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#it sucked so fucking much is basically what I’m tryin to say
bitches-who-write · 3 years
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Bower's Gang Babysitting Readers Siblings Overnight
Warnings: Only swearing, nothing else.
You really..really didn’t want to ask the guys to babysit.
But none of your other friends were available and this was an emergency and you couldn’t bring your 2 siblings.
As soon as the guys arrived at your house to hangout, you sprung the news on them and bolted out the door yelling, “Thank You!!” Leaving no room for debate.
They turned around to see a little 5 year old girl sitting on the couch, staring at them in awe.
You would think a little kid would cling onto the friendlier of the guys- Vic or Belch (Reggie).
But instead, she decided to cling onto Henry fucking Bowers~ Who would’ve thought with that warm welcoming face of his??
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The little girl slides off the couch and runs over to Henry, trying to give him a big hug
She hugs at his legs tightly while Henry tense up.
Henry then shakes his leg trying to get her off of him.
You can literally feel the room go silent, the tenison so high you can cut it with a knife.
The silence was only broken due to the 1 year old baby crying upstairs.
Patrick’s face immediately lights up but not in a good way. More like he’s up to something sinister~ “There's a baby!?” He exclaims, *slow scary smirk*
Belch and Vic stop him before he can head for the stairs. “Uh Patrick, maybe we should handle the baby. You two handle the little girl.”
They both head up the stairs leaving Henry and Patrick with the little girl downstairs.
Henry & Patrick:
After a few minutes of the little girl begging to be picked up. Henry caves and picks her up. Holding her from under the arms and further away from him, Henry holds her out towards Patrick.
Patrick is literally staring her down. Examining her face  tentatively. “You look so fucking young and innocent..I fucking hate it kid.”
Cue Belch yelling from upstairs for Patrick to “watch his language”.
The little girl turns her attention back to Henry once again. “Can we play a game?”
He looks at her dead in the eyes and responds with a very cold, “NO”
She goes nose to nose with him and repeatedly says “Let's play a game!!” while trying to hop up and down.
Patrick smirks at Henry, laughing as he watches the ordeal. 
Henry sits her down on the couch and grab her shoulders to keep her still in place. “You want to play a game? Let’s play a fucking game then!”
He tells her to go hide and they’ll come looking for her. As soon as she hides. They both sit back down on the couch and put on the TV.
Not even 5 minutes later she walks out of her hiding spot and approaches them, crossing her arms while pouting.
“You guys fucking suck at this game!”
Henry’s eyes widen in shock while Patrick starts laughing.
Patrick picks her up and sits her between them. Still laughing but puts his arm around her shoulder.
She looks up at the TV confused then towards Patrick, “What are you guys watching?”
Patrick doesn’t look at her, still infatuated with the TV. He responds plainly, “tits”
Henry responds “Don’t worry about it” dryly.
Patrick looks down at her and begins to laugh slightly, adding “You have a few years to go.”
Henry sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose “Jesus Christ.”
She lays her back against Patrick and props her feet up on Henry’s lap.
Henry glares at her while pushing her feet off of him. This starts a vicious cycle of her putting her feet back up, while he pushes them off.
After the fourth time of him shoving her feet off, she looks him dead in the eyes as she puts her feet back on him one last time just out of spite.
Annoyed, Henry picks her up abruptly and takes her to the bathroom “Okay, bath time. Let's get this over with so you can go to bed.”
Henry yells for Patrick to come help.
Patrick shakes his head no. “Nah man, I’m not tryin’ to catch a case.” He says seriously, not even joking around (for once)
Henry rolls his eyes. “Get your fucking ass in here and help me.”
Henry shoves a bottle of shampoo into Patrick’s chest and tells him to wash her hair.
As Patrick is washing her hair, she begins to get antsy, moving around too much.
“Owww, you got soap in my eye!!”. She begins to cry now. Her cries getting louder by the second.
Patrick splashes her in the face and say “If you quit fuckin moving that wouldn’t happen.”
Patrick finishes washing her hair and mumbles under his breath “Ya little fuckin shit.”
Patrick roughly dries her off and shoves her towards Henry. She stumbles forward, grabbing onto his legs for balance.
“You’re putting her to bed. I’m done for the night.” Patrick says as he walks out of the bathroom and back to the living room to return to the TV.
Henry gets her in bed and begins to walk out.
She stops him and asks if he can read her a bedtime story.
He sighs and come up with a very dark/fucked up story to tell her.
She looks up at him, eyes full of fear. Even little tears begin to form.
Henry looks down at her and smiles,  satisfied seeing her scared now.
“Goodnight” he responds condescendingly as  he shuts the door behind him. Not leaving a night light on for her.
Belch & Vic
They both look at each other trying to figure out why the baby is crying.
Belch looks at Vic, “Ever done this before?”
“Nope” Vic responds looking extremely overwhelmed and slightly irritated..
Belch goes to pick up the baby, actually being sure to support the neck/ head
Since Reggie has no experience holding a baby, he’s extremely careful. Basically treating this baby like an egg as if she would break any second.
The baby continues to cry but both guys still haven’t quite figured out why.
“Uhhh maybe she wants food?” Belch suggest
Vic shrugs, “yeah man, good call. So what does she eat..?
Belch looks just as confused as Vic before suggesting, “What if I put a burger in a blender?”
Vic lightens up a bit, “yeah, good source of protein. Ya know, this babysitting shit isn’t so hard after all!”
Belch passes the baby to Vic so he can go blend up that burger, but as they’re passing her, Vic forgets about supporting the head.
Her head just flops (not harmed) but startled so she begins to cry once again.
Belch runs out of the room and to the kitchen, leaving an overwhelmed Vic alone.
Vic starts out with gentle “shhhhs” but gets annoyed when she doesn’t calm down.
“Okay, can’t you just shut the fuck up already” He exclaims as he’s bouncing her.
The repetitive motion of the bouncing makes her puke all over Vic’s arm and shirt.
The moment Belch walks back in, Vic holds her out looking disgusted. “Take it, take it, take it now, Belch.
Belch takes the baby back and attempts to put her down for bed.
Thankfully all the crying earlier tired her out, so she fell right to sleep.
The Next Day -
Y/N calls the Bower’s Gang the next morning to thank them all again for saving your ass but you are slightly irritated at the fact that your 5 year old siblings new favorite word is now “fuck” and “fucking”
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riotwritesthings · 2 years
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Location Matters
WinterIron, E, 2.6k - PWP, semi-public sex, anal fingering, begging, dirty talk, edging, orgasm delay
Ayyy welcome to the first day of Smutober! Yes that’s right, I’m going with Smutober, Kinktober didn’t quite feel right when I’m much more focused on just writing smut than getting through a list of unique kinks. And I’m not following any prompt list at all, just my heart. And I have no idea how many fics I’ll actually be able to get out this month, I have been having a Bad Brain Time, as the kids say, but I’m gonna do what I can and it’s better than nothing right?! Anywho I’m here to break rules and write smut so lets get to it!!
~~~
“Please,” Tony sobs as he arches his back harder, fingers scrabbling at the shelves in front of him and he really can’t bring himself to care about the several packets of pasta that go tumbling to the ground.
Even if he didn’t consider dry pasta a terrible abomination, Tony has way better things to focus on anyways. Like the solid line of heat that is Bucky pressed in close against him, pinning Tony securely between Bucky’s broad chest and the corner of the shelves as two of Bucky’s calloused fingers slowly press into him.
Tony knows they’re being more than a little ridiculous. They are grown adults with their own bedroom, but here they are in the common kitchen of the compound, barely hidden away in the walk-in pantry with Bucky’s hand shoved down his pants like horny teenagers. He can feel Bucky’s cock nudging hard and thick against the back of his thigh and Tony is well on his way to fully hard himself, rocking back against Bucky’s hand and trying to force him to move faster.
“Fuck, I- you- I need—“ Tony gasps out, voice breaking off into a moan when Bucky’s fingers press a little deeper. His grip on the shelves slips again as he can’t decide between turning to face Bucky or just trying to force himself back onto Bucky’s fingers, trying to get more, and Tony ends up just kind of twitching and thrashing in place.
“Patience, baby,” Bucky rumbles, his lips moving over the skin beneath Tony’s ear and that’s probably Tony’s least favorite thing to hear but oh he loves the way Bucky says it, low and rumbling and burning with intensity.
Bucky shifts his wrist a little and it works Tony’s worn pajamas down a little lower past the curve of his ass, but not enough to free his cock from the clinging fabric. When Tony rocks his hips in place, trying get any friction, or Bucky’s fingers pressing into him deeper, or anything, all he gets is the faint drag of soft flannel over his leaking cock. Tony lets out a desperate groan and tries to buck his hips harder, but Bucky just moves with him, not letting Tony have more than the not-enough stretch of two of Bucky’s fingertips barely working him open. Which, after Bucky thoroughly fucked him into the couch earlier today, it’s not nearly enough.
“What do you mean patience, we are in the kitchen,” Tony finally manages to get out, and his voice might be rough and breathy but he still thinks it’s a decent point.
Sure, it was some ungodly hour of the morning when they finished their latest Star Trek binge and first stumbled down here looking for snacks, but Tony has honestly lost track of time entirely at this point. He has no idea how long it’s been since Bucky kicked the pantry door shut behind them and crowded Tony up against the shelves and or all he knows the damn early birds in the house will be along any second, yanking the door open looking for the pancake mix or something and getting a whole-ass eyeful. Literally.
But in the next second all thought is pushed from Tony’s mind when Bucky’s fingers finally press deeper, nudging over his prostate as they twist inside him. Tony had more good points to make, he swears he did, but he forgets all of them as Bucky begins to finger him in earnest, pressing kisses to Tony’s throat and mouthing filthy paise into his skin, bringing Tony right up to the edge with the almost brutal efficiency that he’s basically perfected.
“’S this what you wanted, baby? Want me to really work you open, make you feel it?” Bucky demands roughly, his lips sliding up to Tony’s jaw and all Tony can manage is a shaking whine, trying desperately to shove himself back onto Bucky’s fingers. “Yeah, always take it so fuckin’ sweet, feel so perfect wrapped around me, clenching an’ shakin’, still tryin’ to fuck yourself back on my fingers even when you can’t barely move.”
As if to prove his point Bucky presses Tony in harder against the shelves, pinning him in place as every twist and thrust of Bucky’s fingers set off new shockwaves of pleasure through Tony’s whole body, pushing him higher. Bucky alternates between deep thrusts that make Tony ache for more and relentless jabs to his prostate that are driving Tony out of his mind.
“Please, please,” Tony begs, shaking as Bucky’s fingers stroke over his prostate again, tension winding tighter in his gut and he’s so close. He’s sobbing out every breath as Bucky’s fingers bear down harder and Tony clenches around them, arching back into the pressure as his balls draw up tight and the knot of pleasure inside him twists tighter, tighter—
And then Bucky’s fingers disappear, withdrawing from him entirely and Tony is left dangling right at the edge without anything to push him over, clenching around nothing and feeling so empty. He can’t even rock his hips in place for the light drag of his pajamas over his cock, Bucky’s free hand tight on his hip to hold him in place and it only accentuates the waves of pleasure still sparking along Tony’s nerves, not quite enough.
“What the fuck,” Tony groans, “you hate me, you hate me and you want me to die like this, is that it?!”
“Tha’s what you always say when I try to take my time with you,” Bucky points out with a low, rumbling laugh as he drags his fingers too-lightly over Tony’s loose hole.
“And I’m still convinced it’s true!” Tony replies, his voice caught somewhere between a snap and a whine. He has more to say, but he’s interrupted by Bucky pressing back into him with three fingers this time, stretching him that little bit wider and he’s so loose, so desperate, that there’s not even a burn. All Tony feels is the stretch of it as Bucky’s fingers sink all the way into him, until Tony can feel him everywhere.
Bucky’s fingers thrust in and out of him in an unsteady rhythm, working him up without ever giving him enough to push him to the edge again and Tony buries his face in his folded arms to try and muffle the sob that bursts out of him. His legs are doing nothing to support him at this point, it’s only Bucky’s hand on his hip and Bucky’s chest pressed flush against his shoulder blades and Bucky’s fingers buried deep inside him, holding him up and taking him apart.
He can’t think past the waves of pleasure that rush through him every time Bucky just barely nudges his prostate, the shudders that run through him when Bucky withdraws his fingers just enough to tug at his stretched rim, making sure Tony feels it. And just when Tony thinks the knot in his gut can’t wind any tighter, that he’s about to come with nothing more than the maddeningly inconsistent press and twist of Bucky’s thick fingers inside him, playing with him, the pressure abruptly disappears and leaves him achingly empty.
“Oh, you absolute bastard,” Tony groans, thunking his head against the shelf in front of him and then sucking in a sharp breath when Bucky laughs roughly and drags his fingertips in light circles around Tony’s hole. “Would you just-“ Tony cuts off into a breathy whine when Bucky’s fingers just barely start to press into him again, trying to arch his back harder like he can force Bucky’s fingers back inside him despite the way Bucky has him thoroughly pinned in place, completely helpless as Bucky’s fingers continue dragging wetly around and around his clenching hole, until Tony’s every breath is coming out as a pleading whine.
When Bucky finally pushes his fingers back in he does it slowly, so slowly, making sure Tony can feel every shift and press, working him back right back to the edge with steady, inescapable thrusts of his fingers and then pushing him higher. Until Tony has no idea how he hasn’t already broken and he can’t even try to rock back into it anymore, can’t move, can only take it.
“Fuck, love the way you shake for me,” Bucky growls, all hot breath and teeth against the line of Tony’s throat as he crooks his fingers a little harder, and then has to crowd in against Tony a little more to help keep him upright as Tony’s legs give out entirely.
Tony’s legs might be useless noodles at this point but that doesn’t stop them from shaking with overstimulation, his hips jerking and twitching in place with every deep press of Bucky’s fingers. Tony’s entire body is shaking like he’s been hit with a live wire and he’s crying out every breath, his fingers going numb from how tightly he’s gripping the edge of the shelf.
“Look so fuckin’ good like this, blissed out an’ shaking’ with it, can barely even hold yourself up,” Bucky growls, pressing down harder on Tony’s prostate and Tony’s entire body jolts hard, his hands sliding off the shelf and his bare feet sliding against the floor.
After a second of scrambling Tony manages to cross his arms across the shelf, burying his face against his forearms to try and muffle his wail. Partially because he’s so close and fuck Tony might just die if they get interrupted before Bucky finally lets him cum, if it’s not soon, and also because he doesn’t want to miss the honestly filthy words spilling out of Bucky’s mouth.
“C’mon sugar, wanna feel you come on my fingers,” Bucky says, a low rumbling growl against the curve of Tony’s shoulder, “always clench down so damn tight around me, sound so gorgeous, wanna hear you sobbin’ for me.” He thrusts his fingers in hard again and then twists, stretching Tony’s loose rim a little more and even that is enough to have Tony’s entire body jolting, another ragged cry tearing out of him. “Fuckin’ love this, don’t you baby?” Bucky demands roughly, “bein’ worked open and stuffed full? Pinned and helpless an’ just takin it, lettin’ me play with you however I want until you’re beggin’ for it just- like- this?”
The final couple words are punctuated with a too-brief drag of Bucky’s fingertips over his prostate, sending bolts of pleasure through him that are right on the edge of too-much and god it’s not enough. Tony is only vaguely aware that he’s trying to beg, but keeping track of the broken attempts at words and ragged sounds spilling past his slack lips is far less important than the sensations rushing through him.
Tony would much rather focus on trying to shove himself back to meet the press of Bucky’s fingers, no matter how little he’s actually accomplishing, right up until Bucky presses in impossibly closer and Tony is left completely immobile. Bucky’s metal fingers disappear from his hip to instead tangle in his hair, yanking Tony’s head back with one hard tug and Tony has no hope of muffling or containing the loud cry that escapes him. All he knows is the deep, insistent press of Bucky inside him, the burning pleasure and ache as his spine is pulled into a sharp arch and Bucky’s fingers seem to press impossibly deeper.
“Fuck-“ Tony chokes out, panting brokenly for air and then whining when even that simple motion lights up his entire body, like he’s just one giant struck nerve and his face is wet with sweat or tears or both as he finally manages to gasp out “please—“
“I can feel how fucking close you are, sweet thing, how much you need it,” Bucky says, lips trailing up Tony’s neck and when Tony tries to wiggle in his hold, to rock himself down onto Bucky’s fingers, anything, Bucky’s teeth catch at the corner of his jaw to hold him in place. “Don’t you wanna come for me baby?” Bucky demands once Tony goes relatively still in his hold, hard tremors still running through him as Bucky’s fingers continue to thrust and press and twist inside him. “Don’t you wanna make a fuckin’ mess of yourself for me? Let me watch you wobble back to our room, legs still shaking’ and cum coolin’ on your skin, flushed and dazed and gorgeous, wanna let me lick you clean and put you to bed still sloppy and reekin’ like sex?”
“I- I- ahh—“ Tony wants to say that god does he want that, he’s so close, but every drag of Bucky’s fingers is melting every thought out of his head and Tony is nearly screaming out every exhale and he can’t stop, shaking too hard to properly fuck himself back onto Bucky’s hand and fuck he’s so close—
“C’mon Tony, give it to me,” Bucky snarls, rocking his hips against Tony and circling his fingers hard over Tony’s prostate and that’s it.
Tony’s loud cry cuts off as his voice breaks, and instead he’s left making hoarse, breathy noises as he comes, wave after wave of pleasure rushing over him, dragging him under. He can barely hear anything past his own pulse throbbing in his ears, his orgasm dragging on and on with every relentless shove of Bucky’s fingers still working into him until Tony’s brain finally whites out to the sound of his own hitching, wailing moan.
When Tony zones back in, both of Bucky’s arms are wound around his waist, holding him steady as Tony continues twitching with fading aftershocks. His pants are back in place, although the front of them is indeed a mess of his own cooling cum, and Tony has to forcibly remind himself why just falling asleep right here is a bad idea.
And it’s not because he can feel Bucky’s cock still pressed hard and warm against his hip, no matter how distracting of a realization that is.
“What time is it?” Tony asks roughly, because his mind might be a little (a lot) blown, and he really wants to do something about the way Bucky is rocking minutely against him while he lets Tony catch his breath, but not as much as Tony wants to not get another lecture about public indecency. It always makes him feel a little too much like he’s back in college.
There’s a tellingly long silence before Bucky clears his throat and says, “Uh… we should probably get back to our own room pretty soon.”
The hoarse, gravely sound of Bucky’s voice has heat valiantly trying to swell in Tony’s gut again, but Tony forces himself to focus on arguing “You should probably carry me back to our room, because what even are legs. I don’t think I have them, I certainly cannot feel them.”
Bucky laughs but seems all too happy to oblige in scooping Tony up off the ground, even if it is more in an up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes way than Tony would really prefer. He’s about to complain, but then Bucky’s hand settles over the curve of his ass and Tony decides he can live with it, and at least this will keep the rapidly cooling cum soaked through the front of his pajamas from rubbing against his skin.
It’s not until they’re in the elevator that Tony’s brain comes back online enough for him to remember all of Bucky’s filthy promises, and Tony grins at the small of Bucky’s back as he says, “I guess if you really want I’ll try wobbling around like a drunken baby giraffe when we reach our floor, but frankly I’m more invested in the ‘licking’ part of your plan.”
Bucky hums, equal parts amused and thoughtful, and Tony’s breath catches hard as Bucky shifts his grip a little, his fingers easily dipping between Tony’s cheeks through his thin pajamas.
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DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD Vol.01 Sakamaki Ayato [TRACK 3+4]
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Original title: 吸い殺してやる & 乾いた喉
Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 1: Sakamaki Ayato [CD not owned by me]
Audio: Here
Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru
Translator’s note:
Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10
→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!
TRACK 3: I WILL SUCK YOU DRY
*Cling cling* 
“Now tell me...What did they do to you? Aahn!?”
*Cling*
“Tsk...Ah, haah, haah...This pisses me off! In that case, I’ll just check myself…”
*RIIIIIP*
“Hahaha...I’ll rip off all of your clothes…Ughー!!”
*RIIIIP*
[00:41] “...Haah? What’s the matter? Gettin’ embarrassed' now? Just how many times have I done this sorta thing to you? Get used to it already. Usually I wouldn’t mind that kind of flustered reaction, but right now...I’m not in the mood!!”
*RIIIIP*
*Rustle rustle*
“Come on, gimme a better look...You shouldn’t mind showin’ me everythin’ if you’ve got nothin’ to hide, right?”
*Cling*
“Let’s start with your nape…Come closer!”
You hesitantly scoot closer.
“More!”
*Rustle*
“Exactly. You better behave, ‘kay? ...Or else, you’ll be in a world of trouble.”
*Sniff sniff*
[01:44] “Hahaha...You reek. It’s their scent. The smell of multiple men. I didn’t even need to strip you out of your clothes to check. I knew all along. ...Fuck!!”
*Cling cling*
“Haah, haah...Dammit...My body feels heavy...I haven’t had anythin’ to eat or drink this whole time...So I can’t even find the strength to do anythin’ to you…”
*Rustle*
[02:28] “While I was goin’ through hell and back...You were havin’ the time of your life, weren’t you? Hahaha...What a joke!”
You flinch.
“Aah...I feel like I’m gonna puke...Their stench gets stuck in my nose...Almost as if they’re still closeby... “
You look at him with tears in your eyes.
“Hahaha...Ahahaha! Why are you givin’ me that look? Are you hurt ‘cause I’m appalled by you?”
*Rustle rustle*
[03:12] “Don’t get all teary-eyed…Kuhーー!! Ugh...Haah, haah…!”
*THUD*
“Haah...I can’t believe tryin’ to tease you only makes it harder on myself...I’m disgusted with myself. Lame...Kuh! ...Dammit…! I’m definitely gonna beat those guys to death!”
*Thud*
[03:56] “...What’s wrong, Chichinashi? I don’t have the time to mess with you right now.”
You ask Ayato if he’s okay. 
“Ah? You’re worried? Have you lost it? Maybe you should worry ‘bout yourself instead, huh? If they took a likin’ to you, who knows when they’ll come for you again.”
You reach out for him but he shakes off your hand. 
“...!! Don’t touch me!!”
*Rustle*
[04:29] “Didn’t I just tell you to leave me the fuck alone? ...Shit! I’m hungry right now and extremely irritable. So much so I fear I might just suck you dry, no matter how hard you cry or scream...even if it means flat-out suckin’ you to death. I’m beyond parched. 
Haah, haah, haah...It feels like the inside of my throat might stick together...Since you’re still here... I guess that means you don’t mind things turnin’ out that way if you continue to pay mind to me..”
*Cling*
[05:15] “Although, I want nothin’ to do with you while you reek of those other dudes.”
You give him permission to suck your blood. 
“Hahaha...What do you mean ‘I don’t mind if you kill me’? Don’t play with fire when deep down, you don’t have the balls. ...Kuh! Fuck…I’ve seriously gotten dizzy…Haah, haah…”
*Cling cling*
[05:57] “...! You really never learn, do you? Didn’t you hear me just now? I wouldn’t be able to hold back right now, nor do I have any interest in you right now…!!”
He attempts to push you away.
“...Or do you want to be sucked dry and die maybe…!?”
You insist.
“Aah…? ‘Suck’, you say? ...Chichinashi. ...I’m not jokin’ ‘round right now!!”
You look at him with serious eyes.
[06:32] “...Che. You sure have some nerve...Spoutin’ that nonsense when you have no idea how I feel right now.”
You explain.
“Ah…? You feel bad for me? Your pity won’t work on me. Do you think all it takes is that sweet, meek attitude to wrap me ‘round your finger? ...Fuck! This seriously pisses me off!”
*Thud*
*Rustle rustle*
[07:05] “Don’t...trigger me...Haah, haah...Get out of my sight!! NOW!!”
You shift around on the spot.
“What part of ‘go away’ did you not understand, aah!? You can’t just find some way to get rid of these chains, no!?”
*Cling cling*
[07:31] “In that case, how ‘bout I just chop off your leg?”
Your eyes widen in horror.
“Hahaha…That’d get rid of the shackles. I’d say it’s a much better option than remainin’ locked up down here.”
You protest.
[07:51] “Fuck...That expression...You really don’t understand the danger you’re in, do you? I bet you’re convinced I’d never do such a thing, aren’t you? ...Fine. Seems like persistent hypocrites only learn the hard way. ...You’re spreadin’ this disgustin’ stench all ‘round...I’ve had enough of it.”
*Rustle*
[08:23] “Even though you’re my prey…! ...Now brace yourself!”
*Cling cling*
*Rustle*
“ーー Chichinashi. I’m gonna suck you dry.”
TRACK 4: PARCHED
*Cling cling*
Ayato bites you.
“Mmh...Nn…Hah...Hahn...Mm…”
*Gulp*
[00:19] “Hah...Should I just rip your throat apart with my fangs like this? Hahaha...Hahn...Mmh…”
*Sluuuurp*
“Fuckー ...I can’t get enough...I know I talked shit earlier...But your blood is still hella delicious...Hahn...Mmh…”
*Gulp*
“Hah...Mmh...Nn…”
*Gulp*
“Hahn...Mmh…”
*Gulp*
“Nn…”
*Rustle*
[01:10] “Your blood drives me mad. Hahn…”
*Gulp*
“Nn...Hah…”
*Cling*
“Haah, haah…”
*Rustle*
[01:33] “Fuck…! I’m playin’ straight into their hand...I’m sure they hurt you, ‘cause they predicted I would do this..I realized as soon as I sucked your blood.”
You tilt your head to the side.
“...How can I tell? Beats me. I’m sure they tampered with your body in some way. I bet they did it while pretendin’ to suck your blood. This fuckin’ pisses me of…! So everything’s goin’ exactly accordin’ to their plan, huh? Shit!”
*Cling*
[02:19] “But still...I can’t suppress this thirst...Haah...I need more...More...I haven’t had nearly enough...Give me more and more!”
*Rustle rustle*
“I don’t like how I’m basically dancin’ to their tune...but right now, I could care less ‘bout that. Haah...Haah, haah...Up next...is this place.”
*Rustle*
[02:58] “I’ll suck from your earlobe. Seems like those guys missed this spot. Hahaha…”
Ayato bites you again.
*Sluuuurp*
“Hahn...Mmh...Nn...Hah...I want to just devour you whole...Hahn…”
*Sluuuurp*
“Hahn...Mm…”
*Gulp*
[03:37] “Nn...Hah...Tastes great...When I realize they got to savor this blood as well...It seriously grinds my gears. Like my head’s ‘bout to explode or somethin’...”
*Cling cling*
“Ughー ...Now don’t get the wrong idea, ‘kay? I don’t like havin’ to repeat myself a million times. I have zero interest in you as a person. I just can’t get enough of your blood...That’s all.”
You whimper, completely dazed by the pleasure. 
[04:18] “...What’s wrong? Did it feel that good? You’ve totally got that dumb look on your face. ...Do you want more? Hahaha…”
*Rustle*
“Don’t try and hide it. You should realize that’s pointless already. Haha. Well, I also said a bunch of shit earlier, but I don’t feel satisfied yet, so I’m still gonna suck more of your blood. ...I’m so parched, it’s killin’ me…”
*Cling*
[05:01] “I’ll bite your other ear next.”
He bites your other ear.
“Mmh...Nn…”
*Gulp*
“Hah…”
*Gulp*
*Sluuuurp*
[05:21] “...Hahaha. Look at you twitchin’...What? Do you want more? Don’t get all worked up when I’m only tryin’ to enjoy my meal over here. Hahn…Mmh…”
*Sluuuurp*
“...Hahaha...Aahー Thanks to your blood, I feel somewhat brought back to life. However, I still haven’t had nearly enough…”
*Rustle*
[06:05] “Haah...My body aches even more than usual. What kinda shit did those jerks put inside of you…? Fuck...Oi, Chichinashi! Tell me what they did!”
You go quiet.
“Che. The silent treatment again, huh? Is it somethin’ you can’t say? Hahaha…”
*Cling*
[06:38] “Guess I’ve got no other choice…”
*Rustle*
“In that case...I’ll loosen your tongue this way…”
Ayato kisses you deeply.
“Mm...Nnh…”
*Smooch*
“Mmh…”
*Smooch*
[07:03] “...How’s that? I parted your lips for you, so now you can talk, can’t you? Hurry up and tell me.”
You look up at him. 
“When you look at me with those greedy eyes, your inner desires are clear as day. ...Now tell me, what kind of trap did they put on you? If you won’t, I’ll have to punish you harshly.”
You flinch. 
[07:36] “Hahaha...That terrified expression is pretty sweet, you know?”
*Cling cling*
“You want to know why I’m coiling these chains ‘round your neck? Isn’t that obvious? I’m goin’ to strangle you with these bad boys until you almost suffocate…”
Your eyes widen in horror.
[08:00] “I won’t tighten them all in one go, don’t worry. Instead, I’ll slowly rob you of your oxygen…” 
*Cling cling*
“I need you to tell me how they’re hopin’ to use you to their advantage after all…”
You shake your head.
[08:19] “Haah? You can’t tell me regardless? I see. ...Chichinashi, seems like they’ve captured both your body and soul by havin’ their way with you. That’s why you’re goin’ along with their plan and tempted me into suckin’ your blood, correct? Right!?”
You deny it.
“...I’m wrong? Then tell me! If you lay yourself completely bare and come beggin’ me to suck your blood more, I wouldn’t mind believin’ you.”
You hesitate.
[09:06] “You can’t, can you? You’re the type of chick who is in constant denial of her own inner desires after all.”
You protest.
“Shut up! Cut the crap! ー Also don’t cry! ...It pisses me off. I’m tempted to bite you to shreds right now and throw you out in front of them.”
You sob.
[09:34] “If you cry any more, I’m seriously gonna do it. ...Oi, understood?”
You nod.
“Hahaha...Look who’s being obedient now. You’re scared of these chains, aren’t you?”
*Cling cling*
“...Or is it all just an act, perhaps? Do you think I’d enjoy seein’ you shiver in fear like that and hurt you in return? 
ー You try and reason with him.
[10:05] “Haah…? I’m readin’ too far into it, you say? You really are an idiot, Chichinashi. Even before this whole ordeal, I never trusted you.”
You seem shocked.
“Hahaha...I can’t get enough of seein’ you hurt like that. I think you look the cutest when you make that expression.”
*Rustle rustle*
[10:41] “Human logic doesn’t apply to us Vampires. The fact that you’re gettin’ the wrong idea and lettin’ things get to your head proves that you’re nothin’ but a fool.”
*Cling*
“...Whatever. I rambled on for far too long. I’m thirsty again. My body is like a desert right now. ーー I became parched once more in no time.
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
64 notes · View notes
blackmissfrizzle · 3 years
Text
Chill Out
Characters: Rio x black!reader
Summary: Wine drunk + dancing= a very entertained but annoyed Rio
Warnings: Smut
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEA 💖 @starrynite7114 thank you for being such a great friend. I hope your day is filled with joy 😘 love you, babes! P.S. this was so hard to keep a secret from you lol
I highly recommend listening to these while reading:
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Today you were on a high. You woke up feeling good and the day just kept on getting better. Your friends came over for drinks and gossip. During that time the playlist that was playing in the background had hits after hits, causing y’all to be singing dancing fools.
Eventually, the girls had to leave because it was a school night, but it was perfect timing because as soon as they were leaving Rio came back home.
“You have fun, mama?” He kissed you tasting the wine on your lips. You started getting bolder, nibbling on his lips and neck. Oh, it was about to be one of those nights, Rio thought.
Rio pulled away from you and went to the refrigerator for a water bottle. “Not right now. I wanna watch the game.” He explained, plopping down on the couch.
You tried to hold in your whining. It wasn’t often that Rio got to relax, so left him be. “Do you mind if I play music while I clean up?”
“Nah, you do you. I don’t wanna hear the commentators anyway.”
With his permission you turned the music up. It was a little mix of everything so when Crush started playing you got hyped since you haven’t heard that song in forever.
It's just (aah) a little crush (crush)
Not like I faint every time we touch
It's just (aah) some little thing (crush)
Not like everything I do depends on you
Sha-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la
Rio side-eyed you as you began to sing and dance like every white girl in a 90s movie. “Really? You jamming out to this mess?”
“Rude.” You continued singing and dancing along while you were wiping down the counter. Then the next banger came on and you had to rope Rio in.
Motownphilly's back again
Doin' a little east coast fling
Boyz II Men going off
Not too hard, not too soft
Before you were in the kitchen singing and dancing, but with this new song you migrated to the living room dancing in front of Rio. “What you know about this?” You taunted him while doing the running man.
Rio secretly loved that you were dancing like a fool. You were the sunshine in his gloomy life.
He tried not to crack a smile at your silliness, but he couldn’t help it. “Come here,” he crooked a long finger at you.
Continuing to dance, you shook your head no. He wasn’t about to rain on your parade. “Come here.” Rio repeated with more authority in his voice.
This time you complied and stood between Rio’s legs. Grabbing onto your hips Rio pulled you into his lap. For awhile he massaged your scalp while he just stared at you lovingly.
Rio was the king of building up tension. Usually, you would snap and tell him to hurry up, but that would only make him prolong it. However, you were enjoying it this time. His nose rubbing against yours, his breath tickling your face, his hands running along your body.
Eventually, his lips graced yours. He held your chin as the kiss got a little messier. But as usual it was magical. “I love you,” he smiled at you.
“I love you too.” You kissed him once more before you got up. He smacked your ass as you walked away, enjoying it ripple before he got pulled away by the game. “Be ready as soon as the game is off.”
“Okay, daddy,” you giggled and went off to finish cleaning.
As you continue to clean you continued dancing. During commercial breaks you would dance in front of Rio causing him to roll his eyes like he wasn’t enjoying it. Mostly it was silly dancing, but then the twerk songs started coming on and you couldn’t help yourself.
Damn, I want all three (come here), ooh
Ashley (ayy), ooh, Ashley (ayy)
I get hard when she walk past me (look at that ass)
'Cause she thick (thick)
Thi-thi-thi-thi-thi-thick (thick)
Thi-thi-thi-thi-thi-thick (thick)
Thi-thi-thi-thi-thick, she make me stutter
Thankfully it was a commercial break because Rio probably would’ve pushed you out of the way when you started twerking in his face. Instead he gripped a chunk of ass and told you, “Aye, chill with all that.”
“Oh, so Jake from State Farm is more interesting than me?” Rio didn’t say anything for a bit. He just rubbed his bottom lip while his eyes roamed your body. “Girl, you better move before you have my full attention.”
Rolling your eyes you moved out of the way and grabbed you a glass of wine. Fine, if he didn’t want to play, you’ll have fun on your own.
Two wine glasses later and you didn’t give one fuck. You were all up in Rio’s face rapping along with lyrics about using men. Even though, Rio was mostly expressionless you still caught his little quirks of reactions.
“He always asking do I love him? I always be tellin' him, "Uh-uh" I told him he pushing his luck, he better be happy I fucked him.”
“Watch it,” Rio lowly warned you. As usual you paid him no mind and played the next song.
Got more milkshakes than Kelis
Ain't met a nigga who can handle me
I think I should be in museums (hey hey)
'Cause this body a masterpiece (yeah yeah)
Can I fuck ya to a trap beat? (huh huh huh)
He said girl you tryin' to trap me? (Huh huh huh)
Ah hell nah, nigga no I ain't (what what? Uh)
You can hit that door, here go ahead leave (what what? Uh)
Rio couldn’t focus on the game. Between you twerking and rapping in his face, basically saying ‘fuck him’ had him hard as fuck, but he wasn’t about give into you. However, your determination was stronger than his. The last straw though was when you got on the couch popping over ass cheek at a time while looking at him “innocently.”
I wanna bust it on your face
He wanna see my shit squirt like he squeezed it
He finna die by this pussy, he need it
He wanna keep it like lock it and key it
I tell him to bring me my money then beat it
Give a nigga back to the streets, ayy
Even though the song wasn’t your words, it was still a challenge to him. You were directing all that energy to him and you about to get it back ten-fold.
While you were in Meganland, Rio was able to pull your shorts and panties to the side. He didn’t have the time so he pulled his dick out of his pants.
“Rioooo,” you reached back to grab onto his wrists when you felt him split you open. “Nah, what you running for? Remember you were gonna ‘leave this dick up in a casket’?”
Rio loved this song. The moment when he sees the brattiness dies and you become a compliant whimpering mess. Only he could do this. Only he could make this independent, strong woman weak.
“Come on, baby. I thought you ain’t met anyone who can handle you. This sure looks like I’m handling all this shit.” Rio smacked your ass as he looked at your conjoined bodies.
It was too much and too little at the same time. Rio was giving you those long, slow strokes that had you near the edge, but could never quite push you over.
“Please,” you begged, trying to flatten yourself. “Nah, you gonna take this.” Rio pulled your hips up and got a tight grip on them to make sure you weren’t going anywhere.
“Please let me cum, Rio. I’ll be good. I promise.” Your man chuckled, making you want to cry. He either wasn’t in a forgiving mood or he was gonna make you work for it.
Grabbing you by your chin, Rio turned your face towards him. Instinctively, he stuck some of his fingers in your mouth. “You want cum, huh?”
“Mmmhmm,” you nodded, gently sucking on his fingers.
“Why should I? You wouldn’t let me watch the game.”
“Because I’ll make you feel good, daddy.” Rio smiled at you before he bent down and kissed you while wrapping his arm around your body to start rubbing your clit. “Cum on this dick, bitch.” He whispered into your ear.
Rio sped up his pace a bit and you were going crazy, yelling out his name. “Rio, Rio, tak-, tak-, take me to the room. I’m gonna squirt.”
“So?” His voice was strained letting you know he was close to finishing. “I’m gonna ruin the couch.”
“Fuck this couch. I’ll buy another. Now cum on this dick. I’m trying to finish the game.”
With his permission, you soaked Rio’s clothes and the couch and not too long after you felt his seed coat your walls.
“Shit, I love you,” you smile tiredly as you laid your head against the armrest.
“Uh-huh, get up and take all your clothes off.” Rio pulled out of you and smacked your butt. You were about to object, but when you saw the look on his face, you quickly undressed.
For a moment, Rio forgot what he wanted you to do. Your body always hypnotized him. He just stared at you with his lip tucked in between his teeth. “Come sit on this dick, mama.”
Ugh, he wanted you to ride? You didn’t have the energy for that, but you listened anyway. Facing the tv, you sank down on his dick causing you both to moan in unison.
You began to bounce up and down, but Rio stilled your hips. “Nah, you ain’t gotta do all that.” Thank god, he was gonna do all the work. “You’re gonna sit here and be still while finish watching the game.”
“Huh?” He couldn’t be serious.
“Yeah, you heard me,” Rio closed your dropped jaw. “And if you move I’ll watch the next game even though I don’t give a fuck about that team.”
Rio didn’t give you a chance to object. He turned on the tv and ignored. Guess you should’ve chilled out earlier.
Tagging: @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @starrynite7114 @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @richonne4life @readsalot73 @chaneajoyyy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jassydwill11 @otomefromtheheart @miss-nori85 @xsweetdellzx @cherryblossomgirl20 @cocogodess15 @suburbanblackhoe @jad3djay @my-rosegold-soul @brattyfics @theartisticqueen @sesamepancakes
1K notes · View notes
shyneanon · 3 years
Note
There is only one bed with red
I bet you thought I was never gonna respond to this one, huh, anon? Nope! I just had to rewrite it like five million times before I felt like it was actually not terrible. lol
Hope you enjoy this even though it’s been foreeeeeever.
---
“Well. Lookit that.”
You stared at the single available bed in the single available room, pretty immaculately kept.
“There’s only one bed,” said Red, leaning against the wall. “How unfortunate.”
You stared at it for a while, then looked back at him. He was flashing his gold tooth at you in a smug grin.
Nope.
“It’s fine,” you said. “I can sleep on the floor.”
His smile vanished.
“Hey,” he said, “hold on, sweetheart. I c’n sleep on the floor.”
Actually kind of nice of him to offer, but as much as he annoyed you… no. “It’s cool, I can do it.”
“Nah, it’s gonna make me feel like trash if I letcha sleep on the floor.”
“Well, ditto.”
He grinned. “Ooh, I gotta solution. How ‘bout we both sleep on the floor?”
You held in a laugh, trying your best to give him a deadpan look. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh….
He waggled his brows at you.
And you let out a snort.
You started to set your things down and move onto the floor but Red shoved you towards the bed. “No,” he said, “I don’ wanna feel like an asshole.”
“You are an asshole,” you said.
“Sure but I don’ wanna feel like one…!”
“OK,” you said, “fine.” Whatever, his loss. You climbed into the bed and got under the covers, and you turned a bit as Red lay down on the floor.
… Dammit.
You sighed. I’m going to regret this.
“Red,” you said.
He turned with an oddly soft smile. “Yeah, beautiful?”
Your face turned warm. His nicknames are more effective than they should be. “Just get in the stupid bed.”
“Oh?” A brow rose, and the soft smile was gone. “Feeling bonely?”
“Don’t,” you said, moving over. “You just look so pathetic on the floor, I can’t do it.”
“Sure, sure.” He moved the covers aside and slid under them with you. “You tell yerself that.”
“I will shove you back onto the floor, Red.”
He shut his mouth (figuratively speaking), and you shut your eyes. He was surprisingly warm for a skeleton, perhaps due to wearing a jacket all day. Since he didn’t have the jacket on, though, you were far more aware of the fact that he was literally just… bone. You could feel his actual spine… It was kind of weird, but not weird enough to keep you up. You were just glad he wasn’t getting handsy. Though the truth was that him getting touchy hadn’t been your main concern. In reality, you tried to avoid having to share a bed with anyone. There was a, um, bad habit of yours that people had informed you of.
But hopefully you wouldn’t do anything crazy tonight.
---
Red was awoken by the feeling of something lying across his whole body.
What the hell?
He was on his side, and he attempted to push it off, but it didn’t budge. Groggy and annoyed, he awkwardly twisted and wriggled until he was on his back and could see what the fuck it was….
It was you.
He squinted, thinking he might be insane, but yeah. It was you. You were lying on top of him. A bit awkwardly, one of your legs was pointing in the direction of your side of the bed, but your head was where the crook of his neck would be, and you were breathing softly.
Red’s face lit on fire instantly.
“Sweetheart?” he mumbled, even though he was pretty sure you couldn’t hear him. When had this happened? Had it happened in your sleep? Had you done this on purpose?
You sighed in your sleep.
Oh… oh my God.
What if she likes me?
Had you instinctively cuddled up to him in your sleep because you… liked him? Or… maybe you liked his smell, or the way lying on him felt… Red was a bit embarrassed to find that he felt giddy, but the giddiness overrode the embarrassment.
“Sweetheart,” he repeated softly, gently wrapping his arms around you. You snuggled closer and he felt his soul start to hum.
We’re… so close….
She’s so cute when she’s asleep….
“You are the most adorable thing,” he said. He knew you couldn’t hear. That was the nice part; he could say whatever he wanted. He started to readjust your stray leg with his own, and his face warmed up even more when you curled your leg around his. He let out a small sound of surprise.
“Baby, you’re uncooperative…. Hah….”
Not that he, uh, minded… having your legs like this….
“Aren’t you just the sweetest,” he purred, pulling you closer. His soul was picking up. While you were asleep he felt no need to maintain his tough guy persona, so he cooed. “Yer cute as hell.”
He nuzzled you, holding you close.
He never wanted to let go….
“Don’t worry,” he said softly, lifting one finger and stroking your cheek. “I’ll keep you safe.” He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling washing over his soul while the two of you were so near each other. “Jus’ stay right here… with me, yeah?”
One hand tangled in your hair and he sighed. It was so soft…. You moved closer to him, making a soft hum, and Red’s grin widened, his soul melting into a puddle.
This was the best night of his life.
When your mind started to barely lift out of its unconscious state, the first thing you noticed was that it did not feel like you were lying on the mattress.
The second thing you noticed was that a pair of arms were around you. What the… Red? Why was he…
Oh. Oh no.
I climbed on him in my sleep, didn’t I?
It was a weird habit you’d never would’ve known about were it not for the unlucky victims who had told you about it. You had never woken up on top of someone before— you always woke up next to the person in the morning, in the same spot where you’d fallen asleep, and then they would tell you about how they’d woken up in the dead of night to find your entire body lying on top of them. It also apparently took a lot of effort to push you off, especially since attempts would usually result in you immediately trying to climb back onto them.
Red, uh, didn’t seem to be making any attempts to push you off, though.
“Hah, sweetie… You look so stupid when yer asleep….”
Did he know you were awake? Judging from his low volume, you were pretty sure that no, he didn’t.
His finger wiped the side of your mouth and then immediately withdrew, and you heard him laughing as quietly as possible. Yep, he was trying not to wake you up.
“Gross!” he whispered, and you heard the sound of his hand brushing against the fabric of, presumably, his clothes. “You drool in your sleep!”
More quiet laughter. If you blushed visibly you’d give yourself away, so you just buried your face in his collarbone. Embarrassing.
“... Ah… doll….”
A hand was gently placed on your back.
“I wish we could do this all the time,” he said softly. If he thought you were asleep he wasn’t saying this to flirt with you.
He meant it, then?
“Why’ve you gotta be so damn adorable, huh? M… My soul’s going crazy over here….”
A hand ran through your hair. He was being unusually gentle….
“Then again, that happens a lot when I’m with you.”
Your face got hotter; thank goodness he couldn’t see it from this angle.
His teeth pressed against your forehead. A kiss?
“I wish… I had the guts tah tell ya how I feel.”
Huh? Not… not like… romantically, right?
“You make me feel amazing. Like… really amazing, I… I dunno how t’put it in words cuz I’m real bad with words. S’why I can’ bring myself to tell you, I wanna tell you but every time I open my goddamn mouth all I say is somethin’ suggestive.”
Some silence. Should you tell him that you were awake? You were basically eavesdropping right now.
But at the same time…
“‘N, admittedly… I wish I was good fer you. Which I’m not, I’m… I’m fuckin’ me.”
Why did your heart suddenly ache?
“I’m lazy, I’m sleazy, I dress stupid, I act stupid, I can’t communicate like an adult to save my damn life…. An’ I… I’ve done a lotta bad things. Y… ya should get with some sweet guy who’s responsible ‘n shit.” He muttered: “Lookit me, fuckin’ swearing while I’m tryna talk about my feeli— Fantastic, I did it twice.”
It took all the effort you had to not giggle.
“I wish I was good for you. Ah, sweetie, I’d… I’d take such good care of you, I really would. Or, I’d try. Tryin’ is… really all I could do, t’be honest.”
Trying is all anyone can do.
“... Too bad I suck, yeah?”
Your heart ached again. Red didn’t suck, he was a good guy…. It was probably best to tell him that you were awake before he spilled any more personal information.
“You don’t suck,” you mumbled, turning your head.
“‘M sorry, dollface, did I wake you up with my rambling? I’ll be quiet.”
“No, I’ve been awake for a while.”
His whole body froze up.
“... Ya have?”
“Yeah.”
“H… How much of what I was just saying did you—“
“All of it.”
There was a long, awkward silence.
“I’m sorry,” you said, “I should’ve said something—“
“Fuck,” he said, and you lifted your head. His eye sockets were squeezed shut.
“No, Red, it’s OK—“
“No it’s not, I’ve been makin’ a sappy ass outta myself an’ now I prob’ly made you feel guilty—“
“You didn’t make me feel guilty—“
“Jus’ please don’t say that we should go on a date cuz I know you’re only doing it to make me feel better ‘bout myself—“
“Shut up, Red.”
His eye sockets opened and he looked down at you. You could see the two red lights standing out in the darkness. “... Huh?”
“Stop wallowing in self-hatred and listen to me.”
He said nothing. You would take that as cooperation.
OK, he was listening. So, uh… what should you say?
You actually didn’t know.
So you just kissed him.
Initially he just froze up, but after a moment his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you close, kissing back. W… Wow, this feels really good…. You moved into a better position and felt your hair spill down onto him.
“Sorry,” you said as the kiss parted.
“Sorry?” Red cupped the back of your head and gave you a second fervent kiss. “What the hell for? Ya just kissed me.”
“My hair is kinda touching you.”
“Oh no,” he said in monotone, “how awful. Kiss ruined.”
You snickered and leaned down to press your forehead against his. He looked up at you with fuzzy eyelights.
“I don’ deserve your love,” he said quietly. You smiled back.
“Nobody deserves love, Sans. That’s why it’s so special when someone loves us anyway.”
“You deserve love,” he said, “from somebody better than me.”
“That’s awfully vague.” You kissed his cheek. “And besides, I don’t want love from this person you call ‘somebody better than me.’”
He smiled.
“I want love from you.”
“Hah,” he said, and you saw his eyelights change… They were like hearts now. “Sweetheart, trust me, you already have all my love.”
Your face heated up. “That’s really romantic,” you told him.
“... It is?”
A giggle escaped you. “Yes, Sans.”
You kissed his nasal ridge.
“So?” you said with a smile. “You gonna ask me out or not?”
His eyelights got fuzzy again. “Ya think maybe we could go out sometime, beautiful?”
After kissing his cheek, you said, “I’d love that.”
“So, uh…” He looked at the way you two were positioned. “You think… we could do this more?”
“Absolutely.”
You lay your head down on his ribcage.
“We should fall back asleep,” you told him.
“Sure thing, angel.”
Drifting off took no time at all.
287 notes · View notes
cherryyharryy · 3 years
Note
this request went above the character limit so basically the one with 🌸 is the continuation.. my request is basically an angst to fluff where y/n and harry are together the fans know it’s not confirmed but everyone knows they’re together and she’s been getting lots of hate recently and she’s frustrated and upset harry won’t defend her and she’s pestering him why in a fight and he says something along the lines of “ i don’t want people to know i’m with you” meaning he’s scared if he confirms...
don’t from the one ending in confirms .. he’s basically scared if he confirms y/n is his gf the hate will get worse but she takes it to mean he’s embarrassed by her and essentially gives him an ultimatum kinda ( idk a better word than that) of either he sticks up for her and tells them to stop hating on her or she’s breaking up with him bc she can’t be with someone who can’t bother defending her
*****
Thank you! I liked this idea, but I still feel like I suck at fluff lol. But I hope it’s okay
WC: 1.4K
*******
The starchy scent of cigarettes replaces the bite of pasta you slip into your mouth. You choke down the food and subtly cover your nose, although it does no good.
“Okay?” Harry squints across the table, the spring air catching on a few curls laced together across his forehead.
You nod, but roll your eyes, angling your head to the man sitting not far enough, with a coffee and ultra lights. His face is hidden by a newspaper when you turn to catch a look, smoke escaping from behind. “I can taste it.”
“Yeah that’s kinda rude.”
You wait a moment before speaking. “Yes. It is.”
When you look again, a plump, hairy arm extends across the table to dig the bud into a tea plate. You let your irritation slip away and continue eating, only to double up on your anger when you hear the flick of a lighter once again.
“I’m gonna ask him to stop.”
“Wait.” Harry catches your hand before you stand up. “We can just go inside.”
“What? No, we shouldn’t have to move because he’s being inconsiderate.”
“We’re outside, love, not much anyone can tell him.”
“I can tell him to stop being an ass.” You push away from the table, but Harry grabs your wrist. 
“Baby, please, just let it go. Don’t start a scene.”
“A scene?” You settle back into your chair. “Are you kidding?”
“What?”
You suck in a breath, regretfully, as it’s filled with smoke. “Do you have any idea how many times you’ve said something like that to me in the past month?”
“I just don’t want you to draw unwanted attention to yourself.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. The tips of his ears are red, he’s clearly uncomfortable, but you’re in no mood to let him off. “Don’t want you to have to deal with it.”
“Is that so?”
He nods, unsure if answering you is what you even want.
“I’ve had to deal with a lot of shit,” you lower your voice and lean over the table, “and no one even knows for sure that we’re dating.”
“Shhhh.” You see his brows dip down below his sunglasses, frowning behind the tinted frames. 
“Oh I’m sorry. Forgot how to act for a minute. Y’know, maybe you should write up a list of rules you want me to follow so I know how to behave.” 
You don’t wait for a reply, successfully leaving the table this time as you march off the patio and towards Harry’s car parked down the block. In an alley. Where the two of you waited until foot traffic died down before going to lunch thirty minutes ago. 
The door’s locked so you lean against it, shuffling your feet so you’re not in the sun, or in sight of any passersby. 
The car beeps before you see Harry round the corner. His head is down until you’re both inside, turning the air on and pulling out onto the street without a word. Until he can’t take it anymore.
“Listen, I know I make things harder, but it’s only for security.”
“Security of what exactly?”
“Us…”
“I’m not sure what security you’re referring to, because I’ve gotten more death threats in the past two weeks than I would have liked.” You roll your head to look at him, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. 
“Know that.” He grips the wheel and exhales through clenched teeth. “But it could be worse.”
“I doubt that.” You pull up instagram and scroll through some of the latest comments you’ve gotten, looking for one in particular. Clearing your throat, you recite the message. “I don’t know why you bother with him. It’s sad, how clingy you are and obviously using him. How does it feel to have a dollar sign as a boyfriend? Pathetic. Use that car he gave you to do something useful and run yourself over.”
“Baby, please stop—”
“No, Harry, you have no idea what kind of fucked up things are sent to me. And we haven’t even confirmed anything!”
“I do know! You think I haven’t gotten shitty messages? Like I haven’t been through all this before?”
“Then what’s the point! Why even bother hiding our relationship if none of this goes away? It really hurts when you don’t at least stick up for me when someone makes a snarky comment when we’re in public. Girlfriend or not, I’m a human being, and you just let everything slide so we don’t cause a damn scene.”
“I do too stick up for you!”
“No you don’t! You just suggest we leave. One time you walked away and left me in the middle of a store.”
“I just don’t want people to know we’re together!”
Silence.
Not another word, not another sound until the gate to Harry’s private property screeches open and he pulls up to his house. You’re out of the car before it’s even parked, storming inside with no plan other than to get away from him before you say something you’ll regret.
He calls after you, your name echoing through his huge house, as you make your way up a set of stairs and into a guest room. You slam the door and fling yourself onto the bed, finally letting the tears fall.
He knocks at the door but doesn't wait for your answer, barging in with one last cry of your name. He deflates upon seeing you, crumbles upon hearing your sobs. “Baby.” His hand settles between your shoulder blades as he leans down to brush your hair from your face. “I didn’t mean it like that. Not like it sounds.”
“What the hell could you have meant?” Your words are choppy and tight, catching in your throat before you force them out. “If you’re not gonna defend me, then I can’t have this. Us. I’m not gonna be with someone who cares more about protecting the feelings of complete strangers than his own girlfriend.”
“I do care about you—”
“Like hell you do. That’s why you buy me all kinds of stuff. Make me over so I’m presentable. If you’re that embarrassed to be with me, why would you even ask me out?” A sob takes over. Harry tries rubbing your back, but you shake him off. 
“What—embarrassed? The last thing I am is embarrassed. I’m proud to be with you. I love you, and I only buy you stuff because I can afford to do so.” You turn to face him, your vision blurred with tears. “Then why can’t you stick up for me? I’m not asking you to fight with everyone who leaves a negative comment, but something, Harry. I need someone who’s on my team.”
His voice stutters. Similar words he’s used before, referring to the two of you as a team, strike a nerve. He blinks away a few tears of his own. “You’re right. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry I’ve been letting you down.”
You shuffle up on your knees, encouraging him to join you on the bed, and in a hug. “You’ve never let me down. We just haven’t been on the same page with all this.” You sigh, wiping away a few remaining tears. “I understand why you haven’t wanted to say anything, but I think we’re past the point of keeping us a secret.”
“Was tryin’ to hold onto that as long as I could.”
You both climb off the bed, and Harry takes your hand, pulling you into his chest. 
“We can have privacy without secrecy.”
He kisses your head. “May not be as private as you think.”
“I know…” You step back to look up at him, letting your hands slip down his arms to rest in his palms. “But it’ll take a little pressure off.”
His brows raise in thought, and he drops your hand to pull his phone from his jacket. Without a word, he scrolls through his photos until he finds one he likes, holding it up for you to see. “My favorite.”
Next thing you know, he’s posting the picture of you two from a few weeks ago—when you’d gone out to dinner with Jeff and Glenne, all dressed up with less than sober smiles on your faces—to Instagram.
“It feels weird now,” you mumble.
“Don’t tell me you change your mind?” Harry chuckles.
“No, no—I’m happy. Proud to call you mine.”
“Never gonna let you feel like I don’t have your back,” he leans down to kiss your nose, “ever. Promise.” 
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og-danny-dorito · 3 years
Text
[ Favorite BNHA Boys’ Reactions To You Holding Their Face ]
if you’re on bnha/jojo simptok you know EXACTLY where i got this idea from
𝕓𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕘𝕠 𝕜𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚 :
➢ lMAO the first time you touch his face he is SCREAMING KDJFNSKJ-
➢ it’s mostly because he didn't get a warning first of all, and second of all he doesn't really like people touching his face in general anyway so like obviously he’s not for it the first time
➢ if you ask really nicely or try to offer some sort of repayment for it (an example being to do the dishes when it’s his turn if you’re living together or to pay for dinner next time you go out if you’re not) he’ll consider it though, and will begrudgingly comply to your wishes
➢ but, fortunately for you, he ends up liking it a biiiiit more than he thought he would to say the least 😂
➢ as soon as he looks you dead in the eye and says “just get it over with”, your hands are on his face. to his surprise though, he ends up being a little bit less annoyed by it and more... soothed
➢ the feeling of your hands on his cheeks, gently circling your thumb over the softer areas of his skin, the tension in his jaw melts away. his shoulders feel less rigid. his muscles less sore. it’s sort of a subconscious reaction by that point, but regardless of how much his body is telling him that he likes the contact, he’s still going to deny the red that comes up to his cheeks and spreads over his face like wildfire
➢ “No, I’m not blushing- what do you think I am? I’m not soft or anything like that... NO STOP DON’T HUG ME-”
➢ definitely the type to deny that he likes it like the tsundere he is, but gets a little bit pouty when you do take your hands away. won’t ask for affection but definitely gives you subconscious signs that he wants to be Held™
𝕒𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕒 :
➢ the best way to get his attention actually!!!
➢ you see, this walking personification of sleep deprivation is almost CONSISTENTLY wrapped up in his work one way or the other, whether it be subconscious or upfront
➢ he really does try his hardest to not be so focused on work all the time, but he gets consumed by it really easily since he’s a workaholic and runs on the adrenaline of getting as much paperwork done in one night
➢ it’s not uncommon for him to loose focus of the things around him, but having you there with him is good at grounding him so he doesn't start to stress over small details and stuff like that
➢ usually when you walk up and frame your hands around his face, he’s a little bit surprised at first and doesn't know how to react since he doesn't receive such intimate affection (and never really has). he gets used to it eventually though, and it becomes sort of a subconscious habit to just lean into your touch and smile a little bit at you
➢ will occasionally give you a lingering kiss on your palm when you do it, looking into your eyes in a way that makes your stomach feel full of butterflies
➢ probably says something like “What is it, kitten?” or “Hey.” while grasping your hand in his
➢ warning!!! this WILL lead to a cuddle session that you wont be able to get out of. be prepared to be smushed between aizawa and all 3 of his big ol fat cats for the rest of the day/night if neither of you have anything to do
𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕠 𝕥𝕠𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕦 :
➢ YES okay LOOK i fucking love all of the soft shit that ya’ll come up with about my boy Fatgum here and i’m here to fucking contribute because i love him 😤
➢ to fully understand his reaction, you must first know that this man is an absolute sucker fo any kind of affection you give him regardless of the context
➢ he dishes out enough affection to keep you assured that he loves and appreciates you in every way, which will almost always comes with some of the sweetest compliments imaginable
➢ he knows exactly how to make you feel loved since he likes having the same kind of thing done to him, and so when you return it he’s over the moon
➢ it doesn't even catch him off guard when you do it to be honest. he just sweeps you up in his arms and spins you around, telling you how cute you are and how much he loves you. if not that then he nuzzles into your hand and grins, his whole face lighting up at the sensations of warmth radiating between such a small contact area
➢ he’s another one that immediately wants to cuddle after and probably cancels his other plans so he can spend time with you. he’s just SOMFT for the face holding p l s,,, do i t
➢ says somethin along the lines of “I love you, honey bun!” or “You’re so sweet!” cause he LOVES you and i’ll be damned if this man doesn't use food-related nicknames with his lover
➢ 10/10 will do the same to you if permissible and DEFINITELY will find other creative ways to offer you more affection in return
𝕕𝕒𝕓𝕚 / 𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕪𝕒 𝕥𝕠𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕚 :
➢ this one is kinda depssing compared to everyone else KJSFNDK LMAO IM SORRY PFF
➢ okay so like,,, mans isnt big on affection for a number of Reasons and so obviously he’s gonna be a little confused, but the reaction itself is kinda what raises some red flags and rings alarm bells considering it’s kinda uncharacteristic of him
➢ the first time you did it was by surprise even though he could clearly see you reach for him. he moves his head back quickly, sucking in a breath and raising his hands a little to block something that wasn’t coming. that’s already kind of alarming by itself, but his expression...
➢ you don’t think that you’ve ever seen dabi scared. not like, alarmed or on guard or anything like that, but genuinely, truly scared. scared like something was coming for him. like he was a little kid again, back in that place-
➢ the best course of action here is to back up and put your hands up, giving him some space to recuperate. he’ll drag his own down his face after that, seeming to let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and avoid making direct eye contact with you
➢ it’s very likely that he’ll jut leave without a word after that and might not come back after a few hours. you’ll have to ask him directly what happened to which he’ll give you some basic details, but he’s not going too into depth since ehe doesn't want to bring all that shit back up after he expertly kept it down for so long
➢ if you really want to do it you need to give him a warning every time you do, and he’s really only in specific moods for it on select days anyway. it’s no offense on you, he’s just not all that affectionate ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
➢ a good alternative is to try to hold his hand when he’s not doing something. he might give you a weird look, but the fact that he’s not pushing you away says that he might actually enjoy it a little bit. he won’t say anything about it though, god forbid he talk about his f e e l i n g s
➢ OKAY jesus christ onto more fluffy shit
𝕜𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕠 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕒𝕞𝕚 :
➢ oop- touch starved who??
➢ i know that like,,, in canon he doesn't really express much of his bird traits that kind of signify some of the more Feral parts of his brain but like?? i think that there’s very specific traits that he exhibits that can either be shrugged off as normal behavior or are like explicitly bird-like and receiving affection is definitely the latter
➢ now i don’t know that much about birds but i know that when you pet them sometimes they’ll coo or do that trilling thing so i’m thinking that he would probably do the same thing if given the chance
➢ cuddling with him is probably the way you found out about it though, so it’s no surprise that when you gently cup his face with your hands and stroke his cheek with your thumb he makes a low vibrating noise that comes out on instinct
➢ he gets super embarrassed and has to explain himself through endless stuttering, but after you tell him that “It’s alright, I think it’s kind of cute actually.” he feels a little bit more comfortable with sharing intimate moments like that
➢ being raised to be a weapon means that he didn’t really receive the affection that he should've when he was young, so he might be a little awkward at first, but after like a week of doing it he kind of just rolls with it
➢ like aizawa, it’s a great way to get his eyes off of work and on you instead, but he pretends to be aggravated with it just for the sake of eliciting pointless banter between you two
➢ says something like “You tryin to get my attention, baby bird?” or “What, am I not paying enough attention to you?” just to seem like he’s indifferent but definitely gets pouty and grabs you by the waist if you take your hands off of him
[ ~Thank You For Reading! And If You Have Any Requests, Be Sure To Contact Me!~ ]
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daylighteclipsed · 2 years
Note
tbh (and PLS dont take this as me telling u not to ship it, i dont mean it that way AT ALL), ur last post is why i stopped shipping sns back in the day. specifically the part in shippu when naru told sasu that he would "break every bone in sasu's body to drag him back to konoha" like, sasuke's lit here knowing konoha massacred his entire family, his entire clan, is seriously fucked up on a fascist level tbh, is fighting against that & tryin to make change, & is like
saying "i cant go back to that" & naru is out here saying "idgaf, i want u in this police state regardless, i will lit break ur bones & chain u up to make it happen" like, at that point it feels like he doesnt actually care abt sasuke AT ALL, he cares abt what HE wants, fuck sasuke's feelings or needs. i love & support sasuke so much i cant stand for him to be treated like that. fuck team 7 tbh theyre the worst (except sasuke hes an angel & were glad hes here)
again tho im NOT telling u not to ship it, pls dont think i am!!! just sharing some Thots since u brought up how sasuke was the only one to criticize konoha in shippuden but ultimately was made to bow down & serve konoha & i just. man. its still so upsetting. not to mention how sakura basically raped him to make sarada (tho thats not saradas fault & i do feel bad for her... just goes to show if ur an uchiha ur life sucks i guess :/)
Phew there is a lot going on in this message. Okay, I don't know anything about Sarada and how she was conceived, so I'm not going to touch that. I like Team 7. Yeah, they're a mess, but I like them. I haven't finished the series yet, but I have been spoiled a lot. As far as I know, Naruto's "break every bone in your body" comment is during the first VotE fight when he's 12. If he says that again during the war arc or something --long suffering sigh-- And I don't think Sasuke's an angel lol If I’ve given that impression, it’s probably because people criticize Sasuke more than Naruto. I think all of the characters are flawed. Neither Sasuke nor Naruto have perfect ideologies or completely noble motivations, and that makes them interesting to me.
I went through like 5 long drafts trying to explain why, aside from bad writing, Naruto might keep asking Sasuke to come back to Konoha even after finding out about the massacre only to come to a conclusion that is so obvious in retrospect. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe it’s not the only reason, and I’ll talk about possible others ones too, but this feels pretty right.
When Naruto talks about bringing Sasuke back to the village, it’s not about Konoha. It’s not about the place. It’s a less intimate way of saying, “Come back to me.” I know there’s good in you. I know you don’t want to be alone. I know you’re suffering. Let me help you. Come back to me.
Because I think, I really do think, that if Sasuke accepted Naruto’s support/stopped making self-destructive choices but still expressed dislike/discomfort towards the village, Naruto would understand that. He wouldn’t force Sasuke to stay there. He wouldn't let anyone else force Sasuke to stay there. And if Sasuke still wanted to destroy the village, well, that’s where the murder suicide pact would come in, I guess.
On the other hand, maybe it is about the place. Maybe Naruto thinks that Sasuke can heal if he comes “home” and accepts support from all his “friends” because that’s what worked for Naruto. That’s how Naruto was cured of all his issues, right? 😐
Naruto approaches everything on a personal level, and on a personal level, his philosophy of compassion and forgiveness works, but not against the larger, political picture. Not against fascism. You can’t forgive a fascist system the way you would forgive a friend. You can’t give it another chance. Using violence against fascism isn’t fighting hate with hate. It’s fighting for your freedom, for your life and the lives of others. We’re talking about a state that decided Sasuke’s people do not have the right to live. How can Sasuke possibly call that “home”? How can he call people who support that “friends” or “family”?
If it’s about the place, then it’s absolutely bonkers to me that Naruto doesn’t see that. He has to. He’s either extremely, stupidly naive or insane or... It’s bad writing. But let’s pretend for another second that it’s not. The only in-universe explanation I can come up with is: Naruto admitting that Konoha is bad for Sasuke would mean Naruto admitting that Konoha is bad for him too, and he won’t. He won’t address his trauma. Otherwise, his actions really contradict his supposedly empathetic nature. After Kage Summit, there’s no reason he wouldn’t realize that Sasuke would be miserable in Konoha. There’s no reason he wouldn’t admit that Sasuke is right and do something about it instead of insisting that Sasuke come back. It doesn’t make sense.
All that is to say, I understand why Naruto’s behavior would upset you because it bothers me too. Most likely, it’s bad writing on Kishi’s part, refusing to let Naruto grow and change and admit that he’s wrong. He’s right about compassion and forgiveness on a personal level, but the system is not redeemable. Working within it to solve problems is useless because the system is the reason those problems exist in the first place. But in general I like this series more for its potential than what it actually is anyway. It’s so absurd to me that Naruto and Sasuke don’t work together to change anything in the end, that Sasuke just ends up serving Konoha and not getting any justice, that like I can’t even treat it as canon.
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agentcherricola · 3 years
Text
me and you (setting in a honeymoon)
wrote a little SandKid thing, the boys talk about weddings. just like, a little over 1k words of fluff. warnings for vague mentions of bad parents. pls enjoy! :^)
Kobra Kid rolled off of Sandman, half-naked and breathless, and flopped down onto the ground next to him. The two laid together, quietly catching their breaths and staring up at the ceiling of the Suiteheart’s “living room”. They hadn’t even made it to Sandman’s room when they’d crashed in through the front door just minutes ago, locked together with mouths and teeth and wandering hands. Kobra had all but thrown Sandman onto the floor and climbed on him eagerly, and Sandman removed just enough of their clothing to get the job done. Now, Kobra groped blindly around for where he might have thrown his underwear. Not finding it right away, he sat up to look around. 
“Hey, Kobra?” he heard from the floor next to him.
“Yeah?” Sandman cleared his throat. 
“D’ya ever think about getting married?” he asked, simply. Kobra gave a little chuckle as he stood. He grabbed his briefs from where they’d been flung across the room and slipped them on.
“Sure, once or twice, why?” When he turned back, Sandman was looking directly at him. They were both quiet. “Oh. You mean uh...us?” Sandman didn’t blink, Kobra didn’t think he was even breathing. “Dick really that bomb, huh?” he joked, suddenly extremely aware of how awkward he felt. But Sandman didn’t laugh in return, he just sat up. 
“I just mean, like, in general, I guess,” Sandman said. He busied himself with zipping up his jeans and picking up his shirt where it was draped over the single couch. Kobra stood where he was and just watched him. “I don’t know, it was stupid to bring it up.”
“No, Sandy, I didn’t...are you really being serious?” When he didn’t look back up, Kobra finally crossed the room and crouched next to him. “Hey. Look at me.” He tilted Sandman’s face towards him with a gentle hand under the chin. Sandman reached up with his own hand and took hold of Kobra’s, kissing his palm. 
“I’m not like, tryin’ to propose to you right now or anythin’, but...we ain’t living forever. It’s just somethin’ I was thinkin’ about. I really love you, Kobra,” he said quietly. Kobra gently brushed a lock of hair off Sandman’s forehead.
“I love you too, Sandy,” he replied. They both shared a soft smile. Kobra quickly nudged Sandman’s arms out of the way and straddled his lap. He draped both arms over Sandman’s shoulders and absently played with some of the hair at the nape of his neck. “I dunno...I mean I guess when I was still livin’ in the city I thought about gettin’ married. But when me an’ Poison an’ Ghoul left...I kinda didn’t even think we’d make it to 21,” he said absently, eyes softly focused on the collar of his boyfriend’s shirt. He breathed a little laugh. Sandman wrapped his own arms around Kobra’s waist, gently running his nails up and down his back. Kobra closed his eyes, hummed, and leaned into the touch.
“Well you made it a little past that, so congrats,” Sandman laughed. He went quiet again for a moment, just watching Kobra’s softly pleased face. “I’ve seen a bunch of weddings out here. I dunno what they were like in the city, but desert weddings are...well they’re something else. There’s like, never any fighting that day, and the weather is always perfect somehow. The two or three ‘joys gettin’ married get up in front of all their friends and give their vows, and then they exchange trinkets. Like a bracelet or an earring or a necklace or somethin’, just somethin’ made with their beloveds in mind that they can wear with them forever. And then, yeah, of course there’s a big party afterwards. Yeah. It’s sweet,” he explained. At some point, Kobra had let his eyes gently flutter open to watch the dreamy look in Sandman’s eyes.
“...The day’s always perfect?” Kobra eventually asked. Sandman blinked and looked at him.
“Yeah. I’ve been to a bunch of weddings and I’ve never seen one where it wasn’t a beautiful day with no Dracs, no in-fighting, no acid rain, nothin’.” Kobra tilted his head, thoughtful.
“City weddings are kinda like that, I guess. But everyone’s gotta dress up fancy and sit quietly in a big church for like...hours. There’s parties afterwards, too, but there’s all kinds ‘a stuff that the brides an’ grooms ‘have to’ do, and everyone else has to watch. Plus, it’s like, thousands of carbons an’ people judge you if you don’t spend enough. I thought it was kinda dumb,” he explained. “I thought if I got married when I was older I wouldn’t do any of that boring shit. It would just be me an’ whoever I was marrying, and I guess some of my friends and Poison could be there...and we’d, I dunno, sign our contract and spend the rest of the day getting smashed and havin’ sex with my husband.” Sandman laughed again, wrapping his arms tighter around Kobra’s waist.
“Oh, there’s plenty of that last part, too, at desert weddings,” he said. But he paused, tilting his head in confusion. “Did you say sign a contract?” 
“Yep. To make sure you don’t fuck each other over when you start hatin’ each other, I guess,” Kobra said with a nod. Sandman furrowed his brow. 
“That sucks. Ain’t it about love?” That really made Kobra think. He thought about his parents, who would smile at each other and at him but it would never quite reach their eyes. How they would sit next to each other, but never close enough to touch. He didn’t even want to think about Ghoul’s parents, who he’d had the misfortune of meeting once. He’d basically had to hold Poison back from attacking them after seeing how they treated each other and Ghoul. Kobra shook his head. 
“Not always. But is anythin’ in the city really about love?” he eventually replied. Sandman’s warm hands tucking under his shirt brough Kobra back to the present. He looked down at Sandman, who was looking up at him with so much adoration it almost made him want to cry. Kobra leaned down and kissed him, sweetly.
“Like I said, it’s just somethin’ I was thinkin’ about. We don’t have to do anything or bring it up again if you don’t wanna. But...I guess you know where I stand,” Sandman said when they broke apart. Even though the room was dark, Kobra could see the blush starting to paint his cheeks. He tapped the tip of Sandman’s nose with one finger, which made them both giggle.
“No, I’m...I’m glad you brought it up. Gives me somethin’ to think about.” Sandman leaned his head forward and rested it on Kobra’s chest. He gave another, fluttery laugh.
“Holy shit, can I just say I am so glad you took that so well...I thought for sure you were gonna leave a Kobra-shaped dust cloud with how fast you’d run outta here.”
“Hey!” Kobra interjected, mock offended. “I am not that scared of commitment…” He paused, just feeling without seeing the skeptical look on Sandman’s face. “I know I didn’t let us be official for uh...a while, but maybe I’ve changed!” Sandman still didn’t say anything, so Kobra started to stand up. But Sandman held fast, quickly grabbing for Kobra’s wrists and wrestling him down onto his back with very little effort. Kobra let himself be pinned to the floor by his wrists and hips. Sandman looked down from straddling his boyfriend with a grin.
“I know, yer soft now. Two or three months ago you wouldn’t ‘a even let me do this,” he teased. Kobra blew a strand of hair out of his eyes.
“Maybe it’s just cuz I like being here. Between your legs.” For emphasis, he bucked his hips up and knocked Sandman forward. They met in the middle with a kiss, but instead of being hot and hard like earlier, this kiss was tender, grinning against each other’s lips. “I do love you, Sandman. You know that, right?” Kobra whispered. Sandman just nodded.
“Yeah, I know. I love you, too.”
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deniigi · 4 years
Note
Are we gonna see more of lance corporal Wilson or the Blind Devil?
uhhhh not as of now. But! I have a little piece of them trying to bond with Benj for you, anon!
Basically, in this piece, the Blind Devil and Corporal Wilson take Benj with them to one of BD’s boxing matches and he has a somewhat adverse reaction.
Warning for panic attacks.
-------
Oh god, this was horrible. This was bad, horrible, and wrong and Maidíu was laughing up there in the ring through a smashed nose and the Lance Corporal was calling him names that May would have absolutely skewered Peter for using and it was just—
It was so much.
Everything was happening in double time. Triple time. In half the space—a quarter of the space--it ought to be happening in.
Peter was going to scream.
No. He wasn’t going to scream.
He never screamed. He’d been through so much worse than this. Walls had literally caved in on him multiple times and he hadn’t screamed. Nails had pierced his skin and bullets had slammed through his thighs.
A load of shouting people crammed in around a ring wasn’t going to be the thing that undid him. Not if he had anything to say about it.
“HEY.”
It wasn’t.
“Hey? Spiderkid?”
He just needed to breathe. That’s all.
“Spiderkid? Hey, hey. Woah. You don’t look so good, hon. Here, let’s move back.”
No, he was fine, LC.
He just—
He just—
Breathing. He needed to breathe and he couldn’t breathe with all these bodies pressing against him. Pressing into him. Squeezing him from all sides—
“What’s going on?”
Who was that?
“I don’t know. Seems like some kinda asthma?” LC Wilson called over the shouting.
It wasn’t asthma. Peter didn’t have asthma. He didn’t have anything; he just needed air. That was all. A little bit of space.
“What’s your name?”
“Mine?”
“Yeah.”
“Wilson. Wade Wilson. This here’s Pete.”
“Buddy of yours?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, wait. You’re Matty’s pal?”
“Oh, hey! Yeah, that’s us. You heard of us?”
All this chatter was making Peter’s head swim and there were huge, heavy hands on his shoulders now and he wasn’t wearing the mask or the coat, so he couldn’t swing around and tear them off. Break the bones.
Make them never, ever touch him again.
He couldn’t—
He couldn’t—
Goddamnit, he couldn’t breathe.
“The name’s Jack. Matty’s my boy. Here, I’ll take this one out for a sec.”
“You sure? I can take ‘im.”
“Nah, ease off, kid. Matt ain’t need no help. He’s fixin’ to win this one. If he asks, tell ‘im I’m out with the smallest of youse.”
The huge hand on Peter’s shoulder tensed and pushed and Peter found that he couldn’t resist it. It shoved him through a torrent of bodies, back, back, back, until suddenly, everything was cold and dark again.
They were outside.
Peter collapsed forward, gasping. Coughing. Clutching at his knees.
It was way quieter outside in the cold.
It took him a long time feel comfortable opening his eyes. Out of the corner of one of them, he saw knees. He bolted up straight and nearly stumbled back at the sight of one of the biggest men he’d ever laid eyes on.
“I’m—I’m—” he stammered, caught between an apology and something else he didn’t really know.
“You’re alright, little one,” the huge man said with a wink.
He was Irish. Fuck, he was Irish.
Peter already found parsing Maidíu’s half-New York, half-Irish accent challenging at times, but this guy?
He is cadence was so jolting that it took Peter’s brain several seconds to make the sounds into words and the words into sentences.
“I’m sorry?” he said automatically.
“I said, ‘you’re alright,’” the huge man said. “Take a coupla breaths. You’ll be alright.”
What the fuck was he saying?
Peter still couldn’t make his ears adjust.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated.
The huge man huffed.
  The guy was patient and oddly gentle.
Peter only found out the latter bit when he tried to go back into the ring to find the Lance Corporal. He didn’t get very far. What he got was a hand on his shoulder and a slow push back.
“I’m okay,” he told the Irishman for what felt like the fortieth time. “I’m okay, I can go back in. I won’t ralph on your floors or nothing.”
“Mm-hm,” the Irishman said, nonbelieving.
A roar went up through the house behind him. Peter jerked at the sound. The Irishman’s expression didn’t change.
“I’m not drunk,” Peter told him.
The Irishman didn’t believe him. His eyes seemed half-closed from how far down he had to look at Peter.
Peter wondered if he had a chance here on the street.
If he got a good solid punch in, in the head-region he probably could. But he only had one chance. This fucker was going to know how to fight.
“Da?”
Eh?
Peter looked up to see Maidíu with his hand on the doorframe feeling around it and turning his face back and forth.
“Right ‘ere, son,” the huge man said.
“Ah. There you are,” Maidíu said, stepping more boldly forward towards the sound of the man’s voice. His nose was disgusting. The huge man—Maidíu’s father?—looked over at him and lifted a brow.
“Come on, now, Matty. Can’t be lettin’ someone get the drop on ya like that,” he said.
“Did for the crowd,” Maidíu told him.
“Sure ya did.”
Good lord, this was Maidíu’s father. No wonder he was the size of a house.
“This one’s one of yours, son?” Maidíu’s father asked him.
“Which one?”
“Skinny ‘un. Dark ‘air, dark eye, spectacles.”
“Ah. Peter, then. Wilson said you weren’t feelin’ so good, kid. You alright?”
Uuuuuuuh no.
But neither of these massive bulls needed to know that.
“I’m okay,” he said instead. “Just had a bout of asthma or something.”
“Looked to me like the shell-shock,” Maidíu’s father said out of nowhere.
Peter’s breath froze in his chest.
“Da, don’t be scarin’ him like that,” Maidíu scolded. “C’mere, Pete. Ignore him. He thinks he knows everythin’.”
“I do know everythin’, I’m old as mountains, I am,” Maidíu’s father said.
“He serves in a war, comes back, and now he’s got every story in the worl’ in his head,” Maidíu huffed.
“I keep ‘em there with the lumps,” his dad told Peter with a wink.
“Da.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll leave youse be. It was good meetin’ you, Pete. We’ll have you ‘round to a quieter night one of this days, eh, Matt?”
“Yea, yea. Feck off, old man.”
Maidíu waited for the bigger guy to move around him before holding a hand out to Peter.
“He didn’t scare ya too bad, did he?” he asked.
Peter shook his head, then caught himself.
“No,” he said. “Just—I wanted to watch you, uh. You know. Fight. The LC seemed to be having a good time.”
Maidíu blinked sightless, scarred eyes Peter’s way and then smiled.
“It’s alright,” he said. “It can be really overwhelmin’ the first time you’re really in it. Da used to put me up high so’s he’d know I wouldn’t get crushed.”
Oh.
Oh, okay.
Peter sighed before he could stop himself. Maidíu cocked his head and carefully stepped forward, feeling with his toes for the edge of the steps his father had been previously been guarding.
“What’s the matter, Pete?” Maidíu asked gently.
“Nothing,” Peter said.
“I don’t know much, son. But I know it ain’t nothin’.”
Peter sighed again.
“I just—I wanted—I want—”
He didn’t know how to make the feeling into words. He couldn’t even do it in his head, how was he supposed to out loud?
“You want to be included?”
Oh.
Maybe like that.
“I want to have friends,” Peter felt himself say in a rush.
He didn’t mean to say it.
“I want to be like you guys. I want to just—you know. Have fun. Go to a match. Just relax and watch. But it’s like—I can’t. Every time I go out with people, it’s like I can’t make everything stop. My head’s always goin’ and everything starts getting’ really close together and I can’t help but start checkin’ over my shoulders—and it all just defeats the purpose,” Peter spewed forth in frustration.
Maidíu said nothing.
Peter sucked in a big breath.
He didn’t expect anyone to understand. He didn’t know why they would. No one else he knew had this feeling.
“Forget it,” he said.
“You know,” Maidíu’s rumbly voice said softly, “Da might not have been too far off there.”
“What?” Peter asked. “What do you mean?”
Maidíu shrugged a shoulder and itched at the drying blood on his face.
“I just mean, that—well. I was a wain when Da came back from the Front, but he had all these stories, ya know? Of men doin’ this and doin’ that. ‘Cause of the shell-shock. He used to tell me that some of his buddies’ eyes would go wide and they’d start breathin’ fast and funny. Gaspin’ like they couldn’t get enough air in, and they’d want to get out of the trench. They’d be sayin’ that they’d suffocate if they stayed in the trench. But you know, they couldn’t get up overhead. That was nothin’ but a death sentence. So.” Maidíu trailed off.
“You think I’ve got shell-shock,” Peter scoffed.
“I think you got somethin’ like it,” Maidíu said. “Don’t worry, though, kid. I get those feelings too, sometimes. Comes from being blind, I suspect. Gets real lonely sometimes. But then it’s all too much at the same time, too. Helps to just come outside and breath. That’s what my old man was tryin’ to get you to do.”
Ah.
Right.
That was…embarrassing.
“You’re alright, Peter. It’s okay. Here, do me a favor, huh?”
Peter lifted his face to see Maidíu holding out a hand with rough, calloused fingers. His own hands felt small and skinny at his sides.
“Peter.”
He balled them, stepped forward and took ahold of the fingers.
“Atta boy,” Maidíu told him.
“What do you need?” Peter asked him.
“Ah, well. See, me old man’s ‘bout to pummel a man into the ropes and it’s been ages since I knew what it looked like.”
Peter frowned.
“So you want me to what?” he asked.
“Tell me what it looks like,” Maidíu asked with alight lift to his eyebrows. “Don’t have to be perfect or anythin’. But it’d be nice to hear some commentary. You know, like on the radio. Is that okay?”
Yeah. Yeah, that was okay.
“Maybe we should find the Lance Corporal first,” Peter said. “You know his commentary’ll be better than mine.”
Maidíu smiled and turned his head back towards the commotion taking place inside the building again.
“If you say so,” he said.
When Peter came in closer, the fingers in his hand migrated until they were cupped around his elbow. The light light from inside made him take a deep breath. He held it. Then took another.
“Good work,” Maidíu said. “Here, let’s stay in the back so I can hear ya over this lot.”
Yes.
Yes, let’s do that.
One foot forward up these stairs. That was all. He was helping this blind man. This blind man was his friend.
He’d be okay. They’d be in the back, away from the crowd.
“Good man, Pete. You’re a brave little thing, you know that?” Maidíu encouraged.
Peter laughed.
Brave.
Yeah.
Obviously.
He was Spiderman. He was so brave. And so stupid. So reckless and cocky.
Come along now, Spiderman. Onward march, already.
“Come on, Devilman,” he said. “Step to it, we don’t got all night.”
 -----------
65 notes · View notes
rolllingthunderr · 4 years
Text
UkaTake Unexpected d&d fluff | 1.6K words | SFW
tw: drinking //
-
“Well, this is unexpected?” Takeda stops in the doorway, smile threatening to take over his face and he puts a hand over his mouth to hide it as Ukai turns and frowns from where he’s sitting behind the DM screen.
Ukai leans back to smile softly at him, like he always did whenever he caught sight of him, something Takeda would never get over, before catching up with what he said and frowns. “Shaddup. Are you playing or what?”
“Yeah, we’re missing a few people.” Makoto smiles from where he’s sitting at the end of their kitchen table, paper and dice spread out before him with Takinoue in much the same arrangement beside him. “We need a healer.”
“Is this what you were sending me links for this morning?” He turns to Ukai, grinning as he watches him pull out a few character sheets and dice sets.
“Yeah. We don’t get many opportunities to play. How long’s this campaign been running Tak?”
“Two years I think?”
“Well i’ll happily join if you give me a few minutes to change. I may be a little rusty though. I haven’t played in years.” Before going to change he leans forward to kiss the top of his partner's head, smiling when Ukai sits up straight to lean his head back so he can kiss him properly.
“Hurry up. I’ll get you a drink. Whadda ya want?”
“That weird beer you got in, give me a few minutes.” He’s quick to change and go back into the kitchen, sitting in the chair that’s closest to Ukai which had apparently already been set up with a character sheet and dice.
“Cleric huh?” He takes a look over it. The class and level had already been set up, as well as prepared spells, but everything else was left blank so he quickly fills it in, using the memories from when he last played a cleric to create his character now as quickly as he can.
“Here Ittetsu.” Ukai comes back, passing him the beer with a kiss to his temple as he sits down, putting the other snacks he bought in towards the middle of the table.
“Thanks Kei.” Absently, he winds their legs together under the table as he sorts himself out while Makoto and Takinoue fill him in on the basics of the campaign.
“So we started out as mercenaries, but we sort of joined a plot to kill the king and that’s our focus on the minute.” Makoto explains. “We’re currently trying to break in the castle so we like, find you in the stables or something.”
“Sounds good.” He smiles as Ukai reaches under the table to grab his legs and pull his feet into his lap. Pushing over a packet of his favourite sweets as he does so, acting nonchalant about it although the tips of his ears are red.
Shifting so he’s comfortable and ignoring the eye rolls from their friends at their domesticity, Takeda settles in properly. “Alright, let’s get this started then.”
-
It takes all of twenty minutes before the apparent serious mood turns goofy, and Takeda leans into it heavily.
He’d forgotten how much he loved this game, and the customers at work had been particularly mean that day. He wished his teacher's salary stretched so he didn’t have to work through the summer but he did what he had to. It just meant he was all too ready to let off some steam now anyway.
“What do you mean I can’t flirt with the DM to get advantage?” He asks, pouting in the way he knows will get Ukai to flush, which causes Makato and Takinoue to giggle into their drinks.
“That’s not how it works babe.” Ukai sighs, but he’s very obviously trying to hide his grin.
“You’re the dm, you say what goes!”
“Exactly!” Takinoue leans forward, gesturing with his bottle. “We need advantage on that persuasion check c’mon please.”
“Okay if you ask i’m definitely gonna say no.” He growls, pointing right back.
“Shut up Tak.” Makoto hisses and Takeda can’t help but laugh at them. One of the good things about originally getting to know Ukai had been the friends who had followed him into their friendship. He had always been a little too awkward and earnest to make his own friends past being acquaintances. But Ukai hadn’t minded one bit and apparently, neither did his friends. And they were his friends too now.
“Yeah Tak.” He smirks, before turning the smirk to Ukai who averts his eyes.
“That’s not gonna work either.”
“Fine fine. Let me roll.” He gives it up, but he doesn’t miss the way Ukai squeezes his ankle. Maybe an apology, but it’s more likely a ‘hah’ at not giving in to his puppy eyes.
“Okay that’s a ten?” He grimaces given how low it was even with him adding everything to it.
Another squeeze. “Surprisingly, you come up against a particularly stupid guard and he lets you in without question.”
“Then i’m gonna kill him to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere!” Makoto slams the table, feral gleam in his eye that’s mirrored by all of them.
“Then roll for initiative.”
-
They end the night late and tipsy. And with plans to continue the next week given they had ended the session by being caught and thrown into the castle dungeons.
“Bye!” Takeda calls from under Ukai’s arm as they stand in the doorway. Waving Makoto and Takinoue off as they head home.
Once they’re out of sight they close the door and Ukai lets go, sighing as he looks at the messy table they’d left in their wake.
“Think we can leave it ‘till tomorrow?” He asks and Takeda nods, following to wrap his arms around Ukai’s waist from behind, burying his face in his shoulder blades.
“I mean, i’ve got the day off. I can do it whenever I get up.”
“Fuck I love you.” Ukai grins, turning around. Takeda just smiles back until he squeaks when unexpectedly Ukai reaches down to grab his thighs, hoisting him up. All he can do is wrap his legs around his waist and arms around his neck, laughing.
“What are you doing? I’m heavy c’mon-”
“I carry boxes of stock heavier than you babe.” Takeda can feel himself blushing and he buries his face in the crook of Ukai’s neck, grinning against the skin there before nosing it. Just to hear him sigh happily as he carries him carefully through their apartment.
He was secretly a sap. Or well, it was more a badly kept secret over an actual secret.
“Love you.” He nuzzles in. A little loose from the booze and he wiggles in Ukai’s grip, to feel his hands shift to settle him properly, and then while he’s there cop a feel of his ass which gets him laughing.
“You tryin’ to feel me up?” He pulls back, laughing even harder when Ukai drops him onto the bed, leaning over him as he kneels between his legs before lying heavily down.
It’s a weight Takeda loves, and he wraps his legs a little more firmly around his partner to keep him there as Ukai smirks down at him. He rests his elbows either side of Takeda’s head, leaning heavily down as he kisses him. Slow and open mouthed, completely sloppy.
Gross bastard. He really loved him
“Always babe.” Ukai grins in between kisses, one hand absently going to run through the strands of Takeda’s hair he can reach. Wrist bent a little awkwardly.
He reaches up to take the headband out of Ukai’s hair, chuckling when his hair falls into disarray around his face, strands falling over his face. He throws the hairband aside, hands going to play with it and spike it up before letting it all again, scratching his nails along Ukai’s scalp in the way he knows he likes.
“Hmm, you need to dye your roots again Kei.” He tugs at one of the strands, laughing when Ukai just licks a stripe up his face in indignant response. He goes to say something else, tease ready but the comment leaves his brain when Ukai starts kissing down his neck. He starts at his jaw, closed mouth kisses progressing to licks and then sharp nips the further down his neck he goes. Sucking hickies into the skin below the neckline of his shirt where the only people who could see the marks were them.
“So, what did you think about the game?” Ukai asks when he stops, resting his chin on Takeda’s chest and Takeda can’t help but burst into laughter.
“You’re asking me that now?” He giggles, tucking Ukai’s hair behind his ears. “Nerd.”
“Says you, Mr Teacher.”
“I’m not the one who brings up dnd in the middle of a make out session.”
“Oh shut up we’re not kids, c’mon.” Ukai whines. “At least call it somethin’ sexier.”
“No can do. You like me for my awkward charm.”
“Love you.” Ukai corrects without even thinking about it, and Takeda instantly blushes so hard he has to cover his face.
“Love you too.” He mutters. Unable to move his hands.
Gently, Ukai moves his hands out the way to kiss him and take his glasses off. Reaching over to them on their bedside table, and Takeda whines at the loss of him. He’s too tired and tipsy to really have a filter so he reaches out without thinking. Flushing again and hiding his face when Ukai turns to face him again, smirking down at him before that breaks into a soft grin. Resettling himself in between Takeda’s legs. Shifting comfortably as he rests his arm back where they were.
“Fucking nerd.”
“Shut up.” He leans up to kiss him once again, and settles in for the night.
36 notes · View notes
thompsborn · 3 years
Note
Can I get 👉👈 a Flash centric one shot 👉👈 for the song shuffle thing 👉👈
you were good to me by jeremy zucker, chelsea cutler
leavin' isn't better than tryin'
growin', but i'm just growin' tired
now i'm worried for my soul
and i'm still scared of growin' old
you were good to me
and i'm so used to letting go
but i don't wanna be alone
you were good to me
god only knows where our fears go
hearts i've broke, now my tears flow
you'll see that i'm sorry
'cause you were good to me
you were good to me
[send me a character/ship/dynamic/etc. and i’ll put my music on shuffle and write a drabble/one shot based on the first song that plays!]
actually i’m gonna wait to take more shuffle song requests until after i finish the ones i still have in my drafts!!
-
i was debating how i wanted to approach this and then earlier today @peachy-keener sent me messages about flash x harley which i already lowkey shipped before but now,,,,,,,, But Now,,,,,, they live rent free in my brain. but this is flash centric!! this is less harleyflash and more PRE-harleyflash. also post endgame.
the ending is abrupt and not good but i genuinely cannot figure out how i want to move forward so that’s the end! that’s it!
(it isn’t stated explicitly, but peterxnedxmj)
-
tw: rough childhood implications for harley, descriptions of neglectful parenting and verbal abuse, cycle of abuse, getting kicked out of the house, loneliness. it’s a hopeful ending though!! even if it is abrupt and not very good!!
-
Flash meets Harley Keener after the worst morning of his entire fucking life.
They’re going back to school, because of fucking course they are—barely two weeks have passed since Flash reappeared on the steps leading up to MoMA, tripped over his own two feet in his haste to get a grip on his bearings, and prompty slips on a step and lands nose first into the concrete, a crunch filling his ears. The public hasn’t even gotten a full release about what the hell happened—just a basic press conference, where Steve Rogers, clad in stained sweatpants and with bags under his eyes, a side of him that the public has never seen, handed his shield over to a teary eyed Sam Wilson and promised transparency and honesty, the entire story from start to finish with nothing held back, as soon as they recovered enough to give it all.
Flash doesn’t want to go back to school, except for the fact that he definitely does, if only for the chance of semblance of normalcy.
Everything is different now, after the snap. Or, the re-snap—second snap, the return, the blip, whatever the hell people are calling it. He doesn’t care about what it ends up being called. He just knows that nothing is the same, now.
His sister wasn’t one of the ones who lived those five years, crumbled to ash (dust?)just like Flash did, and he despises the meer idea of Jesse staring down at her hands in terror while watching them disappear and him not being there to at least offer comfort, or something, but he’s selfishly grateful, as well. He didn’t miss a second of her growing up. She’s only thirteen to his sixteen, after all—had she lived, he would have come back to his baby sister being a year older than him, likely a completely different person, like all the shells of people he’s seen on the streets, shells that only ignite with life when they find the person they lost. Christ, Jesse could have been one of those shells.
Thinking about it makes shivers run down his spine, his stomach churn.. He hates it. He hates how close he was to losing that.
God, he hates them—his parents, or the sorry excuse of parents that they are. He hates that he’s coming back from being dead for five years to a step-mom and a step-dad, both of whom clearly despise the fact that they’re expected to help raise these two kids who are just lost and terrified and trying to adjust. They both moved to bigger houses—that are, at the very least, still in the same neighborhood and no more than a ten minute walk apart, making it a bit easier to handle when, inevitably, Flash gets shoved into his father’s care while Jesse is lovingly enveloped into their mother’s arms.
Their mother, who seemed to care at least a little bit beforehand—always kept bandaids and juice boxes in stock, just because he had a tendency of scraping his knee in elementary school and always wanted a juice box when he got home. Sometimes, she would brush fingers through his hair and promise that she loved him, even if she knew she was awful as showing it—even if she, willingly or not, would always love her daughter more. She had not loved him like a mother, no, but like someone who at least gave a shit about his general well being.
Something—well, again, everything—has changed since before, because his mom never even looks at him anymore, barely manages a glance in his general direction whenever he happens to be nearby, which has been a lot, because the custody battle—which, of course, his father paid great money to make a priority in the courts, and then blamed Flash for because of how far he had to dip into his wallet to make it happen—has taken most of the two weeks, even though it was that first day he was shoved into his father’s house, like they knew what they wanted, like it wasn’t going to be a battle until Flash and Jesse themselves spoke up about how much they didn’t want to be separated.
Of course. More things to blame Flash about.
Which his father—and his wife, Trudy—both do. Something they like to flaunt in his face at every hour of the day, like it isn’t bad enough that he put up a fight and still ended up separated from Jesse, like he isn’t about to go back to school with a still-healing broken nose and living in a house he doesn’t know in a room that was clearly never supposed to be his and—
He wakes up the day he’s supposed to go back to school and stares at an unfamiliar ceiling and none of the posters that he had up before he disappeared, an alarm clock that must have been invented while he was gone blaring obnoxiously in his ear. It immediately sets his teeth on edge, makes his shoulders tense.
Maybe, he hopes, school will be familiar.
But everything has changed.
The school, itself, isn’t completely different, of course—classes are where they’ve always been, even if the names on the desks have changed; bathrooms are still pretty gross and have that high school bathroom smell that, for the first time in existence, he’s kind of glad to come across, if only because it makes him feel like it’s still 2018 and he’s going to walk out the door and see faces that he actually know.
He opens the door and a tall blonde guy walks into it—nose first, of course, whips his head back with a yelp and brings a hand up to poke at his nostrils, looks down a moment later and frowns at the crimson shining on the tips of his fingers, and then looks up at Flash.
Instead of anger, he grins, all crooked and boyish, and says, “Hey, we match!”
“We...” Flash trails off, confused; this guy doesn’t even sound like a New Yorker. Has the normal New York accent changed, too? The dude sound souther, for fucks sake. “What?”
Bloody fingers point at Flash’s face—actually, really, at his nose, still bandaged. “That. Noses, y’know? Pretty sure that just broke mine, so—”
“Oh, god,” Flash groans, head dropping to his hands. “Please tell me you’re joking, man.”
Stupidly, the guy pokes at his nose again—this time, at the slightly noticable crook towards the end. He sucks in a sharp breath, winces, and says, “Well, it ain’t feelin’ all that great...”
Flash groans again. “Of fucking course I just broke someone’s fucking nose. Of course.”
“Uh...” The guy frowns, glancing down as a drop of blood falls on the tip of his shoe. “S’alright. You didn’t do it on purpose, so—”
Instantly, Flash chokes on a stupidly bitter laugh. “Not like that’ll matter,” he murmurs.
“So,” the guy goes on, either not hearing Flash’s interjection or choosing not to react to it, “I don’t see what the problem is, here.”
“Of course you don’t,” Flash says, laughing again. “No one—” he stops, brows furrowing as he shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, shouldering his backpack with a sigh. “C’mon.”
The guy doesn’t follow when Flash starts walking. When he looks back, the guy is visibly confused. “Why am I following you to a random place, and why are you looking at me like I’m the one who’s being weird right now?”
“The office,” Flash says, instead of providing, like, a real answer. The guy looks even more lost, even looks over his shoulder like Flash is talking to someone else entirely. Flash sighs. “I just broke your nose, man. We have to go to the office so you can get it checked out and tell them what happened. Call home, too, probably, since you’re pretty sure it’s actually broken.”
The guy tilts his head. “We?”
Flash’s frown deepens into a grimace. “Yeah.”
“I think I’m a bit confused, here...”
Groaning once again, Flash gestures down the hallway, in the direction he had been trying to walk, and says, “We need to tell them—”
“That I walked into a door?”
“That I broke your nose!” Flash exclaims.
The guy crinkles his nose before immediately flinching and smoothening it out. “You opened a door. The door that broke my nose because I walked into it. That’s not your fault.”
Flash stares at him, beyond confused and borderline incredulous, but he’s also tired and he doesn’t know this guy or most of the people currently attending this school and his dad married a woman who hates him and his mom also apparently hates him now, too, and he’s living in a guest room that he knows was made specifically for Trudy’s parents to visit them and Jesse doesn’t like mom’s new husband (Flash doesn’t know his name; he wasn’t introduced to the guy and was always lost in his head whenever the judge occasionally brought it up during the custody ordeal) and she misses living together but she’s becoming less and less bitter every day, gushes about how much mom spoils her and peppers her face with kisses and cries while blubbering over how much she missed her and, Christ, no one missed him!
No one. No one wanted him to come back.
“Whatever,” he tells this stranger, no longer seeing the guy, no longer caring.
He doesn’t look back when he walks away.
-
Harley Keener—as Flash later learns, since he apparently has fifth period with the guy—is, of course, friends with Parker.
Parker, who Flash will never admit to admiring, will never vocalize how jealous he is of everything that Peter has, greets Harley with a small smile, and maybe, if Flash hadn’t instantly scoffed and looked away, he could have noticed the look of understanding and grief that the both of them wore.
Though, he can’t deny, seeing someone he actually knows makes things easier. Or, at least, it does for a few seconds, until he sees the way that Leeds is quiet, staring down at his hands a lot, looking at Parker like he’s looking at a gravestone, glancing at Jones, who is damn near stoic, with pain in his features. Until he notices all the ways that they’re different, too.
He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, tastes copper, and doesn’t pay attention to the teacher—who he doesn’t fucking know.
Nothing is the same, he thinks.
Not a single god damn thing.
-
Flash finishes his junior year with no friends, bimonthly weekend visits with his sister, and so much anger burning in his veins that he spits insults at anyone who crosses his path, people who don’t get it, who will never understand.
“You’re a fucking hick that’s probably here on scholarship,” Flash snarls when Harley tries to interfere a verbal beating of a random kid who looks like he isn’t old enough to drive just yet.
Harley’s eyes harden, and his nose—not as straight, now, as it once was, a constant reminder of the break that healed just a little bit wrong—crinkles. He looks conflicted about the situation, and Flash knows that Harley has, for the past few months, been nothing but a kind stranger that tries to talk to Flash in the halls, who always asks how he is and how his day is going and doesn’t even deflate when Flash acts like it’s a hinderance, because Flash doesn’t know how to accept kindness, to react when someone seems to give a shit about him.
Jesse cares—loves him, of course. But Jesse is making friends at her school, and she’s adapting in a way that Flash can’t seem to do.
Harley is a person, a random person, who shows interest whenever he has the opportunity to talk to Flash. Who acts like, maybe, he might kind of care, too.
“Do you think anyone gives a shit about you?” Flash asks—seeing Harley’s face in front of him, sure, but his words are directed at only himself, unable to accept the idea of a stranger caring about him. “You’re nothing,” he says. “You don’t fucking matter, alright? No one fucking cares!”
And then, Parker—in a blur of motion, something awful and protective battling on his face—is standing between them. His teeth are bared like an animal, eyes burning, as he spits out, “Do not talk to him like that.”
“Peter,” Harley tries, voice weak.
Having none of it, apparently, Parker ignores his protest, tells Flash, who is shellshocked by seeing Peter genuinely furious for the first time since tripping him in the halls as freshman, “I don’t give a shit what you say to me, Flash, I’ve put up with it for years, but you do not talk like that to—to anyone else, but especially not to one of the only family members I have left!”
A wounded noise rumbles from Harley’s throat, but Flash—Flash is furious. Because, really, at least Parker has people—he has an aunt who is a better parent than either of his have ever been, friends who are so loving and protective that it feels like they’re in love with the guy ninety-nine percent of the time, and Harley, too? Harley, who has tears in his eyes and Flash doesn’t know if it’s because of his words or Peter’s, who reaches forward and yanks Peter back towards him. “Peter,” he says again, more forcefully now. “It’s fine, dude. Let’s just go.”
Parker sets his jaw and glares at Flash like his life depends on it. Flash, of course, decides to open his fucking mouth and says, “Sure, just go back to people who probably hate you—”
He doesn’t know where he’s going with that, but he doesn’t get the chance to before Ned fucking Leeds steps in front of him and swings.
He starts summer with another broken nose.
Sure, he deserves it—but it sucks, nonetheless.
-
At the start of senior year, Harley approaches him and, for some reason, apoligizes
“What?” Flash says—the only that that comes to mind, sometimes standalone, sometimes followed by an even more incredulous the fuck?
“M’sorry,” Harley repeats. “Pete shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that, and Ned—Christ Almighty, he’s a sweetheart, but him and Michelle would do anything for Pete, and when they thought you were sayin’ that shit to him, there wasn’t nothin’ that could’ve stopped ‘em.”
Flash frowns. “Dude... what the fuck?”
Harley mirrors his frown, tilts his head to the side. “What? Am I not makin’ sense?”
“You’re apologizing,” Flash says. “To me.”
Slowly, Harley nods. “Yeah, I am.”
Flash shakes his head. “Why?”
“‘Cause you weren’t sayin’ that shit to me and Pete, that’s why,” Harley answers, almost matter of fact and simple. “I know it.” All Flash can manage to do is shake his head again, not understanding what the hell Harley is talking about, until Harley glances away, brings a hand up to scratch nervously at the back of his neck, and murmurs, “I mean... I get what it’s like, saying somethin’ about someone else that you really mean about yourself... y’know?”
He doesn’t have any semblance of control when his features go blank, when his shoulders are drawn up, defensive, disbelieveing. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Harley smiles. He smiles. “Yeah, I know what it’s like to play stupid, too. Seriously—I get it.”
No one gets it, Flash thinks.
He doesn’t say it. Or anything, really.
All he does is walk away.
-
He walks away later that day, when Harley tries to approach him. He turns tail and bolts the second he sees blond hair in the distance, whether it’s Harley or not—does this for days, and then weeks, and then—
And then Harley stops trying to approach him.
Flash doesn’t get why that fact makes him heavy, his brain a taunting repetition of knew that no one cared, knew it, knew it, knew it.
Oddly enough, it hurts more than usual.
-
He graduates.
No one is in the crowd for him—his mother planned a vacation with her husband (still nameless, since Flash doesn’t care enough to learn it anyway) and Jesse that just so happened to line up with graduation. Trudy and Harrison stopped acknoledging him entirely a few months after he came back, unless out of absolute necessity and usually with scathing commentary that burn every single time.
A few people clap for him—and he knows, once he sees that it’s Harley and Peter and Ned and Michelle, that he doesn’t deserve it.
Too nice, all of them. Acting like they give a shit.
Always too damn nice.
-
It hits him, after he gets kicked out.
Hits him, suddenly, how badly he fucked it all up. How he took an opportunity that he didn’t deserve and pushed it away. Harley had wanted to be friends, had cared, whether Flash understood why or not, and Flash had been awkward and unsure and ruined everything.
He sits on the curb with a suitcase. Only one, because it’s all he had time to pack before being shoved harshly onto the streets.
Though he wants to, he doesn’t cry.
-
It’s a miracle that the number hasn’t changed.
It’s an even bigger miracle that Harley, apparently, never deleted his number after what happened, after obtaining it only because he had prompted Flash about wanting to join the Decathlon team and asked if he could text him questions about it later that day, before—
Well. Before, but after. Before Flash destroyed what he didn’t even gave, but after everything shifted, changed, began to hurt.
Miraculous doesn’t even begin to describe the slightly hopeful tone when Harley answers and, without hesitating, asks, “Flash? You there?”
Doesn’t deserve it—god, Flash should be getting spat on right now—but he needs it, now more than ever. Holding his phone tighter, he stammers out a shaky, “Y-Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?”
Maybe his voice gave it away. Maybe the fact that he’s reaching out at all. Maybe Harley just knows. Flash isn’t sure the how about it, only able to focus on making his tongue cooperate with him as he breathes out a broken kind of, “I’m sorry, I—about everything, but I—I have no one else to call and you were—the only one, y’know, who was—who was nice to me—”
There’s a faint jingle. “Where are you?”
“I don’t know,” Flash whispers, trying to blink through the tears that suddenly fill his eyes, swallowing roughly. “I just—I started walking, once it hit that I didn’t know where I should go, and I—fuck, I shouldn’t have called.”
“‘ey,” Harley says, tone—firm, angry. “I dunno what you’re thinkin’, but I’m the best person you could have called. I’m on my way, okay?”
Flash closes his eyes. “You shouldn’t.”
“Well,” Harley says, “I’m not turnin’ around.”
-
He doesn’t cry.
He doesn’t, untill Harley steps out of a car wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt that’s inside out. Then, of course, he sobs.
Then, of course, Harley cares, like he never should have, and hugs Flash.
Jesse is the only person who has ever hugged him. His mother, almost, when he was really young, but—but no one else. No one.
In Harley’s arms, he melts.
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DIABOLIK LOVERS Do-S Kyuuketsu VERSUS II Vol.1 Ayato VS Laito [Track 1+2]
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Original title: 月蝕のよる~total Eclipse~ & 蝕を背負って
Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS II Vol. 1 Ayato VS Laito [CD not owned by me]
Audio: Here & here
Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru & Hirakawa Daisuke
Translator’s note: I’m only two tracks into this CD but I’m already loving the tension between Ayato and Laito. I like how this CD seems to touch upon their personal childhood traumas with Cordelia and how they harbor a completely different feeling towards her. This played somewhat of a part in their respective More, Blood routes as well, so I’m really glad to find out more about it! That being said, they do use a lot of vague expressions when roasing each other, so I hope I got all of the hidden implications right.
Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 ll Track 6
→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!
Track 1: ~Total Eclipse~ of the Moon
Ayato: ...The moon is chipped. Tsk...!! No wonder I feel this restless inside...
You approach him.
Ayato: The lunar eclipse, huh...?
*Rustle*
Ayato: ...Ah? Chichinashi. Now this is new.
He turns around.
Ayato: What brings you here at this hour? Were you lured in by that moon as well? Hahaha...
You explain.
Ayato: Well yeah, makes sense. By this point, you’re basically one of us.
Ayato offers you a hand.
Ayato: Come here...I’m sure you know by now that resistin’ is absolutely futile?
*Rustle*
Ayato: Besides, I’m not in the mood for that right now...Come here!
You continue to protest, afraid he’ll suck your blood.
Ayato: Geez...Fuck...You really are a pain in the ass.
*Rustle*
Ayato: I’m not horny 24/7, you know? And here I thought I’d actually show you somethin’ nice. 
You frown.
Ayato: What’s with that expression? Are you disappointed or somethin’? Haha...!
Ayato suddenly lifts you into his arms.
*Rustle rustle*
Ayato: Heavy-hoh...! You don’t see this kind of nice view every day, so let’s take the opportunity to watch it from up close.
He launches himself into the air, eventually landing on the roof.
*WOOSH*
*Thud*
Ayato: ...There we go. We’ve reached our destination.
*Rustle*
Ayato: Chichinashi, follow me. Let’s go that way.
You seem scared.
Ayato: ...Ah? Are you shakin’ on your legs? What? You’re scared of bein’ up on the roof? Geez, what a drag...Come on, hold onto me.
You seem hesitant.
Ayato: What? I won’t try and pull anythin’ funny, promised. ...Honestly, I’m out here showin’ my good heart and that’s the reaction I get in return?
*Rustle*
Ayato: More importantly, look up at the moon! It’s chipped! Hahaha! Surprised?
You mention the lunar eclipse.
Ayato: I figured I’d show you since it’s a rare occurrence, but you know about it? Che...! Yeah, it’s a lunar eclipse. I don’t know ‘bout the details, but you barely get to witness one, right?
You thank him for trying to please you.
Ayato: Aah!? I wasn’t tryin’ to make you happy or anythin’! Don’t be so full of yourself! ...It’s just that the lunar eclipse makes us Vampires go crazy. How do I put it - it makes our feelings and actions unstable - to the point of madness. I guess you could say it shakes us up? I don’t quite know how to describe this feeling...
You seem somewhat worried.
Ayato: Well, that might be why I’m a lil’ kind to you, or why I brought you up here to the roof. 
You ask if he needs to rest for a bit.
Ayato: Ah? I don’t feel sick or anything. I just feel oddly restless inside...It’s a weird kind of feeling. 
*Rustle*
Ayato: So, how do you feel? Well, you’re not a Vampire...But, is that truly the case? Don’t you ask yourself that question at times as well? That perhaps, you’ve longーー
He leans in close.
*Rustle rustle*
Ayato: ーー Become a Vampire.
Your eyes widen in horror.
Ayato: ...Hahaha! Nice reaction! I mean, it makes sense when you think about it. You’ve been teased by these fangs countless of times, being toyed around with, becoming mine...It wouldn’t be strange if you had awakened by this point.
You tell him to stop messing with you.
Ayato: I’m not tryin’ to scare you. It’s the truth, isn’t it?
Ayato pins you down.
*Rustle*
*Thud*
Ayato: Honestly, even if you were to be a Vampire by this point, there’s nothin’ to be scared of, right? 
You shake your head.
Ayato: Vampire or human, it’s pretty much the same thing. As you can tell, our appearance is barely any different. 
*Rustle*
Ayato: The difference is that we suck blood. Also...Well, we just have a few powers here and there, you see?
You insist you’re not a Vampire either way.
Ayato: Yet it still scares you?
He moves closer to your face.
*Rustle*
Ayato: Say, Chichinashi...? ...Even if you were to become a Vampire, I’d still...
Track 2: Bearing the Burden of the Eclipse
Laito: Nfufufu~ Fufufufu...~!
Ayato: ...!!
Laito: Oh geez~ A love scene up on the rooftop? You’re more of a romantic than I thought, Ayato-kun~
Ayato: Laito...!!
Laito: Exactly, the one and only~ ...My bad for interrupting? 
Ayato: Che...Why the fuck are you here!?
Laito: There’s no deep reasoning behind it. Well, like you mentioned earlier, the lunar eclipse might have lured me out here. Fufu~ It messes with our heads a little, you see? So it wouldn’t be that strange for me to be lost in my own thoughts up here on the roof, no? Nfu~ I’m glad it gave me a chance at seeing that romantic side of yours which you usually keep hidden. Fufu...Look, it’s even making the moon flush a bright red. Fufufufu~
Ayato: You bastard...Are you makin’ fun of me!?
Laito: Hmー Not quite...If I had to put it into words, I guess you could say...I’m jealous?
Ayato: Haah...!?
Laito: Because Bitch-chan’s cheeks have become this flushed as she watches you with eyes full of passion...I guess~
You become even more flustered.
Laito: ...Say, Bitch-chan? I’m pretty sure this uncertain feeling inside of me is what you’d call jealousy. What do you think?
You tell him to stop teasing.
Laito: Fufu~ ...I’m not teasing you or anything? You are such a cruel girl. I wonder why you’re doubting my feelings? ...Being honest would make you much cuter, you know? Or at least pretend to be fooled by me. ...Oh, whoopsie~ I blew my own cover. Nfu~ ...However, I really do feel restless inside. I wasn’t lying when I said this might be jealousy either.
Laito leans in, whispering in your ear.
Laito: ...The thought of Ayato-kun stealing you away from me pisses me off. Furthermore, I’d love to just turn you into a mess right here, right now.
Ayato: Oi! You’re fuckin’ annoyin’! Showin’ up out of nowhere...
*Rustle*
Ayato: Just scram already!
Laito: Eeeh~? What if I say ‘no’?
Ayato: Then I’ll push you off this roof!
Laito: Big talk for someone who can’t even do that. ...That technique has already been claimed by me after all. 
Ayato: Che...You’re talkin’ ‘bout that shitty Old Hag? Honestly...Will you ever be able to forget her? 
Laito: Ugh...!
Ayato: Hahaha! What? Did I hit bull’s eye?
Laito: You decide to bring that back up at this exact timing, huh? Ayato-kun.
Ayato: Haah? You’re the one who staーー
Laito suddenly attacks Ayato.
*Rustle*
Laito: ...Fuck off! 
Ayato: ...! ...Kuh...
Laito: Do you think you’re in any position...To mock me like that?
Ayato: ...Aah!?
Ayato fights back.
*Rustle rustle*
*Thud*
Ayato: Whatcha mean...!?
You try to get in between them.
Laito: Oh...
Ayato: You’re in the way, Chichinashi! Stay out of this!
Laito: Fufufu~ You’re such a gentleman, Ayato-kun~ You’re scared she’ll get hurt from getting involved in our brotherly quarrel, aren’t you?
Ayato: Kuh...That’s not it! I just simply thought she was in the way, that’s all!
Laito: Hm...In that caseーー
*THUD*
Ayato: ...!!
Laito creeps up on you.
Laito: ...You wouldn’t mind if I were to hurt her, do you? Like this...
He bites you.
Laito: Mmh...
*Gulp gulp gulp*
Ayato: ...Ugh. You bastard...!!
Ayato grabs him by the collar.
*Rustle*
Ayato: Cut the crap!!
*THUD*
Laito: ...Ah!
Ayato: Keep your dirty hands off what belongs to me.
Laito: Look at you go...However, my blood is boiling right now as well...Ugh!
*THUD*
Laito: ...Owow. Geez, it’s been a while since I went all out like that. My hat’s crooked. Better fix it~ ...There we go.
*Rustle*
Ayato: ...That hurt. Whatcha gettin’ all worked up by yourself, huh?
Laito: Hmm~? I guess we can blame the lunar eclipse for that? Seems like I just couldn’t let your words from earlier slide. It’s rather upsetting how you keep on insisting that I still haven’t parted with that dead woman.
You grab hold of Laito’s arm.
Ayato: ...Ah!
Laito: Hm? What’s wrong, Bitch-chan? Are you telling us to stop fighting? ...But you know, I believe there’s times where you have to keep on going until the score is settled. 
Ayato: Hehe...I agree with that.
Laito: Nfu...~ What a coincidence.
Ayato: We can just decide who is the strongest by pure force and whoever wins get to keep that woman for themselves!
Laito: Makes you wonder which one of us is unable to move on...Fufu~
Ayato: ...Haah? What did you say just now?
Laito: Nfu~ I was just talking to myself. ...Well then, the moon has been chipped nicely. Shall we get started?
Ayato: Yeah! Bring it on!
You stand in between them, begging the two to stop.
Laito: Oh dear, oh dear~ How heroic of you, Bitch-chan! However, only fools get in the way of a fight between two men, you know?
Ayato: Exactly. Step back, Chichinashi.
Laito: Who knows what we’ll do because of this moon after all.
You shake your head.
Ayato: Aahn? What was that, Chichinashi? We’re not fightin’ ‘cause the moon is messin’ with our heads. 
Laito: Exactly, Bitch-chan. The lunar eclipse simply provides a perfect opportunity.  We’ve been unable to bridge the gap between us since forever. Up till now, we’ve simply chosen to constantly turn a blind eye to it, running away. Right, Ayato-kun?
Ayato: Kuh...!
Laito: I just figured it might be time for us brothers to stop running and face each other head on. Nfu~
Ayato: Che...You’re too damn persistent. Go stand over there!
*Rustle*
You lose your balance and slide down the roof.
Laito: ...Woah!
Ayato: ...Chichinashi!? What are you doin’...!? 
Laito: What do you mean? You’re the one who pushed her away too harshy, so she slipped and nearly tumbled down the roof!
Ayato: Che...Fuck off! 
*Rustle*
Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! Don’t you dare let go! I’ll save you!
Ayato reaches out for you.
*Rustle*
Ayato: Come on, grab my hand!
Laito: Now who is the one responsible for this in the first place, huh? ...Are you okay, Bitch-chan? Instead of going for that brute over here...
Laito holds out his hand as well.
*Rustle*
Laito: You should take my hand instead.
Ayato: Shut up! Come on, Chichinashi! This way!
Laito: I’m stronger than you’d expect, so you can rest assured and entrust your body to me, Bitch-chan~
Ayato: Hurry up...!!
The wind picks up.
Ayato: ...This is bad!
You lose your grip and nearly fall to your death.
Ayato: Che...It’s ‘cause you kept on takin’ yer damn sweet time!
*Rustle rustle*
*Thud*
Ayato jumps down, catching you just in time.
Ayato: ...That was close. Don’t scare me like that!
Laito: Ayato-kuuun~ Is Bitch-chan alright~? 
He puts you down.
*Rustle*
Ayato: Che...Oi, Chichinashi. Come with me.
Ayato grabs hold of your hand.
Ayato: I’m sick and tired of havin’ to deal with that guy.
He runs away with you.
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
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packsbeforesnacks · 4 years
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This is Side One || Ariana & Winn
TIMING: Tuesday, June 2nd, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: Winn’s car. PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn picks Ariana up to have a night watchin’ stars at the cabin. On the car ride over, the two have a conversation about grief, and about the future for Ariana and the pack. WARNINGS: Depression and grief, sibling death mentioned (Celeste). SOUNDTRACK: “Dead on Arrival” by Fall Out Boy
Although she was still a little bit upset at Winn for not giving a warning that he was leaving town, Ariana knew she didn’t want to hold a grudge against him forever. Celeste’s death had been a reminder of just how fragile life was. It was better to hear him out now and work towards getting back to being good again. She’d always considered other wolves family in a sense, even Salva who pissed her off to no end, but now it felt more important to cherish that bond. To hold on to the people she cared about and never let go. She’d given Morgan and Deirdre a wave before heading out the door, backpack in tow, in the same leggings and soccer team t-shirt she’d worn the last two days. She’d been sitting on the steps, weight pressed back in her palms, staring up at the sky until she saw Winn’s car stopping in front of the house. She slowly pushed herself off the step and dragged herself toward the car. Moving in general still took about all the energy she had it in her to muster. She let herself in the car and greeted, “Hey, I’m glad you’re back.” She lightly punched his arm. “Now no leaving town again without telling me, okay?”
A lot had gone on in Winn’s absence, but nothing really made him feel worse than not bein’ able to be there for Ariana in her time of need. He couldn’t have known — or… well, he could have known. Had he just fixed his damn phone, not felt like he had the luxury of waitin’. He knew about the bounty. He should’ve been prepared. But he knew, now. Knew he wouldn’t do that again, knew that his pack, because… well, they were, now, deserved at least a heads-up next time. Noah, most of all, but… well, Ariana and Layla were next down. “I’m glad to be back,” Winn agreed as Ari hopped in the car. “Now, tell me whatcha want for food, nothin’ is too extravagant. And I am not,” Winn added, because it was his lot in life now, “tryin’ to bribe you, I promise. Just worried y’all don’t eat when I’m not around, it’s the southern in me.” He turned the music down a skosh, giving Ari a once over. It didn’t seem, like, great to tell her she looked a bit shit, given the circumstances, but Winn did kinda want to throw her into a shower and give her the fluffiest pajamas. So, there was that. “Um, so,” was there a good way to start this? probably not, “for what it’s worth, I am sorry. For makin’ y’all worry. And for fightin’ Blanche without, like, at least a referee-wolf there. Or in human form. Or somethin’.” He grimaced. “I’m the pack dummy.”
As pissed off as she had been, Ariana was glad to have Winn back in town. More importantly, he was safe. She wasn’t sure she could handle losing someone else right now. It already felt as if somehow gravity’s pull on her became stronger and kept her laying on the ground most of the time when she hadn’t been at school finishing exams. Even when she tried to get up and move, she somehow kept finding herself back on the floor, just staring off trying to cling to her favorite memories in hopes they’d never slip away. She’d been so worried when Winn ran off, that seeing him had washed a huge wave of relief over her. And of course he was trying to feed her. They hadn’t gotten too much of a chance to hang out, but it was pretty much guaranteed that every time they did he was making sure she was well-fed. She forced a weak smile and answered, “How about cheeseburgers? Didn’t think you were. I already forgave you, no bribes necessary.” Her appetite had been pretty nonexistent, so she figured one of her favorite comfort foods would help. Plus, if she knew Winn at all, he’d be pretty set on making sure he was fed. He was caring like that, or at least, he always seemed to be with her. Her grin came a little more naturally when he mentioned being the pack dummy. She chided, “Hey now, you don’t get a monopoly on that one. It’s a title we get to pass around, but yeah, don’t do that again. I don’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to you or Blanche.”
“Mmm. I know just the place for burgers. Let’s ride, kiddo.” Winn turned the key, his car wheezing and coughing back to life. It would be just about his luck for it to give up the ghost (inappropriate?) when he really needed it. Just get me home, okay? His dad had nagged him to replace the car after it had just barely made their trip back up from Philly. Winn really didn’t know how to react to parental nagging, given he’d gone without it for nearly a decade, but his dad was comin’ from a good place. And he was the one havin’ to drive the car most often lately, so Winn couldn’t truly be mad. He swung towards the Outskirts, knowin’ that he and Rio had destroyed some burgers from the joint on the way out of town. Winn wasn’t proud of the way that he’d grabbed dinner from there throughout April and May — and his dad had been appalled at the lack of basics in his fridge, another reason why Winn needed to move out — but it really was that good. Perfect amount of grease. Killer milkshakes. Knew how to make actual sweet tea. “Don’t worry. I won’t. And we won’t.” It felt like a half-promise. Livin’ in White Crest, Winn never felt safe tellin’ someone that he’d be okay. Not forever, not even for a day or two, dependin’ on the week. He spoke quietly, takin’ his eyes off the road probably longer than was strictly safe, to look at Ari. “I get if you don’t wanna talk ‘bout it, but… losin’ someone, ‘specially someone special to you… Well, I don’t want to tell you how to feel. So, how ‘bout you tell me how you feel? If you’re, um, up for it.”
Ariana did her best to focus on Winn’s company rather than the crushed feeling that just couldn’t seem to leave her chest. It felt as if her heart had been trampled on and was left heavier for it. It weighed down her every move, but if she shifted focus long enough, she was sure she could work up an appetite. She cracked a weak smile and joked, “I trust you know your meat.” It made her feel just a little better that Winn would be more careful. She could only hope Blanche would do the same. “Good,” she said, plainly. Not having the energy to push the topic any further. She originally planned on giving him a good smack and giving him some shit about the whole thing, but she was tired and it was pretty obvious he realized the whole thing was a dumb idea now. With the mention of how she was feeling, a clear grimace went across her face. Her lungs felt as if the wind had been knocked out of them as her mind searched for her words. She knew Winn asked that genuinely, but fuck, did talking about it really suck. Not that thinking about it was much better and it had been most of what she’d done outside of finals and the few distractions that could hold her attention if only for a few moments. She looked down at her lap and finally answered, “Honestly? Really fucking shitty.” With another deep breath, she looked to him and then back at the road ahead of them, “Sad. Mad. Empty. You name it. Everything just feels so wrong. We were supposed—” Her voice cracked and she realized this is why talking about it felt so hard. “We were supposed to enjoy freedom together. She never— She deserved better.”
Winn was at a loss for what to say. He couldn’t make it better, this wasn’t a problem that could be smoothed over with money or smooth-talking. Only time. “I don’t have any platitudes for you. I won’t disrespect you by sayin’ that it’ll get better, or that she would have wanted you to be happy. That don’t fix shit.” He sighed. “I will say this, what I’ll always say to you: You have to feel what you feel. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But you can’t keep it inside either. Freedom is…” Okay, this was either going to go well or terribly. “Freedom ain’t just about bein’ free from the shit that’s tryin’ to kill you. It’s mental, too. I— I don’t understand what you’re going through; I can’t understand. But I can tell you that wrappin’ yourself up in ‘supposed’ to isn’t going to help you. I spent a really long time convincin’ myself that I knew what other folks wanted, that I should do x, y, or z, because it was what I was supposed to do. Be a good son, let people go, make it so they didn’t have to worry about me. But that isn’t what they wanted, and that isn’t what mattered. All it did was wrap around me, until the guilt was all that I was. I mean, shit, I’m still workin’ through it, but I don’t want that for you, Ariana. If I can help it. Celeste did deserve better. God, there are so many fuckin’ ways in which she, in which you, in which all of us deserve better than the shit hands we’ve been dealt. Only thing we can change is how we play that hand. Foldin’ ain’t an option, but that don’t mean you have to go all in. Take the time you need, I guess, is what I’m tryin’ to say. Don’t let anybody tell you — hell, even me — how to grieve, or process, or move forward. So long as you know that… Well, so long as you know that we still have to play the game. We’re already breakin’ the rules, just by still bein’ here. And those rules need to be broken. ‘Cause fuck ‘em. Fuck all of it. ‘Cause life ain’t actually a game, and who cares if you win. So long as you’re following your own path, that’s all that… anyone can hope for you.” He coughed, hands squeezing at the steering wheel as they pulled through the drivethrough. After he ordered, he added, “Sorry, I got a little carried away. Just… Don’t feel like you have to pretend, not around me.”
As much as the whole conversation made her stomach turn, Ariana knew he was right in many regards. She’d never been one to avoid her feelings, but feeling her way through this? It was hell. It’d been four days since she’d seen or spoken to Celeste and each one of them felt impossibly long. Her hands were clasped together in her lap as her head was still pressed against the cool glass of the window. “I don’t know, like I am just kind of feeling through this whole thing and trying to accept what I’m feeling, it’s just hard. And I can’t really think too much past each minute as it passes because if I try to look ahead it just feels… wrong. Like we had all these plans for the future and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to just, I don’t even know, figure out what I want with my future now?” She listened as Winn spoke and couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes. They did all deserve better, especially Celeste, but that wasn’t how the world worked. It even seemed disproportionate at that. Like somehow by just being wolves, hunters, or even remotely associated with the supernatural, there was more darkness to overcome. She nodded slowly and shakily replied, “I know. I guess supposed to doesn’t really exist. If things were supposed to be some way they just would be. It just— Nothing feels right. I don’t feel right. I’m sad, I’m mad, I’m lost— Everything feels just like this huge weight that makes it so much harder to do even simple things like take a fucking shower. And I miss her, I miss her so fucking much. I miss hearing her constantly humming some stupid ABBA song. I miss the way she’d tussle my hair when we’d joke around. I miss the sound of her voice and even miss her soft snores that I’d always make fun of.” She sniffled and her voice sounded desperate as she spoke as she spoke as if it would change anything at all. She tried to smile as Winn told her to feel free to not pretend for him or anyone else, but it came off as a pained grimace at best. “I know, I don’t have to be anything for anyone and there’s no right way to deal with this. Everything just feels so— I don’t know heavy. Wrong. Lost. Take your pick.”
“You don’t have to have an answer,” Winn said, tucking the takeout bag behind his seat before pulling out onto the road. “To your future, to your feelings.” There was a milkshake — raspberry lemon — in his hand, and he offered it to Ariana. “It’s... not much, I know. But when we got burgers, that first time, you told me how much you liked these. I tried one, grimaced through the lemon and raspberry, not really my thing. But it reminds me of you. Not sour, not cloyingly sweet. Strong and tart and someone’s favorite flavor, somewhere. A lot of folks’, probably. I’m not... good at metaphors, but we all find our favorite flavors, our people. And we hold ‘em tight. Because we don’t know how long they’ll be there. No one knows.” A sad smile as he turned his attention back to the road. “I love you, kiddo. Ariana. And I’m here for you. You’re one of my favorite flavors.”
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knock me the fuck out (i dare ya, babe), finale
Weep with me tears of joy and fulfillment for this soft boy and his cuddly boyfriend.
i have some more thoughts about this universe that i may or not get to, but they aren't really relevant to the story i wanted to tell here, so those will have to be for another tale :D
part one, part two, part three
(if you’d prefer to read this in Ao3′s format, click here)
Billy is deliciously warm, deliciously relaxed and deeply asleep when the phone rings on the table beside the bed. He gives a displeased grunt and buries his face into the pillow as Steve rolls away from him to pick up the call, hoarsely croaking “’ello?” There’s a pause as he listens to the caller, then surprises Billy by tapping him on the shoulder. “For you, Billy.”
What the fuck? He mumbles a confused “Hello?”
“I’m so sorry.” Max sounds as tired as he is, maybe more. “But Lauren refuses to go to sleep – I told her that you’d be back in the morning, but it’s already almost midnight, and the more tired she is, the more upset she gets. Can you please talk to her for just a few minutes?”
“Yeah,” he slurs. “’a course. Lemme get up first so we ain’t talking in Steve’s ear while he’s tryin’ to sleep.”
“Oh my god,” Max says miserable and guilty, repeating “I’m so sorry, Billy.”
“No, no, no – it’s okay,” Gently, he closes the door behind him, thankful that Steve owns a cordless phone and trying not to walk into a wall. “I shoulda knew she’d bug out if I didn’t come home.”
Max murmurs “Lauren, Uncle Billy wants to talk to you.”
His whole heart breaks – Lulu is sucking in air hard, sobbing quietly. Poor Max must’ve been trying to get her to sleep for hours. “Hey, my girl. Why won’t you let Mommy tuck you in?”
“Wh-wh-why did you leave?!” she wails, sorrow all renewed.
“I didn’t leave you, baby. I’m having a sleepover with my friend, I’ll be back tomorrow. Mommy told you that, right?”
In a tiny voice, Lulu replies, “Yes.”
“I’m never gonna leave you without saying goodbye, Lulu,” he says softly. “I promise. Who’s my girl?”
“I-I am,” she hiccups, but she sounds a few shades calmer now.
“That’s right. And it’s gonna snow tomorrow, so I thought I’d take my girl out to make a snowman,” he says solemnly. “But we can’t do that if you’re too tired to play outside, Lulu. Can you lay down and close your eyes for me?”
“Don’t hang up!” she says, a bit frantic, and Billy feels another tug on his heartstrings.
“Won’t hang up, baby. Close your eyes for me and lay down. Okay? Lulu, skip to my Lu. Lulu, skip to my Lu. Lulu, skip to my Lu. Skip to my Lu, my darlin’…”
He has to stay with her, and sing to her, for he doesn’t know how long. He won’t leave until he’s sure that she won’t feel abandoned and there’s a period of calm before Max whispers “She’s asleep now. Thank you so much, Billy.”
She sounds close to tears herself. She’s probably been up since four or five o’clock this morning and as it turns out, Lulu isn’t the only girl with a piece of his heart. “Sweet dreams, little sister.”
“Sweet dreams, big brother.” Max sniffles.
Billy stumbles back toward the bedroom and finds Steve basically doing what he was doing for Lulu, except that Steve is singing his song to his fucking cat, a dark blob resting on his stomach as he pets her, scratching her around the ears and beneath her chin. “With no lovin’ in our souls, and no money in our clothes, you can’t say we’re satisfied…”
His voice is a beautiful purr, husky with sleep, warm and loving to an animal that Steve obviously cares about.
Billy is leveled like the Starcourt fucking Mall.
He blurts out, “You’re gettin’ the words wrong. It’s ‘coats’, not ‘clothes’.”
Fuckin’ smooth, Hargrove. Real fuckin’ smooth.
“Mmkay,” Steve says serenely, eyes closed. “It sounds better my way.”
Anything coming out of your mouth sounds better. “Yeah, it kinda does, doesn’t it?”
As he slides back underneath the covers, Angie gets annoyed with them moving around the bed and hops off to wander back out of the room, tail held high. Steve curls around him, humming contentedly under his breath. Steve’s nose brushes along his neck, breathing inward, and Billy feels like he’s gonna die, because this much happiness at once just can’t be good for you. His mouth has gone dry.
Steve gives another contented hum, wrapping an arm around his waist and a leg around his hips. His hand, resting at Billy’s heart, caresses down the scarred skin and muscle to rest near the waistband of his boxers, and Steve’s thumb leisurely strokes up and down his lower belly, through the trail of hair leading down to his crotch. He murmurs against Billy’s skin “I never get this.”
“Hm. I hope I’d remembered getting you to feel me up,” Billy replies, grinning at the quiet darkness.
“No.” He feels Steve grin against his shoulder, which is…just…the best feeling. “A bed. Talking. Just…letting me kiss you.”
“Letting you,” Billy repeats, a bit sarcastically. “It’s become my cross to bear.”
Steve lightly bites him on the shoulder, and Billy can feel the way his mouth still stretches around a smile. “Okay, you know what I’m saying here.”
“Yeah, I guess I do. But ain’t no hardship, sweetheart.” He squeezes Steve’s hand, and he’s silent for long enough that Billy asks, “What’chu thinkin’ about, Stevie?”
Steve sighs, low and sweet, fingers still petting at his belly. “Billy Hargrove thinks I’ve got heartbreaker’s eyes. I’m thinking ‘bout that.”
“You do,” he whispers, earnest, heart in his throat. “Took your sunglasses off and I see these big brown eyes – and my soul left my fuckin’ body, Steve, I swear. I remember-” Billy swallows, and part of him can go back to that scared, raging, confused boy. “I remember thinking that it wasn’t fair, that no boy should be able to break my heart with just eyes.”
Steve laughs, ducking his face into Billy’s neck sheepishly, even though Billy can’t see him anyway. His skin is hot against his own, lashes like the flutter of his butterfly wings over his skin, making his heart thud harder. “You are a real romantic. I never get that, either.”
Billy snorts, but he can’t really deny it. “It’s too bad, y’know. Cause you’re pretty good at this part, darlin’. Where the hell is my lullaby, though?”
Steve pets his skin some more, slow and lazy, and Billy thinks that maybe he’s already falling asleep-
“Which way you goin’, Billy? Can I go, too?” he croons, fingertips warm and gentle on his skin, petting his abdomen and stroking along the tendons of his neck, lips warm and whisper soft upon his skin. “Which way you goin’, Billy? Can I go with you? You are my whole, babe, my heart and soul, babe. I’d have nothing to show, babe, if you go away…”
He’s got chills running up and down his spine, even though his face and chest feel hot and feverish. Billy’s dying, he’s dying, because he knows now that his love was never wasted on this boy. “Who’s the real romantic?” he whispers hoarsely, relaxing his weight back against Steve’s body. “You’re sweet, Stevie.”
“You’re not fooling me,” he murmurs back and kisses beneath his ear, soft and wet. Billy shudders. “You are, too.”
He takes Steve’s hand, smooth from a life of finger-paint and glitter-glue, and presses his mouth to the palm. “Gotta keep that our special secret, darlin’.”
Sleepily, Steve says “Ain’t a secret, baby.”
---
Steve spends a week just sort of walking on fucking air.
“What’s up, buddy?” Steve doesn’t even bother to ask who it is – Dustin calls him at five o’clock on the dot, every Monday. “Excited to finish up your midterms and come home for a little while?”
“Yeah, I’m going straight to a study group as soon we’re done.” He sounds as cheerful as he ever is, but by now, Steve is also intimately familiar with what he sounds like when he’s tired, too.
“Okay, but try to make sure you get enough rest,” Steve says, holding the phone on his ear with his shoulder as he lifts Angie onto his lap. “You’re smarter when you’ve slept longer than four hours a night, buddy.”
“Yeah, I know.” Then, a little less cheerfully, “So, uh…how are you feeling?”
Steve frowns. Had he been sick the last time he talked to Dustin? He didn’t think so… “Uh…fine? Why?”
“Well, you know…the ten year anniversary is coming up,” Dustin says awkwardly. He sounds distinctly like he’s also frowning now. Unhappy. “And like…I get worried about you, and stuff.”
“Dustin…”
“-and you always say you’re fine, even when you’re definitely not fine…”
“…pal…”
“Robin says you’re okay, which I guess is good but…”
“Dustin.”
“-it’s not the same as be able to see for myself…”
“Dude, seriously-”
“And you’re lonely, man, the people there treat you like shit!”
“DUSTIN!” Steve says loudly, scaring poor Angie right off his lap. “…I have a boyfriend.”
He says the words before really thinking about them and all of their implications. Dustin lets out this hilarious little ‘eep!’ before shrieking “Oh my god, really?!” like he’s suddenly sixteen again and asking Steve how two men have sex, in the technical sense, and jeez-
Steve really misses him, feels his eyes sting. “Yeah. I mean…it’s a new thing, but we’ve already gone on a few dates and it’s going pretty well.”
“Really? Okay, well, what’s he like?!” Dustin asks impatiently.
“Uh, well…” Nervously, Steve wishes that he hadn’t bought a cordless phone. His fingers have nothing to play with in moment like these. “You sort of already know him…Or, I guess, knew him, would be the better way to put it.”
Exasperated, Dustin says, out of the blue, “Oh my god, if it’s Tommy Hall, Steve, I know he had a crush on you, but you can do way better-”
“What?! No, Tommy Hall didn’t-what the fuck, who gave you that idea?”
“Robin,” he says, with an obvious ‘duh’ at the end.
“What the fuck?!” Steve repeats, this time at a volume that makes Angie cower under the coffee table. “Oh Ang, I’m sorry, baby – c’mon. Daddy’s sorry.”
Apologetically, Dustin explains “She told me and Erica not to tell you, because she didn’t wanna out Tommy to you even though she was pretty sure he wanted to fuck you. Then after your crisis, we agreed he wasn’t good enough for you.” Steve feels a sudden headache coming on, because this entire scenario has ‘Scoops Troop’ written all over it in big bold letters. “If it’s not Tommy Hall, then who?”
“Billy. Max’s Billy.”
There is a pause before Dustin asks “…is he okay now?”
The thing about Dust is that he’s so outwardly goofy that it’s easy to forget that he’s so smart, and he’s so smart that it’s easy to forget that he’s so empathetic. “Yeah, he’s okay now. He grew up a lot more when he went back to California.”
“Is he nice?” It���s less a question and more a demand.
“He’s really nice,” Steve says honestly, finally coaxing Angie back onto his lap after earning her forgiveness. “And he’s more…patient now. More relaxed. I think Lauren might be his best friend – he calls her Lulu, and I see him every morning when he drops her off. He um…he works for El.”
Jane Hopper is something of a…not exactly a sore spot for Dustin, but mentioning her tends to make him droop like a wilting daisy. They are not close and probably never will be. Steve used to think Dust was exaggerating when he said that Eleven didn’t like him, but she tends to shut down in one on one conversations with him, and she’ll do just about anything to avoid being left in a room alone with him.
Steve doesn’t really think that it’s because El straight up doesn’t like him, he thinks that it’s more of a matter of a sheltered person like El not quite knowing how to deal with a personality as loud and attention-grabbing as Dustin’s could be. That reaction crushes his self-confidence though, so the Scoops Troop try not to bring her up, and Steve tries to do El the courtesy of not overwhelming her too often.
“Oh good, Mike was just telling me she was getting busy enough to start needing help,” Dustin says neutrally. There was a pause, and then, more quietly, he asks “Is Max doing okay?”
It’s a little weird, because even though they’re all the same age, Max kind of had to grow up the faster, because while the others were thinking about the end of their freshman year of college, Max was giving birth and dealing with a marriage and a mortgage. “I think she’s excited to have Billy back in town – he’s hinted that she was having a bit of financial trouble before he got here.”
“So, you don’t think that she and Justin will be getting back together?”
Steve sighs, irritated. “If Lucas wants to make me a spy, the least he could do is ask me the questions himself.”
“That’s not a yes,” Dust coaxes. “Just yes or no, I refused to ask you anything else.”
“No, I’m pretty much sure that if he comes back to town, Max will be asking to borrow the nail bat.”
“Hm, there’s a long line for that. Can you pick me up from the station?”
“Uh-huh. Eight o’lock on the 30th, right?”
“Right.” Dust sighs, and again Steve’s heart gives a painful pang at hearing how tired he sounds. “Sorry, it’s time for my study group. Love you, Steve.”
“Love ya, kid.”
---
He has way more work to do now, since Robin insists that the original bet was for only a make-out session and he kind of ended up with a boyfriend, so she gleefully dumped upon him all of the quizzes she gave before the students began spring break, including the twenty page midterms she made them do. He didn’t have to grade the three page essays at the end but that still left seventeen pages to mark through forty-five times.
Despite the stack of paperwork in front of him, Steve’s still got a huge grin on his face as he sits across from Robin in the diner and lifts his coffee mug. Dazed, he says “I’ve got a boyfriend.”
He can’t say it too loud, that’s inviting trouble on himself that he doesn’t need, but he can’t hold it in.
Robin looks up, threads of hair escaping from her messy bun, and smirks at him, but her eyes are enormous and warm. “Yeah, you do.” Setting down her pen and flexing her fingers, Rob rests her chin on her hand. “And you still haven’t given me any details on dates number two and three.”
Steve’s brain helpfully provides him with the dreamy vision of both of those.
Date number two was a pool house in Evansville, drinking beer, talking trash at each other that was at least half flirting, and finding reasons to brush up against Billy in public, until Billy stood behind him as he was making a shot and growled in his ear, “Get in the fuckin’ car, darlin’. Gonna bite you where you like it.”
They steamed up the windows of the Impala that was the Camaro’s spiritual successor, and Billy pulled him on his lap, yanked opened the buttons on his shirt and assaulted Steve’s chest – pinched, kissed, sucked, and yes bit him, until Steve had his hands braced on the roof to keep himself grounded in a world that kept spinning, and cried “Oh fuck, Billy, stop, I’m gonna come.”
“Mm, I don’t hear a downside anywhere in there. Lemme get you off, heartbreaker.”
Right there in the driver’s seat, Steve’s head thrown back and mouth wide open as he tugged frantically on Billy’s shortened hair, coming without a hand ever touching his dick because he had Billy’s groaning mouth sucking at his nipples. Limbs shaking, Steve shoved his hand down the front of his pants and jerked Billy off with sharp rotations of his wrist, kissing all over his face, his neck, his chest. “Baby, baby,” he murmured, nipping at Billy’s neck. “Look at me.”
Billy’s eyes were the blue of distant oceans, like he kept a part of California in him wherever he went. Steve whispered “Fuck, Billy, you’re beautiful” and suddenly his fingers were soaked with come, Billy staring up at him in stunned rapture, like Steve was the sun and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.
Date three was Billy making California-style tacos for him (he had no idea that avocados were so delicious, what the hell!) and then watched Stand By Me, the Friday night movie on tv, head on Billy’s shoulder while he explained how Stephen King basically ripped off The Party’s life story, minus Maxine and Eleven.
Billy looked so startled when Steve started groping him on the sofa. There were sometimes moments that Billy really seemed to think that Steve was some kind of stuck-up prude, when he looked absolutely flabbergasted that Steve was as into this as he was, could be as aggressive as he was.
“Bed?” Billy asked in his ear, grinding down against him, his hands squeezing Steve by the hips. Thick, throbbing against him, making Steve’s mouth water and his heart beat three times faster. His belly was wet with pre-come, smeared all over his skin, burning hot where their skin met.
Steve had his teeth clenched together, trying not to shout so loudly that all his neighbors knew his guest’s name was Billy. He grabbed Billy by the upper arms and squeezed hard, sweating and arching his hips into his every motion, thighs tightened around his hips. “Billy, if you stop right now, I swear I’ll kill you.”
“Yeah?” The dummy was so surprised. “Getting close, heartbreaker?”
Sometimes, Billy still seemed surprised that Steve even reacted to him, like he was an untouchable statue. My ice princess. But he was flesh and he was blood, and it scared him, how much he wanted Billy to touch him. How bewildered he felt at the sight of Billy lying next to him in the morning, face down in the pillow.
He’d show him a goddamn ice princess.
“Give it to me good, baby, c’mon,” he moaned, and Billy bucked faster, breathed harder. Steve could feel his arms shake and smiled against his mouth. Raking his nails down his back, Steve slid his hands beneath the back of Billy’s boxers and got two handfuls of his ass, rasping “That’s it, like you mean it. Fuck, don’t stop, Billy. Right there! Baby-baby-!”
“Steve-o, earth to Steve-o!” Robin sing-songs. “What planet did you land on, dingus? Care to share with the class?”
He waves her off. “You don’t want to hear all the sweaty, manly details, Rob…”
She watches him drift off, pale skin flushing warm and vivid. “Oh my god, what’s that face for? What did you do?!”
Blushing like a schoolgirl, Steve hides his face. “After the boning, he made me hot chocolate and we spent three hours cuddling on the couch!”
“Oh my god, Steve, leave it to you to get embarrassed by the high school romance bits,” Robin is laughing at him, loud and happy. “What a dingus!”
Despite her laughter, Rob is practically glowing. Has Steve’s new relationship really made her this happy? With a bit of a whine to his tone, Steve says, “Well it’s not like I haven’t done the other parts before! I didn’t even know Billy wanted to do the sappy shit!”
She clicked her tongue, grinning fondly. “You love it.”
“I do,” he admits, bashful. “He’s all…romantic and stuff. Y’know.”
“And stuff? Come on, you can give me better details than that.” Steve can’t manage to do anything but blush harder and Rob smiles like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, that good, huh? I bet he brings you breakfast in bed and calls you pet names.”
Steve is hiding a smile behind his fingers, a lost and awed expression in his eyes. “Heartbreaker.”
“Hm?”
“He calls me sweetheart, and darlin’, and-and heartbreaker.” Self-conscious with himself, Steve buries his head in his arms and moans, “Oh god, please don’t make me say anything else.”
“That’s ridiculous and I love it,” Robin replies, with an enormous grin.
“Buckley, why are you torturin’ my guy?” Neither of them heard Billy walk into the diner, but there he is – blue flannel, fleece-lined jacket, and heavy denim. Steve becomes a puddle in the booth and it must be obvious because Rob looks positively gleeful and Billy is starting to look smug and maybe a little besotted.
Fuck.
---
Billy knows that Robin must’ve been teasing him – Steve’s pretty face is all pink, even the tips of his ears are red. Buckley, on the other hand, is almost demonic with glee. Clearing his throat, Steve gives him such an adoring expression that it leaves Billy nearly breathless. “Hi there, Harrington.”
“What are you doing here?” Steve asks playfully, with a smile that veers dangerously close to naked flirtation.
He shrugs. “Lulu went to her friend Sam’s birthday party. Wanted to check on you, since you said the slave driver chained you to your paperwork.”
Buckley huffs. “I won that bet fair and square!”
Steve huffs back, with an endearing little pout. “I never agreed to it, you bully!” He throws Billy a look with those devastating eyes. “She’s going to abandon me to see a movie. Wanna keep me company?”
If anyone ever figures out how fucking easily he falls to that gaze, he’s a dead man. Aw shit. From Buckley’s face, she’s already figured that out. “Yeah, ‘course.”
Buckley rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, like getting to moon at your new boyfriend is such a hardship.”
“Rob!” Steve hisses, looking at nervously.
She scoffs, getting up from the opposite side so that Billy could take her place. She gives Billy sort of a challenging stare, and tosses her head. “If he didn’t wanna go public, he should’ve said no the first damn time, when you warned him.”
Maybe Billy’s answer would be different if his father were still alive. But he ain’t. “It ain’t that big a deal – just don’t wanna get Harrington into any shit.”
She pitches her voice so that it won’t carry. “You don’t get to take whatever you want in private and leave him out in the cold in public.”
He can’t even imagine how Old Billy would react to having a woman talk to him like this. But by the hardness in her eyes, he does know that even Old Billy wouldn’t have scared her. Robin Buckley has fought monsters far more disturbing the one he used to be. She also, judging from the steel in her jaw, has seen people (men? women? both?) do this to Steve before. Take their physical pleasure from him in dark of night and then pretend they can’t see him in the light of day.
She looks ready to knock his teeth out if she doesn’t like his answer, and Billy can both understand that anger, and respect her desire to protect Steve from pain. “Down girl,” he murmurs, “I wouldn’t leave him out in the cold anywhere, never mind around these wolves.”
“Rob,” Steve says lowly. “Don’t give him a shovel speech. I can take care of myself.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” she responds, with a smile that’s equally sweet and poisonous. Billy’s opinion of her skyrockets. “Have fun, boys.”
Steve sighs at her retreating back, looking put upon for a moment before he smiles at Billy again. Flicking his hair out of his face, he pushes his glasses up his nose and admits, “I actually do have to work on these. Sorry.”
Billy steals his coffee mug. “Yeah, I kinda assumed that.” He pulls a dog-eared copy of Red Dragon from his jacket pocket. “Don’t worry, I can keep myself entertained. Besides, I got somethin’ real pretty to look at.”
He throws in a wink just for good measure, just because he knows he’ll be well rewarded with another rosy blush coloring Steve’s cheeks.
It’s relaxing, sitting around like a normal couple, nobody giving a shit about the two of them sitting there. Understandably, he’s pretty surprised when something – or someone – touches his dick under the table.
His eyes immediately shoots up to Steve’s face as the arch of a socked foot presses into the fly of his jeans, rubbing gently against the rapidly thickening semi there. The question on his lips dies almost instantly. He hardly needs to ask if it’s an accident – Steve’s gaze is already fixed on Billy, biting down on the corner of his lip as he tries to hide the curve of a wicked smile, his eyes dark behind the frames of his glasses.
Billy’s mouth drops open slightly as Steve’s toes curls around the rigid line of cock, wedged painfully against his zipper. Steve makes a low noise, a satisfied kind of purring, at how quickly Billy goes from semi to fully hard. Gripping the edge of the table with one hand and squashing his book into an open position with the other, Billy croaks “Steve.”
Oh so innocently with his angel-faced smile and his creamy rose blush, Steve says “What are you reading?”
Billy has to bite down a pained groan as Steve rubs him just a little harder. It’s torturous – there’s too many layers between them to get Billy off, which he suspects that Steve is well aware of, but it also feels so good that he doesn’t really want him to stop. Too late, he recalls Robin’s words about Steve in the 11th Hour. He likes to flirt with danger. He’s addicted to risk.
He honestly couldn’t think of anything riskier than Steve trying to bring him off in the middle of one of the town’s busiest attractions, only edged out by the churches and the bars. Billy stares at him helplessly, wide-eyed and voiceless with the force of his surging arousal. There is the hint of a command in his voice when Steve repeats, “What are you reading, Billy?”
“R-red-Red Dragon,” Billy responds hoarsely, fighting to stop himself from humping Steve like a fucking animal. He can’t stop himself from letting go of the table and sliding his hand under the cuffs of Steve’s slacks, wrapping his fingers around his ankle to keep him there.
Steve looks very pleased indeed and gives Billy’s dick another rub, finding his cockhead through his pants and flexing his toes right around it. “Steve,” he says weakly. “Are you trying to give me a fetish?”
Surprised, he asks “Do you have one?”
“No, but-” He holds in a whine and hisses, “Keep touchin’ my dick like that, and I’m gonna start having inappropriate thoughts about your feet, sweetheart.”
Surprised and curious now, Steve presses harder. “Can you come this way?”
“I don’t-I don’t know.” Billy has to hold back another whine and quickly lets go of his book before he can start accidentally ripping out pages. “Why…why are you…?”
Shyly, which is very rich coming from someone in the middle of giving him a footjob in public, Steve says “Just trying to make you feel good. Can’t use my hands from all the way over here.”
Despite these words, his stare on Billy is hungry, and he can hear Steve panting softly through his words. The distant part of his mind that’s still rational wonders what is that’s doing it for him – that Billy is kinda weirdly turned on by his feet, that Billy is somewhat at his mercy, or that anyone could catch them doing this. Or maybe it’s a little of all three.
Unable to take it any longer, Billy gently pulls Steve’s sock off, preferring to be able to touch warm skin, and cups the top of his foot against his dick. He strokes Steve’s ankle and rolls his hips as subtly as he can, swallowing a moan as Steve’s dark longing stare holds him captive.
“Dunno where you got an idea like this, heartbreaker,” Billy croaks.
“We can stop,” Steve suggests sweetly, pushing his heel against his aching balls and flexing his toes again. Watching Billy’s eyelashes flutter and the way the hand still on the table clenches and unclenches spastically. Steve nibbles his lower lip and lowers his voice to a suggestive, throaty husk “Or you can just come for me.”
“Steve.” He doesn’t know which is stronger, surprise or desperation or fear.
“Nobody’s watching,” he promises, still in that honey-sweet persuasive purr. He emphasizes this with an up and down rub against the denim seam and licks his lips with an obscene flick of the tongue.
Billy’s cock twitches hard, weeping pre-come into his boxers, and he knows that Steve can feel it because he’s losing the effort to hold in that wicked smile now. His tongue darts out again, like he can taste Billy in the air, and Steve squirms around like he’s trying to relieve the pressure on his own cock.
He sinks down in the booth and spreads this thighs apart, holding Steve against his prick with a little more pressure. He pleads “F-faster, darlin’. Just a little…”
Billy can feel the muscles and tendons in his ankle flexing and shifting as Steve immediately gives in, all coy teasing over as rubs at a pace clearly meant to bring Billy off even through the thick fabric. An echo from the past murmurs “Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”
His lips form around a silent ‘fuck’, trying not to be extremely obvious when he bucks into the contact, choking off his noises to soft helpless whimpers.  
“Fuck, you are so hot,” Steve breathes in the present, nostrils flaring. He’s almost openly panting now and his eyes look nearly black.
Black holes that want to completely consume him. Billy bites down a scream and comes, wet and sticky, because beneath that angel-faced sweetness is a wicked, hungry smile. Just for Billy.
Lazily, Steve takes a twenty dollar bill from his jacket and slaps it down onto the sticky table. “Gimme my sock back,” he says, collecting all his papers and fondly stroking down Billy’s thigh before taking his foot back. “Do you like French silk?”
“Who doesn’t?” Billy says faintly, dazed.
“Good,” Steve says, all sugar and sweetness again. Billy’s fucking dizzy, man. “I made us one. Let’s go.”
“Don’t you want…?” His eyes dart down to Steve’s lap.
“Already did,” and there’s a hint of that dark gleam again. “Watching you, baby.”
Holy fucking shit.
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daddyfuckinlonglegs · 5 years
Text
Fallout OC Interview
So @lookbluesoup​ tagged me to do this, and I… well I did it my own way, as ever. It’s long, so I hope you wanna stick with it. If you wanna do it, I’ll list the questions as a comment. I dunno, I don’t tag people really, do it if you want to. Particularly @bagheera-is-back​ and @wasteland-mama​, and @saltsealed, but really, I’m enjoying reading them, so do it if you haven’t already. Nate ducked through the doorway, shaking the dirt from his shoes before stepping inside. Piper grinned and gestured to the chair opposite her, and untucked a small, stubby pencil from behind her ear. “Thanks for doing this, Blue. I’m sure they’ll get sick of hearing about you soon enough, but for now, we gotta give the people what they want.”  Nate nodded, settling quietly into the chair, the leather of his jacket creaking as he lowered himself down. He hitched up his trousers at the knee, sniffed, cleared his throat. Piper smiled at him, and nodded to the table next to him. “There’s a beer, if you want it. Help you relax a little.” Nate raised an eyebrow. “You tryin’ to get me drunk, Wright? Liquor me up and hope I spill something good? Not very ethical.” He smiled, a little curl at the corner of his mouth, and Piper looked alarmed. “Oh, no! No, nothing like, that, I mean, there’s… there’s some water too, just, y'know, thought…” She cleared her throat nervously. “Shall we get started?”
She regained her composure, pulling up a chair in front of Nate, backward, and leaning her notepad on the back of it, legs straddling the seat. “So, first up, tell us some basics; what’s your full name?” “Uhm, Nathan Christopher Stahl.” “Mmhmm, and how old are you?” Nate shrugged, that little smile playing at his mouth. “Old enough to know better? I dunno, I was thirty-seven when the bombs dropped. So, give or take 200 years…” Piper flashed him a small smile. “Okay, give the readers some idea of what you look like; defining features, as you see them, what do people notice about you first?” Nate shuffled, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Uhhh, I dunno, I’m…tall, sorta gangly? Black hair, sideburns. My… my nose is kinda…” He pressed his finger to the tip, pushing it up and exaggerating his nostrils. They both laughed, and he looked away to the ceiling. “What is this, anyway, a personal ad? You tell ‘em what I look like.” “Oh don’t worry, I intend to.” She laughed. He winked at her, and she dropped her eyes to the notepad, blushing slightly. Dammit he made her nervous. “Okay, so tell us a bit about where you’re from? You a Boston native, or…” He nodded. “I was. Been here my whole life, except for, y'know, deployment. I grew up pretty near where Goodneighbor is, right by the Common. Moved over to Newton when I was about eight, nine. It was a nice place.” Piper nodded enthusiastically. “I bet it was! Things must be so different now… What was it like, growing up before the war? Can you tell us a little bit about you as a kid, what kind of things you’d get up to?” Nate sat back on the sofa, slinging his arm across the back.  “Well, my dad wasn’t around so much, he was a SEAL, so he - a SEAL was like a really, uh, highly trained soldier, best of the best – so he wasn’t around all that much, me and my mom used to spend most of our weekends with my Grandpa, over in Roslindale. He was a good guy, let me pretty much do what I wanted to do, helped me build campfires and we used to go fishing sometimes. I never had the patience for fishing, so it always turned into a sorta… life lessons in a boat. Let me have a beer, smoke a cigarette, talked to me about girls, y'know, the stuff your parents wouldn’t like. My mom found out once, when I came home with beer spilled all across my pants, and boy she was mad. He was, uh, sneakier, after that. I got a lot of good memories with him.”  “My mom, well, she had a temper, but she always did her best. I think all the time alone must have really gotten to her, especially with me, being a mischievous little bastard so much of the time. I didn’t exactly make it easy for her, but I think she was dealing with more than I really understood, at the time. My dad…” He paused, cleared his throat. “My dad and I never saw eye to eye.”  Piper let him sit a moment, just in case he’d pick up the thread, but he stayed silent, looking off into the corner of the room, over his shoulder. He turned back to face her. “What’s next?” Piper nodded, licked her thumb and flicked the pages of her notepad. “Uhm… lemme see. Why don’t you tell us a little more about your association with the Minutemen? Rumour has it you’ve been promoted.” Nate laughed.  “Nice to hear the Boston rumour mill is still in tip top condition. Yeah, I’ve been… requested to take on a more directorial role. The Minutmen are certainly growing again, there’s more and more settlements being established as a network across the commonwealth, more and more people signing up to watch each others’ backs and have more folks to rely on in a crisis. Lieutenant Garvey has been hard at work, rebuilding the Castle and the ranks are looking stronger than ever, even got a team modding power armour.” He smiled, leaning forward. “For any raiders out there reading this, that’s a real gentle way of saying don’t fuck with us.” Piper grinned. “Might have to censor that one, Blue. Don’t want to offend the delicate sensibilities of the commonwealth’s finest, y'understand. What about the Institute? There’s some, uh, talk that you’ve been inside, some questions about who you’re working with?” Nate sucked his teeth, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. “I’m not in a position to address that.” He leaned forward. “Between you and me, my Geiger counter is in the shop, and this is a bigger shit show than anyone thought. You can say I avoided the question, say I said no, whatever. I can’t talk about it.” She wriggled in her seat, flipping a fresh page, her eyes flashing inquisitively. “Okay, gotcha. So… back to Lieutenant Garvey, he’s one of the people you’re often seen travelling with, and you two seem to have a pretty good chemistry. Is he a squeeze, or is it purely professional?” Nate rolled his eyes. “Wright, this is gossip mag territory. I thought you were better than that.” She shrugged, her cheeks colouring a little. “Hey, not my fault, the people wanna know.” Nate sighed. “No, he’s not a “squeeze”. We’re close, for sure, he’s someone I trust, and we’ve saved each other’s assses plenty of times. But the same goes for Nick, and for Bobby MacCr- sorry, RJ MacCready. Honestly, Valentine is… I don’t think I’d have made it without him. He really kept me in line when I was trying to go off the rails. I owe him a lot.” Piper smiled sincerely. “Yeah, Nicky’s a real good guy. Lotta heart, for a synthetic man, huh?” He nodded. Piper took a deep breath. “So, to press the question a little, is there anyone you’re involved with, currently? Romantically involved with?” Nate chuckled under his breath. “Not exactly. There’s… I’ve got, shall we say, interests.” “C'mon Blue, spill it.” She prodded. “Give us lonely commonwealth folks some hope.” He laughed. “Well, there’s… a little guy, from out of town, he knows who he is. And, well, Diamond city certainly has it’s fair share of pretty girls. Pretty girls with plenty of attitude, girls that make the authorities a little uncomfortable. I’m a sucker for a girl who knows how to get what she wants.” He met her eyes, and Piper’s stomach leapt. He’s kidding, he’s just a goddamn flirt. “Okay, so to move on… Enemies. You gotta have a fair few of them, being in your position?” Nate nodded, drawing his lips tight. “Yeah, unfortunately. The gunners, predictably, are not exactly looking to pat me on the back. The Brotherhood, we don’t see eye to eye either, I blew them off a while back and they’re not exactly pleased that we’re establishing a force of our own with the Minutemen. I spent enough time taking orders before the bombs, I’m really not looking to join up again. I’ve seen enough combat on other people’s terms.” “Do you enjoy the fighting? What’s the wildest combat story you’ve got for us? Spin us a yarn.” Nate considered, tugging a cigarette from his pocket. “Well, there’s… Do you mind?” He gestured at the cigarette, Piper shook her head. He lit up. “There’s a few, to be honest, taking out a deathclaw inside a museum, that was a traumatising experience. That’s where, y'see the scar here?” He tapped beneath his right eye. “Those things are lethal, even when you’re out of arms reach. Threw a big fucking chunk of ceiling tile at me, busted my nose pretty good, but made it out alive.” Piper whistled. “Lucky.” Nate shook his head. “Nah, I don’t believe in luck. I’m just grateful MacCready managed to do more than just shit his pants. Can’t blame him.” He inhaled and blew the smoke away quickly. “Don’t print that, he’ll kill me. There was the Castle, too. Big bastard Mirelurk, Garvey said it was a Queen, that was a close call. If I live my whole life and never have to smell another…” He shuddered, Piper laughed. “Not a fan of the aquatic life then?” “Not particularly. Bloodbugs though, they’re the… fuck those things. Can’t stand them. Bloatflies too, disgusting.” “Any critters you don’t hate?” She smiled. “Plenty. From a distance, Yao Guai are some majestic looking things, aren’t they? And mole rats, when they’re just going about their business…” He held his hands up like paws and stuck his teeth out, imitating the rats’ snuffling sound, and Piper laughed out loud. He grinned, and took another drag. “I don’t know about you, I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for them. And, maybe this is pre-war hagover, but protectrons, y'know, I kinda love the big stupid things. I used to work for RobCo, before I was in the Navy, and I always liked 'em the best.” Piper sat forward. “Used to work for RobCo? So you’re a bit of a whizz with electronics huh?” Nate shook his head, sucking the cigarette. “Not really. I was sales, I can do a bit of maintenance, and shut things down in a pinch, but I never had the flair for that stuff. My speciality was convincing people to buy stuff.” “Ahh, more of a sweet talker, huh?” “Takes one to know one, sugar.” He winked. “Yeah, I’ve always been more a lover than a fighter, and my mouth has gotten me into, and out of, plenty of trouble. Good with my hands, too, for what it’s worth.” He flicked his eyebrows in a quick arc, a half smile curling the corner of his mouth. Piper blushed again, laughing. “I can see why. You’re a rouge, aren’t you? What other tricks have you got up your sleeve?” “Well, I’m not a bad swimmer, my aim’s pretty good, I’m pretty light on my feet, make a good steak.” he laughed. “And I might not be a brute-force kinda guy, but I can hold my own.” Piper nodded. “And how was it, adjusting to the world out here? The radiation? You must’ve been pretty shocked at the mutants, and ghouls…” Nate nodded. “For sure, it was a shock. Coming out of the vault was… I was already in a bad place, freezing and alone and… y'know, everything. When I got up to the surface, I just… my knees just went out, and honestly, I sat and cried, I don’t know how long.” He stubbed out his cigarette.  “The next… I dunno, month or two, it was hard. Even just getting up, just walking around, it felt like all my bones were made of lead, my head full of water, y'know? I made it to Goodneighbor, but I was so sick, all the food I’d been scavving was poisoning me, and I didn’t know what the hell was happening. John – Mayor Hancock – got Amari to fix me up, but we, uh… he and I had some pretty serious misunderstandings back then, so I didn’t stick around to rest like I was supposed to. Nick really looked out for me around then, but… in the midst of it all he ended up being out of action, and Mayor Hancock ended up trekking into the glowing sea with me.” Piper’s face dropped. “I know. Crazy. Trust me, it was more crazy than it sounds. But he kept me alive, and we held up pretty well considering. I’ve never seen one man soak up so many chems before, but then, I wasn’t far behind.” Piper tilted her head quizically. “Are you a fan of… recreational substances, then?” Nate looked at the ceiling and chewed his lip. “Uhhh, I dunno, I have a bit of a love/hate relationship there. I’ve… been known to enjoy myself at a party, in the past, y'know, before the bombs. Sometimes a little too much. But things are different out here, and some can really change the tide of a fight. I’m not saying you should, I’m saying it’s an option, in a pinch.” Piper nodded. “D'you ever think about life before the war?” “All the time. All the time. So many places here have bits of my life attached, sometimes it’s like a little niggle in my stomach - “gee, I could really go for an ice cream right now!” - other times it’s like the floor falling out under you.” She sidestepped the obvious sore point, instead asking; “What’s ice cream?” Nate furrowed his brow. “It was… so it’s milk, like a thick cream, and they froze it, but not like a block of ice, it was… it was more like snow, I guess, like thick, sugary snow. All different flavours, you put it on a… a kinda waffle cone, and it just melted in your mouth, or you could put it in a soda and…” He paused, laughing. “It’s a lot harder to explain than I thought. But you’d have liked it. Sometimes couples went out for ice cream, like on a date, before a movie or something. I bet you’d have liked that too. I might even have offered to take you.” She laughed, smiling wistfully, eyes bright. “Sounds… tasty. You a soda kind of guy? I can’t get enough of the stuff.” “Well, I wasn’t,” he gestured, “before the war. But the fact that Nuka Cola is practically the same as it was then… it blows my mind, and it’s a nice little slice of memory. I heard some people are trying to find the formula, want to get the bottling plant up and running again. How’s that for an achievement?” He laughed, and Piper wanted to reach out and touch him, smooth her fingers across the little lines at the corners of his eyes, put her hand on his chest and feel his voice under her palm… She smiled at him. “Speaking of achievements, what would you say is the biggest one for you?” “Uhh, not being dead yet? I dunno, helping Preston re-establish the Minutemen is… it’s a huge thing, and I wouldn’t take credit for it all, but joining them, really making things better for people and really… instigating change. That’s something I’ve always wanted. I’m glad to be a part of it.” Piper nodded, scribbling frantically. “Any regrets?” Nate swept his hand through his hair, looking away again. “I dunno, that’s a big question. Yeah. I have some. I can’t really say more. Sorry.” “That’s okay. Would… would you say you have goals?” She leaned forward. “Things you’ve learned from those regrets? What do you want, what’re you working towards for the future?” He rubbed the corners of his mouth and thought for a moment. “I… guess I want to make a home again. Not just for myself, but for… for everyone out here. Just to make people feel safe, to bring a little bit of the lightness that life used to have. To give people back that… hope.” He looked at Piper, his eyes flicking from deep thought to a mischievous gleam. “Short term, I’d like that beer, and maybe to get laid. I dunno if you want to publish that though.” She laughed, blushing, closing her notebook and hopping to her feet. “I think that’s the perfect ending; giving the people hope, just like you said.” She stepped close to him, extending her hand, and he shook it warmly. “Thanks for being such a good sport, Blue. And… if you ever want to hit the road with someone, you just remember where to find me, 'kay? I’m always on the prowl for a new story, and you seem to just… scoop 'em up, by accident. I think it’d be a lot of fun, travelling with you, and I’m not too terrible with a pistol either. You gimme a shout, y'hear?” He stood, tugging his jacket down over his stomach, and nodded, smiling. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
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