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soaps-hoe-141 · 11 months

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Gaymers Unite

Again thank you very much for this perfectly fitting Watcher and Konig art @foreverrunningfree

So as requested by my proofreader and @czigonas the first pride month present is done, hope y'all enjoy. Also thank you @embruhh for being patient with my questions about Scots, feel free to correct me if I fucked something up

Pairing: Konig x trans!OC (Watcher: I have lore posts on my pinned masterlist)

WC: 8.7k

Synopsis: Lil bit of fluff, some tech support, most smut though, hope ya enjoy

Warnings: NSFW 18+, OC is transmasc

Green eyes stared hard. The tall German had kept those eyes on him from the moment Watcher had entered the store and drug him along too. His cheeks were rosy pink beneath that black mask as they walked up and down the aisles, looking at the many hyper-realistic dildos and harnesses. Konig’s arms were crossed over his chest, his fingers tapping nervously atop his bicep in time with his own racing heartbeat. “Fyn,” the strained voice spoke beneath his mask, “Please can we go?” The ginger turned to give the tall man a curious look, they had discussed coming here but the big man was starting to change his mind.

Slowly a smile erupted on that freckled face, noticing the anxiety in the other man immediately before he answered quietly, “How are ye sleekit, Koni? You say things that make even me blush when we’re in bed.” Konig went even more red at that comment, and his dark red brows rose into his hairline as the shorter man spoke. He raised a hand towards those plush, pink lips and shook his head quickly. Simultaneously he raised his other hand to his own face putting a single finger up to his mask in an attempt to shush the Scotsman who only seemed more amused by the futile gesture.

That strained voice came out from underneath the mask once more as he shook his head, “No, Fyn. Do not- Stop talking. Please,” Konig was stammering over his attempts at speaking now, pleading with the ginger in front of him to stay quiet. “This is not- You cannot say those things here, Fyn. We are in public, anyone could hear-” Green eyes raised and he glanced down the aisle at a woman who stopped momentarily to look at them with a bit of a tilted head before she decided not to stop and continued on.

Watcher continued to smile good-naturedly even after glancing down to look at the disappearing woman. As soon as she was gone the ice blue gaze returned to the shelf in a moment, “It’s alright Koni, no one cares. But if it’s geein ya the boak we’ll leave, come on then,” the shorter man reached for the huge hand that dwarfed his own in comparison. Long, lithe fingers wrapped around the warm, gloved hand as he finally headed back down the aisle for the door. Maybe dragging Konig into Luke & Jack’s wasn’t the best idea after all, even if he didn’t want to come by himself he should have known the tall man would have had his reservations about it.

~~~~~Three Days Later~~~~~

The door opened quietly behind the completely engrossed Scotsman. Watcher was so busy playing his FPS he didn’t even hear the squeaking of hinges over the sounds of shooting. The quietly creeping form behind him was careful not to give himself away either. The loud, usually overly sweet, Scotsman watched his screen fade to black before switching to his teammate’s view. Immediately the young man yelled out, “Are ya takin the fuckin piss!? How did ya no trade me ya numpty!?”

Watcher huffed with frustration as he tapped the top of his mic to mute himself, continuing to curse under his breath at the screen and shake his head at whoever he was watching. His teammate didn’t last much longer after that, maybe a few more seconds, before he too died. The screen faded to black before a single word flashed across the monitor, ‘Defeat’. Fyn’s jaw tensed angrily, his fingers tapping against the desk as the match finally ended and he pressed the button at the top of the screen to requeue.

A pale hand found the lithe shoulder in the next moment, the vine tattoos on full display as the Scotsman wasn’t wearing a shirt. At first the smaller man jumped with his eyes blown wide, his hands coming up to knock whoever was touching him away. In the next moment though he saw the backs of those familiar tattooed hands, a couple light and faded scars along his knuckles, and the fingernails painted in a fresh coating of black. A familiar sight that never failed to make his face light up as he caught sight of the scarred and beautiful face above him.

The racing of the ginger’s heart finally stopped as Watcher relaxed into an easy smile, looking up into dark green eyes, “Where huv ye been, Koko? Been bored and alone all day, now I’m sittin here all scunnert, not a bloody soul in the world knows how ta play this fuckin game and especially not these four dafties.” That slight tone of annoyance came back in a moment before the ginger took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and then returned his gaze to Konig with a forced smile. Though his look softened as he watched the other man, it always did. Like a balm for his very soul…if he had one.

In response the German moved his hand to rest atop the pile of ginger curls, running through the thick hair as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to those lips. When Konig pulled away he smiled warmly down at him in return before finally he answered, “I’m sorry, Newt.” There was a quiet giggle from the Scotsman who still couldn’t believe that was what Konig had decided upon calling him when they weren’t on base of course. All because he had a Great Crested Newt tattooed across his collarbone among the vines, dog-roses, and wood anemone. He could have chosen between a Red-Eyed Crocodile Skin and an Adder and instead the man had gone with Newt. Though he had to admit it was endearing.

When another kiss pressed against the many curls this time Watcher's eyes narrowed at the tall man, wondering what it was the German wanted. It wasn't that Konig wasn’t sweet all the time, he was, sometimes overbearingly so. It was more of a feeling that pulsed in Fyn's gut that told him that the tall, red haired man behind him was awaiting the perfect moment to do something. Or to at least say something. The other man had never been all that good at hiding his expressions, a side effect of always wearing a mask wherever he went. Your facial expression typically became much more loose in private when you never had to worry about it while out in public.

Konig didn't seem willing to share his intentions though as he added on to his apology, "I was out buying a few things. I did not think you would be so lonely here without me, you seemed very interested in your game when I left." Had he been interested in the game? Fyn honestly couldn't remember, he had a tendency to get sucked into them when he started playing. To be honest the apartment could have been on fire and the Scot probably never would have noticed unless someone physically drug him away from his PC. As Konig finished his sentence though a loud noise came from the computer that caught Watcher's attention in a second.

The shorter man turned in a moment, sliding his chair forward back under the desk as the countdown for his next game began. Still though the Scotsman answered him, "Well I was…Felt very neglected, Koni." It was a blatant lie, and one that Konig could see through easily, and worked to draw out a smile on the big man's face in response. When the ice blue eyes flicked back up to the other man he saw the dark red eyebrows lift in a silent apology, the huge hand that had settled on his shoulder giving a gentle squeeze. "It's ok, I forgive ya, unlike the bastarts in this game," Konig gave a light laugh at that as he settled against the back of the chair to watch as the Scotsman readied for his next match.

As Fyn setup traps and an ambush on site in the pregame the tall German behind him scrunched up his nose at the voice he heard through the headphones, “We do not sound like that, Fyn. You know I hate when you play her.” The ginger merely gave a quiet smile as he stayed laser focused, Konig had never liked this character and it never failed to amuse him. It wasn’t like there was a Scottish character to cause him the same sort of annoyance, thankfully.

As the countdown for the start of the round began Konig leaned down against the back of the chair with an anxious look in his eyes. The young man was completely engrossed at this point, he didn't see the gleam in those green eyes, or the way his scruffy chin settled just behind where his head was. As an enemy peeled around the corner the chess game between them began, "I've been thinking," there was a quiet hum from Watcher but it was obvious he wasn't really paying attention, "That I may have overreacted in that store the other day." There was another soft smile that appeared on those plush, pink lips but other than that the young man stayed completely focused on what he was doing.

The fingers of that huge catcher's mitt slid back into the curly locks along the back of Watcher's head. Nails dragging lightly against his scalp as the German successfully drew out another low, satisfied hum from the young Scotsman. Still though the other remained completely focused on his game, finishing the first round with a win. In a softer voice Konig continued, "I, um, well it made me a bit nervous." There was a nod from the ginger, they'd already talked about this both before and after entering the store so to hear him bringing it all up again was a bit…unexpected.

A hard swallow as those long, thick fingers continued to play with his hair softly and Konig pushed on, "I wasn't sure what else you might want to do with a-” The tall man stopped for a second trying to think of the word before finally continuing, “I believe you called it a packer?" Fyn nodded slowly again, the young man's attention now divided between his game and the huge man currently bent in half to talk softly just behind his ear. The second round ended with another win for the Scot's team due mostly in part to the ginger's work. Any time you wipe an entire team it's safe to say you did the heavy lifting.

This was getting a bit long winded now, in truth. Konig was drawing out what he was trying to say, his anxiety building with every extra second it took him to get out where his mind was leading his words. The tall man cleared his throat and pushed onward, "I know you said you've never used one before," the Scot nodded again. It was the truth, Watcher had come out early on in highschool to his parents who had been completely supportive of him from the moment he had told them. That support had eased some of that dysphoria, the need to prove to himself he indeed a man. Especially after his top surgery it had never really mattered to him what was in his pants after that. Or it had mattered much less, at least for a few blissful years.

Then about the time he'd started to get more comfortable with the idea of having something down there and even sex, he'd gotten himself arrested for hacking something he really should not have been hacking. And by that point packing just became a hindrance so it was just easier not to even let himself think about it anymore. He just kept himself busy and avoided the thought of bottom dysphoria as best he could. Though over the past few months that dysphoria had been rearing its ugly head. Turning his bad days to worse even though he hid them well, from everyone except Konig anyway. It wasn’t like most of the other guys knew he was transmasc anyway, well no one except for Laswell and Price anyway. So even if they had noticed something off it was doubtful anyone would have guessed what it really was.

However, the German always saw him when he was looking at himself in the mirror. He watched as the ginger criticized everything he still found inherently feminine about himself. The shape of his face, the way his hips looked, how short he was, and the list went on and on. The tall man had also noticed the other man's seemingly worsening anxieties about every little thing that didn't even have anything to do with his body. Konig had always been hyper aware of everyone else around him and when it came to his little Scotsman the truth of that statement only increased tenfold. "Fyn," there was a small hum as if to say, 'Yes dear?' so Konig continued, "Would you- Will you-" The tall man couldn't seem to figure out how to ask this without feeling like an idiot for saying it aloud, before finally he just blurted out, "I want you to top me."

Fyn's hand froze on the mouse, his icy eyes blowing wide with surprise. The screen faded to black a second later as an enemy came around the corner and lit Watcher up without so much as a single shot in return from the overly competitive Scotsman. The camera view changed to one of his teammates, but the young man was frozen in his chair while he stared at the screen with a surprised unseeing look as he tried to process what his much larger boyfriend had just said. No scratch that, what his impossibly large and extremely dangerous boyfriend had just demanded of him.

"Ye say wha?" Fyn turned around in the chair to look up at Konig with that wide-eyed expression but the sound of the round loss and the start of the next forced his attention back to the screen. Though it was very obvious that Watcher was paying no attention to what was happening in the game. Completely forgetting to set his equipment up for the next round. His teammates shouting questioningly at him in the voice chat.

Icy hues kept flicking to the hand still resting on his shoulder as he played through the round to the best of his abilities. Even distracted he managed to kill two of the other team before he felt the large index finger tracing absently over a freckled shoulder. Swallowing hard, the young man turned again looking up at Konig before he asked, “Ya want me ta…top ye?” The German watched him for a brief moment before giving a hesitant nod.

Slowly the young man’s head tilted as he looked up at the other, taking a deep breath as he thought about it for a moment. “Koni, I’d love ta, but I dinnae…Well I mean I dinnae have a real prick,” Fyn laughed lightly as he shook his head. Trying not to upset himself at that statement, it wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed having to admit aloud. Another round started in the next heartbeat and the Scotsman returned to his game, his mind whirling with thoughts.

Clearing his throat the German stamped down some of his nervousness, “I know that little Newt, but-” Watcher lifted a hand to stop him, before pointing back at the screen as the round started. Green eyes focused on the game again, quieting as he tried to let the young man focus. It wasn’t often that Fyn got the chance to play anymore with work and their relationship, so while he had the chance Konig was content to let him play, at least until he decided he was done.

As the round came to an end Watcher hurriedly looked back to the tall man as the German spoke again, “So I went shopping today, yes?” The Scotsman gave a tentative, slow nod as Konig retreated out the door for a quick moment and then returned with a shopping bag. “So I got you something to, you know, make up for my overreaction yesterday.” He shoved the bag forward towards the young man, eyebrows raised expectantly as Fyn took it from him.

Watcher didn’t open it immediately, weighing the bag in his hand for a moment as he looked up at Konig with a small smile, “Ya got me something? It isnae my birthday, Koni," the ginger gave him a wry smile as he looked up. As he opened the bag though his icy eyes slid down, taking a quick glance inside the wry smile turned into a beaming grin.

An incredulous laugh left the young man’s mouth as he shook his head and shuffled through the bag inspecting the contents inside, "I know that it is not your birthday little Newt, but you have been talking about it for a while now so I bought it for you…well I bought a few of them, I was not sure which was best. I am sorry," the tall man's cheeks were blood red by now. Green eyes looking anywhere but at the Scotsman.

The shorter man was too busy digging around in the bag to notice the other's nervousness though. Fyn was looking at the two different harnesses and three different hyper-realistic dicks in their boxes. Ice blue eyes widened as he inspected them, one was specifically for packing, smaller than the other two and without any potential to be used in the bedroom. The other two though were definitely meant to be used in bed. The mere size of the both of them made him laugh a little bit.

Ginger brows rose along his forehead as he pulled out the biggest one, eyes blowing wide before his features settled into a smirk, "So Koni, my prick is bigger than yers now." A nervous laugh escaped the man currently towering over him before Fyn leaned back in the chair, a smug smile on his face. "Ya want me ta top ya then, yeah?" Konig's large hand lifted to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck before he gave a hesitant nod. Watcher shrugged and gave a quick nod before turning back to his still ongoing game, "Alright then I will." The tall man behind him shifted on the balls of his feet, the floor beneath him creaking with the effort.

Still the game continued on the monitor. Watcher died first and he spun in his chair again to look up at the still quietly watching German. A smile was still on that pretty face as the Scot reached for Konig's hand, pulling him down to press a kiss to the larger man's lips. "Always so willing to please aren't ya, Koko?" The tall man nodded his reddened face just in front of the much prettier face in front of him. As he tried to pull away though Fyn's fingers tightened around his wrist and the other found a grip in the collar of his shirt, "I didnae say ya could go nowhere. We were havin ourselves a moment." The current round still raged on behind him and completely forgotten for the moment as Watcher focused on the man in front of him instead.

The tall man's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, drawing the icy gaze for a moment before Fyn dove back in. Heated and needy despite how cool and relaxed he appeared on the outside. It was impossible to resist the sweet taste on the Scots tongue, the large hands bracing on the armrests on either side of the smaller body. There was a slight hum from Konig’s throat just before the ginger pulled away with a smirk and sat back in his chair, leaving the German slightly out of breath and with a stain of red across his cheeks. Green eyes blinked a few times as he had to force himself not to shift and adjust himself inside his pants.

Before the tall man could even utter a protest Watcher was back to his game, ignoring the slightly heavy breathing just behind him. It was like the Scotsman hadn’t just had his tongue down Konig’s throat. A cautious step to stand behind the chair once more and he saw the bowl of ice cream sitting at the edge of the desk. No wonder Fyn had tasted so good. Leaning down over him again, Konig whispered just loud enough to hear over the game, “I thought we were having a moment?”

A hint of a smile found his delicate features as someone yelled over the headset, that the German didn’t quite understand but he knew it was good, excited even. Probably something to do with the kill that the ginger hit on one of the enemy players. In the next few moments Fyn hit three headshots in a row to win the round before leaning his head back and raising a hand to pull Konig back down. His lips pressed hard against the taller man’s, dragging him into another heavy kiss during the short pause between rounds without even turning the chair around this time.

When Watcher pulled away again his smirk was even bigger as he said, “I think ya may be my good luck charm. Haven’t had a shot all night till ya walked in here.” Konig gave a light laugh leaning a bit further towards the ginger who quickly pulled away, with a teasing shake of the head as he returned to his game. Dark red brows knitted together in confusion, as the German huffed a bit, watching the young man return to playing his game. A bit frustrated after being left without the ability to taste the sweetness of that beautiful mouth again.

Fyn was playing more than one game now. As he stood behind him for the start of the round though it became very obvious that the tall man was more than willing to play along. Surprisingly light fingers grazed along Watcher’s jaw, drawing another smile from the young man who was more than pleased to receive the attention. Leaning into the light touch soft kisses found the long, freckled throat in the next few moments. “Yeah, just like that,” the young man whispered.

A voice sounded in the headset which made the both of them pause for a quick moment until Watcher cleared his throat and answered, “Yeah mate, right there. He’s in long…” The German smiled against the thin skin before he resumed the light kisses. The ginger smiled again and whispered, “Sorry, hit the wrong button.” A quiet laugh left the tall man as he continued to nibble lightly at the younger man’s throat.

The soft feeling of a tongue running over his skin made the Scot’s chin raise just a bit, his teeth biting at his bottom lip for a moment as he hummed appreciatively. The other team didn’t even make it on site that round before Konig whispered, “You taste good tonight. What did you do differently little Newt?” Watcher shivered hard at the breath playing over the little patches of saliva left over on his throat from the tall man’s ministrations.

Turning in the chair the young man found his dark green eyes before he shrugged, “Nothin different, but you know…” Fyn leaned forward to tempt Konig towards him before once more sinking back into the chair, the tall man following him as he once more braced on the arm rests with his own excited smile. “I know something that would taste a little better than that.” The blush across Konig’s face deepened even more as he glanced down where the young man’s tattoos disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts.

Cocking up an eyebrow the German gave a nervous chuckle before asking, “Are you sure? You are in the middle of a game.” Fyn didn’t hesitate to grab a tattooed arm, pulling Konig’s huge hand to his side, sliding it a bit lower to rest gently around one of his hips. “How do you-” The young man hooked a foot into the back of one knee before buckling it and repeating it with the other until the tall man was kneeling in front of him with a surprised look. “Oh,” he breathed out before Watcher had a hand at the back of his head pulling him into another hard kiss, exploring the other’s mouth with a smile still on his lips.

Another round started on the monitor and loud voices were coming from the headset in angry and demanding tones. Fyn just slid the headphones off his ears to settle around his neck for a moment, ignoring his teammates as Konig’s hands gripped at either side of his waist. The young man wrapped his legs around Konig’s waist, lifting his backside off the chair as fingers hooked into the waistband of his shorts and pulled down hurriedly.

The underwear and shorts came off in a smooth motion before Watcher sat back on the chair and unwrapped his legs. The German’s face was red, his breathing even quicker now as he sat back on his heels to take in the sight. Christ he was beautiful, it made him rock hard and needy just seeing his bare, sculpted chest, but now there he was completely bare before him and it was driving the big man insane. His green eyes glanced behind the ginger to the round currently going on in the background, once more catching the sound of the voices yelling in the headset. Fyn didn’t seem too worried about them though so he decided not to worry either.

Konig dove back in, lips finding the freckled skin just over his sharp collarbone. His fingers still worked to pull the shorts down his long legs, throwing them to the side as they finally came off. Watcher was nearly off of the chair now, sitting right on the edge and biting his lip with a bright sheen over his eyes, enjoying the quick pace Konig was currently working at. It did something to the both of them to be doing this where a single press of the wrong button could get them both caught by complete strangers on the internet.

Slowly green hues traveled down, shaking his head slowly as he leaned down, pressing light kisses to the other man’s knee. Sliding up his thigh slowly before glancing up to catch sight of the freckled face above him, cheeks tinged red and eyes alight with anticipation. A thin hand reached up, sliding into dark red locks while Watcher urged him on, “There ya go.” Konig’s lips inched down the inside of Fyn’s thigh, earning a little shift of the man’s hips towards his frustratingly far face.

Just as the German was about to reach his destination though another loud yell came from the headphones and there was an annoyed sigh from the man above him before the fingers in his hair tightened. Fyn stopped him just shy of his prize before he slid his headphones back up onto his ears and his mind began to think up a solution. “Under, Konig, get under the desk,” a skeptical look found the other man’s face as he looked under the desk and then back up to the freckled face.

It wasn’t a joke though, the Scotsman was being completely serious. There was no joking smile, and the sweet look he typically wore had been washed down the drain by now. When Fyn pushed his chair back he gestured towards the desk again and the tall man sighed before whispering, mainly to himself, “If you say so…” It took a moment for him to maneuver underneath before Fyn slid his chair back into place.

There it was, sitting right in front of him, that perfect and dripping core that overpowered nearly every thought in his mind. It was already glistening with apparent arousal, the young man’s hips shifting again as he spoke above him, “How ya crabbit, mate? We’ve still got time, haud yer wheesht and play the game.” Fyn let go of the button before leaning back in the chair, his hand resting on the keyboard and the mouse now.

The young man was naked before his eyes, every tattoo available for him to see. From the vines winding down his sides and stomach to the mingling roots from the tree that Konig knew was tattooed on his back. The Scotsman’s tattoos were more like an artist had painted his skin. That pale and freckled flesh had become a canvas for the tattoo artist, rendering his whole visage even more beautiful than he already was. It was making his own cock throb with need where it was still trapped in his pants. “So beautiful, little Newt,” the man beneath the desk whispered with a breathy sigh.

Roots wrapped around Fyn’s thighs, winding down with the vines till the roots ended on the bottom of his feet and the vines ended on the top. The young Scotsman was a walking display of artistic talent and the sight never failed to impress Konig, especially when he started to compare his own which weren’t nearly as thought out and instead were much more disjointed. Konig looked like someone slapped stamps on him in comparison to the beauty that was the freckled skin in front of him. He reached a hand down, palming himself and easing a bit of that needy ache. Squeezing hard for a few moments as he continued to stare at the dripping depths in front of him.

The hips before him shifted again as Watcher was forced to focus back on the game in front of him. Slowly the man underneath the desk leaned forward again, his gentle fingers tracing a vine up the expanse of his thigh until it started to wind around to his side. Large hands took hold of the thin hips then as he pressed another kiss to one of the larger roots that wrapped around his thigh. He was worshiping that body, making Fyn writhe beneath his soft touch without even really meaning to, Konig just couldn’t help himself whenever he was blessed with the sight of this beautiful body.

Warm air played across the glistening area between his thighs as he drew out a slight jerk of the hips he was still holding onto. Finally Konig’s tongue darted out, licking up the expanse, gathering the slick on his tongue and humming at the taste. Above him Watcher let out a breathy sigh at the feeling before he whispered, “Fuckin hell, took ya long enough.” Konig laughed a bit at the words before he pressed his face between those thighs again, burying himself in the delectable cunt spread out like a feast before him.

One would think the distraction of Konig’s mouth would hurt the performance of his gameplay, that it would prevent him from getting what he needed done. However, it seemed to do the exact opposite. Spurring him on as he peeked a corner getting a headshot just after Konig’s tongue flicked over the head of his dick and drew out a delectable moan. And when the man beneath him started to whisper quiet praises like, “You’re so fuckin wet,” and, “Gott, you taste so good, Newt,” Watcher peeked a corner and headshot every single one of the enemy team. The man took out a whole team in less than thirty seconds with his heart thudding in his chest from the little adrenaline rush and the fact that his boyfriend was currently under the desk going down on him like there was no tomorrow.

The entire situation was truly invigorating. He’d never felt anything like it as one of his teammates was in utter shock currently, just standing in spawn and turned to stare at him. Fyn was ignoring the voices coming through his headphones though at this point, including the valuable callouts, electing instead to enjoy the cute little noises coming from the giant beneath the desk. The game was almost becoming a nuisance though at this point, taking his focus away from how good that tongue felt as it dove into his depths. Lapping and licking like his cunt was an oasis and Konig had been in a desert for three days without any water.

“Oh shite Ko-” the muscles of his abdomen were starting to quiver and his thighs were shaking as large hands slid down his hips to hold them open. A quick moan and jerk of his hips up before he had to settle his hands again and focus back on the game. “Fuck Koko, yer about ta make me cum,” the young man groaned and closed his eyes as he focused for a moment on not doing just that. A warning that the other team was on site had Watcher turning his icy gaze back to the monitor as he swallowed hard, trying to stay focused.

Konig merely hummed at the words, taking it more as encouragement to keep going rather than a warning to slow down. Within the next moment Watcher over-extended and got himself killed, probably on purpose if he was being honest as his hands disappeared below the desk and his back pressed against the chair to lift his hips a bit more. A small smile found the German’s mouth but he didn’t stop, his tongue flicking diligently over the head of his dick.

In the next moment a hand slipped between his thighs to join his mouth in its work, a long finger toying slowly at his entrance. “Ah shite, yeah,” Fyn nodded quickly before the finger slid in. Thick and much more rough against his walls than they had been against his skin. Konig worked slowly at first, mindful of how big his hands were. Stretching the young man’s entrance with deliberate slowness. Watcher needed time to adjust even to his fingers, but as he slowly relaxed around his middle finger the tall man added another.

Three rounds could have passed in the next few moments and the Scotsman wouldn’t have cared in the slightest. His own hands were tangled in Konig’s hair, pulling his mouth even closer, nearly suffocating the man though there were no complaints or disgruntled noises from the big man. Quickly he wrapped his lips around the engorged head of his cock and sucked a few times, curling the two digits up as a gruff moan came out of Fyn’s mouth and one hand flew to brace against the chair.

He was completely out of it at that point, in both mind and in consideration to the chair, as Konig’s eyes went wide. Though there were no signs of him stopping any time soon as he was continuing to suck at the tip for a few more seconds as Watcher’s release coated his fingers in that deliciously wet slick. The orgasm rolled through the young man in a hot wave that left him gasping and his body jerking for a few moments. “Oh shite, shite, shite,” his mind was foggy for a second as Konig pulled his fingers out and wrapped an arm around the young man’s back, the other throwing his pale, tattooed legs over broad, muscled shoulders.

His mouth was only pulled away for a few moments before he dove back in. At this point the chair had been pushed halfway across the room out of the way and the German had settled Watcher on his shoulders, the dripping release coating his tongue as his mouth returned diligently to its work. So long as Konig didn’t have to talk his anxiety wasn’t so bad, and his confidence was especially high with the little moans and groans he was pulling out of the other man now sitting on him as if he was a throne rather than a living breathing person.

It wasn’t the first time Watcher had been on his shoulders, but it was the first time he’d been on his shoulders backwards before. This was all new territory but both of them seemed to be adjusting well to it, hard not to when they were enjoying themselves so much. There was a moment of panic in those icy eyes before his hands found the keyboard and mouse again and he forced himself to return to his game, even as Konig coated his mouth and chin in the slick cum still dripping out of that warm, pulsing entrance. Fyn’s freckled chest was still heaving with the effort of his first climax as he let out a quick apology, “My bad, mate…Had to, uh, answer my boyfriend, ya know how it is.”

A huff of amusement left the German as he pulled his mouth away for just a moment. Eyes shining up at Watcher with pride as the Scotsman rolled his eyes. A quick hand flew down before tangling into Konig’s dark red locks and forced his mouth back to work before he whispered, “Didnae say ye were done. Back to work, Koni,” he smiled down at him for a moment as the tongue returned to its original task. And Christ it was doing that task with unmatched skill. "Holy shite," the ginger whispered under his breath as his head tipped back for a moment. With no chair to stop it though Konig had to wrap both of his arms around the small of his back to keep him from falling.

Until Fyn got himself righted anyway and forced his eyes back to the screen. The huge arms surrounding him were the only things keeping him from riding Konig's face right off into the floor honestly. Watcher's hips were grinding down on the big man's tongue, little huffs of air coming from his slightly parted lips. The flat of his tongue dragging over his entrance before diving back inside, still more than enjoying his feast. The sharp point of his nose was nudging against the sensitive bundle of nerves and causing Fyn to clench around him again, his thighs locking his head into place so well the only thing that could be seen were the dark red locks and shining green eyes.

Konig was wearing Fyn's throbbing cunt like a fucking mask. Hiding himself between pale, freckled thighs and all the while the young man was having to force himself to focus on the game. And funny enough the more attention Konig's tongue paid him the better he seemed to be. His shots were hitting with pinpoint precision and accuracy as if the game itself knew what the two were doing and was only cheering them on. Giving Fyn a pass to keep going by providing him with a favorable rng.

Two more rounds of grinding against Konig's face was nearly all that the young man could handle. His thighs were starting to shake around Konig's head as he neared his second climax. The tongue currently delving inside was sending his mind off the rails. If there was one thing about this fucking man it was that he could eat you out and he never even came up for air. Forward focused on the task given to him and working only to put your head in the clouds. It was torturously good but you'd never hear the Scotsman complain about getting head from him. It was the highlight of his day.

"I'm close, Koni," his words were breathy and barely audible over the sounds of Konig's tongue working wonders on his body. His breath was already starting to come in short, tense gasps. A feeling of white hot heat starting to spread out from his core and down through his thighs, with his toes curling in anticipation. And yet still he was able to focus on the game. It was the last round, all he had to do was not let his idiot teammates die and they could win this. A 5v4 was easy, they had numbers on their side after one of the enemy team had disconnected.

Yet the second he thought that in his mind the game took a dire turn. He almost fucked it, his hand already reaching down to find the top of Konig's dark red hair. However, he stopped the second he heard the obnoxiously loud voice yell, "Last player standing!" He stared blankly at the screen for a moment, not quite believing that fact that he was so close now, nearly there and he was now in a 1v4 situation on the last round. It was a joke, and yet when he looked at the scoreboard he was staring at four other faded pictures that let him know very quickly it was not a joke.

A voice, that didn't really sound like his own, yelled through the mic, "Ya daft bastarts! Stotterin aboot like right roasters ye are! Ye ever heard of holdin the bloody site!? How ye go and die like that!? All four of ya are tier one operators but ya cannae play a fuckin game!? Price just ran us through fuckin holdin drills for three hours yesterday!" There were a few clicks from the keyboard as Watcher kept going, slowly walking through the map all the while still grinding frustratedly against Konig's mouth. In the next moment the young Scotsman was going on a tirade to each and every teammate, "Soap quit running in with the fucking LMGs and gettin yersel killed like a teuchter! Ghost learn how ta snipe ye daftie or put the damn thing down. They cost too much for ya ta be buyin one every fuckin round and dying with it down long! Gaz, haud yer wheesht yer no better. Running right inta em and giving em free guns every fuckin round."

There was a pause as Fyn let go of the mic key, a huff of air leaving him along with a low moan as Konig pushed him ever closer to his next release. His ankles locked at the mid of Konig's back before he got himself back under control and cleared his throat, "And Speck I cannae say much to ye, I know yer only filling in cause Koni was out. Thank ye fer that. Still though what tae fuck man! I cannae do everythin mysel, ya cunts!!!"

The second he finished his tirade Watcher ran right into one of the enemy team, his mouse flicking up as he shot the guy in the head and kept going. "Now all of ye, shut yer mouths, I'm trying ta work," the young man felt his legs shaking even more now but he couldn't let himself give in to that mouth right now. His voice dropped back to a whisper then as he groaned out, "Slow down. Just a bit, got ta focus. Then I'll fuck ye, alright?" A smirk found his mouth and only widened when he heard the quiet moan from between his thighs and felt the vibrations in the same second.

Konig listened though, his tongue pulling out in favor of wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves. His tongue glided over it in slow, languorous strokes as he continued to edge Fyn ever closer to his next climax. He agreed to slow down, not stop completely. The next moment the bomb was planted and there was an annoyed sigh from the young man as he backtracked all the way to his original site. He ran straight into the second attacker as he rounded the corner, his mouse flicking as he hit another headshot immediately. The second he did, Konig's arms tightened as he pulled the man down harder on his working mouth.

Watcher nearly came right then and there, it took everything in him not to. His mind was trying to go fuzzy as the big man beneath him did everything in his power to distract him from his secondary goal: defuse the bomb. The heat was blazing over Fyn's skin, turning what wasn't covered in ink or freckles into a red noticeable flush. He needed to let go and finally reach his climax that had been building for the past ten minutes now, but he couldn't. "Slow it down aye? Two more, Koni, hold on," a growl vibrated through the man beneath him as he pulled even harder. Refusing to relent this time, and fucking hell Watcher had to admit he didn’t exactly want him to either.

Ice blue eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the feeling of that vibration, his head shaking back and forth as he tried to stay focused. "Fuckin hell," his hips grinded against the rapidly flicking tongue, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he fought to control his breathing and shaking hands. Focus. He needed to focus and get himself out of this fuckin match before he ended up blowing this rank down game.

Soap was whispering in his ears to Gaz who couldn't stop laughing as he tried to answer. A constant distraction in his ears as even Ghost muttered between their constant chatter, "He's not getting out of this one, lads." Speck was ominously quiet on his line until his mic lit up and a single loud bark came over the line. "Affirmative Cerberus," the deep, raspy, British voice responded immediately and then everyone went silent, probably cracking up on their sides of the mic. Fyn was nearly laughing himself while still losing his mind grinding on Konig's mouth. It was a rollercoaster and every second had him tipping further towards senseless babbling.

With the silence though he could hear the light footsteps just over the wall as whoever it was ran up and down the clear shooting lane unaware that he was on the other side. Looking ahead he watched the site, the bomb sitting right out in the open and counting down the time to his loss. He still didn't know where the other one was and he hated the idea of just running in but Konig was picking up his pace again and he certainly didn't have enough time to wait. Clearing his throat he hit the mic button and asked quickly, "Speck," a short pause, "What is it ye always say before running in ta do somethin daft during our ops?" There were a few moments of silence as Fyn inched closer to the bomb on site.

Finally Speck said a bit hesitantly, "Fuck it?" Yep that was it. Fyn jumped out the window and down onto sight. The second he did he turned towards where he'd heard the footsteps, watching one of the enemy team step out earning a couple bullets to the face for their troubles. Fingernails dug into his back as Watcher nearly let out a whine at the feeling which he suppressed into a low hum as he glanced around the site. There wasn't any time to go looking for the last guy though so instead he just hit the defuse and kept his ears open, even as his eyes rolled back at the hum vibrating against the head of his cock. "Shite Ko, I'm trying ta focus," the young man’s voice was strained and barely more than a whisper now. The big man refused to relent though and thank Christ he did because that was truly the last thing he wanted him to do.

He wasn't gonna make it to the end of this defusal at this rate, not with the way Konig was currently driving him mad. Sweat was beading up on his forehead and sliding down his neck as he tried to listen and defuse the bomb halfway. Fingers were digging into the expanse of his back, sending a flash of pain at the fingernails and then immediately behind it the soothing feeling of pleasure that had his hand twitching on the mouse and keyboard. His finger came off the button in an involuntary jerk and the bomb stopped defusing just a second before the last enemy popped his head around the corner.

Lucky, that's what Fyn was. He had been lucky when his parents had been able to work him up a deal to keep him out of jail. He'd been even luckier to be found by Agent Laswell, and the luckiest to have gotten along and fill a much needed role in the 141. And that luck didn't fail him now as he immediately flicked onto the enemy as the other started to fire. It took a single shot to his head and Watcher had his finger back on the defusal key holding it down for dear life as he let himself get lost in the pulsing throb of need now. With five health left to spare the Scotsman was definitely one of the luckiest players in this game sometimes.

The second that the victory screen popped up he heard the loud voices of the others on the headphones but he was oblivious by now. His hands braced on the desk, hips moving in earnest as he started to grind against the quickly working mouth once more. Konig was happy to oblige, the hands pulling off his back and instead affixing to his hips as he tilted his head back some, letting the younger man use him as he saw fit. "Fuckin hell, so good for me," there was a short moan that fell from Watcher's lips, mirrored by the man beneath him. The praise seemed only to make Konig even more eager to please him. His tongue lapped at the head a few times before sucking hard for a few seconds and then repeating. Turning his core into a well of heat that flowed from Fyn's depths and had him nodding without even realizing he was doing it.

His body was no longer even under his control anymore. Thoughts were whirling in his mind and voices were talking in his ears that never even made it to the thought center of his brain. Fyn had one goal, and one goal only now that he'd finished the game, and that was to finish himself. The hands on his desk flew down to the dark red head of hair, shaking just as much as his thighs were as he tried to find his second release. Another loud moan fell from his lips before Fyn muttered, "Yer so good, so fuckin good, letting me use you, fuck Ko. Never get tired of this mouth. Never. Fuck yer perfect. So close, fuck so close, I'm gonna- Oh shite-" There was a hitch in his breath before his head tipped back and his eyes shut tight and he groaned as white hot heat flooded through him in crashing waves.

Fyn was spasming in the strong grasp now, his breathing halted for the moment as he finally found his orgasm. Lithe fingers dug into the hair at the base of Konig's scalp but they were no longer guiding, these were the desperate gripping fingers of a man near gone from pleasure. And the big man beneath him was a man possessed, refusing to quit even as he tried to pull the other away. Long arms locked the Scotsman in place even as his hips writhed desperately trying to find a way to come down from the high.

It wasn’t until freckled thighs had locked him into what was effectively a sleeper hold that Konig finally relented and pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with Fyn’s release. His tongue darted out to lick his lips with a smile. The Scotsman let out his pent up breaths, heaving as he caught his breath while Konig continued to hold him up on his shoulders. Green eyes were watching him with a proud look in his eyes as the other was still trying to regain his composure. Scarred lips pressed against the inside of his thigh gently, even a smile found his mouth as Watcher finally started to catch his breath.

Voices still played in his ears, specifically Soap and Gaz who were already ready to go for another game only for Watcher to hit his mic button and answer with a very definite, “No. See ya tomorrow,” and then he promptly alt+F4 out of the game and shut the computer down. His eyes slid down to where Konig was resting his cheek against the inside of his thigh, still looking up with a small smile on his face, “Thought ye was gonnae kill me, mate.”

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mysticninetalis · 1 year

Text

My Star Trek HeadCanons

Hiya! I just had a lot of head-canon's running around in my head so I just wanted to share a few! These are an amalgamation of things grabbed from Memory Alpha/Beta, as well as what I just like to think are implications of happenings that took places in these character’s lives. I also have a more adult list for more sexy and/or serious HC’s (if you wanna see those)

~~~~~~

Jim Kirk

Certified genius, by both Human and Vulcan standards

Very ADHD

Loves to dances, especially as a kid

This man has freckles everywhere

Had a pet mini-cow named Pickles

Graduated highschool at 16

Got his Masters in Xeno-linguistics and Engineering from UC Berkeley & MIT respectively, by the age of 21

Lover of old 20th/21st music ( think the Beasty Boys, Nickelback, Red Hot Chili Peppers, FFDP, Lil’ John, Dr. Dre, 2Pac, ect.)

He purposely fucks with Bones by singing “Get Low” anytime the joke call for it ‘cause he know the old Grumpus hates it

Has a cow plushie that he has kept to this day, it was his dad’s.

Loves himself a good Pina Colada

Is honestly a huge bookworm (his guilty pleasure is dirty novels lol)

loves to cuddle (especially with Bones or Galia)

allergic to most fruits and flowers (including a lot of aliens fruits. Also strawberries, which sucks because he loves them), as well as most nuts

He’s such a sucker for gelato, but Bones restricts how much he has :(

A very loving and open pansexual

Loves to wear all kinds of clothing, especially a good dress every now and then

Met Sulu in his 2nd year because he joined the fencing club

Took Chekov under his wing and they were study buddies

Spock

Has a stuffed Sehlat names Muffins that Sybok gave him when he was 2

Queer as shit

Follower of the “Talk Shit, Get Hit” way of life

Followed Sybok & Micheal everywhere (even sneaking out with whenever they did during the older sibling’s shenanigans)

Always got carried by his “scruff” by I-Chaya whenever he was getting into things he wasn’t supposed to

His answer to everything when in trouble was “Following one’s curiosity is logical, it is how one learns” (his made Amanda always laugh and Sarek question his life)

Has a tattoo of the vulcan G’teth bush & Induku tree wrapped in Terran roses on his left shoulder (an homage to his family’s humanity and vulcan culture) as well as the mark of the Khas-wan wrapped along his left bicep.

He has a few ear piercings and actually likes ear jewelry (it is one of his few illogical indulges)

Is a avid poetry reader

Mastered the art of Suus Manha around the age of 10

He very much understands human colloquialisms and metaphors, he just acts like he doesn't to fuck with people.

During the customary show-and-tell every child has after their Khas-wan, Spock brought the pelt of a young Le-Matya he had killed, because it was only logical to tell in detail how he survived to his classmates (and rub it in Stonn’s face)

Totally has a secret love for ABBA (and disco in general), Reggaeton, American Country music, and dancing of many terran verities thanks to his mother and her side of the family (including but not limited to knowing how to whine, the tango, the waltz, and southern line dancing)

Dyslexic as shit, but learned to overcome it thanks to his mama

Such a Mama’s boy, will beat of anyone who talks shit about Amanda, including adults when he was a child

cried for days when Sybok was sent off planet, and again when Micheal left, and no one was able to comfort him besides Muffins

Leonard Horatio “Bones” McCoy

The gentlest person alive under all that bluster

Half-Hispanic on his Mama’s side

Makes tamales during the christmas holidays

The galaxies #1 Daddy, he has a mug that says so

Was in charge of hair day when they lived together because he was the parent that braided the most efficiently (plus it kept his hands very dexterous for work)

Knits Joanna sweaters (he also crocheted her a stuffed Tinkadink because it was her favorite Pokemon and like the fact that it hits other pokemon out of the sky)

Wore a pretty floral white and lavender sundress dress to Daddy-Daughter day because when Joanna was in 3rd grade she wanted to try out some “boy” clothing but was worried her friends would think she was weird

Loves Country music (especially Mark Twain, Morgan Wallen, and Dolly Parton)

He’s also a metal-head

Always lets Joanna dress him whenever they visit, they also paint each others nail

Almost tore Joanna’s 5th grade teacher a new one because some little twat kept bullying her about her hair

Applied to the VSA with an amazing transcript and medical journals to his name and was denied for some bullshit reason, which is why he’s salty about Vulcans

Discovered he was Bi at a young are because he saw an interview of Ambassador Sarek holo and thought he was real pretty

Graduated highschool at 16, got his MD and PHD is Psychology by 21 and finished his residency at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta

Married Jocelyn Treadway at 19, and had Joanna at 22

Makes time for the gym even if his week is hellish (both when he was in school, as well as at work), has very much a well built dad-bod with a big chest and thighs

Was the captain of his high school track team

Danced competitively all throughout his childhood (mainly traditional hispanic cultural dances and was in a more contemporary crew throughout high school and college when he had the time)

Was a exotic dancer starting at 18 to pay for college, which is also where he met Jocelyn

He also took Chekov under his wing and would given anyone who made comments about the whiz kid a patented McCoy glare and just the best passive aggressive bedside manner whenever they were under his care

Wears his Daddy’s Saint Raphael necklace that has Joanna’s birthstone

Nyota Uhura

Secretly loves those cheesy rom-com holovids

a pansexual Queen

A woman who lived by the motto “Gaslight, Girlboss, Gatekeep”

Hated when Kirk and Galia would always cuddle in their dorm room, but eased up one night when she heard Kirk singing a Orion lullaby to a sleeping Galia.

While she puts her career first, she is a very maternal person at heart and loves to babysit whenever Joanna would visit the Academy/Enterprise

oddly enough, shes an amazing impressionist

Beginning halfway through her second year (Kirk’s first), Kirk started to randomly talk to her Vulcan, than Klingon and slowly it turning into an ongoing competition to see who between the two of them know more languages

Loves to do Yoga as well as leaned how to traditional Orion dance from Galia as a form of exercise

Found out after a night of drinking with their friend group that Leonard knew how to poll dance and asked him for lessons whenever their schedules lined up, it be came a bi-monthly thing for them

Always gets her family cute little odds-and-ends for their birthday, as well as a card that says how much she loves them in different languages rotating every year

Shares Spock’s love for earrings and will get him a new pair for his birthday

During the bi-annual talent show, she and Spock usually did an act together

One year it was a tie between her Spock, and Jim & Galia’s dance act

Her, Hendorf, CHristine and Leonard have a once a month girl’s night where they meet in Nyota & Galia’s dorm and talk shit

When she heard that Gary Mitchell spread rumors about Jim being a whore, she did everything in her power to make that man’s life miserable

Sometimes the odd person will make a misogynistic/racist comment about her or her appearance, and miraculously Jim and the person who said it willinup at Medical with Leonard being extra mean to said misogynist (and if Spock hears anything while he’s out wither her, they’ll get the verbal ass whooping of their lives as well as a demerit in their file)

#star trek #my headcanons #jim kirk #leonard mccoy #spock #nyota uhura #i love these idiots #academy era #cupcake

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ickymichi · 2 years

Text

—A GUIDE TO MATSUKAWA ISSEI!

by yours truly, issei’s luver

summary: just hcs of issei, and all about him!!

warnings: nuthin major really!

note: these are all true cause i know cause i’m isseis luver. but this idea somehow came into my head and i can’t leave my room cause we have de covid so i might aswell get a few things out!! enjoy! <3

mymattsun 2022. reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated xx. please do not repost or modify on this or any other platform.

—MUZIC!¡

FAV GENRE(S)- R&B, rock, hiphop, funk

FAV ARTIST(S)- eminem, lil uzi, doja cat, mötley crüe, ABBA, adele, playboy carti, greta van fleet, guns n roses,

FAV SONG(S)- toy soldiers-eminem,

let’s groove- earth, wind & fire,

here comes the hotstepper, ini kamoze

meet me halfway- black eyed peas,

chiquitita- ABBA,

welcome to the jungle- guns n roses

when we were young- adele,

merry go round- mötley crüe.

— FAMILY FIRST!¡

momma’s boy(the good kind), 1 younger brother, 1 younger sister, ded beat dad.

v close with his family <3

spent most his teen years looking after his siblings as his mom was a bartender in the local bar and worked night shifts.

his dad wasn’t in the picture for majority of his childhood, but got back with his mom, had his siblings now sees them on weekends. but still acts like issei doesn’t exist. (we don’t like isseis dad in here >:( )

his moms irish n his dad is japanese (personal self indulgent hc 😇)

big ass family on his moms side. i’m talking grandkids upon grandkids and his moms got 3 sisters n 2 brothers.

issei’s actually the oldest grandchild, the next after him was born 3 years after him but he’s still just as close with them all.

—HOBBIEZ!¡

volleyball in hs obviously but he also grew up with a love for basketball. him and makki grew up playing on the street (also hc him and makki as childhood friends n neighbours:) )

plays the guitar! and he’s really good at it!! and he can sing to but gets embarrassed doing it infront of people.

imma say it, my boys a stoner. look at him!! him and makki!

did it a lot as a teenager then kind of pulled back a bit when he first moved out n got a job, but then realised how tiring adulthood is and picked it back up. especially since him and makki have their own place. (also hc they live together timeskip:p)

gamerrr😩 nah but he spends hours on the play station with makki sometimes u just gotta b like. “issei let’s take a break” before the controllers on the neighbours kitchen table.

fav games r probably cod, ff7 and fnaf(he grew up on it k?)

—INK & NEEDLES!¡

but he has both his first lobes done and usually just wears plain balls in them or diamonds. also has his right helix, left tragus.

on his face he did have his lip done as a teen but took it out when he hit his twenties. kinda misses it. but ones he still has are his nose and left eyebrow. and then also has 1 nipple done.

and tattoos. he definitely has over 25 altogether but some of his favs are:

he has the classic mom in a heart tattoo on the inside of his bicep. roman numerals of his moms bday and his.

has a naked girl on his right ribs that has “killer kat” written on like a sash under it. in honour of him loosing his virginity to a crazy bitch named kat.

has a butterfly on the top of his spine

on his right forearm he has a snake wrapped in thorns going around his arm, but worked his other ink around it.

has lost on his left calf and found on his right in that like gothic font.

has a strawberry on his arm dedicated to his bestie <3 makki has a cigarette for issei (he wasn’t happy bout that.)

and then finally has “ibiza 2019” tattooed on his ass cheek from a seijoh 4 holiday.

—GENERAL!¡

all round chill guy, loves to be that friend that you can relay on. so his place growing up was the place, and now his own apartment is the place.

ik everyone says it but mf gets lazy like, i know it’s saturday but that don’t mean we gotta lie in bed till 1:30pm kay baby? hell then suggest laying on the couch instead.

he could finish a whole netflix series and some more in a day like it’s light work.

but aswell, he could literally wake up one morning, clean his whole house then wait for you or makki to wake up then drag you on a hike. like where’s this energy when needed??

issei has convinced himself he has the best sense of style out of the seijoh 4. in his mind it goes:

issei-> iwa-> makki-> oikawa.

he hasn’t let kawa live down those shorts..

he has a habit of playing the same song whenever he walks to the corner shop by his building. he has it blaring in his headphones and sometimes he starts singing aloud.

also he’s an unREAL singer btw

he also has a habit of walking around naked, claiming it’s more liberating.

he can play drums and guitar!! he used it as a way to distract himself when he was younger and really wanted to be in a band. still thinks he could but doesn’t wanna risk it y’know?

#!!.my work #!!.hq works #!!.[issei] my luver #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa #issei matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei imagines #mattsun fluff #matsukawa issei #matsukawa hcs #mattsun x reader #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu x reader

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quillium · 3 years

Note

I have this thought running in my head for days noW- i have this hc since dr. Baizhu is a dendro doctor, like can he make prosthetics for amputees????????? Bcos im imagining that he uses dendro to like have branches grow on the amputated limb- and those branches will like just grow from the nutrients of the patients blood and then with baizhu's vision,,, he can just reshape the branches to fit the patient

I needed to share this with someone or else i will go crazy

This has been living rent-free in my head for DAYS. When I first read it I actually had to hold myself back from screaming out loud. This is so cool the heck.

People getting cute lil decorations on their limbs... little boys who get roses on their biceps... little girls who have cecilia growing from their wrists... teenagers whose arms grow wolfhook that they can pluck out and eat whenever they want... can you IMAGINE

The idea that your limb doesn’t need to be refitted??? No new prosthetic nonsense when you have a growth spurt? BOOM your leg grows an inch or two to accommodate puberty no biggie like GOSH

Little kids getting jealous in that naive way that kids do. “Why does Alfred get to have valberry on his arm that he can eat during class but I can’t eat until lunch break?”

The idea that a lot less people die from blood loss because even if he doesn’t have a thread on him Baizhu can just grow something to sew together large wounds

“DOCTOR BAIZHU WHY DOES AMY GET A GREEN ARM YOU TOLD ME THE ONLY COLOUR OPTION WAS BROWN”

“I want a tattoo.” “Your arm is made of wood.” “Then I guess you’ll have to use your vision to give me a tattoo.”

Baizhu regrows someone’s thumb because it got lost and they’re like “hey can you give me TWO thumbs?”

Chaotic Liyue citizens who are like “hey if you can grow back a limb can you grow back TWO limbs so that I have like three arms” Baizhu: Absolutely not get out of my pharmacy right now

BONUS: When people get scared of his snake Baizhu lies out of his teeth and says it’s actually just a plant that looks like a snake that he makes move with his dendro powers and they’re like “oh yeah that tracks”

#genshin impact #baizhu #dendro #dreamrecorder #asks #!!! thank you for sending this in you've my whole heart

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movedyourchair505 · 3 years

Text

Chiaro di luna

More honeymoon smut x

- chapter navigation -

“Fookin'ell... this heat...” He took a final drag from his cigarette, the light of it a fiery contrast in the darkness before he flicked it to the ground, crushing it with the bottom of his shoe while he blew the smoke to the side, his hand searching for Jade's again.

She intertwined her fingers instantly with his, already walking closer to his side again. She could still feel a remaining tingle of the whisky they'd had with dinner on her tongue, a pleasant sense of lightheadedness on her mind. As they slowly left the intensity of cigarette smoke behind, she was enshrouded in the cloud of his cologne's spice again, as well as a hint of the rich coconut and hibiscus sun cream she'd convinced him to wear earlier, had massaged into his arms before exiting the hotel. She leaned her head against his shoulder, steadier now on her bare feet in the warm sand. “What did you expect, Alexander?” she hummed.

He chuckled, eased when her other hand wrapped around his bicep and she shifted closer to his side, could smell the rose of her hair. A remark about how close she was halted on the tip of his tongue and he changed his mind, couldn't deny how much he loved her hands on him, her open eagerness to display her devotion to him. “Tha' whiskeh were gorgeous, eh?” He licked his lips. “And them syrup pastrehs?”

Jade laughed quietly at his excitement, shifting to reach his bare skin under his short sleeve of his shirt, pressing a kiss to the flower-embellished cross tattoo. “They were lovely,” she agreed. She adored the way he was finally relaxing, though it had taken a few days for him to fully settle into a temporary routine of no responsibilities. In the distance, she heard the occasional shuffle, though other than that felt like she was really alone with him, not just without Helders following to ensure their safety, but on the entirety of the dark beach, maybe even all of Athens. “You should add them to the Venere menu.”

Alexander hummed in contemplation, turning his head to shift closer to hers. “Would yeh like tha'?”

The instant urge to fulfil something she could possibly want had her press closer to his side almost automatically. “I would. And so would you. I know it.”

“Ah, guilteh,” he chuckled. “I'll 'ave t'remember tha', doll.” He leaned absently to press a kiss to the top of her head, growing increasingly aware of the sticky feeling were their palms were pressed together. He felt even where the late night breeze danced over his skin occasionally, there was a thin layer of sweat, occasional droplets from his hairline. “Fookin'ell...”

Jade sighed. “What?” she asked, worried momentarily that something would disturb the peace that had settled on his mind all day, the pleasant awareness that he was finally allowing himself to enjoy himself as much as he wanted her to.

“So fookin' warm...” he complained. “'s the middle of the night...”

“Baby...” She lifted her head from his bicep, without her heels he held in his other hand not quite reaching his shoulder. Her eyes wandered to the water, the ocean rushing mere metres away from them, the moonlight reflective on the surface. “I mean...”

The suggestive tone in her voice made him turn to her, though found himself quickly distracted by the way the glow of the moon illuminated her face, highlighted the smoothness of her skin, the sparkle of her eyes. “Yes, doll?”

She smiled, turning to meet his gaze fearlessly. “We could always go for a swim, Alexander.”

She was met with a slow blink, his nose twitching. “Can't be gettin' this ensemble wet,” he said decisively, shaking his head as he gestured vaguely to his baby blue linen suit. “No way.”

Jade rolled her eyes. “Not what I was suggesting.”

He pursed his lips as she continued to hold his gaze. “Y'kno' yeh can get meh naked back at the 'otel, Jade...” He swallowed. “Dun't wanna get wet in general...”

“You're already sweating,” she sighed in disbelief. “You've been complaining about the heat, you refused to get in the water this morning...” She shook her head. “Nobody's here.”

His eyes widened when she let go of his hand to step back and move slowly towards the water, walking backwards, the straps of her dress moved off her shoulders to shimmy out of the flimsy plum-coloured dress, within the blink of his eyes it was at her feet and she stood completely naked in front of him, in front of the ocean, drawing the tie from her hair, the triumphant smile on her face irresistible.

“It's up to you.”

Alexander pressed his lips together, motionless as he watched her turn slowly, the curve of her ass, the way she swayed until she was too far away in the darkness to see and when he followed a few steps, the water was concealing his view. “Jade...”

“Come on,” coaxed her voice, then only gentle rapture in the water audible before a sigh of relief floated to him from the dark, almost like a moan that triggered a different image in his head entirely.

Before he knew, he'd dropped her shoes, his fingers were unbuttoning the remaining buttons of his shirt, he shrugged out of it, then discarded of his trousers, had stepped out of his shoes and was following her blindly with need. “C'mere,” he demanded.

The squeal of delight he elicited from her when she realised he was right behind her made his decision instantly worth it and before he could reach out his hands, she was there, her hands slowly moving up his arms before she'd cupped his face and pulled him down in a sinfully consuming kiss, the moan that fell from his lips too instinctive to suppress, his self-control faltering as she pressed herself close and he could feel her hard nipples against his chest, her scent everywhere.

She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers wound into his hair and though she was already stood right there, his skin warm against hers, the water pleasantly cool around them, she knew she truly had him when he relaxed into her palm, his fingers closing around the side of her neck, angling her head to kiss her deeper, slowly taking control of her, his other hand squeezing her ass, drawing her in.

He could sense the way she submitted to him instantly as soon as he took control of her, the moment his fingertips wandered lower, her legs parted, it required more strength of him to hold her against him and she broke the kiss with a shaky gasp when he eased two fingers inside her without warning, humming with satisfaction at the way her body did exactly what he asked. “Yeh been this wet all evenin', Jade?”

He was speaking into her hair, her head now fallen against his chest, her hips in motion to meet his touch. She whined needily.

“Jade.”

His fingers filled her up with a simple shift of his wrist, had her tightening, gushing around him, the way she mewled against his skin beyond her control.

“Oh, 'ere's me good girl,” he drawled, his hand cupping the back of her head possessively to hold her against him, keep her in his arms, keep her close protectively. Her breath was shaky against his chest, the movement of his fingers eased by the water, he was desperate to have her shake against him, feel the power he had over her. “Starved yeh a bit today, eh?”

Her nails were digging into his back, her whimpers desperate. The way his fingers were curling inside her, stretching, demanding, she could hardly control her breathing. The depth of his voice had her without a doubt that begging him would do her no good.

“Ask meh teh let yeh cum, sweet'eart...”

Her moan came out strangled, completely at the mercy of his fingers that slowly closed around her throat, cutting her off the moment she wanted to follow his command.

“Jade,” he warned. “Do as yeh're told.”

Her body was tense, he held her on the very edge of oblivion, she knew that either he would choke her as soon as she'd try to speak again and push her over the edge against his warning, or he would allow her to beg only to deny her until he was satisfied.

“This wha' yeh wanted, eh?” he taunted as she remained quiet, his fingertips stroking over her throat. “Walk by the water, then get fooked a lil'...” His fingertips inside her were stroking at her sensitive walls, sore from that morning.

“A-Alexander,” she choked out, knew she had no choice but to play along.

His fingers tightened around her throat, for a split second while he spoke. “Si, cara mia?”

“Please...” She could barely hold on.

“Tha's better,” he hummed. “Tell meh wha' I want t'ear...”

“Please, am I allowed t-...” She was once again interrupted by a lazy squeeze of his fingers, could have composed herself and waited for his response had he not chosen to draw his fingers from her, dragging along her walls he'd left sore and unattended to all day after taking her in the shower that morning.

She shook in his arms and he held her, knew it was exactly the right thing to do to get her at her absolute weakest for him, could tell from the way she cried out in frustration that she was letting go with nothing filling her up and he could not wait to feel the gratitude she'd have once he would give her what she wanted, his own impatience and desperation fuelling him more than the punishment he knew she'd expect.

“I-I'm sorry,” she cried into his chest. “I tried...”

He angled her head back slightly, leaning to look at her, the way her chest and cheeks were flushed, her lips pouting, pillowy. “I kno', doll,” he assured her, his hand pressed flat to the small of her back. “But y'kno' I luv playin' wif yeh.”

“I'll do anything you want, Alexander...” She was desperate for him to have mercy on her, the darkness in his gaze wild, drunk on lust.

He chuckled, his eyes locked on hers, the desperation in her gaze exactly what he'd hoped for. “I kno' yeh will, pupa...” He licked his lips, smoothing her hair back. “Me pretteh girl.”

She waited, hung on to his every word, ready to do whatever he asked.

“So obedient,” he sighed, pleased with himself and he gave a slow nod. “Turn 'round for meh 'n I'll take care of yeh, doll.”

She trusted him fully to hold her as she followed his command, turned around despite how weak her knees felt, reassured when his arm remained around her to steady her, tightened instantly to pull her against him, the other hand once again loosely cupping her throat, a demonstration of effortless power. Despite his promise, she was on edge, could not predict how he would make her pay for defying him. “I didn't mean t-...”

He pushed his fingers into her mouth before she could finish, her lips tight around him, her fingers wrapped around his forearm tightly. “I know, angel,” he rasped into her hair. “'s all good, joost be'ave for meh now...”

The way she relaxed into his arms instantly when she heard his reassurance weakened him almost beyond his control, her submission delicious. “Lift yehr hips a bit,” he demanded. “Can yeh do tha' for meh?” He was hard, throbbing against her, held her in place as she tried to angle herself weakly to line his tip up with her entrance. “Tha's it, doll...” His hand was between her thighs then, attempting to lift her, his own hips angled perfectly to fill her up with one swift movement.

Her moan was muffled by his fingers as her walls struggled to take him, but he demanded for her to take it all after depriving her before, her nails digging into his arm, her lips sucking greedily on his fingers.

“Shh, shh...” he warned, reveling in the way she squeezed him, squirming to adjust to him and he bucked his hips up again, her whimpers around his fingers uncontrollable. “Jade, I need yeh teh beh quiet for meh...”

Though his lips were against her neck, his chest pressed to her back, he knew exactly what her face looked like, her lips wrapped tightly around his fingers, her eyes teary, rolling back into her head. “Feel fookin' luvleh,” he told her. “Can't wait t'cum 'round me cock now, can yeh?”

His words were overwhelming her, the intensity of his voice so close to her ear, but he knew exactly what she needed, after making her let go around nothing, she was salivating at the thought of her sore walls squeezing around him, falling apart and letting go around him.

“Jade...”

She did her best to nod, her voice muffled by his fingers. “Mmm-y-yes...”

“Won't take mooch...”

He would be the end of her, teasing her out of her mind and she tried to speak again. “Mmf...mm-ple-...”

He chuckled darkly, drawing his fingers from her mouth, taking a hold of her chin instead. “Scusi?”

“Fuck me, please, Alexander...” she whispered. “Please.”

He hummed, pleased. “Wif pleasure, principessa.”

He allowed no slow building of the pace, once he'd taken a steady hold on her again, he lost control of himself instantly, fuelled by her lustful moans and desperate pleas to take her harder, faster, to ruin her as much as he liked, to do whatever he wanted and he couldn't get enough, adored the way she welcomed the way he took charge of her, wanted more and more as he fucked her mercilessly with them concealed by the water up to their chests, her hair shiny in the low glow of the moon, unaware of and indifferent to who would hear her cries of bliss and devotion.

Her heart sank when she felt him slow, hold her tighter, pressed his lips to the side of her neck. “N-No...” she whined, her voice weak. “Please...”

“I kno' yeh're close, doll...” he drawled. “I know... I joost want yeh teh fank meh when yeh let go...”

“I will,” she panted breathlessly. “I promise...”

He groaned as she rolled her hips back greedily into his. “Fookin'ell...” His muscles were tense, but he maintained his grip on her, made sure to hold her upright against him so she could relax into him and with another buck of his hips, he felt her walls trembling, shaking around him, twitching inside her to follow suit, filling her up as she cried out and fell apart in his arms.

“Thank you,” she choked out. “Thank you, Alexander...”

“Fook, Jade...” he groaned, the way she kept squeezing him overwhelming, sore and tight and exactly what he'd craved from her. “Fooook...”

Her breathing was heavy, he could feel her heart pounding, stroking his fingers through her hair as he held her safely so she could catch her breath, compose herself. “I've got yeh.”

Despite the heat that had risen in her body, the cool water was a welcome contrast, relaxing her as much as Alexander's reassurance, as well as the awareness that he would hold her, soothe her until she had gathered herself. “Thank you,” she whispered shakily.

His lips pressed absent kisses to her neck, her shoulder. “Yeh're vereh welcome, me darlin'.”

He remained as he was, held her with nothing but devotion, unshakable patience until she intertwined her fingers with his and attempted to turn around slowly, whimpering when he slipped out of her. His heart skipped a beat as she smiled back at him, looking up to him. “There sheh is,” he rasped softly, his hands on her hips.

She laughed, shaking her head at cheek in his gaze, the smugness despite his inability to keep a straight face. His unfiltered smile would never fail to draw her in and fall in love with him all over again.

“Shall weh go back teh the 'otel?” he asked softly.

“I'm not sure I can walk that whole way...” she confessed.

He chuckled, waving it off. “I'll carry yeh, principessa.”

#alex turner #alex turner smut #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner fic #arctic monkeys #last shadow puppets #adt #writing #chaptered fic #alex turner/oc #alex/jade #napule nights #nn #honeymoon drabbles #mafia au #mafia alex

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celestialvoid-fanfiction · 3 years

Text

Couples Costume

Sheriff Stilinski has the job of chaperoning the school dance when he realises his son is wearing one half of a couple’s costume and he wants to know who has the other half.

[AO3]

“Jackson,” Sheriff Stilinski said warningly.

The young man jumped, snatching his arm back from the punch bowls and quickly hiding the silver flask behind his back as he turned to face the Sheriff.

“Hello, sir,” Jackson said, feigning innocence.

He flashed a charming smile, but it had no affect on John.

John levelled him with an unwavering look and he held out his hand, motioning for Jackson to hand the flask over.

Jackson bowed his head, looking guilty as he moved his hand from behind his back and handed over the flask.

“You can pick it up from the station tomorrow,” John said.

“What?” Jackson objected.

“I’m not going to let you spike the punch and I’m not going to give you back a flask of alcohol before you drive home?” John asked.

Jackson tensed. “Are you going to tell my parents?”

“Not if you don’t try this again,” John promised.

Jackson nodded.

“Now, go on,” John said, nodding towards the crowd.

Jackson hurried back over to his group of friends.

John shook his head, sliding the flask into the inside pocket of his windcheater.

He looked around the large space of the school gym. The large room had been decorated for the Halloween dance; with a canopy of white fabric and orange, purple and black streamers strung from the ceiling to make it look like a tent, strings of lights followed the curves of the fabric and trailed down the walls, and stacks of jack-o-lanterns that the students had carved.

There were a few tables set up around the corners of the room with orange table cloths draped over them and fake candles sitting in the middle of the table to light them.

Students moved around the space, dressed in costumes; standing in small groups around the edges of the hall, talking, or joining the crowd in the middle of the hall, dancing.

A familiar face emerged from the crowd, making his way over to John.

Stiles’ hair had been coloured with pink on one side and blue on the other, matching the eye shadow that Lydia had put on him. He had tattooed painted on him with eyeliner. He had a thick choker with silver letters spelling out PUDDIN around his neck.

He wore a pair of tight red pleather pants with a studded belt, a jacket that was split in half – one side red and the other blue – and a slightly torn tee-shirt with curved black lettering that read ‘Daddy’s Lil Monster’. The shirt was cropped short and slightly torn at the bottom, revealing a glimpse of Stiles’ toned abs and slender waist. To complete the look, he carried around a foam replica of the baseball bat from Suicide Squad.

“Hey, kiddo,” John greeted.

“I thought chaperones had to dress up too?” Stiles asked, looking his dad up and down.

“I did dress up,” John replied. “I’m a Sheriff.”

Stiles levelled him with an exasperated look.

“Forget about me,” John said, changing the subject. He pointed at Stiles’ costume. “Harley Quinn, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, looking down at himself. “I wanted the more classic red and black look, but this was all they had available.”

“Now, if I remember rightly, that costume was marketed as a couples costume,” John said, looking his son up and down. “So, where’s your Joker?”

“Poison Ivy, actually,” Stiles replied.

“Let me guess… Lydia,” John guessed.

“No,” Stiles answered. “She’s Daphne.”

“Daphne?” John repeated, confused.

“From Scooby Doo,” Stiles explained.

“Allison?”

“She’s Velma,” Stiles answered. “Lydia’s Daphne, Isaac’s Fred, Allison’s Velma, and Scott’s Shaggy—he’s even carrying around a Scooby Doo plushie.”

“Okay, so who’s your Ivy?” John asked. He waved dismissively. “It doesn’t matter—I want a photo of you two, so take me to them.”

“John,” Coach Finstock called out, making his way over to the Sheriff’s side.

Stiles swallowed hard. He turned to Lydia as she stepped up beside him, leaning in close and whispering, “Can you find Derek and give him the heads up; I’m being forced to out him?”

“On it,” Lydia said quietly, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Stiles felt his chest tighten, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt the lump in his throat swell. His heart beat faster as tears began to prick at his eyes.

He looked over his shoulder to see Lydia enter the gym again with Derek by her side.

Derek was dressed in a pair or red pleather pants and a corset-like deep green vest that was embroidered with light green thread in the pattern of ivy leaves with fake leaves of ivy sewn onto it to make it 3D. A vine of fake ivy was coiled around each of his arms, accentuating the curves of his firm biceps.

His sharp cheek bones were highlighted by a soft shade of green that matched the colour of his eye shadow. Lydia had used eyelash glue to stick fake ivy leaves to Derek’s eyebrows and red hair spray to colour his hair.

His face lit up with sweet smile when he saw Stiles.

“I’m so sorry,” Stiles whispered under his breath when Derek reached him.

“It’s okay,” Derek replied, keeping his voice low. “No matter what happens, you’ve still got me.”

Derek looked at him lovingly, his pale aventurine eyes sparkling in the glow of the string lights.

Stiles returned his smile, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

Derek took Stiles’ trembling hand in his own, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Stiles drew in a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He turned back towards his dad just as Coach said goodbye and chased off after a student causing trouble.

“Dad,” Stiles started slowly, his voice tense and anxious. “This is Derek… My boyfriend.”

A look of surprise passed over John’s face as he looked from Stiles to Derek.

Derek offered his a smile, tightening his hold on Stiles’ shaking hand.

John smiled in return.

“You look great, Derek,” he said. “Do you mind if I get a picture of you two?”

“Sure,” Derek said, stepping closer to Stiles’ side.

He saw Stiles’ shoulders drop as he let out a sigh of relief. His hand was still shaking as he held on to Derek.

John dug his phone out of his pocket and quickly took a photo of the two of them. He smiled at them as he lowered his phone. “Thank you.”

“Do you want a drink?” Derek asked them both.

“I’m alright, thank you,” John replied.

“I’d like one please,” Stiles answered.

Derek nodded, giving Stiles’ hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and making his way over to the drinks table.

Stiles felt he sense of dread return, his chest tightening.

“I wanted to tell you…” Stiles said, looking down at his feet. “I was just… I was scared that you’d hate me.”

“Stiles,” John said softly, setting his hand on his son’s shoulder and craning his neck to look Stiles in the eye. “You are my son and I love you, no matter what.”

Glistening tears welled in Stiles’ eyes, lit by the surrounding lights. A weak smile turned up the corner of his mouth.

“How long have you two been together?” John asked.

“About eight months,” Stiles admitted.

“You managed to keep this from me for eight months?” John asked, stunned.

Stiles shrugged.

“I’m happy for you,” John said, smiling as he gently tousled his son’s hair.

“Thanks, dad.”

“Now, go have fun.”

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

A while later, John stepped out of the gym to patrol the halls and the outside of the building to make sure no students were sneaking off to cause trouble. He made his way around the side of the old red brick building and slowed when he saw Stiles sitting outside on a step.

He went to walk forward when he heard the door open and a familiar voice said, “Hey, you okay?”

Stiles turned slightly, smiling as he looked up at Derek.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I just needed a break from the crowd and the music.”

“Do you want some company?” Derek asked hesitantly.

“I’d love some.”

Derek stepped forward, sitting down on the step beside Stiles.

“Sorry I’m not more fun.”

“I’m having plenty of fun just spending time with you,” Derek said. He paused, thinking for a moment. “Do you want to dance?”

“I want to dance, but I just feel so overwhelmed in there,” Stiles admitted.

“Okay,” Derek said, digging into his pocket and fishing out his phone. He scrolled through his music library before picking a song and turning up the volume just a little. It was a slow song with a soft melody.

Derek rose to his feet and held a hand out to Stiles.

Stiles smiled as he took Derek’s hand, letting him pull Stiles to his feet. He pulled him closer, holding Stiles’ hand in his as he set his other hand on Stiles’ hip and began to sway.

Stiles let out a quiet chuckle as he rested his head against Derek’s shoulder, wrapping his arm around Derek’s shoulder as he swayed back and forth, following the sweet melody of the song.

Derek rested his cheek atop Stiles’ head as they danced slowly beneath the light of the back door and the streetlights along the car park.

John couldn’t help but smile as he watched them, a sense of relief filling his chest when he saw the smile on his son’s face.

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

“It’s time to announce the winners of the costume contest,” Natalie Martin announced as Stiles and Derek made their way back into the gym.

The crowd gathered around the small stage that had been set up at the far end of the gym.

“First up; the award for best dressed girl.” Natalie opened the envelope and read the name, “Supergirl; Erica Reyes.”

The crowd applauded as Erica made her way up onto the stage.

Natalie handed her a bouquet of flowers and a certificate.

Erica thanked her before making her way off stage.

“Next up, the award for best dressed boy goes to…” Natalie opened the next envelope. “The gladiator; Danny Mahealani.”

The crowd cheered again as Danny – shirtless and dressed as a gladiator – stepped up onto the stage to receive his certificate and flowers.

“And now for the best dressed group,” Natalie continued once Danny had joined the crowd again. “The best dressed group goes to—” She opened the envelope. “—the Scooby Doo gang; Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, and Scott McCall.”

The crowd cheered loudly as they made their way up onto the stage to receive their certificates and flowers.

They made their way down off the stage and Natalie picked up another envelope.

A buzz of confused chatter filled the room.

“And a last minute addition,” Natalie said. “The award for the best couples costume goes to—” She opened the envelope. “—Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy; Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale.”

The crowd roared with applause. A few people let out sharp wolf whistles.

Stiles bowed his head, trying to hide his blush.

Derek reached out and took his hand, leading the way through the crowd and up to the stage.

They made their way up the small flight of stairs and across the stage, accepting the certificates that read ‘Best Dressed Couple’ with their names written beneath the elegantly typed title and a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers.

Stiles smiled sweetly, sticking close to Derek as the crowd’s applause grew louder.

They made their way off stage and over to where Lydia, Isaac, Allison and Isaac stood.

Lydia bounded over to Stiles’ side, wrapping her arms around him as she congratulated him. Scott gave Derek a half-hug before hugging Stiles.

Stiles’ face was lit with a bright smile. He turned to face Derek, stepping closer to him and leaning against his side.

John couldn’t help but smile as he watched them—watched how happy his son was, watched the way his eyes lit up as he looked at Derek lovingly. He couldn’t help but feel happy for his son.

#sterek #sterek fanfiction #sterek fanfic #sterek fic #sterek au #sterek high school au #sterek high school dance au #sterek dance au #sterek halloween au #sterek halloween #harley quinn!stiles #poison ivy!derek #ivy!derek #sterek costumes #sterek halloween costumes #check the tags on ao3 #sorry it's late

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eulohani · 4 years

Photo

⟨ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐓𝐈 𝐑𝐀𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐍. 𝐂𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄. 𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐇𝐄𝐑 ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐈 is actually a descendent of Λ P Ή Я Ө D I Ƭ Σ. it’s still a question of whether or not the 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 year old 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐎𝐑 from 𝐒𝐘𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀 has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 & 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄.

HELLO, i am just going to keep adding to this buttt it will be a bunch of rambly bullet points bc that’s what i’m best at, but this is my favorite muse noor, my baby demon, i’d love to plot over at lil leo#1807 on discord !!!

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 / 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵

full name: noor jade lohani pronunciation: nôr jeid low-han-ee meaning of name:

noor — divine light jade — after the stone, representing wisdom, clarity, justice & courage

aliases: tbd age: 23 date of birth: july 23rd, 1997. place of birth: sydney, australia zodiac sign: leo sun / taurus rising / scorpio moon species: demigod race: bengali nationality: australian gender: cisfemale sexuality: bisexual profession: streamer

height: 4′11 weight: 115 lbs eyes: grey hair: deep black build: athletic petite voice: raspy & comforting, almost musical, hint of an australian accent traits: both of her ears are fully pierced, nostril & nippies, red dragon tattoo on her hand along with a few minimalist ones on her fingers, garlic bread on her left upper butt cheek, louise bunny ears just above her elbow on the back of her bicep ( w vincent having a linda one ), matching tattoos with scarlett ( the sun ), a mural full back tattoo

education: art history major. literacy: 99.5% languages: french, latin, bengali, greek. disorders: N/A. habits: biting her lip, toying with her necklaces, not able to stay still.

positive: self confident, adventurous, fearless, loyal. neutral: curious, determined, protective. negative: flighty, private, manipulative, messy.

moral alignment: chaotic netural jung: ENFP enneagram: primary is eight four temperaments: sanguine tropes: spoiled brat, the final girl, damsel out of distress, dragon lady, fangirl, rose with thorns archetypes: the rebel tarot cards: the sun, the lovers, the empress, page of wands, ace of cups, seven of swords, nine of pentacles

compassion: 5/10. empathy: 7/10. creativity: 8/10. mental flexibility: 7/10. passion: 10/10. stamina: 9/10. physical strength: 8/10. battle skill: 10/10. agility: 10/10. strategy: 10/10. teamwork: 7/10. charisma: 9/10. reflexes: 9/10. willpower: 7/10. luck: 6/10.

𝐁𝐈𝐎 / background

noor was born to a very, very rich father who didn’t often pay attention to her but did make sure she was always occupied with something other than his time. she didn’t mind, never resenting he dad for it rather seeing it as a better deal in life for her

she was always taught to defend herself though, that was something her father was always ridiculously adamant about. noor took a lot of classes outside of school, physical and mental

when she found out who her mother really was, she understood why — and she often wished she had more fear than her father did. or even matched his own, slowly becoming more distant from him, feeling like a secret was hidden from her that could of been told long before she was ready to leave for camp

in school she didn’t really have friends outside of social events, so she confided in her studies and random lore she was interested in. this is when she actually became encapsulated in where she truly came from, her mother’s history, trying to find a way to reach the goddess but always falling flat in her efforts

after losing trust in not only her parents, but what she knew to be friends, she became more defensive over herself for truly anything, sometimes so much it drove her insane

her mother finally came to claim her at thirteen, when happened upon a monster encounter that was too close to write off as a mere side affect. at first, noor was pissed, wondering why she hadn’t come for her earlier. in true aphrodite fashion, she barely gave her much answer but ultimatum and matching her ferocity. when she left for camp it almost felt like an escape, the one place she belonged & felt like she could relate to somebody. realizing there was nothing else for her, she stayed

noor adjusted immediately to campus, her major coming as easy as her tie to her mother, always wanting to pursue something other than general education in high school

in the security of campus lines, she felt as if she had no reason to feel normal ever again, or like she had to meet other’s standards. she did everything she could to find quests, commit herself to her destiny as a demigod

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 / tid bits

absolutely effortlessly candid, noor is really see through when it comes to her emotions. she can’t hide things, but often that’s one of her downfalls

such a people person, she often knows someones deepest secrets when first meeting them because she gives off an extremely comforting energy

wears & makes body jewelry, often on her waist / sternum / thighs: x

has trouble being wrong >:(

she loves to LEARN !!!!!

loyal yet selfish and Annoying

nature wh*re

loves to make people feel good but if she yells at you bc she thinks you need it that’s your fault

MAYB intimidating ?? sometimes... yes

very 90s with her style, little tops big pants, little braids in her hair, necklaces always stacking gold on her neck

big ol’ nerd, has gone to hella conventions, streams on the lowkey probably has a tik tok w hella followers strictly bc of that

4′11

has made it her basic life mission to be apart of as many quests as possible, has only gotten one of her own but noor has charmspeaked her way to accompany more than a few demigods on theirs

sports duel daggers: x

brat brat brat brat

v traveled, v into film and such

smells like lemons and honey

noor has SOME sort of beef with every one of her sisters ( she is her mother’s daughter )

insecure lowkey

alexa play harry styles golden

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐄𝐒 | 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐒

#euintro

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eastonadler · 4 years

Photo

Hi everyone! I’m Eliza and I’m bringing in Easton Adler. I’ve love to plot and get connections for him so feel free to message me at elizaaaaaa#0191 on discord or IM’s on here! @tupeloextras

► basics; Full Name: Easton James Adler Age: 36 Birthday: May 22, 1984 Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Occupation: Veterinarian @ Paw + Claws Animal Center Place of Birth: Tupelo, MS Education: Notheastern University

► physical;

Faceclaim: Chris Evans Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Brown Height: 6′1 Weight: 190 Tattoos, Birthmarks, Scars, etc: A bull on his right bicep for his mother.

► relatives;

Father’s Name: David Adler Father’s Status: Left Easton and his mother when he was 5. Could be anywhere. Father’s Occupation: We don’t care. Mother’s Name: Mary Adler Mother’s Status: Alive and well. Mother’s Occupation: Theatre director at the local Theatre and Arts department. Siblings: N/A

► relationships;

Ex-Significant Other(s): Lou Dunn for 2 years in high school, Leila Brady for 4 years in college. Reason for Separation: Distance, unwilling to compromise. Current Significant Other: N/A What They Look For In Others: Someone understanding and thoughtful. Patient and willing to give him space when he needs it. Spontaneous and out there, to push his limits.

► personality;

Positive Traits: Smart, kind, good listener. Negative Traits: Tough on himself, a bit judgemental, a lil grumpy at times.

► misc;

Hobbies: Reading, journalling, photography. First Book They Read: Oh, the Places You’ll Go by Dr. Seuss. Favorite Book: On the Road by Jack Kerouac Favorite Music Artist: Elton John Favorite Subject: English Pets: A boxer breed named Bruno Habits: Grinding his teeth and picking his nails

Easton was born and raised in Tupelo. When he was 5, his father left one night for groceries and never came back.

Despite growing up without his dad, Easton rose to the role of being the man of the house and took care of his mother best he could.

His mother worked hard to make sure he never wanted for anything. Paying for school sports like baseball so he wouldn’t feel left out.

Easton got along with mostly everyone though, flitting between different social groups throughout school.

After he finished 3rd grade, he was approached by his teacher to take an aptitude test. He scored in the high percentile and started taking coursework that was grades above him.

Continuing to take higher courses allowed him to still stay in the same grade as his friends, something his mother was adamant about.

Easton applied to a handful of colleges in state and a few further away with his mother’s encouragement. Once the full ride to Northeastern came, it was a no brainer for the two.

In college, Easton met Leila. She was a Boston native and they hit it off.

Throughout the next 4 years, Leila became the second most important person in his life, next to his mother who adored her. They traveled back to Tupelo every holiday to spend the break with her.

The two broke up just before graduation. She didn’t want to leave Boston and Easton needed to be with his mother. They both realized that if it was meant to be, maybe they’d find their way back to each other.

Once back in Tupelo, Easton interned at Paws + Claws to gain experience before taking on the role full time.

After his first day on the job, Easton adopted Bruno, a mixed breed boxer.

He lives in a small one bedroom house within walking distance of his mama with his dog Bruno.

#intro.

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yeetingmyfeeling · 4 years

Text

A Rose Tattoo

Chapter Nine

It has been two weeks since Sirius and Remus’ date. They had been texting each other nearly every day. The only time they saw each other though, was on Monday’s when Remus delivered the flowers.

Remus can safely say he likes Sirius.

This is a problem for him though, for many reasons. Mary still likes Sirius. Remus is still a werewolf.

Said Mary, was currently trying to convince everyone to go book a tattoo. Lily was hesitant, but her own boyfriend had been convincing her. Oh yeah, Lily and James are dating now. They have been together for a week.

Jake was all for getting a tattoo, as he already has a few of his own. Marlene agreed, as she had been thinking about it for awhile.

Remus, wasn’t sure. At all. If he was to get one, he had the idea of it being over his bite mark.

“Guys,” Mary whined. “I don’t want matching tattoos, just people to get tattoos with.”

“You do have other friends, don’t you?” Remus was still very against the idea of a tattoo.

Lily elbowed Remus. “Look, if we close up early, go over and see your boyfriend and possibly plan tattoos. Will you be happy?”

Remus didn’t know if that was directed at him, or Mary. Probably Mary, Sirius would never go for someone like him. A werewolf.

“Yes!” Mary cheered.

So they did just that. They closed half an hour early, Remus complaining the whole time, then the five made their way across the street to the tattoo parlor.

“Lily!” James greeted as soon as they walked in through the door.

“There are other people with me James,” Lily raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Hello.”

“How can I help you guys today?” James asked.

“We want to get tattoos!” Mary grinned. “Well, except for some Mr. Grumpy.”

James laughed. “Are you getting one too Lily?”

“I think I might,” Lily nodded. “I’m young, time to do something crazy.”

“This is her first act of teenage rebellion,” Remus pointed out. “At the age of twenty.”

“At least she’s getting a tattoo,” Jake jabbed.

“Stop bullying Remus,” Remus was going to marry Marlene. She continued, “Maybe he’s scared of needles, or self-conscious.”

“Remus!” A voice was heard. He looked up and Sirius was walking towards the group with a grin. Remus smiled tightly.

“Then he’s just a pussy.” Mary said. She then turned, batting her eyelashes at Sirius and starting to flirt.

Remus’ jaw clicked. “Fine, I’ll get a fucking tattoo,” He grumbled, stepping up to James at the counter. “Lets book these bloody appointments.”

“Are you sure?” James asked, concerned. Remus just nodded. “Alright,” He sighed. “It just so happens, we are free all tomorrow afternoon, and we have everyone on. So we can do three people at a time, then two.”

“That works,” Lily came and stood by Remus’ side, grabbing his hand in hers. “We good with that?” Everyone else chorused a yes.

James smiled at Lily. He handed over a couple of folders. “These are some tattoo ideas, look through them. If you already have an idea, just show us.”

So the five each grabbed a folder and sat down in the chairs at the front.

Mary was currently talking Sirius’ ear off.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Lily asked, getting Remus’ attention.

“Not really, but You Only Live Once, right?” Remus shrugged.

“This is a permanent thing on your body.”

“My body is already covered in scars, I’m sure a tattoo won’t change that.”

“What if you end up hating it?”

“Did you just hear what I said? My body is already covered in scars.”

“Yes, but-”

“Lily! I’m doing this.”

“Okay…”

They both went quiet. Lily felt bad for pushing her friend. She understood where he was coming from, but a tattoo is a serious thing, and he was just peer pressured into doing it.

Remus was just sick of being the precious golden boy. Maybe a tattoo wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he will finally have something on his body he liked.

After 20 minutes, everyone had decided what tattoo they were going to get.

Mary had decided on a rose tattoo, just ender her left breast.

“Is there a meaning behind it?” Lily asked.

“I work in a flower show with my best friends,” Mary has answered. “Plus they are pretty.”

“What about the placement?” Marlene judged.

“No one except for someone special will see it,” Mary winked at Sirius.

Remus nearly gagged. He would not remember the last time he found the girl so insufferable. Yet here he is, wanting to push her over. Straight people, he would say.

Marlene was going to get three butterflies across her right hip. One for her mum, one for her dad, and one for her brother. Those were understandable.

Jake was going to get an old fashioned bike on his bicep for his late father. That was also understandable.

Lily was going to get two little birds on the side of her right wrist. When asked what the meaning was for, she simply said something important.

Remus settled on a much bigger piece. It would be a tattoo with two flowers that rested on the spot between his neck and his shoulder. Then leaves would come out from it, and one little flower will come up and stop just below his ear.

“That's really big,” Mary commented.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Lily asked.

“Yes,” Was all Remus said.

So they booked their appointments. Jake, Mary and Marlene would go first. Mary had Sirius, Jake had Peter and Marlene had Alyce. Remus and Lily would be after. Lily had Alyce, and Remus had Sirius.

~~~

Marlene walked in the shop, last of the three to get her tattoo. It was beautiful. Each butterfly had their own unique look, and the gleamed beautifly on her hip.

Remus was in his office going through some paperwork. He was practically chewing his lip off while bouncing his leg erratically. He was nervous. Not only is he about to get a tattoo, but this means Sirius is going to have to see his bite mark. That scares him the most.

Lily knocked on his door then came in. She sat in the chair opposite him.

“Your lip is bleeding.”

“Oh,” Remus licked his tongue, tasting blood. He grabbed a tissue, pressing it to his lip.

“You know, my tattoo that I’m getting?” She began talking. “It’s us. We’ve been friends since the start of high school. You are my best friend, we’ve been through so much, so as weird as this may sound, I wanted a piece of you with me all the time.”

“That’s really sweet Lily. Thank you, I hope you won’t regret it.”

“I don’t think I ever could, even on the days you are a git.”

“Well those days are never, so.”

She smiled at him. She looked over his features, eyes lingering on the scars on his face a little too long.

“Are you sure you want this tattoo Remus?”

“I’m sure.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“And you are comfortable with Sirius seeing your… mark?”

“Not really, but..”

“Wanna know a funny thing I heard?”

“Lily, what on merlin are you on?”

“Marlene likes Sirius. She just told me, then Mary overheard. Mary ran off, Marlene going after her. Don’t know what’s going to happen there.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Jake is closing up the shop for us. He said it’s fine, and if he needs to stay late he doesn’t mind.”

“Okay… Lily what are you-?”

“Come on, it’s time to go. Our appointments are in five minutes.”

That was that. Remus was too confused to say anything else, and Lily just held a smile on her face. They bid goodbye to Jake and walked across the street.

“Lil-”

“Remus!”

James greeting for his girlfriend was cut off from Sirius’ greeting for Remus.

“Hi,” Remus grinned shyly.

Sirius grinned back. He led the boy over to his work station, getting him to sit down on the chair. Once Remus had sat, Sirius showed him the stencil.

“I love it,” Was Remus’ response. “It’s… beautiful.”

“And it will look even better on you,” Was Sirius’ quick response. “Now, I will need you to get rid of the shirt.”

Remus bit his lip. His heart started racing. He didn’t want to, but he wanted this tattoo, and if he was to think about being with Sirius. This is something he has to see.

Remus bit down his anxiety, barley, and slowly took off his shirt, placing it in his lap. He heard a gasp.

Remus looked up, seeing Sirius stare at his body. James who stood behind him with Lily also starred.

“Remus, we barely know each other but shit,” James breathed. “Where did you get those from?”

“I had a rough childhood..” Remus said quietly. “And just, life..”

James went to say something else but Lily held up her hand.

“James, can’t you see, he’s really not happy,” Lily gestured to her best friends.

James looked from Lily to Remus. “Sorry.. Rich asshole thing.”

Remus just waved him off. The two walked away and went over to Alyce’s station.

Sirius stepped closer to Remus. His eyes trailed along every scar of Remus’ body, staring longer at the very clear bite mark on Remus’ shoulder, before looking into his eyes.

“I was attacked by a dog,” Remus quickly said, which wasn’t a lie. “It- it was really big.”

Sirius just smiled. “You don’t need to explain to me. What shoulder was it on?”

Remus pointed to his bite marked shoulder. Sirius told him to lay down on his stomach.

Sirius started by cleaning off the area, and shaving away some small hairs. He did a test first, to see if Remus could handle the pain. He could.

So Sirius started tattooing.

The pain wasn’t bad, Remus thought. It was nothing like the pain of turning into a werewolf, Remus didn’t think anything could ever feel that bad. The feeling of the needle wasn’t pleasant, but, it is not the worst pain he has felt so it was tolerable.

Halfway through Remus’ tattoo, Lily’s was done. She walked over while both boys were having a ten minute break and showed Remus her tattoo. It was just two small blue birds, sitting on a little brown branch on her wrist. She loved it, and so did Remus.

She asked if he wanted her to stay, but he was fine. So Lily left, helping Jake finnish closing up.

Then Sirius came back and they continued the tattoo.

“After this,” Sirius wiped away some ink. “Would you like to come over for a bit? We are having a game night.”

“Sure,” Remus smiled to himself. “I would love to.”

~~~

The tattoo was finally done, and Remus loved it. It stood out against his skin, made him look sharper, but he was in love with it.

He continued to thank Sirius, who just blushed. True to Sirius’ word, he gave Remus a discount, even though Remus wanted to play full price. Then, Remus joined Sirius and James to their house, Peter meeting up with them.

They were in a game of Monopoly. Peter was the banker. James was in the lead, Sirius not far behind him. Remus was very, very broke.

James and Peter got up to get drinks, leaving Sirius and Remus to talk to themselves for a bit.

“Remus,” Sirius looked at the boy, looking nervous. “I- I’ve been meaning to tell you something?”

Remus tilted his head. “What is it?”

Sirius took in a shaky breath. “I really like you, and- and I want to do something about it.”

Anxiety hit Remus like a brick. This is what he wanted, he likes Sirius too! BUt something felt wrong, felt off. He just let Sirius see him shirtless, why is he feeling like this.

“You can’t,” Stumbled out of Remus’ lips. Sirius looked at him in shock. “I won’t be good for you.”

“What do you mean?” And oh god Sirius already sounded broken. “I thought you felt the same.”

“I- I do but we just couldn’t work out,” Remus shook his head. “It won’t go well.”

“If you like me back then why are you rejecting me!?” Sirius didn’t understand, he could never.

“I’m a monster!” Remus settled with. “I won’t be good for you, I- I’ll fuck you up, and ruin you, and- and I can’t have that. Try Mary, Mary likes you. Or even Marlene, apparently she really likes you.”

Sirius stared at him. They hadn’t even known each other for that long, why was he so upset?

It ended up being too long, check the link!

#remus and sirius #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #lily evans #james potter #peter pettigrew #florist #flower shop #tattooist #tattoo parlour #harry potter #harry potter universe #harry potter au

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deathcvrse · 5 years

Text

intro : mason giordano .

◟ * ◊ ─ dylan o'brien + cis male + he/him » * believe it or not mason giordano is working for the bianchi family . they are 27 years of age and are known to usually spend their time around body cult : tatto & piercing studio . the hitman , who has been a part of the alliance for 10 years , has been living in victoria his entire life . the people closest to them describe the bisexual scorpio to be + kind and + trustworthy as well as - cold and - selfish◝

hello everyone , so excited to bring you guys mason !! i also play enrique . a lil bit about me - i’m lorena , 19 & from spain (cest timezone) and i’m pretty much obsessed with video games . if ya got any questions in regards to my muses , or have ideas for connections don’t hesitate in messaging me !! i do have discord , if you’d like to plot over there - but i’m also fine with tumblr ims . anyways if ya wanna plot and stuff give this a like !!

GENERAL BACKGROUND + A FEW FACTS . TRIGGER WARNING: SUBSTANCE ABUSE , DEATH . - mason is originally from naples , italy , but moved to victoria when he was just a few months old . this is due to his father successfully landing a h-1b visa at a well known IT business . throughout his childhood mason lived with both of his parents , his siblings and his grandmother until he was sixteen . - it was no secret that the marriage between his parents was unstable , constant fighting - would not only lead his mother to become an alcoholic but also to having an affair with benito mancini . soon after , she would become pregnant and give birth to his first half brother , rocco mancini . a divorce would be filed , and his mother rosaline would marry benito shortly after . two years later she’d give birth to another son . - with his mother leaving at the age of 6 to be with another man , mason was left alone with his father . while mason missed his mother , he felt as if she preferred his younger siblings over himself . perhaps it had to do with how similar the younger boy looked to his father ?? - overtime he’d see the loving figure of his father morph into a monster . the heartbreak of losing his wife , mixed with the feeling of guilt , would soon lead to substance abuse . what would start with a one or two lines of coke a week , would turn his father into an addict . - at the age of fifteen , mason would lose his father . a bullet between his brows would be the indication of a murder . it was no secret that giovanni giordano had spent all his fortune in drugs . the death of his father would be what would push mason’s mother over the edge . continuously questioning why she never took mason in with her , and what he had to endure as a kid would be what caused her alcoholism to worsen . she’d soon be in and out of rehab . - shortly after the murder of his father , mason’s nan would win custody over him . he would be given a choice , to live with his nan or his mother , but a part of him refused to live with his stepfather and siblings . - due to the financial issues mason’s grandmother struggled with he joined the alliance . while he started of as a pawn , not even a year in he’d change positions and become a hitman . - overtime mason would slowly stop contacting his mother . he’d be hit with the feeling of guilt after her death in a drunk driving accident . the same year or her death mason would lose his grandmother to cancer .

GENERAL STATS . - name : mason giordano . - nicknames : mg , giordano , tba . - age : 27 . - sexuality : bisexual . - birthday : october 30th . - position within the alliance : the hitman - scars : caused by weapons - one across the front of his neck , one on his abdomen . accidents - after breaking his wrist , when he was 13 he needed surgery , thus a scar that goes from his wrist slightly down to his forearm . - piercings : current : 2 rings on his left ear cartilage . past : eyebrow piercing . - tattoos : a perfect rose encompassed by flames with esmerelda’s signature inked onto his back . a small cross inked onto the side of his right thumb . medusa inked onto his right shoulder with a snake embracing his upper arm , slowly connecting to this piece which is also inked onto his upper arm . mason has a sailboat that is embraced by snakes , inked onto the inside of his bicep on his right arm . one can see a set of mermaids on that piece . on the right side of his right wrist he has a small moon . said snakes slowly travel down his skin until they reach his forearm , where they meet the inked piece of michelangelo’s david , slowly surrounding the perfect figure . on the back of his right arm he has written ‘dead end’ in bold capital letters right above his elbow . on his left arm , mason wears half a sleeve , where inked trees cover his forearm .GG inked onto the back of his neck sitting in between two wings , representing his grandmother’s initials . a small heart inked in the space between his collarbones and ‘ breathe ’ written out vertically in small capital letters on the side of his neck , each letter is spaced out . he has ‘ la pura verita ’ inked right below that same heart .

WANTED CONNECTIONS . - anyone he knows from high school . 0/? - anyone from the bianchi family he has close ties with . 0/3 - someone he gets his drugs from , a specific dealer maybe ?? 0/2 - a hitman he sees like a brother / sister . basically someone who understands how shit it is having to do the job . 0/2 - a drinking buddy , maybe they just hang out to drink their sorrows idk 0/2 - a partying buddy - yes , someone he simply goes and gets pissed with for the sake of having fun 0/2 - friends , frenemies , enemies . 0/? - past hook ups . 0/? this is self explanatory . mason does hook up with strangers here and there , but it could’ve also been a mate or someone he doesn’t get along with ?? ya never know . - ex girlfriend , see wc page on the main 0/1 .

#victoireintro

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mascaracoffee · 5 years

Text

Lil Minnow (Arthur Curry/ Aquaman Imagine)

I have not been able to go see Aquaman due to studying for boards so keep that in mind if something is off-script. Let me know what you think I have a part 2 in mind if yall like it.

No warnings- slight cursing

A gasp scratched past my parched lips, resting eyes flying open frantically scanning my surroundings as my chest ached, eager for my heart to return to normal rhythm versus its current erratic state in my throat. Light split the dark sky outside my window drawing my attention to the thunder rumbling amongst the ominous clouds that raged with the firepower of rain. The Atlantic an eerie, swirling mass of dark ink highlighted with harsh, angry waves tipped in foams of white as the wind danced along its surface.

’11:15’

Glowed back at me from my desk across the room, reminding me I had only fallen asleep half an hour ago before being jolted awake by the thunder I assume. Begrudgingly I kicked the blankets off my bare legs and sat straight, grounding my palms into my eyes in annoyance.

Thud.

I peaked over my fingers to my closed door as the sound vibrated through the house. My foggy, sleep brain was slow processing the possibilities, maybe the wind?

Thud. Thud.

I stood from my bed and softly opened the door. The cabin was dark, soft shadows dancing through the windows creating softer grey shapes amongst the walls as the danced with the storm outside. My bare feet took the steps one by one, being careful to skip over the one that creaked obnoxiously, number 14 on my ‘at home to do list’ that seemed to be ever growing.

Once I reached the landing I peeked around the corner into my kitchen, all seemed to be in place.

THUD

My body jumped at the much louder disturbance just to the right of me. Stepping into the dining room I released a sigh at the root of my problem; swaying back and forth on their hinges, my French doors stood agape, rain and wind spluttering inside from the gaping opening to the outside. I skidded against the wet wood floors and managed to latch the doors shut before I glared down at the mess at my feet.

After drenching three towels, I tossed the laundry into the bin and trudged back up the stairs to my room stretching my neck of the stress settling in my bones.

“bout time”

My body jolted and a scream left my lips as my body registered the tall, muscled frame standing before my window.

“Easy lil bit”

The voice chuckled catching my small fist as it swung through the air aimed at the perp. They stepped forward a chuckle falling past their smirk and a beer, no doubt from my fridge, in their hand.

“Jesus Arthur” I sighed releasing the tension in my body as I fell into his bare chest “you scared me to hell and back.”

“Sorry doll” he mumbled using his much larger hand to guide my face up to his. His lips were tart with salt and his hair held the grit of the ocean as I explored him, desperate to get reacquainted with the man I missed so much.

Arthur set his beer bottle aside, now devoting both his hands to my body slipping beneath my sleep shirt. A whine escaped my lips as he jostled us, pulling me up his frame to wrap my legs around his trim, tattooed waist, a hand moving back to caress my head the other firm around my waist .

I got lost in his kiss, savoring the taste of sea salt and beer that embodied Arthur’s persona so perfectly. His lips left mine to pepper kisses along my neck, his beard tickling the sensitive skin creating goosebumps in their wake. Suddenly, I was dropped onto my bed, Arthur’s body still entwined with mine, his bulging biceps straining as they caught his weight as to not crush me.

“You left the door open downstairs” I gasped, tangling my fingers into his thick, mane as he latched onto my throat. “bout broke my damn neck on the wet floor.” Arthur lightly bit my flesh in response.

“You really want to talk right now” Arthur growled, grounding his core between my legs.

I pulled his lips back to mine in response the kiss rough and desperate as we both shed our remaining clothes.

Arthur’s arm was tight around my waist as his free hand swirled affectionately against my ribs, my nose tucked into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“So how are things down below?” I mumbled, running my leg along his beneath the covers.

“Good” Arthur nodded, the tone in his voice coated with hope “Finally getting things in order.”

“But still bad enough to have to keep me a secret?” I whispered, focusing my gaze on a particular pattern in Arthur’s tattoo.

Arthur’s chest rose and fell with the heavy breath he released.

“Its complicated” Arthur began with a shake of his head, raking a hand through is hair “Even now there are some that still think like Orm did, hate the surface world and everyone in it. I don’t want to-“

“Put you in danger” our voices echoed together, having heard this time and time again since Arthur’s return to Atlantis. I blinked back the tears that burned my vision “I know, I just miss you is all.”

Arthur sighed sadly “I miss you too sweetheart” he pressed a kiss into my hair “more than you can imagine.

I bite my lip and sat up out of Arthur’s embrace as the tears began to slip down my cheeks, the tightness in my throat constricting my air.

I stood, yanking on a t-shirt and loose shorts prepared to escape downstairs when Arthur’s arms trapped me to him.

“Hey, hey” he soothed tucking my hair behind my ear “What’s going on?”

I shook my head, my hand covering my mouth to keep my tears at bay.

“Hey look at me” Arthur ordered in a soft but stern voice. Our eyes met. “Talk to me, what wrong?”

“Atlantis” I spat out, the city’s name tasting like vinegar in my mouth. “After all you’ve done, how much you’ve proved yourself worthy of being king and there’re still those that are blinded by hatred. That they would hate me, they would hate-“

I turned away cupping my mouth to keep a sob, or bile, at bay.

“Babe,” he said softly pulling me to his chest. “Where’s this coming from?”

I steadied my breathing, my eyes tracing over the intricate pattern adorning his abdomen, taking my time to focus on the ink work and steady my breathing before I reached his eyes.

“I’m pregnant”

Moments passed, Arthur’s eyes grew in size as he stared at me. I could almost see the wheels turning in his brain.

“Please” I begged my voice breaking as I reached for one of his hands in hope for a response “Please say something.”

“Say it again.”

I blinked up at him in confusion as he squeezed my hand in return, prompting me once more.

“Say it again?”

I reached for both his hands, placing them on my lower abdomen on the firm bulge that could have passed as the result of an all you can eat taco bar.

“I’m pregnant, Arthur.”

I had to blink rapidly, blinded by the large, white smile that broke out over Arthur’s tan face.

“Pregnant! When did you find out? How far are you? Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” he spluttered out questions one after another as he fell to his knees, face level with my stomach.

“I found out about a month ago, after your last visit. I’m about 10 weeks.”

His grin looked as if it would split his face in two, his eyes shining through slithers as his cheeks crinkled around his eyes. He gently pulled up my tshirt and lowered the waistband of the shortss, he took a moment and just gazed at my belly. Gently, he pressed his lips to my navel repeatedly before he looked back at me and stood straight, his hands remaining on my stomach.

“I love you” he beamed pressing his lips to mine feverishly. “I love you, I love you!”

Arthur tightened his arms around my waist before lifting me from the floor and spinning me his laugh booming off the walls in joy.

“We’re gonna be parents!” my feet found the floor again “Baby you’re gonna be a mama and I’m gonna be a dad, I mean a cool dad, not an embarrising-”

He studied my face his expression falling slightly at my lack of excitement.

“Why aren’t you thrilled about this?” Arthur chuckled awkwardly “Baby you’re pregnant! We’re gonna have a baby! You and me!”

“That’s what I’m scared about” I admitted pulling away from his grasp “Atlantis will hate our baby, just because they came from me! Think of how they saw you and you’re half Atlantian. They basically exiled you, your own people because you were different! What will they do when they find out your heir is only a quarter Atlantian? You said so yourself the council was pushing for you to marry, Atlantis is gonna want a full blood as their leader, not my baby! “

My face served as the battleground of my emotion, tear-stained and flushed with a trembling bottom lip. My arms ghosting around my abdomen protectively as my gut twisted sickeningly at the thought of anyone hurting my child emotionally or physically, especially my child’s own people.

“Sweetheart,” Arthur said softly stepping toward me, his expression torn and dejected. He hated seeing my cry, he always voiced it when I cried over The Notebook, in that situation Arthur knew what to do; cuddle me with beer and pizza before we ended the night in the bedroom. But this? Arthur woulnd’t have a clue how to fix this.

I stepped into his open embrace, allowing what was left of my guard to crumble. I cried softly into his chest as he held me tight, his fingers running along my spine soothingly. The tips of my fingers curved into the cords of muscle in his back, desperatly clinging to him. Once I wept the last of my tears, Arthur pulled me back to lock eyes.THe swirls of blue and gold were lit with emotion; determination and devotion.

“Do you trust me?”

I nodded dumbly, afraid to speak in fear that my voice would break. And I did. I had known Arthur for most of my life. We grew up together on the water, his father a lighthouse keeper mine a fisherman. When the rest of our classmates pointed and made fun of us, Arthur especially, we would reciprocate by spending our time swimming with dolphins and playing tag with fish, I trust him and his gift with my life. When Arthur took his throne, I trusted he would come back for me and forsake all others in my absence, he did that.

“Then trust that I will do everything in my power to protect you, both of you.” He ended the comment pressing his palm to the small swell of my belly. “Atlantis has changed and for the better, they will be more welcoming of my heir than you would think.” Arthur smiled affectionately. “They will love you both, how could they not?”

“Arthur” I shook my head “Atlantis doesn’t even know about me! The council told you to keep me a secret because they were afraid of how the people would react for this very reason, I don’t think Atlantis would be ready for a ruler with any less Atlantian blood. How are they gonna handle the news their now beloved king is sneaking out at night to warm the bed of a land walker” I sniffed “And besides you said so yourself, there’s still those that openly hate the surface. What do you think they would do to our child?”

Arthur’s face fell at my question as if he had forgotten about the rotten apples poisoning his tree. From the stories I had heard, I had no doubt those with ill intent toward the surface would have no moral dilemma in ridding Atlantis of anyone with surface blood.

“Not a damn thing that’s what. All the more reason for me to beat their asses out of Atlantis” Arthur growled, pulling me back towards the bed. “I don’t want you thinking about any of that. Its not good for the baby.”

“Oh so now you’re an expert Mr. ‘I’ve known I’ll be a dad all of five minutes.’?”

I smiled adoringly up at him.

“Details, details” Arthur scoffed pulling my body to his under the covers.

We lay side by side, legs intertwined, his hand on my belly as he tucked my head under his chin. With Arthur wrapped around me I felt all my earlier worries melt away, I knew Arthur would do everything in his power to ensure our safety. God, how I wish he could stay above water a little longer.

“I don’t want you to worry sweetheart” Arthur’s voice rumbled through his chest “I’m gonna have someone keeping an eye on you all the time. No one is gonna touch you or our lil minnow.”

I chuckled at the nickname as we casually talked about our baby. What would they look like? What would we name them? Who would they grow up to be?

When I opened my eyes the darkness of night was kissing the warm oranges and yellows of the morning as the sun and moon shared the sky for the briefest moment. I stretched my arms out only to be met with a cool bed. My eyes snapped out the window toward the ocean to see the lone figure walking along the beach toward the water. His broad shoulders stark against the rising sun, as he reached the lapping water he paused and seemed to turn his head and look directly at me. After a sorrowful moment, the body turned back toward the water and began to descend into the depths and within a blink of an eye, his body had disappeared from view and back to the world below like so many times before. Another night hid away between us.

I sighed heavily already missing Arthur. As I fell back into the bed I felt crumpling beneath my head. I retrieved the crumpled note with scratchy handwriting.

‘I’ll be back soon. Take care of yourself lil mama and the minnow. Love you both so much.

-Arthur

I gently reached down and cupped the small bump, rubbing my thumb along it soothingly.

“I guess its just you and me for a little while minnow.”

Let me know what you think! Part 2, maybe?

#arthur curry #arthur curry imagine #aquaman #aquaman imagine #jason momoa #jason momoa imagine #dc comics #justice league

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paintedface · 6 years

Text

The Ink of My Heart

Summary: Prompt 51 for @rotisserierogers ‘s writing challenge: A tattoo artist gives clients tattoos that determine their fate

Pairing: Tattoo Artist/Alchemist!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2824 Words

Warnings: Fluff, angst in the form of physical pain and being scared

Notes: This is pretty cute, but I’m so sleepy that I dunno anymore ahaha, sorry this is late Kumi!

Permanent Tags are OPEN | masterlist

“Nattie, I’m fucking terrified. Is this even legal?” You’re gripping her hand so tight that you’re sure that you’re crushing her bones.

She gives you a withering look, before pulling up her sleeve. “It works, every time, guaranteed. Look at mine. Perfectly passive, and it’s gotten me my dream job and boyfriend.”

Your eyes linger over the highly detailed tattoo on her bicep, before looking back up at her. “You sure that this guy won’t use his…tattoo powers to murder me?”

She snorts, leaning against the brick wall. “He’s not allowed to do that, he doesn’t know what he’s casting but they can’t involve death or illness. Well…maybe illness, but there’ll be a good outcome. He sort of has a selection of objects, and you choose them, and they’re meant to influence your tattoo’s meaning. People don’t know what they’re getting, but in the end, it’ll be something that they’ve wanted for a while.”

“Do you know how sketchy that sounds?” You cross your arms, heart running wild with panic and oh shit this is a horrible idea isn’t it-

“Shut up, you’ll be fine,” Nat snatches your hand and marches you towards the door of the building, “you can’t miss your designated appointment, he stores his magic up for each client.”

“So what is he? A wizard? Like, from Harry Potter?” The bell tinkles as you enter the waiting room area. You take a brief look around, taking in the modern interior, with succulents on benches and plant pots dangling from the ceilings. There’s nothing ‘magic’ to this, what with fluffy blankets on the arms of the sofas, and industrial light bulbs casting a glow over the room.

“I’d prefer the word ‘alchemist,’ but you can call me a wizard if you want.” A voice says behind you, and you shriek, whipping around instantly.

The edges of his lips quirk up, as he holds out a hand. “James Barnes, you must be Y/N Y/L/N.”

Recovering from your shock, you take his hand, shaking it. “Yeah, that’s me.”

You take the moment to look at the man who’ll be doing your tattoo. Like the waiting room, there’s nothing ‘magic’ about him, aside from his glimmering eyes, his irises swirling between black and a crystal clear blue. Black leather jacket, paired with a fitting white t-shirt and black jeans, complete with laced up boots. His brown hair falls a little over his forehead, and gloves cover up the empty space between his jacket and hands.

“I heard you’re a lil wary about this, huh?” He gestures for you to take a seat, and you nod, plopping yourself down on the couch.

“A bit more than wary, sorry.” You confess, fiddling with your hands nervously.

He gives you a warm smile, leaning back against the back of the sofa. “No need to worry, all the clients are like that.”

His smile is comforting, and you relax as you and Nat listen to the process of how it works. As whimsical as it seems, you genuinely end up believing, and trusting the man.

“You ready?” He says softly, setting the cloth covered tray in front of you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You murmur back, and he searches your eyes, before pulling off the cloth. An array of items are arranged delicately on the tray, and you instantly feel your heartstrings tugging.

Your hand reaches to point at a blush coloured rose petal, and he takes it away from your fingers, setting it to the side.

“First one down. Four more to go.” He smiles encouragingly at you, his irises shifting to a shimmering cyan. It makes you shiver a little, but you begin to choose more items.

In the end, you’re drawn to a chunk of rose quartz, a glass orb filled with some type of shadowy fog, a white dove’s feather and a small, dark tree branch, glistening with some sort of silver shine.

“Good, you’re all done.” He tells you, standing up and putting the tray away.

“What do we do now?” You ask curiously, as he turns back to you.

He begins to pull off his gloves, stuffing them into his pocket. “You don’t have to do anything, but watch. I pre-made the liquid, to fit your name.”

Your eyes widen when you see that his left hand consists entirely of metal plates. They’re held together by seemingly nothing, moving smoothly as he picks up each selected item and transfers them to sit beside a chrome bowl.

“It’s held together by my powers. My magic’s normally limited to alchemy, but this is one thing it can do.” He shrugs, seeing you notice it, and lets you inspect it for a moment.

You trace your fingers over the plates, watching them shift underneath your nails. “It’s so fucking cool.” You breathe, watching him fill the bowl with some sort of swirling, metallic liquid from a clear bottle.

He grins, one that lights up his entire face, making your heart swell in your chest. “A lotta people find it weird.” He takes the rose petal and drops it into the liquid. It sizzles at the edges, before the entire petal dissolves into it.

“Well it is, a little, but it’s amazing.” You can see a blush creep up his cheeks and you smile to yourself shyly.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He says softly, staring at you a little, before going back to the bowl. You watch over his shoulder as he crushes the rose quartz in his metal hand effortlessly, letting it scatter into the bowl. The fog spills out of its confines, all of it transferring into the mixture. He drops the two other objects in, letting them dissolve, before taking one last bottle.

“This seals it all in.” He explains, and your breath catches when the glowing substance dances over the mixture, settling over it slowly.

“Now what happens?” You can’t pull your eyes away, and he taps your shoulder lightly, on the spot that you wanted the tattoo.

“We put it on. The liquid sort of directs my inking pattern, in a way. Can you roll your sleeve up?”

“Holy shit.” You breathe, eyes tracing your shiny tattoo in the reflection of the mirror.

“Do you like it?” James asks, as a smile spreads across your face, rapidly.

“I love it, it’s beautiful, James.” It’s an anatomical heart, simplistic but sketched in a pencil sort of style, surrounded by foliage, trees, vines and flowers all growing out of the heart. You don’t know what it means, but you’re anticipating the moment when it directs you in its path.

“I’m glad. It’s turned out a lot more pretty than some other tattoos. I was pretty scared when I had to draw a knife on somebody’s leg.” He laughs, pouring away the remaining tattoo ink down the drain.

“Wonder how their future turned out.” You smile warmly, admiring the shining tattoo once again, before he begins putting protective measures over it.

He snorts, sealing the tattoo with a cling film of some sort. “I don’t want to know, honestly.”

“Good point.” Your cheeks are burning when he places a light kiss over the film, smirking up at you.

“Well, here’s the manual, of sorts, and I’m sure you’ll contact me when the tattoo’s done its work?” He asks, stretching both his flesh and metal arms.

“Of course I will, James.�� You’d frankly make any excuse to contact him again, maybe you could pretend that there was something up with your tattoo, just to see him and his really fucking handsome face, again.

He holds out his metal hand, and gives you a lopsided smile. “You can call me Bucky.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

You jolt awake, your chest heaving up and down, almost painfully. Your eyes flick around, trying to see what woke you, but you find nothing. Until you feel a throb at your shoulder, and you wince, the ache growing bigger by the second.

You pull back your pyjama sleeve, and…

“What the fuck?” You breathe, watching as the ink of your tattoo glows in a white hue. Bucky said something about it glowing, but he never said what it would do. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, putting some slippers off, and trying to catch a better look at the ink. But as soon as it comes in contact with the moonlight shining through the window, you feel a sharp tug on your arm, where your tattoo is.

You jerk back in confusion and shock, but the further you move away from the window, the more it feels like the tattoo is being slowly ripped away from your skin, piece by piece. You let out a cry, at the excruciating pull on your arm, because when the fuck did you sign up for this? It feels like somebody is cutting into your skin, but with nothing to numb the knife’s blade.

“Fine, fine!” You grit your teeth and open the window, shoving your shoulder out into the cool air. “Is this enough fucking moonlight for you?”

You bite back a scream as you feel the hidden force drag its claws down your arm and you sigh shakily, shaking your head.

“I’m gonna regret this. I’m gonna really fucking regret this.” You mutter to yourself, before sliding the window sill up and climbing out onto your apartment’s balcony. Your apartment block backs into a recreation park, but at night, it’s more like ‘you’re gonna die in this forest.’ But it seems like that’s where your tattoo wants you to go, and you can’t really disobey what it says, otherwise it would be ‘messing with its fate.’

Luckily, you’re only a floor up, so you gingerly climb over the railing and jump the few metres down to the grass. You want to run back to the safety of your apartment, but you’re being urged along by the tattoo on your arm.

At the entrance of the path, you curse yourself for not bringing your phone flashlight with you, but you can’t go back, because at this rate, your skin really will rip off from the pull.

To say you can’t find your way around is an understatement, because you can barely see a thing. You can just make out the outlines of the trees, and the path. It’s weird how in the day, it seems so fun, enjoyable and carefree, but at night, it’s a whole different place.

Your tattoo pulls at you, making you move further and further down the path, against your will. You jolt at every tiny sound, or movement in the shadows. Nobody comes to these forests at night, because it’s so fucking scary, but you never know, maybe serial killers hang out here. Chills run down your spine, not just from the cool breeze, but also from the anxiety coursing through your veins.

You curl your shoulders in, hearing the leaves rustle. Your heart’s racing fast in your chest, trying not to look around you in case you see something that you’ll regret seeing.

Suddenly, you realise that the glow of the tattoo has faded, and the pain is throbbing a lot less than it was when you first entered the forest. There’s no pull anymore, except you feel situated in one spot, like you shouldn’t move.

A sharp, deliberate crack sounds to your left, which surely can’t be made by nature. You you’re your eyes tightly, feeling suddenly vulnerable, all by yourself.

“H-hello? Who’s there?” You call nervously, taking a step away from the sound. You wring your hands tightly, feeling your tattoo begin to pulse more and more, as a dark silhouette appears in a clearing of the trees.

If this fucking tattoo led you here to die, you swore that all the times you said that you wanted to die back in high school, weren’t fucking sincere.

You can feel your heart in your throat, eyes wide as you take another trembling step back. All you can see of the silhouette are their eyes, a blinding clear blue, looking straight at you. Goosebumps prickle up your arms and you want to run, but your legs are clearly not working.

The silhouette steps forward, shadows shrouding their body and you wince, sending silent prayers to somebody, anybody, to get you out of this s-

“Y/N? Is that you?”

Your breath hitches, because oh god, you recognise that voice…

The silhouette moves into a patch of light near you, and you crumble to your knees in relief, tears flooding your eyes at the sight of the man.

“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” Bucky drops down to your side immediately, pulling you into his lap closely. He’s wearing a long, black woollen coat, with black ripped jeans and a shirt with the top buttons undone, which would’ve normally made your mind wander, but right now, you barely notice that.

You let out a sob, clinging to him as he strokes your back soothingly and softly whispering, “I got you, you’re okay, I’m here doll.”

“You’re really here?” You whisper shakily, looking up at his worried eyes, having changed into a stormy grey colour.

He smooths the tears leaking from your eyes, with the pad of his thumbs, cradling your face with two hands. “Yeah, doll, I’m really here. What on earth are you doing out here?” He asks in a hushed tone, pressing tentative kisses to your hair. It makes sparks course through you, but their ones that make heat rise to your face, despite the situation.

“I-My tattoo, it was g-glowing, and it felt like m-my skin was gonna rip off if I didn’t follow it. S-So I followed it out here, and it faded away when you came.” You stuttered through your sniffles.

“Besides, w-what are you doing here?” You nod at him, and he bites his lip, still absent-mindedly running his hand through your hair gently.

“I come here sometimes, to collect the materials that I need, for the alchemy.” He explains quietly, adjusting you so you sit more comfortably.

“But back to you. So, your tattoo brought you here, it was glowing and aching, but when I appeared, it stopped?” Bucky questions, rolling up your sleeve slowly, to inspect the tattoo.

“Y-yeah, that’s right.” You rest your head in the crook of his neck, as he traces his fingers over the ink.

Moments pass where he’s quiet, intently studying the tattoo, and you look up in confusion. “I-Is anything wrong with my tattoo?”

He shakes his head, but you notice a slight flush dusting his cheeks now. “No, there isn’t but…it’s not shiny anymore.”

You realise, with a start, that the ink has turned the same texture as your skin, unlike before it started glowing. It used to be a shiny, but now it just looks like a plain old tattoo. “What the hell does that mean?”

He gives you a shy smile, looking away a little. “It means that the tattoo’s gotten its goal. It led you to your fate.”

You pause, comprehending the information, before your eyes flick to the tattoo, mouth parting slightly. You fucking get it. Your tattoo is a heart surrounded by a forest. What the hell else would it mean?

“Oh my god, does that mean…?” A wide smile spreads across your face, and you let out a soft laugh. He gives a chuckle, his grin so fucking happy that it makes butterflies set flight in your stomach.

“Y-yeah, I think so…” He tightens his grip on you, and you watch as his eyes shift from that stormy grey to a radiant, shimmering violet. It makes you want to get lost in them.

“I promise, that I didn’t change the ink to make it bend in my favour, and I swear I didn’t know that your fate would involve me, even though I wanted to, because you were so gorgeous and…” Bucky begins rambling, and you giggle, feeling your cheeks warm at his compliments.

“I know you wouldn’t do that to your clients, but even if you had, I wouldn’t have minded.” You give him a coy look, and his cheeks turn a deep red, to your amusement.

You can’t help yourself, despite the fact that you’re still shivering, you lean forward to give him a quick peck on the lips, before pulling back to see his reaction. From the astonished look on his face, not to mention his adorable, gleeful smile, you’d say that he liked it.

“God damn, do I want more of that, but we gotta get you home, doll.” He says gently, slowly standing up and picking you up with him, bridal-style. You squeak, batting his chest as he snickers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be letting go of you anytime soon. After all,” Bucky holds you close to his chest, ghosting his lips over your forehead, “who am I to argue with fate?”

A/N: To those who are confused, the reader’s tattoo fate meant ‘love found in the forest,’ which is essentially what happened to her. She found Bucky, which was her love in the forest. He didn’t twist the fate around or anything.

permanent tags (OPEN): @vibranium-arm / @gallifreyansass / @omalleysgirl22 / @girlwith100names / @buckysinthesinbin / @cameronahugenerd / @imsecretlyromanburki / @megan-atthedisco-blog / @buckys-fossil / @iamwarrenspeace / @sofiathearab / @yikesbuckster / @buckyappreciationsociety / @debbielovesbucky / @metal-armed-dino / @helloitscrowley / @sebastian-stans-thighs / @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics / @hela-goddess-0f-death / @feelmyroarrrr / @mjuikoli / @meganliiz / @psychicwitchphilosopher / @srgntjbarnes / @carriefish-er / @jurassicbarnes / @ssweet-empowerment / @shieldagentofthemonth / @palaiasaurus64 / @i-love-superhero

(strike through means I couldn’t tag you, sorry!)

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