#this thought popped into my noggin and I had to share it with all of you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

castle-dominion · 1 year

Text

Bro I literally just popped in the disc, I love how it is blue this time & has different music. So cool bestie.

c3x16 setup

Ok so this is the first of a twoparter.

I don’t understand why they do this weird thing & then do the “36 hours earlier” titlecard. It’s valid but weird & I’m personally not a fan. Reminds me of the alien episode tho. I’ve also watched too much stranger things. & then when beckett was there I totally thought it would be like a clone or smth. Evil twin beckett.

Car parts, of course he’s already spoken to auto theft!

DID YOU JUST CALL HIM BABEY? LP: Ooh! Did I? What did castle say? My watch is broken, I need to reset it every now & then. If I die, don’t trust the time on my watch! Noggin is such a cute word

Seven years is a long time to be not a citizen, that’s sad, you should be a citizen anyway.

What is beckett looking at on her phone ono

Ah yes, the notes app. “the father (tumblr drafts) the son (journaling) and the holy spirit (notes app)” (corpsecoded, empty blog) RC: Got it! It’s a phone number! KR: I tried that RC: with all the area codes? KR: Yeah???? KB: Castle! RC: Coming! Work wife moments

Washington heights, the place that johanna worked at! It was the cousin to get into the family! Renting shifts is so weird to me. You answer the phone & don’t even leave the room to take the call?

KB: Robbed, & shot in the head. Unus: Apples & oranges, peaches & pears. Who’s in my house? Please get out. Apples & oranges, pizzas & pies. Get out of my house or I’ll kill you in the head.

Ew cops should not be allowed to lie. Mm, I should go back to improv. White boy in high school.

KB: Sorry guys... I have to take this (girl u take calls all the time) KR: *literally just walking to the observation room where beckett, esposito, & castle All are* KB: Sorry, Ryan. Not now. (That was So Soft) KR: ... RC: What’s up with her? JE: You know Beckett. She plays it close to the vest. KR: *looks back to where beckett left; looks over to where esposito also just walked off; holds up a finger* RC: KR: *tells castle instead bc he had it in his head that He Was Going To Share This Information & if he doesn’t do that then Things Will Go Wrong, another point for the adhd ryan headcanon, & besides Castle is basically a detective too now* RC: ... So I’ll tell beckett that KR: Could you? That would be best Why? bc he’s closer with her or she likes him so she won’t bite his head off? bc u have other stuff to do? bc he has better stuff to do obv

Where did he get that much money??

Ew hidden surveillance

Alexis is so pretty rn! Serenity DX DX Oh no, what kind of spiritual retreat...? Lmao alexis & rick, physics physics Oh! Physics exam! what a good dad, taking the fall for her RC: Best dad ever

OK NEW DAY Castle’s jacket looks great today. Checkered dark grey on darker grey. Dr motorcycleboy Oh no they be fighting.

Up the wazoo??? Who wrote that line??? Remaining costume update: Beckett’s jacket is nice, esposito is chill (but also has a dress jacket which is valid but kinda looks odd with the zip-up shirt he’s wearing), ryan is soft & sweatered but dressed nicely as usual, montgomery is the way he always is. Driving a loop, that’s sus!

This man is a college student & I love him

I cannot see easily where he is packing. I’m surprised montgomery noticed but then again they are cops & live in the usa.

Beckett if he was hiding it she probably would NOT know what it was, because, well, he was Hiding It.

JE: Cwoffee shop But how did you find that out??

*casually hands it to castle* At least she is asking for his permit to carry Syrian consolate, our guy was syrian too. Why didn’t he just say “no”?

Love ryan’s jacket over his stuff & esposito looks... interesting but not bad but def not normal

Ew secret police. Oh did ryan change his jacket since this morning? That’s odd, it looks like a normal jacket. I like the light pink collared shirt & then the cute sweater over it. It’s just so good. But they sure have him in sweaters a lot these coming episodes. Ah. Soccer Oh woah wait that was an odd whip! They made it look like the c4121652 was written twice. In reality, it was in the center. Everyone: So? Who types with their fingers & then HITS ENTER WITH THEIR INDEX FINGER? (I just spent ten minutes on hacker typer.) Storage unit? Who owns a moving company? the cousin!

That is disturbing. Why do you find that hot castle? WHy? Altho I can see in a normal way, some strong woman willing to weild bolt-cutters like that, she’s def hot, but that is not disturbing, what you find hot you say is disturbing & that’s really weird. & the first key is the right one? Al capone’s vault Totally valid for castle to stand like that. Dead body Or That! RUN BABE! Ok so she just has a geiger counter on her & it wasn’t crackling until it hit max? Like she didn’t just do a little bit at first? Well ig it took until she poked the thing... Why did she sound so aaaaaah anyways?

Well if you are not throwing up then you’re going to be fine

Who is this rando? Ah, DHS. Come on, cooperate my dude, I know you look pissed.

At least they gave them benches. How long did it take for them to set this place up? To be honest, grandma’s plateware would max out a geiger counter that cheap.

I have a question tho, he opened his notes app right before he was killed. Was HE renting the locker? He was not. He just found out about it that evening! Montgomery my beloved. RM: Just to be clear, are you taking over? DHS guy: No my friend JE: ICE sent over papers KR: He was a weapons guy. DHS guy: Now I’m taking over

RC: Well we will when it goes off, in that nanosecond before we’re vaporized. (Except it would not be enough time for your brain to fire off the signals for you to know) Girl talking about something else should not be about her personal issues. But at least it is turning out nicely. You are people. You don’t need to measure up. GEORGE CRABTREE MOMENTS, HE ALWAYS FALLS IN LOVE WITH DRIVEN WOMEN & THEY ALWAYS END UP CHASING THEIR DREAMS & THIS POOR MAN DIDN’T GET A WIFE FOR SO SO LONG SO LONG BESTIE Hun you need a QPR

Oh wow they’re fine. See? I told you their radiation counter would max out at old-timey dishware.

Alexis says “late night?” & then martha is leaving on a short roadtrip & castle is going to be heading back out there like when do these guys ever sleep? Oh good dad! Spend time with your family before y’all die. Or Also Send your daughter out there! Get her out of the city under false pretenses!

I had a radiation hyperfixation at some point. Speaking of Jenny, do we get a wedding episode? I’d love one like in Sherlock (the sign of three). Smart boys, all of them have tried to get their gals out of the city. JE: Didn’t work. She hates her mom. Dying laughing Did they only tell the homicide ones or did they tell the rest of the cops...? idk how bomb threats work. That’s valid! Kick him off! Castle you-... !?

Mum said that the baby was the bomb meaning there was no baby but I took it to mean that they gave surgery to the baby & implanted her with a bomb but that was silly. B’y beckett is the hard scary bad cop, she is a woman yes, but that does not mean she is the soft one who is designed to reel you back in. Greencard baby. “I never loved your mom. We had a baby to escape communist china!”

I thought they said it was a cash deposit, not wired... I love how castle is doing work on the computers today. Feels good to see. (the fbi: we’ve been trying to highlight things for years, but all our highlighters were black!) also just noticed: ryan is TEACHING castle how to “do grunt work” as he’d say

RC: An arab terrorist, who would believe it? JE: Think back bro RC & me: That Was My Point daisy-chaining, interesting verb RC: It’s not that well hidden if I can find it Could you be a terrorist without Jenny knowing?

GIRL YOU’RE UPSETTING THE BABY BABE REEL HIM IN GIRL SHE’S REELING YOU IN LISTEN TO HER WAIT YOU SPEAK ARABIC THAT’S ACTUALLY COOL HOLY FUCK & THAT’S SO COCKY OF YOU TO GIVE HER A HANDKERCHIEF mum said it was for tear dna also who is agent geiner? some other dhs one? EW DON’T BUG PEOPLE. PLAYING? BRO I HATE THIS MAN

Six hours before u & beckett got there but no time stamp? Ah yes, lead.

Ok so six hours before caskett got to the storage container, jamal was there. Then agent fallon said twelve hours ago he disappeared. So it’s pretty late. That scene with his face? He’s in on it. He’s the terrorist. Driven, good coop. As a person? Kind of a douche. That’s cops. In their job they might be great but they are often douchebags & upholding a bastardized system.

True!! Sadly not literally sweating bullets, but metaphorically yeah, if he knew what he was transporting he would have lost his dickens!

Oh the military did it. Definitely. Where are u going castle? I didn’t understand this here. I like the music too. Really good.

Run what down? The phone? He said he bought the phone, not that he credit carded the phone! Checked it out twelve hours ago? Fits with the timeline Ryan notices that castle is gone? & cares to ask abt it?

Oh it’s the consolate guy. I like how he’s having a fancy coffee at a regular old bar. This man is great. Talking, being as open as he can be despite his issues. What skills are yours...? I actually really respect this guy.

Oh... did he catch you or does he think you were making out? Keep your voice low. RM!!! He thinks outside the box <3 Lol castle was bluffing XD

Beckett says “martha” not “your mom” here. Ooh genius little man! Didn’t they just do this last episode? They went on their own to solve a case abt raglan (not raglan, johanna). Nice photo lol. RC: It’s like our own mini precinct KB: Except it smells better

Why does ryan grab fallon’s arm like that?

Except that people often forget about cab drivers, wait staff, mail personnel, etc.

Oh so y’all are planning on going to the warehouse where he was murdered? Haven’t you already been there & hasn’t csu checked it out???

Ok, you would have already heard the helicopter before it went into view.

Just like al capone’s vault bestie.

So whose car is that? beckett’s personal car? she has a car in new york? White van, dun dun dun!!! Oh it’s a bomb. 13 hours. It must be pretty late. Has anyone ever slept? & gunshots. It seems dangerous to shoot at them with a bomb right there. btw music design is cool. Tin is not great. Which door??? Ooh nice camera shots! Weren’t they shooting thru that box? Bro... they locked u in? DANG SOME FROZEN GUY! (& some fun audio!) Ooh so smart! Ripping off a tape job on the van!

Ok so that is the end & this box is a freezer. Is it a delivery truck box? That would make sense. I’ve been in walk-ins, I’ve had my fair share of cry sessions.

Welp that is the end of the first episode of this pair!

Again, the music playing in the episode selection bar is great. It really talks about the show. Sneaky, silly, & sexy.

not rly many clips here...

#castle 3x16 #castle 3x16 quote #castle 3x16 spoilers

0 notes

hopeamarsu · 2 years

Text

Kidnapping - Mafia Madness #4

Merlin (Kingsman) x reader

Word count 627

Warnings Kidnapping, pining, guns, shooting, death. The usual.

A/N: My first time writing Merlin! I hope you like my interpretation of him. This is set somewhere between the first and the second movie so after Valentine but before Poppy.

Merlin’s palms are sweaty as his fingers fly across the green keys of Kingsman jet mobile command center. Had he not been sitting already, his knees would be weak and his arms heavy as they shouldered all the blame of you getting kidnapped from your date with him. Why the team was here, in the Italian mountains and in pursuit of the mob.

His internal thoughts of how his body is behaving make Merlin let out a short bark of laughter. Of course Eggsy and his love of American hip hop would eventually find their way into his subconscious. You would love to hear that he’s seconds away from humming out the tune of an Eminem song in the middle of a mission. You’ll get a kick out of it for sure.

Merlin shakes his head, ridding him of the beat and lyrics, focusing back on the multiple screens in front of him. He’ll tell you later about this. This and much more, things he’s spent weeks rehearsing before finding the courage to ask you out. He’ll tell you it all when you are back in this plane, safe and well and he’s navigating all of you away from the snowy Alps.

Maybe he could direct the jet somewhere warm, Merlin ponders. Somewhere nice, with white sandy beaches and palm trees and cocktails out of a coconut. Somewhere where warm breeze dances in your hair and over his scalp, where loose clothing is the norm, and where he can hear your teasing in his ear about forgetting to put on sunblock on his ‘noggin’.

“Eggsy, status report?”

He is still not used to calling the young man by his given codename, Galahad. That title and name will always belong to Harry Hart and while thinking of the man will always result in a twinge of his heart, Merlin has done his grieving. It’s time to honor the man by continuing to fight the good fight. And this fight? This one might be the most important of them all.

“Coming’…got the… open the doors Mer…” Eggsy’s voice is broken into bits between static but the frantic way the young man yells in the comms makes Merlin’s fingers move with even faster speed. “Takin’… fuck!”

He pulls up the plane cameras on his screen, searching for the first signal of the oncoming rescue team. Merlin also prepares a few of the plane's hidden weapons in case Eggsy and Lancelot and you need cover to reach the plane. There! He spots three figures running towards the sleek aircraft, one of them limping and supported by the two others but even from a distance, the plane's monitors tell him they are covering the ground quickly.

Merlin presses the button of the door before abandoning his post by the desk and reaches for his trusted machine gun. His long legs that are covered by the standard Kingsman dress pants in sleek navy color, take him to the front of the cabin and he positions himself on the landing.

It’s a familiar feeling, holding the weapon and propping it up against his shoulder. He can feel his muscles tense and relax at the same time, his eye searching for any hostiles through the lens. The world slows into focus and he pops off a round, making the black figure in the distance fall. Merlin is calm, focused and none of the shakiness and clamminess is visible in him. He’s a weapon, honed to perfection, just like the entire plane the three of you are running towards.

Towards safety.

“Providing cover fire. Lancelot, Galahad, Lucan, get on board.”

The last words, whispered under his breath, are only for you to hear, even if they come through a shared channel. “I got you, mo leannan.”

Mo leannan = my love, my sweetheart, my darling

Everything taglist @clydesducktape @themuseic @miraclesabound @a-true-janian-reply @10blurredsmoke10 @caillea @mariesackler @princessxkenobi @sixshooter665 @amneris21 @strangunddurm

#mafiamadness #hopeamarsu mafia #mafia madness #merlin kingsman #kingsman fanfiction #merlin x reader #cw: kidnapping #cw: guns #cw: death #pining

46 notes · View notes

harlequinmoss · 3 years

Text

Aaahhh I haven't written anything in a really long time but I wanted to do something for pride month before it was over cutting it real close I know so here's a little coming out story with José and Panchito. It's set in the 40s because I refuse to write any other versions of them

Panchito and José arrived at their hotel around 10pm. It had been a long day for the both of them, each coming in from a long flight overseas that morning in order to visit their pal, Donald. Donald had picked them up from the airport and the group had a fun day doing touristy things, but after dinner the pair had grown noticeably exhausted. Not having enough space in his own home to comfortably house the both of them, Donald offered to put them up in a hotel room for the night rather than having them crash on the sofa in the living room. It took a bit of coercion, neither wanting to be rude, they were guests after all, but in the end they were too tired not to be easily convinced.

"I'll at least call a taxi over there," Panchito had insisted. "That way you aren't out driving so late."

"It's hardly late at all, but fine. I called ahead and made the reservation so you just have to pick up the key when you get there."

Panchito thumbed through his wallet to pay the taxi driver, thanking them as he handed them the money. He got out of the car, went around to the other side, and opened the door for José who was still fumbling around for his hat that he'd misplaced under the seat.

"There you are!" José started, smiling as he spotted the familiar straw headpiece and put it back in its rightful place upon his noggin. He turned to grab the door handle only to see Panchito waiting for him on the sidewalk instead.

"Oh! Panchie, what a gentleman…" He beamed, taking Panchito's hand for support as he stepped out of the vehicle. "Muito obrigado."

"You're very welcome." Panchito smiled back, shutting the door with a thunk once José was out of the way. "Mind getting the key while I grab our bags?"

"Certainly…" José nodded. "Meet you inside."

José tipped his hat and disappeared through the building's revolving door and into the lobby. Panchito took a moment to watch him go before remembering what it was he was supposed to be doing. He sighed to himself before making his way over to the trunk and popping it open. Holding his breath, he removed both of their suitcases from the taxi and set them on the sidewalk beside the car. He then shut the trunk a bit hard, too distracted to be mindful of his strength, and waved the driver off.

Feelings like this arose whenever he was alone with José. He did his best to suppress them, to act normal like the rest of his friends, but it wasn't easy. A part of him dreaded what was about to come. Sharing a hotel room, sure it was just for one night, and they'd have separate beds, but that didn't make it any easier.

"It'll be fine," Panchito told himself. "I just need to take a moment to compose myself and then I'll go inside. We're both tired. We'll probably end up passing out right away and tomorrow we'll reconvene with Donal and everything will be back to normal."

Panchito took a deep breath. Then another. Then, he grabbed the bags up off the concrete and walked through the revolving door to meet up with José. Perfect timing. José had just gotten out of line for the key and happily waved his friend over as he headed toward the elevator.

"We're in room 313." José proclaimed with a small laugh as Panchito caught up with him. He pressed the button to the elevator, the one on the left immediately opening with a short ding.

"313? Donal did that on purpose no doubt…" Panchito laughed to himself as they stepped inside, refusing to look directly at José.

José nodded, not noticing this avoidance, and he relayed the floor number to the elevator operator who shut the door and brought them up. The two stood in silence in the meantime, their eyes half lidded, both too tired to think of anything else to say. Luckily, the ride wasn't long. The pair thanked the operator on the way out, José tipping them with a spare coin he had in his pocket.

As they headed down the hall, José mumbled the number to himself as if to not forget. 313, 313, spoken softly on repeat in his sweet voice. Panchito held his breath and stared intently down at their luggage. Soon, they arrived, and José quickly turned the key in the lock, extending his other arm as he opened the door.

"After you, Panchie…" José smiled, speaking with such a fondness that Panchito could hardly bear it.

Panchito nodded and started his way in through the door, head down, and José let the arm he had extended wrap around his companion as he followed him inside. Panchito stiffened. Normally, he could shrug off this type of thing, but something was different about tonight. He didn't know why, but every scrap of interaction was much more overwhelming, more amplified. He swallowed and clenched his mouth shut, terrified of what he might say.

"Hm? Are you alright..?" José asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched Panchito move away from his touch in order to set down their luggage. "You've hardly said anything since we left Donal's house…"

"Por supuesto. Sólo estoy cansado…" Panchito sighed. "Just tired…" He repeated again in English.

"Right..." José started, not entirely convinced but not wanting to press the matter. "Let's get ready for bed then."

Again, Panchito only nodded in response. José sighed and made his way next to his friend. Each opened their respective suitcase and retrieved a set of clothes to sleep in. José slightly leaned on Panchito as this motion occurred, just a light brushing of their arms together, but it was enough to send shock waves through Panchito's heart. This type of casual intimacy was something José did with everyone, but Panchito couldn't help thinking that José targeted him more often than anyone else. He was right, though José would never admit it.

"I'll change in the bathroom." Panchito said suddenly, once again moving away from his companion. He quickly disappeared through the bathroom door, leaving José alone and a bit dazed.

José stood silent for a moment, watching the door, a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once.

"Why is Panchie acting so strange tonight? Is he okay? Is it because of me? He's definitely avoiding me, it's not just my imagination, right? If he finally figured out my true feelings it could be out of anger or contempt. Oh God, what am I going to do?"

José noticed his heart racing and scrambled to calm himself down before Panchito returned.

"Okay. It's fine, if he knew, he wouldn't even want to sleep in the same room as me. Just get changed and pretend like everything's normal. We're both tired, it'll all be okay by the morning…"

José sighed. He threw on a plain yellow t-shirt and took off his pants so he just had his boxer shorts on underneath. As he was putting his discarded clothes away in the suitcase, Panchito emerged from the bathroom in a cowboy themed set of pajamas. Both blushed seeing each other and silently made their ways to their respective beds, turning off the bedside lamps that lit the room in the process.

"...good night, José." Panchito said after almost a full minute of silence.

"Good night, Panchito." José responded, refraining from using his nickname in fear it'd make matters worse.

The two lay quietly in the dark, unable to fall asleep despite the day's exhaustion. Both shifted in their beds many times over, transitioning through periods of shut eyes to staring at the ceiling to watching the other while they had their back turned so that there was no risk of being caught. Neither dared speak. Their routine went on for what seemed like the whole night, but probably wasn't more than an hour or two in reality, until…

"José?" Panchito asked in a whisper, trying to field whether or not his companion was awake.

"Sim?" He responded, pushing himself halfway into a sitting position in order to face his friend. "Do you want to tell me what's been bothering you?"

"I...can't. You'll hate me forever." Panchito choked out, covering his face with his hands.

"What?!" José's heart sank. He sat up the rest of the way and flicked on his lamp so that they could see each other. "Panchito, nothing you do or say could ever make me hate you."

Panchito looked over at José through the cracks in his fingers. His face was serious, a tonal shift from the care-free facade he usually put on. Panchito sighed and paused for a moment before sitting up as well.

"I'm not so sure…"

"Por favor me diga o que está errado...please…." José pleaded.

Both sat with lumps in their throat, hoping desperately for something just out of reach, not wanting to break what's already there. Panchito was the first to cry.

"I can't-- every day, every time we hang out together it's all about the girls. 'Oh, look at the pretty señoritas! Let us try and win their affections!' And I have to join in and compete and pretend like that is what I want to do. I do not know how much longer I can take it! I want to be normal, believe me, I wish nothing more, that would make this so much easier but--"

"Panchito..?" José mumbled, tears streaming down both of their faces at this point.

"But I do not care about the señoritas, not hardly, I never have. I have to pretend. For your sake. And Donal's. The two of you are my very best friends and I do not want to lose either of you but...but...es tan difícil fingir….I can't say it. It's not right, it's not even legal, is it? But how am I supposed to go on like this when the person whose affections I want to be competing for is…"

As he spoke, José made his way over to Panchito's bed without him noticing, sitting next to him for a moment before deciding it'd be better to kneel in order for them to be the same height.

"Panchie…" José sighed and wrapped Panchito in a warm hug. "It's okay…"

"No it's not! How can you say that when--"

"Shh…" José turned Panchito’s head to face him and tenderly cupped his cheeks as he wiped away tears from his eyes. He then placed a soft kiss to the top of his forehead.

Panchito's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, startling him enough to cause him to stop crying. He looked at José with a dumbfounded expression, José only smiling back at him softly.

"You don't have to pretend anymore. Not with me. How about we trade one secret for another, hm?"

Panchito nodded, shaking, still processing everything that just happened.

"Are...are you sure?"

"Of course, don't be silly. I hate the tears, but I'm very happy to hear you feel the same way."

"You mean...you don't care for the señoritas either?"

José laughed.

"I do. But I also care for the cavalheiros. And I very much care for you…"

"Oh." Panchito smiled, wrapping his arms around José. The smile didn't last long, however. "What will we tell Donal?"

"Hm. Well, I do not think he would hate us. He does not seem like the type, no? But let's not fret any more about this tonight. We can worry all we want in the morning."

"Okay…" Panchito nodded, taking another moment to process things before laying down and taking José along with him. José let out a small giggle.

"Panchie! What's all this for?"

"Well, we are going to bed, are we not?"

José blinked, quickly understanding Panchito's request. He shifted, entangling himself comfortably in Panchito's arms, his head resting on his chest. He took a moment to listen to the steady beat of Panchito's heart before speaking.

"Yes, I suppose we are…"

The pair once again said their good nights, but this time they fell asleep almost instantly. Neither knew what lay ahead for them in the days to come. Would they tell Donald, or would this be a secret just for the two of them? So many uncertainties, but one thing was certain. They had each other. And that was enough.

#josé carioca #panchito pistoles #jose x panchito #the three caballeros #ttc #disney

42 notes · View notes

shadowling-guistical · 3 years

Text

Sit and Bleed.

Roman asks Remus for advice, and Remus delivers. In his own, mildly disturbing way. Somehow, bonding ensues.

Yeah idk either. I shared this to one of my friends and they said, and I quote, "Hey mishi i love you but wtf? Did remus posess you?"

So like, enjoy?

WARNING: Extensive blood talk, period talk, mild injury, mild gore, and generally just canon typical Remus shenanigans.

---

"Do you think that it's true?" Roman had asked him one day, "That writing is easy? That you could just sit at a typewriter and… And bleed?"

It had been dusk, and somehow, Roman had Imaginationed the setting sun to send it's final rays streaking across his room. From where Remus had been lying, splayed out on Roman's carpet like a human sacrifice waiting for a malevolent god, it looked sickeningly beautiful. The gold that bathed the room, the warmth and splendour, he thought it was just saccharinely horrid.

Roman turned his chair to face him. Remus turned his head. A heartbeat turned into two before he scoffed.

"Please," Remus idly picked his nose, rolling the products he found jammed up in his sniffer into a small hard ball and flicked it off to god knows where. He hoped it landed on Roman's pillow. "If writing were that easy, I'd twist my foot off and feed it to Virgil's tarantula,"

"It used to be,"

Remus sighed, swinging his legs up before he leapt onto his feet with a soft oof. Roman went back to his writing, ignoring the sound of Remus' spine popping when he straightened himself. The Duke sauntered to Roman's desk, looking over his shoulder to see…

Nothing.

Well, nothing substantial .

Bits of writing here, a doodle there, scratched out ideas at the corner, angry scribbles at another…Oof.

His twin must have noticed, because Roman’s tone was bitter.

“Not anymore,”

"Yeah well," Remus muttered, thinking of glittering yellow eyes filled with mischief and a sly smirk underneath a shadowy hood, "A lot of other things used to be easy too,"

"Well? What do you think?"

Riiiiight, typewriting and bleeding. Remus scoffed, "Well willya lookit that. You never asked me before, why start now?"

Roman groaned, "... Remus I’m serious here,"

"Hey! It's true," Remus swiped the paper and crumpled it into a ball. Without looking, he threw it over the shoulder. Roman scowled when he sees it bounce onto his bed, "What's up, Prince stink-a-lot? You ask me to come hang out. You didn't kick me out when I wiped boogers onto that skinned angora cat you call a carpet, and now you're asking me questions? What gives?"

"...it's just…"

God, it’s just this and it’s just that , Remus wanted to pull his hair out already. He wished Roman would just spit it out. Just vomit it out and get this over with. Really, getting his stupid twin to just spew whatever was rattling in that noggin if his was worse than pulling teeth out of a gator. And Remus would know, he tried it a lot over the years.

"I just wanted to be like you,"

And there it was, whatever thing that had been sitting in his twin’s gut like a 5 foot long tapeworm.

…

Like him.

Like Remus.

The Duke of Dastardly Deeds.

Mr. Dark and Disgusting himself.

Roman "Pretty Boy" Sanders wanted to be like him?

Remus leaned forward, far more amused than shocked.

"...You're fucking with me,"

"No, I am not," Roman was looking at him with those intense green eyes of his and woah… the guy really was serious, wasn't he?

Huh.

Curiosity reared it's head, familiar and cloying somewhere inside of Remus' stomach. Then again, it could have been the extra potent shaving cream he had over his deodorant earlier today. Who fucking knows.

"Why?" He finally asked.

"Because… You've always made it look so… easy," Shaking hands ran through unruly curls, "It comes easier for you than it did for me. Always did. Just— How do you do it, Remus?"

The other twin considered it for a moment.

Had it really? Admittedly, Remus didn’t really notice it. He hummed. Sit on a typewriter and let yourself bleed , huh?

Well. He apparently had a crisis to handle.

Remus leaned against Roman's desk. Lightly, he ran rough, clumsy fingers on a splotch of dried ink absorbed into wood.

The tone that his Other Half (Don't make it weird Tumblr, he didn't mean that way. So put those pitchforks down and back away. Thanks.) had used while gesturing to the stack of papers and feather quills on his desk now morphed into disgust, "it feels like I just don't have any flowing in me anymore,"

"Well duh," long, dirty fingernails tapped against polished wood, "It's because bleeding isn't supposed to be easy, you doofus," He sighed, and Roman’s expression caused him to nearly want to groan and drape himself over the table. God, it was so fucking obvious that Roman really had no idea, did he? "You know, If you wanna go all gross metaphor with me, you gotta at least not half ass it,"

"Okay, but half ass it how? That how the saying goes,"

With all the tact and delicacy of a blunt axe, Roman’s words were cut off.

"Then it's a shit saying,"Before Roman could protest, "Look do you want me to help or not? Yeah? Then good. Just shut up for a sec and spill the juicy details," Pause, "Okay, what do you know about periods?"

Roman stiffened, obviously beginning to not like where the conversation was steered to. Because not even Jesus could take the wheel when Remus was behind it. However, Roman reluctantly let his shoulders relax when his twin brushed him off with an eye roll. Cautiously, because Remus still needs to be handled much like a skunk would.

"Remus— “

"Oh just relax. This is going somewhere. Trust me. And I won't do any shit I can't clean up. Just answer the question,"

Roman looked queasy, but swallowed heavily. He supposed he did ask, "I guess, just what Thomas learned in Sex Ed,"

Hm, he could work with that.

"So absolutely shit! Great! I just love the educational system in Florida. Wonderful. Wish the Nerdy Wolverine was here to tell you. But you only got me so it'll have to do— Should've prepared a whole musical number about it too—"

Remus held out his palms, and Roman sees the skin tighten. It strained and stretched before it ripped into a bloody gash. Roman grimaced, the other unperturbed. In fact, he daresay Remus looked curious. Like he was mulling over what to say.

"Eh, Follow up— Have" Remus let the blood pool into his cupped hands. A tablespoonful turned into a cupful and soon it was overflowing. He tipped his hand so that the blood dribbled down. Drip drip drip, a small stream of blood hit the floor in splatters, "Have you seen it before? Period blood?"

"What?” Oh god, he feels like he could gag, “Gross—! No of course not,"

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Unfeminist much?" The dry tone was met with protest.

"I'm not!—" Roman spluttered, "I don't go around looking for what comes out of people's pants, Remus!"

"Yeah yeah, but did you know they're chunky though?"

"I— What the fuck Remus?"

"Just...humour me for a sec. So they're chunky," Remus sort of flicked his hand, sending smaller droplets flying. A particularly large droplet streaked across Roman’s floor, "Thick goopy, disgusting— Hey, think of that the next time you scoop out some Crofters eh?"

Well, there nearly goes Roman's lunch.

"Oh god.” He pushed down the tickle at the back of his throat, “Please don't— Just, get to the point,"

"Okay okay. Jeez. The point is," two scarred, calloused hands rubbed together, letting the blood smear, "Is that even blood flows differently,"

The hands raised up, tinged red and both of them marred with an angry, red, jagged tear.

"Look at this shit. See? Not everything that comes out is the same. Some places will drip. Others flow and some? They're chunky. That's just how it is. you can't expect chunky blood to flow as easily as fresh blood,"

Without letting Roman mull on the morbid metaphor, he ploughed on.

"Oh yeah— And blood coagulates. It dries up and turns to scab. It won't stay bleeding forever. It's not supposed to. And expecting it to is just stupid, so write that down with your fancy quill,"

Blinking, Roman's mind slowly caught up with him.

Flowing blood and drying and scabbing— He soon deflated.

Oh.

Oh…

He just watched wordlessly as Remus wiped his hand against the fabric of his outfit. Flakes of dried blood sprinkled down joining the droplets on the ground like some sort of morbid snow.

" And just in case you forget, because of course you do. Scabbing is good. Personal experience guaranteed. It heals things. Plus…" the hand with the cut waved again. Exaggeratedly, mockingly, and even Roman couldn't help but to crack a smile, "You gotta make a pretty deep cut if you wanna bleed a lot,"

Maybe Roman was imagining the softer tone that Remus had let bleed into his voice.

"And if you bleed a lot, you gotta let yourself scab,"

A long, slow exhale.

He had to let himself scab.

"And… You've kinda been bleeding a lot, didn’tcha?"

"I…" Roman swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, "...Yeah...I think so,"

"Been making some huge cut lately to get it flowing?…"

"...Mmmm…" Shaking breaths, fragile and soft. Okay… okay… "Remus?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you… do you think I can… I should—"

Should he stop?

"... Course you could, you stupid bleeding heart…" a hand found itself in Roman's hair, gently carding it. Really, almost petting it, "...But fuck Ro, if that isn't the thing we all love about you, you doof. Of course you can. And you should. In fact, I am telling you to,"

Hesitantly, a pair of arms circled themselves over Roman's shoulder, pulling him close.

Remus didn't mention it when he saw broad shoulders decorated in tassels begin to shake. He didn't pay attention to the soft sobs that sent a Prince, unwavering and strong, shaking. He didn't care about the way Roman's face had crumpled.

"It's time to let it scab, Roman. And try not to pick at it too much,”

Outside, the figure that had been leaning against the door for the better part of the last 10 minutes smiled.

Heh… Credit where credit's due, he supposed.

He tilted his bowler hat forward and began walking down the hallway. No need to worry.

Who knew that the Duke had it in him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #creativitwins #remus sanders #roman sanders #ts remus #ts roman #tw blood #tw periods #tw mild gore

41 notes · View notes

theshylittleelfgirl · 3 years

Text

Whew! this idea has been in my noggin for a while now and i finally had the brain power to actually write it! Horaaay for BIG BRAIN! If you liked this story please be sure to leave a comment to let me know if i should continue it or if you liked it, There's going to be some spelling errors i pray that you forgive that! It is awfully late here and my brain is fried right now lol

I added a little bit more to the story not much, It was really bothering me so i fixed it! Part 2 will be coming soon :D

Enjoy!❤

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

I was sitting in Levi's office reading a book on his couch, I have finished my daily routine, I decided to spend my free time with levi.

But that short fucker was To busy doing paperwork.

We haven't had sex in like a year....A Year!

I was always trying to get him in the mood, running my fingers up his sides in the morning trying to make my intentions clearer, but apparently he got all huffy and said 'Quit pestering me brat, I'm trying to sleep here.' and then he would roll back on his side facing away from me.

'What a rude shithead' i huffed.

Then an idea popped in my head, it was getting pretty late maybe just maybe we can have sex and fall asleep cuddling, It would usually help the both of us relax after a long day.

"Hey levi?" i said in an innocent voice.

"What?" he said irritated he looked up at me briefly then back down at his paperwork.

I strutted over to him standing behind his chair massaging his shoulders unbuttoning the top of his shirt ghosting my fingers over his collarbone. "I'm going to get ready for bed, why don't you join me?" i whispered seductively into his ear. "Maybe i can show you how flexible i've become." i nipped his earlobe.

"No, I can't leave this paperwork you go ahead and lay down." his face remained stoic not phased in the slightest.

I growled and stood in front of his desk slamming my hands down but not getting his attention what so ever "All you ever do is paperwork levi! i get its part of your job but fuck! we haven't had sex in a year, A Fucking Year Levi! i've tried everything to get your attention but you continuously refuse my advances, What do i have to do? Write "Fuck Me" on my forehead to get your attention?" i panted after my rant my face red with anger.

He finally looked at me for the first time this night his icy glare pierced through me like a dagger. "If all you want to do is spread your legs then your not fit to be in the scouts, You want to be fucked so bad? then go find someone else to do the job, I got priorities to attend to and you aren't one of them, Now shut the fuck up and leave me the hell alone!" he snarls when he was met with silence only then did he realize he fucked up, "Y/n, I-i.." he couldn't muster up the courage to apologize for his shitty words.

Hair fell in front of my eyes "If that's what you really think of me then i think our relationship is officially over Captain, I won't bother you ever again." i went into 'our' room grabbing a bag i began stuffing my belongings toiletries,clothes,drawings into said bag. He heard the dresser jores being opened and closed 'Shit! she's going to leave! do something moron!' he jumped out of his chair rushing into the room and saw me packing my things. "Y/n, baby, Wait please i didn't mean what i said i swear, I'm just stressed that's all." he tried placing a hand on my shoulder i shrugged it off. "Don't." i said darkly "Don't fucking touch me." once my things were packed i swung my bag on my shoulder walking right past him not sparing him a glance.

I reached the door i felt him grab my arm i halted my movements. "Please don't do this." he begged.

I ripped my arm out of his grip "I hope your paperwork can keep you warm at night, Captain, because i won't be anymore, Asshole." i opened the door slowly shutting it not wanting to wake up the other soldiers.

I walked the dark halls trying to find hanji's room 'I should of brought a lantern with me.' once i knew i was far enough away from levi's room i slid down a wall it was only then that his words started to sink in 'Asshole...what a fuckin asshole! Mikasa warned me about him why didn't i listen to her? god i'm so stupid.' i laid my bag beside me hugging my knee's to my chest i sighed 'I tried so hard to see his side on things, To understand his pain what he went through, Understanding how he was about as romantic as a cactus, His cleaning obsession's, I tried so hard for him.' I buried my face in my knee's silent tears fell down my face.

I began to sob 'Why would he say something so fucking cruel?!' hugging my knee's tighter i began to shake.

"Y/n?" he deep masculine voice echoed in the halls.

I looked up to see a bright orange light illuminate a tall manly figure then i looked up to their face.

"Erwin?" my voice cracked

"Y/n, What happened? your eyes are almost swollen shut." he kneeled in front of me.

"Levi he....he." tears began to pour from my eyes. "He hates me, He thinks i'm some kind of whore who will spread her legs openly for any man, He told me i wasn't fit for the scouts, that i'm basically a burden on him." i sobbed into my hands shaking even harder.

Erwin sighs "Levi has always had a sharp tongue sometimes he doesn't think things through clearly." he looked to your side and noticed a bag. "You have no where to sleep, Why don't you come into my office and you can take my bed i'll take the couch, How does that sound?" he gently placed a hand on your shoulder.

I looked up at him tears still falling from my eyes. "I'm not going to kick you out of your own room Erwin, i wouldn't feel right doing that to you." you looked away embarrassed that the commander saw you in this state, but he's seen me like this countless times he and i were friends after all we would share our burdens over a glass of whiskey once in a while.

He took my small hands into his calloused ones and squeezed them reassuringly "I have no problem with sleeping on the couch, I hardly ever use the bed anyways, So you wouldn't be taking anything away from me." he smiled gently.

I looked into his calm ocean eyes i hesitated for a minute but nodded "Okay, i will if it's truly no problem." sighing knowing there was no arguing with him.

"Its settled then, Lets get you to bed, You must be exhausted." He let go of my hands and stood up he lent his hand to me, I took it and he helped me stand noticing my tear stained cheeks he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief he offered it to me.

I took it from him and gently began dabbing the soft fabric on my eyes and cheeks, I offered it back to him and he held up his hand "Keep it, You need it more then i do, Besides i have a million of those things in my dresser." he chuckled picking up the lantern.

A small smile formed on my lips i nodded stuffing the handkerchief into my pocket.

"Shall we then? you'll catch your death in this cold hallway." he inclined his head in the direction of his room/office.

I reached down and grabbed my bag off of the floor slinging it over my shoulder once more.

"Lets go." i simply said erwin began walking down the dark hallways if it wasn't for his lantern lighting the way i would of been lost forever in these damnable stone hallways.

"If you don't mind me asking, Why was he being so harsh this time? not that i'm excusing those awful untrue things he said." eyes glued to the steps in front of him.

I looked away from his back my voice deeply saddens. "I just wanted him to come to bed and relax with me, I'm sorry if this is to much info but we always made love and then we would cuddle afterwards whenever he was stressed and he was extremely stressed tonight, so i offered to help him relax and that's when he..." i choked down my sob breathing rapidly.

"E-erwin do you think he's...?" i couldn't finish the words 'Would he stoop so low that he would cheat on me? Am i not enough for him anymore? does he take me for a woman who would sleep around with other men? Why would he say those horrible things to me? What have i done wrong other then try to love him flaws and all?' a million thoughts ran through my mind, i felt a weight on my head i looked up to see erwin looking at me sadly he ruffled my hair.

"No, Levi is definitely not the type to run around, He really loves you y/n, I bet he feels absolutely awful for what he said and i imagine he's beating himself up over it, Levi is a tough person to get along with but you have dedicated your heart and soul to him, He wouldn't throw that away just for some random woman, Not only are you the bravest most loyal soldier your the most kindest caring person as well, That's a rare thing in these times, He's lucky to have someone like you y/n." he took his hand away so he could look into my eyes.

I began to tear up again. "His words cut me deep erwin, I don't know when or if i'll ever forgive him, his hurtful words are still fresh in my mind, But i do appreciate what you said to me, That's probably the nicest thing i have heard in a while." i smiled through the tears.

He nods. "Its going to take some time for you to heal and that's completely understandable, You are more then welcome to stay in my room for as long as you want to, But if you ever feel uncomfortable, Hanji isn't that far from where i am, She would more then welcome you to stay, Just be prepared to be interrogated she doesn't give up easily." he sighs

"I'm fully aware." I giggled a little taking the handkerchief dabbing my eyes again.

He smiled and began walking again i followed him looking back into the dark hallway wondering what he's doing right now, i sighed directing my head towards the back of the commander.

Unbeknownst to you, Levi lingered behind one of the archways (is that what they call it? its 3am give me a break lol) listening in on yours and erwins chat.

He clenched his hands into a tight fist knuckles whitening. "I fucked up, Now eyebrows is going to take her away from me, I'm such a fool." he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I have to fix this, No, I Need to fix this, But how? i'm clearly shit at my words." he sighed

"Maybe hanji can help?" he started to feel hopeful, he was either desperate or crazy to even consider help from the mad scientist, Definitely crazy.

With his mind made up, He pushed off the archway(?) looking at that orange light fade away into the darkness once more he turned away and began walking back to his room.

"Please don't give up on me y/n." he pleaded.

To Be Continued.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi attack on titan #angst #romance #comfort #jealousy

62 notes · View notes

red-becca · 3 years

Text

Too Many Reds

One last oneshot I wanna share before Revin week. I swear, this is the last one-

Anyway, I originally only had plans to do one with a lot of Kevins. Much like @nunukim-182's art. As seen here.

But then, I got obsessed with an anime with five Reds. Which is Quintessential Quintuplets (Goutobun No Hanayome). Also, I don't just think Red when watching the anime. It is genuinely a good anime that I enjoyed.

That's about it, really. Hope you enjoy this!

---

"Kev~ Kevin Stoley~ Wake up already, please~" A familiar voice could be heard whispering into Kevin's ear. "Come on, Kevin~ Wake up~"

Kevin made small noises as he squirmed, slowly opening his eyes and seeing his redheaded girlfriend give him a look of concern. "Red? What... What's going on? What happened exactly?"

Red sighed in relief, gently pushing the male's hair back. "Oh, thank goodness that you're okay. No need to call an ambulance for you..."

"Well, none of this would have happened anyway if a certain brute of a lady wasn't so rough with him..." A girl who looked exactly like Red suddenly popped into Kevin's vision, the clear distinction being that she had massive black angel wings and a thorny halo floating above her head. Not to mention, a long flowing black dress and really dark makeup that rivaled the goths' makeup.

"Wait, what?" Was all Kevin could say as he stared at the girl with squinted eyes, still feeling disoriented from waking up.

"Hmph, stop acting all high and mighty! Which you are not, by the way!" Another girl who looked like Red showed herself to the male's vision, her differences this time being that she had on a Viking helmet atop her wild unruly hair that had a few baby braids scattered about and a large battle axe strapped behind her.

"Alright, alright... Girls, I think we should all calm down before we end up scaring Kev off again like last time..." You guessed it, yet another Red clone was with them. This one had clothes resembling that of a pirates, with large gold accessories and a huge scar across her face to go along with the look.

"Oh, shut your mouth! You have no right to boss us around like that! You're not that much older than we are!" Viking Red yells at her, huffing and crossing her arms. "Stop acting like you can easily just be the middle man between the five of us!"

"Hmph! As much as I hate agreeing with such a brute like you, you're right!" Dark Angel Red puts her hands on her hips the turns to Pirate Red. "Don't you ever dare boss us around like that again!"

Pirate Red let out a few nervous laughs as she raises her hands in defeat. "I'm sorry if it seemed like I was bossing you around, you two. I just don't like any fighting between us..."

"She is right about one thing, though!" And then, one final Red showed up. She had three tentacle looking aliens wrapped around her along with a clear green visor over her eyes. "Look, Kevin looks really freaked out at us!" The alien points at the male which makes him jump and get even more nervous.

All five Red looks over at him, making him jump again. Viking Red spoke up first and squinted her eyes at him. "And so he does... What the heck, Kev? Why are you looking at us as if you had only just met us? Huh?"

"Because I have just met you!" He yelled out, getting off his girlfriend's lap, if she even was his girlfriend as he was having serious doubts after witnessing to what was right in front of him. "Red! What the fuck?! Why are there like... four more of you?! And who the fuck are you four?!"

"Umm... Kev, there's always been four of me? Hell, you've meet all five of us before..." Normal Red raised a brow at him, giving him a confused look.

Viking Red angrily pouts at his words, her face looking exactly the way Red does whenever she gets angry. "Hmph! Typical of you to forget about us just like that, Stoley..."

Kevin was about to speak up but Pirate Red beat him to it, letting out a few laughs before she spoke. "Well, the stunt you did with him was pretty severe... Maybe it did a number on his noggin there..."

"So, you're saying it's my fault he's like this?! Typical! Always blaming me when something goes wrong with Kevin!" Viking Red huffs, looking away as she crossed her arms.

"There's no point in arguing about him losing his memory now... All we have to do is introduce ourselves to him all over again. That sounds like the most plausible thing to do... What says you, Alien Red?" Normal Red turns to Alien Red who was happily playing and petting with her aliens. "Alien Red?"

"Hmm? Oh! Me!" Alien Red giggles cheekily and rubs the back of her neck then immediately loses the cheery expression. "Well, first off! Call me by my proper title, you peasants! I am a queen by birth!"

"Didn't you technically renounce that title of yours, princess?" Viking Red smirked, glancing over at her before looking away again.

"W-well... Again, I am a queen! And so I did... Because ruling my kingdom became too much to me... But I am still a queen in my heart!" Alien Queen Red gave a proud grin before turning back to Normal Red. "Wait, Red... What was your question again? I forgot..." She giggles shyly and rubbed the back of her neck.

"Typical... Despite being the oldest one here, you are such the airhead..." More giggles could be heard from the alien. "Then again, you got distracted by yet another snarky comment from our dragonslayer who hasn't even slain a dragon herself for years now..."

"Ooh! You just got roasted, girl!" Pirate Red hollered. "And not even by a dragon as you haven't even seen one in ages! Oh! You just got burned again! How does that make you feel, so-called dragonslayer?!"

Dragonslayer Red smirked as she looked down. "Why, just great, really... It gave me the genius thought that if I can't slay a dragon right now, I'll just slay one of you bitches right now!" She grabs her battle axe from behind her back, ready to swing it right to the pirate's neck.

Dark Angel Red sighed as she used some of her dark magic to stop the dragonslayer before she could even get near the pirate. "What is also typical is all four of you acting with literally no class! Like a bunch of children!" She huffs as she lets go of the dragonslayer. "Let's just get the introductions over with already! I'll just do it for us, even!"

She clears her throat before turning to Kevin, giving him a small curtsy. "Greetings, Kevin Stoley. My name is Dark Angel Red... I know it might be pretty obvious with how I look, that is what I'm named. But just to make things clear and all that..." She points to Alien Queen Red.

"Now, you might have heard her name already but I'll still introduce her, either way. Her former Majesty, Alien Queen Rivqah of the planet Cervana. We mostly just call her Alien Queen Red for short."

Alien Queen Red waved at Kevin and he responded with a small wave back, letting out a nervous laugh as he did so.

"Now, here is-" Dragonslayer Red cuts her off, scoffing loudly as she puts her axe back on her back.

"Oh, I'll damn myself to death first before I even think of letting a stuck up bitch like you introduce someone like me..." Dark Angel Red just rolled her eyes in response. "Anyways..." She spits on the ground and crosses her arms before giving Kevin a death glare, making him gulp nervously.

"I'm impressed you managed to forget someone like me... Unlike these whiny girlies..." The other four girls glare at her after she said that. "I have a personality worth remembering..." She proudly said along with a huge grin, a hand on her chest.

"Umm, I think you were supposed to introduce yourself there... Did you forget to?" Alien Queen Red pointed out, making her face go red and the other Reds giggle under their breath.

"I- Uh- Of course not! I was just getting to it and you interrupted me!" She let out another loud huff and crossed her arms again.

"Oh, right! Of course! My mistake, Dragonslayer Red! Go on then!" The alien giggles innocently, a small smile on her face.

"I mean... You fucking ruined my introduction by saying my name there but..." Dragonslayer Red looked over at Kevin and pointed a finger at him. "You heard it, Stoley... The name's Dragonslayer Red and you better not forget it. Got it?"

"G-got it!" Kevin nodded, shakily raising his hand to give a thumbs up.

This, for some strange reason, got the dragonslayer all flustered, making her look away and cover her face with one hand. "D-damnit... Why must you do that?"

"H-huh? D-do what?" The male asked with a confused expression on his face.

"Ugh! Be a nuisance, obviously!" She angrily yelled, growling underneath her breath.

"S-sorry then!" He raised his hands in defeat, this version of Red definitely being his least favorite with how hostile she was to him.

"And there you go again! Such a nuisance!" She huffed, walking away from the small group to clean her axe.

"Uh..." Kevin wanted to approach her and apologize but was scared she would just snap at him again.

"Oh, just ignore Dragonslayer Red, Kev... She's the biggest tsundere between all five of us..." Pirate Red giggled, waving a hand in the air.

"I am not a tsundere!" Dragonslayer Red yelled. "How many times do I have to tell all you girlies that?!"

Pirate Red laughs a bit before turning to Kevin. "Guess it's my turn, hmm? From my get- up, you would assume my name would be something as simple as say... Pirate Red?" Kevin nodded at her question. "Well, wrong! I'm actually Swashbuckler Red! I used to travel far and wide to find booty..." She smirks at Kevin. "Then I found a booty worth staying for~" She finished with a wink.

Normal Red immediately pushes her away before Kevin could say anything more. "I, uh... Hi, Kev... You obviously already know me... I just get called Red... As there's nothing that special about me..." She nervously laughs before clearing her throat. "Anyways.. Kev, after that whole mess, do you remember us now?" Normal Red asked as all five of the girls stood in a line before him.

"Uh... No! Actually, that whole introduction thing didn't help me at all! Look, I didn't hit my head, lose my memory or anything else!" Kevin yelled as he slowly walked back but all five Red simply just walked towards him.

"Hmm... It seems to be that his condition can't be treated by us simply introducing ourselves... I think each of us need to spend more alone time with him and help him remember something about us..." Dark Angel squinted her eyes at him.

"Oh, yes! Sounds the most scientifically accurate way to get better results!" Alien Queen Red happily exclaimed, wrapping her arms around one of his. "I get first dibs on hanging out with him alone!"

"Uh, no..." Normal Red grabbed hold of his other arm. "What makes you have the right to do that? Nothing, right? Therefore, I have the first dibs on getting him alone because-"

"You're his best friend, blah, blah, blah... We know..." Dragonslayer Red groaned and rolled her eyes as she grabbed Kevin by his collar. "That is a shitty excuse, girly. If anything, he should get to know me first seeing as I am the most amazing and cool one between us..."

"Oh, please... You don't even like him. So, why even bother introducing yourself to him, you filthy brute?" Dark Angel Red huffed as she grabbed hold of Kevin's leg.

"W-well..." Dragonslayer Red started getting flustered, shaking her head to get rid of it. "Whatever! What do you care?! This is my life, not yours! I do what I want with it!"

As all the Reds started yelling and fighting over him, Kevin ended up screaming on the top of his lungs. And that was when he woke up from the horrible nightmare he had... Kevin was now back in his bed with a slowly waking up Red beside him.

"Ugh, Kevin... What the heck, sweetie? It's like..." She checks the alarm clock. "3 in the morning... What's with the scream- Ah!" She yelps as the male hugs her. "A hug? Geez, if you wanted to cuddle while we slept, you could have just asked..." She blushed as she hugged back.

"Oh, it's you! It's really you! The one and only you!" He happily exclaimed, hugging her with tears in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah? It is me? And there is only one me? Why are you saying the obvious to me?" She looks down at him with a confused look.

"I..." He chuckled softly as he cuddles up to her. "Okay, this might sound crazy... But I actually ended up having the same nightmare you had a while back..."

Red laughs at this, cuddling him back. "Please... Kevin, we live in South Park... That's the least crazy sounding thing to be said ever..." She kisses the top of his forehead. "But that nightmare made you realize something, right?"

He gave her a nod and a kiss on cheek. "Mhmm, firstly... More than one Red is not Heaven, it is fucking Hell..." Red laughs at him again. "And that... I'm really happy with the one and only Red I have... The perfect Red for me..." He smiled up at her before they went to sleep again.

#sp red tucker #red sp #red x kevin #red mcarthur #sp kevin #kevin stoley #kevin x red #sp red #red tucker #south park red #sp revin #revin #south park #south park ships #sp ships #oneshot

8 notes · View notes

archaneanscribe · 3 years

Text

A Firefly In The Hand

Some pre-canon/pre-relationship Forsython, Forsyth trains at night, remembers a local tradition, and Python reminds him that he'll never be alone.

The moment Forsyth’s plans set into motion was after he heard his parents exchange goodnights the room over. He kept his eyes shut, but began reciting one of the old veteran’s war stories in his head to keep him awake for the next thirty minutes, listening closely for any noises in the house. When the only sounds he could hear was the distant bleating of his neighbor’s goats, he shrugged his blankets off and hopped out of bed.

Moving as quietly as his feet would allow, he made his way over to the window and pulled it open, climbing up and out into the quiet darkness.

Sneaking through the village late at night wasn’t a new activity for him by any means, nor was it for any of the local youth. During the summer, a mass of fireflies would light up the sky every year, and it was regional tradition to catch one in your hands and make a wish that was certain to come true, but the younger children were sent to bed long before they appeared. This, of course, began a long standing and unspoken custom to sneak out after everyone else had gone to bed. Forsyth remembered those evenings fondly, catching one for both him and Python (who couldn’t be bothered to do it himself) and gleefully refusing to share their wishes.

Usually, he would wish to become a knight one day, but there were other, even more secret things he hoped for too.

Tonight, however, he wasn’t off to hunt for fireflies, but train. If Father wouldn’t let him do it during the day, he would just have to do it when he was asleep.

It wasn’t long before he had made his way out to his favorite clearing in the nearby woods. It was a fairly open area surrounded by a ring of tall, hardwood trees, with many bushes scattered around for him to hide his training lances, lantern, and bandages for worse case scenarios (he often had to forcibly enlist Python to help him come up with reasonable excuses for the injuries). He never put his things in the same spot to avoid detection, effort that his best friend told him was unnecessary as no one was even looking for them, but that was Python, who told him any effort was unnecessary.

At the moment, his stash was nestled into a wild blackberry bush which will lay dormant for another month or so, where they had spent many a summer afternoon ruining their dinner. He pulled out the crude wooden lance, which only looked anything at all like a weapon because the blacksmith from the next town over had taken pity on him when he was in the village for a horseshoe delivery and helped him carve it.

That was how most of the adult’s saw his aspirations. Just a child’s fantasy to indulge in, even as he grew into teenhood.

He gripped his lance tighter.

After lighting the lantern with his flint and stone to give the night some small illumination, he took the frustration of never being taken seriously out on the invisible enemies laid out before him, swiping at them in his best mimicry of the forms in his book on combat. His father tried to take it away from him, but his mother had always felt bad and returned to him later on.

More pity.

“Haaaah!” he let out a huff of exertion as he lost his footing, sliding forward an inch further than he had meant to and nearly falling.

“Really? This again?”

As he righted himself, a familiar voice emerged from the darkness, and Python came into the dim lantern light, arms behind his head in judgemental nonchalance, “Yer pop is gonna be mad.”

“I know that. And you should know by now that won’t stop me,” he replied, swinging once more, “I do everything he asks of me all day, so I can do what I want at night.”

Python shrugged, taking a seat against one of the thick tree trunks. it was a common enough occurrence for his friend to join him, as he would often be up anyway, choosing to instead nap throughout the day like a cat. His parents weren’t all too fond of the behavior, but unlike Forsyth’s family, they had long given up on changing him.

“You know I’m all for doing whatever it is ‘ya want,” he said with a dismissive wave, “I just thought you might need the reminder. You actually seem to care when he yells at you.”

Forsyth paused, glaring down at the dirt like it had wronged him, “I don’t care about his opinion so much as it’s suffocating to be there when he’s angry. We just aren’t going to see eye to eye, which I’m fine with, but he refuses to accept it.”

A jab, and a snicker from Python.

“Are you picturing an enemy soldier, or your old man?”

“Both.”

They shared a laugh at that. Despite their differences, and how often they would get on each other’s nerves, if there was one thing he could never be in Python’s presence, it was dour.

“Any success with hunting lately? he asked conversationally as he resumed, now focusing more on his footwork than his lancework. It may have been hard to believe, but out of all the teenagers and the village, Python easily had the best bow arm, and thus the hunters always forced him to tag along. Forsyth suspected the only reason he gave in is because hunting had significant down time compared to carpentry.

"I guess. Been seeing a lot of wild boar lately, but I don't think I'll tag along for that. A lot of work I'm not willing to put in."

Forsyth scoffed, "Two boar could feed the village for a week and a half! If you helped, it would save you a lot of work in the long run."

Python hummed in consideration, snuggling into his relaxed position even more like he was barely listening, but Forsyth knew he was actually thinking hard on his words. One of the few things he would put effort into was the saving of effort, after all.

"We'll see. It's a problem for tomorrow."

"If you," step, jab, "Always," step back, block, "Put off," downward swing, "Your problems," upwards swing, "Until 'tomorrow', then you'll never get to enjoy 'tomorrow'."

"Your form was off in the middle there, more shoulder, less arm," Python pointed out, and Forsyth adjusted accordingly, "That might be true, but if yer always doin' everything today, then you can't enjoy the moment. Either way you lose something, and I'd prefer to reap my benefits before I'm old and wizened."

Shaking his head, it was Forsyth’s turn to shrug, "I will never understand you as long as I live."

"Feeling's mutual, pal."

And for the next few minutes, there was silence between them. When they were younger, their time was almost always filled with antics, arguments, and mutually prodding, and there was still plenty of that, but they were now able to enjoy long periods of quiet together.

Of course, nothing lasts forever.

"Python, look!" Forsyth called out, letting his lance arm relax, "Fireflies!"

True to his word, a group of fireflies formed a small bundle of light that was hovering near and on the bushes.

"They're a little early, but it is getting to be that time," Python supplied, getting up and brushing the dirt off his posterior, "Reminds me of when we were kids, staying up too late to see the lightning bugs."

"You're right..." he put his training lance aside, Forsyth reached out to trap two in his hands, a much easier task as a sixteen year old than a nine year old.

Python walked over to him, smiling in a soft way Forsyth thought might exclusively be for him, but didn't dare be so bold as to be sure of that, "Caught one for me too, just to finish the trip down memory lane?"

"Maybe I just want two wishes for myself."

"Ha!" Python gave him a friendly jab in the ribs, "You'd never be that selfish, it'd give you a stomach ache. Though your lofty dreams need as many wishes as they can get."

Forsyth’s heart fell. He often forgot that even his best and longest friend also saw his dreams as silly.

He did his best to sound chipper, "I think I'll just let them go this time. No need to rely on some bugs when I've got hard work!"

As he opened his hands to release them, he felt something, or rather someone, force them shut, "Hey now, what's all this about? That ain't like you."

"It's nothing."

"Don't give me that. Nothin, is ever just nothin' with you."

"You're being awfully pushy about this. Why do you even care?"

Even in the low lighting, Forsyth could see a unique flavor or anger flare in Python's eyes at that, making a feeling bubble in his gut he couldn't name. The look was gone as soon as he saw it, but it wasn't something he would soon forget.

"Dealing with you normally is already more work than I feel like doin', and it's double that when you're mopey. Better put the work in now than be forced to deal with it later, right?"

That's what Forsyth always said to him.

"It's- No one takes me seriously. Not my parents, not anyone else in the village, not even you. I won't give up no matter what anyone thinks of me, but I would rather not be dismissed anytime I open my mouth. My dreams aren't just some joke!"

"Forsyth," Python tightened his grip on his friend's hand, making Forsyth worry he was killing the poor torchbugs, "Listen. I do think what you're tryin' to do is impossible. But I know you're serious about it. I take everything you do seriously, even if they're wastes of time. Have I ever tried stopping you?"

"...no."

"And have I been there for all the nonsense?"

"...yes."

"Am I here, keepin' you company because I know that you get unto yer own head on nights like these, when I could be in my comfy bed back home?"

"Yes."

Python released him, so he could in turn release the fireflies, thankfully alive, though likely quite annoyed, "Then that's that. I would love it if you learned to settle for a little less, but I'm never gonna get in the way of your big dreams. Yer gonna need someone with a good head on their shoulders to keep your big old noggin' from floating away anyhow."

"Python..." Forsyth grinned, much more like his normal self, "I'm sorry for doubting you. Lazy layabout you might be, bad friend you are not."

"Glad to see your common sense came back. While we're here," he smiled mischievously, "Why don't you tell me what you wished for?"

"It won't come true if I do!"

And like that, they argued amicably until their exhaustion finally caught up to them (and Forsyth’s father was an early riser, so he had to return soon), and they walked back to the village together.

Forsyth hadn't come out here to find fireflies, but he had, and even better, rediscovered that no matter what he might feel in the moment, he'll never be truly alone.•

#2k #2k words #well its 1.8k lol #forsython #forsyth fire emblem #python fire emblem #forsyth sov #python sov #sov #fire emblen #fanfic #fanfiction #writer on tumblr #suu's scribbles

5 notes · View notes

just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years

Text

Tie Your Hair Back, Baby || Brian May x fem!Reader

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD OF A FIC I POSTED LAST YEAR ON A DIFFERENT BLOG. I DID NOT STEAL THIS; IT’S MINE. The other version has since been made private. There have been some very minor changes made to this version.

summary || you have a crush on brian may. that’s obvious. and he doesn’t have a crush on you. that’s also obvious. but maybe - just maybe - you could be wrong about that. the flat is empty, it’s saturday night, and it’s just you and brian sitting on the couch. who knows what could happen? friends to lovers. modern day au. college au.

rating || explicit (18+). do not read if you are under eighteen. there’s some fluffy aspects to some of the smut, but it’s mostly smut. there’s hints of various kinks in here - brian has a thigh kink, reader has a hand kink, etc. - but nothing that extreme at all. as always with my work, there’s an abundance of profanity.

word count || 8.5k.

author’s notes || this is for the anon who said this was their favourite fic ever and was sad that it was no longer available. i’m so fuckin’ sorry this has taken longer than i said it would to upload - legit, it just completely forgot oop. it just popped into my noggin this morning and i went oh shit i forgot to do that, so here it is! yet another modern day college au! but not in the same ’verse as the try series, obviously.

masterlist

You blinked open your eyes, taking a moment to register your surroundings, and then stretched. You yawned, looking down at yourself. You were in the room that you friends Brian and John shared, lying on top of Brian’s bed, which was made, but you had a blanket thrown over you, and someone had slipped off your shoes, which sat neatly by the door. You knew you’d dozed off while scrolling mindlessly through social media on your phone, so you must have fallen asleep with it in your hand — but over there, on the bedside table, your phone had been plugged into the charger.

Shit. How long had you been asleep?

You sat up, feeling groggy. You’d come over to the little flat that Brian, Freddie, Roger, and John shared to study with Brian for the upcoming exams, but you’d only studied for about an hour and a half before you’d decided that you were too exhausted to focus any longer. Brian had offered his bed for a nap, as he always did. You’d thought about inviting him to join you for some activities that did not involve napping, as you always did. But held your tongue — as you always did.

That had been at three. You checked your phone — now it was almost six in the evening.

“Shit,” you sighed. Talk about a wild Saturday night. You yawned again, and staggered out of bed, heading to the bathroom to splash water on your face and have a drink.

You looked bedraggled, in short. While the old, oversized T-shirt you were wearing had been fine to sleep in, denim shorts had not been the most comfortable. You tried to fix your hair, but it was a bit of a lost cause, and your eyes were slightly bloodshot, your face puffy, and very much not in a cute way. Thank God you’d been friends with Brian for a long time, long before you’d started fancying him — he’d already seen you at your worst a thousand times, so you never had to worry about impressing him.

Not that there was any point in trying to impress him, anyway. He’d never see you like you saw him. But you’d come to terms with that. You were okay with it.

Or so you told yourself.

You shuffled out to the main room. You’d fallen asleep to the sounds of conversation and Roger getting worked up over some Xbox game, but now the house was silent.

Brian was on the couch, reading. He had one foot resting on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, and a mug by his foot. He glanced up at the sound of your arrival, smiling softly. Your heart squeezed at the sight of it. “Good kip?” he asked.

You hummed, nodding. “Where is everyone?”

“Well, it’s a Saturday night,” Brian said. He stretched, as if he’d awoken from a nap himself — he’d clearly been focused on his book for a while. “So who knows where Rog and Fred are. At someone’s for pre-drinks. I think one of them mentioned something about a new club in Soho. And Deacy and Ronnie are on a date. Deacs made it clear that he won’t be coming home tonight.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, how saucy.”

Brian smiled, shaking his head. “Leave him alone.”

“No, I think it’s great.” You headed over to grab Brian’s mug, which was empty. “They’re so cute together. I’m making tea, want some?”

“Yeah, if you’re making it,” Brian said easily. He checked his watch. “Oh God, is it that late already?”

“That’s what I said,” you said, padding over to the kitchen. “Did you take my shoes off when I was asleep? Plug my phone in and stuff?”

“That was Deacy, actually,” Brian said, turning back to his book. “He didn’t realise you were asleep, and went to get changed for his date, and he thought you looked a bit chilly, so he took it upon himself to make you more comfortable.”

You smiled. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, he can be nice, when he wants to be,” Brian joked.

“Sorry I fell asleep for so long, by the way,” you added. “I’ll just have a cuppa and then I’ll head off.”

“No, don’t be silly, stay,” Brian said with a slight frown, not even looking up.

You had dinner there frequently, knocking elbows with the boys as you all tried to fit around the small dining table, but hearing Brian insist that you stay, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, still made your stomach flip.

Especially since it was an empty house for the night. You knew nothing would happen, of course it wouldn’t, but it was easy to let your imagination get away from you. What would Brian do if you marched over there right now and kissed him? With no prying eyes or ears, no concerns about someone coming home at any minute? Would he kiss you back? He was a good kisser — you’d heard it from John, actually, of all people, who’d said he and Brian had snogged for a particularly wild game of truth or dare at some party — and you weren’t too bad yourself, you’d been told. And Brian’s hands; you could wax poetry about those hands. God knows you’d spent enough time staring at them, imagining what they’d feel like on your skin, in your hair, in your mouth, in your—

Tea. Right.

You sighed, shaking your head to clear it, and put the kettle on.

“What d’you want for dinner, then?” Brian called.

“Hm?” You moved from the kitchen, away from the roaring wheeze of the kettle.

Brian glanced up from his book. “What do you feel like?”

You shrugged. “I’m not fussed. I’m not really hungry right now, actually.”

“What about that Thai place?” Brian suggested.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of it,” you said. “We can get something else.”

It was Brian’s turn to shrug. “No, I’m happy if you’re happy. I know how much you love it.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

“I’m sure.” He picked up his phone off the couch, and said, “You like the pad see yew, don’t you?”

“With chicken, yeah,” you said. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll get it next time, then,” you said. “No discussions.”

Brian glanced up at you, smiling. “All right,” he said with a chuckle. “Deal.”

The kettle switched off, and you headed back to the kitchen, going about making two cups of tea. You found a packet of biscuits on the counter — judging by the way it had been ripped open and left on the counter, Roger had had a go at it — and brought them over with you.

You set down the mugs on the coffee table, and the biscuits beside them. Brian reached over and took his mug, taking a sip. He hummed contentedly. “Cheers. Food should be here in about half an hour.” He picked up his book again and continued reading.

“How is it?” you asked, nodding to the mug in his hands and taking a sip from your own.

“Perfect. I don’t know how you do it, but it’s perfect every time.”

You smiled, glad that Brian still had his nose in his book, so he couldn’t see how horribly adoring the smile was. “Practice.”

“Must be.” Brian put his tea down again, and took a biscuit.

You settled back against the couch with a sigh, tea in hand.

It was so quiet in the flat; you weren’t used to it. Brian’s flat was a place of noise and music and banter and, oftentimes, mess. Now that it was unoccupied, bar you and Brian, it felt different. Not better or worse, just different.

You could understand why Brian usually liked to be alone when the flat was empty. It wasn’t often he could read in the living room without being disturbed.

Not that he was completely without distractions. You were there, anyway, and as content in the silence you tried to be, you quickly grew bored. Your phone was still in Brian’s bedroom, and it felt too far away to be worth the effort of getting up.

You found yourself watching Brian, as was not uncommon. He was mostly still, apart from when his lips moved the slightest bit every so often as he mouthed the words that he was reading. His hands, long and slender, flipped each page fluidly. You leant over to read over Brian’s shoulder. Lots of complicated science words. No thanks.

You tapped your nails against your mug, sighing. Naturally, there was always the option to just stare into space and daydream completely inappropriate things about Brian — that was how you spent most of your university lectures these days — but it felt a little too much with Brian less than a metre away from you.

It was almost unbearable being this close to Brian while no one else was around. Every movement he made seemed magnified, and every thought of yours was so loud in your head that you could have sworn that Brian would‘ve been able to hear them. You gripped your mug tightly, giving your hands something to do. Your eyes flitted up and down Brian’s body, instinctively searching for some way to touch him without arousing too much suspicion. If you didn’t touch him in some way, no matter how innocuous the touch may be, you felt like you would explode. You’d always been a tactile person; you liked holding hands and hugs and cuddles with your friends. Some people called it needy. You liked to think of it as affectionate.

You tried to hold back around Brian, though. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

But there was one thing that you could do.

You reached out and touched his arm, gently running your finger up and down his forearm. He transferred his book to one hand, and held out his other hand to you. You took it, resting it on your knee, palm facing the ceiling, and traced your finger over every line and vein in his skin.

It was something you tended to do whenever you grew bored and Brian was nearby. You had no idea if Brian knew that you were just looking for an excuse to be in contact with him, that you needed it like you needed oxygen, but you hoped he’d just put it down to restless fidgeting. He never seemed to mind, anyway.

You placed your mug back on the table, and flipped Brian’s hand over this way and that, idly inspecting. Finding every callous he’d gotten from years of playing guitar, every small scar, every freckle. You were familiar with it all well and truly by now, but that didn’t matter.

The more impulsive part of your brain wondered how Brian would react if you took his hand and sucked his fingers into your mouth.

It was harder to resist than you cared to admit. But you managed it.

You turned his hand over again, and drew a line with your fingertip from his palm to the inside of his elbow. He breathed in sharply, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. You drew the line again, and he shifted in his seat.

“Does that tickle?” you murmured.

Brian hummed. “A bit.”

You wanted to draw the line up his arm, over his shoulder, and up his neck. But you didn’t. Instead, you let his hand go.

“You can keep going,” Brian said, keeping his hand on your knee. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you asking me to?” you said, your voice lilting playfully.

Brian paused, and then said, “No,” and took his hand back.

You pouted to yourself. You knew Brian wouldn’t flirt back, but it still stung.

Now you were back to square one, and your body was begging to touch Brian once again. You wanted to snuggle up to him, feel his arm around you. Wrap yourself around him. Maybe put your hand under his shirt, and count his ribs with your fingers. Press kisses under his jaw.

God, you had to stop it. It had to be unhealthy to let your mind wander like that so often. But it was just so hard not to. So easy to justify to yourself that if you couldn’t have Brian in real life, you could at least have him in your imagination.

Brian was still reading, oblivious to your self-inflicted suffering.

How much could you get away with?

You shifted closer to him on the couch, pretending to read over his shoulder again. He angled the book so you could see more easily, and you moved even closer, practically curled up against his side. You sighed, pretending to get comfortable, and, in a moment of complete lunacy, hooked your legs over his lap, leaning against the couch.

“Is this all right?” you asked, as nonchalantly as you could manage.

Brian made a noise of disgruntlement, and raised his arm. You took a moment to comprehend, but then you realised — holy shit holy shit holy shit — he was inviting you in. You shifted closer, and leant against his shoulder, and his arm came around you, dragging you in closer still, and then settled around your waist. “That’s better,” he mumbled, barely even looking up from his book.

You swallowed, your heart about to burst through your ribcage. You tried not to give away how nervous — and excited — you were, and took a deep breath to settle yourself.

It wasn’t the first time you’d sat like this. Or similar to this, anyway. But usually it was when you were both drunk, or there wasn’t any room on the couch to spread out, or you were tired and desperate for a cuddle. You’d sat like this with basically all your friends before. But it almost never felt this... intimate.

You’d never felt this turned on with your other friends, anyhow.

“Can you turn the page for me?” Brian said, and you reached over and did so.

You’d have done anything for him. You’d have killed a man if he’d asked.

“What are you reading about?” you asked, just for a reason to stare at his face. He was so close to you. You could lean over and kiss his cheek, or tilt his chin towards you with your hand and kiss his mouth. But you didn’t.

Brian sighed. “Would you like the long answer or the short answer?”

You considered this. “Both.”

Brian paused.

“Sorry, am I annoying you?” you cut in.

Brian looked to you in surprise. “What’s that?”

“I keep distracting you from reading.”

Brian flipped the book shut and set it on the ground beside the couch. “I was only half-reading it anyway.”

You made a face. “Sorry.”

“No, not your fault.” Brian smiled at you, reassuringly. “Are you all right? You seem a bit off.”

Kiss me. “No, I’m fine.”

Brian’s thumb brushed over the side of your ribs through your shirt, just tiny little motions, and you pressed your lips together to stop yourself from making some stupid noise you’d most definitely regret.

“You sure?” he prodded.

You nodded, ducking your gaze to hide your face.

You could feel Brian’s eyes on you, and you looked down at your hands in your lap. Brian’s hand slipped lower, and when his fingertips came in contact with the bare skin that your shirt revealed, you sucked in a breath, your back arching slightly.

You swallowed. “Um,” you squeaked. You frantically tried to think of something to say, to distract you, because Brian’s touch was muddling your brain and muddling your impulse control. “Do— We—“

“Yes?” Brian prompted, and he sounded... smug, almost.

He knew what he was doing. He knew. Which meant that he wanted to make you flustered.

You looked up to him, meeting his gaze. The look on his face made your stomach drop, and you breathed in shakily. “Bri...”

“Yeah?” he breathed. His hand, painfully slowly, slipped under your shirt, up your back, and you bit your lip.

“What are you doing?” you couldn’t help but ask.

Brian’s hand froze, his face dropping. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“No,” you blurted, shaking your head. “No, that’s not what I...”

His movements continued, fingertips running up and down your skin, and you shivered. “I just meant...” You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts. “I just thought that you... I—“

Brian hummed, urging you to continue.

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“No, keep going,” Brian said, his voice warm with amusement. “I want to hear it.”

You opened your eyes and scowled at him. “Don’t be an arsehole.”

Brian chuckled, and his hand moved downwards, coming to rest on the skin just above your belt. Before you could ask why he’d stopped, his other hand began tracing up your leg. “What were you saying?” he asked.

“I can’t even remember,” you said. “It didn’t matter.”

Brian’s hand reached your knee, and travelled up higher. Your heart was pounding. “Try to remember for me,” Brian said softly.

“I don’t have to do what you tell me,” you said, but it came out sounding breathless.

Brian’s hand paused. “I can stop.”

“Fuck you,” you huffed, and Brian grinned.

You wracked your brain. “I...” Brian started moving his hand again, almost reaching the top of your thigh, and you wouldn’t have even been able to recite the alphabet if he’d asked. “I didn’t know... that you— I thought you only saw me—“

Brian’s hand began moving towards your inner thigh.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“Keep going,” Brian murmured.

“I thought you only saw me as a friend,” you blurted. “I never would’ve thought that you saw me as anything else.”

You automatically shifted, opening your legs, as Brian’s hand went even further. You wondered if you’d soaked through your underwear yet. You must have been getting close to it.

“You are my friend,” Brian replied simply. “And I thought the same. I thought you’d never be interested in me. But clearly, we seem to be on the same page here.” He hesitated, looking at you tentatively. “We are on the same page, aren’t we?”

“I think it’s safe to say we are,” you said weakly.

“Good,” Brian breathed. His thumb rubbed over your inner thigh now, so close to where you wanted his hands the most, and it was driving you insane.

“I could have my hands on your thighs all day,” Brian said.

“Really?” you said, genuinely surprised. You’d always been self-conscious about your thighs. You liked to pretend that they didn’t bother you, but pretending was easier than actually believing it yourself.

“Are you joking?” Brian said, his eyes wide. “God, I—“ His hand gripped your thigh. “Yes. Sorry, is that—“

“Don’t apologise,” you cut in, shaking your head. “That’s... so hot.”

“I’ve literally dreamt about your thighs,” he said. “Every time you wear shorts, or a skirt, or even those tight jeans you have, I can’t tear my eyes away from them. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed me staring. All the others have.”

“I never noticed,” you said. “I never knew.”

“Well, now you know,” Brian said. “And now that I know you want me like I want you, I will be eating you out until you’ve come so many times that you’re begging me to stop. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Bold of you to assume that I’d ever want you to stop,” you said, surprising yourself.

Brian laughed. His eyes stayed on your face, watching you carefully, and his hand went to your belt. The sound of it being unbuckled was almost deafening in the quiet of the house, and you bit down on your bottom lip. Brian undid the button, and then you helped with the fly.

His hand dipped into your shorts, and when you felt his fingers press against your damp underwear, your breath stopped.

Brian’s jaw went slack. “Jesus,” he whispered,

“That’s entirely your fault, you know,” you said.

“God.” Brian breathed out sharply, gazing at you in awe and lust and disbelief, and then slipped his hand into your underwear.

You let out a soft moan, your legs falling open even further. One of your hands gripped Brian’s bicep, the other his shirt, as Brian’s fingers, the same fingers you’d been fixated on for months, began to move through your folds, circling around your clit.

“Tell me if I’m doing a good job, yeah?” Brian said.

You nodded, unable to speak, too focused on the feeling of his hand and the warmth spreading throughout your body.

You were a mess within minutes, panting and whimpering, and Brian hadn’t even slid his fingers inside you yet. “Get in me,” you demanded.

“What?”

“Get your fingers inside me, fucking hell, fuck me with your fucking fingers.”

Brian laughed. “I just wanted to make sure you were wet enough before I—“

“I was wet enough before you even touched me, Brian. It’s just rude n— oh my God.”

He’d pushed two fingers inside you at once, and it felt so good it was like a punch to the chest. Your grip on his bicep was vice-like, and you could feel the muscles moving under his skin.

If you’d thought Brian was skilled with his hand before, it was nothing in comparison to now. You were quickly climbing, your eyes closed, panting out yes and right there and letting out choked moans and whimpers.

“I’m— I’m close,” you said.

“You look so good like this,” Brian said, and crooked his fingers inside you, making you cry out. “I can’t wait to fuck you. You’re going to feel so incredible around me.”

You moaned. “Yes.”

“Are you close?”

You nodded. “S—so close.”

Brian quickened his movements further, and you sucked in a breath. You could feel your orgasm building like a wave, and you knew you only had seconds left—

The buzzer rang out, loud and obnoxious, and you and Brian jumped in surprise.

You groaned. “What the fuck?” you cried.

“The food,” Brian said, followed by a frustrated click of his tongue.

The buzzer blared again, and Brian pursed his lips, looking beyond irritated. “Great fucking timing,” he muttered.

“You’re telling me.” You pressed your forehead into his shoulder, breathing hard. Your whole body seemed to twitch, searching for the release that never came, and you instinctively clenched your thighs around Brian’s hand, moaning.

Brian hissed. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he said.

The buzzer blared once more, and Brian sighed, and retracted his hand.

“Fuck!” you whined, frustrated. “Can’t it wait?”

“It’s not really fair to make the delivery person wait there while I get you off,” Brian said. He nudged you. “Come on. Up.”

You growled, but climbed off his lap, and he hurried to the PA system. “Be down in a second, so sorry,” he said into it. He grabbed a tissue and wiped his hand, then snatched his keys from the table by the door, and disappeared out the flat.

You huffed. Your shorts were still undone, belt hanging loose, and you could think of nothing else but of your need to orgasm. Food? You didn’t need food. You weren’t even hungry. The delivery person could go fuck themselves. The buzzer could go fuck itself, too. The restaurant where the food had come from could go fuck itself. Everyone and everything could go fuck themselves; except Brian, who could fuck you instead.

You dragged your hands down your face, squeezing your thighs together again. God, Brian was good. You knew he would be.

You shivered, and went to grab two beers from the fridge. It was uncomfortable, being as wet as you were, having to walk around like you weren’t.

It felt like an eternity before Brian returned, Thai in hand. The smell of it made your stomach rumble. Maybe food wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Hungry?” Brian said, dumping the plastic bag on the table.

“Yeah, actually,” you said. You popped open the beers, and brought one over to him. “You?”

He took the bottle from you, his eyes snaking down your body and back up again. “Yeah,” he said casually.

You throbbed between your legs. “Did they give us cutlery this time?” you said, peeking inside the bag. “No, they didn’t. They always forget.” You went to the kitchen to grab some forks.

When you returned, Brian was at the table, sipping his beer. He ogled your thighs openly as you walked back to the table, and you smiled to yourself.

You sat down, and both of you began eating. There wasn’t much conversation at first, but it didn’t take long for it to start flowing. It was just the same as always, but now you didn’t have to hold back the flirty comments and heated glances, and it thrilled you to no end that Brian seemed to feel the same way. You both ate fairly quickly, and when you were done, Brian hurried to clean up.

When he was in the kitchen, you realised you’d both left your unfinished mugs of tea on the coffee table, so you took them, and the biscuits, to the kitchen.

Brian took the mugs, and dumped them in the sink, not even rinsing them out, and then took the packet of biscuits from you, discarding it on the kitchen counter.

You frowned. “What—“

Brian kissed you, and it was like a dam broke within you. You kissed him back furiously, hungrily, and Brian responded in kind, his hands squeezing your arse, pulling you flush against him. He bit at your bottom lip, and you pushed your body even closer to his.

He gripped your hips, and started backing you up until you bumped into the kitchen counter. He leant down to grip the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, but he pulled back. “Shorts off,” he said.

“Here?” you said, but you nudged him back and slid off the counter to strip off your shorts and underwear.

“Just one thing,” Brian said. “Just to make up for earlier. Get back up on the counter.”

“I can’t,” you said. “That’s... not sanitary.”

“We’ll clean it later.” Brian said, almost frantically. “I promise.”

You thought about it, and then sat back up on the counter. “This feels wrong.”

Brian dropped to his knees and grabbed your hips, shunting you forward, almost off the counter entirely, and you yelped, putting a hand on his shoulder to balance yourself.

“Lie back a bit,” Brian said. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

You gaped. “You’re joking. Like this?”

“I’m really not.” Brian pressed a kiss to your knee. “We don’t have to, but I’d really like to, if you’re all right with it.”

You swallowed, and swung your legs over his shoulders, leaning back, propping yourself up on the heels of your hand.

Brian moved in closer, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Thank you,” he said, and he sounded genuinely grateful.

He pressed more kisses to the soft skin of your inner thighs, and you could already feel your chest heaving with anticipation. One of your hands wound itself in his hair, and you let your head fall back and your eyes slide closed, revelling in the feeling.

When Brian’s mouth finally reached its goal, you gasped, and Brian moaned.

“Oh, fuck, Bri,” you sighed. You tilted your hips, giving him a better angle. He gripped your hips so tightly it felt like you would have bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and when he flicked his tongue in just the right way, you knew that if he kept this up, you wouldn’t last long at all.

He removed one hand from your hip to slide his fingers inside you, pumping them rhythmically as his tongue worked its magic. Your fist tightened in his hair. “Yeah, like that,” you panted. “So good.”

Brian hummed, and you made a noise at the extra stimulation. “Bri, please,” you begged, although you had no idea what for. “Please.”

Brian doubled his efforts, and you whined. You were growing close again, and Brian’s mouth and hand were so perfect, and you had a moment internally of, holy shit, Bri’s actually eating me out, this is real, I’m not imagining this, before you tumbled over the edge with a cry.

Brian coaxed you through it, and you relaxed the grip on his hair, gasping for breath. You soon had to nudge Brian away, overstimulated. Brian kissed your thigh again, a wet, sloppy kiss that made you smile and laugh breathlessly, and then he was wiping his face on the back of his hand and getting to his feet, pulling you in for a kiss. You hummed happily onto the kiss, and reached down to rub at the bulge in his jeans. He bucked forward into your hand with a moan.

You pulled back, looking Brian in the eye. “Fuck me,” you said.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” Brian said, and surged forward, kissing you deeply, running his hands over your thighs. He ducked his head to kiss your neck, biting down every so often, and electricity shot through you every time he did.

He found your pulse point and bit down, harder this time, and your grip on him tightened.

“Did that hurt?” he mumbled against your neck. “Too much?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said. “Never too much.”

Brian began sucking on the same point, and you began blindly fiddling with his jeans, unbuttoning them and inching the fly down.

Brian only stopped his work on your neck when you shoved your hand down his boxers and took hold of him, stroking up his length with a curious touch.

His hips jerked forward again, and he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his moan.

“I fucking knew it,” you said.

Brian peppered kisses along your jaw. “Knew what?”

“That you had a big dick.”

Brian laughed. “You had your suspicions, did you?”

“I can see it no matter what you wear,” you said. You pulled back, and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice me staring.”

“I guess we’re both unobservant,” Brian said wryly. He stepped back, and held out his hand. “Come on.”

You hopped off the counter and took his hand, and you both hurried to his and John’s bedroom. As soon as you’d reached it, Brian just about slammed you against the wall and kissed you fiercely. You gave as good as you got, and in no time at all clothes were being torn off and thrown to the ground, and Brian’s cock was in your hand, and he was biting at your lips and neck and kissing you with a passion that made you weak in the knees.

“Bed,” you said, and Brian spun you around, backing you up until your legs hit the bed.

You put a hand to his chest, pushing gently, and Brian stepped back. “What?” he said. His lips were red and swollen, his cheeks flushed, and some of his wild curls hung in his face. He looked fucking gorgeous.

“Protection,” you said, and Brian huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, obviously,” he said, and went to his bedside drawer. He rummaged around for a while, and you crawled onto the bed, sitting cross-legged, enjoying the view.

“Shit,” he muttered, tossing a bottle of lube onto the bed. “Just a moment.”

“Where are you going?” you called after him as he left the room.

“Rog and Freddie’s room,” he called back. He returned seconds later, condoms in hand. “They always have way more than they need. They say they need all of them, but they’re just being arrogant. As usual.” He dropped them on the bed — the sight of them made your stomach bubble.

Brian met you on the bed, kissing you, lowering you down onto your back, and he began trailing his kisses down your body, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and you hissed. “Oh, God, that feels good,” you groaned, and Brian moved his attention to your other nipple, making you shiver.

Soon, though, he continued his journey down, nipping at your hip bone as he went. He climbed off the bed, then, standing at the foot of it, and took hold of your ankles, dragging you down the bed so forcefully that you yelped. “Jesus Christ, stop manhandling me,” you said as Brian knelt on the floor between your legs.

“Does it really bother you?” he said.

“No,” you admitted. “It’s hot. But it’s the principle of the thing.”

Brian chuckled. “Sorry. I’ll be a gentleman next time I throw you around.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Brian sat back to grab your knees and pull you forward a touch more, and said, “Please excuse me, ma’am.”

You giggled. “Fucking dick.”

Brian laughed, and dropped kisses onto your thighs. He tapped your knee with his hand, and you took it as a cue to swing your legs over his shoulders.

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to—“

“What did I say?” Brian said, kissing your thigh again. “I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging me to stop.”

“I thought it was just a figure of speech,” you said with a chuckle.

“Nope,” was all Brian said, and you laughed again. His tongue pushed into your folds, and you closed your eyes, completely giving over, letting Brian take care of you.

It felt like no time at all before you were climbing to a climax, and you were panting and moaning and whimpering Brian’s name, and then you were coming, feeling it pulse through you, your head thrown back, your blood roaring in your ears.

When you came to, Brian was kissing your thighs again, with such reverence that you almost felt self-conscious.

“How was that?” he murmured.

“All right,” you said with a shrug, and Brian laughed.

“Ouch,” he said, and you could feel his grin against your skin.

You sat up, propping yourself up on the heels of your hands, and Brian looked up at you. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said. Although you wouldn’t admit it, you just wanted to see him between your legs. You’d imagined it so many times, it was almost hard to believe that this time, it was real.

Brian locked eyes with you, keeping your focus, and began sucking a hickey into your inner thigh. You bit your bottom lip, almost wincing at the pain of it, but as if you’d stop him.

Every so often he’d pause and briefly inspect his work, deciding whether he’d done enough, before getting back to it. When he was done, your whole thigh felt like it was burning, but the reddish purple mark that Brian left behind was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen.

“I guess I won’t be wearing shorts for a while,” you said.

Brian looked distraught. “For the love of God, please wear shorts. Please. I’m fucking begging you.” He surged forward, kissing you, pausing every few seconds to speak. “Seeing you — in shorts — with that on — your thigh — knowing I put it there — will be...” He broke away, kissing under your jaw, moaning softly, his hands on your thighs. “I won’t be able to handle it,” he whispered. “In the best way. It will blow my fucking mind.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you breathed. You’d already come twice, but you felt so turned on that you couldn’t even try to banter with him. “Okay.”

Brian kissed you, and your hands ran down his chest. “Fuck me,” you said, moving your lips to his collarbones. “Can you fuck me now?”

“Yeah?” Brian said.

You nodded, kissing his chest. “Yeah.”

Brian climbed onto the bed, and you followed him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. Your kisses grew frantic and greedy, Brian flipped you over, dotting your chest with bites as he pushed his fingers into you, stretching you out. You moaned, spreading your legs as far as they would go. He eased a third finger into you, and you breathed through the ache.

“All right?” he said, checking in.

“All right,” you said with a nod. “It’s been a while.”

Brian hummed, pressing a kiss to the hollow of your throat. “We’ll go as slow as you need.”

“I’m too impatient,” you huffed, and Brian smiled, and pushed his fingers in further, making you yelp. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” you blurted, when Brian froze. “You just surprised me.”

Brian kissed your lips lightly, fucking you with his fingers slow and deep.

“Slow as you need,” he said again. “I want this to be good for you.”

“It’s you,” you said, your voice hard to counter how sappy the words were. You rolled your hips up into his hand. “Of course it’ll be good.”

Brian replied with another kiss.

He kept up the rhythm until you were squirming and even more needy than before, begging him for more.

You pushed Brian’s hand away, out of you, and flipped him over just as he’d done to you, wrapping a hand around his flushed and swollen cock and pulling him off with a featherlight touch. Brian laughed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Oh, you’re cruel,” he said, followed by a choked moan, bucking his hips up into your hand.

“Oh, I’m cruel?” you said, softening your touch even further. Brian whined. “Who’s been finger-fucking me for hours without making me come?”

“You’ve already come twice,” Brian gasped. “And it wasn’t hours, don’t be dramatic.” He sobbed, one hand gripping the sheets. “Oh, fuck.”

You leant down and slid the head of his cock into your mouth, and he cried out, “Ah, shit! Fuck.”

You sucked him off, tasting the salty pre-come on your tongue, your hand making up for where your mouth couldn’t reach. Brian’s hands moved to your hair, and he grunted as you swirled your tongue around his head.

You could’ve sucked his dick all night, but soon he was tugging on your hair, telling you to stop, the words rushing out of his mouth urgently, and you pulled off with a wet pop. “Yeah?” you asked, still jerking him off with your hand.

“Shit— stop,” Brian said, sitting up sharply and grabbing your wrist, stopping your movement. “I’m too close to coming for you to do that.”

You hummed, grinning, pleased. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” Brian huffed. He guided your hand, still holding your wrist, to his lips, where he pressed a surprisingly tender kiss to your fingertips. “I want to be inside you when I come, all right?”

Something twisted in your stomach at that, something bizarrely affectionate, at the way he’d said it, almost gently, in a way that was so very Brian. You let your fingers brush over his lips, and he smiled, an adorable, warm, happy smile, that shouldn’t have fit the hot, horny, sweaty situation at all, but somehow was beautifully perfect. You smiled back, but you pushed the feelings aside. God forbid things get too mushy and cute. You were expecting to be completely fucked into next week, after all.

You took your hand back and searched for the condoms, snatching one off the bed and ripping open the foil packet. Brian sat up, watching your face with keen eyes as you rolled it onto him, and as soon as you were done he grabbed you, throwing you onto your back and kissing you. You responded enthusiastically, hooking your heels over his hips, and then he was lining himself up and pushing into you.

Your breath caught, and you pressed your forehead into his neck, grunting.

“You all right?” Brian said, his hand stroking soothingly down your side.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just... Yeah, I’m fine. Go. Keep going.”

Brian did, and you let your head drop back onto the pillow, pressing your lips together. It was an ache you were familiar with, but one you hadn’t felt in a good while now, and Brian was definitely on the larger end of the dick spectrum.

Brian nuzzled under your jaw as he pushed in further, and then he was fully seated. You ran your nails lightly up and down his back, wordlessly telling him that you were okay.

“Oh my God, you feel amazing,” Brian moaned. He lifted his head, searching your face, concern creasing his brow. “Are you— Is it all right?”

You laughed. “You’re not going to break me, Bri.”

“But is it... Do you want this? Are you sure?”

You pulled him down for a kiss. “Yes, I’m fucking sure,” you said. You rolled your hips, and Brian squeezed his eyes shut, failing to suppress a moan. “Now fuck me already.”

So Brian did, pulling out and ramming back into you. He began to set up a rhythm, and you wrapped yourself around him, your nails now claws on his back, and he was gasping out your name, telling you how amazing you felt, how much he’d wanted this, and all you could do was say his name in return. You rolled both of you over, settling back onto him, and he gripped your hips, thrusting up into you. You held him still, and slowly rocked your hips. His eyes just about rolled into the back of his head, and it was the biggest ego boost you’d ever had.

“How do my thighs look right now, Bri?” you teased, rocking your hips again.

Brian smoothed his hands down them. “Like they belong to a goddess,” he panted, his hips bucking up against yours. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You groaned, rocking forward, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone. “Fuck.”

Brian laughed, and you looked to him quizzically. “What?”

“It’s just...” He laughed again, rubbing the back of one hand across the bridge of his nose. “It just suddenly hit me that we’re having sex right now.”

You blinked at him, registering his words, and then burst into laughter. “What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing?”

“No, I mean—“ Brian snorted, and he looked so pretty like this that you didn’t even think about leaning forward and tracing your fingers across his cheekbones and jaw. “I mean, I’ve been... wanting this, wanting you, for so long, and I thought I’d never have you. Like, ever. I’d just about resigned myself to just being quietly miserable whenever we hung out together, because I never thought that you’d ever go for me, of all people.” Your fingers moved to his lips, just resting over them, feeling them move as he spoke. “It just finally sunk in that this is really happening.”

“You’re a bit of a sap, aren’t you?” you joked.

Brian shrugged, glancing away. “Well, I just—“

“No, I was just being an arse,” you said with a smile. You pressed against his lips with more force, and he opened his mouth for you, playfully biting down on your fingers. Your smile stretched into a grin. “I feel the same.”

Brian’s lips closed over your fingers, and his tongue pushed between them, swirling around them. You were transfixed by it, feeling the way his tongue moved, and you began rocking your hips, just little movements. Curious, you pushed your fingers further into his mouth, down to the knuckles, and Brian moaned, his eyes sliding closed, taking them.

“Fuck,” you whispered, taking a shaky breath. You rocked with a little more force, and Brian moaned again, rolling his hips up to meet you. You pulled your fingers from his mouth, slowly, feeling his teeth scrape against your skin, and you said weakly, “You’re really good at that.”

Brian didn’t respond, flipping you over again and, before you barely even had time to register what had happened, he was fucking you hard into the mattress, slow and deep. You clutched onto him, overwhelmed by how good it felt, begging him to keep going, to fuck you harder, to come for you. You coasted on the edge of coming, the sweet spot of feeling both heady with arousal and unable to orgasm, and you clenched around Brian, making him curse and ram into you. He paused only momentarily to kiss you, and you smoothed his sweat-dampened curls from his face, and then he was fucking you again, chasing his release, and you wanted nothing more than to see his face when he came, to hear the sounds he would make. You bit into his shoulder, and his movements grew erratic, so you bit into his neck, then his shoulder again, and he moaned your name as he came. You pulled back and kissed him, smoothing back his hair again, and he ducked his head, kissing your neck. You shuddered, your body begging for more, and then Brian was answering what you’d never asked for, his fingers circling your clit, his lips pressing kisses down your neck, murmuring encouragements into your skin. You whined, feeling so sensitive but so desperate at the same time, and it didn’t take long for you to come, warmth washing over you.

Only then did Brian pull out of you and flop onto his back, beside you, and you both took a moment to breathe. You turned your head to look at him, and he turned his head to look at you, and you were both panting, beaming. You chuckled. “So that happened.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah. Wow. It really did.”

“And?” you said. “Did it live up to the hype?”

Brian shook his head, rolling his eyes at your phrasing. “Yes,” he said simply. “Exceeded it.”

“I’d have to say the same,” you said. You rolled onto your side, smoothing a hand over his stomach. “If I’m being honest.”

Brian’s hand moved to rest on top of yours. “Well, honesty is all I could ask for.”

You snuggled up closer to him, kissing his shoulder.

There was another moment of silence, and then Brian was getting to his feet with a groan, discarding the condom in the bin.

You sighed. “I’m exhausted now.”

“Yeah?” Brian said, looking unimpressed. “You’re exhausted?”

You played along, nodding. “Oh, yeah. I came three times tonight, you know.”

Brian crawled over you. “You did, did you?” He dropped a kiss to your lips. “And who made you come, hm?”

“No one important,” you said airily, and Brian nipped at your lips.

“You’re insufferable,” he said, kissing you again.

You hummed against his mouth in agreement, nodding, and you could feel him smile.

He broke away. “If you give me five minutes to catch my breath, I could arrange for you to come a few more times, if you’re interested,” he said.

You looked at him bewilderedly. “You’re not serious?”

He shrugged. “I’m serious if you want me to be.”

You considered it. “All right. Since we’re clearly going all-in here, I’ll take you up on the offer. If — I get to suck your dick tonight. I’m talking serious dick-sucking. Your brain is gonna melt out of your ears.”

Brian grinned. “Sounds good to me.” He sat back. “Are you thirsty? I’ll get us some water.”

“Yeah, all right,” you said. Brian climbed off the bed, pulled on his boxers, and disappeared around the corner.

You stared at the ceiling, taking the opportunity to figure out your thoughts. You and Brian had just slept together. You and Brian. The same Brian you’d been pining over for months. Your friend, your study buddy, your crush.

Tonight had been amazing. And it was going to continue to be amazing, until you were both just about dead from exhaustion, by the sounds of it.

But was tonight where it ended? Were you just an outlet for Brian? He’d said he’d wanted you for a long time, but were you just someone he thought was hot, and just wanted to bang? What was the next step? Was there going to be a next step? Should you expect one, or was that too much?

Brian returned with the waters, and you sat up. “Thanks,” you said as he handed you one, and you took a sip.

Brian had already drank half of his, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. You focused on your water.

After a minute or so of silence, Brian said, “Are you secretly freaking out about this as much as I am?”

You gulped down your mouthful. “A bit,” you admitted. “Why are you freaking out? You don’t... You’re not regretting it, are you?”

“No,” Brian said quickly. “God, no. Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”

You frowned. “The opposite?”

“I...” Brian hesitated. “Please don’t freak out.”

“I’m already freaking out,” you said, freaking out even more. What was he going to say? Was he going to kick you out and stop being friends with you?

“Well, uh, please don’t freak out directly in response to what I’m going to say.”

“No promises.”

Brian took a swig of water, looking like he wished it was something stronger. “I... I like you,” he said, avoiding your gaze. “More than a friend. I fancy you, really. I have for a while. But I understand if that’s not what you’re after, and I’m sorry for just being — presumptuous, I suppose. I should’ve clarified it earlier, and of course, if that’s not what you’re after, then tonight can just be a one-off, and we can forget about it, or we can laugh about it later, or whatever.”

“I like you too,” you said, and Brian’s head snapped up, and he looked so hopeful and happy that you just about died.

“You do?”

You nodded, unable to keep the grin off your face. “Yeah. Yeah, I like you.”

Brian leant forward and kissed you, almost sloshing water all over the sheets. He pulled back, gazing at you adoringly, and your heart just about stopped in your chest. You laced your fingers together, and pressed your lips to the back of his hand. It felt right, holding his hand. Like there’d been a missing puzzle piece in your life, and you’d finally found it and slotted it into place.

He set his water down on the bedside table, and then took your glass from you, putting it down beside his. “I really do hope that none of the others plan on coming home tonight,” he said, squeezing your hand. “I have a lot planned for you.”

“We’ve got time,” you said, and you couldn’t believe that it was true. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“I know,” Brian said with a shrug and a cheeky smile. “But we’ve got time now, too, don’t we?”

He tugged you over for a kiss, and you threw your arms around his neck. You knew that the boys would immediately clock what had happened when they saw you still at their place tomorrow, and the hickeys dotting your body, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter. You had Brian, and his beautiful hands and gorgeous face and wonderful dick. It was all yours now. And you weren’t ever letting it go.

#wow this was a THROWBACK to read through and edit again!#forgot how much i liked this one #mine #brian may x reader #queen fanfiction #rpf #smut

481 notes · View notes

phoenixtakaramono · 4 years

Text

Finders Keepers

Ch6 Preview: _cynosure

“Hey, hey!” Jack demanded. Coffee nearly splashed out of the mug when he slammed it down on the aluminum surface of the folding table which’d served as his workstation, the mug nearly avoiding his pocketwatch. “How come it’s front and center—next to me?”

The sigh that answered Jack through the comm sounded weary. And it hadn’t been the first, nor the last, time it’d been heard.

The days after the assassination attempt had passed by like a whirlwind. Each time Jack rose with the morning sun, he’d woken up to a hunger gnawing within him. It was a bloodthirst that demanded to be satiated and an all-consuming compulsion to piece together the new puzzle set in front of him. Security had been tightened. Rhys and the loaders had been seen following him doggedly. Even past acquaintances Jack had met intergalactically had actually commed or ECHOed him.

While he basked in the sudden attention, the cynical part of him understood that the demonstrations were ultimately superficial and self-serving. He’d find memos around the Hyperion offices of Opportunity advising him to take insurance against further security risks, and he’d crumble the paper into tight, little balls. Robots that were sent as human proxies ended up being riddled with bullet holes once Jack got tired of their constant nagging.

It was just unfortunate that there had been no survivors to interrogate. Everyone who’d been in that room had been either too skilled or lucky, shooting down the terrorists. Even so, it’d been interesting when he had the bloody corpses examined. They might have been disguised in Hyperion yellow, but he’d thought the make and model of their combat gear resembled the disgraced Crimson Lance soldiers and assassins. That theory only fell to the wayside when the coroner showed him the mess of organic tissues and inorganic parts soldered together in an amalgamation of bioware that made up their anatomies.

To Jack’s recollection, he didn’t remember any surviving Lance units being anything but human. Cybernetics was controversial across the galaxy, with few brave enough to undergo the augmentations. All sorts of laws and restrictions existed to restrict the installation and use of it. Few were willing to amputate their limbs or have cyberware technology implanted into their muscle and nervous system—even with sensory performance improvements and advantages. The only exception to that he could think of was his enforcer, Wilhelm, who wanted to be more cyborg than man.

All and all, the failed assassination attempt had been spun into publicity story—of how it was only due to the presence of the great and mighty hero who had saved his cohorts. Handsome Jack was the hero who overcame all odds to fight for his people. Terrorism was no match for their hero.

Maintaining such notoriety, however, wasn’t without its downsides. He’d been met with begrudging respect and disdain as he spun his web to ensnare the wealthy or the influential and to keep them from taking the next shuttle out. He’d even contributed his own credits—Hyperion’s finances—to the emergency relief funds generated to aid any victims and to rebuild the corporate offices. Of the brave cynics who’d questioned how truly safe their developing utopia could be if such an attack occurred on their soil, Jack made sure to silence and have examples be made out of them, whether it have been through arrests, blackmail, bribery, hefty fines, or even their deaths. The rallying cry of his supporters, with the underbelly of Hyperion propaganda blaring constantly and the societal pressure of its loyal citizens and classism, served to help drown out the majority of his dissenters. It was clear to most that the Hyperion CEO was running Opportunity as a modern totalitarian dictatorship, but Jack thrived in the knowledge of his absolute authority—a far cry from his past. This city would be his magnum opus—one of his three surviving legacies.

While Jack was happy to have things back to a semblance of normalcy since the incident, he was helpless to resist the lure of the stars. Being back on land was appreciated, but it never felt real to Jack. His trips seldomly lasted long; relearning to walk again in the force of the planet’s gravity, regaining his balance and getting his motion sickness under control—they were all great initial adjustments to his routine that he disliked undergoing regardless of whichever homeworld he was visiting. Catching up on current events, pop culture, and life in the time he’d been away made him feel like he was an alien—surreal as it was. Days could have him questioning his sanity: if he could’ve been the only one on this godforsaken, crummy planet with the self-awareness that they could be living in a simulation and everyone around him had been replaced by robots. Those startling moments of sobriety felt like being doused headfirst in cold water, popping up in the most inconvenient of times such as board meetings or over his favorite mealtime, instantly souring his mood.

Those were the times he got trigger-happy. It was a clear indication, when even the return of his taste buds couldn’t keep him satiated any longer, that a trip to the docking bay was long overdue.

He’d even find himself taking comfort in the company of actual machines than with his fellow humans. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was back in that world of the transcendently magical and deeply prosaic, with its familiar smell of outer space—vaguely resembling rusted metal—cocooning him. Space was a symbol of liberation from earthly concerns, from petty squabbles and from flapping lips. Pandora was full of bandits and the impoverished, all of whom loathed him just as much as he despised them. The uneducated words that came out of their mouths made him want to bash his head against the wall. The closest sanctuary he could make on this planet that was similar to the floating moonbase Helios, where the wealthy gathered and ambition reigned strong, was Opportunity.

The narrow pale features of his Vice President, Jeffery Blake, was peering back at him through the floating projection. A healthy dose of caution had always tempered the businessman’s mannerisms—an epitome of professionalism—but even he seemed visibly aghast by Jack’s disapproval in this conference call. “Sir…,” Jeffery said slowly, “as I’ve said, we’ve run it by our focus groups. This one was especially well-received—”

So even you’re walking on eggshells? That was the thought that flitted across Jack’s mind.

Jack groaned, slapping his hands on the table. “Pal, you’re not listening to me!” He jabbed his finger at the projection, making it fizzle slightly before Blake’s face reformed over his index finger. He exclaimed, “Look. What do you see? Why am I being overshadowed by my own tinman?”

Like every other propaganda poster displayed at the Living Legend Plaza, on billboards, and even back at Helios, Jack had a team of artists who knew the emphasis of every design was to memorialize the Hyperion CEO in the moment of a heroic exploit. Whether the stories were true or not, no one dared to question the legitimacy—especially not after the examples Jack had made out of his doubters in the past.

Sensing the eyes on him, he finally deigned to glance over his shoulder. The plastic covering of the seat squeaked under him in his readjustment.

If looks could kill, then Jack would be buried twelve feet under with the glower Rhys had been directing at him for the last few hours. Plugged into the charging port, Rhys was currently sitting motionlessly in the back with its arms crossed, strapped into place as all of Jack’s other knickknacks to avoid having his belongings float around. The brown synthetic hair was in disarray, still windswept from the small pandemonium Jack’s arrival had caused at the private spaceport on Pandora. While Jack wouldn’t say what the android had exhibited at the spaceport had been signs of anxiety, it certainly hadn’t seemed pleased with the amount of camera flashes and the throng of bodies that had crowded around them since their arrival. It especially hadn’t liked being ordered out on an errand to retrieve a case of imported alien cigars for Jack and his new buddies to smoke in the first class space lounge.

To Jack, Rhys was becoming more and more capable day by day—even if it did exhibit a lingering attitude problem sometimes, coded into its systems. Despite the personality package of the android’s mysterious predecessor that he had Rhys install into its own noggin, Atlas’ resentment of him seemed to have endured despite the megacorporation having long since been disbanded.

“No, sir, it is merely sharing the spotlight—with you. Everyone knows that you are the hero. After all, how could they not? A mere machine standing next to the rakish, devilish Handsome Jack? You’re the protector; not that robot.”

Jack grunted, removing his gaze from his android.

One thing Jack did like about that stoic man, besides being a damn good salesman, was that the man somehow knew what to say—or what not to say—to get the best results. He somehow intuitively knew how to transverse the landmine that was Handsome Jack, offering fawning words and publicly putting on a show of respecting the Hyperion CEO. Even now Jack could sense the calculating air behind that crafty expression of his.

“It’s unfathomable that you’d be in any way overshadowed anyhow.” There was an evenness to that deep, calm cadence which soothed wounded pride. The man didn’t even give the impression that he knew he was walking on tightrope. With a slight smile, Blake continued, “We are selling an image to the people of Opportunity. What planets need is heroes of today. A fresh face doesn’t hurt your image; in fact, it strengthens it. Besides, the added benefit is that now everyone knows Rhys belongs to you, sir.”

The more Jack listened to his parasitic compliments, to the words drifting into his ears like silk, he could feel a taut smile beginning to split his mask from ear to ear. He’d wanted to reach through that projection and smash Blake’s face into the table. Even though he knew he was being manipulated with honeyed words, Blake’s logic and attempt to appeal to his ego did make Jack subside a bit.

The recliner creaked as Jack sank back into his seat, his arms folded over his chest. His scowl remained on the metallic gold constellations on the blue ceramic mug, with its Dads Need Space Too seemingly mocking him. He could see his own mask reflected upside-down in the black coffee, the rehydrated beverage still full to the brim. No matter how many years had passed, no matter the innovations and technological advancements, the cheap, universally standard freeze-dried coffee still sucked in comparison against the freshly brewed cups that could only be acquired planet-side or at select space stations. Grumbling under his breath, he flicked the plastic straw, sending it careening to the other side.

Safety was priority. Similar to the dehydrated meals of somewhat liquid consistency and the soluble drinks that the Hyperion dietitians had vacuum-sealed into the standard-issued pouches for his flight, the lighter items that Jack had brought had velcro in the back to adhere them to the walls. He didn’t have to look to see his storage locker was full of Pandoran snacks and souvenirs.

By the time that the call with Blake ended, he was pinching the bridge of his nose, exhaling through the mouth of his mask. His foot was tapping a jittery tune against the floor, clattering loudly in the hollow shuttle as the hologram displayed comms he’d made that had gone unanswered.

In the silence that followed the absence of voice, the whirr of machinery permeated the enclosed space, along with the crackle of the comm system as the shuttle cruised among the stars. It was times like these that punctuated how infinitesimal they were in the vast emptiness that consumed them.

The shuttle they were flying in was privately owned by Handsome Jack himself, estimated to be between the cost of the massive space station that was Helios and the cost of at least a quarter of the emergency escape pods that lined that station. Designers and engineers alike, in the dawn of Hyperion’s startup, had tried their best to include enough terrestrial comforts to inspire even the weariest of souls to want to stare into the void that was outer space. Given the weight restrictions and limited space on any interplanetary vehicles, designs had to be lightweight and flexible, serving multiple purposes in low-gravity. But unlike those compact spherical pods, an optional artificial gravitational field had been installed inside the computer modules and ventilation systems—which’d meant squishy human CEOs like Jack didn’t need to tether or strap themselves down to something in order to avoid floating under zero-gravity conditions. It hummed in the background, a constant companion and white noise.

Jack could hear the crack of bones shifting as he flexed stiff fingers. It was a painful sort of awareness; his joints ached and he could get tired so much faster. However much he liked to joke that he was born for the stars, reaching for once unreachable heights, traveling in space reminded him of how he wasn’t as young and sprightly anymore. He’d gotten used to it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

It was also only in a private moment like this that he could admit to himself, that as much as he loved hogging the spotlight, isolation could sometimes be a blessing in disguise for him. Yet despite the serenity, Jack’s foot was still restless.

“Shit….” Jack knew himself very well. His eyes shot to the monitor, fixating on the photo hovering on the side. His eyes traced the face of a dusky-skinned woman with piercing eyes and the curve of that sable dark hair which curled up entrancingly against sharp cheekbones. It was one of the few photos he’d captured where she hadn’t been wearing her smirk like her prized cowboy hat, like an accessory. After several more minutes, he declared, “Fuck it.”

And he jabbed his thumb on her name.

The familiar beep, beep, beep of the outgoing call rang hollow in his ears. His thoughts were brewing into a black storm, cresting in the restless energy that threatened to spill over as he laced his fingers tightly under the metal clasp over his chin. “C’mon. Pick up. Pick up.”

Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep. Click. “Howdy there; Lawbringer and Sheriff of Lynchwood here.” A strong voice bled into his ears like smoke, making his nails dig grooves into his knuckles. “Nisha if I know you; Ms. Kadam if you’ve got nasty business with me. Only leave a message if you’ve got something important to say—”

Crack. The table clattered under the fist that slammed down onto it. “Shit,” he said, bowing his head. “Nisha.” His features contorted. Anguish coated his voice. “Why are you ignoring me now? I just...fuck, I just want to talk….”

His hand was throbbing in pain. His resentment flagging, he lifted his fist to inspect why he felt a little wetness. And another curse slipped out once he saw what it was that he’d hit. It was his pocketwatch.

He snatched it, bringing it up closer to eye level. The metal prongs which’d protected the dome couldn’t withstand the impact, the glass having splintered into pieces. The once phosphorus blue glow in the center, which contained his bio-data, granting him full security clearance, had dimmed into black. The DNA inside was contaminated; there was no way he could salvage this.

A voice drifted into his awareness. “...Jack?”

Jack could merely stare down at his broken watch in silence. He felt like a disembodied spectator that couldn’t speak; he could only listen. It was as if his brain was suffering a massive short circuit and struggled to compute. Plip plip plip plip. The liquid seeped between the cracks of his fingers.

Click. Jack heard a strap being unfastened. Footsteps soon clanged on the floor, advancing toward him. He felt a deft touch on his shoulder. “Oh, your watch….” It was phrased as a casual observation, non-judgemental and nonchalant. “Yikes. Give that here. Lemme see.” A pale hand reached down and Jack watched long fingers close over the broken watch.

It was only instinctual; as Rhys’ arm retreated, Jack’s head followed the movement like a gravitational pull, stopping only when he caught sight of the frown on the android’s features as it saw Nisha’s image on the screen. Heterochromatic optics darted from the projected image and refocused on his owner’s possession on his palm. As Handsome Jack’s android, it’d known the timepiece’s functions. Jack had let it analyze its properties before.

“...It may have been an accident, but I’m glad I don’t need to break out the emergency first aid kit.”

Jack nearly jerked back when Rhys reached for his hands, fearless and unafraid.

Rhys’ gaze had transferred over to him, and he watched the awkward tilt of his lips as he squeezed Jack’s fingers. In a charitable tone, he was entreated, “You don’t have to tell me what’s been on your mind, if you don’t want to. But I’d like to help you repair this. It’ll take some time, but may I?”

Staring wasn’t quite the word he’d use to describe what was going on in the moment. Jack’s eyes rested, not unblinking but slowed, locking onto the strange human gesture. Rhys held his gaze but instead of the expected icy hostility, the android almost radiated sincerity.

At a loss for words, Jack pulled his hands back, slipping free from the discomfort of the moment.

“Jack?”

He propped his right fist slowly up against his jaw, and soon the left fist joined. For a moment, he remained silent, ruminating on Rhys’ features. Up close, even he could freely admit to himself that the person Rhys had been modeled after had been somewhat photogenic. Jack wouldn’t say the man had cut a dashing figure—he certainly didn’t look like a model even in the renders, nor was he a pretty boy like the financial advisor Jack had stationed at the VIP Tower of the Handsome Jackpot casino—but Rhys was passable by most societal standards. Well defined, with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones, tall and lean. (Although his looks were maybe somewhat average in comparison against the ruggedness of Handsome Jack himself, he couldn’t fault the man for being born inadequate.)

While Jack suspected the original Rhys might’ve been prone to bouts of fretting and insecurity from how he’d sounded in the audio logs, Jack saw none of that in the confident way he’d held himself and even now being simulated by this android. In a way, Jack had seen a little bit of his past self in the man that he was learning Rhys might have been, struggling to air respectability to his peers and to be recognized.

“...Y'know,” Jack remarked, “you’re really not that bad of a guy.”

“Uhh.”

He waved his hand cavalierly in the air. “Yeah. If you think you can do me a kindness, go for it. Send it to the best watchmaker I have in my contacts.”

“Got it.”

Putting the computer on sleep mode, Nisha’s picture fizzled out as he gestured for Rhys to take a step back. With a quizzical look, it did as it was told and merely watched as Jack straightened up, wiping the liquid off on his jeans. He ignored the pinched expression it formed upon seeing the small dark stain.

He snapped his fingers twice above his thigh. “Eyes up here, tinman.”

Brown and gold optics leapt up to meet blue and green.

In feigned arrogance, Jack advanced forward toward it. The little rise in the corner of his mouth was a familiar smirk that he’d heard others lament as appearing sinister. “Stand up straighter. I wanna check something.”

“What do you—?”

“Ah!” Jack slapped his hand over its mouth, stopping it from answering. “I didn’t ask you for your opinion now, did I? Now shut up and lemme do my thing.” Without asking for permission, he swept his hand from the top of his head to Rhys’. There was a couple millimeters of empty space between his palm and that coiffed synthetic hair, a negligible difference in reality but it was enough for Jack.

It didn’t matter that he was wearing his high-heeled boots instead of his go-to sneakers. He was taller.

SUMMARY: By some miraculous twist of fate, Jack stumbles across an Atlas android hidden smack dab in Hyperion headquarters. Obviously, what is he going to do with it? Keep it for himself, of course, because as the saying goes, "Finders keepers, losers weepers." What he didn't anticipate was the clusterfuck he'd find himself in, when he discovers the valuable model he'd been hoarding has a hidden backstory. There is more than meets the eye. (It's a sort-of tie-in to the Borderlands and Tales from the Borderlands universes. This is another attempt at an AU, although I hope to pay homage to elements from canon.)

Ship: Handsome Jack & (android) Rhys Strongfork

(A/N) - Ch 1-5 of Finders Keepers can be found on AO3, written by PhoenixTakaramono. For everyone that’s still following this story after my extended hiatus, thank you very much for your patience! If you feel like you’ve read this preview before, you’re not wrong. I’ve made a few revisions, but keep in mind that this preview may or may not reflect the final edits in the final draft of ch6 which’ll be uploaded to AO3 once it’s been complete. This has admittedly been one of my more troublesome chapters to write, but finally I can see the light on the horizon.

#handsome jack #rhys strongfork #rhack #rhys the company man #borderlands #rhys tftbl #finders keepers #phoenixtakaramono #ch6 #preview #this has been the most troublesome chapter yet #which is partially why I’ve been slow #many apologies #I’ve spent far too much time #studying astronauts #to write this 1 scene

16 notes · View notes