member from his warm and welcoming lips. “You look so good… under my touch.” He smiles, sensually teasing you with his tongue on your shaft. “You’re going to bust for me?” Bringing his lips to the underside of your cock.

The sight of it leaves you disconnected from your body and brain. Your fingers tremble, toes curling up and throat running dry. With small kisses, he starts nuzzling your shaft. And with one hand, stroking your cockhead. You can't help but feel the pulses coursing through your cock. All your blood directed to one place. Twisting and turning his hand along the ridges of the head. Still incredibly slicked from his saliva. His grasp is firm, yet releasing the tension just at the right moment, sliding along the sensitive skin. The ridges are hard by the pounding of your blood. Craving more and faster rubbing.

Tom is just focused on that one thing. Your moans. Finding the right spot. Caressing the skin in a way you could never do yourself. You never felt yourself. Nothing you did yourself would ever come close to this. “Do you want me…” He groans, licking the drops of pre-cum from your slit with his soft and warm tongue. “…-to make you cum?” It’s sensational the way your body seeps fluids from your cock. Tom’s tongue tenderly lashing at the streams of pre-cum.

“T-Tom…” You groan deep and hard. Feeling an imminent release coming up. Taking over your senses. But Tom continues to tease. Rubbing the frenulum with his thumb as he peppers kisses all over, expect your cock. You try to pull him upwards, feeling yourself close to blowing your load. "P-…Please…"

He continues kissing your belly, slowly working up. Paying no attention to your pleas. Rubbing himself against you, feeling his member rubbing against your thigh. Sliding further upwards, all nicely slicked. Creating satisfying friction of warm flesh and wetness. Latching one arm around his neck, the other on the pair of cocks. You help the incredibly satisfying grind increase pace. "I want you close to me." You moan to him, pulling him against you with your one arm. Tom doesn't linger long, closing both his arms around your neck. Both your chest together, grinding his hip into your tightened grip. Both gasping for air in the kiss.

“If you keep going like this…” He moans, looking up at you, heaving on your chest. Continuing to grind against you. “I’m…. I’m gonna blow first.”

"You're such a hot mess, baby." Releasing the hold on the pair of pulsating cocks, you dig your hands into his ass cheeks. "I'll take that load off you." You say with a grin on your face. A smile flickered on his face in response. Desperate to spill his load. The same going for you. But you wanted your turn at teasing as well. With all your force, you pull his ass cheeks towards you, lying flat on the couch. The entirety of his frame sliding across your sweaty body. Pushing the air from your lungs for a moment. His member meeting your face up close.

Tom's sigh on its own could make you burst as a whole. With a graceful lick and suckle on his balls, you force eye contact. Working your tongue up the shaft. Looking past his length, the beautiful curves of his abs, pecs, and collarbone grace your view. Watching his pleading expression as you continue. Tom's eye squint, while sucking his lower lip between his teeth, groaning with a deep and passionate volume. One hand on his length, you begin to slide your lips over his cockhead. It's large. It's firm. Wet. And incredibly smooth. You lips pop past the curves of his cockhead, onto the shaft. Your tongue meeting the head. Feeling the length twitch in your mouth as soon as your tongue slides further onto his shaft. The leaking drops of pre-cum smear across your tongue as you push further. Hitting the back of your throat. You stifle your gag reflex. Adjusting your mouth to his size. Tom's heavy moan followed up by shudder as he rolled his hips. An overwhelming experience. Your tongue wetting his shaft. Feeling the edges and ridges of his cock in your mouth made you even harder. Dripping from your own slit. After a few thrust into your mouth, you can already feel the momentum building. Stretching in your mouth. Shuddering movements. You would give him encouraging words, but your mouth was occupied. Filled with every inch of him. Slathering the entirety of his cock in your mouth.

To help his movement, you had your hands kneading into his ass cheeks. Pleasing white bums that cupped your hand perfectly. You slowly pried apart the cheeks. And with your fingers, you reach for his hole. Circling the tight flesh. Tom's moans increased as you begin pushing lightly against the resistance. Tom stops immediately. "B-Baby, please…" Groaning hard and long under your touch. His body quivers and shakes. And as you seek eye contact. You see him gasping, mouth wide open. His head hanging between his arms holding onto the couch. Trembling. Panting for air. "Ooh… s-s-shit!" Each push against his flesh, forcing an incredibly sexy moan from him.

That feel of his flesh weakening under your pressure. Accepting your finger, slowly, you begin pushing. Rubbing into his warm contorting flesh. Gripping around your finger tightly. Searching for that one spot. While caressing his cock with your tongue. Adding another finger made his knees weak. His whole body shuddering on top of yours. The anticipation building up in him. Pushing his cock further into your mouth and deeper down your throat. All the while, as his flesh softened, his hole loosening under your touch.

Your fingers drill deep and in motion with your sucking. It doesn't take long for his moans to turn short and shallow. "J-Just... like that!" He whimpers, leaning in towards you. The sudden shift of his cock in your mouth made you gag. Forcing it deeper down your throat. All swollen and wet. Dripping from your lips. You press your fingers deeper into him. As you feel him pushing into you. Plain right, fucking your mouth, down into your throat.

The moment you hit the spot is instantly noticeable. You feel the wetness dripping from his slit. The taste on your tongue. "That's it!" He cries out. Short, shallow thrust followed by a tortured growl. "Oh, my God." His whole body trembling. "Right there!" Continuing to shove his cock down your throat. "Keep doing that!" Following into your motion. Rutting his hip into you, short and shockingly. Waves of cum flooded your mouth. His dick pulsed on your lips. Feeling every vein contract and release wave after wave. Each thrust of your finger down his hole, surged the next. Your name cursed under his panting breath, as your struggle to gulp it all down. Trying to remember to breathe. Load after load gushed down your throat. Until a ragged, shuddering breath gave was the only thing you heard.

Releasing his still hard member from your mouth, you give yourself a breather. Gazing up from underneath, past his cock and heaving chest. You see that smirk on his face. Sharing a giggle as he helps you pull yourself up. "I'm so sorry." Kissing you gently on the lips, massaging your shoulders with both hands. "I let myself go there." Softly giggling.

"It’s alright.” You reassure him with a few kisses. “You can do anything, darling." Imitating his English accent.

"You shitface!" He chuckled as you take in his fluttered cheeks and a big smile. "I just hope I didn't harm that pretty voice of yours." Coming face to face with him again.

"That'd be quite a story." Planting your lips on his. "But, don't you worry… I can take it." Biting his lower lip sensually. Continuing to play with each other. "At this point, I wanna do it all.”

“Well, the night is long.” Licking the few drops of wetness running from your lips and cheek. “And there’s more after the sunrise.”

"That sounds so cheesy." You giggle softly as you let him pepper kisses along your cheek and down your ear.

"I’m helping you write a new song." Beginning to grind his ass cheeks against your length, while keeping a watchful eye on you. Sliding it up and down the crack of his ass.

"Shit… Tom." Running your hands down his figure. Captivated by his presence, up close, and all personal. "I can't fucking think straight." Kissing his collarbone and down to his pecs. The moans and groans he makes as you suckle on his nipple, flicking the skin with your tongue. Feeling it harden by your touch. His fingers clenching on your hair as you continue to suckle. Tom had a beautiful physique. And you soon found out he loved nothing more than being your kisses down your body. Completely overtaken by your praise of his body.

“I want you, baby.” He begs, trying to get your attention by squeezing your dick between his ass cheeks. “Every inch of you...” While you try to suckle on his exposed sweating skin. Every inch of him was pure heaven.

With one hand, you slick your member, ready to go. Keeping your lips on his collarbone. Tom moaned and moaned by your touch. Giving you an incredible boost in confidence. Digging the other into his lovely curved, round ass cheeks, the other onto your tip, guiding yourself to his hole. "I got this, baby." He groans. "I wanna feel it..." Taking your cock in his fingers.

All nervous and sweating, Tom pulls your head up, forcing his lips on yours again. Releasing a slow groan into the kiss. His fingers tremble of anticipation on your skin. Slowly guiding your cock to his hole. "I…" Nothing more follows. Your senses wholly overwhelmed. "...I'm lost…"

Lowering himself onto you, angling his pelvis just right, feeling his hole widen up, accepting your tip. Slowly pushing down on your cock. His lips quiver against yours, gasping for air. As you continue to push into him. Gravity doing the rest. The simulations grunt you both release by the sudden pleasure shakes your bodies. Unable to keep the kiss going. Leaning your foreheads against each other. Drowning in his captivating eyes. "This time…" He groans while drawing short breaths "-…I'll make you cum." His ass clamps down hard. Enveloping every inch of you tightly. Feeling his entire body shudder, goosebumps shooting across his skin. "I… promise, baby."

Tom was tight. Incredibly tight. "Fu-...uuuck…!" He growls, his face contorting in one of pain. But you were wrong. As his flesh convulses around your cock. The moment you slide in, he felt like you accepted him. But now, his skin convulsed around you. Squeezing you tight. "This… is… amazing." He keeps moaning. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, as the words escaped him in a ragged whisper. His continuous moans almost send you over the edge. "I…" He cursed under his breath. "I… can't move." He groans as you try to move.

Placing your hands on his ass cheeks, you help him get into the flow. Overwhelmed by his feelings, it takes you quite a bit of strength to get him moving. Slowly grinding his insides, his flesh starting to accept your rod with each thrust. Stretching him. Filling him. Pleasuring him.

Rolling his hips on your rod. Slow but sensual. The heat and smoothness driving you insane. Unable to find words. You stammer a few words as you help him ride you. But the words of Tom that make you stop for a moment. "You're gonna make me burst again, baby." Whispering into your ear. "Shit..." Moaning as he glances down onto his cock. Standing close to you. “Please… I’m…” He stammers before seating himself back up. “Im... getting… close...” You feel yourself harden inside him. The touch of your fingers makes him gasp in relief. It’s surreal for a moment. Feeling it so rigid in your hand. The way it’s warm and wet skin pulses in your hand. Each slow stroke you make, turning him more into a panting mess.

It's slow and sensual. Passionate. The grinding of his body against yours. The motion. The friction. Everything fell in the right place. His toned body riding your hard and eager cock. Tensing muscles of his rippled body. The moonlight casting a glow on all his hills and valleys, ripples and curves of his frame. It's just like a movie. Glistening in sweat. Like a song. A symphony of love and lust. Embed in your memory for eternity. His hands caressing your cheeks, while his lips close in on yours. Eyes locked. Release was imminent. Faster than you expected. A build-up of years. Finally there. It's all you ever wanted. "Just like that…" His words trailed off into oblivion as his eyes closed shut.

His hands shudder on your skin. Groaning vividly as he struggled to regain his focus. For a moment, he lost control. Groaning uncontrollably hard. Your fingers firmly wrapped around his length. Inching him closer and closer to his orgasm with each stroke. Massaging every ridge and vein on his pulsing cock. Focusing each stroke on the ridges of his head. Letting them ripple through your fingers through a tight grip. His moans were sexier then you imagined even in your dreams—all by your doing.

All it takes is looking him into his eyes. And the cum shot out in ropes. White strings off pure pleasure. One after another. His encouraging words made you speed up, making him shoot far and wide. It’s an incredible sight to see. Tom just cums and cums, spilling onto your hands and stomach. Praising you. Begging you for more. And as each shot launched into the air, his hole clenched around your cock. It synched up so perfectly. It turned you on immensely. Passing on the climax.

Jolts of energy, building up, searching for a release. A rupture of energy. Emotions. Spilling from you. Warm and wet. Gushing his insides, wave after wave. Your body locked in ecstasy and numbness. The grasp of your fingers fading on his flesh, curling your toes. Gasping for breath. Loss of words. Bliss.

Forever had you dreamed of this moment. Longed for it. That smile of his. The soft caress of his fingers on your skin. His moan. Long and deep. Groaning after your pulsing orgasm. Taking it all in.

“You’re a dream come true.” Cupping his cheeks. Connecting with his lips. This was meant to be. His body grinding against yours. Begging for more. Desires you beforehand only dreamed off. Now all surfaced. His masculine body thriving on top of you. Glistening with sweat. A hard rock cock, standing in-between you. Your eyes are drawn to it.

Tom cleared his throat, allowing a dry croak to escape his drawn, trembling lips. “I want this to last forever.” Moaning into the kiss. “Never... stop.” His arms wrap around your neck. Those rippling muscles in his arms were strong. Holding you in a tight hold. His torso grinding against you. It’s perfect. You can hear the harmony. It’s all true what they once sang. Love is all.

“Tom… I...” Getting kissed by him again. Unable to finish your sentence. With even more passion. Aggression almost. Fiercely exploring each other with your fingers. So few thoughts raced through your mind. Only Tom. Just the two of you.

Imposing a finger between your lips, breaking up the kiss, he tries to keep your lips sealed. Allowing you to draw much-needed air into your lungs. Watching him gather himself as well. Piece his words together. "If we're going to say it…" He whispers, kissing you down your jawline while trying to hold you flat to the couch. "I want to be the first." Engaging your lips again. You can't help but giggle into the kiss. Fighting for control. And Tom was strong. Teasing you as you struggle to get a hold of him. Not only distracted by his person up close, but also by your naked bodies thrashing. Eventually rolling both off the couch. After a shared giggle and a laugh, you continue to roll around on the carpet. Your flesh on his. Loving every inch of him. Worshipping. Fingers digging deep into each other's skin.

Eventually, you submit, rolling onto your back. Partially on purpose, but also out of curiosity. You take a moment to look at him. Your eyes run down his body, lingering over his straining chest muscles, broad shoulders, sculpted arms, and rolling abs. From his pelvis loomed his cock. Shining from the wetness, yet still hard, thick, and swollen. Completely ready for you. The anticipation made your heart race like never before.

"Prove it to me…" You ordered him. "I want you to show me your love." Not a moment of hesitation wasn't there. That sparkle in his captivating brown eyes. A continuous flow of love. Tom takes both your legs and spreads them apart. Inching himself closer to you. The way his eyes devour you sends a shiver through your whole body. Hooking one leg over his shoulder, he slides his shaft between your cheeks. Rubbing and teasing your hole. The touch of his hard tip on your tight flesh alone makes you whimper. He carefully watched your reaction. If he didn't stop already, you would bust right there. You couldn't help it—dizzy with anticipation. You watch Tom wet a finger with saliva. Spreading your cheeks apart with his fingers, inserting one into your flesh. You can't help but throw your head back. Tom wasn't gentle. He knew you wanted it. Your body craved it at this point. In one push, he forced his finger up there. "You like that, babe?" Adding another finger. Your whole body contorted around his movement. But Tom held you down. He leaned onto your chest, peppering kisses along your sweating skin.

A gasp of relief, emptiness, and desires sounded from your mouth. Tom's fingers had left an unrelenting desire to be filled by him. Your flesh had accepted such movements after a few thrusts, your body enjoying the slow teasing thrusts from his fingers. Leaving you in nothing more than a panting mess. Desperate. "Tom… Fuck me…" You exhale sharply. "Please…"

You watch attentively as he sucks his fingers clean. Stroking the length of his cock. To what avail you don't know. It was hard already. One hand on your raised leg, the other on his cock. He slowly sinks himself into you. That moment of when he pushed against your flesh. The resistance. Your body strained momentarily as it stretched the flesh—resistance fading. And the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and bliss fall over you. You can't help but close your eyes and roll back your head. And you let that incredible feeling wash over you. As he slides in slowly, inch by inch. Forcing a numbness in your pelvis, radiating up into your body. Steadying your breathing as your hole seems to widen even further before clenching on him again. You didn't realize you where groaning until Tom overshadowed your sound. Before you realize it, he's sheathed all the way into you. Tom's loud breathing indicating otherwise. Barely holding on, as he balances himself on one hand beside you. Involuntary clenching your hole around him even more. "God…You're so tight." He pants heavily, feeling his breath on your skin.

It didn’t hurt. Not one bit. Just the feeling of having Tom so deep inside you makes you feel fuzzy and warm. Horny to a point you never experienced. Tom slowly starts to his roll his hips into you. Slow and passionate. All you feel is the cock hitting your insides again and again. And the strength ebbing away in your legs. This was the best feeling you could ever imagine. “C'mon, stay with me.” He whispers. Noticing your body going limb by the pleasure of his penetration.

The continuous grinding on your insides was more than heavenly. Each push of his cock, the flesh pounding against yours. The ridges of his cock rubbing your insides were so incredibly satisfying. You can't help but grin at his comment. "Tom...." You manage to moan out. "... I'm…"

The sensations building up are immense. You're driven close to the edge several times by the penetration of Tom's cock. Something so fantastic and otherworldly, it made your mind go blank. He slows his movement and locks lips again. Murmuring to you. "You're really into me..."

Tom’s comment didn’t register in your mind. The only thought was having him rut faster into you. "You're… You’re gonna make me burst..." You pant heavily. "I'm so… fucking close..." Groaning from pleasure. "Go faster, T-Tom!"

"Shoot it for me, love." He whispers to you in a soft voice. He starts rolling his hips again. You buck your hips upward, feeling him reach deeper. The sound of bare naked flesh slapping against one another drove you closer and closer. "Blow your load." He groans in your ear. "C'mon… Look at me." Tom was as expressive with his words as with his actions.

You open your eyes to his flexed body muscles arching forward. Kissing you immediately as you begin to massage your shaft. Before abruptly breaking away. Leaving you wanting more. Instead, he holds on your thighs and begins to push deeper into you. His grip firm, yet careful and pleasing to the touch. Intensifying the moment. You arch upwards at Tom's sudden deep thrust. Pushing the air out of your lungs. Making your toes curl. Gasping for air. It felt as if his tip had touched your dick. Far and deep inside you. That warm fuzzy feeling now boiling up. Followed by a sweet explosive release. You cry out as a fountain of cum shoot from you. At the first sight of cum, Tom thrusts deeper again, pushing against the spot once more. Then, pulling your pelvis flush against his body. Penetrating you deep and rough. Again and again. Coating his stomach with your cum. "That's it, baby!" He exhales with you unload your cream. "Give it to me!" Your vision begins to cloud with dark hues and stars. As you balls churn load after load. His hand helping you drain the very last drop onto you. The other hand rubbing the wetness down his six-pack.

"K-Keep going… Tom." You moan slowly, regaining your senses. Enjoying his constant rubbing inside you. So warm and satisfying. You can't feel your legs. Only his cock sliding in and out. The rigid of his cockhead rubbing all the right places. And even after that explosive release, your erection doesn't fade away.

“I’m gonna bust all over you.” Clasping his hands to your sides. Picking up the pace again. Slamming his pelvis against yours. You grip both your legs and pull them towards you. Giving Tom a better angle to penetrate. He starts to gain momentum. Thrusting harder and deeper. While you whimper uncontrollably. Squirming from pleasure trapped under his rough pounding body. You just want him to pound you again and again.

He grunts while his movement became jagged and irregular. The words caught in his throat several times. Drowning in each other eyes. “I love you (Y/N).”

Throwing your arms around his neck, you pull him towards you. Whispering his name. Praising him. Feeling him grow incredibly large inside you. Stretching you. Moaning into his ear. And he doesn't need more. He jolts upward from your grasp. Your legs falling back. Tom grabs his cock with one hand as he pulls out. Followed by a shallow grunt that announced his orgasm. He manages to stay on his knees for a bare moment. In amazement and lust, you gaze upon this cock, ready to burst. Drips of wetness leaking from the tip. But as soon as the sensations take over his body, he topples over. Resting on one arm, hovering several inches above your heaving body. The other stroking his length with an intensity you never have seen before.

You take a moment, just as he is about to burst. You force your cock under it. Grasping both of them together with your hands. And take over. Tom cries out as his eyes widen. Both rubbing the cock with the same intensity. The touch of your cock against his, and his balls touching your flesh made him cum immediate. Your load boils up in an instant.

From both the slits, a shower of cum jets forward. And as it releases, Tom cries out loudly. Calling out your name. Growling. Groaning from release. Large strings of wetness spill onto your chest. Each stroke releasing another. More and more. Coating you in wetness. Literally dripping everywhere down your body.

"Y-You're everything." Tom gasped after he recovered his breath. His lips caressing the side of your neck. Sucking the skin between his teeth. Making sure to leave a mark. His cock semi-hard rubbing against yours. You can't help but feel numb and paralyzed by the touch on your skin. His tongue sensually licking the wetness from your skin. While grinding against you. "I love you." His lips finding yours again. "I love you so much…"

"Damn… Tom." Slinging your arms around his neck. Pulling him closer to you. The wetness spilling from one body onto the other. "You came three times." Feeling his hardening length grow against your thigh. "And you're not done, I feel." You chuckle with a blush.

"You turn me on incredibly." He smiles. "That's no secret." Pressing small kisses on your collarbone, up towards your lips. "But I plan to even that score… tonight." Biting his lower lip. "If you allow me to that is…" Roaming his fingers along your skin. His mind occupied on all the ways he could.

“I’m might pass out before we reach the bed.” You smile as you feel him harder again. As you two cuddle within each other's embrace. Slow, soft kisses followed by muffled moans, and fingers tracing the outlines of sweating, shuddering, and drained frames.

"Let's do it everywhere except for the bed." While searching for your cock with his other hand. Throwing one leg over, taking a seat on you. Rubbing the wetness and sweat down the crack of his ass. Teasing you with his hole. "Fill me up again." He growls, pushing down on your cock while spreading his legs. "I can't get enough of it." He shudders and groans as you begin to stretch him up again. Gasping as your sensitive skin was pleasured again. "And so do you, I see."

And so the night goes on. Time isn't of the essence. It's the realization that hits you. Love was always closer than you ever thought. Friends seem more than just friends. Fate sure had its saying in this. Tom was it all. From the start, you had been dreaming him into your life. And now it's finally there. Lying there beside each other.

The way it meant to be. After all those years. Keeping up a facade. Creating a life behind illusions. Hiding behind a mask, pretending to be someone that you're not. But people expect you to be. What people want you to be.

Hiding the truth. It's easy to hide at first. And it's comforting. Showing that other you. Living the easy life. Not confronting your daemons. But eventually, it starts gnawing at you. Your conscience chipping at that sense of security. Afraid the real you might show through the cracks. That people find the real you. It's terrifying. It's haunting. You found ways to put aside your needs. But deep down, there's always a longing. And to satisfy that feeling. You need someone. You have to be the real version of you. And that version is with Tom. Where it needed to be.

“There’s someone at the door.” Tom whispers softly beside you. “Wake up, darling.” His soft hands straddle across your back. Squeezing your ass cheeks in the process. Hearing him giggle to himself.

"Probably breakfast..." Rubbing the sleepers from your eyes. Releasing a long drawn yawn as your eyes adapt to the light coming through the curtains. Illuminating Tom's handsome features beside you. Your hand on an expedition under the blankets, looking for some of that skin of Tom.

“You hungry?” Tom rolling into your arms. His fingers tracing along your bare naked body.

"Not yet." Reeling him in for a morning kiss. You both couldn't stop smiling. "But, I do want something else."

“Oh, you bet.” He chuckles while his fingers trace further down. “But first… have I…” Tom stifling a groan and a laugh, struggling to keep talking as he moves onto you. “...-told... you?” While fighting over the position who spoons who. “-…how much…”

“I love you…?” Finishing his sentence with a laugh. Before pushing Tom on his back, and continue to go down on him. Receiving a chuckling laugh from him as he tries to intervene your ticklish touches. Peppering kisses all over his body. Hearing a click of a phone camera. “Are you going to post that?” You mumble in-between praising his body with your lips. “Because there’s nothing I want more.”

“Good.” He smiles as you take a rest on his chest. While Tom rakes through your hair ever so lightly. Watching him scroll through his camera roll. Filled with pictures of you. “I want to world to know.” Pressing a kiss on your forehead as picks the best one. Confidence and pride in his voice.

You halt him, leaning over and grabbing your own phone. “Promise me one thing.” Taking a selfie. “We shut down our phones after.”

“And then I’m so going to do you.” He grins.

“That depends... on who posts their pictures first.”

A/N: I hope this has been worth the wait.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader #tom holland x male!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #tom holland male reader #tom holland male!reader #male!reader #male reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #male reader smut #Smut

265 notes · View notes

merakiaes · 4 years

Text

The Tracker’s Sister - Reg Slivko

Pairing: Reg Slivko x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: The title is horrible but I really couldn’t think of a better one so I hope you’ll be willing to ignore it hahah😭 Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes, I hope you like it. Let me know what you think xx

Wordcount: 4377

Summary: Captain James Conrad’s younger sister comes along on the ship for the mission on Skull Island, and catches the eye of a certain brown-eyed soldier.

Somewhere in Saigon, district Quảng Nam, you were sitting in a club and casually reading a book, completely uncaring about the fact that you were the only woman there who wasn’t a stripper or an escort, and also about the fact that your brother’s harmless game of pool had turned into a full-blown fight and that he was now beating on his opponent and his friends with a broken pool stick.

You were used to this kind of behavior at this point. You weren’t very bothered by his aggressive habits, knowing he could hold his own more than well enough – much to the dismay of anyone who happened to land themselves on the receiving end of his temper.

You simply sat there at your table, wetting the tip of your fingers in order to flip the page of your book while James flipped one of the guys to the floor and hit another in the face, declaring himself the winner in well under a minute.

And that’s when they approached him, two men you had never seen in your life before, finally causing your attention to leave the book.

“An uncharted island?” Your brother’s eyebrows shot up in an unimpressed manner as the man who had introduced himself as Bill Randa explained the mission for him, and so did yours, before you moved your eyes back to your book.

“Let me list all the ways you're gonna die.” He continued, raising his hands and beginning to count off his fingers. “Rain, heat, mud, disease-carrying flies and mosquitos. Sure, you could load up on the atabrine for the malaria... But what about the other bacteria?”

“And don’t forget the things that will try to eat you alive.” You spoke up flatly, without looking up from your book.

The two scientists turned to look at you, and the youngest of the two, Brooks, gave you a look. “Who are you, again?” He asked, and you simply spared him a glance and a raised eyebrow.

However, you immediately went back to the book in your hands, letting your brother do the talking.

At the question sent your way, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into his seat, setting his stern gaze on the young scientist. “She’s my sister.” He replied. “So I would watch that tone if I were you.”

A look of realization crossed over his face, and Randa cleared his throat, motioning for the money laid out on the table. “We'll double that.” He said.

“You have no idea how dangerous this is.” James wasted no time in replying. “I want five times that. Plus, a bonus if we make it back.”

“If?”

“Pay him.” Randa said, waving his hand. “I mean, I think Mr. Conrad should be fairly compensated.”

Brooks nodded, and Randa gave your brother an expectant look.

“So that’s it then?” He asked. “You’ll come along?”

“I’ll agree to it.” James nodded. “But my sister is coming.”

The two scientists instantly exchanged a doubtful look. “I don’t think-“

“If she doesn’t come, I don’t either.” James quickly interrupted him, giving him a stern look.

This time, it was returned, their demeanors turning sour. “If you bring her along, she’s your responsibility.” Randa said. “We’re not going to let inexperience jeopardize this mission, let’s make that clear.”

At this, you finally had enough of just sitting by and listening in, closing the book in your hands and looking up at him with a heavy sigh. “With all due respect, sir, the only thing I’m good at is reading. I have no interest in going to an unexplored island.” You told him in a flat tone, your face equally as neutral.

“Do you take me for a fool?” James joined in. “You really thing I would bring my nineteen-year-old sister along on a life-threatening mission? She’s staying on the ship.”

“Obviously.” You added, watching as Randa’s face pulled into a tense and awkward smile.

“Of course.” He nodded. “You’ve got yourself a deal then. We look forward to seeing the two of you again soon.”

With that said, the two of them stood up and left, and come the next evening, James and yourselves were boarding the ship with your bags slung over your shoulders, ready for a new adventure.

Or, well, James was. You weren’t really the adventurous type, but rather more of a sit in silence and read kind of girl, something you’d inherited from your late mother.

When James joined the army and went out into the world to follow in your father’s footsteps and honor his name, you stayed behind in your hometown with your mom, and you remained there until she passed away when you were sixteen and James became your only living relative and therefore also your legal guardian.

You’d been on the move with him ever since. You wished he would settle down somewhere and stop accepting missions that put his life in danger, but that was more so for his sake than for yours because you didn’t really mind moving around, and at the end of the day, it was your only source of income.

So you made the best of the situation every time, this time being no different.

You happily greeted anyone you came across on the ship, and you also took it upon yourself to introduce your brother seeing as he was too distrusting to do so himself.

Other than a dozen scientists, you got to meet with Preston Packard and Jack Chapman, who both greeted you with respect even though you would be doing nothing to contribute to the mission, something that instantly brought your mood up.

After that, James and the rest of the scientists and soldiers who would be coming along to the island were called to a briefing, leaving you to get settled in yours and James’ shared room on your own.

In the briefing room, everyone of significance were gathered and divided into their respective groups, soldiers on one side and the scientists on the other, the latter sitting quietly and awkwardly, but the former chatting away like it was just any other day.

And right now, you were the topic, and Reg Slivko being the victim of his fellow soldiers’ torment.

“I heard he brought his sister.” Cole said, pushing on Reg’s shoulder lightly and flashing him a playful grin. “She’s supposed to be your age.”

“Oh, I met her just a few minutes ago.” Jack joined in, smiling. “A fine looking young lass, good manners, and funny too.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively at the youngest soldier, and Reg was all in on it to a start, laughing along with them.

“You hear that, eh?” Mills said, smirking mischievously. “Maybe this is the time where you finally meet your match, get lucky and lose your V-card.”

At that, everyone but the boy on the receiving end of the jokes broke into loud laughs, his face pulling into an angry, offended glare. “How many times to I have to tell you? I’m not a virgin!” He exclaimed, which only made them laugh louder.

“Keep telling yourself that, man.” Mills slapped his back, not at all fazed by the glare he got in return.

None of them got the time to say anything else as Jack was called to the front and the subject was changed, all of them turning serious – as serious as Reg Slivko could get, that is.

About half an hour later, the briefing was all over and done with, and you were still in yours and James’ room, the latter not yet having returned.

You had made it a habit a long time ago to not fall asleep until he was there to sleep too, so you occupied yourself with the cassette player you had brought with you.

It was an old and worn-out player, however. It tended to stop working every once in a while, one of those times being right now, of course when James wasn’t there to help you fix it, leaving you to annoyedly fiddle with it yourselves.

You had no idea what you were doing, though, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you did, strings of curses leaving your lips.

Reg Slivko was in a mood as good as ever, whistling a happy tune as he walked through one of the many corridors of the ship, heading in no particular direction.

It was then that his ears picked up on the light, gentle voice from one of the open doors ahead, and more specifically the colorful language said voice was spilling out.

The contrast caused his eyebrow to raise in surprise and mild interest, his whistling coming to a stop and his pace slowing down.

He instantly realized who the voice had to belong to and when he reached the open doorway and peeked his head inside, he got it confirmed when his eyes found your form sitting cross-legged in one of the two beds, cursing and roughly handling a cassette player.

His face instantly pulled into a wide grin, at first because he realized you were extremely attractive, and then because he, for some reason, found your frustration and the accompanying pout on your lips extremely cute.

He stayed right there for a moment, amused at the fact that you hadn’t noticed him yet, but when he noticed you becoming too aggravated, he raised his hand to the doorframe and gently knocked on it, watching as your head whipped around to face him.

Your eyes were wide with surprise and your heart beating hard and quick in your chest, but when you regained your composure, your face instantly pulled into a smile to match his own.

“Oh, hi.” You greeted him, and he wasted no time in pushing himself off the doorframe to step inside your room.

“Do you need help?” He chuckled, motioning for the cassette player in your hands with an eyebrow raised in amusement.

Your smiled turned shy, your eyes flickering down to the device. “Would you mind?” You asked carefully, looking back up with a sheepish chuckle. “I'm afraid I’m not nearly as handy as my brother. I’ve been trying to get it to work for an hour but can’t seem to figure out what the problem is.”

He chuckled right back, coming over to you. “I don’t mind at all.” He said, motioning for the bed. “May I?”

You wasted no time in scooting over to make room for him, and in turn, he wasted no time in sitting down.

You wordlessly handed him the cassette player and he immediately started working on it, pressing and twisting all of the buttons first, and when getting no response from the device, he turned it around and peeled off the plastic piece at the back.

From then on forward, you had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but not even a minute later, the cassette player released a rustling noise, and not long after that, music filled the room.

A proud grin overcame his features, and your lips pulled into a wide smile too.

“Wow, that was quick.” You said, taking the player back from him when he held it out for you, looking up to meet his eyes. “Thank you.”

He casually shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t mention it.” He said, holding your gaze for a moment before nodding to the player in your hands. "You've got good taste in music." He complimented, and you chuckled.

“James isn’t too fond of it.” You replied, eyes squinting playfully. “Would you believe me of I told you he likes classical?”

“It’s always the ones you least expect who do.” He snickered, before sticking out his hand. “I’m Reg. Reg Slivko.”

You turned off the music and put the cassette player to the side, and took his outstretched hand in yours, giving his a soft shake. ”I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you Reg Slivko.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. It’s not every day a guy meets a girl as pretty as you.” He answered smoothly, his demeanor taking a more flirtatious turn.

You chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Does that usually work on girls?” You asked, tilting your head and squinting your eyes.

“I wouldn’t know.” He only shrugged, his smile softening. “I signed up for the army the second I graduated and I wasn’t very popular in school.”

You hummed, the playfulness melting off and being replaced with sincerity. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” You said softly. “I was something of an outcast myself.”

“Really? I find that very hard to believe.” He said, his flirty smile returning. “Pretty, funny, polite. You don’t strike me as an outcast.”

Your entire body turned warm at the compliments that never stopped coming, and you hoped to God that he couldn’t see the blush rising to your cheeks. “Tell that to Theresa Jackson.” You chuckled, back, and before either of you could say anything else, James walked in.

“What’s going on here?” He asked, slowly walking into the room and causing the two of you to turn to look at him.

“Oh, James.” You instantly smiled at the sight of your brother, holding a hand out to the boy next to you. “This is Reg.”

“Slivko, sir.” Reg quickly added, clearing his throat and the humorous, flirtatious demeanor melting right off.

James hummed, obviously not impressed, and raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what business do you have in my sister’s bed, Reg Slivko?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes at that, the smile falling from your lips.

“He was just helping me fix my cassette player.” You said, giving your brother a pointed look.

In return, he raised his eyebrows at you, silently asking you “are you sure that’s all there’s to it?”, but before either of you could say anything else, Reg got up to his feet, standing up from your bed with a shrug.

“I was just about to leave.” He said, and James didn’t miss a beat, giving him a nod and a narrow-eyes look.

“I’m sure you were.” He agreed, lips pulled into a tense and sarcastic smile.

Reg nodded, and after sparing you one last glance, he walked right past your brother without another word, taking a right in the corridor outside and disappearing from your view.

The second he was gone, James closed the door to the room and flicked off the light in the roof, instead moving over to his bed where he turned on the table lamp standing beside it.

Falling back on the bed, you clasped your hands over your stomach and heaved a heavy, over-dramatic sigh. “You’re the worst.” You told your older brother in a grumble, and all he did was chuckle in response, the two of you going to bed shortly after.

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you wanted to do was to find Reg and talk to him again, but your brother had other plans, dragging you along for the entire first half of the day.

By the time he finally let you go off on your own, you couldn’t find Reg anywhere, and when you did some time later, he was out on deck joking around with all of his soldier-friends, drinking beer, listening to music and playing around shirtless in the afternoon sun.

You weren’t a very big people-person, hence the foul mood you had been in when in the club with James two night prior, so you weren’t very keen on approaching him when he was surrounded by people.

Unfortunately for you, that was pretty much all of the time for the rest of the journey, so eventually you just gave up and stuck to your brother’s side.

You reached your destination in what felt like no time, and soon, the morning on which your brother and the others would be flying to the island was upon you.

You were going to be staying on the ship with most of the scientists and didn’t really have to get up early, but you were still up and at it at the crack of dawn to help your brother prepare and to see him off, the two of you currently standing out by the choppers where everyone were pulling their own weight to get everything packed up.

“Go talk to her already.” Mills told his fellow soldier where they stood on the other side of the deck, sparing him a glance while he packed the record player into its briefcase. “You’ve been standing here staring at her for ten minutes now and it’s starting to get weird.”

Reg’s head instantly whipped around, his eyes leaving your form to meet his friend’s gaze. “What? I’m not staring.” He denied his accusations, glaring.

But Mills obviously saw right through him. “Uh-huh.” He said, giving him a deadpan look and raising his hand to his chin. “Is that drool I see?”

“What? No.” Reg hurried to bring his hand up to his chin to wipe it, finding that there was, in fact, no drool there.

His reaction brought a laugh from Mills, who shook his head at him in amusement. “Idiot.” He said simply. “We leave in less than an hour and you’re going to regret it if you don’t go talk to her, so go say goodbye. Go.”

He shoved at his shoulder and Reg held his hands up, backing away. “Fine, fine! I’m going!” He said while glaring, turning around with another word and approaching you where you were leaning against the side of one of the choppers, your brother luckily occupied with talking to a scientist.

You noticed him approaching instantly, your back straightening, your arms uncrossing from over your face and your lips pulling into a smile.

“Hi.” He was the first one to speak once he reached you, and you wasted no time in replying.

“Hey. You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He smiled back widely, and then his confidence took a sudden turn, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. “Hey, listen, I was wondering if, maybe, when we get back to the mainland, we could go out for a movie, or dinner, or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, the smile playing on your lips widening. “Like a date?” You asked, and he shrugged.

“Yeah. I mean, if it’s- if you want to. And if it’s okay with your brother.” He trailed off towards the end, his eyes flickering to something over your shoulder

It was only then, when you turned your head around to see what he was looking at, that you noticed James had now abandoned the conversation he had previously been having to listen in to yours instead, his pointed stare never wavering from the boy in front of you.

“You know what? I don’t-“ He started, but you immediately cut him off by throwing your hand out to slap his chest.

His eyes flickered down to meet yours at that and you glared. “Don’t you have someone else to bother? Go away, please.” You told him, and with a long look at Reg, he did as told, picking up his bag and leaving you alone.

Once he was out of earshot, you turned back to Reg with a smile, your head nodding. “Dinner and a movie both sound nice.” You agreed. “But for now, your main focus should be coming back in one piece.”

His entire face was lit up in a huge grin, and a chuckle left his lips at your words. “I can promise you that I will.” He said, and you snickered back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’ll hold you to that.” You said, the two of you then walking over to where the others were getting ready to board their assigned choppers.

You said goodbye to both Reg and your brother, the latter of the two goodbyes being a bit more sentimental, James hugging you close and kissing the top of your head, making you promise to be good, as if you were ever anything but.

Once they had left, you were on your own with literally no one to talk to, and you found yourself at wit’s end trying to find something to occupy yourself with.

You’d brought books with you but only three, and you were a quick reader, all of them being finished within two days. And just your luck, your cassette player chose the most horrible timing to stop working again, and no one on board knew how to fix it.

But just when you thought you were going to die from boredom, they returned, and you wasted no time in running outside and sprinting straight into your brother’s arms, only then realizing how worried you had been.

When you came back apart, you looked up at him with a worried gaze, taking note of how roughed up and exhausted he looked.

“Are you okay?” You asked, and watched as his lips pulled into a tight smile.

“I’m alright, don’t you worry.” He assured you and you smiled back, nodding your head.

Your smile faltered as soon as it appeared, however, when you spotted another familiar face behind him, and James instantly noticed, stepping to the side to give you free passage.

“Go.” He said, and you gave him a doubtful look.

“Are you sure?” You asked, and he simply nodded.

“I have some business to take care of. We can talk more later.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, your feet moving you in the direction of Reg just a second later.

Mills was the first one who noticed you approaching and slapped his friend’s shoulder, causing him to look up.

He barely even got the time to process your face, before you had reached him and pulled him into a careful embrace.

“Oh.” He mumbled into your neck, eyes widening in surprise. But he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you back, melting into it. “Wow. I could get used to this… You smell really good, has anyone ever told you that?”

You chuckled at his words and much to his dismay, the warmth of your embrace was gone too quickly, the two of you stepping away from each other again.

You immediately began looking him over for injuries, and you instantly spotted the torn up fabric of his pant-leg, or more specifically the wound peeking out from underneath.

Your eyes flickered back up to his, and you raised an eyebrow. “What happened to the promise of coming back in one piece?” You asked, and he shrugged, giving you a small smile.

“My leg is still attached to my body, isn’t it?” He pointed out, bringing a chuckle from your lips.

“Yes, I guess it is.” You agreed. “Can you walk?”

His face turned serious at the question. “I’ve just spent the last twenty-four hours running from a lizard with teeth the size of my head. Pretty sure that proves that there’s nothing wrong with my leg. Just a scratch on the surface.”

At the sound of his words, your interest was immediately piqued, but you knew it was neither the time nor place to ask about it.

“Well, we should still get it cleaned up.” You told him, reaching out and taking his hand in yours. “Come on.”

He did nothing to protest, limping slightly in his step as he followed you into the ship where you brought him to your room.

You instructed him to sit down on your bed and left him alone for a few minutes, heading off to the medbay where the other survivors were being checked over, to retrieve a medkit.

Once you had everything you needed, you returned to your room and wasted no time in getting to work, starting off with cutting off the lower part of his pant-leg and then moving on to clean the wound.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. I’m very well capable of patching myself up.” Reg told you as he watched your hands work, leaning back on his palms to be able to keep his leg straight out in front of him.

You glanced up at him at that, raising an eyebrow. “Are you complaining?” You asked, your lips pulling into a smile when he immediately shook his head.

“No. Definitely not.” He said, and you chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.” You said, turning your attention back to his leg with a shrug. “And besides, you owe me a date. Can’t have you dying on me from an infected wound.”

In the corner of your eye, you noticed him nodding his head. “A very valid point.” He agreed, and you smiled, finishing up bandaging his ankle.

“Exactly, now turn around. I need to clean the cut on your shoulder, too.” You instructed him, making a “turn around” motion with your finger.

He wasted no time in obliging, bringing his leg down from the bed and turning around. “Yes, ma’am.” He said, grabbing ahold of the upper hem of his shirt and tugging it up to expose his back to you.

In turn, you wasted no time in soaking a fresh cloth with alcohol, preparing to clean the cut stretched out over his shoulder blade.

“So, where are you from?” You asked, trying to make some light conversation.

“Detroit, born and raised.” He replied without missing a beat and you hummed, reality coming crashing down on you and dampening your mood significantly.

“I’m from London, if you hadn’t already gathered that from the accent.” You told him lowly. “I guess that date is going to be harder than we thought, huh?”

But much to your surprise, he only shook his head. “That won’t be a problem. I’d-“ He cut himself short for a moment, a hiss leaving his lips when you pressed the cold, alcohol-soaked rag to the cut.

But he regained his composure rather quickly, glancing over his shoulder to meet your eyes. “I’d follow you anywhere.” He finished, giving you a crooked, goofy smile.

You automatically smiled back, the two of you holding eye-contact for another moment before he turned back around to allow you to finish patching him up, both of you knowing you would continue the conversation later.

(If you want to be tagged when I post Reg Slivko stories, let me know in a comment, ask or private message)

#reg slivko #reg slivko x reader #reg slivko imagine #slivko x reader #slivko #thomas mann #james conrad #james conrad x reader #james conrad imagine #kong skull island

250 notes · View notes

sachigram · 4 years

Text

Telescope Now Chapter 4

((click here to read on ao3!!))

When Izaya wakes again, it's dark outside. He jumps, thinking he slept all day, but then he realizes it's just raining again. He feels a bout of nausea from his sudden movement, and he quickly sinks back into the couch with a loud groan.

“You sick?” Shizuo's voice asks. Izaya squints up at him. Shizuo is still here? He's on the other side of the sectional, as if determined to be as far away from Izaya as possible.

“Why're you here?” Izaya asks, letting his head fall. He doesn't remember much of the night before after deciding to go to Sunshine 60. He definitely doesn't remember how he got home.

“Wow. Did you just entirely forget about last night, or are you still waking up?” Shizuo says, and Izaya rolls so he can look at Shizuo without lifting his head.

“We didn't fuck, did we?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo chokes on his own saliva, his face going bright red as he coughs.

“What?! No! What the fuck?!”

“Ah. Then I guess it doesn't matter what happened,” Izaya says. He pulls his coat a little tighter around himself. He wants a blanket, but he doesn't want to move, and he's damn sure not going to ask Shizuo to get him one.

“It matters,” Shizuo says. He's got his feet propped on the coffee table, and Izaya considers berating him for it, but he lets it go. Shizuo must have helped him home.

“How pathetic am I?” Izaya asks, chuckling at his own misfortune. “Reduced to being helped by someone who wants me dead. Is this what rock bottom is like?”

“Stop being dramatic,” Shizuo huffs. “You got drunk. It happens. I'd be wasted all the time if I were you.”

“Ah.”

“I mean— fuck, that came out wrong. It's just that you're, you know, going through stuff, and I'm just saying if it were me, I wouldn't be able to handle it,” Shizuo babbles. Izaya smirks.

“What about any of this makes you think I'm handling it?”

“It just seems like you're the type that can handle anything,” Shizuo says.

“Shizu-chan, you don't know a thing about me. I guess that's commonplace for you, isn't it? Not knowing things.” Izaya tries to glare at Shizuo, but it's more effort than it's worth, being an asshole when he feels this bad. “Why did you stay the night here?”

“It was raining,” Shizuo says. “Also you were...upset. I don't know, I guess I thought it'd make me look even worse to leave before you woke up. I should have, though, since you don't even remember half of what you said.”

Izaya frowns, hating this. What the hell did he say? Surely, even drunk, he wouldn't go professing all his secrets to Shizuo, right? He really doesn't need another reason for anyone to pity him right now, and it's not like he's ever held on to the hope that Shizuo returns his desires. He decided a long time ago that if he couldn't have Shizuo's affesctions, he'd accept all of Shizuo's hatred. This is old news, nothing worth fretting over.

Right?

“What did I say?” Izaya asks.

“Uh.” Shizuo rubs the back of his neck, and Izaya is mortified, on pins and needles as he waits for Shizuo to keep talking. “You cried. Like, a lot. It was kind of concerning. You were even crying while you were asleep.”

“Oh. That's all?”

“That's all?”

“I can live with crying while drunk. Maybe I'm a sad drunk. I don't get drunk often enough to know.” Izaya tilts his head toward the TV and snorts. Shizuo is watching a home renovation show.

“You also passed out in the middle of the sidewalk. I guess you blacked out from the alcohol. I didn't know how drunk you were until we were moving. I should've stopped you from drinking so much,” Shizuo says.

“Stop acting like you're responsible for me. It's annoying.”

“You're annoying,” Shizuo counters maturely.

Izaya is going to tell Shizuo to leave, but it sticks in his mouth, refuses to come out. Shizuo looks nice like this, in the dim light from Izaya's living room, his white sleeves rolled up and his hair tousled from crashing on the couch. Izaya just wishes he could watch Shizuo stuffing his face with food to complete the image. It's like observing a wild animal in its natural habitat after getting used to only seeing images of it hunting. Maybe Shizuo feels the same way about Izaya, because despite his casual demeanor, he doesn't seem very at ease. Maybe he thinks Izaya is about to attack when in actuality, Izaya can barely lift his own head.

“Do you need something?” Shizuo asks suddenly. Izaya realizes he was staring.

“No.” Izaya watches a woman on the TV have a breakdown about her counters being too dark. Everything about this situation is so bizarre that Izaya can't grasp it's actually happening. “Am I still asleep?” he asks, expecting his sisters to emerge from somewhere.

“Stop being weird,” Shizuo says with a grimace, and Izaya laughs.

“I think maybe I've finally gone insane. I don't recognize dreams from reality anymore. They all just blend together.”

“You mentioned that before.”

Izaya grumbles, tries again to remember the night before. He recalls bits and pieces, knows he was an emotional wreck. It's possible he spilled his guts to Shizuo and Shizuo is just being nice about it. Then again, Shizuo has never been nice about anything before, so Izaya doubts it.

“Can you do me a favor?” Izaya asks suddenly, and Shizuo blinks at him. “Well. Multiple favors, actually.”

“What?”

“Can you go to the medicine cabinet and get me some ibuprofen? It's in my bathroom upstairs. Also a glass of water— and a blanket. It's freezing in here.” Izaya shivers in emphasis.

Shizuo narrows his gaze at Izaya before standing and shuffling away. Izaya hugs his coat tighter around himself. It's really too cold, and he wants to adjust the heat, but he doesn't want to move. Asking Shizuo to adjust the thermostat would be like challenging the gods. Izaya has no doubts Shizuo would break the thermostat into something completely unrecognizable, an avant-garde masterpiece.

Shizuo returns with a grunt. He tosses a heavy blanket over Izaya's head, and sets the pills and water on the table. Izaya adjusts, recognizing the fabric of the blanket.

“You brought the duvet from my bed,” he says, amused.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know where you keep extra blankets?” Shizuo asks, defensive.

Izaya hums and lifts up to grab the pills. He pauses, groaning as the room spins around him. Carefully, he sets the pills back down and stands, hurrying to the bathroom where he collapses in front of the toilet and vomits until his stomach is even emptier than it was before.

“Now this is rock bottom,” he murmurs, leaning back and flushing the toilet with his foot. He stays on the floor for a few moments, trying to decide whether he should throw up more, or risk taking the pills now. He stands and leans against the counter, looking at himself in the mirror. His reflection seems to blur around the edges, almost as if he's just an illusion. He sneers at himself. “I don't have time for this today. Not while he's here. Torture me later.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” Shizuo's voice asks, muffled from the wood of the door.

“Does that make you feel left out?” Izaya asks.

“Nah, knock yourself out. I'm gonna order food. You don't have anything here. What do you want?”

Izaya pauses, looking at the door in disbelief. He opens it, and Shizuo stands there, scowling at him.

“Well?” Shizuo barks.

“You're having food delivered here?” Izaya asks, giddy in spite of himself that Shizuo isn't leaving any time soon. “Get whatever you want. I don't think I'll be eating for a while unless I want to keep barfing.”

“Eh, soon enough you'll be craving something greasy. Tom-san always eats a lot after a binger.” Shizuo reaches in his pocket, pulling his phone out. He looks at Izaya closely. “Will you turn your nose up at a burger?”

Izaya grimaces, feeling nauseated at the thought of something so unhealthy. “If I do, you can just eat it yourself.”

“Fair point,” Shizuo says, and then he walks back towards the living room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Izaya asks his reflection. “Shizu-chan is hanging out with me.” He starts brushing his teeth. “Am I still dreaming?”

“Nope!” Mairu hops up on the bathroom counter, kicking her feet out as she watches him. “You've been asleep so long. I'm bored, you know?” She reaches out and pokes him. “I think Shizuo likes you.”

Izaya cuts his eyes at her. This is the first time he's actually seen either of the twins outside of his dreams. He looks around for Kururi, finally sees her hiding slightly behind Mairu.

“He seems worried about you,” Mairu continues. “You're way more popular than we thought.”

“You should've seen how many people came to your funeral,” Izaya says after he spits into the sink. “No one came to support me, aside from maybe Shiki-san. Kine wasn't even there.”

“Shiki-san likes you, too,” Mairu says.

“Different from Shizuo,” Kururi adds, her voice small. She sounds upset, and in contrast Mairu sounds too cheerful, like she's trying to make up for Kururi.

“Yeah, I don't think Shiki-san wants to jump your bones. But he might! Oh wow, that'd be something. We'd be loaded for real!” Mairu giggles and waves her arms around. “Hey, get over Shizuo and try to get with Shiki-san instead. Or Akabayashi-san! They're both executives, right?”

“I regret ever raising you,” Izaya tells them. He grabs his headband and pulls his bangs off his forehead so he can wash his face.

“Maybe this is what it will take to make you and Shizuo stop fighting,” Mairu says. “One big tragedy to bring people closer together! It's like a messed up love story.”

“Shizu-chan hates me,” Izaya says.

“Then why is he visiting you?” Kururi asks.

“I don't know. Why are you visiting me?” Izaya counters.

“We're here every day. You need other people, you know, aside from us.” She bites her lip, a nervous habit of hers, and she adds, quietly, “we miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Izaya says. He looks over at their faces, and his eyes burn. “I don't know how I'm supposed to move on.”

“We aren't going to let you move on,” Mairu says, and she reaches out to take Izaya's hand. He lets go of his facial products in favor of giving them his full attention.

“Is it really you in my dreams?” Izaya asks them. “Sometimes I see memories, but then other times it's like you're both trying to scare me to death.”

“Oh, who knows?” Mairu asks. She grins at him. “Maybe it's your own guilty conscience, or maybe we're just trying to wake you up.”

“You're both rotten. I don't know why I miss you.”

“I wanna talk more about Shizuo!” Mairu says.

“He asks us about you,” Kururi says.

“He does?” Izaya asks.

“Whenever he sees us, he'll mention you. He's kind of obsessed with you, but I guess you know that already,” Mairu says.

“Obsessed,” Izaya repeats, looking at himself in the mirror again. “He probably just feels sorry for me.”

“Would you feel sorry if it was him?” Kururi asks.

“You mean if Kasuka died?” Izaya puts a dollop of soap in his palm and starts his tedious skincare routine. “I don't know. I think I'd be happy if he was in pain. If he was miserable, I'd know he wasn't out forgetting about me.” He rinses his face and looks up to find his sisters aren't there anymore. Izaya takes a deep breath and towels his face dry before applying a moisturizer. Shizuo appears then, his eyebrows rising as he looks at Izaya.

“Wow. Are those cat ears?” Shizuo asks, grinning. He points to the headband.

“My sisters have matching ones,” Izaya says. “Or had, I guess.”

“Food's on the way. Sorry it's more junk, but I can't really cook.”

Izaya pauses and glances over at him. “Shinra told you to babysit me, didn't he?”

“'Babysit' wasn't really what he said,” Shizuo says, and he leans against the door frame. “Look, I liked your sisters. I really think they would've liked for me to...”

“Stop.” Izaya doesn't look at him, doesn't dare. He applies another product to his face and forces his voice into indifference. “Nothing has changed about me, Shizu-chan. So you've seen a glimpse of my personality you don't hate yet, so what? It doesn't mean you and I are going to be chummy.”

“No shit,” Shizuo snaps.

“What exactly do you think you're going to get out of this? My gratitude? Do you think I'm going to stop tormenting you? Allow me to ease your caveman thoughts before you have a meltdown— I'm the same person I always was, and I'm incapable of leaving you in peace.”

“I-za-ya.” When Shizuo says it like that, it's almost like a song, like a prelude to an incoming battle cry. Izaya tenses, can't help it, but at the same time, he's craving for Shizuo to throw a punch. Izaya needs some normalcy, and even if he's enjoying Shizuo's company for some incredibly bizarre reason, a fight would make them both feel so much better. Izaya has a lot of pent up tension, is practically vibrating with it, and Shizuo must be able to tell, because the fury in his eyes evaporates and is replaced with something else, something terrible.

“I don't want your pity, and I don't want your help,” Izaya hisses, glaring at him. He feels such hatred in his body that he thinks he might sink into the ground from the weight of it.

“I don't pity you,” Shizuo says.

“Right. I'm sure some part of you enjoys this. I'm actually proud, Shizu-chan, that's very cruel of you. I didn't think you had the brain power to be so vindictive.”

“I'm tired of hating you, Izaya,” Shizuo says suddenly, his voice rising. He grips the top of the door frame and cracks it. “It's exhausting, and it's stupid. We're too old for this shit.”

“So saving me from myself is going to make me hate you less?” Izaya spits, and Shizuo growls before taking a step forward.

“Where does this end? Tell me that. When you envision your life without me, is it because you've killed me? What do I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone?!” Shizuo shouts, and Izaya takes a step back, can't help it. He's cornered, and they both know it. Still, Izaya isn't capable of yielding, and he's even less capable of shutting up, even when it's good for him.

“I don't envision you at all unless it's the idea of you dying in front of me.”

“Bullshit. You're obsessed with me, you won't even let me walk down the street without trying to pick a fight with me. Why the fuck do you hate me so much?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya leers up at him.

“Because you're an idiot, an overgrown toddler who destroys everything in his path the second he doesn't get his way. You spout your incessant drivel about hating violence, but violence is all you are, all you're capable of. You're a hypocrite, Shizu-chan, and I could forgive so many things, but I truly hate hypocrisy.” Izaya slaps another serum on his face and turns back to the mirror. He's well-aware of how strange this scenario is, Shizuo arguing with Izaya while he's grooming and hungover. This is a new one, strange even for them.

“God, just shut up, I'm so tired of arguing with you,” Shizuo says, shoving Izaya a bit. Izaya caches himself on the counter and turns, a knife in his hand.

“Get out,” Izaya says, and Shizuo looks from the knife to Izaya's face.

“No.”

“I mean it, get out. I feel like shit and your questions are idiotic. You're really going to ask me why I hate you? Are you really that stupid?” Izaya lifts the knife to Shizuo's neck, but Shizuo still doesn't back down. Of course he doesn't. “Last time I checked, you hated me just as much as I hate you. Can you tell me why?”

“Because you're a shitty parasite who ruins everyone's lives. You know all the shit you've done to me! You're obsessed, like I said—“

“Stop saying I'm obsessed with you like you aren't equally as hyper-focused on me. Sometimes I don't even do anything! You'd rather blame every problem you have on me than take responsibility for yourself.”

“That's because it is always to do with you, and you fucking know it!” Shizuo shouts, tilting forward. The knife slides a bit, and a trickle of blood flows from Shizuo's neck. Izaya watches it drip down, his lips curling in a snarl.

“If you hate me so much then just leave! I didn't ask for you to help me, I didn't ask for you to save my life, and I'm not asking you to stay now, you fucking monster!”

Shizuo throws a punch, and Izaya moves out of the way before slashing wildly at Shizuo's chest. Shizuo curses and jumps back, and the wall cracks where Shizuo hits it. They glare at each other, hatred clear in their faces, and Izaya can't help but grin wickedly. This is more like it. This is the monster he knows so well.

“God, Iza-nii, do you just have to ruin everything?” Mairu's voice asks from behind him. He whirls to face the mirror, and it's her face he sees instead of his own. She sounds hollow, echoing. Sometimes the twins sound like this, and sometimes they sound clear as day, as if they're really next to him.

“You aren't real,” he tells the mirror. His hand loosens around the knife, and it hits the floor, clattering on the tile. Shizuo looks at it, and then back at Izaya.

“You're really fucked up, aren't you?” Shizuo asks, but Izaya is still looking at Mairu's face. It's so easy to tell she isn't really alive anymore when she looks like this, twisted and contorted. She vanishes, and Izaya sees his own face, hisses and yanks the headband off before he steps past Shizuo and leaves the bathroom.

“Just get away from me, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, but of course Shizuo follows. He watches with a frown as Izaya marches into the kitchen and fishes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet.

“Is that really a good idea?” Shizuo asks. “You're already sick.”

“Hair of the dog,” Izaya says, pouring himself a serving. He glances at Shizuo, sighs, and then gets out a glass for him, too.

“You wanna share your fancy shit with me?” Shizuo asks. Izaya shrugs.

“Sure, why not? Give you a taste of things you can't afford on your own. It'll hurt that much more next time you're forced to buy cheap.” Izaya pours it and slides it towards Shizuo, and then he raises his own glass. “To you, monster. May you live a long life full of destruction and torment.”

“Yeah, fuck you, too,” Shizuo growls. He takes a sip, and his eyes widen a bit.

“Smooth, right? This is Shiki-san's brand. I don't break it out very often.” Izaya throws his drink back and shudders. His stomach lurches in protest, and he worries the drink might surge back up, but it doesn't. “This is the weirdest day of my life.”

“I've had weirder,” Shizuo says. He leans on the counter and watches Izaya closely. “You never answered my question.”

“I'm sure I'll die of old age before I answer everything you don't understand,” Izaya says.

“Where do you see this going? I mean it, do you really think we can fight forever?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya gazes down into his empty glass thoughtfully.

“I try not to think about you, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, and there is truth in that. He tries very hard to think about anything else.

“If you don't think of me, then how the hell do you come up with your batshit crazy schemes to piss me off? Why can't you leave me alone?”

“I don't envision my life without you, either,” Izaya says simply, and he looks up at Shizuo's confused expression.

“We can't keep this up forever.” Shizuo takes another sip of his drink. “One of us is going to die if we keep fighting.”

“A hatred like ours won't just go away. Hate is a strong emotion, one of the strongest we're capable of. If you truly hate someone, you hate them forever.”

“I don't buy that. You can stop being an asshole, and I'll stop chasing you down. It's as easy as that.”

“Is it?” Izaya asks. He pours himself another glass before he tops Shizuo off as well.

“You're the one who won't let this go,” Shizuo says gruffly.

“You're right,” Izaya replies, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. “It's not possible for me to stop hating you.”

“What if I just stop giving you the time of day? Stop rising to it, like everyone's always told me I should?” Shizuo asks, his eyes darkening as he leans closer to Izaya.

“Do you really think you can ignore me?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo throws the rest of his drink back before baring his teeth.

“I think I'll kill you if you don't back the fuck off.”

“So then kill me,” Izaya says. “I always imagined you would.”

“You want me to kill you?” Shizuo asks in disbelief, and Izaya pouts as the familiar ferocity leaves Shizuo's features.

“I'd love it if I could kill you, but I don't think you're human enough to die. I'm sure one day you'll go too far, or I will, and then you won't stop. You'll kill me, and everyone will know what you're capable of.” Izaya smiles, but it's not kind, and it's not happy. “I win either way.”

“You're crazy,” Shizuo snaps. He slams his empty glass on the counter, and it shatters. Neither of them look away from each other. “Something's wrong with you, something with your brain.”

“Pot, kettle,” Izaya says, and he gets out another glass for Shizuo. “You asked me if I'd leave you alone, and now you have your answer.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I fucking do. You're never gonna stop bothering me.”

“And you'll never stop chasing me. Isn't there a comfort in that?” Izaya asks as he pours Shizuo's glass. Shizuo barks a laugh, and Izaya looks up at him, dazed, taken aback that Shizuo could ever seem so relaxed in his presence.

“God. God. Yeah, there is.” Shizuo lifts his new glass of whiskey to Izaya. “Somehow, you're the most stable thing in my life.”

“I do aim to please you, Shizu-chan.” Izaya smirks before he sips his drink. “I bet you're wishing you let me get hit by that truck now, huh?”

Shizuo grimaces as he tosses the entirety of his drink back. “No.”

“Liar. It would've solved all your problems, and it would've been hands-off for you. Hell, you would've had a front-row seat to it! Do you think you would've been in the splash zone?”

“Izaya, fuck, stop. I don't want to think about it, okay? You—“ Shizuo shakes his head, tops off his own glass this time. “Do you really not give a fuck about yourself at all?”

Izaya scoffs, not liking the direction this conversation is going. Shizuo was supposed to like the idea, was supposed to lament saving someone who would never change. He isn't supposed to be looking at Izaya like this, like he actually gives a damn.

“Is that why you were on Sunshine last night?” Shizuo continues, and the implications hang. Izaya snorts.

“You think I was going to jump?”

“Were you?”

“Is that why you're here, Shizu-chan?”

“Answer my question, flea.”

“Answer mine!”

They glower at each other, Shizuo leaning over the shattered glass on the counter, and they both startle when there's a knock at the door. Shizuo grumbles and moves towards it, and Izaya watches him go, considers putting a cleaning product in Shizuo's drink, but thinks better of it.

“How domestic of you to answer my door, Shizu-chan,” Izaya lilts. “Rumors will spread, you know? You can't even blame me for it.”

“Fuck you, it's the—“ Shizuo starts, and then he growls. “Dammit, Shinra, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?!” Shinra shuffles inside, Celty in tow, and they both look from Shizuo to Izaya. Izaya's head throbs.

“Great, now there are two monsters in my home,” he mutters, sipping more whiskey. He feels like he'd rather be alone with the ghosts and his looming insanity than deal with all this at once.

“Did you stay the night?” Shinra asks Shizuo, ignoring Izaya and his dramatics.

“Well, yeah, I mean... It's storming and he's...” Shizuo jerks his thumb towards Izaya. “He's losing it.”

“That implies there was something left to lose!” Shinra says, laughing, and Izaya sees red. He throws his glass at Shinra, but Celty's shadows catch it before it makes impact. “Izaya-kun! What was that for?!”

Rather than answer, Izaya picks up the entire bottle of whiskey and pads towards his couch. He feels them all looking at him, but he's too tipsy to care. They're murmuring amongst themselves, and Izaya is busy tuning them out when someone jumps onto the couch next to him, startling him.

“Mairu,” he hisses lowly as she shakes his arm. She feels so real, so heavy next to him.

“Iza-nii! I'm bored!” Mairu exclaims, and the entire couch seems to move with the way she's bouncing.

“You're going to hurt him,” Kururi says, appearing at Izaya's other side.

“Look at him, he's already hurt!” Mairu keeps shaking Izaya, who has to fight to put the bottle on the coffee table before she can make him spill it. “IZA-NII!”

“Get off me!” Izaya snaps, shoving at her. It does nothing, as he just seems to phase through her. He looks at his hands, wondering how she can touch him, but he can't touch her. “You can't be here now, I'm not alone,” he whispers vehemently.

Neither of the twins seem to hear him, or more likely, they're ignoring him. They barely listened when they were alive, so Izaya isn't surprised. He feels himself being tugged by them, by something else, and he closes his eyes as a light blinds him and makes his terrible headache even worse.

When he opens his eyes, he's on the roof at Raijin. Izaya would recognize it anywhere. He used to come up here for lunch and for quiet, though Shinra would often find him anyway. He looks down at himself and is surprised to find he's transparent. He can see the tiles below as if he's not really here at all.

Off to the side, he sees a younger version of himself absorbed in a book. Izaya recognizes the title, The Picture of Dorian Gray. He still has the book at home, and he rereads it pretty often. He watches himself for a few moments, and then he hears movement on the stairs, voices carrying. The younger version of himself scoffs before ducking behind the wall, out of sight. The door opens to reveal Shizuo storming out onto the roof, Shinra chasing after him.

“Fucking drop it, Shinra!” Shizuo yells, his hands in fists. He whirls on the younger Shinra, who throws his hands up in surrender. “I'm not being nice to that goddamn bloodsucker! I'm tired of you talking to me about him; it just pisses me off!”

“I'm sorry! It's just that you're both my friends, and...” Shinra rubs at the back of his neck. “It'd be so much easier if we could all hang out together. I really think you two could be great friends.”

“What did I just say?!” Shizuo takes a threatening step forward, and Shinra howls before jumping back. “He's been sending thugs after me! I know it's him, and I'm gonna wring his scrawny neck until his head pops off!”

“Shizuo-kun, please, he's just trying to get a rise out of you! He's still really mad about you hating him on first sight, and—“

“If you say another word, one more word to me about making nice with that bastard, I'm gonna seriously hurt you. I hate him, and I want him dead. If I never saw him again, it'd be too fucking soon.”

Izaya watches them, and then he turns to his younger self, winces at the expression he sees. He remembers this day, remembers overhearing this conversation.

“I just wish you didn't feel that way,” Shinra says, and then he sighs. “C'mon, don't threaten me! I'm your friend, you know?”

“You're his friend, too,” Shizuo spits, and he crosses his arms. “I mean it, Shinra, I'm gonna kill him one day. You might as well get it through your head. I can't be chummy with a guy like that.”

“It boggles the mind that you're even chummy with me,” Shinra says, grinning wryly, and Shizuo shrugs.

“Yeah, don't remind me. You're just one of the only people who isn't scared of me, that's all it is.”

“Liar,” Izaya says, knowing full well no one can hear him. “I wasn't scared of you either, and you hated me for it.”

Shinra and Shizuo leave soon after, and Izaya is left alone with the younger version of himself, who is fingering the corners of his book forlornly. Izaya wishes he could say something to himself, but at the same time, he has no idea what he'd even say. He doesn't have any wisdom to offer, and as for comfort, every version of himself would reject it.

“This is when I decided I'd make him hate me more than anyone else,” he says aloud, watching as the young Izaya goes back to reading, huddled in a corner, tucked into himself. “I thought if it was the only way to get him to look at me, I'd be okay with it.”

“Does it work out?” the younger Izaya asks, suddenly looking right at him, maybe even through him. “Are you happy?”

“Does it matter? He's looking.”

There's a tug on his arm, and Izaya jerks awake, finds he's flat on the floor beside his coffee table. Shinra is hovering over him.

“Izaya-kun? Hey, it's okay.” Shinra puts a calming hand on Izaya's cheek, and Izaya leans into it, needs to know Shinra is really here. “Do you know where you are?”

“I'm home. Shizu-chan was here...” Izaya looks around wildly until his eyes settle on Shizuo, who is standing beside Celty, a worried look on his face. “Weren't we just at school?”

“School?” Shinra asks. “What did you see?”

“My sisters were here...” Izaya groans and tries to sit up. A fresh wave of nausea hits him, and he curls into himself instead. “You think I'm crazy.”

“I don't. I think you're going through too much for anyone to go through alone.” Shinra leans down, closer to Izaya's ear. “I'm here,” Shinra says softly, and Izaya withholds a laugh. If this isn't real, this is the cruelest trick his mind has played on him so far.

“You're heavy,” Izaya mumbles, and Shinra pulls back, offers a hand to help Izaya up.

“What the hell is this? He's seeing ghosts and passing out? And we're gonna act like it's okay?” Shizuo asks, and Shinra sighs as he supports Izaya onto the couch.

“It could be a lot of things. All of this could still be the mind processing grief, it could be sleep-deprivation—“

“I slept fine last night,” Izaya interjects, and Shinra looks between him and Shizuo, his eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Shizuo says, narrowing his eyes at Shinra. “You asked me to look after him, and he was freaking out. What was I supposed to do, leave him here alone?”

“It's just above and beyond what I asked you to do, that's all,” Shinra says, and then he turns to Izaya. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Hungry,” Izaya says earnestly. “Aren't we having food delivered soon, Shizu-chan?”

“It's here already. You just had to go and pass out.” Shizuo walks towards the couch, a paper bag in his hand, and he sets it on the coffee table in front of Izaya.

“I'm so happy the two of you are finally getting along,” Shinra says happily. He wilts when Shizuo and Izaya both give him a look.

“Can you leave? I was fine till you showed up,” Izaya says.

“So you were fine alone with Shizuo-kun?” Shinra asks.

“Yes,” Izaya snaps as he unwraps his hamburger, which is ridiculously big. “Look at this thing. How the hell do I eat this, Shizu-chan?”

“You eat it, dumbass. Can you even eat real food, or do you exclusively live off the blood of others?” Shizuo asks as he flops onto the couch beside Izaya. He reaches for the bag, and he hums in thanks when Izaya passes it to him.

“Well, Celty, I think we can go! They seem fine!” Shinra says, and he balks when Celty's PDA shoves into his face. “Really, they're doing great! You heard Izaya-kun, he wants us to go!”

“Celty can stay. You're the one on my nerves,” Izaya mumbles through a mouthful of food. Shizuo's lips twitch upwards.

“Celty and I are a package deal!” Shinra wails, and he looks closely at Shizuo. “Call if anything happens, okay?”

“Shinra really should monitor you. You passed out so suddenly.” Celty's PDA floods Izaya's vision, and he squints at the bright screen, his eyes struggling to adjust.

“I'm fine. You can all go,” Izaya says.

“No. You can relent to letting Shizuo-kun stay, or you can come stay with me. You can't be alone, I'm sorry.” Shinra steps forward and puts a hand on Izaya's shoulder, his fingers squeezing.

“As if any of you care what happens to me.” Izaya tries to shrug Shinra's hand off him, but Shinra holds on tight.

“I do care, and so does Celty.” Shinra frowns and shakes Izaya a bit. “I really think you should come stay with us for a while.”

“He's fine, I'm watching him,” Shizuo says. Izaya grimaces at him when he sees Shizuo is already almost done with his own burger, his cheeks full of food like some sort of monstrous rodent. He glares over at Izaya. “What?”

“Watching you disgusts me,” Izaya says, leaning forward to put his burger on the coffee table.

“You watching me disgusts me!” Shizuo shoots back.

“How am I supposed to look at anything else when you're smacking and—“

“Okay!” Shinra says, his hands going up. “Don't kill each other. I don't have other friends to replace you.” He nods at Shizuo, wordlessly conveying his thanks, and then he's tugging Celty towards the door. Izaya tongues at his cheek, and when he hears the door closed, he turns to Shizuo.

“You can leave now, monster. I don't want you here.”

“Tough shit,” Shizuo replies, wadding up the paper his burger was wrapped in. “Shinra's right, you shouldn't be alone.”

“I don't want you here!” Izaya shouts, and Shizuo stiffens. Izaya rarely raises his voice, hates to lose his cool, but the longer Shizuo stays and acts like Izaya is anything other than an enemy, the more Izaya feels himself slipping. “Get out.”

“So you're just gonna sit here feeling sorry for yourself?” Shizuo asks gruffly, his eyes looking from Izaya to the bottle of whiskey still on the table. “Flea—“

“Out, I said! Out, get the fuck out of my apartment!” Izaya stands, wobbles on his feet, and reaches into his pocket, withdrawing his wallet and a few bills. He throws them at Shizuo. “For your junkfood. Leave before I call security.” He makes his way back upstairs and flops into his bed, too hot with anger to even care his duvet is still on the couch. He doesn't relax until he hears the door close below him, and he's honestly surprised when Shizuo doesn't slam it.

***

It only takes a day for Shizuo to come back.

Izaya is curled on the couch, his eyes on the TV, though he doesn't know what he's watching. He barely flinches when his door bursts open, and when Shizuo comes to the couch to hover over him, he keeps his eyes trained on the TV screen.

“Simon said to give this to you,” Shizuo says, putting a bag next to Izaya. “He said it's your favorite.”

Izaya doesn't look at him. Shizuo growls and kicks at the couch.

“Oi, did you hear me? Are you deaf now, flea?”

“I don't want you here,” Izaya says irritably. He sniffs and pulls his blanket up higher, hiding more of his face.

“Tough shit, I don't care what you want.” Shizuo crosses his arms and stands there. “You think you deserve peace and quiet when you never give me the same courtesy? Fuck you.”

“Then do what you want, just shut up.”

Shizuo scrutinzies him, taps his foot on the floor. “What's wrong with you? You look worse than usual.”

“The urns are here,” Izaya says, motioning to the counter. He put them right next to the broken glass he's yet to clean. “Told you they'd liven things up.”

Shizuo hesitates a moment before he sits next to Izaya, closer than he did the day before. Izaya tosses the remote at Shizuo, who catches it and flips through the channels before settling on some cheesy movie. Neither of them speaks for a long time, and it's Izaya who eventually breaks the silence.

“I didn't look in their coffins.”

“Huh?” Shizuo glances at him.

“I didn't want to see their bodies. I didn't want to remember them that way.” Izaya rolls to his back, and he watches Shizuo's face. “I'm actually a coward, you know?”

“I wouldn't have wanted to look either,” Shizuo says.

“Mm. I wish I had've.”

Shizuo keeps staring at him, a frown on his face, and Izaya laughs softly, shaking his head.

“I'm just not really convinced they're actually dead.”

“Flea.” Shizuo sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair. “They are. They're...gone. Don't do this to yourself.”

“Then tell me why those urns are empty.”

#telescope now #Shizaya #halloween fic #drinking #ghosts #head injury #trippy #2 chapters left! :)#>>>>>:)

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johannstutt413 · 4 years

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(requested by anonymous)

“Sir SilverAsh?” Siege, hammer slung on her back, approached the CEO before they departed. “I’ve been assigned as your bodyguard for this assignment. Doctor’s orders.”

“Hmm...I didn’t request a Rhodes Island detail.” His eyes narrowed slightly.

She shrugged. “I saw the tasker and volunteered to fill it; why he sent it out is another matter.”

“Understandable.” He gave her elevator eyes, only to realize she’d given him the same. “Sizing up your ward?”

“More or less. I agree it doesn’t make much sense for the Truesilver Slasher to have a guard, but my hammer’s getting restless, so I am as well. Hopefully there’s enough action for all of us.”

SilverAsh smirked. “This is a business contract, so I don’t expect it’s likely to come to blows in that fashion, but I’ve certainly spilled more blood at less promising venues before.”

“Less promising?” Siege crossed her arms. “As in more peaceful?”

“More docile; none of these companies are truly peaceful, as I’m sure you’ve seen here at RI. Business is ruthless, and those at the top are absolute monsters...Hence my swordsmanship.”

She nodded. “Then let’s hope the monsters put up a decent fight.”

“Certainly.” He thought for a moment before extending his hand. “Enciodes SilverAsh, Chief of the Silverashes.”

“Verna, leader of Glasgow.” She shook his hand with near equal grip strength to his, despite the notable size difference. Encio took note of it, but not too seriously. After all, if the Doctor was going to send someone, it had to be someone Encio himself would have more trouble dealing with than it was worth...The fact that she was rather attractive only helped ensure that.

After taking a moment to decide which of them would enter their transport first (Encio, they determined after a bit of posturing), they set off for their destination: a merger negotiation with a small firm out of Victoria. Upon realizing where this meeting was being held, it clicked with Siege why the Doctor wanted to send her with SilverAsh...and also the reasons he should have sent someone, anyone else from Victoria besides Indra in her stead.

Those guarding the entrance to Victoria were particularly interesting in her presence in the three-vehicle procession. “Ey, wuddja lookee ‘ere! Glasgow’s finest, in the flesh! We’ve been waitin’ for you lot to come back-”

“I think you’ll find you’re mistaken,” Encio asserted. “This is Operator Siege of Rhodes Island, not whoever you’re talking about. Are you done making your false accusations and unnecessarily rifling through our papers?”

“...You don’t wonna mess with us, guv’na.”

His sword began to glow. “Likewise, gutter-lover.”

“Well that’s a new ‘un, itn’t it?” The copper drew his baton. “You wonna take a tumble, you bloody-”

“Sir SilverAsh has business in the city. This man could buy your entire precinct tomorrow; do you want to start a fight with your future boss while he isn’t concerned with your future in his company?”

Verna’s interruption gave both parties pause. Eventually, the border cops shrugged. “Eh, itn’t worth it. Let ‘em thru!”

“Thank you, Verna,” Encio said once they were out of earshot. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to deal with authorities as well as management, but it’s always better to avoid needless bloodshed.”

“Of course, Sir SilverAsh.”

He smiled. “Please, Encio’s more than fine.”

“After our business here, certainly, we shall be on first-name terms,” she replied, “but while we’re here, I’ll be playing a role to keep my identity under wraps.”

“As you wish.”

Siege shook her head. “I would recommend not holding future meetings in Londinium, whenever you can avoid it. Its residents, as a whole, leave something to be desired regarding their conduct.”

“Oh, really?” Encio leaned back in his seat. “Criminals?”

“Idealists.”

He blinked. “Idealists? Is there a rebellion fomenting here?”

“There’s a rebellion happening here.” She slipped a lollipop into her mouth. “Gangs rule the streets, whatever the authorities say. Glasgow used to hold territory here, but since we left for Rhodes Island, I doubt the others haven’t filled in the gap we left.”

“I see. Thank you for being candid with me, Ver- Siege.”

She nodded. “However I can be of service, sir.”

“Yes...” He looked out his window, mostly to keep himself from staring at her. “I’ll be taking you up on that, I’m sure.”

“Please do; I don’t make such offers lightly.”

As they arrived at the compound where they were meeting, it became clear they were not the first ones there...and judging by the bodies outside, they weren’t the only ones prepared for violence. Their team - SilverAsh and Siege, as well as Courier, Matterhorn, and a few others from the Silverash private military and the Karlan Trade Company, Ltd. - entered the premises after Siege busted through the thoroughly-locked door; she led the charge, bashing through the sturdiest of competition (specifically barriers to forward motion, like closed doors and inconvenient walls) while the rest cleaned up behind her...Until, that is, they reached the board room, where a single shot to her flank left her in need of medical attention. Those inside realized they’d shot one of their rescuers, however, as their future business partner entered the room.

As his medic stabilized Verna, Encio turned to the board of directors he was scheduled to meet with. “Which one of you shot her?”

“I did,” the company head admitted. “We didn’t realize she was one of yours-”

“Clearly. Your company’s assets will be subsumed within the week; use that time to prepare for interviews with my staffers.”

There was a commotion among the group, with one speaking towards SilverAsh. “Sir, we’ve been heading this company for some time-”

“And you expect some special privilege for that?” His sword was glowing inside its hilt. “You’re lucky you have this chance at all.”

“This is a hostile takeover! We won’t stand for this!”

Encio smiled as he drew his blade. “You won’t be standing at all, then.” One stroke, and the entire board, save one particularly meek individual, found themselves dead.

“...Thank you for sparing me, Sir.” The survivor kicked the corpse of the chairman out of his seat and sat down. “I’ll have an inventory of our assets ready when I have my interview.”

“See to it that it’s a complete one. I’m giving you another chance because you clearly aren’t from the same cloth as the others; prove me right.”

He stood and bowed. “Of course, sir...Is she going to be alright?”

“Morphine, status?” The Perro medic gave him a thumbs-up. “And with that, our transaction is complete. We’ll take you to a safer location, assuming you have digital access to your records?”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”

Encio nodded, his eyes focused on Siege. “Come along, then. Is she stable enough to move?”

“Definitely,” Morphine confirmed. “The bolt itself mostly struck her intestines, so the regen work was fairly straightforward. She’ll want a work day of bedrest to make sure it holds and nothing leaks, but knowing her record, she’ll be right as rain not too long from now.”

“Good...Matterhorn, carry her to the car, please.”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Set her next to me once we’re in the car.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not leaving anything to chance...”

The trip back to their caravan was straightforward; however, Encio requested they take a different, more elaborate route out of Victoria in order to avoid further skirmishes. Verna was asleep for the next few hours, SilverAsh holding her so that the occasional roughness of the roads didn’t aggravate her injury. Upon reaching their first stop, she began to stir.

“...Sir Silverash...have we left Victoria?” Her voice was quiet, but not necessarily soft.

“We have, Verna.” He helped her sit up next to him. “You don’t feel like your organs are about to spill out, do you?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “Should I?”

“They nearly did. My medic took care of it, but-” Before continuing that sentence, he thought better of it.

“But?” When he replied with silence, Verna sighed. “How did the deal go?”

Encio gestured to the new former CEO. “Our takeover was swift and efficient. He’ll handle their documents, and if he does well enough, we’ll find a place for him in the company.”

“...And what happened to the others?”

“Their chairman shot you, and everyone but him showed no visible reaction.” His face hardened. “That was simply unforgivable.”

She cocked her head. “Not to imply a lapse in judgment, but was that strictly necessary?”

“No, it wasn’t, but I got very little blood on my sword before that point, and their injuring you infuriated me immensely.”

“I see.” Verna mused over this for a moment. “Why?”

He shrugged. “You’re one of my people, and I don’t take that lightly.”

“That didn’t take very long. Any particular reason you decided this so quickly?”

“Well...you might look at it as an investment.” Encio smiled at her. “An investment in the future.”

She nodded. “So you’re thinking of your succession, then?”

“...Not just that-”

“I’m familiar with the concept, Encio.” Verna smiled back at him. “So long as you realize I don’t plan on leaving the battlefield and respect that appropriately, I’d be willing to give you an heir...or several.”

He blinked once, twice, thrice, before replying. “You’ve just made my life so much less complicated.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that. My past comes with some heavy baggage.”

“I’m no stranger to heavy loads, Verna.” He put an arm, and some of his greatcoat, around her shoulders. “And with one of my more pressing concerns dealt with, I’ve got strength to spare.”

She set her head against his side. “You have a very nice coat.”

“If you’d like, I can have one like it made for you.”

“No, that’s fine.” She realized she was purring, but honestly, she’d just secured her own bloodline as well and was basking in the moment, and Encio would be hearing far more than just her purring. “We can share this one.”

#arknights #silverash (arknights)#siege (arknights)#i've claimed siege is noble before #so i wouldn't be surprised if she wanted an heir #i mean even if she's not actually royalty #she might just want a pride of her own #and with silverash's own need for a successor #it kind of works #they're also both powerful warriors #so it makes sense #this is way too many tags #arknights fic

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johaerys-writes · 3 years

Text

Playground Love, Chapter 10: Wilted Wildflowers

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Aran Trevelyan/Tristan Trevelyan

Summary:

Aran and Tristan are childhood friends. Best friends. Brothers, almost. They’ve been inseparable since the moment they met, one rainy autumn day underneath the maple tree in the school playground.

Best friends don’t fall in love with each other. Surely not.

The new chapter of mine and @oftachancer’s collaborative fic, featuring her OC Aran and my OC Tristan is up! Where being in love with your best friend turns out to be more complicated than initially thought, and Tristan would very much like to make sense of it all now, please.