#i mean in both things u are captivated by a man with glowing eyes who is about to kiss you and change the whole course of ur relationship s | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

utahimeow · 1 year ago

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stam-pegged | vash the stampede

summary — vash the stampede gets pegged.

pairing — vash the stampede x f!reader

warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. afab reader, use of a strap, vash has a pussy, cunnilingus

word count — 2.3k

author’s note — this is sooo self-indulgent and is for the purpose of spreading the vashussy agenda. ur welcome i hope u enjoy

“Have you ever been fucked, Vash?”

From where the infamous Humanoid Typhoon has his head laid on your chest comes a series of stutters and nervous laughs.

“Wh-what?” he manages, sitting upwards suddenly. His cheeks glow red, even darker than the perpetual tinge of sunburn that he has. Somehow he’s making eye contact with you, and yet he’s avoiding it like the plague.

“I mean, you’re a hundred and fifty years old, so I’m just curious,” you say, shrugging, but mischief dances in the way you gaze at him.

Vash’s head droops as he scratches the back of his neck and laughs, hesitating. “Well, you know, I’ve been- ah, busy… on the run, and stuff…”

“Really? So, you’ve never once…?”

Vash shakes his head. The only reason you’re so surprised is because he’s so breathtaking.

The first time you saw him you were convinced he was an angel– kicked out of heaven, perhaps, when he fell from the sky and landed with a thud a few feet away from you. It turned out he was no more than a wanted man running from the law and, in the midst of a run-in with the military, he’d managed to get catapulted into the air, which was how he found himself careening towards the ground where you were going about your day until then.

He was lucky that it was you who had found him, who’d taken him in and given him shelter for no reason other than the fact that you were utterly captivated. He was no divine creature, but on this planet he was the closest thing to one.

You remember how he told you that he’d spent the better part of his one hundred and fifty years on the run. That he had no one, not really, other than a twin brother with whom he was “slightly at odds with”. In one hundred and fifty years, no one had been so gentle with him like you had.

“Would you let me change that?” you ask, retreating on your forwardness to instead pose the question carefully.

It’s no secret that you’re attracted to him, and you think his affection for you is just as obvious. Like, come on. Just now he was laying on top of you with his face snuggled into your chest like a damn lapdog. It’s become a frequent thing for you to fall asleep tangled in one another’s limbs, clinging to the only good thing in your God forsaken lives.

Vash looks at you, baby blue eyes round and twinkling. “Yeah.”

You smile, hoping he can’t sense the eagerness brewing in your stomach. Your hand reaches up to cradle his face, and you kiss him, slow and soft, and you melt into his touch when his own hands fall around your neck. It feels like your lips were meant for his–made to fit against one another.

Your tongue presses into his mouth and the kiss becomes sloppy, starts to evoke a need within both of you. Between your legs there’s a dull pulse that makes you rub them together, and you don’t doubt that Vash feels it too. It’s hot, crawling up your spine and lighting your entire body up with flames.

Carefully, your hand slides down Vash’s chest and along his thighs, thick and hard under your palms. It comes back up to find a home between his legs, and when you palm at his crotch, he whimpers into your mouth. You didn’t expect him to be so… docile.

You pull away with a grin, batting your eyelashes as you gaze at Vash. Spit strings still connect your lips to his, and he feels suddenly dizzy when he notices them.

“You’re cute, Vash,” you admit, shifting off of the couch and to the floor.

Vash’s eyes burn through you as you settle on your knees between his legs. The usual soft, sky blue in them has turned to a dark, brilliant sapphire, glazed over with desire.

Gently you pull at the band of his loose sweats. He lifts his hips absentmindedly, allowing you to pull them down his toned legs. In an instant, your gaze is drawn to his cunt, spread open like a blooming fruit, dripping with sweetness and begging to be devoured.

“God, you’re so pretty, Vash,” you tell him in a low whisper, unashamed to compliment him. Your head dips to the side, and you relish in the way he shivers when your lips press against his thighs. “Bet you taste amazing, too.”

Your kisses move lower and lower, your hands curling around his legs where they’re propped up on the couch. Vash's heavy breaths are like music to your ears, a hint at your effect on him. He gulps ever so often, like he's trying to swallow down his want. His face is still flushed hot pink.

The first swipe of your tongue through his folds leaves the both of you lightheaded. Him, trying desperately not to fall apart at the seams from this new sensation. You, relishing in the taste of his arousal, a taste unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. He’s sweet—sugary, like nectar. It’s dizzying, addicting.

A flip in your brain switches and you’re hungry. Starved. So desperate for more of him that it would drive you to insanity had you not had him in your very grasp.

So you eat. Relentless, your tongue rolls over Vash’s clit again and again as any coherent

thought in your mind is replaced by pure lust. Vash is gasping, panting hard at the dizzying sensation coursing through his entire being, his hands grasping at the couch.

He’s well acquainted with adrenaline. The way it burns through his blood, moves his arms and legs without him thinking, forces him to fight, shoot, kick– makes his heart pump so hard it hurts, makes his lungs swallow so much air that he feels as though he’s floating.

This, however, is foreign to him. Pleasure. He’s never felt anything like it, never wanted so much more of something, never been so regretful that it’s taken so long for him to discover it.

Your hand reaches up, two of your fingertips prodding at his slicked entrance and he jolts ever so slightly.

“I’m gonna put a finger in, okay? It’ll feel even better,” you tell him, your voice husky and heavy with desire, hot breath dancing over Vash’s cunt.

You wait until he nods his head, then push your middle finger inside of him, moaning out as his soft, warm walls pull you in. Vash gives a whine of his own, dizzy from the light stretch, from the way his body floods with heat when you curl your finger upwards and you find the spot that makes him yelp.

The moment your tongue finds his clit once more, Vash wails. He can’t hold back any longer, his back arching toward the ceiling, his pussy clenching around your finger. His thighs tremble around your head as he completely and utterly lets go.

He feels like he’s falling, but for the first time, it’s blissful.

“There you go, Vash, such a good boy,” you hum. You ease up, slowing your finger to a near halt and watching his face intently as he trembles with the aftershocks of his first orgasm ever. He’s all red and dazed, and you rub a hand slowly over his thigh to try and ground him once more.

“Felt good, hm?” you ask, planting a kiss to his thigh as you draw your finger back out of him. You gasp at the sight of the sticky webs of his cum that cling to your digit, glimmering like they’re ribbons of silk. You wrap your lips around your finger, eyes fluttering shut at the saccharine taste and your head is spinning. That’s plant cum, you suppose.

Vash nods his head dazedly. “Felt really good,” he mumbles, giving you a small, loopy smile.

“Ready for more, then?” you ask, a smirk gracing your features. Perhaps you could give him a little bit more time to recover, but something in your brain is desperate to make him fall apart all over again–something primal.

His eyes widen just a little at the thought of more, then he’s nodding his head again and in the blink of an eye you’re on your feet, heading to your bedroom closet in search of something. When you appear once more, you’ve got a pretty pink cock strapped to your hips, a bottle of lube in hand, and Vash waits for you with his legs still spread.

He thinks he might pass out as you stand before him, bottom lip between your teeth as you drizzle lube over the strap and pump your hand up and down, slow and deliberate while flames lick up Vash’s skin.

“You want it, Vash?” you ask, finally stepping close enough to hover the cock over his cunt.

“Please,” he breathes, unashamed of his desperation.

You drag the slick tip along his slit, through his sopping, greedy folds and he’s writhing. Soft, impatient whimpers make their way past his lips, but he doesn’t have the courage to say anything. He lays there, pliant for you, because you know best.

“I’m gonna put it in, okay?” you tell him. His need is contagious, spreading through you until your mind is void of all things but for the image of him being split open.

“Yeah- yes,” he replies.

With that, you push at the back of his thighs until he lifts them for you, burying your cock inside him slowly as he cries out at the intrusion. It’s much thicker than your finger, of course, but paired with the way his hole is drooling with both arousal and lube as well as his plant physiology giving him a higher pain threshold, it’s far, far more pleasure than it is pain. You hook his legs around your waist, sliding in until you’re finally fully seated inside him, your hips flush to his.

He’s never looked so flustered, his eyes foggy like he’s high and his cheeks glowing red, his mouth hanging in a permanent O shape. You lean forward, mashing your lips with his because right now you could quite literally devour him.

Your hips pull back slightly before sliding back in–not too fast, and not achingly slow, either. Vash’s whines become muffled against your mouth, his hands flying to grasp onto your shoulders as your thrusts begin to fall into a rhythm. Your cock drags in and out of Vash’s clenching pussy, steady, scared he’ll fall apart in your hands if you’re too rough with him even though you know better.

“More,” he whines, somehow still so polite, yet there’s a newfound boldness in his tone as the way your cock stretches him out becomes utterly addictive. It grazes his sweet spot with every rock of your hips, dragging against his walls deliciously, and soon it’s not enough for him.

“Want more, baby?” you ask, grinning devilishly.

“Please, go harder,” he whimpers, fingers pressing into your shoulders as he braces for it.

And so you go harder, near-slamming your hips into his, somehow managing to elicit sounds from Vash that are even more obscene than before, sounds you didn’t think he was capable of making. Just when you thought he couldn’t get more beautiful, here he is, spread open and vulnerable for you, his name on your tongue, trusting you with his pleasure in your hands.

Tears start to well in Vash’s eyes and your heart swells. You’re familiar with the overwhelmingness of it all, even despite the conflicting need for more, for faster, for harder. Your hand reaches up, a thumb swiping underneath his eyes to catch the tears that have spilled.

“You’re doing so fucking good, sweet boy, taking it so well for me,” you coo, smiling softly at him in hopes that he’ll find some beacon of assurance within you. “Gonna cum for me again?”

He nods his head, letting a sweet whimpered sound fall from his lips. “I wanna cum.”

You bend forward once more, moulding your mouths together while your hand slips between your sweat-slicked bodies and down to Vash’s clit. He lurches in your grasp the moment your thumb starts to rub tight circles against it, his hips bucking, but it only pushes him harder onto your cock.

“Cum for me,” you say, breathless.

Vash is throbbing all over–around your cock, deep in his stomach, and his mind, too. Inside of him, pleasure boils and bubbles more and more with every thrust you give, until finally it spills over the edges.

Vash chokes out a broken sob as his second orgasm spills through him, spreading like a wildfire to his fingertips and toes until he’s trembling and his chest is heaving as he swallows down air.

“That’s it, baby,” you say, still circling his clit as he starts to come back down. You’ve stopped moving your hips, stilling inside him while he came, and now your hands rub up and down his thighs where they’re hooked around your waist. “Doing okay?”

He nods, eyes full of fog–the look on his face is adorable.

“How was that?” you ask, slowly slipping out of him, giggling at the way he whines when you do.

“Really really good,” he tells you, giving you a gooey smile.

You toss yourself onto the couch right next to him as you’re met with the sudden urge to pull him into your arms. His head falls back to your chest, nuzzling into your t-shirt, shamelessly inhaling your scent.

“You did so good, and I’m not just saying that,” you tell him, clenching your legs together when you replay his expressions in your head. “The Humanoid Typhoon takes dick like a champ.”

He buries his face further into your tits, making a noise of humiliation. You’re patting his hair so gently though, so he doesn’t feel as embarrassed as he should.

“I wanna do it again,” he admits, then his head jolts up suddenly. “But I wanna be on top this time.”

“We can do it again,” you tell him, stroking his cheek. “But you’ll be on your hands and knees so I can take you from behind.”

#vash smut #vash the stampede smut #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun smut #trigun stampede smut #꒰ lovers. ꒱ — vash

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hubbytaeil · 4 years ago

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hello! can u please do angst #6 from your prompt list for johnny?? maybe some enemies or fake dating ?! thanks <3

Johnny + #6 It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion

genre: kind of angst, reneissanse!au

synopsis: an alternative universe in which reader is a Medici and Johnny is a Pazzi in 15th Century Florence. In case you didn’t know, Giovanni is the equivalent of John

tw: mentions of blood and death

word count: 3k+

a/n: there i go again putting together two of my favourite things together aka Johnny and Italy so really this is pure self-indulgence. On top of that, this will be the last post I make. I’ve been thinking a lot, I’ve put two and two together and I understood that I’m about to enter the busiest period/year of my life, but that’s adulting right? Either way, it was fun to be here while it lasted, thank you for your support but I feel like I need to concentrate on getting my life together now. Remember to take care of yourself, nenétte says goodnight <3

It was a perfect night for a celebration; it seemed as though the whole city of Florence had gathered in the presence of the Corsini in their great villa. Music played gayly and the atmosphere was filled with laughter and joy. You knew very well this was all your friend Matilde’s doing, her social gatherings were known to be the most entertaining throughout the republic. The reason of the celebration was unknown but the guests were having a splendid time. When you finally questioned Matilde about it, she just shrugged her shoulders.

“Must a lady always have an excuse for her to wish for good company and a good laugh?” she whispered in your ear so that she would not be heard by her older sisters.

“Oh, most certainly not. Yet, I am still rather perplexed on why the lady in question has to invite the entire city in her home to simply have a laugh.” you responded, holding her hand in a teasing manner.

“We should enjoy ourselves for as long as we can, y/n. Just like your brothers always say, don’t they?” you nodded at Matilde’s statement, glancing over at your brother Lorenzo engaged in what seemed a heated conversation with one of the guests. You always regarded yourself to have had such a lucky disposition, having been born in one the most influential families of the peninsula. Yet, your true luck laid in the wonderful family members you had been blessed with. A young lady such as yourself could not have hoped for a better environment to grow up in, surrounded by illustrated artists who would always come in and out of your household, the toms of the library of your beloved father, God rest his soul, and, of course, the presence of your ever so outstanding siblings. Lorenzo noticed your gaze towards him and he saw how must’ve been lost inside your numerous thoughts. He shook his head slightly. Divertiti. Have fun, he mouthed. You smiled enthusiastically, remembering what such beautiful lines of wisdom you had found lying on his desk along the piles of scattered papers. You felt the need to share them with Matilde.

“As my dear brother would say, del domani non c’è certezza. Of tomorrow there’s no certainty.”

“And would your other dear brother say, sorella?” Giuliano intruded in your conversation but Matilde was not at all displeased. Giuliano had that effect on every lady (or lord), with his astonishing complexion and rather captivating character that at times could be considered rather bellicose.

“Well in your case, you would just simply sneak away with the fairest lady here present and leave your younger siblings to watch out for themselves.” you affirmed, of course he couldn’t help but smirk at truthfulness of your words.

“Not this time, y/n. Tonight I’m very determined to protect you from the rapacious gazes of Florentine society. Mother’s orders.” Said Giuliano sternly, locking his arm with yours, leading you to dance and separating you from Matilde.

“Is that so, Giuliano? Is any of the gentlemen here present organising some sort of coup against my character?” you implied, trying to veil your cheeky smile. As the music initiated, you let your brother guide you in the sea of people, hoping not to get the wrong steps and end up on someone’s feet, just like what happened last time with one of the Albizzi boys.

“Not that I know of, no. But who knows what are these pompous bastards’ ways to smear our family.” your brother hissed when he got the chance to be close to your ear as he made you turn.

“You’d know better not to utter such profanities, messere.” you muttered, mocking your childhood governess which made Giuliano laugh silently as he positioned you both in line. You continued on dancing and you could feel your brother glaring at every gentleman whose turn was it to dance with you. Much to your determined protector’s surprise, you had never cared much for the company of men, therefore you were sure you could defend yourself in case of uncomfortable or inconvenient situations. You limited yourself to exchange the bare minimum of pleasantries, enough for you to be polite but not enough for them to justify any sort of pursuing. An equilibrium soon to be disrupted by a young man, all dressed in black, who you had never seen before, not at any of Matilde’s parties or in church or even in one your brothers’ company. The gentleman, who most definitely stood out for his imposing height, took your hand and led you forward. You had never felt intimidation in the presence of the opposite sex, as opposed to what all decent ladies are taught, and yet there was something about him that made you both fear and admire him, with his hair long and dark and his serious gaze.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my lady?” his raucous voice filled your ears as he made you sway past him and back at his side. You tried to compose yourself.

“Most definitely, my lord. I reckon you are as well.”

“I am certainly, though it is rather unfortunate that no other lady can dance as well as you.” whispered the puzzling man, in the corner of your eye you saw a smirk. That must have been the dreaded coup Giuliano was worrying about. You were ashamed to admit that being charmed wasn’t as unpleasant as you had expected. You could’ve even get used to it if it meant looking into the stranger’s beautiful eyes and how they glowed under the candle lights. They irradiated a particular light, making anyone believe that they held some type of knowledge a common person could not aspire to.

“It is the mere product of practice. Truth to be told, I find books more entertaining at times.” you took a step forward together, hand in hand.

“Is that so? And in what readings have you most interest?” you smirked at his question, holding in a chuckle, resulting in him frowning as he waited for your respond. He pulled you in and then you spun around him.

“I’m afraid if I told you, messere, you wouldn’t want to pay me such honouring compliments anymore.” You showed him your most endearing smile and he gladly reciprocated, staring at you attentively as you draw a circle around him.

You were doleful to let go of his hand just to give it to another gentleman. Faster than you expected, the dance came to an end you were already anticipating to resume the conversation with your newest acquaintance. You felt silly in not having asked for his name. You spotted his eyes again the crowd and he was svelte to start making his way to you. But before he could reach you, you observed how his eyes shifted from you to something that was behind. His expression had darkened. You turned around to realise how that something was no other than a rather crossed Giuliano. The young man froze where he stood, meanwhile Giuliano was quick to grab you gently by the arm.

“I most definitely have oppositions about your taste in men, y/n.” your brother grumbled, not taking his flaming eyes off the gentleman dressed in black.

“I actually found him to be the most agreeable gentleman to dance with me tonight. What could your oppositions be, brother?” you glanced over at him once again, wearing a pleased smile. This time he didn’t even flinch, he had reassumed the initial austere expression. It set off a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Do you really wish to know the reason of my oppositions?” Giuliano’s tone was strange. You knew he was hiding something from you. You nodded impatiently, only wanting to find out the dynamics of this sudden change of mood.

Giuliano let your hand rest on his as he made his way to the unknown man with you at his side. Your heart sank in your chest once you were face to face yet again with the handsome stranger. What was your brother trying to do?

“Giuliano de’ Medici.” spoke the tall man. You were not surprised at him knowing who your brother was, but it didn’t explain at all why this was your first time seeing him.

“Giovanni de’ Pazzi.” responded Giuliano. Your throat ran dry at the sound of that name and your head was suddenly heavier.

It couldn’t be. He was a Pazzi, but how was this possible? You had never seen him around any other person who carried such dreadful surname. All good dispositions towards the man changed in the blink of an eye. And all it took was a bloody name.

“Tell me Giovanni, how was England? It was quite a lengthy stay, wasn’t it?” Giuliano posed his question, but the usual tone of mockery was not trying to be hidden by any means.

“It was indeed, lengthy enough for me to start calling myself John, like the locals did. But I have missed Florence very much.” John’s tone on the other hand was firm and poised, hard to believe he was a Pazzi if one didn’t notice the deadly spark in his dark eyes, the same spark you had mistaken for a sign of a respectable man.

“May I present to you my sister, y/n de’ Medici?” the reveal of both of your identities had banished any sort of possible affection between you and John. There you stood face to face, a pernicious look in both of your eyes. You bowed never letting your gaze leave him, not interested in being polite, not to him or any member of his family.

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, madonna. I certainly look forward on having more conversations regarding our favourite lectures.” his devious smirk didn’t look as charming anymore, not when it reminded you of the odious man who was head of his family.

“I certainly do, messer Pazzi.” you responded with not even a drop of sincerity, you made sure the message was clear. You heard an unpleasant voice calling out John’s name. It was Francesco de’ Pazzi.

“If you’ll excuse me, my brother requires my presence.” John bowed elegantly and was swift to leave you and Giuliano alone. You squeezed your brother’s hand as tight as you could after John was far away enough.

“Say, what would you do without me, sorella?” Giuliano was glad in having succeeded in your mother’s plan but you felt deceived and most importantly, you felt uneasy having been so close to someone who despised your family so deeply. Though you were relieved in having been saved from stepping into the lion’s den.

“They should hang these Pazzis’ portraits around town so that decent young ladies don’t make the grave mistake of dancing with them.” you whispered bitterly.

“You seemed quite glad in the moment; I’ve never seen you look at a man like that.” Giuliano teased you.

“Do shut your mouth, and don’t mention this to anyone.” you warned him, your voice shaking thinking about John’s hand touching yours, about his eyes piercing through you like an arrow.

“Whatever for? Lorenzo always speaks of ending this rivalry once and for all. Perhaps, he’ll be happy to acquire a Pazzi as a brother-in-law.” Giuliano spoke with poison in his voice, since he clearly didn’t agree with his oldest sibling. Not to mention just weeks prior Francesco de’ Pazzi and Giuliano had been involved in a fight around the market place. Giuliano had a tumultuous character and it didn’t help the devilish rumours the Pazzi would spread about your family. You clang at Giuliano’s arm like you did when you were child.

“I shall never speak to a Pazzi ever again, let alone marry one. Just the mere thought makes my skin crawl.” had you and Giuliano been alone, you would’ve spat on the ground.

“Well, you’re in luck, I’d never let you commit such treason against our family, but must importantly, against me.” you both chuckled softly, hoping not be observed by anyone who would report what you were saying to the people involved.

“I know you two are up to no good, whatever is going on?” Lorenzo approached you, assuming a concerned look.

“Absolutely nothing, brother. I was just mentioning how all eyes seem to be on y/n this evening.” confidently answered Giuliano, tapping on the palm of your hand.

The evening was far from being over. Though, unlike your brothers, you required fresh air from time to time during crowded banquets such as these. You asked Matilde to join you on one of the balconies but she kindly refused after Giuliano finally asked her to dance. Therefore, you made your way alone. You rested your palms on the reeling, breathing in and out, looking up at the sky and following the trail of stars.

“You know, my uncle always says you Medici spend so much time looking up at the clouds that you forget what really matters.” a familiar voice sent a chill through your spine, making you shiver in result. You turned around to see John standing in between the pillars with a smug look on his face. Perhaps he thought he had conducted you into some trap. You pitied him.

“And my dear brother Lorenzo always say that you Pazzi waste all your great potential in going after what is out of your reach.” you replied severely, your back as straight as it could be. John snickered at your comeback. He looked rather dangerous with his face beaconed by the torches hanging on the wall, almost like Lucifer after having fallen from heaven. You had to admit, there was a hint of fear inside of you but shut it out as fast as you could.

“Have you been sent here to antagonise me?” you asked him since he hadn’t spoken.

“You are a Medici indeed.” John affirmed almost to himself, observing your every feature. “But no, I hadn’t such intentions. Though I could, if you were inclined.” said John, taking a step towards you.

“You’d be wise not to antagonise the wrong person, messere. One may even get hurt.” you warned him, looking at him dead in the eye. You were not used to stepping down to anyone, you were proud and not ashamed of it. Thought you two seemed to share this particular trait. It was a silent quarrel.

“Well, if that isn’t an inviting prospect.” John grinned, not taking your fervour seriously.

“So, you have come to antagonise me. I guess it runs in the family.” you raised your eyebrows in false surprise. “Did your uncle have to bring you back here all the way from England for this sole purpose?” you laughed in his face but his expression didn’t mutate. Yet his body seemed to tense up.

“The reasons of my return certainly do not concern you, my lady. Furthermore, I gathered you were enjoying yourself mingling with a Pazzi. Now, that’s not a behaviour worth of a Medici, is it?” John scolded you and rage created a stinging sensation that spread throughout your body. You tightened your fists, to the point where they hurt, anything not to let wrath cloud your judgment.

“I do not believe you are to be the best individual to judge what is worth of a Medici or not.” you stated as you commenced to circle around him.

“You have just returned to Florence and you are probably following your brother’s orders to please him. In that case, I wouldn’t blame you for your foolish provocative attempts.” you completed the circle as you said this.

“but I would blame you if such behaviour had been deliberate. Oh, it would’ve been so unfair to me, messer Pazzi.” you affirmed, sarcastically raising the pitch of your voice. You stood once again face to face, far away from the brief moment of propensity that you two had shared hours prior. You weren’t sure if his lively eyes regarded you as a prey or as his equal. John contemplated you, his opponent, before breaking into a smile.

“And what a pain it would be, y/n” You saw him move his hand preparing to reach for yours until he refrained himself “for you to know that I’ve been unfair to you.” John knew how to play this game very well indeed, whether he had learnt from his brother or anyone else in the family. Did he stop himself because in him there was enough decency left that didn’t make him want to compromise a young lady? Or perhaps did he want to prolong the fun he was having?

“Your perseverance is admirable, Giovanni” you saw him wince at his real name being pronounced. “though too much of it could lead to dangerous outcomes.” your venomous threat didn’t make John retreat but you could see that he was impressed by it.

“I certainly hope this fierceness of yours doesn’t get you into trouble, my lady.” he whispered.

“And it is a real shame no one has asked for your opinion in regard of my character, my lord.” you stared into each other's eyes like sword blades colliding. It was a tie.

“Y/n.” you heard Lorenzo calling your name, though it resounded like white noise in your ears. He informed you that it was time to leave. You looked over John’s shoulder and saw him looking rather preoccupied. You were glad that it wasn’t Giuliano or else he would’ve challenged John straight away after seeing you alone with him. You didn’t even bother bowing to John and you simply took heavy steps towards your brother.

“Are you alright, y/n?” Lorenzo questioned, rubbing one of your shoulders.

“I’m feeling splendid, do not worry about me.” you reassured him. You glanced back at John whose expression was cryptic. You worried if that expression was going to haunt your dreams that night.

“Have a good night, madonna. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of other occasions to talk about Ovid.” John hinted at the conversation you had during the dance and it made you fume with both rage and humiliation. You saw your brother’s expression darken at John’s words but he remained calm, even if the grip he had on you said otherwise. You, on the other hand, were seeing red. It was beyond unfairness; it was absolutely evil. You pushed aside the fear of John spreading vicious rumours about you being promiscuous or loose solely based on that conversation.

“There’ll be no need.” you affirmed, succeeding in keeping your voice stable. “I believe we have nothing more to say to each other. Have a good night.” and like that you stormed out alongside your brother, utterly infuriated at the state of wrath John had put you in.

“You and Giuliano are going to be the death of me, you know that?” Lorenzo muttered in your ear after you two had reached the carriage.

“I’m so sorry, brother.” you lowered your gaze.

“I believe you have done nothing to be sorry or ashamed for.” he made your raise your head and look in his eyes. “Furthermore, at your age I was way more reckless than you are right now.” he made you chuckle which slightly lifted your spirits. It didn’t shake off the feeling that you had made a terrible enemy that night. John eventually came to visit you in the first nightmare you had in years. One in which he was standing victorious over Giuliano’s lifeless body who laid on the altar of the Duomo, the holy cloth covered in his blood.

#johnny au #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines #johnny fic #johnny angst #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #johnny smut

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jangofctts · 5 years ago

Text

Between Everything and Nothing (Cassian Andor x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: It's hard to keep your chin up when it seems like everything is falling apart. You're plagued by constant nightmares, but you have Cassian and Cassian has you. It's enough.

Warnings: Smut (duh), language, mad dirty talk, oral sex female receiving, bunch of Cassian love over here

You'd been crying again. Or plagued by nightmares. Maybe both.

Dark swatches lingered like bruises beneath your red rimmed eyes that vacantly stared at your plate. Your fork trailed through the rations absentmindedly, your mouth pressed into an unusual frown. Cassian used to despise your playful quips and teasing chuckles, the man much more used to silence and his own thoughts than someone like you.

Now, though, as the metal tongs of your cutlery scraped against the plate for the hundredth time, he abruptly realized how much he hated your silence. It wasn't right—unnatural and off-putting.

He said your name, the first attempt at catching your attention flying right over your head. The second time your eyes, such curious and bright eyes, fluttered and shot up to meet his. The roguish grin that followed after tugged at something deep inside his chest.

"Hey—sorry," you hummed. "What was that?"

Cassian shook his head. "You need to eat."

"This stuff?" You laughed, scooping up the mush and letting it drip off your fork. It tasted as bad as it looked. "I'd rather get shipped off permanently to droid maintenance."

"That can be arranged," he quipped. "I would finally get some peace and quiet."

"Ha. Ha." You said, rolling you eyes. "You couldn't last a day without missing me, Captain Andor."

He hates that you're right.

"Just eat."

With a grumble you shovel a mouthful in and stick your tongue out.

-=-

He catches you this time.

His own nightmares had clawed their way to the surface and ripped away precious sleep. He'd wandered to the hangar, feet carrying him towards his U-Wing in hopes he'd be able to find something to tinker with. Though it was a long shot. You were the best damn mechanic he'd ever encountered and Cassian would bet money that his ship could fly better than any fighter ship in the Alliance thanks to you.

He only hears something when he's halfway up the loading ramp, choked sobs and the occasional sniff of someone in the cockpit of his ship. He draws his blaster and rounds the corner. Shoot first and ask questions later.

Cassian freezes once he recognizes those stupid slipper things you'd won off some poor bastard in Sabaac and the ratty old tank top you refused to throw away.

You were curled into his seat, knees drawn up so closely to your chest that it hides your face as your shoulders shake from the force of your tears.

His instincts screamed at him to run. Leave before she notices. Leave and pretend she's ok.

Yet, at the same time, a deep ache settles within his chest to see you like this. He wants to reach out. Wants to slip his fingers through your hair and cradle you to his chest and pretend for just a moment that nothing but you two existed.

He must've made some sort of sound because before he gets to decide to flee or face you, you look up.

"Cassian?" You sniff, your voice hoarse and wobbly as you wipe at your tears. "What-what are you doing here?"

He takes a step closer. "This is my ship."

"Oh. Yeah." You choke out with a broken half smile. "I guess it is."

You unfurl yourself from the seat, using your forearm to frantically scrub at the stray beads and try to hurry past him with a whispered goodnight. He's fast enough to catch your arm.

His slender fingers are warm against your bare skin, his calloused thumb skittering over smooth flesh and hard muscle. The urge to trail his entire palm up and down the expanse of your arm is torturous and he wonders if you've always been this soft.

You're looking up at him now, the emergency lights casting your features in a haunting red glow. Cassian can still see your eyes in the near darkness, something dark and vulnerable eating away at the edges. He parts his mouth to say something, ask what's wrong, but he can't seem to get the words out. He falters and drops your arm.

"Cassian," you say, much softer than he's ever heard it from you. It makes his heart flutter like a caged bird. "I—"

"You can stay." He cuts you off, something snarling in his stomach at the thought of you leaving. "I don't mind."

Your brows crease and you study the floor and when you look up again, your face is fixed with another goofy grin. It doesn't quite reach your eyes and if Cassian didn't know you as well as he did, it would have him fooled.

"Thanks," you sniff, backtracking towards the ramp so suddenly it jars him. "Didn't mean to cry all over your chair. Pretty gross, huh?"

He follows and murmurs your name as you step onto the duracrete. This time as Cassian moves to grab your arm again you evade him. He's scrambling for words to keep you here, but nothing springs to mind and you escape.

"Night, Cass." You say, offering him a half hearted salute. "See ya tomorrow."

You disappear behind an X-Wing and Cassian regrets not following.

-=-

The third time is after after the Alliance had been hit hard. Hard enough that you lose more than a handful of friends. You don't grieve openly. You can't.

You were a beacon of light and warmth for many and letting them see the fissures in your resolve would surely cause spirits to plummet even further. Cassian doesn't know wether to feel lucky that he knows that half of yourself you hide away or devastated that even someone with a soul brighter than any star could be worn down to the very bones of their existence.

He wants to laugh when someone knocks on his door. It was the first time in months he'd been able to sleep with little difficulty and now he's being called upon in the middle of the night.

He throws open the door, ready to snarl at the poor soul who stood on the other side. Cassian's irritation melts away when he sees you. You look as tired as he feels, your hair a bit of a mess from a sleepless night, and yet, you're still so beautiful.

Your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip and he can't help but trace your mouth.

"Did I wake you up?" You ask, fiddling with your sleeve. You're nervous for once and Cassian worries.

"No." He lies.

A long pause ensues as you struggle for words that normally flow like a river from your lips. You start to say something and it fizzles out then comes out backwards or jumbled or too quiet for Cassian to understand. "You know—I should, uh, I should go. Yeah, I'm gonna leave. Sorry about—about bothering you."

You're quick to turn on your heel, but he's quicker and snatches your hand. He doesn't tell you how perfectly your fingers fit into his, but you must know. Right?

"Stay," he whispers, the word sounding much too loud compared to the hauntingly silent hallway. He takes your silence for fear or embarrassment, but he realizes it is surprise and a moment later he's stepping aside to let you in.

Cassian retreats back to his bed, sheets still warm and sits down. Your eyes are scanning the room, studying the sparse walls and the unfolded pile of laundry abandoned on his only chair. You've been to his quarters before, usually only to get him to go with you to the cantina or keep you company while you work on his ship.

It's different now. Tension thick enough to cut with a lightsaber.

"I'm assuming you're not here to tell me you got caught cheating in Sabaac again, yes?" He tries to joke. It does the trick and you visibly relax with a chuckle.

You wander over to where he pats the space beside him and you crash onto the mattress, bumping your shoulder into his. His heart skips a beat when you don't lean away. "Nah. And if it weren't for me cheating, your sorry ass would still be in that stupid jail."

Ah, that's right.

Cassian snorts. "I had it handled."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," you retort.

With a sigh, you lean back until you're spread out over his blankets, your legs hanging off the edge. Cassian lies down too and stares at the uneven texture of the ceiling. You say nothing for the better half of ten minutes, and Cassian wonders if you'd fallen asleep. He turns and you've got that vacant stare where you're lost in your head. It gives him an excuse to study the soft planes of your face, your plush lips slightly pursed in thought as your brows furrow. A stray hair covers your forehead and he wants to brush it away.

His heart pounds at his ribcage and with a brief moment of courage, he does so. You blink and look at him, a fragile smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

He finds the words that escaped him in his ship all those nights ago and he asks you why you're here. Are you alright?

Your grin falters and you look away. Your fingers graze against his knuckles and they twitch into your touch but makes no move to fully encompass your hand.

Your words come out slow and soft and his chest tightens. "You—You are the only thing that makes sense to me, Cassian."

He understands and his fingers curl around yours to show that he does. Your breath stutters and you give him a squeeze.

Stray tears trail down your cheek and Cassian props himself onto an elbow. You avoid his gaze. "Look at me."

You listen and with baited breath he cups your face and gently swipes at a tear with his thumb. You mouth his name and he's leaning into you until he's pressing his lips to yours. You melt underneath his kiss, your hand curling into his hair, the other one still tangled with his. Your touch is intoxicating and Cassian deepens the kiss, tongue trailing across your bottom lip. Your mouth opens and his tongue slides along yours.

You part and he rests his forehead on yours as your fingers caress his stubbled cheek. He suppresses a shiver and leans into your touch. "I've wanted to do that for ages."

"Yeah, me too."

He kisses you again, but it's more than that. You're the undertow of a raging sea, sweeping him into your depths and holding him captive until he can't breath. Yet, you're the only thing he can inhale. He could drown in your scent, in your kisses, in your love, and he doesn't care if it kills him. You make a sound low in your throat as he licks deep into your mouth and he doesn't care if your teeth click together because he's desperate and aching for you.

You bite his bottom lip and tug, paired with your hand giving the soft tufts of hair on the back of his neck a gentle yank and he's so fucking gone. He's already half-hard against your hip, he knows you can feel it because you're flashing him a coy smirk and trailing your fingers down the planes of his chest, over his naval and then you're unbuckling his belt. Your fingers hover over his waistband, drawing teasing circles above where he needs you and his patience snaps. He captures your hand and grinds against you and you finally relent

He sucks in a breath like you've punched him in the jaw as your fingers wriggle underneath the fabric and wrap around his cock, thick and hot. You give him a few gentle strokes and then your thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting the bead of moisture there. You lightly scrape your nail across the frenulum and it nearly sends him over the edge and he rips himself away from you. It's embarrassing how fast you bring him towards release and he shouldn't care with you, but he wants this to last.

You sit up as your face contorts and he doesn't mean to hurt your feelings. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, never," he breaths, leaning forward to kiss away your frown. "I liked that a little too much."

You mouth forms a silent 'oh' and you take this little break to pull off your shirt and your pants that end up crumpled on the floor. You're naked and you look like a damn fantasy curled over his bed. His bed. Maker how many times has he imagined this exact moment?

Cassian rips his own clothes off and he's tugging your thighs around his narrow waist so he can mold himself onto you. He plants his lips over the pulse on your throat and he digs his teeth into your flesh, marking the delicate skin there. You whine, huff out his name, and he releases the bruised skin. He presses a kiss against it, likes the way it stands out, and he continues to tongue and nibble over the column of your throat that you readily expose for him until there's a trail of marks left behind.

Soft, fragile sounds are pouring out of your mouth and he wishes he could save them for an eternity. He mouths over your collarbone and trails on hand up to your breast and he pulls back to admire your heaving chest. A tiny smile is etched across your lips and his heart swells so much that his chest aches. "You're beautiful."

He doesn't think he's ever seen you blush. "Shut up."

"You are," he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss over your sternum. "You're--fuck--so distracting. Nearly--nearly crashed the ship that one time. Remember?"

You dig your fingers into his back, leaving half-moon shapes behind as he brushes his thumb over your peaked nipple, as you whine out a response. With his tongue he swirls teasing circles around the other nipple and when he sucks it between his lips and bites down carefully, you moan and arch into him. He rolls the other one firmly between his forefinger and thumb, your eyes snapping shut.

"I can hardly stand it when you smile at me," he growls, engulfing the entirety of you breast in his warm palm. He gives the flesh a squeeze. "Shit--I love you."

He barely realizes he's told you and it's not as terrifying as he thought it would be. There is some uncertainty but when you open your eyes and flash him a smile so bright and big he thinks his heart might finally explode, all his doubts are blown away. You drag Cassian back to your lips by the jaw and he feels your bottom lip catch against his as you tell him you love him too.

"Will you...will you let me taste you?" He groans, breaking away to bury his nose into your hair. "Please? I've been--been imagining what you--shit-- taste like. I bet--bet you taste good."

"Cassian," you whine, bucking your hips. His cock is throbbing against your hip, harder than reinforced steel but all he can think about is getting his mouth on the dripping wetness between your legs. "Yes. Yes."

He sweeps down your torso, drunk on your skin and suckles another hickey over the protrusion of your hip bone. Cassian hooks your legs over his shoulders and nuzzles his stubble along the velvety skin feeling oh so lucky when you giggle and slip your hands into his hair. Your laugh tapers off into a desperate sigh as he uses just the tip of his forefinger to slip through your slit, the digit coming away shiny with your arousal. He parts your legs wider and finally swipes his tongue over your clit, moaning as he finally gets to taste you.

His mouth his searing hot and his tongue feels like silk as he swipes it over your lips, suckles at your labia and licks back up to your clit. He traces patterns across it, the tip of tongue catching so deliciously and then he dips back down again. You shudder as his thumbs slide up to gently part your cunt and his tongue leaves a burning trail until he reaches your opening. He has to throw an arm over your hips to keep you from squirming so much, and Maker, you feel Cassian smile before he licks as far into you as he can.

You're burning, broken pleas and drawn out moans of his name pouring out of you. And then, any kind of rational thinking is completely thrown out the fucking window as two of his slender fingers sink into your cunt. They curl inside you, brush against something electrifying, and you can't be bothered to be embarrassed about the keening moan that's much too loud for this time of night. It feels too good. You bite your lip and clench a handful of his hair, the vibration of his groan adding on to the pleasure of him sucking at your clit while his fingers slowly begin to drag in and out of you.

He pulls away for a moment, his hot breath fanning over your cunt and you want to cry out in frustration. Your core clenches around his digits at the loss of his tongue and you try to pull him back to you. "Please."

With his free hand, he rubs your thigh and kisses the inside of your knee. "Can I make you cum like this? Let...let you--shit--let you finish over my tongue? You'll look so pretty for me."

You don't know how it's possible to be even more turned on than you are, but it happens and you can feel yourself dripping on to his fingers and leaking over the sheets. His fingers are curling and twisting into something that's got your thighs shaking and fuck. A few more passes of his tongue over your swollen clit and another well placed thrust of his fingers--you're fucking gone.

You arch your back as everything below your waist is set on fire. The tension in your stomach--wound tighter than a fucking spool of wire--snaps and blinding light flashes across your vision. Your core clamps down on his calloused digits and you cum into his mouth, a flood of wetness staining his mouth that continues to lick you through it. He's moaning and hooking his hands under your ass to pull you closer as you twitch and shake--your brain lost somewhere between chaos and unsurmountable pleasure.

Things feel as if they're in slow-motion as you slowly come back down to reality. Cassian pulls away from your core, wipes at his mouth that's covered with your slick, and slips his body next to your flushed and panting one. He draws shapes and swirls into the space right below your breast and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. He's whispering about how good you were for him, how soft and warm, and wet around his fingers you were and when you're finally able to process and organize your scattered thoughts, he's dragging you into an open mouthed kiss.

You can taste yourself on him and he grinds his cock against the swell of your hip, leaking precum that dribbles onto your skin. He bites at your shoulder, another bolt of arousal shooting through your belly.

"Let me make you feel good."

#rogue one #star wars #cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #this pure filth y'all #reader insert #diego luna #fanfic #smut

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drstone-writings · 5 years ago

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POMEGRANATE TEAAA PWEEEASE :3

Hi, anon! I don’t know which character you have ordered LMAO that’s why I chose the five generals ft. Tsukasa! I hope you will like this one! 💚💚

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

pomegranate tea; at what point did they know they loved their s/o?

—Senku Ishigami

Senku doesn’t know about the feeling of love, yes. But, he knows that he likes you, not in deep meaning, but instead, in an admiration way for having the basic knowledge of science and also for having incredible stamina that God didn’t grant him. Not only that, but you’d also try to help him in some way when he was in need of something, you’re always there to aid him despite not needing some assistance. However, one faithful day, Senku had realized that he felt the strong emotion that was permeating inside his heart, an unknown and strange emotion yet he had the knowledge of what it was. Who would expect that the scientist who called love as illogical was now in a situation where he felt such sentiment towards a person, and now admitted to himself that he is indeed in love with you. When did he realize it?

It’s actually the time where the sun had finally descended and the moon was now present in the vast sky. He saw you sitting on the tree branch where Kohaku would usually sleep on, staring into space where countless of stars covering the dark firmament. If you were Kohaku, he would only shrug you off and let himself stare at the sky as well and climb on the roof of the hut. However, it’s not the case. His eyes were transfixed on you, whose face has this tranquil and contented expression, eyes were sparkling in wonder as you watch the stars twinkling with the others.

Senku was captivated; he was entranced at your beautiful face, seemingly glowing due to the moonlight striking every crevice of your features, defining every little of it. You don’t know how charming you look in Senku’s eyes, he felt like his vision was becoming blurry but only focused on you, like a camera where it would only focus on the thing that is beautiful.

Suddenly, you turned your gaze at him and flashed your utmost sweet smile that he had never received before from you, he was caught off guard and as if the time had slowed down and the Earth had stopped from rotating from its orbit. He had no idea as well as to why he could also felt his heart thumping in excitement and felt the butterflies flapping inside his abdomen. But earlier he wasn’t feeling this, only now when he settled his eyes on you. And that’s when Senku came into a realization.

“Fuck, I love her do I?” he snickered while running his fingers through his hair.

— Gen Asagiri

Gen is a cunning man, a man where he could easily discern what others were thinking and feeling. Like duh? He was called a mentalist for a reason. Ever since the day where he suddenly appeared in the Ishigami village and met you, he felt the urge within him that he wants to know you for some unidentified reason. That is why Gen ventured to approach you at the first day, he thought that you would hate his guts because he was one of Tsukasa’s underlings and you knew that he might be the reason that your friend will die in front of your eyes.

However, it was just his mere assumption, he was taken aback at your approach to him, and he assumed that you would ignore him for the whole day but instead, you talked to him as if the two of you were back in the modern era. He was utterly stunned and found it comical, to be honest. Gen abruptly felt he’s special or something since you would even bestow him a sincere smile and talk to him as if your friend is not in danger.

Gen is known as the magician as well, there’s a time where he would occasionally show you his magic tricks in which you were amazed because you don’t know how he did that. Ahh, you don’t know how you’re heightening Gen’s confidence and he couldn’t help but widely smile internally because of how you praise him. He knew to himself that he was indeed attracted to you; he likes you as a woman.

Gen only realized that he surely fell into your gravity at the day where he was nearly killed by Magma. You’re the one who stayed beside him and treating his wounds with Senku’s herbal medicines. Every time you would patch some herbs on the bruises that he had received, he felt some electricity flowing through his veins whenever he could feel the graze of your fingers on his skin so tenderly that it seemed like you were some angel playing the harp and for Gen, he was the instrument you’re playing. In the middle of the night where he suddenly woke up because he felt something heavy on his arms, and thus, he saw you sleeping quietly beside him, making his left arm as your pillow. Gen felt his heart flutter at the sight, and thus he was certain.

“You caught me, (Name). You indeed caught me with your charms.”

— Chrome

We all know that Chrome likes Ruri to the point where he tried to collect many materials for decades to save her and treat her unknown illness. But we also know that feelings are like a climate, they change in no time. Before, his eyes were only set on Ruri because ever since they were little, they’ve been always together and they knew each other. However, fate seemed like to mess up with his life. Ever since Senku and you had suddenly appeared in the village, his life changed immediately and his feelings turned into chaos.

Why? It’s because he couldn’t avert his gaze away from you every time you’d give him a saccharine smile and praise him for giving lots of ideas and creating things that he doesn’t know that it already exists in your age, despite that he doesn’t have any knowledge on what it looks like. Chrome could feel his stomach flipping whenever you’d also pat his head and ruffle his hair, even his heart was pounding tremendously as if he couldn’t breathe.

Chrome convinced himself that it’s just a mere attraction and admiration and nothing deeper than that. He assured himself that his heart already belongs to Ruri and never would he love someone that isn’t her. But it was inevitable, it was uncontrollable for him not to gaze at you and fall in the depths of your world. It seemed like he became a marionette and you’re the one who’s controlling him with your hands.

One day, Chrome was sitting on the tree branch, thinking on what is going to happen in the grand bout. He’s aware that he’s not the fighter type, he only has the brains. He prayed to the Gods that they could win the bout and save Ruri’s life. As he was in his deep thoughts, suddenly he felt a slight blow of the wind had passed him, hence Chrome craned his neck to look beside him and he felt his heart thumped again for you. But what surprised him was when you swiftly ruffled his hair without his permission and flashed him your sincerest smile that absolutely captivated him. It seemed like you were glowing in this dark place, making it harder for him to avert his gaze. And that’s when Chrome finally accepted the reality; he really is indeed in love with you.

“You’re too irresistible for my own good, (Name),” Chrome thought, giving you a small smile as well.

— Ukyo Saionji

Ukyo has a soft spot for everyone; he dislikes war and especially shedding blood just for the sake of their own benefit and victory. Before he met you, he never felt this strange of emotion that he had this urge to stare and watch someone in every move that they would do, but today is not the same anymore. Between the battle of Tsukasa and Senku, he had suddenly gained a blow from protecting Senku, he was not severely injured but still, his muscles were aching and it’s making him difficult to move. He was about to ask Senku for some herbal medicine to treat himself, however, before he could get out from his tent, you suddenly walked in with some herbal medicine in your hands.

You’re the one who tended his wounds and even accompanied him inside his tent until he was perfectly healed. He was indeed grateful to you and even tried to joke around with him to cheer him up even though he was emotionally okay. Ever since that day, both of you started to know each other and would always search for more food for everyone. Being with you was enjoyable and he will admit that. You won’t let the awkwardness and silence to befall on you two and you would try to make him laugh in your own ways.

Ukyo never noticed that he was slowly becoming fond of your presence to the point when you were busy hanging out with Yuzuriha and helping her, he would check on you and even asked how your day was. He was seriously becoming fidgety and couldn’t stay still until he would take a glimpse at your face. Ukyo perceives you as the compassionate and generous person, of course, he knows about that since he has been observing you interacting with everyone.

But Ukyo only realizes that he has these romantic feelings for you and hardly fell for you is the day when Chrome’s excavation team which you were a part of it as well went to the Ishigami Village to spend the night after searching for the oil that Senku needs for the vessel. The children in the village had taken a liking to you and would even play with them after convincing you without any effort. Seeing you having fun with the kids, laughing and playing with them, you have no idea how he was so intoxicated at watching you. Why? It’s because in his view you were like a crystal clear lake in the middle of the unknown place, gloriously sparkling with the rays of the sun striking the surface of the water. He was utterly enthralled and could feel his heart beating quickly in every minute that would pass in just by staring at your pure and lovely face. That’s when he finally concluded;

“I won’t regret falling in love with you, right, (Name)?”

— Ryusui Nanami

Ahh, Ryusui, of course, your first rendezvous is nothing important to him; it’s like the usual encounters he had back in your era. When he first laid his eyes on you, he definitely admitted to himself that you’re beautiful… in your own way by all means. Because Ryusui had this ideology that women in the world are beautiful. Which is actually nice to hear from a charming and rich guy but to you, you don’t really care. At first, when he tried to compliment your good looks, you only gave him a wry smile before saying your thanks. He thought that you would be embarrassed about it but it’s actually the contradiction of his presumption.

Apparently, you piqued Ryusui’s interest to which he didn’t stop from trying to get to know you and use his good communication skills. To be honest, this is the first time he has been so eager to know someone, it’s all strange to him. In spite of that, he will attempt to know you better. Don’t underestimate the Nanami heir. As the days passed by pestering you while in your work, he finally got what he wanted by knowing you, he assumed that he might have a hard time from knowing about yourself, but instead, it was easy-peasy for him since you’re answering his questions in an instant.

Since Ryusui’s daily routine is to bother you in your work or would even watch you help the others with their tasks, he suddenly felt himself smiling unconsciously while watching you. He only noticed it when Suika asked him as to why he’s smiling at himself. He immediately composed himself and left without saying anything, because his mind was swirling with a lot of thoughts, including the question that Suika had asked him. But what was overwhelming his mind is why he’s enjoying on watching you and felt something fluttering inside his stomach. These new emotions that were popping like a mushroom were making him confused because first of all, it was all too foreign for him.

After a week of not visiting and seeing you since he was trying to distinguish the different emotions that he was feeling. One faithful night really changed Ryusui in a wink. Sitting inside his cabin and was in his deep thoughts, he suddenly heard a knock on his cabin’s door; hence he checked it out to know who the one was bothering him in this late at night. Once he opened the door, his eyes widened upon seeing you in his doorstep, holding a basket of fruits in your hand. You told him that you were checking up on him since you haven’t seen each other for a week and you’re worried for him. After that meeting, you don’t know how Ryusui’s heart fluttered knowing that you’re concerned for him and made his ego boosted to the highest level. He was beyond pleased at what you said that night, for Ryusui you’re like the tidal waves in his expedition with his vessel, seemingly drawing him towards an unknown place which is for him, your world. Ryusui only laughed at himself for not noticing it sooner, he couldn’t believe himself that he fell in love after thousands of years.

“How unexpected of me, you surely caught my heart, (Name), you’re the only one who can do that.”

— Tsukasa Shishio

Back in your generation, you have always been beside the well-known strongest primate high schooler, Shishio Tsukasa. He met you during winter; he was sitting on a bench in the quiet playground. The snow was falling on him and he couldn’t care less about how cold it was since his mind was deep in thoughts, thinking about how he could save his little sister. And all of sudden, you appeared out of nowhere and held the umbrella over him. After that first meeting with him, that’s also the beginning of your friendship with him.

When Tsukasa was revived by Senku and killed him with his own hands, he built his own empire to only revive the youth and shatter the statues of the older ones. The first one who he revived was you, he was relentlessly looking for your statue and he actually managed to find you in just a day. He told you everything and you quickly caught up with his explanation but you didn’t agree with his ideology since you don’t want him to become a murderer. Nevertheless, you only leave him be even if you’re strongly opposed to him.

In months of living in this stone world, Tsukasa has been observing you and watching you talking with everyone. He was glad that you’re adjusting to this kind of living and trying to get along with all the people that he had revived. He knew how understanding and kind-hearted you were, that’s why it didn’t take him a while to give you his trust and befriended you. He reminisces all the memories that you both had, starting from your first meeting and always there for him when he needed someone. You would listen to his ramblings and how you would lift his spirits up when he’s not in a good mood. Tsukasa couldn’t help but smile at the pleasant and valuable memories he had.

Winter arrived as the snow was piling up and covering the whole place. Tsukasa immediately remembered your first meeting again and smiled upon recalling it. He tried to look for you in your tent however you weren’t there, therefore he asked his comrades if he saw you, which he was kinda pleased when one answered him that you went to the cliff where you would usually hang out. Tsukasa didn’t waste a second to go to you, as he reached his destination, his eyes settled on your form who’s looking up while the snow was falling down on your face. He stared at you with pursed lips, trying to engrave it in his mind how stunning you look with the winter scenery the lies before you. Suddenly, he felt his heart pounded against his ribcage, he’s once again feeling the overwhelming emotions he’d felt when taking a glimpse at your face. He never tried to know these inexplicable feelings he harbored for you, but today, it seemed like he found his answer to his question. He loved you ever since, did he?

“How can I not love, (Name)? It’s inevitable not to love her.”

#dr stone #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami x reader #ryusui nanami x reader #gen asagiri x reader #chrome x reader #tsukasa shishio x reader #ukyo saionji x reader #ishigami senku x reader #nanami ryusui x reader #shishio tsukasa x reader #asagiri gen x reader #saionji ukyo x reader #dr stone imagines #dr stone scenarios

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hhuta · 4 years ago

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Oh my god you watched Dirk gently???? Yes!!! I rarely see people posts about it anymore and it was my favourite show for so long I'm so excited youve watched it!! Please share your thoughts 👀👀👀 I'm a starving man 😔 idk what to ask do I ask about your favourite character?? Your thoughts on the stuff that was gonna happen in s3??? Should I ask if you prefer s1 or s2??? Idk please thoughts

cooonnooorrrrrr u know the showwwww!!!!! aaaa!!

mY THOUGHTS ARE: dirk is my child and i will protect him forever.

literally all i can think about. i got so attached to him, i cant believe theres literally nOTHING ELSE OF HIM FOR ME TO WATCH. LIKE. ITS OVER??????? IM GONNA HAVE TO READ THE BOOKS THAT ARE VERY DIFFERENT FROM THE SHOW TO FILL THE VOID????????????????????? THIS IS WHY I STOPPED WATCHING TV SHOWS I HATE IT HERE

anyways. as u can see hes my fave character by far. i fell in love with him so fast :( hes so funny and dumb but also very smart 😔😔😔 and he suffered so much!!!!!!!!!! oh my god i wanted to fight everyone who was mean to him!!!!!!!!!! i only respect hobbs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love him too! i also love estevez and zimmerfield andnnnddd dodontnttt eveeennnn!!! getttt meee stARARTETDDDDD ON THEIIRRRRRR ENEDNDNINGGGSSSSS Because it doesnt exist. i dont acknowledge it. pure bullshit. i was truly close to te a r s during zimmerfield [redacted] scene???? did u??? did u see that shit????? THE TENDERNESS? WHAT THE F U CK WAS THAT ABOUT IM. im ok.

ah i love bart too so i fucking hATED HOW S2 ENDED FOR HER. WHY DIDNT SHE STAY WITH PANTO IN THE FAIRYTALE LAANNDDDDD OH MYGOODDDDDDD their dynamic was so good... and speaking of him, of course i love a gay icon, love his boyfriend too, another dumb gay!!! so many dumb gays. so much representation. im sad we didnt get to see a lot of them. i was so fuckign afraid they were also going to fucking die no i would riot!! i was ready to say "sO GLAD THIS GOT CANCELELDLDLD!!! OF COURSE THE GAYS GOT KILLED !!! NOT EVEN FICTIONAL FICTIONAL GAYS ARE SAFE!!" KJljdslklk i really was prepared for the worse after what happened to my other kings...... ill never get over that

and to be honest i was not vibing with the second season at first (probably, for sure..ly bc of what happened to my kings in s1. all these new characters were being introduced, i felt like pure shit just wanted them back. i couldnt properly enjoy it) also the whole.. fantasy thing.... is not my thing... idk... from the start, when i saw the fucking wand i wanted to scream dlkjas i knew it wasnt going to be for me. but i think it got better as it went on, it just didnt captivate me like the plot from s1. i didnt follow it as well? i enjoyed how i could easily pick up the little clues in s1 but tbh i think that just reflects dirk's state cuz we sorta follow his pov... he was v e r y lost during s2 and that rubbed on me!!! i didnt enJOYYYY ONE BITTT SEEING HIMMM SO FUCKING SAD... he was just sad and freaking out and he just needed a friend >:( and todd ugh he pissed me off a lot of the time dlkajskl........... ill never forget him saying dirk deserved to be alone 🚶‍♂️being a dirkette isnt easy.

but anyways its not like s2 was bad and dumb (im editing this and i just remember them trying to make todd/farah a thing. absolutely loathed that. that was bad and dumb. faratina for the win), the weird stuff did make sense in the end. of course thats what a child would imagine, even the scissors as weapons made sense. aND AMBOOLENTS. IDK IF U REMEMBER THAT BUT GOD IT MADE ME LAUGH SO MUCH. also suzie was a good villain and tina and hobbs were amazing 🥰aGAIN I WAS SO READY FOR ONE OR BOTH OF THEM TO DIE.... no this fear really ruined things for me lkdjalsk.... oh mona !!! lOVE HER TOO! shes so pretty, first of all. when i saw her glowing eyes in the first ep i was like heyyyy 💕ANyways her character???? like?? so interesting??? not knowing who shes supposed to be?!?!?! i got hooked right awayyyy when she said that

oh my god i wish s3 existed and it was about heeerrrr. mona and dirk would be great besties 😔 and he would finally have his actual detective agency :(((((( but do u mean what i want to happen or this that might have happened? cuz im only looking at dirk/assistent romance lkdjakls mister sir lieutenant assistent was funny and so brave for putting up with friedkin so hes prepared for dirks intelligent dumbness and i want to see dirk happy its a win win. TODD BEING A ROCKSTAR AGAIN YES! all the other stuff yes too except bart teaming up with ken idek why she would do that after he 1. became a dick and 2. betrayed her (PLUS he shot dirk, im resentful, therefore i hate him forever and i dont want bart near him ever again)

sooooooo unfair that the show only has 2 seasons..... its such a rich universe with good characters.... all of them.. amanda and farah got great character development.. i already miss it im so sad..... im strongly considering making a sideblog to reblog stuff..

but what are your thoughtssss? tell me anything !!! do u have a fave episode? since i just finished s2, i remember loving S2xE6. the concert aftermath was really funny also dirk in pink <3

fashion icon <33

#beware its 7 am and i havent slept.#asks

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crackimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Going Dark (FE: Three Houses Full Fic)

Overlord AU Masterlist

Other Au’s Listed Here!

---

With Ainz being transported to Fodlan unable to find out how the world works, he takes it upon himself to find out and prepare his followers and House Isekai for what’s to come.

Ainz dons his persona, the Dark Warrior Momon, once more to investigate Fodlan with his trusted companion Nabe.

Prologue

[Oath of Loyalty to the Supreme Being - Overlord]

Ainz sat down at a table the Pleiades had set up for him, big enough for the denizens of the Great Tomb of Nazarick to sit at. He was at the head of the table while his Floor Guardians took both sides of the table while the Pleiades stood to the side.

(Sebas) “Lord Ainz, everyone is now here. Shall we begin the emergency meeting?”

(Ainz) “Yes. Now, let us discuss the information we have gathered thus far on Fodlan.

(Albedo) “Then I will begin my findings first.”

She cleared her throat as her wings flapped gently.

(Albedo) “In terms of the people and technology, they appear to be slightly behind the world we were at before. While their number of magic casters appear to be higher, the levels of spells and power they wield seem to be lower than expected. This information was all gathered at the Monastery.”

(Cocytus) “AFTER CLOSELY STUDYING THE KNIGHTS OF SEIROS, THEIR RELICS AND FIGHTING CAPABILITIES APPEAR TO BE ON PAR WITH THOSE OF OUR OLD WORLD. THE RELIC WEAPONS ARE NOT TO BE UNDERESTIMATED, BUT I AM UNABLE TO DETERMINE WHETHER OR NOT THEY ARE A THREAT TO US IN PARTICULAR. HOWEVER, THE LOW LEVEL MOBS AND UNDEAD WE SPAWNED NEAR THE MONASTERY TO SEE HOW POWERFUL THEY ARE, THE KNIGHTS OF SEIROS HAVE BEEN ABLE TO TAKE THEM DOWN EASILY. THIS INFORMATION WAS GATHERED AT THE MONASTERY.”

(Demiurge) “The politics of this world appear to be a bit more stable, with the Church of Seiros leading everyone. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance appear to be pleased with the Church, but something about Edelgard’s actions and words seem to say otherwise. At least regarding the Adrestian Empire. I will need more time to fully assess her intentions, along with Rhea. This information was gathered at the Monastery as well.”

Ainz took a moment to process all the information given to him. Truth be told, he could not care less about the politics of this world. It wasn’t the one the tomb was in, so he just wanted to return as quickly as possible.

The issue that bothered him the most was the unknown power difference in Fodlan.

In his world, he was practically a god to everyone, and most of his followers couldn’t even be harmed by their most powerful weapons. He and the others of Nazarick were mostly level 100, while the strongest in that world appeared to be around 40-50.

Now, he had no idea if he was underpowered or not.

Ainz looked at his own hands and then back to the Floor Guardians.

(Ainz) “Aura, Mare, do you feel any limitations in your spellcasting?”

They were quiet for a moment before they nodded.

(Aura) “Y-Yes actually, Lord Ainz. Something hasn’t been feeling right ever since we got here, and I think that’s the issue!”

Everyone turned to the twins with wide eyes.

[”What’s wrong, Lord Momonga?” - Overlord]

(Mare) “U-U-Um...I don’t feel like I’ve completely been stripped of power but...something IS missing.”

Everyone else in the room started to examine themselves and realized that some of their abilities did feel dampened.

This made Ainz even more tense, though his skeletal face didn’t show it.

He had no idea what they would be up against in this world, and from the looks of what assignments House Isekai was assigned, this world wouldn’t stay peaceful for long.

The fact people like Class VII with their advanced guns and technology struggled against some of the people here, and Persona users were having trouble with what should be inferior foes was almost enough to make him shudder.

He had no doubt that his group were in the upper tier of power in the House, there would be no telling what kind of curveballs could be thrown at them, especially since he didn’t know how magic worked in this world.

In his world, it worked like an MMO. Now, it was a complete unknown.

Ainz couldn’t afford to be careless here.

(Ainz) “It appears we need to gather information from beyond the Monastery in order to fully understand the situation we’re in. I want everyone to take no chances. There’s no telling if Fodlan possesses enemies more dangerous than our old ones. From what I can gather, we have been limited in our skills and spells. Not completely gone, but that must mean precautions must be taken more than ever.”

Ainz stood up from the table.

(Ainz) “I want everyone to be travelling in pairs when gathering information. You are not to be permitted to travel outside the Monastery unless you have my blessings. Narberal Gamma!”

(Naberal) “My lord.”

(Ainz) “Prepare your adventurer gear and be ready to leave with me.”

(Albedo) “Lord Ainz, are you-”

(Ainz) “I intend to go as Momon in this world, yes.”

(Sebas) “My lord, with all due respect, it would be much better to send the Pleiades out in reconnaissance. The risk of going out is terribly great-”

(Ainz) “That is precisely why I am going out myself. I need to understand firsthand how this world works, otherwise we may commit a grave error in the long run. We have no idea how long we will be here, and when we will return. I understand and appreciate your concern, Sebas. That goes for the rest of you.”

Ainz was about to announce the meeting’s end before noticing Yuri’s expression.

The other Pleiades noticed it too, and Lupisregina tapped her on the shoulder.

(Lupisregina) “Sis?”

(Yuri) “...”

Yuri quietly motioned towards the door with her head.

Everyone understood immediately. There was someone listening in.

They drew out their weapons and prepared their magic silently as CZ2128 and Narberal quickly headed to the side of the walls.

CZ pulled out an assault rifle while Narberal pulled out a staff.

The two battle maids looked at Ainz for the signal.

(Ainz) “Very well, this meeting is adjourned.”

Narberal kicked the door down as CZ aimed her rifle down at the hallway, finger on the trigger

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

(CZ) “Identify yourselves or die in the name of Ainz Ooal-”

(Aqua) “AQUAAAAA!”

(Kazuma) “KAZUMA! KAZUMA! IT’S KAZUMA, DON’T FUCKING SHOOT!”

[My Dear Personage - Overlord]

Everyone’s faced turned from tense to completely disappointed and annoyed.

(Shalltear) “What are those idiots doing down here?!”

Ainz walked out to meet them.

(Ainz) “Explain yourselves, now.”

(Kazuma) “W-WE WERE JUST WONDERING WHY YOU ALL WERE DOWN HERE!”

(Aqua) “Y-YEAH! ALL OF US SAW YOU GOING DOWN SO WE WERE CURIOUS! IT WAS EVERYONE ELSE’S IDEA TOO!”

(Ainz) “...Everyone else?”

Minako, Minato, Yu, Akira, Doomguy, Rean, and Megumi popped their heads around the corner.

(Yu) “Uh...hi.”

(Akira) “I mean, I’m a Phantom Thief. Eavesdropping’s my thing.”

(Minako) “I’m just nosy.”

(Minato) “S-Sorry.”

(Rean) “We were just concerned is all! Well, at least me and Megunee were.”

(Megumi) “H-Hi, Ainz...!”

Doomguy shrugged.

HOW DID WE NOT NOTICE ANY OF THEM?!

(Narberal) “You insects DARE TO EAVESDROP ON LORD AINZ?! I WILL CUT YOU DOWN WHERE YOU STAND IF LORD AINZ PERMI-”

(Ainz) “H-HEY HEY HEY! CALM DOWN!”

Ainz frantically waved his hands to calm her down, and which he turned back to Kazuma.

(Ainz) “AND WHAT THE HELL KAZUMA?! WHY’D YOU-”

Before Ainz could panic any further, he felt his emotions suddenly calm down as a blue glow emitted around him.

(Ainz) “...ahem...It was only House Isekai that followed us here, correct?”

(Megumi) “Y-Yes. Everyone else is unaware that you’re even gone!”

Ainz sighed internally and shook his head.

(Ainz) “You’re lucky that I was here to stop them. If you did that while I was absent, I’m fairly positive you all would have died. Regardless, how much did you hear?”

(Aqua) “Well um...the entire thing.”

(Yu) “W-Well, just so that we didn’t get your heart rate up for nothing, since we’ve been here a little longer, we can provide specifics on what we’ve seen!”

(Minako) “Oh yeah, that’s right! We’ve been doing a field study or two outside!”

(Megumi) “Doomguy, Sara, and I have been working with the church.”

(Ainz) “...Well, I suppose you will be of use then. We speak not a word of our information to the church, or any of the other houses. Understood?”

Everyone nodded.

Ainz at first suspected that some of House Isekai might tell the others, but when he thought about it a bit more, who in their right mind would want to betray House Isekai?

All of them were in the same boat as the others.

If they made enemies of anyone, then there’s a good chance they won’t be coming back alive to their world. Cooperation is absolutely vital for everyone here.

Still, couldn’t hurt to be careful.

(Ainz) “Demiurge.”

(Demiurge) “My lord?”

(Ainz) “Collect the information House Isekai has gathered and see if we can find anything of use. Even mundane details might help us in the long run. Everyone else, as of this moment, House Isekai is under my protection. That does not extend to the Golden Deer, Blue Lions, or Black Eagles.”

(Everyone) “Yes, Lord Ainz!”

Naberal walked behind him as the House representatives went into the room to discuss with Demiurge.

(Ainz) “Now, Naberal. Let’s get going, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

[Overlord Opening]

---

Side Story:

The Raven-Black Warrior

[First, Let’s Gather Information - Overlord]

The first thing that the people of Garreg Mach’s town noticed that day was how bright the sun was shining. It was a blinding but comforting light.

The second thing they noticed was the man and woman that they had never seen before.

She wore a simple brown cloak, but she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen.

He was just as captivating, for an entirely different reason. He was extremely tall and wore armor as black as night, complemented with a golden trim that accented his body.

The two swords he had on his back were bigger than the woman who was accompanying him.

No one knew their names but everyone was too afraid to ask, letting them go on their way.

Guards took notice of them and kept a close eye if they attempted anything, they were the most suspicious people in the past few months alone.

(Nabe) “It appears that adventurers don’t appear to be part of this world. Everyone is staring at us.”

(Momon) “Well that’s how it was back then, but you seem to be right. They seem to be less in awe and more on guard. Not that I blame them.”

In his old world, Ainz and Narberal posed as adventurers, Momon and Nabe, looking for quests and worked their way up from the bottom to the top for their heroism and the way they blew through quests.

It seems like the MMO aspects were completely alien in Fodlan, judging by the way everyone looked at them with fear.

When they found their way into the Inn, the same reaction was made by everyone inside.

There wasn’t anything noteworthy inside the inn, not the people or the decor.

He went to the counter and took a seat. There was a woman in knight’s armor next to him, but Ainz didn’t pay any mind to her. She was most likely a guard on break or something. The innkeeper turned around and jumped at the towering man in armor before her.

(Innkeeper) “M-May I help you?”

(Momon) “How much for the night?”

(Innkeeper) “Uh...100 gold.”

Ainz reached inside his belt and pulled out a small pouch. Looking inside, it was only 50 gold.

(Momon) “...I only have 50.”

(Innkeeper) “Then I’m sorry. We cannot allow you to stay.”

Nabe’s face scrunched up, insulted that her highness should even have to pay for a room. Already knowing how she is in this situation, Ainz raised his hand.

(Momon) “Then that’s fine. I’ll just take a drink. Ale’s fine.”

The innkeeper nodded and went to get the drink as requested.”

(Female Knight) “Psh, all that fancy armor and you can’t even get a room. Money well spent.”

The two turned to the woman who finished chugging down her mug.

(Momon “Hm?”

Upon closer inspection,the woman had messy blond hair, and the knight’s uniform seemed to be of higher craft.

It was then Ainz noticed her sword. It was some jagged and uneven yellow sword. His thoughts were interrupted from Narberal’s reply.

(Nabe) “Watch your tongue.”

(Momon) “Nabe-”

(Female Knight) “Ah, yeah no that’s my bad. Didn’t mean any offense!”

The knight turned towards Ainz and smiled.

(Female Knight) “Just saying that if you spent the money to get that bad boy made, I don’t blame ya one bit! Not to mention those swords too. Jeez, you aren’t compensating for anything, are ya?”

Ainz laughed.

(Momon) “I could ask you the same thing. That blade of yours isn’t just for show, is it?”

(Female Knight) “What, you mean Thunderbrand? Hah, I bet it could kick your butt in a fight!”

Nabe frowned and was clearly getting annoyed at her gloating.

Ainz was starting to take a bit of liking to this woman. It reminded him of a player who was bragging about their gear and how hard they worked for it, daring anyone to take them on in PVP.

Thankfully, he was in a situation where testing his abilities was necessary.

(Momon) “That’s a bet I’d be willing to take.”

(Female Knight) “You’re on! It’s been a while since I’ve fought someone who looks like they can back up their talk!”

The ale was brought to Ainz. He grabbed the mug and motioned it towards the female knight.

(Momon) “Name’s Momon.”

The female knight hit Momon’s cup with hers and nodded.

(Female Knight) “Momon, eh? That’s a strange name. I’m-”

The door burst open, a blue haired woman dressed in dark green running in.

(Blue Woman) “Catherine!”

(Catherine) “Bah, hang on. Shamir, what’s going on?”

Shamir walked up to Catherine and cut in front of Ainz and Narberal.

(Shamir) “We’ve located the enemy camp, but there’s far more than we expected.”

(Catherine) “Who’s going with us?”

(Shamir) “Us, Jeralt, Alois and a few recruits. The rest of the knights are still investigating the Death Knight.”

Catherine finished the rest of her drink in a single gulp and turned to Ainz.

(Catherine) “Shame, looks like our duel’s gonna have to wait!”

Right as she was about to get up, Ainz spoke up.

(Ainz) “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to accept some help?”

(Shamir) “You a merc?”

(Ainz) “Adventurer. We’re new to the country and my friend and I are here looking for work.”

(Catherine) “Huh. Talk about convenient.”

(Shamir) “Might not get paid, that alright with you?”

Momon got up and nodded.

(Momon) “Fine by me. Let’s get going.”

Wasting no time, the four of them headed out of the inn and towards the outskirts of town.

Later...

[Non-Player Character - Overlord]

As they walked down the road, Narberal continued to frown at Catherine and Shamir.

(Momon) sigh “Nabe, is this about-”

(Nabe) “Yes it is, Loooorrrr-...ahem, Momon.”

(Momon) “We’ve been over this. Do not hold it against people if they treat me the way they do.”

(Nabe) sigh “It’s something I can never fully be comfortable with-”

(Momon) “Nabe, I brought you with me because you’ve been with me the longest out in the field. I appreciate your concern but-”

Momon stopped talking when he noticed that Catherine was slowing down a bit to walk side by side with them.

(Catherine) “So, where do you two come from?”

(Momon) “Ah, we come from the Alliance.”

(Catherine) “Any house? Heard your lady friend call you a lord.”

Ainz internally sighed while Nabe’s face flinched.

(Momon) “That’s something we’d rather not discuss.”

(Catherine) “Ah, I understand that. Wouldn’t wanna deal with nobles all the time myself when I can just go where I please. That freedom is nice.”

(Momon) “So what exactly are we fighting?”

(Shamir) “Bandits. Some monsters and demonic beasts started attacking nearby villages, but we managed to put them down pretty easily. Now we just have to deal with the bandits raiding the survivors. They think nothing can stop them since the knights are busy with other tasks.”

(Momon) “And who do you all work for?”

(Catherine) “Lady Rhea and the Church of Seiros. Specifically, we’re the Knights of Seiros, a division of elite warriors meant to enforce her will.”

(Momon) “Has there been any other cases of monsters near the Monastery?”

(Catherine) “Well there’s...actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think so.

Ainz and Narberal took a mental note of that. The Church appears to be keeping quiet about the residents of Nazarick being in House Isekai, and they don’t appear to be suspicious of the fact that they were the ones who made the monsters appear.

But what was a demonic beast?

Before he could ask, they met up with the rest of the knights.

(Jeralt) “Finally you made it. The bandits are about to make their move.”

(Alois) “Now, let’s...Huh? Who’s this?”

(Catherine) “Momon and...Don’t think I ever caught your name, missy.”

(Nabe) “...I am Nabe.”

(Shamir) “We’ll see if he and his friend are useful or not.”

(Jeralt) “Name’s Jeralt. Captain of the Knights of Seiros.”

(Alois) “Alois, Jeralt’s second in command!”

Upon first glance, they all appeared to be seasoned veterans. Even though their tone was mostly casual and informal, the way they held themselves and their weapons showed that they knew what they were doing.

(Momon) “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Everyone turned to Narberal who didn’t say anything at first.

With a slight nudge, Narberal turned to them.

(Nabe) “Let’s get this over with.”

Ainz shook his head.

(Momon) “Come on, at least say hello.”

(Alois) “Hah, I see your daughter is a bit shy!”

Narberal’s calm face exploded into a panic.

“DAUGHTER?! THERE IS NO ONE THAT COULD BE LORD MOMON’S CHILD, AND EVEN IF HE WEDDED, I COULDN’T-”

“H-HEY! Watch what you’re saying!”

“...Ah...”

“...”

Alois burst out laughing while everyone else sighed.

(Alois) “Ah, so you aren’t related! Apologies, the way you two talked made me think otherwise!”

(Momon) “Pay it no mind, but please do not try to fluster her like that.”

Jeralt hit Alois in the back of the head.

(Alois) “AH!”

(Jeralt) “You haven’t even seen the man’s face, what made you think that they’re family to begin with?”

Well, it’s not like Alois was completely off the mark.

Ever since the rest of his guild members disappeared, Ainz did view all of Nazarick’s beings as his children. Narberal, the Pleiades, and even the Floor Guardians were his sons and daughters.

Highly dysfunctional and psychopathic sons and daughters, but that nevertheless.

(Catherine) “We’re almost right on top of their camp. We should get moving, already.”

(Jeralt) “Agreed. Let’s go.”

As the knights made their way, Naberal turned to Ainz.

Her face was still blushing, and it looked like as if she were ready to cry or punch something. Most likely both.

(Momon) sigh “Don’t worry about it, okay Nabe?”

(Nabe) “Y-Yes, Momon...”

----

[As Swift As Wind - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

UNIT SELECTION:

Begin the battle?

>[Yes] No

Victory Conditions: Rout the enemy

Defeat Conditions: "Momon” or “Nabe” falls in battle.

----

[Psychological Warfare - Overlord]

The group hid behind several trees as they looked at the massive bandit camp. They had kidnapped a large amount of people, as well as their belongings.

(Momon) “Bandits...”

(Alois) “Those dastards think they can do what they want when we’re not around! We’ll show them!”

(Catherine) “I’m not going to stand by and let innocents get herded around like cattle!”

(Shamir) “Get your heads clear. We have to think of a plan, there’s far too many of them for us.”

Ainz and Narberal didn’t really care about the villagers, if they were to tell the truth.

Ainz only joined in because it’d be a good way to find out the strength of those around here.

Even though he wasn’t using any spells and his real power, he would at least see how dangerous bandits and soldiers of this world are.

Monsters like goblins or monsters in general did not seem commonplace in this world at all, which meant there was no good way to gauge how lethal everyone is, or what their levels and experience is. RPG elements seemed absent much to his dismay.

Even if these were bandits, which are normally low level mobs, he would pay dearly if he underestimated them.

That being said, there were no other plans he could think of to accurately assess how dangerous they all were, so there’s just one thing to do now.

Brute force his way in, just like Momon would.

(Momon) “...I have an idea.”

(Jeralt) “What’d that be?”

(Momon) “They’re expecting the Knights of Seiros. They aren’t expecting someone like Nabe and I. While I distract them, you can free the villagers.”

(Alois) “No offense, but I doubt you and your big swords there could cleave through all of them.”

(Momon) “Hah, I accept your challenge!”

Ainz motioned Nabe to follow and started to walk into sight.

(Catherine) “What are you doing?!”

(Momon) “Stick to the plan.”

(Bandit) “HEY, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The bandits attention focused on the two walking up towards the camp, alerting the rest of them and making them draw their weapons.

Ainz pulled out his twin greatswords as Nabe pulled out a broadsword.

(Momon) “Raiding towns as monsters are already attacking them? How low...”

(Bandit) “We’re doin ‘em a favor! Either live under us or die by the monsters and church! Now, I’m asking again real nice, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

(Momon) “My name is Momon. And this is Nabe. You all would do well to remember these names.”

(Bandit) “Psh, what? You gonna “deliver justice” to us evildoers or some shit? And what’s with that getup! You’re trying a bit too hard don’t you think?”

Narberal gripped her sword tightly, wanting to kill all of them for insulting her lord.

Ainz’s head tilted to her to where only she could hear.

(Momon) “Steady your hand a bit longer. I promise you will be able to kill them to your heart’s content.”

Narberal nodded and tried to keep calm.

She then noticed that the group had finally managed to get around the bandits and cut them free.

(Nabe) “Momon-”

(Momon) “Focus on the bandits, not the villagers.”

(Bandit) “You better get out of here if you know what’s good for you...Then again, your armor looks REALLY expensive. And those swords ya got too...!”

The last of the villagers finally ran away with the recruits as their escorts.

Catherine nodded.

(Momon) “Hoho, you’re more than welcome to come and get it!”

(Bandit) “HAH, GET ‘EM BOYS!”

(Momon) “Nabe.”

[Clash - Overlord]

Nabe grinned for a moment before raising her finger to them.

“Lightning.”

A line of electricity shot out, piercing through three bandits’ chests and killing them instantly.

(Bandit) “What the hell?!”

(Bandit 2) “MAGE! TAKE HER DO-”

Three more bandits were cleaved in half as Ainz’s sword went flying through the air and stabbed the ground, shooting debris out from the impact.

One of the bandits who survived looked into the air and realized Ainz had flipped into the air, and tossed his other sword down.

When he landed, Ainz grabbed both of his swords and spun in a massive circle, cutting anyone down who was too close.

(Bandit) “FUCK! WHAT THE-”

An arrow went through his head, shot by Shamir who emerged from the trees.

Catherine and Alois charged in with their weapons cutting everyone in their way down.

Another group of bandits tried to make a run for it before being run over by Jeralt’s horse.

Narberal caught up with Ainz and cut another bandit down swiftly.

(Momon) So, looks like bandits are still weak as ever...

He turned his attention towards how Catherine and Alois were fighting. They were killing the bandits left and right, not even breaking a sweat.

Shamir’s deadly efficiency made sure every shot that was fired hit the bandit right between the eyes.

(Nabe) “MOMON!”

Ainz knew a bandit was coming from behind to slash at him. He would’ve already taken care of it, but he wanted to see just how strong these weapons were.

When the sword made contact, it bounced off and didn’t even leave a scratch.

Truth be told, he was more than a little disappointed.

The bandit slowly backed away as Ainz turned towards him.

(Momon) “Do you want to try again?”

(Bandit) “AAAH!”

Right as he turned around, he was impaled through the stomach from Narberal’s sword, which she violently kicked him off.

(Nabe) “Disgusting insect...”

Ainz then examined Narberal’s state, to see if she was struggling either.

In terms of level, Narberal was around level 60, and just meant to serve as a distraction in the tombs of Nazarick.

However there was just only a few patches of dirt and blood that got on her. She hadn’t even sustained an injury or broke a sweat.

(Momon) “Good grief, I suppose it was my mistake to expect more from bandits.”

(Nabe) “Your compassion for these humans are too great, Momon. They do not deserve it!”

(Momon) “Perhaps. Finish this up, Nabe.”

(Nabe) “Understood.”

Casting another lightning spell from her finger, she shot at a group that was heading towards Catherine and Alois, and fried them.

Their smoking bodies fell to the ground and finally there was silence.

(Catherine) “Alright, think we’re in the clear! That was some fancy moves, Momon!”

(Jeralt) “Gotta admit, you’re skilled.”

(Alois) “I’ve never seen anyone move like that! You’re incredible!”

(Shamir) “Hm. Not bad.”

Narberal smiled for the first time this entire trip.

(Nabe) “Of course he’s incredible.”

(Momon) “Now, now. Let’s not get too cocky. We should go find the villa-”

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Everyone immediately turned and ran towards the source of the sound. When they finally got back on the roads, the villagers encountered a massive demonic beast.

(Jeralt) “Damn it, I thought we got rid of all of them!”

(Alois) “EVERYONE, GET BEHIND US!”

(Momon) Ah, there we go. Knew a quest would have SOME final boss if the mobs were too easy.

Getting into stance, the villagers all got behind the Knights as the beast slowly walked up.

It was some form of a giant wolf, with the fangs almost as large as a man.

Ainz and Narberal tried to buff themselves with passive skills but where shocked when nothing they said was activating it.

(Nabe) “M-My magic...!”

(Momon) “I see, so this world took our buffs away. Meaning-”

Although his face couldn’t smile anymore, he’d have the widest one at this very moment.

[NPC Battle - Overlord]

(Momon) “WE JUST GOT TO FIGHT IT THE OLD FASHIONED WAY!”

Ainz and Narberal charged first, followed by Catherine and Jeralt. Shamir and Alois stayed back to ensure that the civilians would be safe, letting Shamir fire off arrows.

The wolf swiped its paws at Ainz, barely blocking in time with his dual greatswords. The arrows seemed to bounce off the demonic beast when it made contact.

(Shamir) “Damn it!”

It pushed him back, almost making him lose balance with the force behind it.

Retaliating, Ainz swung his sword at the hide of the wolf, but it was reflected off.

Narberal casted another lightning attack and fired it head on.

The demonic beast was damaged, although not by much.

It tried swinging at Narberal next, but Catherine parried its claws in time, using Thunderbrand to cut parts of the claws off, making it roar in pain.

Wasting no time, Narberal quickly put distance between her and the beast.

Jeralt’s horse ran by and he threw a javelin into that arm, making it roar even louder.

The demonic beast spun around, using its tail to knock everyone back.

Ainz was caught in the attack and flew backwards. When he got up, he started laughing.

(Ainz) “I FORGOT WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO FEEL PAIN!”

While it wasn’t nearly as powerful as he was expecting the name “demonic-beast” to be, it still posed a bit of a threat if he was way too careless.

However, it’s been so long since anything had actually managed to hurt him. Even though his specialty wasn’t swordfighting, it got his adrenaline going once more.

It was a feeling a player finding an enemy in a video game that could actually pose as a fun boss battle.

Narberal had a mixed expression on her face. A half scowl and smile. She was happy he was enjoying himself, but at the same time it was her duty to protect him.

Ainz went into the fray once more, trading blows with the surprisingly agile demonic beast.

The two traded and dodged their attacks, seemingly being at equal skill.

Catherine and Jeralt got back up and saw Ainz single-handedly taking it on.

(Catherine) “Jeez, what is he?!”

(Jeralt) “I don’t believe it!”

Finally landing a score that struck home, one of Ainz’s greatswords got stuck into the uninjured arm of the demonic beast, making it howl out.

(Momon) “Catherine!”

Catherine managed to shake off her awe and swiped at the tail of the demonic beast, cutting it cleanly off.

Jeralt used his lance to stab the beast in the leg, making the lance come out the other side and ensuring it can’t move.

Shamir finally got into a good position in the trees and let an arrow loose, the arrow going into its eye.

Alois used his axe to lop off the lower jaw of the demonic beast when it was staggered, finally leaving Narberal an opening.

(Nabe) “Dragon lightning!”

An even brighter line of electricity shot out of her fingers, but it quickly transformed into the shape of a dragon as it charged straight into the demonic beast, making its entire body shake.

Once it stopped, Ainz hopped into the air and dug his swords straight into its neck.

Letting go and quickly grabbing the hilts with opposite hands, he pulled them back out in a way to decapitate the beast, and let its headless body flop onto the ground.

[Non-Player Character - Overlord]

With one final sigh, Ainz swung the blood off his blade and sheathed them on his back.

Narberal quietly sheathed her sword on her belt and stood alongside him.

(Alois) “Now THAT was even more amazing!”

(Catherine) “Show off.”

(Shamir) “Like you’re one to talk.”

(Jeralt) “That’s enough already. Let’s get these villagers home.”

Everyone nodded and made sure all the villagers were safely home. The recruits offered to protect them as they reported back to Garreg Mach until an actual guard detachment came.

When they finally arrived back in Garreg Mach’s town, Catherine turned to the two adventurers.

(Catherine) “You’re not busy tonight, are you?”

(Momon) “I do not believe we are.”

(Catherine) “Then, how would you like to work with us? Bet you all would help out the Knights of Seiros greatly.”

(Shamir) “Hah. That’s high praise coming from her.”

(Momon) “It depends. May I speak to the leader...who is that by the way?”

(Alois) “Wow, you must really be out of the loop! The leader of the Church of Seiros is Archbishop Rhea. I’m sure she isn’t busy at the moment!”

(Momon) “Then let’s go find her. We’ll make our decision from there.”

Catherine and Alois went to speak with Rhea in private. After a few silent moments, a knight opened the door to the Hearing Chamber.

(Knight) “Her lordship wishes to see you now.”

[Gazing At Sirius - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

Ainz nodded, and both he and Narberal went inside and found her standing in the middle.

He had seen her a couple times when every single person had their weapon pointed at them, but it didn’t seem that they knew who they were.

Knowing that she basically ruled all over Fodlan, Ainz did what his followers normally did upon seeing him.

Ainz got on knee, with his arm over it and other arm over his chest.

Narberal had a face as if someone had insulted her creator AND Ainz at the same time, but quickly did the same. It bothered her to no end, but she was going to have to suck it up.

(Rhea) “There is no need for such actions. Please, rise.”

Doing so, she smiled.

(Rhea) “I heard that you decided to help out the Knights of Seiros, even without the promise of pay?”

(Momon) “I may be an adventurer, but I would never turn away from those in need.”

(Rhea) “Such a kind heart you have, mister Momon. You have my respect and admiration. However, I cannot permit you into the Knights of Seiros with just this action alone.”

(Momon) “...I understand, my lady.”

(Rhea) “That being said, with your combat prowess impressing two of my highest in command, Catherine and Alois, I will permit this, if you choose to accept. You will fight alongside the Knights of Seiros asa mercenary. But with enough time, you may enlist in the ranks of the Knights.”

(Momon) “I accept this with the highest honor, my lady.”

(Rhea) “And what about you?”

Narberal was about ready to spit in Rhea’s face, the idea of pledging allegiance to someone else other than Ainz repulsed her to no end. But knowing the reprimand and cataclysmic setback that insult would have, she nodded.

(Nabe) “I accept this with the highest honor...my lady.”

(Rhea) “You have my gratitude. Please, rest within the Monastery. We have quarters waiting for you. Your assignments will begin soon.”

Bowing, they both left towards their quarters.

Their beds were set across from each other, but they had no real need of that. They could use the teleportation rings to go back to House Isekai’s dorms.

But for the time being, they would stay here and learn firsthand how the Knights of Seiros acts.

He was satisfied that they managed to infiltrate a bit more subtly into the Church of Seiros. It was a lot better than attempting to be a student. Done that once, no need to do that again.

Ainz felt like he didn’t need to worry about the Floor Guardian’s relations with the classmates of House Isekai as much due to prior experience with Kazuma and his group.

That being said he was quite curious about the others. Class VII, the Phantom Thieves, the Doom Slayer, all of it was quite perplexing.

Just what kind of mess was he getting into this time?

However, he decided to not jump down that rabbit hole tonight.

There was more pressing matters to attend to.

That being Narberal.

(Momon) “Naberal Gamma.”

Hearing his voice say her name in that angry of a tone sent shivers throughout her entire body.

And it was also the fact he used her real name.

(Narberal) “U-Uh...-”

[First Wife War - Overlord]

BAP!

(Narberal) “L-Lord Ainz?!”

(Ainz) “What was THAT back there with Rhea?”

(Narberal) “I-I’m afraid I don’t understand?”

(Ainz) “Narberal Gamma, you are aware of the face you made when I knelt, correct?”

---

(Ainz) “We are extremely lucky that Rhea did not mention that! Or that anyone else was in the room!”

(Narberal) “I-I apologize with all my being, Lord Ainz!”

She immediately got on her knees and was about to shout even more, but Ainz stopped her.

(Ainz) “Enough. I know you’d be willing to slit your own neck to apologize.”

(Narberal) “...Do you wa-”

(Ainz) “No, I do NOT want you to do that!” sigh

Ainz facepalmed, and then attempted to rub his temple, A. forgetting that he doesn’t have one anymore, and B. he was wearing a helmet.

(Ainz) “Refrain from making that face. Remember, we are BLENDING in.”

(Narberal) “I...I understand.”

(Ainz) “We should be safe in the Monastery. Wash yourself up and relax for a little bit before returning here. I need to make a call to Albedo.”

(Narberal) “Yes, Lord Ainz...”

Ainz could tell Nazarick’s stay in Fodlan was going to be a very long one...

[Crazy Scary Holy Fantasy - Overlord]

Crazy Scary Holy Fantasy Akumu no arisama Do what, do what, do what you want to! Akui no souzou shitai

#fire emblem three houses imagines #fire emblem three houses headcanons #fe3h imagines #Overlord #Overlord AU #church of seiros #knights of seiros #ainz ooal gown #narberal gamma #jeralt reus eisner #Archbishop Rhea #alois rangeld #Catherine Fe #cassandra charon #shamir nevrant

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iwritethat · 5 years ago

Text

Jason Todd: Walking Dead

A/N: I know some of the plot points aren’t factual in the DC universe but I got creative with Jason’s character, hopefully it’s a nice read though. 🎃

>>>>——————————>

Jason’s flatmate was weird.

He was never quick to judge someone and after all of the characters he’d encountered in his life , to reach such a label so fast was saying something.

In the beginning of the arrangement the two got along swimmingly, but soon enough the dynamic became rather ambiguous. (Y/n) was a friend of Roy’s and as such couldn’t be all bad - sure, they had their peculiar introduction but once out of the way it all seemed too good to be true. Roy brought up the proposal of living with one of his old friends when Jason needed a new temporary place to stay, he’d said (Y/n) had been there through his worst and helped him with recovery -?that no one was more loyal and reliable than them.

However, it grew considerably weird with the startled scream his sharer released when seeing him in the dark, now this was perfectly normal as maybe they weren’t used to having someone around quite yet - at least that would’ve been the explanation if they weren’t 2 weeks into their deal. Not only that but (Y/n) scrambled back to their room at record speed and slammed the door behind with no justifiable means.

Strange? Yes.

Next he noticed how they had an obsession with the heating, whenever he was around it always seemed to be on even if the weather of late October miraculously didn’t call for it. It had only begun after they’d cooked breakfast together, maybe they enjoyed the heat of the oven? He’d tried giving them blankets or even his hoodies and yet it wasn’t enough to break their odd habit. Again, weird.

Luckily he wasn’t staying for long...

———

Your new housemate was insanely weird.

Of course you had Roy Harper to thank for that, the only time he pays uninvited visits is when he wants something, your assumptions proven correct with his hinting text message.

[Katniss: U know how much u love me...]

Although his proposition was rather enthralling, his friend needed a place to lay low for a while and with your newly rented 2 bedroom apartment, you were his first choice and thus agreed.

He brought ‘Jason’ over a few days later so you could be introduced - and upon seeing him a vast sea of varying thoughts raced across your mind.

‘He’s hot.’

‘No he’s going to live with you.’

‘Is he one of those friends?’

But then another momentarily fleeting option halted your positivity - is he one of Roy’s older friends, the ones from his rough days of addiction and before you could even register your next actions you’d already subtly voiced such concerns.

“Please don’t bring any dodgy things here, I can’t have the police sniffing around.”

“Like what?” Jason turned to you, brow raised in curiosity.

“Drugs?”

“Oh no, I don’t handle that - I have people to do it for me.” Jason calmly replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world as he took in your kitchen whilst you shot a look that roughly translated to ‘you better be joking’ to a sheepish Roy.

“But I have guns and other weapons, are they okay?” Jason once again faced you with a serious expression, genuinely asking your permission and honestly you could not deny that beautiful man.

“Yeah, I mean sure. You’re not gonna use them right?”

“Not in the apartment. Unless someone breaks in obviously.” The ravenette was confident in his statement, now checking out your living room leaving you slightly baffled.

“Obviously. So um, why do you have them, and why do you have drug runners?” Intrigue burned in your veins, you couldn’t help but strive for answers given the causal circumstances of the contrastingly deadly topics.

“He’s a Crime Lord.” Roy smugly cut in, an immediate expression of concern shot at Jason who you’d hope would deny the allegations.

“Dude, way to sell me. I run a drug ring, you can never stop crime but you can control it so that’s what I do. None of my people sell to kids so that’s a start. So, what’s our rent?” He playfully punched his partner before elaborating and oddly enough it made sense to you.

It should’ve been a warning sign, what normal person makes a first impression by telling you he has people who handle his drugs so don’t ever worry about them being in your apartment. No one.

Although that wasn’t why he was so damn weird. No, far from it. You didn’t know what he was.

One night, you’d awoken to grab some water and tiredly walked out to the kitchen only to meet Jason who possibly just showered after patrol but as it was basically pitch black you couldn’t be certain. You met his gaze - his irises illuminated green - and you instinctively screamed, stopping short as he tilted his head slightly silently asking why you’d done so. Now you thought it was a misunderstanding, a trick of the light maybe, so you stared a few seconds longer and yet they remained dazzlingly bright like fireflies. It was then that you scrambled back to your bedroom slamming the door behind you and sliding down it to the floor with your hand over your mouth, water long forgotten. Safe to say you didn’t sleep that night, demons have vibrant irises don’t they?

It was unknown whether he knew about his glowing eyes, nor could you find an appropriate time to bring it up. You’d built up the courage to do so a few days later over breakfast which you’d opted to cook together.

He hovered over the oven, yourself standing beside him admiring his work until he turned to you with spoon in hand insisting you try some. You did so, holding his wrist steady - his skin beyond freezing - he’d been right next to the oven, how could he be so cold?!

You’d approved of the taste, even if he’d dabbed some on your nose simply for amusement and straight after you switched on the heating to hopefully warm him up a bit.

You continued this procedure whenever you felt he radiated unhealthily low temperatures and occasionally Jason offhandely mentioned that the weather wasn’t cold enough for such measures but you simply shrugged with a smile. Although he would throw a blanket over you, or even offer to lend you one of his hoodies to warm you up and yet you couldn’t understand why he thought you were cold when he was icy to the touch. Ghosts were inhumanly cold...

Plus, although the white streak was quite attractive on him, it was apparently a permanent characteristic but whose hair is naturally white in only one place at such a young age? Frankenstein maybe? But wasn’t he a zombie?

Luckily he wasn’t staying for long...

———

Halloween was upcoming so the TV stations traditionally broadcasted relating titles and it seemed the Sixth Sense was one of them.

Jason hopped through the window, fully clad in his Red Hood armour as the film was finishing, he’d gone to get changed and by the time he’d returned another horror was beginning. He’d joined you on the sofa, resting his legs over you purely for annoyance but you found entertainment in your playful dynamic.

“Hey (Y/n), do you think yelling at a guy holding an AK-47 is a stupid way to die?” It was a random but relevant start to a story he’d intended to tell.

“Oh god you don’t want me to solve cases with you do you because I’m not ready for that man. Like I thought I might be seeing dead people but this is too much.” That particular Sixth Sense related comment surfaced after he’d brought up vigilante related drama - of which he assumed you already knew about due to your relationship with Roy.

“Okay, what is with you? You’ve been acting so weird!” He finally needed answers, the unexplained oddities becomoning too much for both parties involved to the fact Jason was compared to a horror film character.

“Me? I’m not the one with glowing irises!” You sarcastically counter after Jason’s quizzical remark.

“Glow- What?!” He shut his eyes, fingers resting on the bridge of his nose before he looked up to again with a confused glance.

“Your eyes... they glow green in the dark sometimes, didn’t you know that?” Your tone was softer now, the sincerity in it making him want to believe your claims even more.

“No I didn’t... Are you sure? I mean it could’ve been a mistake if -“ Before he could finish, you turned off the lamp beside you and held your hand mirror in front of his face, low and behold they lit up.

“Lazarus green...” His voice was much quieter, tone holding a hint of pained disappointment as he spoke with an almost frustrated expression.

“A-what green?”

“Lazarus, like the Lazarus pits. It doesn’t matter (Y/n), you don’t need to worry about any of that, it will always haunt me by the looks of things.”

“It does matter, please tell me. I’m here for you, that’s what flatmates are for isn’t it no matter how temporary we may be.”

Surprisingly, after a long period of contemplative silence he began his turbulent tale of life, death, vengeance, villains and vigilantism leaving you rather speechless. It was certainly a befitting horror film script.

“...now I’m here, but hopefully one of my safe houses will be clear soon and I’ll be out of your hair.” He finished, shifting his feet that were now entangled with yours as you sat opposite one another on the couch.

“That revival pit, do you think that’s why your eyes glow? It would explain why you’re always cold, and your physical abilities too.” With a finger to your lips you calmly thought aloud, Jason also captivated by the concept.

“I’m cold too? That’s why you insist on keeping the heating on?” Despite his jest, he withdrew himself from you at the thought of affecting you with his apparent side effects of coming back from the dead.

However you shook your head, shifting forward and placing your hand against his, of course his own towered yours in comparison and he was a contrast of bemused and skeptical with your actions. You felt his skin warm up with your touch, the result bringing a smirk to your face.

“I don’t mind it. Your skin might be cold but your heart isn’t, and besides, I can always warm you up Jason.”

“Oh can you now?” He raised a brow at your unintentional suggestive statement, cocky but flirtatious smirk dancing across his lips.

“I - that wasn’t - I was trying - you know what, I’m just glad we’ve solved our differences.” As you attempted to justify yourself, Jason only laughed much to your feigned aggravation.

“True, I’m calling Roy over tomorrow. How could he not notice?” Jason managed, his he argument raising distinct confusion.

“This is Roy we’re talking about.” Was your only reply, though you would acknowledge just how incredibly smart and tactile Roy was any day of the week much like Jason would - but being apart the Outlaws meant subjugation to a few friendly insults.

“Point taken.”

———

Both Roy and Kori had dropped by the next morning to discuss your recent discoveries over breakfast which was a revolutionary one for all of you in some way.

“Glowing eyes? Ah, to be fair you usually wear your mask and helmet so I don’t normally see them and it’s not like I sleep with you so how the hell would I know? As for the cold thing, we’re always outside - if anything I just envied how Lian would always stop crying around you.” Roy calmly sighed, the revelations intriguing to him also and you suspected that he knew more than he was letting on. For a start, keeping such a thing to himself if only to freak you out once he moved in.

“Oh! They say that babies can see the supernatural, like when they just stare into space and people say they can see ghosts. It might be like that.” You laughed, although your comment caused the boys to consider the possibility as it would certainly explain why Lian ceased in her crying around Jason.

“I didn’t say anything as I thought you were trying to match me.” The goddess Kori giggled, her eyes aglow in emerald for demonstration.

“Anyway, is everything set?” Jason nodded to the alien, now concerned with leaving you in peace.

“Sorry Jaybird, gonna need another few weeks before you can leave.” Roy haphazardly shrugged, looking between Jason and yourself as he gazed to you with a sympathetic expression.

“You don’t mind do you? It’s already been 6 weeks, I can -“

“Jason, it’s fine. You’re too weird not to like, but we should stock up on food if you’re staying.” With a wave of your hand you cut him off and smiled, gesturing toward the cupboards as you mentioned them.

The Outlaws were all equally grateful, and soon Roy and Kori headed out meanwhile Jason began writing a shopping list.

“I thought that everything was in order for Jason to come back today?” Kori politely inquired once the pair had left, the previous information contradicting with her current knowledge.

“Shhh, it is but they get on so well, a few more weeks and they both might finally have a place they can call home for once.” Roy carefully explained, a hopeful glint in his eyes mixed with that of sorrow considering what his two friends had gone through.

“I see, as long as our friends are happy then I shall ‘shh’.” The Tamaranean joyfully agreed, all too chipper with the plan.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dc imagine #roy harper #dc gets spoopy

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b4kuch1n · 6 years ago

Text

As you are, a kettle of blue

ya boye had an idea, sat down, and got it out. in 11k words. I need a forced shut down

QCed by @cosbeans - thank you so much for sitting through this shit with me, and for jumping in the hole in the first place when I extended my hand to you. honestly wouldnt know what to do without you there with me.\

Todd snapped on day three.

Dirk should elaborate.

Okay, here's Todd's thing: his surface tolerance for anomalies in his life is low. Like, below-Farah-level low. And he likes to make it known! he very much does. Anyone who lingers in his vicinity for over five minutes will immediately learn, because he will tell them. Mostly by complaining. Todd likes to complain, and it's part of his charm, in Dirk's and no one else's opinion. Farah sure doesn't care for that as much as she just endures it.

That is not to say that Todd is a rigid man in his routines - he is adaptable, crafty, and his mind for puzzles is a beautiful thing. The man just requires a healthy, regular, quite sizeable side of complaining to go with whatever it is that he does at any point. And it’s not that it hasn’t had its use before; Todd was most acquainted with normalcy (or, well, dullness) pre-things, and he still has an eye for the baseline of where things should be even now, and he doesn’t hesitate to call people out on being ridiculous when he feels it justified. And that usually stuns a supervillain like nothing else.

So: Todd has a complaint specially made for every occasion, which means he isn’t quiet too often. His happiness ranges anywhere from a warm, fuzzy buzz with smiles and light elbow jabs to downright mania full of breathless laughters and clinginess, and his annoyance is aimed outward most of the time. Which Dirk is very okay with, by the way; he isn’t good at reading social cues or body language, if that hasn’t made itself clear yet. He likes when people just say what they’re feeling. And, well, Todd sure does that.

The almost constant slight buzz of Todd also serves to signify when something is seriously wrong, more wrong than usual, which is when it goes quiet.

And that was half a day ago.

...Dirk isn’t elaborating much, is he now.

Okay, so, there was this case. Which was three days before this point. A case, very intriguing, very exciting, with all these little details scattered all over the city, leading them into two days of leg work and snooping and one unfortunate swim involving a very vicious goldfish, and finally landing them in a crypt under a hipster coffee shop. A case that started with Dirk being hit on the head with a medium-sized, hardcover book, a fact he had generously tolerated but which came back to bite him in the bum by the end of their second investigative day, in the form of another whap nailing his head right where it had been assaulted before.

Generally Dirk just took these attacks with grace and serenity - things happen to him - but their current client (whose actual identity they had not even come very close to finding out yet) was sliding ever so slightly to his bad side on account of that.

So! The book was locked with a small iron lock, which in hindsight Farah could definitely get through in twenty seconds flat, but Dirk had just immediately fixated on the idea of a key. It was logical, but not very open-minded of him, he will admit; but in his defense, that lead had just been so attractive. Either it was a nudge from the universe, or he had some serious soul searching to do.

Fortunately the latter was not the case, given that the chase for the key lead them to an antique shop, whose owner asked for a favour, which lead them to a CD store, which had seen some shenanigans before their arrival, and they were then sent to an old lady, and then to a park, where the swim happened, and by the end they didn’t get the right key for the book, but that key worked on the barista in the hipster coffee shop. Yes, the barista.

That was awkward for every party involved.

But anyway, they got inside the crypt (the barista was glowing, but not in a miraculous way. It felt more like turning on an agonized head lamp that followed you around), someone snuck in after them, Farah was shut in the inner chamber, Dirk was hit upside the head, and the next time he opened his eyes it was to the roof of a van, Todd unconscious beside him.

Well, not unconscious. Todd was sleeping - he didn’t have that scary stillness to someone unconscious. That, however, wasn’t that comforting a knowledge, given that Todd was still working on his insomnia problem, and only fell asleep in stressful environments when he was absolutely, one hundred percent exhausted. Which was why Dirk let him sleep while he sat down for an amicable, gun-laden talk with their captors.

That talk went something like this: I’m looking for someone from a prophecy, and you also appear in that prophecy, so I’ve kidnapped you so I can have all the pieces in one place. First of all, flattering of the prophet, second, why didn’t you guys come to our office. We have a business built around these kinds of mysteries, and I feel like it’s being disrespected right now. Because we’re gonna kill the man the prophecy sends us to, and the world is blind to our mission.

Cool, very cool. I definitely do not have problems with any of this at all.

Also why is my friend grabbed?

He was there, the captor who had been speaking up until that point waved the gun around for emphasis, while the other one eyed that action with annoyance and wariness.

It wasn’t a very exciting exchange of words.

They covered up the windows in the cabin, so Dirk didn’t have much of an idea of where they were going, and they stripped him and Todd both of their phones, so no chance of calling for help. Todd woke up extra groggy, which signaled something Not Fun, and Dirk spent the first evening in captive assessing Todd’s situation while hanging onto Todd’s arm so he knew he wasn’t alone in his predicaments. Well, some of them.

Todd, of course, started his actual wakefulness with, “Where are we.”

“I would say this is a van,” Dirk offered his input, “but. Well. I have seen this interior in many places, an elevator included.”

Todd made to stand up. “Those assholes hit you in the head?” He grimaced. “That’s not— I just want to know. It’s not a jab. Fuck, my fucking head.”

“It’s okay to sit down,” Dirk’s voice wobbled a bit dangerously there. “And, my head is. Very whole. They did hit it, in the same spot the book hit it, which I didn’t appreciate by the way, but it is in one piece, or you would have noticed I think. And so would I. I would very probably be talking much less than I am right now, and just, do less in general. I would be very still, and oh, that’s very morbid Dirk. Dirk should stop.”

“Dirk should stop,” Todd echoed with a hint of fondness amidst a sea of annoyance. He rose to his feet with a grunt.

“More importantly,” Dirk pressed forward while quickly arranging his limbs into pre-standing up position, “I wasn’t there when what happened to you… happened. I was there physically, but I was. Out. Is what I meant. So I am asking whether you have been…”

“Hit. Yes— yeah. I was hit.” Todd said, and walked over to the bench bolted onto the side wall. It was wobbling a bit with the lurch of the van. He dropped to his knees and snuck his hand underneath it. “Okay, so. If we’re in a van right now then there should be a panel here somewhere that— opens into… a… thing. And we can jam the axle.”

Dirk stared at him, while his head registered none of that other than the vague impression of huh Todd knows these things very cool . His brain was, in fact, rather busy chasing around the fact that Todd didn’t look like he had a concussion like a particularly excitable puppy. So Todd didn’t fall asleep after a concussion. It wasn’t the hit that took him out.

“You had an attack, didn’t you,” Dirk said lamely, and Todd’s shoulders tensed.

“I— yeah.”

Dirk stared at him some more.

“Don’t let me start on it, because I won’t stop. I won’t be able to, and I won’t want to, and in no time I’m gonna be on the other side of that window strangling someone, who’s probably driving this thing, and I will yell a lot, and we will die in an incredibly shitty way.”

“I won’t let you start on it,” Dirk swore, drawing a cross on his heart with his finger. “But it might be wise to sit down for another minute first.”

Todd shrugged. “I slept it off. Got it,” he said, and crouched down even further to look at whatever it was that he got. “It’s screwed shut, so, hm. Dirk?” He turned his head to the side to look at Dirk. “You still have the key on you?”

Dirk held up his hands. “It was still in the barista, per my last memory pre-whap.”

“Pre-wha—” Todd’s face scrunched up slightly. “Nevermind. Never-goddamn-mind. Do I—” He groped around for his wallet, a search that came up empty. “Of all times for some dumbass kidnappers to be thorough. Of course. Alright.”

Dirk was still staring at him, and, well. He wasn’t going to stop, if one asked. He was just acknowledging the action.

Todd turned to him again, and the indignance in his face really shouldn’t be this endearing. “What is the deal of those dudes, anyway?”

“I do have an answer for that, actually,” Dirk informed him, delightfully, and he told Todd about the prophecy. By the end of the explanation Todd has sat down onto the wobbly bench, hands on his face, the arch of his back telling of a soul-deep weariness.

“Why.” He groaned through his hands. “Can’t they have normal motives for once. They have a fucking gun each, sure, but not enough common sense to split between their fucking heads.”

Common sense is a rarity, and yet very much overrated, Dirk thought cheerfully. What he said out loud though, was “They are very whimsical.”

Todd sighed. He tipped his head back until it collided with the window with a hitch in his breath. The window was still stubbornly covered in dark film. “I hate it when people like this kidnap us,” he grumbled. “I mean— it’s nice of them to not tie us up, or drug us, or give a shit what we say or plan between us, but.” His left arm flailed up in a defeated motion. “They sure got us here in this van. While being stupefyingly incompetent. And I hate that.”

“I get what you mean,” Dirk nodded.

Todd looked at him, and then at the back door, and then at the wall separating them from the driver’s seat, and then he sighed and walked up to try the back door. It was locked. Todd didn’t look less annoyed. He returned to the bench to start peeling the film from the window.

“Is this a part of the case?” He asked while scraping at a corner that did come off with his nail.

Dirk pursed his lips. “Ab-solutely no idea.”

“I.” The sound of nail-on-edge-of-film started fading into the background. “Have been thinking about the old woman.”

“Have you now.”

“Have— you know what the hell I mean. And also she’s just weird as hell, like. Not just old-lady weird. Like weird weird. You get what I mean?”

“It’s not nice to judge, Todd.”

“She sent a goldfish after us! And the smell of— God I hope that was fish pellets…”

They talked about the case well into the night, Dirk waving his hands and moving around the space, Todd giving up on the window after clearing three fingers worth of the film. Dirk knew it was about four in the morning when his eyes started to droop and his thoughts lapsed into circles, and when he yawned Todd moved from the bench to sit next to him on the floor. It was pitch black outside, from what they could see through the newly transparent patch of window.

The van lurched to a stop all of a sudden, and a few muffled footsteps later the back door opened to reveal two guns trailing on them. Todd sat up straighter, hands in the air. Dirk, after a few moments, did the same.

“Okay, okay.” Todd said, calm in that exact way someone was obviously freaking out on the inside would be, but Dirk had heard him use this voice enough to recognize it as an act. That, and the fact that Todd was complaining about these individuals’ kidnapping competence mere hours before. “Dirk, he. He told me about the prophecy you guys heard. Whatever it is, we have nothing to do with it, okay? We’re just two dudes, we didn’t know where we were or what the hell that place was, if that’s where you guys do your- your business, we will just. Forget all of it. Not a single word out of our mouth, ever. I promise. Please, please let us go.”

His voice even broke a little at the end. Dirk was… impressed, sure, but there was just a lot to unpack in this situation. He opted to say nothing, open his eyes wide, and nod as frantically as possible. He was nowhere as good at acting as Todd. Todd, with all of his observance and puzzle solving and bluffing, was well on his way to become a real spy.

Their kidnappers, however, were not of the mind to appreciate that. “That’s not happening,” the talkative of the two said, while the other one shrugged. “Dirk Gently’s in the prophecy, and you know our plan now. We just need to be sure you’re not telling on us. Anyway, we forgot to restrain you.”

He trained his gun on Todd as the other lowered his gun to the ground, below the floor of the van, and climbed inside. Todd swallowed heavily and blinked a bit frantically as a zip tie tightened around his wrists. The man grabbed for Dirk next and he went through the same treatment.

They captors were done and gone just as quickly and suddenly as they appeared. After the door had locked on them again and the engine started with an agonizing cough, Todd dropped his shoulders and leaned back against the side with a thunk.

“This is—” He pressed his hands on his face and said with a groan, “the most bullshit. God.”

It had been okay up until that point. Well, as okay as a kidnapping could have gone, as in nobody had shot at them yet, they were still not drugged, Dirk could kind of stand up to stretch his legs, and they were given food at one point. The van didn’t stop, the kidnappers didn’t talk to them, and Dirk was definitely bored.

Todd was… frustrated. He checked the panel under the bench again, looked through the clear patch on the window every hour or so (they didn’t recognize the surrounding, or however much of it they could gleam through the patch), and the rest of the time he practically buzzed with restless annoyance and anxiety. He hadn’t calmed down at all since they got zip tied.

They kept going like that for about another half a day (if Todd’s inner clock was right. Dirk just had to trust him, because Dirk’s sense of time was screwed to hell), and then the van stopped, and the back door opened again to reveal the kidnappers.

“I have a small, irrelevant question,” Dirk said immediately. “What is your name? And your friend’s name, of course. I have been addressing you as ‘the kidnappers’ in my head for too long now, and it’s becoming very distracting.”

Todd stared at him, and he could feel the incredulity in that stare.

The kidnappers looked at each other, and then the talkative one shrugged again. “Adrian,” he said. He talked a lot, but he didn’t emote much. Even his voice was even, like a mirror. “And here’s Jon.”

“Cool! Great! We know each other now, we are getting acquainted,” Todd chimed in, nervousness worked into his voice. “Are you guys letting us go? Or— does, does knowing your names mean we aren’t going? Jesus, god, I. Please. I’m, oh God,” he trailed off, swallowed visibly, and glanced over to Dirk with round, very blue eyes.

“I’m here to talk,” Adrian said, “please calm down.”

Todd stared at the guns, and then at Adrian.

“I don’t shoot if you don’t make me,” Adrian said. He then tried to keep his gun aimed at Todd as he climbed into the van, Jon following suit after he’d sat down on the bench. The gun were very close now. Dirk stared at them, and then at Adrian. And Jon.

There was a very long moment of silence. Again, Dirk had never been proud of his sense of time.

Adrian sat up a bit straighter when Dirk did the exaggerated shrugging motion with an mm-hm in place of a well go ahead then. He was wearing suit, but not good suit. It was a bit large and crumpled and the tie was just noncommittal in a sad way. Jon looked more sporty and organized, if black tank top and black slack could be considered that.

“So,” Adrian said, still as even as ever, “I have taken another look at the prophecy, and—”

“We aren’t really required?” Todd piped up.

“—it seems to point to you,” Adrian again ignored him in favour of gesturing with his gun at Dirk, a motion he really didn’t appreciate, “being a compass of sort.”

Dirk felt Todd tense up a bit at that. It was understandable, given that they had, by that point in time, run into weird people with weird expectations for Dirk seventeen times in total. A worrying majority of those seventeen were very aggressive and… murdery, and exactly only two ever reconsidered their view on his thing. There had definitely been some kidnapping attempts, and a lot of threatening at gun points (well, some threatening at gun points, but in Dirk’s humble opinion, any amount of threatening at gun points is a lot), and, really, the amount of injuries and bleeding resulting from those encounters was just ridiculous. And Todd was there the whole time, got shot at a not-zero amount of time, buzzing with worry and guilt all the way through, complaining extra grumpily, because the seventeen people on the list were just the exact brand of people Todd could not tolerate.

This time around their kidnappers - Adrian and Jon - were shaping up to be another entry on the Stupid Fucking People I Can’t Believe We Have To Deal With list (Todd was usually more precise in his naming, which only serve to highlight how much he really did not like the people on the list); they kidnapped Dirk and Todd, they hit them over the head not in an affectionate manner, they had guns, they followed a prophecy, and just then they were weird with Dirk’s thing. But they also weren’t entirely within the range yet: they hadn’t been incredibly aggressive, and. Well. They were mostly chill, actually. Just two calm, business-as-usual, extremely normal individuals, aiming guns at Dirk and Todd after they hit them over the head.

Dirk reserved his rights to be a bit spiteful about that detail, thank you very much.

Their captors’ precarious position on the cliff above the SFPICBWHTDW list didn’t win them any favour from Todd, however. So far he hadn’t lost any blood, sure, but he didn’t like people that are hard to read. Todd had his neat categories of how to interact with the outside world, as any other adult did, and his sorting system relied a lot on how the other person or people read to him, so he of course didn’t like people who were antagonistic and also hard to read. He couldn’t yet explode the way he would at someone like Suzie Boreton, because these people were just not there in the reaction zone yet, so he had to settle with just being tense and uncomfortable and annoyed and having an all around below average time.

He, of course, carried on with his act no matter his own comfort. Dirk very much wished he wouldn’t, but they were in a van with their wrists zip tied and guns aimed in their general direction, and. Well. Todd’s act was still his actual feelings filtered through a reaction scheme afterall. “Wait, wait wait wait wait— what. What does that mean? A c- a compass?”

Adrian shrugged without even glancing at Todd. “It’s how the prophecy reads. For a man whose gaze points westward is always true to his treasure. West is the prophet’s name, and I got your name from the first letter of every verse.”

Todd definitely did a small, almost unreadable grimace at that. Dirk’s curiosity was piqued, but he told himself firmly do not start with your questioning at gun points and sat still.

“Dude, that sounds like a coincidence,” Todd said with a lot of blinking. Dirk could hear how much Todd didn’t believe in that, but these people didn’t know Todd. “I saw— I saw my name in the first letters of paragraphs in the newspaper all the time! I don’t—” He jumped a bit in genuine surprise at Jon aiming the gun squarely on him, a hint of true animosity actually flickering in the man’s eye. “Hey! I— I just think! I just think that’s a bit of a reach…?”

Adrian shrugged again. He was a video game NPC, and shrugging was his dialogue animation, and it was boring in the most grating way. “Most people are blind to my mission.”

Oh, Todd had so many things to say to that. Dirk could feel how much Todd had to say to that. It was a miraculous feat, one that Dirk knew must have done some kind of damage to Todd’s soul, for Todd to sit still and act like he was dumbfounded and defeated.

“So,” Adrian carried on, “we’ll sit you in the front from now on.”

Hands grabbed Dirk’s arm, and before words could leave his mouth to express how he didn’t like sitting in the front, thank you for the invite but allow him to courteously decline, he could feel the muzzle of one of the gun against his ribs. It was as noncommittal as everything else Adrian did, and oh wow he was starting to resend that with real fervour now.

They of course left Todd in the back by himself, locked in with nothing but empty space and artificial, unnerving, unblinking light for company, and Dirk was seated between Adrian and Jon, and his urge to fidget immediately started to overwhelm him. The view of the road, unobscured by dark film, bright and deserted and cold despite the color of burnt grass and sunlight on the ground, did nothing to calm him down. His attention was divided between all the details his eyes caught, and he retained none of them.

Jon was annoyed with how Dirk shifted between tensing up and squirming. His grip on the gun, still aiming at Dirk from the side, tightened, and Dirk felt both petty triumph and a vague fear over that.

“Where to, Dirk Gently?” Adrian was looking at him. Eyes on the road, Dirk thought, and felt guilty for being a hypocrite.

“Left on the next turn,” he said. “And, um, if I may? On the subject of the prophecy…”

“Shut up,” Jon mumbled. Adrian didn’t seem to hear that, but Dirk jumped slightly at the nudge of the gun against his side anyway.

Adrian tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “I found it in a spam mail. Hidden beneath all the graphics, just plain blocks of words. I was clearing out my late wife’s mail.”

“Very sorry for your lost,” Dirk said politely, and Adrian nodded, as if he was acknowledging and appreciating the proper way a conversation should go when one party mentions a lost loved one. His wife must have passed away for a long time ago, if the smooth evenness of how he brought her up meant something. They sat in silence for a minute, and then Dirk just mentally said screw it and blurted out, “May I hear the prophecy? If you don’t mind, of course,” he added very quickly when he heard Jon huffed.

Adrian used his gun-holding hand (right, he was still holding his gun while driving, of course), to gesture to a crumpled flyer on the dashboard. Dirk looked at him, and then at Jon, who was rolling his eyes, and then he reached over to pick it up.

It was a garishly technicolored flyer for a new convenience store franchise, one that Dirk had never seen or heard of, which might be a bit weird given that Dirk had been back to the States for a few years now, had traveled for cases a lot, and the flyer seemed old but not ancient. In fact, the date on the flyer was three years ago, which meant Dirk could have been there for the grand opening. He did love grand openings. Even though Launda-7 wasn’t the smoothest name on the tongue.

True to Adrian’s words, the verses were printed below the blurry pink-and-ultramarine-blue frame, in small black prints that really wasn’t doing it for Dirk’s eyes right now. He desperately wished for it to be because he was in a van that didn’t feel the most stable, and not because his eyesight was getting worse. All he had to rely on was his perfect eyesight and his incredible friends and his witty charm that didn’t quit.

He gave up reading after four lines. It read like a bad love song. If he could rate the overall experience of reading it on a scale of ten, he would have to take away at least some points.

Adrian finally took the left Dirk told him to, and while watching the road, the clock on the dashboard screen finally caught his eyes. “It’s Thursday,” he mumbled. “Oh God, it’s Thursday.”

He turned around to face the wall separating his seat and the back, persistent despite Jon’s menacing shove of the gun in his side. Adrian spared him a glance.

“Did you get a pill bottle out of any of our pockets?” He asked, turning forward again, knocking into Jon’s gun. Jon was very peeved at that. “Small, orange with white cap, green-and-white pill—”

“Oh, those,” Adrian said. “I don’t remember hanging onto them? Jon probably threw them away along with your phones.”

Jon reacted in some way at that, but Dirk didn’t register it. “Stop the van. I need to see my friend.”

Now Adrian looked at him.

“My friend needs those pills,” Dirk was getting impatient. Or, well, desperate. He felt his own breathing speeding up. “He needs a dose every three days.”

The silence answering him was suffocating.

Dirk pushed over to Jon’s side to grab at the door handle. He could feel the gun on the back of his head, and he could hear the Hey! Both Jon and Adrian let out, but he really couldn’t spare attention for those things right now. He did register the van stopping with a screech and a lurch.

“Mister Adrian, if I may address you as such,” he said, with a calm he didn’t feel, “my friend may very possibly be in the middle of an attack right now, and I would have no way to know, and if you want a single word of direction out of my mouth, you need to let me see him right. This. Moment.”

Adrian and Jon looked at each other, and then Jon groaned and Adrian opened the door on his side. Muffled footsteps again, then the door in front of Dirk’s face opened as well, then he had to sit up so Jon could step out first, and this was taking too much bloody time, and Dirk practically tumbled into the back when the door was unlocked.

Todd was sitting up against the side. He looked at Dirk with the expression that indicated he had just done some snooping around yet again. “Adrian!” was, however, the first word out of his mouth. “Hey, guys! Does this mean—”

“Your friend’s fine,” Adrian interrupted, and he made to grab at Dirk’s arm again. Dirk yanked it out of his reach with a huff.

“No, see, I’m going to stay right here with Todd. You know,” he glared at Adrian, “that if you bring me to the front seat again, I will do what I just did there every few hours. Or every few minutes. Truthfully, I will just immediately kick the door open to run out again the moment you close it behind me. You have my word on the matter.”

Adrian seemed to believe him, because he took a long look at him, then sighed, shrugged, and turned to Jon to say, “Get in the back with them.”

Jon didn’t like that, but screw Jon.

Three people in the back closed the space up to a slightly claustrophobic size, and Jon’s attitude and gun didn’t help the matter. Todd was tense all the time now, which made Dirk hover in a kind of embarrassing manner, but, well. At least he had Todd in his sight again. He always appreciated that, but he appreciated that doubly now because of the many things that had happened and were happening around them.

“So,” Todd said, just the right amount of awkward, and Dirk had the impression only the lack of annoyance in his voice was manufactured, “what were you guys doing at the front?”

“Well, I was being a compass,” Dirk said. Jon didn’t like that they were just talking freely in front of him, but again, screw Jon. “A very dashing, very proper, only slightly unethical one.”

“So you just. Tell them where to go?”

“I work on a sophisticated left-right basis, Todd. I am very accurate within my range.”

Todd’s huff of laughter was true amusement, and Dirk felt his heart (which was beating very violently and relentlessly until now, huh, he hadn’t even noticed) calm down a little bit. He wouldn’t yet bring up the pills. He would probably not bring up the pills. Todd wouldn’t like that he didn’t bring up the pills, but then again, Todd also wouldn’t like being stressed over not having his pills on him, which could trigger a premature attack.

Adrian and Jon’s plus points over other kidnappers they had experienced were rapidly depleting by this point.

Todd also seemed to have something he needed to tell Dirk, which he signaled by huddling a bit closer to Dirk, but Jon’s presence opposite them tied their hands. Metaphorically said, since their hands were still zip tied.

Stars above, Dirk just didn’t like Jon at all.

They stayed like that, Dirk and Todd against the side, Jon on the bench, as day tumbled into night and Dirk felt like his legs would just collapse in on itself like those extendable sticks teachers used to point at the board. Every once in a while Jon’s phone would buzz, then he would ask Dirk for the direction in a tight voice, and Dirk would just choose left or right at random, and he would text that back to Adrian. Todd didn’t say anything, though his act melted into real annoyance in a quite organic way, if Dirk could say so himself. He slumped down to rest his back against the wall again at one point.

Jon’s look on Dirk steeled up more and more the further into the night day they go, and when the van stopped again and Adrian called Jon outside, probably for a rest stop, the disdain with which he threw the sandwiches at Dirk and Todd was palpable. The air seemed ten times lighter after he left.

“I found a— I found Farah’s chip in my jacket,” Todd said hastily the moment the footsteps faded. He held the edge of his windbreaker up to show Dirk something that Dirk didn’t quite catch. “It— ugh, just— your hand!” He pushed the edge into Dirk’s hands, and… Oh. There was a small lump there where the rest of the fabric was smooth. “Those tracker we got from— the Wisecracker case. Farah is probably on the way to get us now.”

Dirk broke into a wide, wide grin. “Brilliant! Great assisting, Todd!”

“That is. Well. Unless she’s still…”

“No way.”

“Yeah,” Todd nodded, amiably, and picked up his sandwich, “you’re right. No way.”

They ate and talked, about the case, about Farah, about the weird creepy old lady with the murderous goldfish (“That tank in her living room really should have tipped us off,” Todd said, but Dirk didn’t find that a fault. Sometimes things just are outside of their imagination, and that is fine). Todd still resolutely didn’t mention their kidnappers, staying true to his promise to not let himself start on the tirade he had been holding back. Dirk felt compelled to honor his promise to not let him start as well.

Too soon the back door opened again - it was light out now - and Jon climbed back in, and Dirk could feel Todd shift into his sullen mode. Which was warranted, because Jon looked spoiling for a fight.

Now that Dirk knew Farah could very possibly be on the way to rescue them at this very moment, the hope and tension competed inside him to make up a giddy mood that perched precariously on the verge of hysteria. Todd’s fuse was burning away in front of his eyes, however, and Dirk grasped onto his own buzzing to clamp it down desperately in order to not add fuel to Todd’s fire. Farah must be close, they had been gone for… three days now. She must be.

When Jon’s phone buzzed, his grip on the thing made Dirk wince. “Left,” he said hastily, just so Jon would stop with that. But, well.

Jon thumped on the separating wall, just a bit violently. Just a bit. “Y’hear that, Addie? He says left!”

Todd and Dirk shared a look.

The phone buzzed again, and whatever text Adrian sent was definitely scathing, because Jon threw the thing at Todd, who had to drop to a side to avoid it. It clattered on the floor between Dirk and Todd, mostly intact, and that blew Jon’s sentiments into double size. He bolted upright only to knock his head on the roof and swear. His gun was lowered, away from Dirk and Todd.

Todd jumped onto the chance with a spite-powered vigor. Dirk yelped and pressed himself into the corner as Todd lunged for Jon’s gun arm, yanking it towards him. They toppled to the floor, gun splayed out in front of them, and the unmistakable flash-and-bang of it going off startled Dirk again. He hazily considered jumping for it as well, but then Jon pushed Todd off just far enough to punch him square across the jaw, and then Todd was on the floor and Jon was sitting up and the gun was on Todd again.

Dirk moved in just as the van halted, the lurch sent Jon into the separating wall, and the bullet grazed Todd’s calf on its way through the floor.

Todd shouted. And again. And again. He curled up on himself, almost kneeing himself in the face while he reached for the wound.

He didn’t stop screaming when Dirk crashed beside him, didn’t recognize Dirk’s arms behind him holding him up until they shook him. “Todd! Todd, look at me!” The pair of blue eyes that met Dirk’s was wide, wide open.

“It’s falling off,” Todd choked on a grunt, “my leg— it’s- it’s cut through—”

“Todd, look at me,” Dirk repeated, and oh, oh no, fear was seeping into his voice as well, this would not do, calm down, calm down— “Don’t look at your leg! Look at me! It’s still there, there’s no hole on it, it’s the attack telling you it’s cut through, listen to me instead.”

Todd swallowed, and his eyes were wet, and Dirk grabbed at the hands he clapped around his calf (his wrists were red and raw, scrubbed by the zip tie) and just held then as tightly as possible. Their forehead knocked together, and Todd’s eyes were screwed shut, and he was hiccuping now. “My—” he gasped, “give me my— my pills—”

Dirk’s heart sank, possibly to where that bloody bullet had gone, deep, deep into the dark earth. “I don’t—” He felt his throat closing up, refusing to deliver the news, stubbornly defying even the facts of the situation, and he opted to push Todd into his chest instead, to just hold him and feel the way he trembled. “I’m sorry, Todd, when they—”

Todd was crying now, and oh God, Dirk really wished he could just tear himself into a million threads and weave himself back into whatever it was that could comfort Todd, wished he could rearrange his atoms into the pills Todd needed. He wished to be Mona instead of himself, just sitting there clinging onto this friend, useless, utterly useless.

This kidnapping officially became the worst one yet.

Jon swore up a storm at it all, and Adrian was standing right outside, and Dirk never wanted to be somewhere less than he wanted to be here right now. “And what’s their deal, these- bunch of freaks !” He only registered that from Jon’s tirade.

Todd was finally winding down, the pain leaving him like droplets of mist, and underneath there was a foreign emptiness. That definitely scared Dirk a bit, so he just pulled Todd in even closer, and waited for Todd to fall asleep as usually the case after unmedicated attacks.

Jon was still seated with them in the back when the van moved again, and he stared at them the whole way.

Todd didn’t fall asleep. He sat slumped in the corner, eyes almost blank, and he was silent. Still as a rock, save for the lurches along with the van. Dirk vaguely picked up the change in background noises - the sounds of other vehicles on the road, and the sounds of people, they were somewhere with actual occupants now - but all fell off his focus save for Todd’s statue-like stillness.

He hadn’t liked many things that happened during the last three days, but this was a new level of dread.

They sat there for Dirk didn’t knew how long, the clear patch of glass on the window brightening then dimming, and finally the van stopped. The back door opened, Jon stood up to usher Dirk out with his gun hand. He then dragged Todd out by his arm, and Dirk almost hit his face on the floor of the van trying to climb in to stop him from doing that.

“He just had an attack!” He said at Adrian’s gun in his face. “Can you people at least act like learned, civilized men?”

Adrian stared at him, and then said to Jon, “Go easy on him.” And then he stared at him some more.

“Are you waiting for me to thank you,” Dirk asked flatly. Adrian had the heart to look slightly ashamed, but he rolled his eyes, just to bring that not-entirely-terribleness to sea level again. Dirk huffed, stood up straight, and turned around to grab at Todd’s shoulder as he dropped down to the ground.

Todd looked at him, and - there was something now where the emptiness was before.

That cleared Dirk’s head just a bit.

They were at a dingy little apartment complex, dimly lit, damp and dank against the red sunset. The stair up to the gate was slippery in a concerning way, and three of the four doors immediately in Dirk’s sight were busted.

They climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. The fourth floor was drastically messier than the ground floor. Paper stuck to almost every surface, practically lining their every steps. The air smelled of mold and rusted steel pipes and wet concrete. Dirk caught the sight of a magazine cover next to his foot, and from there it wasn’t hard to realize that the paper was all magazine pages.

Adrian’s pace quickened, leading them to the innermost apartment. The door wasn’t locked. The inside was covered in the same magazine pages in the hallway, and smelled even worse, a fact that could be explained by the universe’s worst fish tank ever on a counter under the living room’s window. Yes, Dirk had biases against rotting water plants and murky water and a big, uncomfortably human mouth lurking amidst the muddy green hue, but in his defense, he was pretty sure so did fishes and any other living creatures.

Except for Adrian, apparently. He walked up to the tank, checked through it, mumbled ‘okay, this is here’ possibly while cross-referencing in his head the prophecy which Dirk remembered none of, and then just ignored it the same way he ignored Todd. Jon just looked like he didn’t want to be here, and Dirk resent that he shared that sentiment with him.

They waited for something in the living room, Adrian’s gaze moving from the door to Dirk back to the door in regular intervals, while the sun went down outside the window, plunging the apartment into darkness except for the dull glow from the fish tank.

Boredom dulled Dirk’s simmering emotions, and he had started to feel the toll of the last three days on his everything while standing there in a dark, wet, magazine-lined, suspiciously-mouth-like-creature-infested apartment in some city. He looked at Todd, who didn’t look back at him and just continued to be frighteningly silent.

The apartment door opened when Dirk was mulling over breaking his promise to not let Todd start, and they all swung their bodies a bit forward in anticipation. A light shone in from the threshold, then a head popped in, looking from one side of the apartment to the other. It froze when catching Adrian’s eyes.

The gunshot rang clear through wet air before the newcomer could retreat. They fell backward as Adrian walked over, Dirk and Todd following him per Jon’s gun-accentuated nudge.

“Oh my God, oh my God.” The person was half-sobbing on their side on the floor, hand on their shoulder, which - oof, Dirk definitely recalled how a wound like that felt. They were wearing a hoodie, the percentage of their face not obscured by the hood was scrunched up into a Bad Feeling. “I’m so sorry, oh my God— I should’ve, I should have fed the, oh my God—”

Adrian didn’t seem to feel any particular way about the person he just shot in the shoulder (and about that - he was a better shot than Dirk anticipated, an information that raised something akin to molten sugar lava up in his stomach). He stood over them, voice still as even as ever when he asked, “Are you Jorji? Or do you, well, go by Jorji.”

The person clamped their mouth shut, which was a very wise course of action that warranted commendation. Their watery eyes shone under the light of the torch they dropped on the floor.

Adrian sighed. “Bring him inside, Jon.”

Dirk felt compelled to pipe up when the person was in upright position again. “I’m very sorry this is happening to you.” He didn’t really expect a reaction to that, really, the day mustn’t have been kind to them, but their eyes became even rounder when they finally looked at him properly.

“D- Dirk Gently!”

“That is my name,” Dirk said, and then dread fell over him at Adrian’s shift of attention on them. “Oh golly.”

They both duck, Dirk dragging supposedly-Jorji over to a side, as the shot again rang through the hallway. Jorji hit their wounded shoulder against the wall, which knocked the breath out of them, but they regained it fast enough to clamber up the wall when met with Adrian’s unfun end of the gun. Their eyes flashed with terror and hope intertwined as they looked between Adrian and Dirk, and they spilled when Adrian pressed in closer.

“I— I don’t know who you are! I’m not Jorji, I’m not whoever the hell you’re looking for, but Dirk G-Gently is here, so I did things right! I only forgot to feed the fish this morning! Please, it was one time, please!”

They were full on sobbing now, but, well, Dirk just solved the case, so one must forgive him for not feeling the full onset of sympathy at that moment. And also Jorji was the one dropping the book on his head, probably intentionally, so he needed to sort that small amount of spite out first.

Right now he yanked Jorji to a side again to avoid yet another gunshot, his ears full on ringing now, as he called over to Todd. “Todd! Todd! Solved it!”

Todd didn’t react. He was busy with something else. The something else being Adrian’s prophetic flyer.

“Hey, asshole,” Todd said, and for some reason it almost outrang the gunshot itself. “This is fucking Red Hearse.”

Adrian stopped aiming his gun to look at Todd, probably for the first time since he whapped him upside the head in order to be able to drag him into the van with Dirk.

“Excuse me,” he said, blinking in a bewildered manner.

“It’s fucking Red Hearse,” Todd said, his voice trembling with freezing fury now, and the flyer crumpled up even more in his fist. “Third song in their first album, Launda-7. Lead singer Syel West.”

Dirk looked at him, and yet another piece of the case slid in place. “Oh,” he said.

“This is viral marketing,” Todd said, and the temperature in the hallway ought to have dropped at least a few degree Celsius by now. His eyes were bright with something directly opposite of a fever. “You kidnapped, hit, and shot at us, over a fucking viral marketing campaign.”

Adrian seemed surprised, but not that interested, which was becoming more and more irritating by the second now. “Huh.”

Jon, on the other hand, was fuming. “You motherfucker,” he growled. His gun pointed from Todd to Adrian in a wild arc. “Is that fucking it? Is he right? Is he saying the truth, Addie?”

“His truth doesn’t mean much,” Adrian said. “People are blind.”

“People are blind!” Jon barked, at the same time as Todd’s cold, cold “ You’re a piece of shit. ”

Dirk watched, just a tad bit stunned, as Todd walked over until he was only an arm’s length away from Adrian.

“I know your fucking prophet, Addie.” His stance wasn’t steady, but he didn’t look like he was grazed in the leg with a bullet. He looked like he was going to tear the throat out of the first person to touch him right now. “Syel West was my old bandmate. Every morning he opened the door, walked into the living room, said to me ‘we are all dying slowly’, then went and clogged both the sink and the toilet. He was a cesspool of a living thing. The fucking hangers in the closet were out of his reach from how far he’d sunk into the ground. He was a fucking burden on a human being’s soul, and so was his music. And- and from the look of it, no fucking wonder you take his lyrics as a prophecy.”

He inhaled, and Dirk could see him shake, just slightly.

“Anyone with actual human feelings would never entertain the idea of putting themself through listening to a Red Hearse song. But you don’t have actual human feelings, do you, Addie ?” The sneer on Todd’s face was starting to scare Dirk just a little. “Human feelings go out. You just ferment them inside, like fucking surströmming, except not even edible, because now you’re just a walking tower of toxic waste. That’s not a success, no, you’ve— you’ve failed at living from day one, but you’re gonna cope by twisting the truth instead of facing it, right? Your view on the world is unique, your input is unique, yeah, half of Twitter is the same. You aren’t fucking right.”

“I am,” Adrian’s answer was a bit weak, but, well, he was comparing to Todd right now.

“No you’re not !” Dirk and Jorji jumped at the volume. “What you are is a fucking flour sack baby wearing tinfoil hat! You’re delusional, and narcissistic, and beneath us. There is a reason you’re left behind by the word, there’s a rea— there’s a reason why your wife left you, and it does have to do with you looking through her mails by the way! There’s a reason the only person you’ve persuaded into doing this with you thus far is your own brother, and that’s because you act like a cult leader with the charisma of a molding piece of cheese!”

“What—” Jon breathed out a syllable, before Todd whipped around to look at him.

“And you ! No one’s gonna fucking baby you, you overgrown manchild. Normal people don’t feel comfort over being coddled like a toddler and being petulant, as if you— as if you’re in the middle of rebellious teen phase! Normal people don’t swing around a fucking gun while they throw a temper tantrum! You think you’re tough, but you’re spineless, and he got you, he got you good, and— and that’s fucking pathetic because he fucking sucks at getting people! You’re evenly matched. You’re evenly a waste—”

“Shut up!” Jon shouted, and he shot Todd again, under the kneecap this time, and Todd screamed and fell. Dirk could hear himself yell Todd’s name, and suddenly he was between the guns just like Todd, sitting Todd upright again, covering the wound with his hands, saying it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay over and over again, and Todd had his eyes screwed shut but he didn’t stop screaming, and before Dirk realized it the screams had morphed into actual words.

“That’s not how you win a fight, you jerk ass piece of microwave pizza dough! You think you shut your opponents up, but nobody ’s your fucking opponents! No one’s out to ruin you! You made your life into this, the two of you on your own, and you’ll shoot everybody before you know to point your damn guns at each other—”

Todd’s fury was burning hot, and it contrasted with the cold Dirk felt on his back enough to turn his head around and meet Adrian’s eyes, finally wide, finally cold, and Jon was shouting but Todd’s voice still drowned his out, and there were footsteps from the stairs, and Adrian pulled the trigger but Dirk pushed Todd and himself off the bullet’s trajectory, and Jorji was practically crying, and—

—it was hard to tell another gun even went off, but when Dirk had sat up straight again, Adrian and Jon were both already on the floor, Adrian facing up on a pool of his own blood and Jon on his knees, an arm holding his own bleeding shoulder.

“Addie,” he mumbled, half-staring at his brother’s body (they were brothers. Dirk never even guessed that. They were brothers) through shallow huffs of breath.

Farah stood at the last step of the staircase still, breathing heavily, her eyes wide. Her gun had shifted from the corpse to Jorji. “Dirk, Todd,” she said, “oh my God.”

“Farah!” Dirk exclaimed, shaking Todd at the same time. “Oh, thank the stars you’re here… Todd was shot, and he needs his meds, and we all need sleep, but I did solve the case, and now we need to return to the old lady’s place, but first—”

“Let’s stop the bleeding first,” Farah said - she was right in front of them now, kneeling down next to Todd, and she had one hand on Todd’s knees already. Their in-car first aid kit laid open on her other side.

“Excellent plan of action Farah, just what I was about to suggest,” Dirk said, clapping his hands together. Both Farah and Jorji jumped a bit at the sudden noise, but Todd was deathly still again, eyes going from Dirk to Farah back to Dirk without his face ever moving. Dirk chewed on his lower lips.

A pair of scissors was thrusted into Dirk’s hands. “Cut Todd’s zip tie,” Farah said absentmindedly.

Todd’s hands were clasped together, tighter than must be comfortable. Dirk fumbled a bit, but got the blades to line up properly, and with a snip the plastic tie came off.

Todd’s hands didn’t move at all. They stayed clasped together, even as Todd stared at them with a single spare glance to Dirk in the middle. Dirk could tell he was clenching his teeth.

“It’s okay, Todd,” he reminded him, trying to not use the voice that could be easily misheard as talking-to-a-spooked-animal, “It’s alright, we’re not kidnapped anymore.”

Todd fixed his blue eyes on Dirk, and Dirk jumped at the anger still in it.

“If you don’t—” His expression shifted into a grimace, and Dirk was pretty sure he was biting on his own tongue, oh gosh, and for a long moment Dirk feared something coming. The 'nevermind' after, breathless, churned the tension into something else equally heavy. Todd looked down at his hands again, then unclasped them, let them fall onto his lap. He clenched and unclenched them, like he was not sure how they worked anymore. Or maybe he wasn’t sure how the rest of him worked.

“The scissors,” he mumbled, holding up a hand. Dirk brushed aside his nervousness to give him the scissors.

There was the sound of scuffle behind them, and Dirk looked back just in time to see Jorji throw Jon off them. They were dragging Adrian towards the apartment by his legs.

“I need to, I need.” They hiccupped. “I need to feed the fish.”

Jon was fumbling for his gun, but a shot from Farah skirting his hand deterred him. Farah looked over at Dirk, and it took him a few moments to realize she was asking for his input. He swallowed - his mouth was dry. He hadn’t noticed. The discomfort of it couldn’t compete with most things that had happened thus far, both to him and… well.

“Let’s not interfere with that,” he said, cocking his head towards Jorji.

Farah opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, then opened it again to say presumably something else. “Okay. Can you get Todd up?” She stood up after Dirk nodded. “Thanks, Dirk.”

She went to collect Adrian’s and Jon’s guns, while the man looked on in what seemed to be shell shock. Dirk looked at Todd just in time to see Todd’s weary exhale. His expression was still tense.

“Let’s go home, Todd,” Dirk said, gently (ha), to which Todd didn’t reply. He didn’t protest - or react much really - when Dirk draped his arm over the shoulder to pull him into a standing position. The way he gritted his teeth and hissed made Dirk grimace, but he never looked at Dirk.

He didn’t look at Dirk, or Farah when she came back to support his other side, and he didn’t look at them the rest of the way to Farah’s know-someone-who-knows-someone clinic.

“Drive me back to my apartment,” he said the moment they left the clinic.

Farah took a deep breath, while Dirk leaned forward with his hands on his thighs and said, “Actually, I am in a rare post-kidnapping mood that’s just perfect for a sleepover at the office! We still have ice cream in the mini fridge, and we can watch something while doing a review on this case— oh, I never even mentioned the solution to this case! We could start with that—”

The stare Todd was fixing on him effectively shut him up. Todd was still gritting his teeth, and he looked like he was seething now, but there was desperation mixed into the blue of his eyes.

Dirk swallowed.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the way.

When they arrived back at Dirk’s and Todd’s block, Farah followed them up to Todd’s floor. Dirk catched his eyes before the door was slammed on them.

“He had never looked like that before,” Dirk said. His stomach felt both heavy with anxiety and strangely empty. “This kidnapping went very badly, and I am not thrilled about many parts of it, but if there were one thing I’ve had enough of now…” He looked at Farah.

Farah definitely had a headache to worry about, if the way she pinched the bridge of her nose spoke of something. “There’s nothing I can tell you, Dirk. He usually just says what’s bothering him. What happened before I arrived?”

“He,” Dirk worried his lip, “ah, exploded.” He took a breath at Farah’s confused stare. “I think that is the appropriate way to word it. He ‘laid it on’ our kidnappers so viciously they kind of forgot they wanted to murder Jorji. The I-have-to-feed-the-fish person, if you recall.”

“Okay, okay,” Farah palmed her face, “we’re gonna review the case tomorrow. But if he… Okay, I only remember one moment during the two runaway months when he’s… exploded… on someone. But he was done with it then and there. He wasn’t like this,” she gestured towards the closed door, “after.”

Dirk just stood there, fidgeting with his hands. He opened his mouth, but then remembered the way Todd’s words cut off when he told him it’s okay in the hallway. He had an idea of what Todd was going to say. He couldn’t entertain it, not coupled with the way fury lit Todd’s eyes in an all-consuming fire, not when it was already choking him up as a mere suspicion.

Farah sighed. “I don’t want to leave him like this.”

That gave Dirk a direction to go in, and he grasped at it with desperation. “I’ll come in to check on him,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I still have spare keys to his apartment. Once I’ve made it inside, I will keep you updated.”

Farah looked at him, long and hard, and in the end she huffed. “I wish I’m better at this,” she said, softly. Shifting her stance, she took a deep breath, a hand on her hip. “I’ll count on you, Dirk. Send me an update before you go to sleep, okay? If there’s a problem, call.”

Dirk maintain eye contact as he nodded, and only remembered that Todd’s spare keys that he was entrusted with had been confiscated and thrown away along with his phone after she was already driving away.

“I’m climbing the window, Todd,” he knocked on the door and said.

The door opened when he was at the stairs. Todd popped his head out to look for him, and when he saw him walking back to the door again, made an aborted attempt to close it.

When Dirk was there again, hands behind his back, the most genuine smile he could muster on his lips, Todd forced a sigh out of himself. “I’m fine, Dirk,” he said. “Go home.”

“I very much do still want a sleepover,” Dirk said.

Todd brought a hand to his face. “Just— fuck.” That syllable was very heartfelt. “Just tell me what the fuck to say so you’ll go away.” He grimaced at his own words, which was fair, because they were mean. They were vicious, comparable to the words Todd shouted at Adrian and Jon, and they made tears well up in Dirk’s eyes. He blinked them away furiously, pushing the tightness in his lungs and the drop of his stomach away. He was in the middle of something here.

“I’m sorry,” Todd said, a moment later. “But you shouldn’t be here right now.”

“Todd,” Dirk said.

Todd just stared at him, lips pursed and eyes heavy with desperation and dread and anger still boiling, and Dirk couldn’t imagine it felt good to hold onto all that. “Why are you so ready to sit through all of this shit,” Todd mumbled. “What is— what the fuck is wrong with— why.”

“What is the ‘this shit’ you’re talking about, Todd,” Dirk said.

“All of this!” Todd raised his volume again, but he clamped it down immediately when Dirk flinched. “All of— the moment I open my mouth I’m gonna hurt you, Dirk! I didn’t start and it was all swell but then Adrian— and I started and you didn’t, you didn’t, you let me start, and now it’s not stopping ! Even when I look at Farah, even when you’re— right here ! Where I can fucking hurt you and destroy our friendship and never be able to stop myself, because it has boiled over. The fucking filth inside my head has boiled over. It’s— it’s just. Out.”

Dirk stood there, bewildered, as Todd’s breathing slowed even if it didn’t become less heavy. “I need to sit down,” he mumbled, and slid down the door onto the ground.

Dirk also sat down, because he was worried, and also he was still holding back tears. “Todd,” he said.

“Go home,” Todd mumbled.

“Whatever it is inside your head, it’s not filth.”

There was pain, both physically and soul-deep, mixed into the concoction of emotions in Todd’s eyes when he looked at Dirk again. “It’s not good. When you lie, you—” He choked on an inhale. “You learn to see people’s bad sides first. That’s what you work with. And then that’s what you remember of them. And then that’s what threatens to come out of your mouth, at all times. You have t— you have to try to not be an asshole.”

He palmed his face, and his next breath sounded like a sob.

“And now the lid is off, and without it I— you saw. And you—”

“—am still here,” Dirk finished that sentence for him.

Todd didn’t look up at him, but his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

Dirk scooted in closer. “Here’s my reasoning,” he said, softly, and put a hand on Todd’s arm. “You were kidnapped, you were hit over the head, you went through two attacks, one without aid and one when you’ve missed a dose of medication, you were holed up in a van for three days, you were shot in the leg, and you went through all of that while confronting the people whose company you would never willingly be in. That pushed you over the line, and you ‘boiled over’ as you said. And yet,” he resolutely wiped his eyes with the back of his free hand and finished the speech, “you bit your tongue instead of saying something that’d hurt me. You’d rather close yourself up than risk being mean to me and Farah. This feeling, the anger, seems to take winding down, maybe an outlet, to leave, and I can see it doesn’t feel good to hold onto, but you turn it inward to protect us from it.”

Dirk squeezed Todd’s arm. Todd was looking at him now.

“Before the agency and Farah and you,” Dirk said, and well, he was crying. Slightly. He could still talk. “Nobody has ever been this considerate to me.”

“Your standards are too low,” Todd said.

“Maybe so, but! My point is, to say something is an action, Todd. The content of your thoughts is your business unless you make it mine as well, but your actions affect me visibly. And the result is good, positive, because you are my best friend! I’m your friend, and I want to be, and I appreciate the things you do, and I want to help and check on you, and,” Dirk swallowed. “I’m not leaving.”

Todd looked at him for a long time. He held the gaze, despite his eyes stinging a bit with tears. Todd’s eyes were wet too, but they had grown clearer.

“You’re incorrigible,” Todd said, small and a bit broken up, but fond. “And also sound like a daytime TV psychiatrist.”

Dirk grinned. “I went to a lot of therapy sessions,” he said. “Or, well, I listened in on a lot of therapy sessions. Was in the proximity of. Walked by. May I use your landline? I promised to text Farah, but we did both lose our phone.”

“She’s gonna drive over the moment the phone rings, and she’ll see us sitting here, and she’ll be so disappointed.”

“Then,” Dirk said, his hand still on Todd’s arm, warm, and he felt his heart lighten when the same warm reflected in Todd’s blue, blue eyes, “it’ll be the perfect opportunity for a sleepover.”

“Truth be told,” Dirk told Todd when he settled down next to him on the mattress, Farah already dozing off on the other side, the sound on the laptop they were watching Netflix on lowered to mostly whispers, “I was very impressed by some of the insults you used on Adrian and Jon. They were mean… but inspired.”

Todd snickered. “Thank yourself for it.”

“I, hum, don’t insult people? And definitely not in that fashion...” Dirk stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s not word for word, Jesus. It’s the method. You’re- you’re rubbing off on me.”

Dirk mulled the idea over, and decided that he liked it. “Sounds fantastic,” he said.

Todd’s huff was muffled through the blanket, but the light jab of elbow on his arm was affectionate. It made Dirk smile absently.

“Of course.”

#Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency #dghda #todd brotzman #dirk gently #can be read as brotzly but I wrote this as gen #fanfiction #ask to tag #this started because I sat down one day and was like 'oh todd would be /incredible/ when hes past his limit'#I yelled at cosme so hard about that shit. we still have the log to show for it #anyway this is Todd Snapped the fic #but of course I couldnt just write that without the emotional consequences afterwards #or the buildup #so. 11k of words #now you know what that was #this took three days two write which is two too much for my usual self but #okay dirk and todd got me good. I would do many a things for them. gods #gods #in other news I think Im gonna bake again tomorrow #because my brother just finished the thing with his class and theres a lot of leftover ingredients #right now tho for personal reasons I will dissolve #thank you for reading!! have a good day!!!

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slytherinshawn-blog · 6 years ago

Text

hopeless - chapter 4

summary : you and shawn grew up together, best friends who made blanket forts and shared secrets in the dark. when he found fame, he lost you. five years later, and he’s stumbled his way back into your life, disrupting the peace you had eventually found.

word count : 2.5k

masterlist

prologue - chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4

note: this is v loosely going to based around elements in to all the boys i’ve loved before. it will eventually probably turn into a sort of fake dating thing. i’m having a real party writing for this fic. i hope u all are enjoying. let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. also let me know what u think about this chapter and the series so far :)) header credit to shawnmendesicons

When sun breaks the next morning, filling your room with its bright luminosity, there’s a shift in the usual pattern for you. You feel something different, something undeniably eager and you’re practically skipping through your morning routine. You spend a little bit of extra time on making yourself look presentable, despite the hour. You add a gloss to your lips, a bit of concealer under your eyes to cover up the bags from your recent pattern of staying up late. There isn’t much you can do with your hair, you decide, opting just to pull it up into a messy ponytail.

There isn’t a dress code for your job, but you always remain casual. Today you’ve decided on a pair of black jeans that you roll at the ankle, thin black belt visible from where your cropped sweater rises just a tad above. It’s still chilly even when the sun has reached its peak in the sky this season. You pull on a simple pair of black Chelsea boots before transferring boiling water into your travel mug with an earl grey tea situated inside.

You skip breakfast, knowing that on Saturdays, Jack brings warm croissants from the bakery down the road and you make haste with hurrying out of your apartment building, not forgetting your money for lunch with Shawn later.

Lunch with Shawn later. Just the thought is hard to believe, and you’re reminded of the night before, almost forgetting that it wasn’t only a dream. You couldn’t wait to catch up with him later in the day, hear about his travels, his life, his music, his mom. You knew that your stories would be far less interesting than what he would have to say. That fact doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. Simple for you just worked.

Upon arriving to the store, you unlock the door and flip around the ‘Open’ sign. Not like it would matter too much. The only people that still visited the store were loyal customers from when Jack was your age. Older men and women would visit the store primarily, especially on Saturday mornings. A few college kids who absolutely fit the stereotype of being the ones that would visit this “super cute vintage book store,” as they would describe it to you. All in all, it was an easy job. You would help people find the books they had in mind, giving advice on your personal favorites.

The morning drags on with ease, the bell atop the door only ringing a few times, which would have you looking up from your book and croissant to smile at the customer arriving before diving right back down into it. The hours continue to roll by, coming closer and closer to noon, your off time. As the clock reads 11:30 now, you close your book for the day and stuff it into your bag that you carried. You go about tidying up the front of the store, wiping down the tables along the front window and placing borrowed books back on their appropriate shelves.

The bell rings while you’re in the back, organizing the room that Jack usually occupies himself in when he comes to visit and check in on the store. “Hello!” you call out from where you are, always greeting everyone who comes in. When you don’t hear a response, you walk back up to the front and behind the counter, your eyes widening when you see who it is.

“Elliot,” you breathe, taken aback. He has never come visited the store on a Saturday. He always stuck to his schedule of Wednesday and Thursdays, so this came to you as a total surprise.

He smiles at you; perfect teeth, and it makes you want to melt into the floor. “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m great! I’m good,” you say, trying to will your heart to chill out in your chest. “I’m surprised to see you here. This isn’t your usual study day, yeah?”

He laughs with you, nodding his head as he prances right up to the counter and leans his forearms along it. You’ve never been this close, yet alone talked to him for more than a few sentences. His eyes are like magnets, drawing you in. You’d guess that you’re wearing huge heart eyes. “You caught me,” he charms. “Usually Sadie and I have brunch on Saturdays, but she’s got some event to attend with her sorority sisters.” He shrugs. “So, I figure I’d stop by my favorite book store. Get a bit of reading done before I head home.”

You pull your lip between your teeth, watching his lips move while he speaks and it’s not even like you can help yourself. You’ve had your eyes on this boy for 2 years now. He’s always been the forbidden fruit, hardly ever sparing you a moment’s glance. You’re so captivated in his words and his eyes that you don’t even hear the bell above the door chime, yet again. Too busy sending heart eyes at Elliot to notice Shawn enter the little store and stop when he sees you wrapped up in conversation.

Elliot makes you giggle, sparing a shy glance down to your shoes before you look back up at him, dripping in charm. Shawn clears his throat from where he’s stood behind your crush. That makes the both of you snap back to reality and turn your attention to Shawn, who’s taken his sunglasses off and let them hang in his shirt.

“No way,” Elliot says, cutting the silence. “Is that you, Mendes?” you had forgotten that Elliot knew Shawn too, from before he found his fame and it’s like life really has a way of humiliating you, watching your crush and your ex-best friend reunite before your eyes.

“Elliot DiMarco,” Shawn repeats. “Nice to see you, man.”

“So, you decided to join the common folk again, huh? What brings you here?”

Shawn spares a glance at you, still standing mouth agape behind the counter, blush high on your cheeks. “Well, I had a lunch date with (Y/N). Unless I was interrupting something…”

“No!” You cut Shawn off, shaking your head. “No, we were just talking. I’m good to go.” You grab your bag from off the floor and sling it over your shoulder before making your way into the back to hurriedly shut the lights off. You shoot Jack a quick text while you’re back there, steadying your breathing to let him know that you were on your way out.

When you return up front, Elliot has taken his spot by the window as usual and he’s already got a book pulled out in front of him. He gives you a wave goodbye and a charming smile which makes you blush and quickly turn your attention back to Shawn, who’s looking at you with one eyebrow raised.

“C’mon,” you tell him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the front door with one last chime of the bell.

The two of you make heed down the sidewalk, heading to the familiar diner that so many of your late nights were spent in years ago. Shawn has slid his black sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose, a hoodie pulled on over his black jeans and signature black boots. He’s got the hood covering his soft curls, and you recognize that this is probably his way of disguising himself from the public. It’s only once you’ve gotten far enough from the bookstore that you drop his wrist, letting out a deep breath.

Shawn looks at you, your short legs moving in long strides to keep up with his easy gait. “So… you and Elliot,” he muses. He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “I never would have thought.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Oh, whatever, Shawn. There’s nothing going on. He’s got a girlfriend. He just – he comes into the store every once in a while, to read. We’re friends. Barely.”

“Okay, but you definitely have a thing for him.” He emphasizes on the word, and nudges into your shoulder playfully. The chill of the Canadian wind nips at your nose and you duck your head down.

“I mean… it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t even notice me. You should see his girlfriend.”

Shawn’s hand brushes up against yours, fingers knocking together to get your attention. You look up at him, have to crane your neck at his height. In middle school, you were the same height. You teased him for being short. “It looked like he was noticing you back there.” Shawn shrugs. “I don’t need to see his girlfriend to know that you’re selling yourself short. As usual.”

Your eyes stay on his for a moment longer before you break the connection; you’re at the diner, anyway. Once the host seats the two of you at a table, Shawn removes his glasses and puts them in the pocket of his hoodie, finally letting the hood down so you can see his bouncy brown curls. He’s handsome, you can’t deny it. Many years of seeing him only over your phone or television screen was nothing compared to the way that he truly glows in person. His skin is flawless, curls soft, teeth perfect from his time with braces. His jaw has grown strong and sharp, shoulders broad and arms toned and big. He’s grown fully into a man, so different from the boy you used to cuddle into when thunder would shake your house.

“This wouldn’t be a proper visit unless we shared the chocolate milkshake,” Shawn grins, holding the menu in his hands as if he hadn’t visited the place enough to have it memorized.

You nod in agreement, the memory of you and your friend with two straws in the same milkshake making its way into your head. “I agree,” you say. “One chocolate milkshake and two burgers with fries?”

Shawn smiles, soft, lets his eyes study your face with a glint of something you can’t pinpoint. “Wouldn’t have anything else.”

You drop your gaze to the table and wait for the waitress to take your orders. Once she’s removed the menu from your way, you continue to study your fingers as if it suddenly held the most interesting thing in the world. A wave of nerves had rushed over you out of nowhere. The realization of being here with Shawn, in this place that held so much of your youth, had your stomach turning with nerves.

“Hey,” Shawn says, quiet, his large hand reaching out to touch yours where it rests on the table. It gets your attention, like you know he wants, and you look up, eyes meeting eyes. “I know this feels… weird. Like, unreal, or something. I know I have a lot to explain.”

Lip between teeth again, you nod, urging him to go on.

“I really don’t have an excuse… there’s nothing I can say that would really make anything I did make any sense or seem any better. I don’t want you to think that I’m excusing my actions, because I’m not. You know, you were my best friend. And we were just, like – perfect. Just the way that we worked and fit together was so unique, and I think a lot of that was taken for granted. Now, you know, that we’re older, it’s easy to look back and see that the relationship that we had was so great, and a lot of people don’t have that. You were easily my favorite person in the world, just – my best friend.”

His words are genuine, honest, and he hasn’t broken eye contact since he stated speaking. You’re having a hard time doing the sane, but you force yourself to stay locked on his gaze, everything he is saying bringing up a burn in the back of your throat.

“When we were sophomores, that’s when everything really started to change. And it wasn’t you… it was nothing you had done so I don’t want you to ever think that. I was just so stupid. I got really lost in my music and my dream and I never imagined in a million years that I would actually become something of it. I started getting all of this attention from everyone. You know, suddenly people knew who I was, and girls were noticing me, and it was – it was easy to get caught up in. And I was young, and that’s no excuse, but I had all of these people who wanted me, that I let you get pulled away.

“I have regretted it every day since I left. I’ve never met anyone who would ever come close to what you meant to me. I knew I wouldn’t have a friend like you for the rest of my life. And honestly, I didn’t even want one. But I figured, after all this time, you know, you probably hated me enough that you forgot. And I didn’t imagine you’d want to speak to me.”

You swallow back how stunned you are, voice getting caught in the back of your throat. You clear it, brushing your knuckles against the back of Shawn’s hand, only inches from yours on the table. “I never hated you, and I never forgot about you. I was mad, of course, and yeah, I did blame myself. But I could never bring myself to hate you. I was happy for you and your new life and I’m proud of how far you’ve come. You deserve all of it.”

Shawn smiles at you, and he has to pull his arms away when the waitress comes back with your food and milkshake. You politely thank her, and Shawn grabs the two straws and pops them in the drink.

“I want to start over,” Shawn says, pushing the milkshake between the two of you. “Or, pick up where we left off. Whatever. But I want my best friend back. And I want to hear everything.”

Just as you’re about to reach for the straw as some symbolic meaning of your forward friendship, you are interrupted by a small, trembly voice. “Hi! Are you… are you Shawn Mendes?”

You look up to see a girl who’s stood next to your table, her eyes bright and beaming at Shawn who is looking at her with a polite smile on his face. “Yeah, yes I am.”

“Can I have a picture?” she asks him, giggly and nervous looking. You look between the two, Shawn and who was clearly a fan. He shoots a look at you, almost apologetic. You shake your head at him to reassure that you aren’t bothered.

“Sure, honey,” he says, and stands up out of the booth to duck down beside her while she snaps a picture, thanking him before scurrying off to where she came.

“Sorry,” he mumbles when he takes his seat back, and you shake your head, letting out a quiet and amused laugh.

“No, don’t be sorry. You’re a real Rockstar now, Shawn. Adoring fans who follow you everywhere. I can hardly even handle your celebrity presence!”

He throws a fry at you, rolling his eyes playfully. And, yeah, this feels back to normal again.

taglist : @woeme @qxeen-of-hearts @muffins-cookiesm

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes fic rec #sm3 #mendes army #hopeless

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bonbonswirl-blog · 6 years ago

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Old passer

ALL THE CHARACTERS BELONG TO @brueklynn I OWN NOTHING. You already know this is not canon, i want to point out that there is a character here that belongs to toony BUT doesnt have any kind of design or personality so i created them myself for this story XD means the anything here is not canon at all, that it thank u ^^

Wallaby was standing outside in front of a random store under shade. There he is, standing alone, tapping the ground under him with one foot, his hands in his pants pockets while looking bored. At these fine balmy days, almost every eye hides behind sunglasses and hair flows freely in the breeze, erratic steps echo. The janitor Penetrating gaze probed Perusing the sea of faces, like if he is looking for someone he was supposed to meet up with ages ago and they never came, now he is still here waiting for their arrival at any second. If only time can pass faster, or if he had something to entertain himself away from this killing boredom instead of leaving him to dwell with it. Letting his eyes roam over the streets, he just moved his head right and left checking if one of those faces is the person he meant to meet. However, he didnt know that few moments later something going to etch insidr his memory is going to take place right now. It was the moment when he noticed one of the passers being a lady, a normal lady, just like all the other ladies in the streets. but for some unknown reason, he felt something being off, her presence pulling his attention away from any other person.

Long fluid wisps of chocolate hair that always seemed to gleam when it captured the light just right. Large liquid blue eyes held such a serenity, trimmed by long pretty lashes, lovely eyes, yet somehow seem gentle. Florid cheeks and flawlessly syrup sweet sculpted lips was lilac soft. She was all about simplicity, holding a small bag in her hands, wearing a short cute bright flowing dress, walking like an elegant lady.

And still for today, wallaby have no idea what was it in his guts that forced him to move his legs as fast as he can to approach her before she get any further away and dissappear from sight.

"E-Excuse me miss!" She turned around, facing wallaby who was holding his flatcap in his hands, waiting for his request. He looked at her with confused eyes, of course he would be, he doesnt know why is he even talking to her from tha first place, what does his guts want from a random person he never saw? "Yes sir?" She smiled, lipstick glowing. She had a soothing voice, atleast thats what wallaby thought, she seemed nice, that kind of woman whom hold a tiny warmth within eyes. Those eyes...just by looking at this pair he can see one of his gazes in them. That evoked something from some part of his brain, He had no memory of her, atleast thats what he thinks, cause he doesnt recall any. Perhaps its not a memory per se, but echoes that call to his intuition. He started to think he may recognize her before, maybe he did neet her at one point in his life? maybe that was the reason why his legs automatically moved to catch her? Yes, it was, he can tell. Her simple smile was unique, reminded him of a certain smile too. he could have swore he saw it a lot, but where? when? And who? He was anxious for recognition he never knew. "I..." the janitor had no absolute idea of what to say when stopping a stranger for no reason, but he tried to come with a good excuse so he doesnt seem like a fool. How about..the reason he approached her from the first place? Why he ran to her before he lost her view. "Miss did we...did we meet before somewhere?" "We did? Oh Im sorry but, I dont think i do remember..." she apologized, wallaby didnt feel sad or dissapointed because she was just a stranger to him, but his inside did. She doesnt know him too, he can now let her go away right? Nope, that answer didnt calm his guts down, his tongue isnt satisfied with it. He looked at her again. Noticing smooth Bangs obscuring the woman forhead, framing her face. what is so intresting is that.

Her bangs are just like wallaby ones.

That was a nice detail, but all wallaby wanted is to sooth those unknown feelings and go back quickly to waiting for a certain person. "Are you sure? cuz I do feel that we may had knew each other at some point. I mean come on! Our bangs are really so similiar missy!"

So how can wallaby know a lady who is 20 years older than him? Dont ask him, ask his gut. it was still impossible for him not to be held prisoner by the intuitons. but there was undeniable familiarity to her features, possibly thats what held him so captivated. she giggled slightly "I just noticed that too...even our hair color is the same shade! Staring at your eye...I feel myself looking at a mirror! So..whats your name? Maybe I can remember you then!" "Oh! My name is-"

They both stopped when they heard objects hitting the floor with a loud thud.

They both turned their heads for the source of the voice, to their right concerned. It was a man with short dark brown hair, ruddy skin, a flatcap, standing there. Frozen, arms still static in the same position he left his belongings to fall down.

Wallaby was puzzled. His father constantly welcomed any kind of guest he met with kind smiles and words. He never gave that kind of a shocked reaction to anyone before, especially for just meeting a random lady. His child himself didnt see him that shocked before about anything. But he tried to push it off for now and get back to the subject. "Oh dad Here you are! This is m-" He was cut too when he saw the woman next to him no longer smiling, soft glowy lipstick in a frown, not being too happy to see his father. Drown in her unwanted sad moments, lowered Dull orbs of ocean blocked under the dark shadow created of her fallen bangs, her expressions faded, the molten chocolate that hung precisely on her back turning dry, cheery dress no longer dancing with the breeze. The brown haired boy doesnt understand a thing... unsettling feelings began filling him. Whats wrong? Why are they both That greetly dissapointed? What making his head spin are the unexplained transitions. Who is she? What does she have to do with his dad? He wished he could Leap straight for the answer.

Mason already felt the knife before he saw it. Looking at the girl wallaby just met in a forlorn stare. He didnt blink and in the depths of his gaze, he couldnt believe his eyes anymore. He looked into her eyes one more second to make sure this isnt the wrong person or some hallucinations haunting him.

It was his partner

Or you could say his previous partner.

His shoulders hunched together like if he was trying to disappear inside himself. Even his dark eyes seemed to be attempting to retreat inside his head.

"...Lucy...."

"...You...."

She couldnt even remember his name. Expected. Why would she do anyway? Mason can still recognize her voice, even though its been...very long years since he last heard it, or seen her face...She wasnt that girl he loved, who cared about his being, or encouraged him to do his best in achieving dreams. No, she is just an old passer from his old life. The old lucy was long gone. Lucy snutched up an eye to finally take a glance at her once spouse. Looking at each other, Both of them had changed, yet still identifiable, funny how much tricky the time is. they realised that the eyes whose were once filled with so much purpose and love was now replaced with bitterness, and maybe hate. The only thing that showed any resemblance to the man was the shell the bitter soul inhabited. His old self was gone too. Mason never left anyone, they walked away. In his life he had been the sunshine, giving warmth, light and love without reserve, Yet there came a time when the pain within overwhelmed and only tears came. Her abandonment was like a betrayal to him, a burning to his soul, a dusty hot road on which his mind and body can wither. He had lost the one he loved the most in the world, the one who had kept him stable for periods in his life time. The near loss of everyone he had loved wasnt emotionally stabling to him. Only his son wallaby stayed, refusing to leave his dear father side. It was never an exciting blank page, a fresh start, or a choice to mason, but more akin of being naked in a blizzard. Lucy guessed she should do something about this stifled silence, to break it with a move, It is her own job to find an easful air around herself, so she made it towards him with an outstretch hand and that kind of desponded face usually reserved for your dissatisfaction. But mason startled like a deer in the woods, almost toppling as he took a large step backwards, entire face glowed up with pain and anguish. He let his face fall with gravity again. stepping aside while he slunk past not looking left or right, Leaving wallaby and his own regrets behind, alone. Wallaby wasnt ok at this point, blankly staring at the path his dad toke until distance obscured, hurt was welling in his son eyes, his dad looked broken. Lucy...lucy...Where did he hear that name before? Its repeated in his head many times, mentioned there and audiable by only one voice, his father voice. He unglued his eyes from the path and returned a stare for the woman in hopes for a small claricifation. She sighted him out from the corner of her eye, unable to look at him anymore. "So you..." "Miss..I-" "dont tell me that your name is wallaby...." He got it.

He finally got it.

That woman is his mother.

His Absent mother.

His heart jolts in pain. His jaw went slack with dumbfounded, eyes resigned surprise, brain stutters for a moment and his eyes take in more light than he expected, every part of him goes on pause while his thoughts catch up. Memories started to flood in every blood vessel in his brain, all of them are his five years old self, a beautifull young woman tugging along his side, she is nobody else but his mother lucy. All those stale pictures and voices clinging to his mind at a once. He can now recall them all. It was like he was living those moments, or visualizing them. Set of warm hands he would let hold him own clapping together before holding him off the ground and spinning his small body in the air, voice cradle his mind in familiar sounds, her soothing him from losing his favorite balloon or humming her favorite song at the kitchen. He still remember their last time playing together before the next day, he saw her with suitcases in hand, vanishing through the door, never coming back. For the first while he felt lost with not a single place feeling like home. However happiness found its way back thanks to mason treasured love. Time after time her presence in his life was erased. At this moment here, where he is meeting his mother for the first time after growing up. He felt that a part of his brain Where there should be certain memories is blank space, like a soft beige wall bereft of photographs. After a wash of cold he stepped out from the shadows and highlights of sundown. blazing sun descended, burning the sky in a powerful mix of amber and blood red. The dying sunlight seeped out behind sillhouet. Lucy spun around with her heals, back already facing wallaby in neglect, ready to go far away and leave him, again, in the same day he just met her. The rhythm of her heels clicking against the hard streets floor didnt stop wallaby from uttering his words. "Why did you leave dad?..." She paused her footsteps. "Why did you leave me?.." she stayed silent. How could she answer this? "You werent worth it, wallaby." He was raked with disdain, His eyes glistened with the pain of her betrayal, leaving wallaby with no alternative but to seek a new suspect of more harm, the truth of her innocence is discovered.

"You two were just old passers in my old life. Im glad l didnt waste it in you." Nobody around was heard, just continual taps of heels heading to a straight way. Stepping on her son heart each time they connect to the ground. Her kid steadily tracking her road until she completly escaped over the horizon. His eyes allowed her reluctantly to go past that orange lane, he was unsure about how should he feel about this new memory.

As the daylight dwindled the tension in Skye grew. Mason was in a slight crowded area in a specific street, Standing there on his own, doing nothing but giving a thousand mile stare into space, somehow the noised around doesnt affect any bit of his focusing. Wallaby had found him after taking some time for searching around, reaching him to be by his side. He never even said a single "hey..." to him. Instead, they both kept walking home in a queit sunset. Mason made no attempt to speak the whole way. Apparently, his young boy had expected this, as he kept shut too, mostly cause he didnt know what to say in this situation. Heavy sighs gracing each few minuts passes from the father mouth, did his eyes shine with the terror of his memories. Empty, yet They told a story of sadness, The dark lines around them didnt help much. He didnt mean to fall in love with lucy, but he did anyway, From the very first time he talked to her, he knew there was something so true in this person that reassure him he could be the true him. If only he had enough cohesion power to describe what happened that day to his loved son wallaby, but right now This was mason burden, his kid shouldnt be sharing it with him. His steps were dragged and movements forced. While the companion was down in the dumps, an inkling of wistfulness glimmer in soft eyes dropped to the corners. He fixed his eye toward the sky, wallaby always admired sunsets. But tonight, he felt blue, curbed. Not wanting to think about anything and just get back home to rest from this long day.

At nightfall the heat of the day would evaporate along with the last sunrays. At that night wallaby closed his eyes, head pressed on a soft pillow. hoping for sleep to take him away from this thing called reality. The darkness overtook him slowly, and he fell asleep. But For the first time, Little tears falling from his face.

#brueklynn #mason wallstone #wallaby wallstone #lucy wallstone

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yourarmynoona · 7 years ago

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Red Light District || Chapter 2

(Moodboard by Me)

Description: [Sex Worker!AU] [DomTae!AU] You were young, naive, and oh-so desperate to keep your head afloat in the big city. Working in the Red Light District was easy. Until he came along.

Rating: M

Pairings: Taehyung x Reader; Jungkook x Reader; Jimin x Jungkook x Reader; Taehyung x Jimin x Reader

Themes: S-M-U-T. Drugs, Alcohol, Sex, and NAUGHTY THINGS!!!

7.5k+ Words

Notes: Chapter inspired by “Papi Pacify” by FKA Twigs (Seriously. Watch the Video) and “High for This” by the Weeknd. This chapter is dedicated to @shadowstark for my first ever fic review and @bangtanprincesss as a thank you for my custom imagine!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

A bouncer escorted you to the famous V, who was seated like he was before, his arms outstretched across the wood portion of the couch and one leg elegantly crossed at the ankle across his knee. He was oblivious to your approach, his eyes scanning the room as his head bobbed lightly in sync with the bass reverberating throughout the club. He was sitting in one of the squared-off VIP areas that had a large central couch with two-smaller couches and a table decorated with a variety of glasses and expensive bottles of liquor.

He was between what appeared to be two of his friends and to your surprise, Jin, one of your notorious coworkers who despite being born into money, decided to become a host and entertainer. As you approached, the bouncer, a man of about 6-foot-something and 200-something pounds in black stepped back, his hands clasped at his front. V delicately turned as he saw you approach, a smirk playing on his lips as he brought a thumb to brush against them and lolled his head to one side, taking in your figure.

“V I presume? I’m Foxx. A pleasure to make your acquaintance” you stated somewhat formally as you swung yourself down into the space next to him. You had kept your dance heels on, making it somewhat difficult to maneuver to the couch, leaving you to plop down slightly. You could feel the eyes of the other men near him pay you a small glance before resuming their conversations.

“Oh the pleasure is all mine. You can call me Taehyung, by the way. No need for stage names here.”

Taehyung was scanning over your cross-legged form to his side and you were sure his words applied to not just himself. You licked your lips lightly before smiling back and replying, “I suppose, but where’s the fun in that? It ruins the mystery.” He laughed, a boxy smile revealed his wonderfully perfect teeth that were so white you would most likely go blind in broad daylight. Your initial impression of him was that he was cocky but you were starting to see that perhaps he was simply overly playful. You decided to test the waters and see how ready he was to take you back to one of the rooms and have his way with you. Though you were keeping up a professional appearance, you could feel the wetness between your thighs spreading and the dull ache to be filled growing.

Slowly you leaned into him, your thighs touching his and one of your hands coming to rest itself on the upper portion of his arm as you cocked your head playfully. “So, Taehyung, I heard you wanted to meet me but I’m wondering if it was to talk or something else.” You worked your hand slowly up and down his bicep, the smooth satin of his shirt cool to your heated touch. Taehyung bit his lip and smirked.

“I mean we could, but why waste time talking when we could get to the point. You’re fucking gorgeous and I would love to spend tonight with you. In private” he emphasized his last sentence, running his long, elegant fingers down the side of your face as your eyes met his. There was something inexplicably alluring about his gaze. It captivated you and made the temperature of your body skyrocket all the while making you feel as if you had lost control of your own will.

“So what do you say, Foxx? Do you think I could get a night with you?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Your magenta lips turned up into a slight smirk. Carefully you got up from your spot next to him and reached for his hand, motioning with your eyes to follow you. He licked his lips lustfully before taking your outstretched hand and following your form towards the long hallways guarded by one of the many bouncers. Taehyung briefly turned around and winked at his buddies in the VIP who began to hoot and holler, clapping their hands and laughing at their friend. You rolled your eyes. Boys will always be boys.

After a brief walk to the hall guarded by one of the bouncers simply nicknamed “Dung-geun”, you ushered Taehyung to small lobby area that was adorned with rich wooded floors, dark crimson walls, and mahogany furniture with plush pillows all illuminated by a central chandelier and small wall sconces that made the room feel like a palace. There were other men and women there, sitting on a large round loveseat or touching one another as they talked. It was quieter but the reverberation of the music emanating from the club could still be both heard and felt to some degree. Turning to Taehyung suddenly you let him bump you gently before he wrapped his arms around you, gently swaying your body against his.

“So what can I expect tonight?”

“Hmm…well it depends, what do you want handsome?” you purred, your gaze lowering from his eyes to his soft lips.

Taehyung laughed softly before pulling you closer, his head tilted replying lowly “Everything”.

A shock ran from your chest to deep between your legs and you were suddenly aware of the way his fingertips were pressing deep into your hips and how close he was to your face. His presence was commanding and it made you want to give yourself over in every way. You wanted him so badly but there were sadly formalities to be had.

Pushing yourself off Taehyungs chest, you grabbed his hand and approached a large mahogany desk where an older woman sat smoking a long pipe, her round glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose, one hand stroking at her peppered gray locks.

“Mrs. Kim, I need a room. Can I get…” you trailed off, glancing over to Taehyung, “any of those rooms?”

Mrs. Kim straightened herself upright, eyeing you up and down before adjusting her glasses to examine Taehyung.

“Luckily Red isn’t taken. I’ll need you to fill this waver out young man and please leave your ID and credit card.”

Taehyung thanked Mrs. Kim and furiously filled out the paperwork as you went around the desk to write your name in the log and what room you were in. Though it was the modern era, the owner and Mrs. Kim preferred to do things by hand so as to keep client information confidential and secure. In addition, the paperwork for Euphoria also helped entertainers keep track of their clients likes, dislikes, and how much they regularly paid for. Once Taehyung finished the multiple signatures, he passed his entire wallet off to Mrs. Kim who sat eyeing him with little regard behind the mahogany desk.

“I assume you read the rules young man. You are responsible for all services rendered by Foxx and liable for any…damages that may be had. You are to abide by the rules of this establishment and all acts performed behind closed doors are to be consensual. Understood?”

Taehyung nodded.

Mrs. Kim cleared her throat and looked through the paperwork Taehyung had signed diligently, giving you a cautious glance before looking back down and opening a file to put his information in.

“You have paid for the remainder of the night and have selected full-services. Payment will be made upon leaving for the evening. A down-payment of $580 will be paid upfront. Any questions?”

Taehyung again nodded before coming up behind you to wrap his arms around you and nip at your ear before whispering “You’re all mine tonight Kitten.”

Guiding Taehyung down the hall was a heated mess of moans and needy kisses. He had thrown you into the wall and kissed you furiously, one hand to support himself and the other bringing one of your legs to wrap around him as you tangled your fingers in his hair. His kisses were hot and desperate, his tongue sliding against yours as he ground his hips into your barely clothed core. Every rut of his hardened member between your thighs was sending shocks of pleasure coursing through your veins and you had almost come from that alone.

It had take a fight to get Taehyung into the Red Room but once you had closed the door behind you, something in him changed. His eyes turned dark and his tongue creeped out to lick his lips as his hands glided up the curves along your body before he grasped a hand to your throat and another to the wall behind you. You couldn’t hide how turned on he was making you and you let forth a small moan as your eyes fluttered shut. His touch was making you dizzy and intoxicated and you felt yourself losing control of your sanity.

“Tonight you’re all mine kitten. You will do as I say and obey me. Understood?”

You nodded shyly, your mind a muddled mess as his thumb came to your lips and forced it’s way inside your mouth. He worked his thumb slowly in and out of your mouth, coaxing you to suck at it. And suck you did. You lapped at his thumb, sucking and swirling your tongue around it, making sure he knew you would be worth every penny he was spending on your attentions. You sucked and sucked, imagining what it would be like to have his cock sliding against your tongue and through tightened lips.

Withdrawing his thumb, he hissed through his teeth before commanding you to the center of the room and to kneel at the large illuminated red “X” in the center of the room facing him.

The room was spacious and illuminated in an eerie yet erotic glow of red. There was a St. Andrew’s Cross directly at the center and perpendicular to a large bed with a deep-red duvet and covered in numerous cream and red pillows. The walls were red and black, stripped with a black lacquered finish across the bed wall that was hidden behind a large rectangular mirror. The amber lit chandeliers beside each side of the bed were dimly lit so as to allow the deep red of the recess lighting to penetrate the entirety of the room and cast a red glow across any bodies that would come to writhe in passions beneath it.

You knelt down, the cross behind you and saw to your left a wall with an assortment of paddles, whips, rope, and chains. You had known about the Red Room from Jimin but had never actually taken anyone into it. You started to imagine what dark fantasies Taehyung was going to use you for, a pool of wetness gathering between your thighs.

“Did I say you could look?” Taehyung barked, the echo of his leather dress shoes clicking across the black marbled floor.

You cast your eyes suddenly downwards. A red, hot desire was pooling deep within your body.

“No sir.”

Your voice was small and though a part of you was intimidated by the very man walking towards you, it excited you all the same.

“Speak up, Kitten. Did I say you could look?”

You raised your voice slightly.

“No sir.”

You could hear Taehyung’s chuckle and knew he was smirking at you.

That red, hot desire was now bubbling over and spilling fast into your limbs.

As he stopped in front of you, you felt his cool fingertips grasp at your chin and gently force your gaze upwards to him, your neck painfully craning. As you stared at him, you could feel that burn in your chest spreading further across your body. His thumb was caressing your chin delicately as he knelt down to your level, one arm resting across a knee. Taehyung turned your head gently from side to side, taking in your features before running his free hand down your throat, his hot breath billowing gently across the your cheek.

“Kitten, you really are beautiful” his voice tapered off to a hush.

He suddenly got up and began to unbutton his satin plum-colored shirt, his gaze never leaving yours. Desire was surging through your body and there was an ethereal vibration that was nearly palpable in the air, making your limbs heavy and your body weak with lust. Removing his shirt and throwing it haphazardly onto the floor, you finally saw what a fine body was hidden by the loose vestment. His shoulders were rounded and lean and led into a finely muscled chest and core, the striations of his musculature even more prominent as he let his hands wander to the seam of his dress slacks.

Unbuckling and rapidly removing the belt from his pants, he strode over, standing directly above you before wrapping the belt around your neck and giving it a slight tug, the loose chain bracelets on his wrist lightly clinking his watch.

“How is that kitten?”

“It feels good, Sir.”

“I want you to tell me what you like, what you don’t like, and if you want me to stop. Safe word is ‘lace’ Can you do that, Kitten?”

You nodded and he yanked the belt slightly around your throat, pulling you slightly forwards, your throat slightly constricting.

“Use your words.” He commanded.

“Yes, I will.” You purred delicately.

“Good.”

He commanded you upwards with a taut pull of the belt around your neck. Standing tall in your outrageously taller heels, Taehyung let loose his grip on the belt and walked around you. You didn’t dare move as you felt his hands caress down your shoulders and to the zipper on the back of your dress. Agonizingly slow he began to unzip your dress, the sound of the metal unfurling was making your heart flutter.

Your breath hitched.

As your dress fell to the floor almost soundlessly save for the delicate clink of the zipper against the tile, you felt his body distance from yours as you stood in nothing but your black thong from your stage routine and your sky-high patent platform heels. You felt his chest press firmly against your back and his arms snake around to your front, one hand going towards your lips and the other between your legs.

“Oh fuck…you’re already so wet. Do I turn you on that much?” he hummed, his fingertips rubbing languid circles over your still clothed clit. You could only hum in response as he worked his fingers over your clit and slid his other fingers into your mouth against your tongue. He ground his erection hard into your ass as he teased you, your hands reaching behind to steady yourself while he slid his fingers deep into the recesses of your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed as you suppressed the urge to choke. All you could feel was his fingers working you towards orgasm and his fingers fucking your mouth and sliding against your tongue.

“Fuck you look so beautiful like this, I can’t wait to see those lips around my cock” he groaned, his fingers sliding deeper between your legs, his head leaning over your left shoulder watching your expressions contort as he hit every pleasure center.

After a few moments, he worked the fabric of your panties aside and ran his long, elegant fingers across your clit and down the lips of your pussy, toying with your wet folds. You let loose a moan as he sank a digit deep inside your moist heat, your hips bucking at the wonderful searing sensation. Taehyung was teasing you, toying with you, making you squirm. You could feel the reverberation of his moans against you. He was so incredibly turned on and was enjoying every bit of teasing you. Adding another finger, Taehyung sank his digits in and out, the lewd sounds of your wetness dripping from your core adding to the eroticism of the moment, making you grind yourself further onto his fingers. You could feel your legs becoming weak as he started to hit that spot deep inside of you, his fingers fucking in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. Your moans were becoming louder and you could feel your orgasm building. You were losing control and your hips were moving against his fingers, trying to gain more of that heated friction he was giving you. Your high was rapidly approaching, building, threatening to send you hurtling into oblivion. Suddenly, he slowed and removed his fingers, leaving you to whine in protest.

Removing his fingers from your mouth and releasing you from his hold, he guided you masterfully to the floor with one hand on the makeshift leash of his belt and the other bracing your torso. Your lipstick was smeared down your chin and across your cheek and your eyes were glassy in a haze of lust and the throes of a lost orgasm. You were a mess of passion and lust and at that very moment were willing to do whatever he wanted to come on his deliciously long fingers.

“Only good girls get to come, Kitten. You need to earn it.” Taehyung said, unbuttoning his pants and dropping them to the floor all the while still holding his belt taut against your throat.

You felt him tug harshly at your neck, bringing your face to the erection still in his boxers. You looked up towards him and saw him smirk.

“What are you waiting for Kitten? I want to see those pretty lips around my cock.”

Without breaking eye contact, you brought your hands to his black boxers and slid them down his lean thighs, his cock slapping his torso with a dull thud. You ran your hands up his thighs, to his chest, and back down to his manhood. He was long, and thick with an ever so slight upward bend. You grasped him in your hands, working up and down the shaft as you began to deliver small kitten licks to the head and the underside. Taehyung was watching you with an intense gaze, his eyes filled with lust as he watched your tongue explore every inch of him. You were teasing him and you learned very quickly that he wanted more than teasing as he yanked your makeshift collar, forcing your lips onto him.

“I don’t enjoy being teased, Kitten. Suck.”

On his command, you took the head of his cock between your lips and sucked. Taehyung let loose a deep moan as he felt you take him deeper inside of your mouth, his hips languidly rutting his rock-hard member into your mouth. “Yes…f-fuck that’s it. Suck my dick like you mean it” he groaned, his head lolling backwards, his grip still firm on the belt around your neck.

You worked him expertly with your mouth and hands and you could feel the pulsing of his cock as his hips began to force himself deeper into your mouth. His hips moved faster, faster and his moans and pants were growing louder and more desperate. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Your mouth feels so good Kitten.” His hands wandered into your hair, the belt still wrapped around his fist as he forcefully began to fuck your mouth harder and harder. You suppressed the urge to gag as he worked his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You were taking quick, desperate breaths between his thrusts, moans slipping out between each. You couldn’t help but feel incredibly aroused at how amazing his cock felt between your lips, how he had you under his control, and the tightness around your throat. You could feel he was about to come but he stopped, pulling himself from your lips, leaving a trail of saliva connecting your tongue and his cock.

“You look so wonderful with your mouth thoroughly fucked, but I think you’d look so much better being fucked by my cock Kitten.” Taehyung groaned, biting his lip as he trailed his fingers across your messy lips.

Taehyung guided you by the belt around your neck towards the extravagant bed of the Red Room, covered in plush red and black pillows. You were so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

“Bend over Kitten. I want to see that pretty pussy of yours.” He commanded, loosening his grip on the belt.

You knelt onto the bed, getting onto all fours and arching your back to give Taehyung a view of your sex. He ran his long, elegant fingers up and down your glistening slit and hissed between his teeth as you whimpered under his touch. He teased you, his fingers making slow strips up and down your core before making delicate circles on your clit. You could feel your pussy throbbing for his touch, to be filled by his cock and it was becoming painful. He then slipped a single digit in and rotated it inside your moist heat, making you fall forwards onto the bed as he curled the digit against your g-spot. Taehyung was working you once again towards orgasm and you were again losing control, desperately trying to get him to touch you in all the right spots to make you topple over the edge. With a single finger, he had made you a moaning mess, your hips thrusting back onto his finger as he curled it again and again against that one spot that made you see white. He slipped in a second finger and you wanted to come so bad for him that you were pushing your hips further onto his fingers. That is, until you felt a sharp sting across your bottom.

“I didn’t tell you, you could come yet. I told you, only good girls’ get to come.” Taehyung said darkly, stilling his fingers inside you.

You couldn’t help but cry out at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

“P-please Sir! Let me come!” you cried out, tears threatening to spill forth.

Taehyung struck your again, his open palm making contact with the same spot as before, leaving a harsh sting in its place. “Good girls don’t talk back, Kitten. Do I have to punish you more?”

“N-no Sir!” you whimpered, your voice holding back a choked back sob.

You were desperate to come. So, so desperate. And it was destroying your sanity down to the last thread.

Taehyung scoffed. “That’s a good girl,” he rubbed your reddening bottom “Now how about I show you what a good girl gets. Would you like that, Kitten?”

“Yes, S-sir!”

And with that he removed his fingers and thrusted cock deep inside of your velvet heat. You cried out at his harsh thrust as he bottomed out inside of you and the wonderfully sinful pain of his cock stretching your walls to the brink. “Fuck Kitten, you feel so tight…” he trailed off, his thrusts savoring your body as his hands grasped tightly at the flesh of your hips. With each thrust, you could feel him stroking your g-spot. You could again feel your orgasm building with every rut of his hips to you. He thrusted in quickly and withdrew his cock oh so slowly, your juices coating every inch of him and dripping down your thighs.

“S-sir! Oh my God! Your cock is so good!” you cried out, your face buried in the fabric of the duvet, your fists clutched tightly into the thick crimson fabric.

The room was filled with the lewd and salacious sounds of skin slapping on skin, your wetness being pushed out of you as his cock filled your pussy to the brim, and the pants and moans of two people in the throes of passion. “More, please, more! Fuck me more!” you were almost screaming. His thrusts were becoming faster. Faster and faster his hips met your ass, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips, his eyes screwed shut tightly in ecstasy. With every stroke of his cock into your pussy, you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly.

He was taking gasps, needy breaths as he fucked into you harder and harder, your body being forced further up the bed. “I-I can’t hold on anymore! I’m going to come!” you practically screamed as Taehyung’s hips continued to snap to yours.

“Come for me, Kitten! Fucking come on my cock like the slut you are!”

And you came undone, your body filled with a searing sensation coming from deep within your core and spreading throughout every inch of your body. You lost all control as you cried out, your eyes shut tight, your limbs numb and your vision blinded by pleasure, a surge of wet arousal leaking out from your pussy and onto the sheets below. As your pussy throbbed around him, you could feel Taehyung climb onto the bed and with a hand, force you to stay downwards as his thrusts became more uneven and ragged breaths grew louder. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his thrusts continuing to send white-hot sparks of pleasure throughout your body.

“Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck! I’m gonna fill you with my cum Kitten! FUCK!” he yelled out amidst your screams of pleasure, his hips snapping to yours as he filled your wet heat with his cum. His head was thrown back in passion as his hips made small, slow thrusts, his cock being milked by the pulsation of your orgasm.

After a few moments, he withdrew his cock from your pussy, letting his cum drip down your folds and mingle with your juices. You lied there in the sheets face down and he collapsed facing the ceiling beside you. The only sound in the room to be heard was the sound of uneven breaths and panting. You couldn’t even so much as lift your dizzy head but it was then that you knew.

He was like a drug to you.

His command, his control, his dominance.

And you wanted more.

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caelumdevium-blog · 6 years ago

Text

FINDING TIME ALONE WITH IGNIS as of late has been difficult. even when they’ve split off into two rooms at one of the motels, gladio and prompto tend to hang around for so long that by the time they’ve turned in, ignis and noctis don’t remain awake for much longer. and, it hasn’t helped that they’ve been operating under gladio’s suspicious gaze as of late, either.

as much of a bummer it was to have gladio up and leave for some sort of personal mission, noctis has found it to be a breath of fresh air. after all, if they’re to be caught in the act by anyone, he’d much rather it be prompto. at least, now, he’s already gotten the sense that prompto already has an inkling, and supports it, either way.

one of these days, gladio’s going to have more than just an inkling, and noctis will have much to do in the way of talking the man down. he’s already prepared for the things gladio will inevitably lecture the both of them about --- they both know.

noctis knows, deep down, that this will all just make uniting with luna in altissia all the more difficult. that what he has with ignis likely will have to end. that he’s being selfish by subjecting both ignis and himself to this, when the both of them know that he’s meant to be wed.

he can practically hear gladio in the back of his mind now ------ and what about lady lunafreya, huh ?

he doesn’t want to think that reuniting with luna means parting ways with ignis, and gladio, and prompto: the ones who have been at his side from the start. but the fact of the matter is that noctis has no idea how this is all going to end.

they ought to be ready for anything. but noctis just wants to enjoy the time he has. ignis kisses him, and he just wants to pretend that time has stopped just for this moment, just for them. so he returns the kiss in kind, just as heated, loses himself completely to it, free hand grabbing a fistful of ignis’s button - down while his other slowly massages the man’s growing erection.

don’t they both deserve to have this ?

whatever shall we do, with all this time to ourselves --------- my beloved ?

and the pet name sends a shiver down his spine, and he can’t resist the urge to just kiss him again, heart filled with more love than he’s ever felt in his life, ready to burst. he kisses him, all tender and heated and desperate. and, slowly, carefully, he’s pulling ignis down on top of him.

“ ------------ i have a few ideas, ” he finally answers, breathlessly, captivated by the sight of his beloved’s frame hovered over him, a backdrop of stars and the night sky above his handsome face, the glow of the fire and the runes of their campground the only other things to illuminate him. his hands slowly make their way down his back, settle at the curve of his ass, only to squeeze, firm, when he finally pulls him down for yet another kiss ------ this time, with marginally less desperation.

this time, it’s soft, and sweet, and it’s the only way noctis knows how to convey unadulterated adoration without having to stumble clumsily over words. and even when there begins to be more heat behind each kiss, it’s not as desperate as before.

he pulls away again, and there’s a knowing look in his eyes.

“ and none of them involve clothes. ” @guardscrown / u kno what it is

#((((((((((((((((':#guardscrown

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marvinjuana · 7 years ago

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Lovers Fight and Sing Fortissimo

Summary: The Marvin and Whizzer of now are less destructive, less catastrophic, and more in love.

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1742

Author’s Note: lovers fight and sing fortissimo aka how many other fics can u count that are titled as such

my first fic for falsettos.

for broadway.

for musicals, in general.

Ao3

Marvin closes the door softly behind him, placing his briefcase on the ground. The stress of the day melts away as he takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes. Both are left messily by the door, where he will most definitely be forced to pick them up the following morning by his lover. That’s a future him’s problem, though.

He leans his forehead on the door tiredly, as he locks it, letting his eyes slip close for a moment. It has been a long day, and he really just wants to change out of his stuffy suit into some comfy clothes, curl up under the covers with Whizzer, and sleep for ten years. He doesn’t know if he will be able to get to sleep easily, though what with the events that had occurred that morning.

As a couple prone to arguments, Marvin and Whizzer have had their fair share of disagreements. They are both too stubborn and prideful, and even though they had both been working on these flaws, sometimes they relapse to their old ways. That morning had been one of those disagreements that ended in shards of his favorite mug ricocheting against the floor and shouting that had woken him up better than the shot of espresso the mug held. Thinking back on it, he doesn’t quite remember why they had been arguing, and it reminds him painfully of three years prior when he and Whizzer would bicker for the sake of bickering; how the feuds brought their relationship to an end.

Marvin didn’t want to go back there. No, he couldn’t go back there. The two years without Whizzer had been hell, and now that he’s had the love of his life back in his life for a year, he feels like he can breathe again. His mind is already racing with thoughts about Whizzer being upset with him (he hadn’t tried to contact him once all day), and he groans.

Whether or not Whizzer is irate doesn’t stop him from needing sleep, so with a heavier heart, he straightens out and looks back into the apartment. It’s dark for the most part, which is not out of the norm, considering the time. A feeling of relief washes over him, though, when he notices a dim light coming from the end of the hallway, and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Slowly, he makes his way towards the light, tripping over his own shoes in the process.

This is also not unusual (both the tripping over his shoes and the light).

Every time Marvin has to work late, he texts Whizzer as such and tells him not to wait up, and every time, he comes home to Whizzer lounging on the couch in front of their television. Sometimes, he is asleep, light blue comforter thrown over his legs, and sometimes, he is awake, scrolling through his phone or flipping through the channels. No matter what, he’s there. The fact that Whizzer waited for him lifts a weight he hadn’t even notice settle on his shoulders. This means that his lover isn’t as enraged as he had thought. Perhaps the space had done them good. Perhaps they both have cooled down enough. Perhaps time had made them more mature. Despite knowing this, Marvin is still hesitant when he steps into the living room.

Whizzer doesn’t stir, as Marvin makes his way over to the illuminated lump curled up on the suede couch nor when he carefully sits down at the edge of the sofa. The light from the television casts a blue glow over Whizzer’s face, and Marvin is captivated by the features of his lover.

Beautiful, he can’t help but think to himself. Whizzer is beautiful.

Asleep, Whizzer is peaceful, gentle, and almost angelic. The lines on his forehead smoothen out and the smirk that constantly plays on his lips, teasing and annoying, is replaced by an innocent downturn.

Marvin feels a rush of affection burbling in his chest when Whizzer scrunches his nose, the minute wrinkles on the bridge appearing and disappearing just as quickly as they had appeared. I am so lucky.

“Are you done watching me, you creep?” Whizzer’s groggy voice cuts through the calm, his eyes still closed.

“How’d you even know?” Marvin responds.

“I have eyes on the back of my head.” Whizzer cracks a smile, stretching his long legs and opening his arms so that Marvin will cuddle him.

Marvin moves in response, laying down beside him and wrapping his arms around Whizzer’s waist. He shudders when he feels Whizzer’s hot breath against his throat. “The back of your head wasn’t even facing me.”

Whizzer only hums in response, his breathing slowing as he dozes against Marvin. With the both of them lying side by side on the couch, it’s a tight fit, but Marvin doesn’t dare move. Having Whizzer in his arms like this is, as his son would say, the miracle of Judaism.

He’s just drifting off to sleep as well, when he feels Whizzer jerk up, almost knocking him off the couch in the process. In the faint gleam, he can see the taller man frowning and blinking away the sleepiness from his eyes rapidly.

“We need to talk,” Whizzer says, voice still hoarse.

“It’s one in the morning, babe,” Marvin points out, running a hand through his hair. Although he knows that they do have to talk, he also knows that it is much too late to do any real talking. “We’re just going to end up hating each other, if we talk now.”

Whizzer is silent, eyes narrowing, before softening. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just.” He pauses, playing with Marvin’s fingers. “I don’t want to go to bed angry. We did that too often before.”

Marvin nods. “I agree,” he responds, intertwining his fingers with Whizzer’s bandaged ones. “I’m not angry. Are you?”

“No.”

“So, we’re good?”

“We fought this morning,” Whizzer reminds him. “You work too much.”

Ah, so that’s what that argument had been about, Marvin thinks. “You’re right,” he concedes a moment’s silence. “Let’s talk tomorrow about how we can fix that, yeah?”

Whizzer looks at Marvin, and Marvin stares back.

Three years ago, Marvin would have sneered at Whizzer that he was the one making the most money, so that Whizzer could afford all of his designer shirts and jackets. Three years ago, Marvin would have snarled Whizzer that his opinion didn’t matter, that if he wanted a say, he could start raking in some cash, instead of bouncing from bar to bar and living in other people’s apartments. But the Marvin three years ago has matured to be the man he is today, for the most part. In exchange, he gets Whizzer, who has also matured in the past three years and brings his opinions to the table, so they can talk through them and make compromises without judgement from either side, who doesn’t relieve his stress by sleeping with random men, who is making it work with Marvin (and Marvin with him).

“Promise we’ll talk tomorrow?” Whizzer finally asks, raising a wrapped pinky finger.

Marvin sighs, exasperated at the childish gesture, but nevertheless hooks his own pinky finger with Whizzer’s. “We can get together on my lunch to talk, okay?”

Whizzer nods, placated, and yawns. “Okay, let’s go to bed. I have a shoot early in the morning.”

“By the way,” Marvin begins, getting ready to rise from the couch, feeling the exhaustion from the day pulling on his eyelids. “Why are there Superman bandaids all over your fingers?”

“Oh, yeah,” Whizzer says, ignoring the question. “I have something for you,” He pulls away from Marvin and rolls over him, pushing the smaller man back down, as he stands. “Wait right here.”

He disappears into the kitchen, leaving Marvin alone. “I want an answer when you come back,” he calls out, shifting his gaze to watch the muted Full House episode playing on the television. He wraps the comforter Whizzer had abandoned around his shoulders and sits up against the cushions. He’s just gotten comfortable again when Whizzer comes back, holding something in his hands. Marvin cocks his head to the side, but opens his arms for the taller man to sink into his side, which he does and the object becomes clearer. “Hey, that’s my -”

“Your mug,” Whizzer finishes. “I glued it back together. I don’t think you can still use it, but hey, now it’s a piece of modern art.”

Marvin takes the mug into his hands, inspecting it. It’s quite simple, actually, a mint green color which a single, pastel pink colored heart in the middle. However, it’s his favorite for a reason. On the handle, the letters W + M are engraved. Whizzer had made him the mug a few weeks before they had broken up three years ago. To say that he had been devastated when, in a fit of rage, Whizzer had swiped his hand across the counter and knocked it to the floor, would be an understatement. He spent the entire commute to his law firm swallowing a lump in his throat. He’d always been the kind to get too attached to things (his previous marriage is a great example). “Whizz,” he murmurs, thumbing the engravement.

“I know how much you liked this stupid mug, and I felt bad about breaking it.” Whizzer tangles their legs together. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Marvin responds almost automatically. “Except, maybe calling my mug stupid. It was an accident.”

Whizzer snorts, resting his head on Marvin’s shoulder. “It’s a stupid mug that I made years ago for like twenty dollars. You’re just sentimental, but I am still sorry.”

Marvin doesn’t respond, instead pressing a kiss into Whizzer’s hair. “Thank you,” he says softly. “I really appreciate it.”

Whizzer is silent for a moment, before tilting his head up and placing a quick peck on Marvin’s lips, his eyes shining playfully in the television light. “Yeah, yeah, nerd. I love you too.”

“I didn’t say that,” Marvin responds, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Whizzer grins crookedly, genuine and mischievous. “I know, but you were thinking it.”

Marvin surges forward, pulling Whizzer towards himself to kiss the taller man more deeply, preening over the way Whizzer chases after he pulls away. “That I was,” he murmurs, leaning his forehead against Whizzer’s. “For now and forever.”

#i am forcing my way through this creative block #and im dragging whizzvin with me through my journey #whizzer brown #whizzvin #marvin falsettos #falsettos #in trousers #march of the falsettos #go and queue it up!#falsettos fic #mir tries writing!

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thegreatwhiteferret · 7 years ago

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I Won’t Hesitate No More, I’m Yours

Summary: Bill wants to keep his relationship with Richie a secret from the other Losers. Richie just wants to jump Bill's bones, but he settles for being a sweet boyfriend instead.

A/N: For my Anon who requested Bichie being in a secret relationship, and Richie being a sweet doting boyfriend to show Bill he cares, and Richie smut. Lots of Richie smut. I am sorry that it is late, but I hope you love it!

Obviously NSFW, so it’s under the cut. 💖💖💖

Richie was jumping out of his skin. He had officially had Bill all to himself for three weeks and he couldn’t tell anyone. Bill fucking Denbrough. The stud among mere mortals. Baseball star and all around average everyday superhero. He had also been Richie’s best friend since they were in Kindergarten, and Richie had had a crush on him for almost as long. They were now seniors in high school and Bill was all his.

Obviously Richie absolutely adores Bill, which makes restraining himself around the others an absolute fucking nightmare. He understands why Bill is apprehensive about telling them. Richie has known that he’s gay since he was in elementary school. He thought George Michael was pretty when all of the other boys were fawning over Madonna. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. Bill was different. He was straight laced, had dated Beverly for a while and then had a few other sweet girlfriends, emphasis on the girl. Richie had been shocked when Bill had hauled him up in his arms and kissed him for the first time, so he can only imagine how the other Losers would react when they found out that not only was Bill not straight, but that he had a thing for none other than Richie Tozier.

He understands. He really does. That doesn’t stop him from wanting to hold Bill’s hand in the hallway. Or wrap his arms around him at random times, or kiss him in public. He really just wants any form of physical affection. He craves it.

Richie knows that he has to be patient. That Bill will come around to coming out. He can handle the waiting for physical affection in public, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t be a super sweet and caring boyfriend in other ways.

The Losers usually attend Bill and Stan’s baseball games as a group. They do the same with Mike’s football games in the fall. They are a family and support each other as much as possible. It’s not unusual to find Richie sitting on the metal bleachers while the Varsity Derry Baseball team is playing. It is however unusual that rather than making lewd jokes and chain smoking with Bev, Richie is one hundred percent focused on the game in front of him. He cheers unironically, even though he has to ask Mike about the proper terminology and to explain what some of the calls on the field mean, because that guy’s foot was totally on the base first, how can he be out? He cheers for Stan when he throws a good pitch, and complements Bill on his powerful throwdowns to second base. He also really loves seeing his boyfriend’s ass when he’s squating down in his catcher’s position. Richie damn near loses his mind when Bill hits a grand slam and cements Derry’s win over West Lake. Ben and Mike cheer along with him, but Bev and Eddie think that there is seriously something wrong going on.

“Rich, are you feeling alright?” Bev asks, pulling him aside while the other Losers walk down to the dugout to wait for Stan and Bill.

“Yeah, Bev. I’m fine. Just feeling in touch with my school spirit and the good old American pastime today.” Richie gives her a big goofy smile, and she playfully punches him in the arm. They rough house as they walk over to meet the others, laughing the whole way.

“W-what’s so f-funny?” Bill asks, a wide smile etched on his face, positively glowing from the victory.

“Nothing much, just telling this one that I think I have come around to liking baseball.” Richie winks at Bev who dramatically rolls her eyes. “Hey, congratulations though Big Bill, and Stan the Man of course. You were on fire out there.” He is thankful that he threw Stan in there instead of all of his focus being on Bill. He’s got to keep his cover.

“Y-you like b-baseball? As m-more than a t-time to goof o-off with B-bev?” Bill raises his eyebrows in question, wondering what his boyfriend was up to. Richie slowly nods, sweet smile on his face. Bill is shook. “M-maybe we c-could go to the b-batting cages l-later? You c-could show m-me your s-swing.”

“That could be fun. I’d like to mess around with some balls.” He deadpans, and Bill almost chokes on his saliva.

“Okay, what the fuck is this? Invasion of the Body Snatchers?!?” Eddie squawks. He snaps his fingers in front of Richie’s face. “Richie? Richie, is that you in there? Blink twice if your brain is being held captive by some alien race.” It’s Richie’s turn to roll his eyes, and they head to Mike’s truck. Bill and Richie sit in the bed, and Bill lets him rest his head on his shoulder as they ride to the diner for shakes and burgers.

He counts it as a win, and later on Bill drags him back to the batting cages and they make out for a long time. Richie’s legs wrapped around Bill’s waist and back pressed into the metal fencing. Richie leaves with messy hair, kiss swollen lips, and a few seriously impressive hickies on his neck. Bill looks just as disheveled and that’s a win too.

At lunch the next day he makes sure to save the seat next to him for Bill. It irritates Eddie who usually sits there, but Richie claims it’s so Bill can proofread his essay for English while he checks over Bill’s Trigonometry homework. Eddie finally relents, and Bill smiles when he sees that the seat is open for him. They help each other with their work and bump their elbows together, loving the contact, even if it’s small. Bill splits his giant chocolate chip cookie with Richie too, which definitely means that this is love.

Richie is incredibly advanced and intelligent when it comes to both science and mathematics. He loves the concrete formulas that aren’t subjective. Bill does not love these subjects as much, he excels in the humanities courses. Richie checks over his homework and corrects it for him when he needs Bill’s help with an English assignment, but Bill thinks that he needs some actual tutorials. He mentions this when they are all working on homework in the library one day.

“I can help!” Richie volunteers immediately, drawing more eyebrow raises. He’s not known for volunteering to assist with other people’s problems very frequently. “What? I like math. It makes sense.” He says shaking his head.

“I would really appreciate that, Rich. I can help you with something for your Lit class in return if you’d like.” Bill offers.

“I think I’m squared away with that right now. Mrs. Jenson has finally given up on the Shakespeare crap and come to the more contemporary side. I’m sure we can figure something else out that I need help with, but I’m genuinely good with just tutoring you.” Richie is flipping through his physics notes so he doesn’t see the looks from the other Losers, Bill shrugs his shoulders in response to them, acting like he doesn’t know the motivation behind Richie’s offer. He just figures that Richie is being nice, they’re all a family he would do it for any one of them.

Richie ends up staying the night at the Denbrough house, because it is so late when he has finally managed to drill Soh Cah Toa into his boyfriend’s brain. Richie is flopped with his face in one of Bill’s pillows when the other boy comes back from getting ready for bed in the bathroom. He smells like minty toothpaste and face wash and clean laundry, and Richie flips over so he can look at Bill when he comes over to the bed.

“D-do you w-want to borrow a s-shirt and p-paj-pajama pants?” He asks already pulling a shirt out of his dresser.

“Just the shirt, Billy. I can sleep in my boxers if that’s okay. I don’t want to add to your laundry.” Bill nods, throwing the shirt to him and sliding into bed. Richie doesn’t bother going to the bathroom to change. He unbuckles his belt and jeans and slides them off of his legs. His boxers are black and red plaid like a lumberjack, and he loves them. He slides his flannel off and then his t-shirt. He can feel Bill’s eyes raking over his body from where he’s lying behind him. “Like what you see, Denbrough?” He asks, and turns to wink before sliding Bill’s way too big t-shirt over his head. Bill blushes.

“S-so. I think I k-know how I c-could make it u-up to you. It d-did take y-you a long t-time to help m-me.” Richie cocks an eyebrow at him, he was serious when he said that it wasn’t a problem at all.

“Bill. I don’t need you to make it up to me. I got to spend time working on my favorite subject with my favorite person. I’m good. It was no trouble.” Richie shrugs, but Bill looks pensive, like he’s trying to put words together.

“C-can...can I b-blow y-you?” Bill looks up at him through his eyelashes and Richie could have busted a nut right then and there.

“Whaaaat? Bill are you serious? We’ve never done that before, you’ve definitely never done that before period. You really don’t have to.” He rambles, but Bill is already pulling the covers off of Richie’s hips and working his boxers down. Richie is already getting hard, he strokes himself a few times to get his dick the rest of the way there, Bill watches the whole time. “I’m serious Bill, you really don’t have to.”

“I w-want to t-try.” Richie nods and props his head up as Bill leans forward. The first swipe of his tongue is tentative. Careful. He brings his hand up and begins jerking Richie off a bit, they’ve done this before a few times. They usually stick to making out, but Bill gets handsy when he’s had a bit to drink, and Richie just really likes making the taller boy cum..

Bill slides the head of Richie’s dick in his mouth, tonguing the underside a little, and then slides his mouth down Richie’s length. He can’t take him in all the way, but the wet heat of Bill’s mouth and the twisting pleasure of his hand jerking what he can’t take has Richie spiraling. He bites his fist so that he doesn’t moan out too loud, and let’s the pleasure take over his body. It might be Bill’s first time giving a blow job, but it is breathtakingly amazing. Richie can feel his orgasm building and he taps Bill on the shoulder.

“B-Bill. I’m gonna cum, you need to pull off.” He moans, but Bill stubbornly keeps him in his mouth. He can’t hold on any longer and then he’s cumming into the heat of Bill’s mouth. Bill sputters, choking on the abundance of jizz, and Richie feels awful. “Oh my God, Bill are you okay? I should have insisted that I pulled out.”

“I-it’s o-okay.” Bill coughs out, “It w-was just a-alot.” Richie blushes. And ducks his head down a bit. “W-was it okay f-for you?” Bill asks sheepishly.

“Fucking. Amazing. You’re a Goddamn natural, Denbrough.” He pecks Bill on the cheek. “Did you want me to return the favor?” Bill nods frantically, and Richie gets to work.

Pizza is one of Richie’s most favorite things in the entire world. Particularly pepperoni pizza. He could definitely eat a whole pie by himself. The Losers usually cut him off at four slices until everyone else is done eating. They’re all in Ben’s basement watching a movie on VHS, lounging around and eating pizza. Bill’s mom calls, and he has to run upstairs to make sure that it’s not anything important before he gets to have a single bite of pizza. Richie notices that there is only one piece of pepperoni left, he brings the box with him over to where he and Bill were sitting but doesn’t open the box. This time it’s Ben that questions him.

“Are you planning on eating that Richie, or are you just going to stare at it?” He asks, taking a bite out of a piece of cheese.

“Oh. No. It’s not for me. Bill’s favorite is pepperoni and there’s only one piece left. I figured that I would save it for him since he hasn’t gotten any.” Richie shrugged, distracted by the images on the screen.

“You’re saving a piece of you favorite food for Bill?” Mike asks slowly. It’s another very uncharacteristic thing for Richie to do.

“Yup.” He pops the ‘p’. Bill comes back down a few minutes later looking flushed. He slides two pieces of plain cheese on his plate before sitting down next to Richie.

“W-what’s this?” He asks, motioning to the pizza box next to Richie. Richie snaps out of his daze to answer.

“There was only one piece of pepperoni pizza left and I know how much you love it so I saved it for you.” By the look on Bill’s face you would have thought that Richie had just handed him the most precious thing in the world.

“Y-you save m-me the last p-piece?” Richie nods in response, why is everyone making such a big deal out of this. “Y-you are s-something else, R-Rich.” Bill smirks, and Richie feels warm and fuzzy about it inside. They don’t talk about it for the rest of the night.

Something is going on with Richie, Bill knows that the others are picking up on it too, he’s being so sweet. Bill’s never seen this side to Richie. He’s being more helpful to everyone, he’s more pleasant to be around, it’s been a big change since they...well since they started dating in secret. Bill knows that it has something to do with it, but decides that he needs to ask Richie to be sure.

They’re over at Richie’s house, his parents aren’t home, they’re never home but this time it’s been longer since the last time they were. Richie didn’t want to be in the house alone so he asked Bill to come over, Bill happily agreed hoping to get to talk some things out with the other boy. They’re sitting on Richie’s bed listening to music when Bill can’t take it anymore.

“H-hey Rich?” His boyfriend looks up from his notebook and waits for Bill to continue. “W-why have y-you been b-being so….s-sweet?”

“What do you mean, Bill. I’m not being sweet. Why are you and the others acting so weird. I can be considerate.” Bill raises his eyebrow, a universal sign to cut the bullshit. “Fiiiiiiiiiiiine, I guess i just like doing things for you. I can’t exactly jump your bones in public, on account of you wanting to keep our relationship a secret, but I still want to show you that I care...that I…” He drifts off, eyes wide, catching what he was about to say.

“T-that you w-what?” Bill inquiries, he’s not going to let Richie get away with cutting that thought short.

“That I...that I…” He’s stumbling over his words. “Ugh. Fuck you, Debrough! That I love you! There I said it, are you happy? I love you.”

“I l-love you t-too, Richie.” A grand smiles comes across Bill’s face. “C-can I s-show you?”

Richie nods. He’s been dreaming of this moment for twelve years. Bill closes the distance between them and presses a sweet kiss to Richie’s lips. Richie really leans into it, he wants everything that Bill has to offer. Bill swipes his tongue across Richie’s lower lip, asking permission, and Richie happily grants it to him. They fall back on Richie’s bed, Bill slots himself between Richie’s legs and lifts them so that his pelvis is pressing right into the crease of Richie’s ass. Richie can feel how hard Bill is through his jeans already, and he moans into the kiss at the thought. Bill reaches down and palms the bulge in his boyfriend’s pants. Richie feels tingly all over.

“Less clothes now!” He mutters out and Bill leans back enough to begin unbuttoning Richie’s jeans. Richie wiggles his hips so that Bill can pull them down, and then he kicks them off. Richie is tenting in his boxers, and he would probably be more embarrassed about it, but Bill is licking his lips just looking at it. Bill hooks his fingers in the bands of the boxers and pulls them down. He scrunches Richie’s shirt up until Richie gets the hint and pulls it off. He’s completely naked on his bed, legs spread and lifted to his chest, presenting his leaking hard cock and tight pink hole while his boyfriend stares hungrily at him. “You too Billy, you can’t fuck me with your clothes on.” Richie’s mind is tingling, his filter gone, and Bill groans at the bluntness of his words. He stands up from the bed and pulls his shirt over his head. Richie really wants to run his hands up and down Bill’s abs. He then undoes his own jeans, pushing them and his boxer briefs down. Richie’s eyes get really wide, he’s seen Bill naked before, but never like this, never with the possibility of Bill actually fucking him lingering in the air. Bill looks like a fucking Adonis, He’s all lean muscle, and so tall. Richie thinks that Bill standing there naked looking at him, is just about the most beautiful and perfect thing that he’s ever seen.

“G-god Richie. Y-you look so g-good.” Bill says, moving back to the bed. He’s back between his legs, this time when he presses his groin into Richie’s ass, Richie can feel his dick pressing between his cheeks. “What d-do you w-want, Baby?” Bill is less experienced in this field. Richie is the first man that he’s ever been with, he’s enjoyed the learning curve so far, but he’s terrified that he will do something wrong and hurt Richie.

“Gah, Bill. Can we...can we 69?” It’s the only time in his life that he has ever been completely serious while talking about that number. “And then, Billy, I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me so hard that I feel your huge cock for days.” Richie is whining. He wants everything all at once. Bill nods, he wants it too. He moves so that his hips and cock are hovering over Richie’s mouth and he’s positioned to take Richie’s dick in his own mouth. Bill makes the first move, he licks a stripe up the side of Richie’s cock, then swirls his tongue in the slit, collecting the beads of precum and moaning at the taste, then he’s taking Richie in, encasing his cock in wet heat. He pushes down until the head is hitting the back of his throat. Richie groans, and grabs handfuls of Bill’s ass. He uses this grip to lift himself up and slide Bill’s dick into his mouth. It takes a few tries for him to get warmed up enough for him to take his massive dick all the way in, but when he allows Bill to thrust down enough to slide into his throat slightly he’s rewarded with godly sounds. They pull each other apart with their mouths. Bill rolls Richie’s balls in his hand, and Richie thinks he will come immediately if they didn't stop. The student has obviously surpassed the master. “Baby, if we don’t stop, I’m going to cum and I won’t get your dick in my ass.” Bill pulls off with a slurp and moves off of Richie.

“D-do you h-have stuff?” Bill asks, face flushed from the previous activity, the flush is spreading down his chest and Richie can see that his cock is red too, painfully hard and ready to fuck until release. Richie nods and pulls a small tube of lube out of his drawer, he stops and looks at Bill.

“Do you want to use a condom?” He bites his lip, he’s nervous. There’s just so much that they haven’t discussed, but he’s been waiting for so long for this, he doesn’t want to wait to have sex until they’ve had those conversations.

“I...I uh. I d-don’t know. D-do you?” Bill’s priority is Richie’s comfort, and he doesn’t know what to say.

“I want to feel you. All of you. I trust you, Bill. I love you.” Bill nods in agreement.

“I l-love you t-too, Rich. I w-want to make y-you feel so g-good.” Bill pulls Richie in for another kiss. Richie hands Bill the tube of lube and then flips over so that he’s on his knees and elbows, sticking his ass in the air.

“You’ve got to stretch me out good, Big Bill. That cock of yours is massive, I can’t take it without prep.” Richie glances over his shoulder, and sees Bill gripping the base of his dick with his eyes shut tightly. Richie giggles, and Bill is not amused.

Bill lubes up his fingers, and kneels on the bed with Richie’s ass right in front of him. He runs his fingers down Richie’s back to the top crease of his ass, he watches in aw as Richie’s tiny hole flutters at the sensation. Bill doesn’t know what comes over him, but he leans forward and licks a stripe right across Richie’s hole.

“Holy fuck, ahhhh, Bill, yes.” Richie cries out in pleasure and Bill does it again, letting the tip of his tongue enter the hole in a teasing way. Richie moans out again and Bill pulls back and circles the hole with his index finger, rubbing Richie’s ass cheek with his hand soothingly as he pushes in to his first knuckle. “Gahhh. Mmmm.” Richie thrusts back, taking the rest of Bill’s finger in. Bill laughs at Richie’s eagerness. “I swear to God Bill if you don’t start moving your fingers…” Bill starts thrusting his finger in and out, shutting Richie up. If only he had known years ago that it could be so easy. When Richie is getting really into it he adds another finger. Spreading them apart and loving the sounds he’s pulling out of his boyfriend. He rubs his finger tips on Richie’s walls until he finds the spot that has his back arching and curses tumbling out of his mouth. “Yes, Bill, yes, Jesus fuck. Fuck me. I’m ready. Stick that fat cock on meeeeeeeee.” He half whines, half moans.

Bill pours a generous amount of lube on his cock and spreads it around, groaning at the feeling of his own hand touching his sensitive dick. He flips Richie so he’s on his back.

“I w-want to s-see you.” He says bashfully, but Richie is giving him the biggest smile. He helps Richie hook his legs over his shoulders,leaving his hole wide open for Bill and presses the blunt head of his cock against it. Richie moans at the pressure, and then Bill is slowly inching in. He has to screw his eyes shut, the tight heat better than anything he had ever felt in his life. “H-holy shit, R-richie. You f-feel so g-ggod, you’re s-so t-tight.”

“Mmmmm, you fill me up so good, Big Bill.” Bill growls at the nickname and slowly pulls his dick out of Richie and then slams his hips forward. Richie’s eyes damn near roll back in his head. Bill starts gaining more confidence and momentum, rolling his hips into Richie’s ass repeatedly. “Fuck yes, ugh, yes, fuck ugh. Harder, Bill. Oh my God.”

Bill is getting close, Richie is absolutely mesmerizing. He reaches a hand in between them and gets Richie’s cock in his hand, stroking in time with his thrusts. It takes less than ten tugs for Richie to tumble over the edge with a shout of Bill’s name, tingles taking over his whole body. As soon as Richie clenches around Bill’s dick his cumming too, pumping his load deep inside Richie, only stilling his hips when he’s completely spent. He pulls out carefully, still worried about hurting Richie. The other boy immediately makes grabby arms and Bill folds himself into them.

“W-was that o-okay?” Bill asks, feeling incredibly self conscious. He hopes that he was good enough for Richie.

“Okay? Bill, that was fucking amazing. You are fucking amazing. Like a sex God I swear, and you don’t even try!” Richie squawks.

“Y-you’re fucking a-amazing.” Bill says from where his face is tucked into the crook of Richie’s neck. “Y-you’re the s-sex God.” Richie laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound, one of Bill’s favorites.

“You’re only saying that because I just let you totally wreck my ass. I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Bill frowns, and Richie immediately calls him on it. “Oh hush. I wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything. I love you William Denbrough.”

“I l-love you t-too, Richard T-Tozier.” Bill smiles at him and kisses him again. He wants this forever, wishes that he had admitted his feeling to himself much sooner. There’s only one thing left to do. “H-hey Richie...w-what do y-you think about t-telling the o-others?”

“Really?” Richie’s eyes are wide, searching for some hint on Bill’s face that he’s joking or still has reservations, but Bill just nods. Richie attacks him with more kisses. They don’t have to keep it a secret anymore. Bill pulls away, and looks Richie right in the eye.

“I’m y-yours. I w-want the w-whole world t-to know.”

#Bichie #IT Movie 2017 #Stephen King's IT #Bill Denbrough #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #Mike Hanlon #Ben Hanscom #Beverly Marsh #Stanley Uris #Stan Uris #Smut #Slash

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