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honey-dewey · 3 years

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Soulmate Imagines

Another short not drabbles but not full stories either! I was completely inspired by a post made by @absurdthirst and really really wanted to write the boys in these scenarios! So I completely ignored both of my active WIPS and wrote this instead. Oops? Enjoy these long and indulgent soulmate imagines!

Total Word Count: 5,179

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin:

Soul Tattoo AU

“Shit!”

You hummed, turning your head over, vision fuzzy. Din was rushing around the Crest, and you could see red painting his beskar. Was he hurt? You tried to stand, and then it hit you. Oh. You were hurt.

“Din,” you rasped out, blinking as his fuzzy image came into more clarity.

Din looked at you, helmet trained on your face. “Cyar’ika,” he said, taking your cold hands. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a herd of Banthas,” you said, shifting and wincing. “What happened?”

“Bomb,” Din explained, gesturing to your torso, where you were wearing a thin robe and nothing else. “Hit your side. Patched you up best I could.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “Did it scar?”

Din hesitated. “Some of it will. Nothing on your back though.”

Relief flooded you. You had no idea why you were so worried about your soul tattoo, but you were. The beautiful star map to Aq Ventina spanned your entire back, from shoulders to tailbone, the sides creeping over your waist. You’d done research about Aq Ventina years ago, when the curiosity had finally peaked. You’d read up on the history and knew that it no longer existed, decimated by a droid attack decades before you’d even known it existed.

“It’s a beautiful tattoo,” Din said softly, out of nowhere.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at his helmet. “It’s my soul tattoo.”

Din nodded. “I figured.”

And that was the last it was spoken of for almost five months. The next time it was relevant was during a two day long bounty hunt, when Din left to shower and you sat in your shared inn room, cooing at Grogu.

The shower water turned off, and you heard Din drying off. Then he called your name.

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Worried, you stood and headed to the bathroom. “Din?”

“Come here.” His voice bordered on urgent, and you immediately shoved the door open.

You were met with Din, completely shirtless yet still wearing the helmet, in the bathroom, no urgent problem in sight. However, instead of being mad, you were focused entirely on the tattoo that spread across Din’s back.

It was identical to yours.

“Din?” Your voice was tiny, so apprehensive.

He sighed, looking at you and taking your hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” he said. “But Aq Ventina was my home, so you have to understand that it was odd and a bit painful seeing the star map on your back.”

You nodded. “We’re soulmates,” you breathed. “I didn’t even know you had a soul tattoo.”

Din chuckled. “It’s not like I expose much skin,” he reasoned.

That drew a laugh out of you. “Yeah. But still.” Your fingers danced over the exposed edge of the star map that crept over Din’s side. “Soulmates.”

Din nodded, resting his forehead against your head. “Soulmates,” he agreed. “But only if you’ll have me.”

You smiled. “As if I could ever say no.”

Marcus Moreno:

Color Soulmate AU

To say you were stressed was an understatement. A huge project for Heroics was cradled in your arms, all sorts of papers and binders and information you were carrying to the filing room to be sorted. The stack was tall, which was probably why you didn’t see your boss until you ran directly into him.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you fell on your back, folders going everywhere. Marcus Moreno, your boss, was toppled next to you, also swearing.

“I am so sorry!” You said hurriedly, scrambling to gather the papers, eyes focused on your task. “I really should’ve looked where I was going and-“ you looked up, shock killing your words.

Marcus’s eyes were brown. Very very brown.

You gasped, your task entirely forgotten. “Oh.”

Marcus was staring at you with just as much shock as you were staring at him with. “Oh,” he echoed.

Your fragile moment was shattered by the click of heels and another employee coming over to check on you, her voice frantic.

“We’re fine,” Marcus reassured, standing and dusting himself off. Without saying anything else, he walked quickly away.

Once all the files were secure, you headed back to your desk and pulled out a small box of crayons. You’d never seen color, not ever, so this would be interesting. At least it would be if your hands would stop shaking.

One of your coworkers, Matt, came up to you as you used a teal crayon, marveling at the color. “Oh? You met your soulmate?”

You nodded, looking up and noticing the vibrant purple color to Matt’s tie. “Yeah. Bumped into him in the hall. Literally.”

Matt grinned. “Who is it?”

You cringed, the embarrassment setting in. “Mr. Moreno.”

“Mr. Moreno?” Matt practically yelled. “He’s our boss!”

“Yeah, I know!” You retaliated, checking your clock and scrambling up. “Fuck! I gotta go, that huge meeting is in ten.”

Matt smiled. “Good luck!”

Despite Matt’s wishes, you were fairly certain the presentation was a disaster. Marcus was missing, which was odd, and you ended up tripping over your words and getting a huge migraine halfway through the presentation. After sheepishly explaining the scenario, you were told to go home and adjust, you could redo the presentation tomorrow.

Of course, tomorrow was just as bad. Marcus was actually present, wearing a yellow tie that kept distracting you and forcing your words out in a jumble.

After the train wreck of a presentation, you decided this was a situation that called for a large hot chocolate. Getting one and settling in the cafeteria, you sighed, swirling your drink with a spoon. You were a certifiable mess.

The creaking of the chair brought your attention back to planet earth, and you looked up, nearly choking on your spit. “Mr. Moreno!”

“Please, I think we should be on a first name basis,” Marcus said. “So.”

“So.”

Marcus tapped the table. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I just, well, I haven’t seen color since my- Since Clara died.”

You nodded. “I understand if you don’t want this,” you murmured, looking back down at your drink. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Marcus asked. “No! I’m, well, a little excited.”

That shocked you. “Excited?”

“Yeah.” Marcus nodded. “Excited. Missy’s over the moon, of course.”

You grinned. “Thanks. Sorry I’m so nervous. I’ve never seen any of this before.”

“Really?” Marcus said. “Oh I definitely know what we’re doing first.”

“What?”

Marcus smiled, taking your hands. “You’re going to love sunsets.”

Max Phillips:

Black Mark Soulmate AU

“Oh no.”

You stared at your boss with nothing short of mild fear. Max fucking Phillips. There was no goddamn way. You’d known him very briefly in college, but this, this was unexpected.

He smiled at the employees, shaking hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As if his right palm wasn’t the color of fresh stained ink.

He walked up to you, holding out his ink stained hand. You were hesitant to accept. After all, your right hand was equally black. But handshakes were common, very common among soulmate meets. Max Phillips was not your soulmate.

You were able to tell yourself that until the moment your hands touched, the blackness turning into a beautiful swirl of bright colors.

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “Your hand.”

“Yours too,” you said, letting go of Max’s hand and letting him examine the watercolor of reds and purples that spread across his skin.

Max took a nervous breath. “No. Something must be wrong.”

You were shocked. “Max. Is it really that bad?”

“You don’t understand!” Max snapped, scaring you a tiny bit. He leaned closer, so you could see the devilish gleam in his eyes. “I have no soul.”

Your blood chilled as you saw the overly sharp teeth and the hint of red behind the deep brown in Max’s eyes. “Max.”

But he was gone, disappeared from right in front of you. Blinking a few times, you turned to your computer, determined to uncover the truth about your mysterious boss and the still tingling rainbow of colors on your palm.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Countdown Soulmate AU

The countdown timer was surprisingly unnerving.

Actually, was it really that surprising? It was counting down to the most important day pretty much ever. Yours had always had years and years, much longer than any of your friends, but you didn’t mind. That was just more time to prepare.

Of course, when you woke up one day to find that the timer that had read seven months suddenly read twelve hours, you freaked the hell out. Taking deep breaths, you calmed yourself and got dressed, texting your best friend and asking him when he wanted you over for movie night. He responded with eight, and promised that you’d love his friends.

With one last deep breath and a glance around your apartment, you left for the day.

And ended up with a popped tire on the side of the road ten minutes before eight.

Screaming your frustration into the night darkened woods and frightening some poor birds, you sighed and called roadside service. An hour, at least, before they could get to you.

Your next call went to Benny, who you apologized to and told him you’d make it up to him.

Your final call was to no one. You simply sat back in your car and waited for roadside service while you tapped away at some mind numbing game you’d downloaded on a whim.

Headlights were visible in the distance not even ten minutes later, which shocked you and then worried you. Who the hell was out on this road this late at night? Were you about to be murdered? Who would find your body? Would Benny still hold true to his promise and wear a lime green tutu to your funeral?

The car stopped when it saw you, and your anxiety skyrocketed. You quickly texted Benny one last time and locked your car.

“Hey!” A few sharp knocks and a face in the window. “Do you need help?”

You were trembling, trying to keep a brave face. “Tire popped.”

“Oh.” The voice sounded genuinely worried. “That sucks. Where are you headed?”

“A friend’s house.”

“Did you call roadside?”

“An hour.”

“Oof. Hungry?”

“What?” You looked over, seeing the dimly lit silhouette of a man holding up what was probably a granola bar. “Yeah actually, I am.”

The man’s cheeks lit up, and you assumed he was smiling. “Well you’re gonna have to open up if you want it.”

You hesitantly cracked the door and watched the man step back. The car lights illuminated him fully, revealing a very attractive man holding a slightly squished granola bar.

Turning in the seat so that your legs were hanging out the car, you took the offered food, smiling as you ate. “Lord this is good! Thank you!”

The man shrugged. “No problem. I’m Frankie.”

You mumbled your name around the granola bar, and then froze as your wrist burned warm and then cold, a clattering alerting you to the fact that your timer had fallen off.

And from the look on Frankie’s face, so had his.

He looked back up at you, seemingly nervous. “So can I get in the car now? I promise I’m not a creep.”

You nodded, still slightly shocked as Frankie got into your car, sitting in the passenger seat. It was silent for a minute before you spoke. “So. Soulmates.”

“Soulmates,” Frankie agreed. “I’m glad I shared that granola bar with you.”

Your phone pinged, and you swore softly, answering Benny’s text and then rereading it. “Do you, by any chance, know a Benny Miller?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said. “I was headed to his place when I saw you.”

“Me too.” You showed him the text, which read ‘Dude! Be careful! My buddy Frankie’s coming along, so if you get attacked, he’ll totally protect you. Also, totally not wearing that tutu because you’re not dying first.’

Frankie smiled. “You’re in on the tutu thing too?”

You laughed. “Oh god! Not you too!”

“Yeah!” Frankie said, laughing along with you. “Benny totally already has it, y’know.”

You sighed. “Damn. That’s wild.”

The hour until roadside service arrived was filled with stories and bonding. After your car was towed, you got in Frankie’s truck and headed to Benny’s, arm in arm.

“Hey, Frankie found the murder victim!” Benny said happily, opening the door. “Oh shit, dudes I was starting to get worried about you.”

Frankie shook his head. “Actually, it couldn’t have played out better.”

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:

First Words Soulmate AU

You sighed, taking a breath. Today you were meeting your baby brother’s coworkers at a work party. It wasn’t supposed to be so damn nerve wracking, but your stomach was a ball of anxiety. “Danny, are you sure about this?”

Danny, or as he was better known at work, Tequila, nodded. “Hell yeah, it’ll be fun.”

You tugged your bracelet, trying to cover the words winding across your wrist.

What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?

The Statesman Fourth of July party was apparently a big deal. There were sure as hell a lot of people. You stuck by Danny’s side, smiling at his coworkers and eventually sitting with a woman named Ginger. She was nice, and when Danny wandered off to flirt with someone, she stayed with you, giving you names to attach to faces.

“Oh, and that’s Jack,” she said, pointing to someone talking to Champ. “One of the longest lasting agents we have.”

You eyed Jack. He was handsome, especially with that cowboy hat. He must’ve noticed your staring, because he wandered over and sat down at the table.

“So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You took a breath, gripping the hem of your shorts and trying to think without looking awkward. A thousand responses rushed through your head, and you finally picked one you hoped wasn’t weird. “I dunno cowboy, why do you ask?”

Jack recoiled as if he’d just had ice water poured on his head. Ginger stood, shocked as Jack ran away. “What just happened?”

You were nearly speechless, tears starting to well up. “I think my soulmate just ran away from me.”

After a good long crying session in which you sobbed openly into Danny’s jacket and he vowed to absolutely murder Jack, Ginger gently explained Jack’s past with his previous soulmate. Which sent you into another round of crying and made Danny even more pissed.

He ended up taking you home early to watch shitty movies and eat tons of ice cream, comforting you as you numbly ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s on the couch.

When he left for work the next day, you made him swear not to hurt Jack.

You got a call from Ginger two hours later telling you to come pick Danny up.

Marching into Statesman again, you found Ginger at the entrance, lips pressed tight. She led you to the infirmary, where Danny was proudly sporting a black eye and a split lip. Jack was laying in a bed next to him, pressing ice to his cheek.

“Control your fucking brother!” He yelled as soon as he saw you, sitting up in the bed. “He nearly killed me!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” You snapped back. “You best be glad I’m not petty, or else I’d have let him kill you.”

Jack was, wisely, silent as you helped Danny up and out of the building. Danny was also silent, but was definitely smug about it.

“Y’know I totally won that fight,” he said as you exited the building.

You sighed. “Sure. Whatever. Let’s go home.”

The next day, you got a call from an unknown number.

“This is Jack,” the voice on the other end said when you picked up. “I’m calling to apologize for beating your brother up.”

“Apparently he won the fight.”

Jack snorted. “Sure he did. Look, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

A pause. “Cool. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you.”

He hung up first, leaving you with a dead hole in your chest. When you would see that cowboy again, you didn’t know, but when you did, oh boy was he in for it from you.

Ezra:

Pain Sharing Soulmate AU

You were screaming.

Well, screaming may not have been the word to describe the feeling. No, the agony in your right arm was numbing pain, the kind of pain that brought out animalistic noises and made spots dance across your vision. You writhed on the floor, clutching your upper arm and begging someone, anyone, to make the pain stop. A few nurses you worked with tried to dose you with painkillers, but nothing could touch soulmate pain.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain began to fade. You’d had some aches in that arm after a stab that was really painful and you’d assumed some kind of injury that your soulmate had sustained was being treated. But that, that harsh, indescribable pain that had you sweating and panting on the floor with your head spinning, you had no explanation for that.

After that, the nurses set you up in the break room with fluids and a light snack. Your right arm still hurt like hell, but it was manageable now. As time passed, the pain passed, until it was no more than a dull ache once more, with some odd numbness that lingered in your fingertips.

Of course, on the day you decided to try working for a few hours, your soulmate went and got himself fatally injured again.

Gasping and falling sideways, you gritted your teeth through a scream as your gut lit on fire, as if someone had driven a knife into your belly. It was the second time in three days that your soulmate had put you through this. What the hell was he doing?

Yet again, you were put in a room to wait out the pain, probably scaring patients with your sobs and pleads for any merciful god to put you out of your misery. This pain refused to fade, and you completely missed the wail of emergency sirens as a new patient in critical condition arrived.

Eventually, finally, the pain forced you unconscious.

You woke a few days later, breathing deeply as you realized you weren’t in any pain. The faint voice of a doctor met your ears as you slowly regained your senses.

“We’re all shocked they survived. With pain like that, I surely wouldn’t have been as strong as they were. First it was their arm, and then their stomach. We still don’t really know what happened.”

The doctor turned to you, and smiled when he noticed your open eyes. “Finally, you’re awake. We have someone who wants to talk to you.”

You grumbled, trying to string together the past few days. “What?”

The doctor gestured to a man sitting in the other bed in the room. “This is Ezra, our critical patient from a few days ago.”

“I was too busy being stabbed in the stomach to notice any crit patients,” you pointed out.

“Yes, well,” the doctor said with a smile. “He may have some answers for you.”

You sat up, rubbing your aching head and facing the other man in the room.

He looked like hell, face sunken and shining with post injury sweat. You reasoned that you probably didn’t look much better. But the interesting thing about the man was his bandage wrapped right arm. Or more accurately, his lack of an arm that was wrapped in bandages.

“Hi Ezra,” you said slowly, rubbing your temples. “Is this my headache or yours?”

Ezra chuckled. “I think it’s yours,” he said. “I can’t feel any of my own pain right now.”

You sighed. “Doc, can I get some painkillers? I got a headache.”

The doctor nodded, grabbing a few pills, but you shook your head. “The good shit, please.”

Smiling, the doctor picked up a syringe and lifted your left arm, considering your right still felt a bit numb. “Countdown?”

“Nah.”

The doctor gave you the painkillers, and you watched Ezra wince at the pinch from the needle as it hit your skin. Laying back as the painkillers took effect, you sighed, looking at Ezra. “I’d love to stay and chat,” you murmured sleepily. “But this stuff works fast.”

Ezra smiled. “Don’t worry songbird,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

Javier Peña:

Soulmate’s Name on Wrist AU

“Get up! New client!”

You groaned, adjusting your top and trotting into the hall, standing with the group of women waving and giggling at the new client. He looked up at your group, a light grin on his face.

“He’s cute,” you said to the woman next to you.

She nodded. “He’s a regular at places like this,” she said. “Says his name’s Javier.”

You froze, the small name tattooed on the inside of your wrist practically burning. “Javier? He got a last name?”

“Not that he’ll share.”

In the end, you were Javier’s lucky victim, mostly because when he asked your name and you responded, his watch-covered wrist twitched. So he was your soulmate. Or at least you were his. He showed you bliss, paid you handsomely, and left without a word but with a spark.

Two weeks later, you ran into him again. You’d been in touch with a man at the US embassy about cartel stuff, mostly that the cartels had been reaching out to people like you and you wanted to stay safe, and the man had invited you to come over and give a statement. You were hesitant, of course, but the man looked kind enough, and the other employees knew him well enough that you felt secure.

“This is my partner, agent Peña,” the man said as he gestured you into a room. “But,” he said slowly, eyeing the bare name on your wrist. “I think you knew that already.”

“I did.”

Javier took a breath. “Can we get this done with?” He said, trying to sound annoyed but only succeeding at stressed.

Your statement was quiet and precise, and before you knew it, Javier was walking you out.

“Javier,” you tried.

“Don’t,” Javier growled. “Just go, forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t!” You all but yelled, grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t walk off. “I’ve been wearing your name since the day I was born, you think I can just forget all of that?”

Javier was quiet. “You think I want a soulmate?” He asked quietly, and you froze.

“I’m sorry?”

“No!” Javier growled, shaking his head. “I mean, fuck. This job, if they find out you’re connected to me, they’ll kill you.”

Your blood went cold, but you kept your composure. “Hate to break it to you,” you said, shoving Javier’s sleeve up and exposing your name written on his wrist. “But we’re already connected.”

From that day forward, you were under protection. You quit your job, moved reluctantly to an apartment that was secured by the embassy, and barely left the brand new apartment for anything. The war on drugs dragged on, and every so often, Javier would shuffle across the hall and find solace in your arms, always leaving before dawn.

One night, after a particularly hard day, you and him were tangled together on the couch, name wrists pressed against each other. Your skin burned and prickled at the intimate contact, but Javier was so lost he didn’t even notice.

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

You smoothed through his hair. “Will we ever be safe enough to be soulmates?”

Javier was quiet. “I don’t know.”

You sighed. “One day, I hope we will.”

Another long silence, and then Javier spoke up. “Me too.”

That morning, you woke up in his arms instead of in an empty bed, wondering exactly how life would shake out now that you had fallen in love with your soulmate.

Maxwell Lord:

Dream Sharing Soulmate AU

“I’m going to cry,” you groaned, pressing your head to the table. “He hasn’t slept in days.”

Your coworker, Ellie, sighed. “Hon, you just gotta keep trying. Go home, rest up. Get some sleep.”

You stood. Ellie was right. Just because Max wasn’t sleeping didn’t mean you had to punish yourself. You’d been going rounds with him for months, and it was really starting to weigh on your own sleep schedule. All you needed, all you wanted was to go home and sleep for days to correct your broken internal clock.

Your apartment was cold when you got back, and you quickly fiddled with the thermostat before stripping and falling into bed, cuddling up with the blankets and falling asleep almost immediately.

Just as with every night your soulmate didn’t sleep, you didn’t have a soul dream. Instead, you had your regular dreams, all nonsensical and silly. You woke up at one point to eat before falling back into bed, still exhausted.

This time, your dreams were different. You were in a soul dream, which meant he was finally sleeping.

“Max!”

No response as you ran around the elementary school, but you quickly skidded to a stop, seeing bullies mock a young boy for his lunch. That was your Max as a child, and you immediately rushed to his aide.

“Max.”

The real Max, the one who was asleep right now, looked at you with worry, finally tearing his eyes off the bullies. “You.”

“Me,” you said softly. “You need more sleep.”

Max shrugged. You knew who he was, after all, who didn’t? But the suave businessman you knew on TV was very different from the scared man you knew from your dreams. “Wasn’t tired.”

“For three days?” You asked. “Max, that isn’t healthy.” You felt a tug on your gut, a signal that your dream was starting. “C’mon.” You held a hand out, offering Max a reprieve. “My dreams are kind.”

He accepted, taking your hand as you led him to your dreams. In your subconscious reality, you were a child again, laughing and ice skating with your parents.

“Can you skate?” You asked Max, still holding his hand. He shook his head.

You smiled. “That’s okay, you can learn.” You snapped your fingers and skates appeared on both of your feet. “C’mon!”

Turned out, Max was an abysmal skater, but he was laughing by the time your bodies were ready to wake up.

“I don’t wanna go,” he admitted, and you grinned, squeezing his hands tight. “Can we do this again?”

“Tomorrow night,” you promised. “I’ll find you.”

For almost a month, you rescued Max from embarrassing or painful dreams, taking him to your more comforting dreams. Occasionally, he’d do the opposite for you when you had a nightmare, but you mostly spent the nights in your dreams, watching fireworks or going swimming. His darkest secrets were no longer secret, and he trusted you with everything.

“Y’know,” he said softly as you and him watched a Fourth of July fireworks show from when you were seven. “We could do this in real life.”

“We could,” you murmured, leaning closer to him. “The fourth is, what, next week? Doesn’t DC do a beautiful fireworks show?”

Max nodded. “We could make our first shared memory.”

You smiled. “We could,” you agreed. “We will. I’m not too far from DC, I can totally drive down on the fourth. I’ll pick you up from work, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max murmured softly. “Dreamlike even.”

You laughed. “Dork.”

“Hey, you fell in love with me!”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Max’s firework illuminated face. “I did.”

Pero Tovar:

Color Soulmate AU

You pressed the leaf between your fingers, trying to gauge how sick the plant was. The grey color didn’t worry you, because you were fairly certain it was still green. “It just needs more water,” you determined, standing and brushing yourself off. “Try watering these plants daily instead of every other.”

The woman you were helping nodded, and you smiled at her as you walked back to your own garden. Rolling your sleeves up, you got to work tending to your plants.

It was hours before you looked up, alerted by the sound of hooves on the ground. A mysterious man was sitting atop a horse, his hair long and greasy, his face creased from what you imagined was a grueling ride. He jumped off the horse and stumbled in your direction, leaning against the fence. You stood, abandoning the plants in favor of helping the man.

He shook off your help, but stopped the second his hand connected with yours and both your worlds exploded with color.

You stumbled back, the sudden colors shocking you as the man reeled from you, his sun battered face full of shock.

“I’m sorry!” You said quickly, steadying yourself and reaching out to the man. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the man said firmly, right before he passed out.

Two days later, the man woke up, his partner by his side. The blond man had showed up yesterday, introducing himself as William and the mystery man as Pero Tovar.

Pero looked around, nervous as he saw you in the corner, slowly and methodically mending his shirt. “William, quien es este.”

William shrugged. “I don’t know. Not a nurse, from what I can tell.”

“Diles que se vayan.”

“I’m not leaving,” you said, without looking up. “And please continue to talk about me in a language you assume I don’t understand.”

Pero blinked a few times. “You’re smart.”

“I pick up on languages fast,” you said, setting down the mended shirt. “Who are you, Pero Tovar?”

William looked between you two before finally speaking up. “Should I leave?”

“Please,” you said.

William left, and you crossed your legs. “So, who are you?”

“No one you should know,” Pero growled, getting up and grabbing his shirt. “Just forget you ever met me. You have your colors, go live a happy life.”

You frantically tried to keep him in the village, but he left with William as soon as the local medic deemed him okay.

For the next week, you slowly learned colors, finding your favorites with much trial and error. Some of the village women who had lost their soulmates in battles consoled you as you grieved for a man you barely knew, a man who had given you a universe of change and then left as if it had been nothing.

Almost exactly one week later, the sound of hooves rang out again, and this time, you didn’t look up from your gardening. At least, not until the visitor entered your garden, standing in front of your vegetables.

You looked up at him, taking in a much neater and more groomed Pero. He seemed nervous, shuffling from foot to foot.

Standing, you raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Pero nodded, handing you his dagger.

You took the weapon. “What’s this?”

“In my culture,” Pero began. “When a man is ready to settle with his soulmate, he must give them his most prized weapon as a way of showing he is ready to stop fighting and raise a family.”

The dagger gleamed in the sunlight, and you smiled. “Well then, I guess I should make dinner for two, shouldn’t I?”

Pero grinned. “Yes, that would be nice. I’m hungry.”

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stylesnews · 3 years

Link

Last night, Harry Styles attended his first Grammy Awards, opening the show with a rendition of his chart-topping hit “Watermelon Sugar”, which was his first onstage performance in front of a live audience since the global pandemic began.

And, of course, while the 27-year-old crooner had his vocals down, Styles also won big elsewhere. Firstly, he took home the Grammy Award for the Best Pop Solo Performance for the aforementioned fruity track. Secondly, he was easily the best-dressed attendee at the event, pulling three big looks out of his Gucci Jackie purse, and, once again, we’re prey to his sartorial prowess.

Arriving at the awards, which was held with social distancing guidelines in place outside Los Angeles’ Staples Center, Styles served a heavy dose of British eccentricity. Never one to shy away from making an impression, Styles was dressed entirely in head-to-toe custom-made Gucci (a look put together by his long-term stylist, Harry Lambert).

A tweed, cropped blazer, worn over a low-cut V-neck knit, and chocolate-brown wide-legged, high-waisted slacks and cream leather boots made up the look, which was given a touch of Liberace by way of a lavender-hued faux fur boa.

His press junket look was a slight amendment on this, as he wore a terracotta double-breasted blazer and a black boa. He then did the same for his performance outfit, slipping into a glam-rock Gucci leather suit, under which he went shirtless, and over which he threw a lime-green boa from the Italian brand's Resort 2021 collection.

Typically made from ostrich, marabou, turkey or chandelle feathers, and taking its name from the boa constrictor, the feather boa has become symbolic of camp individualism. In the past it was an accessory favoured by British onstage legends such as T Rex frontman Marc Bolan and David Bowie, as well as icons of camp Lily Savage and Dame Edna Everage, all of whom danced to the beat of their own drum.

Styles has become synonymous with abundant camp energy, notably at the 2019 Met Gala in pearl earrings or during his Fine Line tour in a series of frilled blouses, and this was just another of his more statement-making moves.

For us, it was a nod to the ever-changing menswear landscape, which has become increasingly gender-fluid over the years. The likes of Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Loewe, Harris Reed and JW Anderson are lynchpin brands in the gender-free movement, pushing men in skirts, natty silk scarves and nipple-flashing, sheer numbers. Meanwhile, Burberry, which is historically defined by its traditional menswear by way of trench coats and slick suiting, has even been pushing for men in skirts under Riccardo Tisci’s guidance.

Thanks to Harry Styles, consider the feather boa 2021’s must-have accessory.

#harry styles #mar21 #grammys21 #british gq

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the-great-bbe · 3 years

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The children shriek with laughter as the waves roll against their legs. The sweet sound melds with the crashing of the sea, of Mellario and Ellaria gossiping about their beloveds, of Rhaella sighing and relaxing for once. All is bright and golden and warm, save for their ice-cold goblets of sangria. Elia tilts her head back against her chair and smiles. Let those bastards keep that ugly ass throne, she has all she needs right here.

Or, the sangria beach party that Elia and her loved ones deserved. A short fic to start off Summer is for Dorne!

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Among his many talents, Elia’s little brother is a master of mixing drinks.

He is a viper after all, and vipers know their poisons and how to mix them. Tequila from the agave blooming across the hillsides pairs perfectly with lime juice and distilled orange blossom nectar to make a margarita. Horchata foamy and fragrant with Summer Islander cinnamon can be elevated with sugarcane rum. And there’s nothing better on the gods’ green earth than red wine—proper Dornish sweetwine, not that diabetic piss from the Arbor—left to idle in icy splendor with strong brandy and fruit. Blood oranges, black strawberries, white nectarines, even a tart green apple or two. Their cousin Manfrey picked them all fresh from his private orchards near the Water Gardens just the day before. The bounty of Dorne for Dorne and Dornishmen alone.

A pitcher of his perfect sangria rests in a bucket full of ice slurry. Already her goblet is half empty, despite her efforts to sip and savor. It tastes so rich on her tongue much abused by dull Riverlands ale and Reacher wines. There are few blood oranges to be found north of the Boneway, even for a Princess of Dorne, and Elia feels the urge to inhale her drink. She sighs and rolls her shoulders. Just another sip for now. Summer explodes on her tongue, ripe and rich and such a dear welcome home.

Elia doesn’t remember the last time she was this happy. On Dragonstone it was a constant haze of sulfur and marine fog, and Kings Landing reeks from miles away. But here, on a long stretch of beach near Saltshore, the sun burns bright and delicious above the palm trees. Not a single cloud in the sapphire sky, nor any fog to mar the turquoise seas. Elia rolls her head back against her wicker chair. Perhaps later she’ll relocate to the hammock strung between two date palms and let the balmy sea breeze lull her and her children to sleep. But for now her precious Rhaenys plays in the surf with her cousins and Viserys, and dear Aegon builds a sandcastle with Oberyn’s help.

Instead of cowering from the Mad King’s rages and simmering with hatred towards her once husband, Elia lounges in the shade. Zinc paste is cloudy white on her shoulders, nose and ears to protect her from the strongest of the sun, just like the children. But the rest of her body is resplendent with shea butter and avocado oil. Thick aloe leaves already sticky with cooling sap wait in a basket by her feet in case she must ward away a sun burn, but her skin soaks up the midmorning sun like a child returning to her mother’s embrace. Gods, but the sun! She stretches her arms above her head and nearly knocks her wide brimmed hat aside. She swears she can feel the sunlight itself like warm silk through her fingers, like a waterfall down her chest to pool in her stomach and ignite joy in her veins.

She lets her gaze fall back towards the sea. When was the last time Rhaenys laughed this loudly? When was the last time Viserys laughed at all? Poor boy, but he, his mother and his baby sister are well in hand now. Targaryens by birth they may be, but the blood of Myriah Martell and Dyanna Dayne run sevenfold in their veins. Dorne shall never turn its back on any child no matter the color of their skin, and even from her shaded refuge Elia sees the freckles blooming across Viserys’s shoulders. Good; the more sun the better. Uncle Lewyn’s eldest daughter Obara throws him headlong into the waves and he shrieks with joy, while her little sister Nym and Doran’s Arianne demand their own toss into the surf. Rhaenys and Manfrey’s daughter Sarella help Lewyn’s Tyene search for shells and crabs, giggling and kicking seaweed at each other. When they find a proper shell, they bring it to Aegon and Oberyn who add it to their castle. Aegon blows a messy kiss onto Rhaenys’s cheek and Elia’s heart runs over with sweet warmth. Her babies, alive and well and happy.

It was a terribly close thing by the end of Robert’s Rebellion. Elia’s correspondence was cut off by Aerys in his paranoia, but she was able to smuggle out a letter to Oberyn when Rhaella left for Dragonstone. He returned with his sellswords to rescue them from their imprisonment, and not a moment sooner—Elia remembers how Kings Landing burned from her view on the ship home to Dorne. To think of what would’ve happened had they stayed…they say that Aerys was cut down by his own Kingsguard, and that the royal nursery was torn to shreds by the Mountain That Rides in search of children to kill.

Elia shudders. Perish the thought, banish it to the seven hells. Rhaegar is dead, and her children are Martells now. Even Rhaella forsook the Targaryen name when they alighted in Sunspear and she was hurried into proper birthing chambers. Daenerys came to the world not as a Targaryen princess but as a Lady Martell of Dorne, with Rhaella Martell the new Lady of Planky Town. Viserys and Aegon shall not give their lives to the Wall and Rhaenys shall not be chained to a Baratheon prince. Not if Westeros intends for Dorne to remain in the Seven Kingdoms, and truth be told Elia wonders if Doran intends to leave anyway. They entered into a kingdom with a union, and perhaps they shall leave with the sundering of one…

But that’s not what matters today. What matters is refilling her goblet. Elia raises it high, and Doran shuffles over with the pitcher. Her dear older brother is shirtless, stained with sand and salt, and there is a sweet flush to his cheeks. Even his bad leg seems fine with the therapy of burning sunlight illuminating their bones from the inside out. Mellario must certainly appreciate that! Her good sister lies on a spread linen sheet on the sands with Ellaria, Oberyn’s paramour. Both of them are bronze in the sun, a silk turban around Mellario’s head and Ellaria’s curls formed into twists down her back. And its’ said that Cersei Lannister is the most beautiful in Westeros, obviously people are blind. They look up at them with mischievous grins, before bumping their heads together and giggling. Elia smirks at Doran. “Careful now, habibi. I believe you’ll be ambushed later in the night and whisked away by a mystery woman.”

He laughs and his eyes crinkle at the edges. “I’ll be sure to not fight back too much.” He plops down next to her and sips at his lemon water. The maesters forbid him from alcohol and sugar until his gout is under control, a true tragedy in Elia’s eyes as the sangria is excellent. But even more excellent is seeing how happy her brother is. Gods, to imagine him mourning her and her babies as they did for uncle Lewyn, it’s a fate she would not wish on her loved ones. She intends to live to a hundred and twenty, just to ensure he’ll always smile at her with crinkled eyes.

Elia leans against his shoulder and peers out towards the cabana higher up towards the oasis grove. “Has Rhaella returned from Saltshore yet? Dany was giving the wet nurse a bit of a hard time.”

“Missed me, have you?” Rhaella, emerged from their cabana and the platters of fruit kept safe from the sea salt there, calls down to them. It’s been only a few months, and Rhaella is unrecognizable. Elia is glad to see the plump roundness of her stomach and thighs where before she was only skin and bone. And her skin, once as pale as parchment and twice as translucent, is as dark as her great-grandmother Dyanna. It glows against her silver-gold hair and lavender eyes, and there is happiness in her face where before there was only stifled fear.

Elia waves Rhaella over to the empty wicker chair by her side. Perhaps later, when the children sleep off their lunch and the adults are properly sauced from sangrias and margaritas, they’ll return to the cabana and lounge on the day beds. Maybe even one of the cabana boys—cabana men in truth, with their strong arms and backs—can give them all shoulder massages. Rhaella has a little favorite who is always eager to help his new lady relax. Elia raises her eyebrows at her good mother and she takes a long sip of her margarita. Elia is far from judging, as Rhaella deserves whatever happiness she can grasp.

They all do. How long have they all suffered these last years? Suffering Aerys, suffering Rhaegar, suffering the war that they wrought upon Westeros. Elia still remembers the screams from Rhaella’s chambers during their terrible stays in Kings Landing, she remembers the cold silences before Harrenhal and the even colder absences after. And now those men are dead and thousands with them. All over some Northern girl, and a prophecy that probably foretold the coming of the seasons than any promised prince!

Well, fuck them. Westeros has a new king now, in that stinking castle filled with blood and shit and ghosts, and the Baratheons and Lannisters can figure it out now. Let them have the starving smallfolk ready to rebel after a harsh winter. Let them have the honor of bartering away pieces of their souls until all that remains is bleeding pride. Let them have it all. All that matters to Dorne is the rice crop, and managing citrus exports, and the wellbeing of its people. Elia plans to build a new school for smallfolk children and petty gentry in Sunspear, as she is now Princess of Sunspear. More Martell branches for a blood orange tree to bear wondrous fruit. All beneath the sun, so bright in that perfect sky…

Elia sips her sangria. Oberyn and Aegon are finished with their sandcastle, and now he’s pulled out a guitar from somewhere and tries to teach his nephew how to play. Rhaenys perches on Obara’s shoulders and pretends to joust with Arianne who is on Viserys’s. Manfrey and his Summer Islander wife Bellegara Otherys finally finish up their romantic walk up and down the shore, with Bellegara joining Mellario and Ellaria’s whisper pile and Manfrey pulling Doran away to talk drunken business. Something about making a fleet of ships to rival Nymeria’s, and selling sweetwine to Sothoryos in exchange for coconut and date liquor. Elia giggles and can’t stop. Not with the sun so warm on her skin, not with Rhaella raising her goblet and toasting the coming summer.

It’s still winter north of the Red Mountains, but not here. No, summer is here for Dorne, and it is here to stay.

Let those bastards keep that ugly ass throne, she has all she needs right here.

#summer is for dorne #sifd #hot dorne summer #sangria beach party #southern renaissance approved

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hldailyupdate · 3 years

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Harry Styles brought big boa energy to the Grammys

The Fine Line singer served a hefty dose of British eccentricity with three outfit changes and an incredible collection of boas at the Grammy Awards, which we’re caught up in

Thanks to Harry Styles, consider the feather boa 2021’s must-have accessory.

(15 March 2021)

#harry styles #harry update #article #gq #grammys #march 2021

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

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Falling (Stuckony)(Chapter One)

A commission for @xkissmeimirishx who wanted Tony going through the wormhole above NY and right into an D/s reality.

Generic TW for expected “into the wormhole” mentions of death/dying and panic attacks.

STORY MASTERLIST HERE

****************

It was weird, the way something as final as dying could seem as easy as letting go, as taking another breath, as closing your eyes and letting yourself fall.

Easy.

But then again, death was the opposite of life and life was sort of unfairly hard so maybe it was intended balance that made dying so so easy.

Letting go. Taking another breath. Closing your eyes and falling—

— Tony used to love falling. He used to love the exhilaration and anticipation, the way his breath stuttered in that split second of flying before gravity took over. He used to love falling into a new habit, falling into a new love, just falling when he jumped from the diving board or the airplane or the rocks he’d climbed on as a child that he thought were so big and then realized as an adult they were merely stepping stones.

Tony used to love falling but that was before he fell from the rocks and skinned his knee and Howard yelled at him for being clumsy. Tony used to love falling but that was before he’d fallen in love and they’d laughed at his vulnerability and submission and teased that they’d expected different from a Stark.

Tony used to love falling, but that was before Afghanistan and Obadiah, before arc reactors that felt like gravity in his chest, before the suit shut down and he was staring at aliens through a wormhole that just days before had seemed impossible.

Tony used to love falling, but as his eyes opened wide to the horrors of another universe and JARVIS faded out and the wormhole started closing beneath him, all he could think about was how badly he needed someone to catch him.

But it was okay. Because falling was easy. And death would be easy.

All Tony had to do was close his eyes...

...Gravity.

It sank like a rock into Tony’s stomach, made his chest seize up and his lungs constrict and help help help it felt like he was suffocating, pinned under a ton of rock and drowning beneath the ocean and he couldn’t breathe.

Dimly. Voices around him and sunshine on his face and a dog barking in circles close by but Tony couldn't open his eyes far enough to see. Electricity was shocking through his veins to his heart, itching under his skin and behind his temples and his head was pounding and it hurt.

“Hey hey, you’re okay.” someone whispered. “Come down right here like this, on your knees beauty, that will make it feel better.”

Never once had being on his knees made anything feel better and everything in Tony’s core revolted at the thought. He jerked forward and heaved, pitched forward and met prickly grass beneath his palms, dragged in a breath that didn’t seem to touch his lungs and vomited fear out onto the ground.

“Aw hell, he’s in a real bad way. No collar?”

Fingers at his throat and Tony’s mind flashed-- rolled-- gave in sluggishly to a blurry picture of Obadiah looming over him, the click of a terrifying device and the horrifying pull at his heart as the reactor had come loose.

“Babydoll, can you tell us your name?”

“T--Tony.” Something wet at his face like a wipe and Tony tasted blood and defiance, a too familiar voice telling him to settle and Tony suddenly remembered the disappointment on his hero’s face, the way the Captain had looked him over and then looked away like he was nothing and he flinched but then same familiar voice crooned “Easy darlin’, just settle, my name’s Steve and I’m going to help you.”

“Tony. My name’s Bucky, can I hold you? Help you through this real quick?” A different voice pitched low and coaxing, strong fingers in his hair and Tony thought he threw up all over again when Obadiah and that paralysis machine and the violation of heart and soul and body came roaring back to his mind.

“No.” he gasped, and the fingers let go. “No.” he said again and this time the world stopped spinning just a little bit, the input cleared enough for Tony to see the grass in his hands and the clear sky above him and two pairs of worried blue eyes in front and he opened his mouth to ask, “Who--?”

But then gravity kicked in and he was falling again, down and down and sinking and he was cold and he was shaking and it was like the night he’d discovered the icing problem-- heart stopping fear and being trapped in what had made him so free just a moment ago, and the knowing he’d never escape this life and that it would eventually kill him--

Gravity, and Tony was falling.

Through the wormhole, through the sky, into the Earth and into the ocean, and there was no one to catch him.

“We’ve got you, sugar.”

“Hold on, sweetheart, we’ll take you home.”

“Pretty sub, don’t worry, you’re safe. You’re safe. Not gonna let anything get you.”

“You’re dropping, honey. Stop fighting it and let go, we’ll catch you. Let go. If you fight it, it’s only worse. Come on. You can trust us.”

“Trust us.”

“Let go.”

Let go.

Tony let go, let himself fall, and when strong hands caught him, all he could think about was how good it felt to finally be held.

***************

He woke up suddenly, breaking free of a dreamless sleep and right into consciousness with a gasping breath and the sort of headache that usually only came after weekend of binge drinking.

Pepper would be pissed.

“Ow.” Tony whispered and dug the heel of his palm into his eyes until sparks popped behind them and forced his brain back online-- click click click-- cataloging information and putting together a timeline of what had happened and where he might be.

New York, aliens, wormhole. Darkness and JARVIS shutting down and dying. Sunshine and gravity and voices. Sick and hurt and strangling as he tried to breathe. Letting go and falling and-- and somebody catching him.

There was a glass of water, a bottle of lemon lime Gatorade and a couple of ibuprofen on the bedside table and Tony automatically drank the water, popped the pills, then cracked the lid on the Gatorade and sipped slowly at it as he stared around the room.

The bed was small but the mattress was very high, a sure sign of the newer models which was a good thing since waking up in a strange bed was weird enough, waking up in on old bed would somehow be worse. The shades on the window were automatic and clearly expensive, though the clock on the wall looked like something out of the forties. Blankets were over clean and over fresh, so either just recently laundered or laundered and then folded away as a spare so this room must not be used very often.

Spare room meant a bigger apartment and maybe no kids, no carpet just nice flooring so maybe someone single who didn’t need the odd comfort thick carpet afforded or a couple who preferred less upkeep and cleaning. A folded up art easel in the corner along with a well used apron and rolled plastic sheet so--ah, definitely a spare bedroom, definitely not for kids. An artist then, which meant the window most likely faced East to get the most sunlight for painting which meant Tony could probably see the Tower from right here but hopefully not the wormhole cos please God tell him Natasha had closed the damn thing.

His suit had probably dismantled on the way down, but since he was alive it was more likely JARVIS had come back on line just long enough to slow his descent and let the suit take the brunt of the fall before peeling off around him. That would explain why he’d thrown up so many times, why he hurt all over, why his mind felt like scrambled eggs.

Falling and getting all banged up in the suit-- made sense.

Tony would just ask the people that found him and carried him in from wherever he’d fallen to take him back towards the Tower. Should be easy, he was Tony Stark, Iron Man. Recognizable and thankfully pretty well liked among the masses and if anyone doubted he could always show them the arc reactor--

--that wasn’t in his chest, holy shit the arc reactor wasn’t in his chest and Tony’s hand pressed against nothing more than scarred skin beneath his t-shirt.

What?

His arc reactor wasn’t there and that more than anything sent a bolt of panic through Tony’s heart, through his mind, startling him into action so he could fling himself off the bed and out of the room, bumping into walls as he tried to find a bathroom and there, he just had to figure out how to work the doorknob with suddenly sweaty hands and push past the panic crawling up his throat so he could get to a mirror and see what the hell had happened.

“Oh heya babydoll!” Very big and very Brooklyn and very shirtless was standing in front the bathroom mirror, one hand poised to shave away some morning scruff and the other-- well, the other one was no where because the man only had one arm and Tony kept staring at his face because he knew that face.

1945. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, best friend to Captain America. Fell off a train and everyone had searched, Howard had searched just like he’d searched for Captain for years but no one had ever found him.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky freaking Barnes.

“B--Bucky?” he asked slowly, incredulously, and a smile he’d only ever seen in old footage from the Smithsonian’s Howling Commandos Exhibit beamed back at him. “You’re Bucky?”

“Glad you remember that.” Bucky tapped his razor on the sink and finished up a few passes at his chin. “You were so out of it at the park, me and Stevie didn’t know how much you were processing. Can you tell me your name?”

“...Tony.”

“Good good, that’s what you told us.” he patted his face dry then turned and reached for Tony’s chin, turning his face both ways to check his eyes. “You feeling better?”

“Y-yes?” There was a tingle in the back of Tony’s mind that whispered submit when Bucky brushed a careful thumb over his cheek and that-- that was embarrassing.

There’d been a time when Tony had thought about submission, hell there’s been a time when he craved it, but while he was in a stranger’s home and obviously concussed because he was hallucinating long dead soldiers from his dad’s days with SHIELD-- well that was not the time. Not the time at all.

He wasn’t about to get subby and ridiculous over a pair of blue eyes and sort of unfair muscles and a striking resemblance to a war hero.

Nope. Nope. Not today. Not when there were aliens to clean up and a couple of spies to deal with and Pepper to try and talk out of furious hysterics and a Hulk and a demi-god and a super soldier--

“Tony!”

Tony would know that voice anywhere, even if it sounded less disapproving than last time, even if it almost sounded happy to see him. He would know that voice anywhere, and he flinched away from it, recoiled from a set of big hands reaching for him and the newcomer stopped a few feet away, mouth open and eyes hurt, hands up in surrender.

“No no, it’s alright babydoll.” Bucky wrapped his arm around Tony and hushed him. “No harm, Stevie maybe just move a little slower. I think he’s having a hard time coming out of his drop.”

“Oh hey, I’m sorry.” the blond offered with a quick smile. “Didn’t mean to rush you, Tony. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, alright? I shouldn't have raised my voice or came towards you so quickly. Sorry. Do you remember me?”

“S-Steve.” Tony stammered in disbelief, because it was right but it wasn’t right, this was a hell of a hallucination holy shit. “Steve?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s right. I’m Steve.” He moved slower this time, reaching out to cup Tony’s chin just like Bucky had done. “How are you feeling?”

“I--” Tony had to physically quell the urge to lean into Steve’s palm, to close his eyes and sigh at the gentle touch. It was a stupid reaction and a ridiculous thing to want so Tony leaned back entirely, even stepped away from Bucky and shook his head. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Bucky let him go without comment, but something like hurt flashed through Steve’s eyes again and Tony didn’t understand that at all.

“You need to take a shower, don’t you?” the big brunette decided and Tony actually had to clamp his mouth shut so he wouldn’t blurt yes sir in response to the question that had sounded more like an order. “You’ll call us if you need us, just shout and we’ll come running.”

“If you want one of us to stand in there too, that’s fine.” Steve spoke up and Tony swiveled with wide eyes towards him. “Coming out of a drop like this is brutal, a Dom’s presence would help. Either one of us are willing to be in there with you.”

Steve said it all like it was perfectly acceptable for him or Bucky to watch Tony shower, to share hot water with a stranger. And what did he mean a drop, what the hell was a drop and why did he call himself a Dom and-

“Easy easy, you’re fading again.” A solid hand at the back of his neck and Tony’s knees buckled under the weight. “We’ve got you.” A steadying grip at his waist, another lower on his hip to keep him from hitting the bathroom floor. “Oaky. You’re not ready for a shower.”

I’m not ready for a shower.

“I’m going to take you to the living room.” It was Bucky in his ear, soft and almost a drawl, an edge of Brooklyn accent coming through in a way that made Tony half hysterical, half thrilled. “Stevie, go and get one of our weighted blankets and the cloud pillow.”

“Yeah, Buck.” Steve moved on without another word, no hesitation in his step as he went to get what Bucky had asked for and Tony had only a moment to think how odd it was for the Captain to follow orders before Bucky was gently but firmly walking him out of the bathroom and towards a couch in the living room, lightly but purposefully directing him to sit, and clearly but kindly telling him,

“You need to sit, you need to breathe. Stay put.”

“Yep.” Tony nodded a few times and gripped hard at the couch to try and ground himself when Bucky’s hand left his side and he ended up feeling… feeling empty. “Yeah, I’ll-- I’ll just stay here.”

It was sort of a relief to be told what to do, to have something that Tony didn’t have to think about because right now he was thinking about everything. Bucky had told him to sit so Tony would sit. Steve showed back up with a weighted blanket in the calmest shade of blue Tony had ever seen and when the blond ordered, “Relax.” Tony simply…simply relaxed.

Not thinking, just obeying and it was a relief.

It was a relief like falling was a relief, but falling wasn’t safe anymore so Tony pulled himself back from that particular edge and held on to the couch tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.

Not falling. Just obeying. Breathing and watching because even with the odd urge of submit lingering around the edges of his thought patterns, Tony couldn’t turn his brain off.

There was too much to know, too much to wonder, and too much to see.

Bucky moved like a man meant to be obeyed, a man used to barking orders and having them carried out without question and Steve looked like he would follow every one of those orders right off the side of a cliff if that’s what Bucky wanted.

And that didn’t seem right, because Tony knew the stories about Captain America and Sergeant Barnes, he’d seen the war time footage and the way Steve had snapped his fingers and Bucky had run to his side, the way they were always ‘Captain and his second in command’, ‘Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’, ‘hero and sidekick’.

It didn’t seem right but there was something very right about the way Steve was every inch as big and powerful as he’d been facing down Loki in Germany and still somehow so soft around the edges when Bucky spoke. There’d been rumours about how close Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes really were back in the day, but seeing it for himself-- or seeing a hallucination of it for himself-- or a time travel flash back? Where the hell was he anyway?-- seeing it for himself was almost devastating.

Steve orbited Bucky like a planet around the sun, Bucky looked up and smiled when Steve handed him a bottle of water and the blond might as well have hung the stars, they moved in close tandem and perfect rhythm and when Bucky caught Steve in close for a kiss, they fit together like two halves of a whole.

...and gravity ripped a jagged tear through Tony’s soul, wide enough to let the lonely rush through and wrap through his heart and suddenly all he could think about was Pepper and the way she’d kissed him goodbye like he was already gone as he’d flown off to join the Avengers. And Rhodey who had begged him to call just once before doing something stupid. And his Mama who would be proud of him and his Dad who hadn’t smiled even when he graduated college and oh fuck he was lonely, he was lonely--

Tony didn’t mean to whimper out loud, it was a thoroughly embarrassing noise and if there was any thing remotely normal about this day or this situation he would have coughed it off and made some glib comment and then poured himself a fucking drink to drown it all.

But there wasn’t anything remotely normal about anything, and Tony didn’t have a drink or the presence of mind to ask for one from the Sergeant and the Captain that were somehow not the men they were supposed to be but still two people that felt familiar down to Tony’s very bones.

They felt familiar and they felt right and he wanted to fall to his knees and cry but instead he just whimpered and two pairs of beautiful blue eyes snapped rough to look at him.

“Tony?”

Submit and this time Tony didn’t ignore it and he slid off the couch to his knees, bit off a sob as the loneliness turned suffocating and it was just like earlier when he couldn’t breathe and he was drowning and he was blurring and he was---

“We’re here.” It was Steve who came close first this time, looming tall over Tony and then meeting him there on his knees, gentle fingers up his neck and lightly at his cheek and Tony gasped out loud and grabbed at the blond’s wrist because he couldn’t stay there un- tethered, floating in uncertainty and fear.

“Oh sweetheart.” Steve sort of… sort of made a rumbling noise and it was instantly the most comforting sound in the world so Tony finally gave into the need to lean into Steve’s palm and rest his head.

“That’s good, beauty.” Steve whispered and something unlocked deep in Tony’s heart. “That’s good, you are so so good. So beautiful when you’re soft like this. I’ve got you. I can hold you when you’re down, I’m here.”

An arm at Tony’s waist and he was pulled in gently gently until his nose notched at the hollow of Steve’s throat and he whimpered all over again when he was surrounded by warmth and steadiness and could feel Steve’s heart beneath his hands where he was clutching tight to the button up shirt.

“You’re so good.” came the whispered reassurance and Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard those words, which meant this was definitely a Grade A hallucination, which meant he was either lost in some effect of the wormhole or lying comatose in a hospital bed after falling back to Earth but either way it was fine. It was fine because for the first time in his life Tony felt loose and pliant and safe, grounded and surrounded and held and it was fine and it was fine and his mind was spinning--

“Settle.” An order from Sergeant Barnes-- from Bucky. “Sugar, I can see how hard you’re thinkin’ from right here. Settle down and breathe.”

Tony breathed, sharp inhale and a shaky exhale that left him drained and the second he obeyed another arm wound tight around him to hold him close.

“Holy hell, you’re about the prettiest sub I’ve ever seen.” Bucky murmured on his other side and Steve rumbled something in agreement. “Just gorgeous, sweet thing. Look how soft you are for Stevie, I love that. Good boy. Sweet boy, you’re doing wonderful.”

The praise was like balm to Tony’s battered heart, and his last thought before letting go and slipping towards darkness was about heaven, about soft lights and quiet music and none of the noise that clamored in his head all the time.

Heaven, because his brain could snap back into gear later and he could figure it all out later and make up for lost time later.

Heaven, because lips brushed over his temples and a deep voice crooned, “You’re such a good sub, sweetheart.” and it was the best thing Tony had ever heard in his life.

Heaven.

**************

“He doesn’t have a collar, Buck.” Steve twisted the heavy ring around his finger anxiously, rubbing his thumb over the raised symbol that marked him as Dominant, the pale aquamarine in the center that marked him as Bucky’s. “There isn’t very many reasons why a sub would be dropping in the middle of the park without a collar on.”

“Only two by my count.” Bucky took a long drink of his beer and didn’t take his eyes off Steve, checking the other Dom’s posture, the stress lines between Steve’s eyebrows, the muscle jumping in his jaw as the blond ground his teeth together. “He’s recently out of a bad break up and left his claimed collar behind without purchasing a white neutral one, emotions are running high and something set him off so he slid.”

“Or?” Steve asked tersely, knowing damn well what else Bucky would say.

“Or his collar was removed during a scene that got outta control.” Bucky grimaced, flexing his fingers to show off the Dominant ring on his right hand. “He ran, didn’t come outta the scene properly and dropped right there in public.”

“Neither of those scenarios are good ones.”

“Nope.” Steve kept twisting his ring and Bucky kept watching. “He’s not a switch, Stevie, not with the way he went down.”

“Nope.” the other Dom echoed. “Not a switch. Did you see how he looked when I held him?”

“The way he curled into you all sweet like that?” Bucky shook his head. “Yeah baby I saw it. Definitely a sub, definitely got into something he couldn’t handle and ended up fuckin’ vulnerable in the middle of the street. It’s a good thing you saw him when you did.”

“It was like something called me over there.” Steve confessed quietly. “Like the way it felt when you and I figured out we were in love. Called me right to him like he had been dropped there waiting for us.”

Bucky stayed quiet a minute, brows raised and his partner finished, “Don’t like that he jerked away from me that first time though, what do you think that was about?”

“Lotsa subs pull away from strange Doms, Stevie.” Bucky reminded him. “Maybe you look like his ex and that far into a drop he couldn’t separate you two. He cuddled right up a minute later though, right? Settled in all sweet against your heart?”

“Yeah.” a reluctant smile pulled at Steve’s mouth. “Yeah, he sure did. Never held anyone half as sweet as him, Buck.”

“Well I’m the only one you’ve held since we were fuckin’ kids.” Bucky grinned and kicked out at the other Dom. “You sayin’ I’m not sweet?”

“I’m saying when it comes time for one of us to be real pretty on our knees, it's never you.” Steve corrected, and when Bucky’s eyes lit like pale lightning, the blond swallowed back a hungry jolt and whispered, “And I know you think I’m pretty when I go down for you too, Buck. But there’s somethin’ special about the way Tony is like that with us. We’ve never even taken him down, not proper, not yet. But just bringing him through that drop….”

His voice trailed off and Bucky shifted forward in his seat, propped his chin up his hand and warned, “He could be somebody’s sub, Stevie. Be careful.”

“He could be our sub.”

“The reasons why he’s not wearing a submissive’s collar could be pretty fucked up, babydoll. We don’t know what sorta baggage he’s got.”

“Yeah, or he might be a sub that refuses to even wear a neutral white one.” Steve countered. “Some subs don’t wear a collar until they find a Dom they’d be proud to claim as their own.”

“Stevie--”

“Tell me you don’t look at him and want him right here.” Steve tapped at his chest a few times. “Right here, Bucky. The way you wanted me, remember?”

“You think I don’t remember th’day I got to call you mine?” Just to remind his love, Bucky lifted one heavy foot and thumped it down, inclined his head towards the floor and just like Steve did every time his Dominant wanted, he went to his knees between Bucky’s spread thighs and let his body roll lax and submissive.

“Fuck me runnin’, you’re gorgeous.” Bucky muttered roughly, winding thick fingers into Steve’s hair so he could direct a searing, claiming kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve was every inch a Dominant in every moment but this, and he melted beneath Bucky's lips, trusting and whole heartedly belonging to the man he adored. “Bucky, just tell me--”

“Tony is a submissive desperate to be held.” Bucky interrupted, tugging on the blond strands until Steve’s head fell back obediently. “And I’m pretty fuckin’ desperate to hold him. We’re gonna take it one day at a time, one moment at a time and if Tony wants to stay then he has a place to stay.”

“Yes sir.” Steve nodded.

“If Tony doesn’t want to stay, he doesn’t have to.”

“Yes sir.”

“You want him?”

“I-- I think I need him.”

“Okay then.” Another kiss, soft and sweet and achingly tender. “If you need him, I need him too. Call Clint and tell him we’re not hanging out tonight. Tell him we’re busy. I’m going to order food, we’ll wake Tony up again and then we will eat together.”

“Yes sir.”

“Stevie?” Bucky waited until those gorgeous blue eyes met his. “Get up off your knees and kiss me like a Dom, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, my pleasure.”

******************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

******************

@daddyl0ngl0ngs @tony-and-steeeb @farbiger @mdbd89 @nanita90a @andreasteed1894 @zola9612 @ravynfyre @nevergonnastopreading @imlittlebitdie @lovely--tony @yomama-umbridge @thanossucks

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping

#ncts fics #stuckony #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes #dom/sub

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legendofzelda4life · 3 years

Text

Bruises

Day four (?) of writing one shots

I’m going to murder my friends one day.

Non-platonic Shadow and Blue lime.

Really??????

I’m laughing so hard I might cry lmao I’m done.

Let’s see how it goes

Also TW: Blue is tied up and hit once, Shadow also wraps his hand around his throat.

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

Although he hated to admit it, since the day the four boys split, Blue took a.. not so small... liking to shadow. It started just after they got the four sword, when they went back to the castle.

They had swords at their faces when suddenly, Shadow walked in.

To be completely honest, he had the fuckiest fuckboy smirk on his face (if u read the manga its true lol)

That’s when Blue fell.

From that moment, he knew he was head over heels for Shadow.

He thinks back to that time as he sits on a tree stump, being lectured by Green.

“How could you let this happen?!” Green was outraged. “You fell... for the enemy?” Vio overheard and looked up, slamming his book shut. “I’m sorry... what?” Blue was silent. Red was nowhere to be seen. Green and Vio were yelling at Blue.

The usual.

This time, Blue didn’t even know how they found out. Had he spoken in his sleep? Had they read his journal? Who knows.

But all Blue knew was that he wanted to see Shadow.

And that’s just what he got.

Not even a day later, the boys got separated and now Blue was waking up.

Tied to a wall.

“Great.” He mumbled, tugging at his restraints.

“Stop whining. I just want some fun.”

That voice...

A chill went down Blue’s spine as his face matched Red’s tunic. He looked to the floor so his captor wouldn’t see.

“Don’t be shy now.” Shadow took Blue’s chin in his hand and made the hero face him. Blue looked him in the eyes with a small smile, playing it off as being cocky and not gay-panic (ME). “What do you want?!” Blue growled.

“To have some fun.” Shadow smirked. “I’m going to torture you here. Everyday.” Blue averted his gaze from Shadow. As long as his own shirt wasn’t removed, Blue could deal with torture.

“Look at me!” Shadow exclaimed. Blue looked up just to have his face met with a slap. He recovered quickly to see Shadow was a few feet away, panting. Blue looked at him in shock for a second before biting his lip and let his eyes slowly graze over Shadow’s form. Shirtless.

Shadow was shirtless.

Was Blue dreaming?

He didn’t know.

“S-stop staring!” Shadow exclaimed, turning away from Blue. “Whyyy?” Blue whined. Shadow was at him in an instant, hand around his neck.

Blue moaned a little.

He didn’t mean to.

But he did.

Shadow jumped back with a greyish blush covering his features. “You liked that?” Shadow asked, voice high from embarrassment. “Was I not meant to? Like dude I’m in love with you!” If he could, Blue would’ve thrown his hands in the air but they were already above his head.

Shadow growled a little and Blue looked away.

“Jees I’m so-” He was kissed.

Not by anybody.

By Shadow.

It took him a bit to notice but his restraints were undone and the second Shadow pulled away, Blue bit his lip and pulled him straight back, flipping them so Shadow was against the wall.

“You drive me crazy.” Blue growled as he placed his hands next to Shadow’s head. Both boys were rather flustered. Shadow then leaned forward and spoke.

“I know,” he raised his knee between Blues legs, “I can feel it.”

That one phrase made Blue weak at the knees. That moment was enough for Shadow to push him onto a nearby table. He leaned down and bit Blue’s collarbone softly.

“But I am too.” He growled.

There was a, rather long, process of the boys constantly flipping each other over until Shadow ended up on top with a flustered and tired Blue below him.

“Now... where were we?” He literally tore Blue’s shirt open and ran his hands down his chest. He felt the boy below him tense.

“Bruises?” Shadow asked. Blue looked away. “My counterparts aren’t the brightest so I jump in front of danger a lot.” How could he tell Shadow these were caused by said counterparts.

Shadow looked at Blue in silence before slowly kissing each bruise, rolling his hips a little.

(what am I writing???)

“Sh-Shadow.” Blue moaned, pushing his hips up. Shadow moaned but covered it with a laugh. “Hmmm? You like when I do... this?” He rolled his hips roughly in one spot, causing Blue to practically scream.

“Aaah! Yes.” He said, breathing heavily. Shadow thought he would cum then and there with how Blue looked below him.

Speaking of which...

“Mfm... More. P-please ShaAaAdow.” Blue was now holding Shadow by the hips as said boy continued to grind, rolling his hips rougher.

“R-right there. Ahh! Sssshhadoow!” The bottom moaned loudly as he finished but didn’t even have enough time to recover before a voice came from the other side of the room.

Well... four voices.

Shadow looked to the other side of the room to see Vio, Red, Green, and Vaati.

He facepalmed and looked at the panting boy below him.

“You’re lucky I love you loser, else this’d be your problem.”

END

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

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST WRITE?!?!?

Also I have one minute until this is a day late lol.

I hope you guys like this lmao.

And yes, ik I said steamy but I got carried away. It was also meant to revolve around bruises (bc black and blue aka blue and shadow (id thought it’d b ironic if blue was bruised)) but i also got carried away there too. It was supposed to end with shadow getting punched by Vio (who is usually calm) but as you can see...

I got carried away

LEAVE REQUESTS BELOW!

REQUETS MUST INCLUDE: PAIRING TYPE/GENRE/CATEGORY (fluff, angst, etc) PLATONIC OR NOT

I WILL WRITE ONLY ABOUT THE LINKS (including the ravio, shadow, and requested characters. Will not write about whole other fandoms though)

#hero of four swords #blue link #vio link #green link #red link #shadow link

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limenysnocket · 4 years

Text

I Despise The Way You Make Me Love You pt. 2

(Taika Waititi X Reader)

Summary: Today, Taika gets the day off of work. He gets to lounge about his house, wear sweatpants and watch whatever t.v. he likes without having someone to tell him otherwise. His plans are soiled and revamped as an unexpected visitor pays him a visit.

Warnings: Horny Taika vibes, it gets very lime-ish in here, some foul language too.

Request: @honorarytenenbaum

Author's note: I really don't know what to put here except I'm excited and enjoy the story lol.

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Boring. Boring. Boring. That's all today is going to be, huh, Taika?

Without (Y/N) here to pester or other directors to bother and ask for their plates of cheese from-- even though he has his own God damn plate of cheese in his tent/office-- he just can't seem to find the joy in the matter of a "day off." I mean, what's the point of it? Why couldn't he just stay at work with his very special girlfriend, where he could "take naps" with her in a broom closet or his office any time he pleased! It was all bologna, if you asked him. Total absurdness.

He couldn't sleep, no, even if he had all the time in the world to take naps like the nap God he is. He could be doing anything else, walking around, talking on the phone, or catching up on his favorite television show, but nooOoo. You invaded his vision, either dressed in skimpy outfits... or not dressed at all. Just as he would reach out to touch you, your skin would dissipate into the air like mist and he would find himself back awake again, hot, sweaty and horrifyingly turned on.

Would it be alright to text you? He knows you're at work, but he can always invite you over for a little late night cuddling and a bottle of wine. He just stared at his phone, his nose twitching every once in awhile, watching, waiting and contemplating. Would he text you or would you text him? The suspense was killing him!

He pushed himself up, grunting and shaking his head. "God damn it," he muttered. He had reasoned with himself. You were at work and you had every right reserved to be left alone. He didn't know, at the time, that you were dying to see him again.

He sat down at a table, in the mini courtyard of his home, with a laptop, just as the sun turned the sky orange. It was right about time he got back to work on Thor: Love and Thunder, because he was clearly days behind... maybe a few months, actually. Inspiration was hard work, especially whenever he has to find the right timing to put a shirtless Chris Hemsworth somewhere in the film.

He rapped his fingers against the metal table and rubbed his temple with the other hand, a fresh sheet of virtual paper already giving him a headache. He closed his eyes again, which was totally a bad move, but he didn't care in the slightest. There you were again, that little vixen that made his more perverted side crawl out from beneath his usually goofy demeanour. (Y/N), dressed in nothing but one of his sweaters, and he was almost completely positive that there was nothing beneath that. You stepped closer to him, placing your warm palms on his shoulders and squeezing them, massaging them. He felt your bum rest in his lap, the skin brushing against his loose sweatpants and sending sweet shudders down his spine.

The sensation of your warm hands cascading across his stubble beard drove him crazy and his own hands started to travel, reaching out and seemingly running his hands along your curves, down your thighs and back up again. He started to slip up the sweater, exposing more of your skin to his hungry eyes and he came close to seeing what he wanted to see, until he felt warm palms over his eyelids and his fantasy was pressed flat. He didn't jolt, because he recognized the warmness and the softness of those palms.

"Guess who?" He heard you say, giggling all the while. He scrunched up his face to make it seem as if he were thinking extremely hard.

"Jemaine?" He answered, after a few long moments of total silence, not including the scream of cicadas from bushes and trees. He heard you burst into laughter and those warm palms lifted from his eyes. He titled his head back and smiled to see your flustered and smiling face.

"Man, I must suck at this," he chortled and teased. You only nodded, laughing still, before leaning over him and placing a kiss on his lips. "Ah, this is the perks of you having your own key to the house. You can surprise me whenever you'd like, but I'm still waiting for the one where I come home and you're sitting naked on my couch for me," he winked and shimmyed his shoulders, which earned him a playful slap on the arm.

"You're a dork," you giggled then stood up, "I'm just here to cook dinner for you and make sure you're not driving yourself insane."

"But I'm already insane," Taika twirled around in his chair and made a mass amount of kissy faces at you, "Insane for you, baby~." Before he could even flash you with another smug face and pick up line, you had gone inside of the house, leaving him high and dry.

What you were making him wasn't the most expensive meal in the world, but it certainly was delicious. Steak, keto friendly fettuccine Alfredo with sliced zucchini noodles. It was a healthier option but certainly very delicious, plus, you knew Taika could be very picky about his eating habits, but not, all at the very same time.

You slipped into his "kiss the chef" cooking apron and started to get to work, taking out groceries from bags that you brought over and cooking appliances that you knew he didn't have or never heard of. You were so focused on what you were doing, you didn't hear the courtyard door slide open, then shut. Nor did you notice that Taika was watching you cook with a very lust hazed look, from behind his island.

Taika would be drooling at the moment if he hadn't known that he actually was amidst your presence. There he was, fantasizing about you again. He was imagining that all you had on was the apron you were wearing, and the best part of all, he got a great view of your cute ass as it swayed in rhythm while you cooked. Every time you would bend over to grab out a pot or pan, conveniently not turning his way, he would stretch out his neck as far as he could and try to peep on whatever he could without throwing himself down on the counter and startling you.

Suddenly, even surprising him, you turned around and whispered to him, "Kiss the cook, Taika." You gave him the most fucking smug smile he had ever seen, he almost didn't think this all was real.

It wasn't. It was his imagination. What you actually said was, "Are you alright, Taika?" He seemed to be straining against the counter, nails digging deep into the granite top. Once the fantasy had lifted from his eyes, he shook his head and almost seemed to wheeze. "Huh?" He said, his eyes fluttering and he swallowed thickly.

"I asked if you were alright," you responded quietly, almost knowing exactly what he was thinking about. It had been awhile since Taika hadn't been allowed to get you alone for enough time to rock your world. It was one of those things where he knew he had it, but he couldn't touch it and it was killing him inside.

He coughed into his fist and shifted the weight on his feet, "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You could see the visible shudder shoot down his body as he tried to compose himself once more. It was adorable to see him get all hot and bothered over just the sight of you cooking, but you couldn't just get up on the counter and let him take you while you let your food burn into a crisp. He would have to wait until after dinner.

"Okay, so, I'm gonna turn around, and you're... not gonna be horny? Correct?" You cocked a brow at him, raising your hand up like it would convince him more. He only gave you a wry smile which is how you obviously knew that he was about to lie straight up to you.

"Sure," he shrugged. Yeah. He was about to pull a bastard move the moment you turned around, whether it be lifting up your skirt and being a peeping tom, smacking your ass expectedly unexpected, or grinding down on you until you finished or out down what you were doing and giving him a nice, dirty fuck. He's done all three, on set and at work, not to mention.

You gave him a terse look, then turned back around slowly, your mind boggling around while you scraped tiny cutlets of steak into the skillet where they started to sizzle loudly. Loud enough, apparently, to cover up the footsteps of a certain ornery, sex-bitten kiwi.

You quietly started flipping the pieces over so each one of their sides could get a bit of attention. One, however, when you noticed it, wasn't soaking in the brown color you needed, so you wanted to flip it again. You didn't know if it was your nerves that were from Taika's obvious white lie that had you ready to jump and touch the ceiling or what, but you just couldn't flip this cutlet. It was stubborn. You tried it every which way and all it did was slide across the buttered pan and push up against the sides.

Wait! Suddenly, you had a snag on it, the tip of it just scooching onto your spatula, and you let out praises of glory in your mind as it toppled over and landed flat and perfect on the spatula. You had just saved the perfect steak cutlet from burning. You were proud of yourself, and all those nerves had disappeared. Well, all up until all of them came rushing back to you at once when Taika shoved his hand down your panties and started squeezing your ass through your skirt.

You yelped and flinched, which made you fling your spatula backwards and that sent the perfect steak cutlet flying, landing with a nice, firm slap on the island countertop. Your mind almost didn't register the rubbing of Taika's hand over your folds, trying real hard to get you wet for him. You weren't having it. "Taika, you have no idea how fucking pissed off I am right now," you growled, your voice dripping with raw irritation and anger. "I lost a perfect bite of heaven, because of you."

"Mm, I know, and I'm sorry, but you know how I am sometimes," Taika continued to rub, seemingly dipping his fingers between the slit to check the water levels. It's still running pretty dry. He started rubbing faster, but that wasn't enough. He barely grazed his finger over your clit, when you grabbed his hand and yanked it out from his panties. You whirled around and threatened him with the steaming hot spatula. All he had left on him now was a smug grin and playful eyes that stared into your cold and displeased eyes. "What's up, babe? You seem tense."

"Taika, how long has it been since we last fucked," you said sternly, your other hand reaching back and taking the heat off of the steak.

"A week," he replied, proud of himself, yet still smug and still quite needy to put himself in your pants.

"Wrong," you corrected him with a flat gaze, "It's been five days, Taika."

"That's technically a work week, for me," he shrugged, biting his lip a little while he tried his best to keep his hips from bucking desperately, "And now we're on the weekend, darling, pleaassee, you won't even have to bite down on a washrag this time to keep from screaming! I mean, unless you're into that. It was kinda hot--." He was stopped by the familiar press of lips against his. He fluttered his eyes closed and let his hands fall and grab your hips, bringing them to press firmly against his. The crotch area, specifically.

You were the one who initiated the kiss and you were also the one to break it. You took both sides of his head in your hands and you shook it around a little. "Dumbass," you started, giving his head a little shake while he gave you a cheeky grin, "let me cook! Then, MAYBE, we can fuck, alright?"

"You're the boss, darling," he said, his hips doing a little happy wiggle, then he scooted away, back to behind the island, elbows resting on the surface while his hands kept his head up. You knew he was watching you intently, getting a little impatient sometimes and lightly rubbing his hips against the counter with need. Because he did this, and you saw him doing it, which confirmed your kill, you decided to take your sweet time with this meal, make it painfully slow and put an amazing amount of effort into a healthier version of Alfredo sauce.

This game didn't last long though. Taika was smarter than he let on, an intellectual of solid mind, though one wouldn't couldn't possibly see it if you had only one conversation with him. He started eye fucking you with every chance he got, giving you his sexiest, dirtiest look that he could muster, while rubbing his hard-on against the counter and whispering your name between gritted teeth. "You're making this so much harder than it has to be," Taika said through muttered, lust filled curses.

"What? Your dick or the tension in the room?" You said, turning you head so you could look at him from over your shoulder. He grimaced. He was on the verge of going up to his room and finishing things off himself.

"You can't just do this to me, (Y/N)," he groaned, leaning on the counter and whining like an injured puppy.

"Uh- ha! You did this to yourself! Even when you knew how hard it is for you to recover from something like that," you grinned, starting to plate the food and get it all nice and neat. "Plus, a bonus for me, this is practically like revenge for all the times you thought it would be okay to get me all riled up all the times I would casually be talking to another guy."

"Ah, they were flirting with you, I had to do it before they took you away from me," he grinned at you, now biting his lip so intensely, he left teeth marks on his lower lip.

"Taika, no one's going to take me away from you without a fight, you know that," you rolled your eyes and smiled at him, finishing with the pretty plating and bringing it over to Taika, where he was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Okay, food's done, now can we fuck?" Taika whined desperately. You could see the hefty bulge through his pants and it made you swallow thickly, but you stood by your own opinion and decided he could take a little more torture.

"No, we have to eat first," you said which drew a long, high pitched, goofy whine from the depths of his throat. Taika looked down at his plate, grumbling, then picked up his fork and started to shovel food into his mouth at a fast pace, eager to finish. He forgets that you have to finish your food too, and you weren't even starting at the same time as him, because you buried yourself with pouring the expensive wine that you knew he liked.

Whenever you finally were seated across from him, half of his plate was already gone and he was swallowing a hefty mouthful at the time. "Taika, you're going to choke if you keep eating like that," you laughed and shook your head, tangling the zucchini noodles around your fork.

"It's worf ut," he said with his mouth full and started to chew violently. You took your time with your plate, spindling the noodles around until it was a decent bite then stabbing a cut of steak and running it throughout the sauce. You only made this meal on special occasions, really, so you took time to cherish the flavor of it. Taika wasn't having it. He finished his food way before you did and chugged his wine like the madman he was. When he finished that, he slammed his glass down like he just finished a shot. He was a mess.

You shook your head, "I still have to finish, you know." Your plate was just about half way done. Surprisingly, he allowed you to finish your food in peace, well, enough peace at least. Every time you looked up, you were met with big, brown puppy dog eyes and a pouty lip. He watched you eat your food, begrudgingly, flicking the little piece of half cooked steak that landed on the counter awhile ago.

The longer you took to finish your food, the more the longing inside of you grew. You thought this was going to be just a night for snuggling and cute little romantic stuff that they never got to do at work. It was supposed to be a time to get to know each other better, besides already knowing what his favorite brand of wine was. It was a night meant for togetherness, and the want for that must have shown on your face, because, when it did, Taika's puppy-like expression seemed to lessen.

Finally, you finished off the last of your zucchini noodles, took both your and Taika's dishes to the sink, dumping what was left of your wine down the drain, and you started to rinse them. No one likes scrubbing off crusty food.

"Hey," you heard a specific New Zealander whisper gently from behind you. "You're tense again."

You set one of the wine glasses down in the sink, and it hit the metal with a soft clunk. That was the only noise between you two for a long while, except for the rush of the running water spinning down the drain. You took a deep breath and turned the water off, slowly, then dried your hands. Once you were done, you slowly turned towards him, "Is... Is sex all you're really wanting out of me? If it's true, then I really don't want that and I'm sure there's some clean hooker out their who is dying to get their hands on you and maybe would be willing to work for as long as you want." You started making hand motions as you spoke. They were awkward motions, but they were necessary.

"What? Why would I-- (Y/N), I don't understand, why would I try every day to get you alone, like during our first time. The only reason I needed you alone is because I wanted to confess and kiss you, I wanted to protect our privacy, because no one truly wants to be the newest hot couple cover of People Magazine. When we... When we fucked, it just so happened by chance. We were both in the mood and we got what was needed. I actually didn't expect this streak to go on for so on like this... but," he paused, coming around the island and grasping one of your hands with his, "every time I saw you at work after that, I thought back to our first kiss, then the first kiss leading up to the first time and... well, you're a smart girl, so I'll let you figure out the rest."

This managed to put a dismal smile on your face, you were still a bit upset. "But, why can't we ever have these days where we get to know each other, just cuddle and talk about things and learn things about each other that aren't liquor related!" It was more of a statement than a question. The two of you only had one night together like that. You cuddled up with him under a blanket and watched his and your favorite movies, occasionally talking, up until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

Taika pulled you closer, gently, "Why didn't you say something, then, babe? You know I'm always open to stuff like that. Hell, I love that stuff." He brought the hand he was holding up to his mouth and he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it, sending warmth shooting straight to your cheeks.

"I was too embarrassed to admit it," you whispered to him, looking down at the floor until he used his free hand to tilt your head up and your eyes met with his. Eventually, your lips met his as well. It was brief, but soft and love filled. He didn't hesitate to pull you into a hug afterwards as well. The only problem was, his hard-on still existed.

"You know, I would love to settle down and watch a movie and all with you to talk about all your favorite things, but my boner is still here too," He joked, softly pulling away from the hug and looking down at you, cheeks alive with color.

"You want me to take care of that for you, don't you?" You ask with a stiffled laugh and look up at him to see that he's blushing, embarrassed now, and nodding his head yes. "Alright, fine, but once we're done, we're staying in your room for the rest of the night, watching Flash Gordon and you're going to give me ten reasons why Soul Rebel is your favorite Bob Marley album."

He grinned brightly at you now, "Deal."

#what we do in the shadows #taika waititi #fanfics #taika waititi x reader #Taika Waititi X Reader #Jojo Rabbit #The Mandalorian #This man I swear

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toomanyf4ndoms7 · 3 years

Text

Tartarus interview subject 2.

Entering the training room, the Interviewer found a Young man, who had recently finished his session, judging from the state of the training dummy and heavy panting.

The man noticed the interviewer and grinned.

“You must be the interview guy, right?”

They nodded.

“Great, We can get this over with. Don’t expect any big secrets.”

they went to his quarters as Jacob lounged on a chair.

“ask the questions, oh wise person.”

1. What is your name?

“Jacob Clay.”

2. Do you know why are you named that?

“Nope. Don’t care much anyway.”

3. Are you single or taken?

“Single.”

4. Have any abilities or powers?

“I am great at fighting. I’m also quick with quips and keeping myself focused.”

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“Take some initiative and make me.”

6. What’s your eye color?

he points at his eye.

“as you can see, lime green.”

7. How about your hair color?

“brown.”

8. Have any family members?

“Must’ve had parents.”

9. Oh? How about pets?

“None yet but a lizard could be fun.”

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

“People who act better than everyone else for no good reason.”

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“Train, fight, watch movies.”

“What a life I lead.”

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

“Back in the day I started so many fights.”

“After being hired by this place I’ve been able to channel my anger in less.. destructive ways.”

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Maybe?”

14. What kind of animal are you?

“Brown Bear. Apex predator but spends most days chilling. I can respect that.”

15. Name your worst habits?

“I’ve had it said, that I am a punk with no sense of respect. I do have respect, you just gotta earn it first.”

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“Nah.”

17. Are you LGBTQA+

“If you are? Good for you.”

18. Do you go to school?

“I did. Got into detention so many times. Usually for fights.”

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“No idea.”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“No idea.”

“If I do, Gods, I hope they haven’t seen me shirtless.”

21. What are you most afraid of?

“I have general self preservation instincts but nothing in particular.”

“Fear is a distraction anyway.”

22. What do you usually wear?

“I respect my roots as a young brawler so I normally wear casual clothing.”

“Plus hand wraps.”

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

“Lasagne. God I’d kill someone for that right about now.”

He looked at the cameraman and licked his lips before he grinned again.

“I’m joking!”

24. Am I annoying to you?

“Nah.”

25. Well, it’s still not over!

“Great.”

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

“i was low but now I’m high.

27. How many friends do you have?

“Lara’s decent enough.”

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Tastes good.”

29. Favourite drink?

He shrugs, “Coffee.” “Also, boiled Gatorade in a teacup.drives people crazy.”

30. What’s your favourite place?

“training room.”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

“No, I’m not.”

32. That was a stupid question…

“Yeah, it was.”

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“Ocean.” He flashes a smirk

“I get to fight a shark.”

34. What’s your type?

35. Any fetishes?

“no.”

36. Camping or outdoors?

“sure.”

As the interview came to a close,Jacob stood from his pair ion and led out the door.

“Okay, your next subject is down that hallway behind the old looking door.”

He pointed down before waking off.

“Make sure that camera got my good side!”

#jacob clay #oc interview #0lympus

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softyoongiionly · 5 years

Text

No Diving 🏊‍♂️

A Thursday night in the sweltering heat was not your idea of a good time. Your boyfriend however, has a few plans up his sleeve to help you ‘cool off.’

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Fluffy!!! Jin, Boyfriend! Jin, little known fact: Jin was my very first bias in BTS and, he frequently taunts me with his overwhelming perfection, SMUT (18+ only), Jealous! Y/N

Word Count: 3.2k ( I got a lil out of hand with this one, I blame Jin)

Warnings: smut (no minors plz)

A/N: whoa there, apparently I have a lot of feelings for Jin and, this was an attempt to get it all out. CAUSE EXPRESSING YOURSELF IS A GOOD THING BROTHER. anyway lmao

love you xx

The entirety of the back of your neck is coated in a vomit inducing amount of sticky sweat. Your normally cozy apartment felt like a stale-scented sauna from which you could not escape. Due to scheduled maintenance, your building had informed it’s tenants that:

“This Thursday, July 18th, we will be shutting off the Central Air system for a yearly tune up. The tune up will begin at approximately 10pm and, conclude around 5am to avoid inconveniencing our tenants. We ask that you plan accordingly.

Sincerely,

Management”

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue however, your region had been experiencing an intense heatwave that had kept temperatures well above their national average for about a week now. There was no mercy after sundown as the temperatures were only wavering a few degrees lower.

Hell, it was absolute hell.

The heat is not something you handled well. You liked to think of yourself as a fairly calm and reasonable person. Well your calmness and your reason-ability were no match for the sweltering heat that seemed to ebb and flow against the perimeter of your body. What’s almost nearly as irritating, is that your boyfriend, who had spent the entire day shirtless, seemed to have no issue with the lack of air conditioning.

“Jagi,” He chuckles from the counter-top, shaking the black fringe out of his eyes as he continues to cut up a few strawberries, “…it’s not that bad. The air’s only been off for an hour…”

Your irritation simmers at a dangerous rate underneath your skin, “Jin, it’s literally a thousand degrees in here…”

He snorts, shaking his head, rolling his broad shoulders before scooping the strawberries into the blender, his dark eyes scanning the counter to locate the bottle of silver tequila.

“You’re being dramatic…which is my job.” He smirks as your displeasure becomes even more evident on your face, pouring a few shots of tequila into the mix. “…The margaritas will help cool you down and, if you want, we can always go down to the pool and, wait it out.”

Huffing, you lean hopelessly against the counter, wishing that you could crawl inside of the freezer Jin was currently pulling ice cubes out of.

“The pool closes in ten minutes…” You groan into your palm, trying to ignore the fact that your ANKLES were covered in sweat.

Jin shrugs, the ice cubes landing in the blender with a loud sloshing sound, “So? We pay rent here, the worst they’re going to do, is tell us to leave…”

He makes a compelling argument. Nobody from management would be in at this hour and, most of the security group would likely be with the maintenance crew. You look up at him, admiring the way the sweat glistened across his bare chest as he added a few squeezes of lime juice into the blender.

Damn him for looking good in these conditions.

“That’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had…”

Jin chuckles, brows rising at your comment, “No, the worst idea I’ve ever had was the time I tried to make a move on you in grade 12 by leaving a homemade custard pie in your locker…”

You giggle at the memory of a very nervous, lanky Jin explaining to you that there was a now putrid pie in your locker because, he had no idea you would be away on vacation for the week. He had just assumed you ate it and, didn’t like him.

Neither of which were true…

“Hey don’t say that, that pie was the reason you and I went to homecoming together. Which, if I remember correctly, lead to you getting head for the first time.” You point out, still smiling fondly as you slowly make your way off of the barstool.

You were going to take advantage of your trip to the pool by using it as an excuse to wear the least amount of clothing legally possible.

“That’s very true—it wasn’t the first time I got head though…” Jin lets this tiny microscopic bit of information and as soon as he does, his eyes widen.

Why the hell did he just say that?

Pausing in your tracks, you feel your stomach churn in an uncomfortable way, “Wait…but-“

As you turn around, your boyfriend quickly amends, his eye still widened in surprise.

“It wasn’t my first time but, it was the best night of seventeen year old Jin’s life so, it didn’t matter…”

Your eyes look over him, assessing his answer. Jin chuckled nervously from the counter before his eyes roll in the wake of the awkward silence.

“Jagi, that was like 8 years ago, you’re not seriously upset are you?” His tone is teasing but, gentle, desperately hoping he hadn’t actually bothered you.

No, of course not. Why would you be upset?

That would be ridiculous.

You and Jin had been dating for 7 years and, lasted not only through 4 years of long distance when the two of you went away for school but, you made it through the countless hardships one often encounters at the beginning of adulthood.

7 years later and, you’re both still head over heels in love with one another and, despite your busy schedules, still manage to find time to indulge in eachother…often.

Like, very often…

He was right, it shouldn’t matter, it dOESn’t matter…

Everything is fine.

“No, I’m not, I think you told me about them actually…I must have forgot…” You pull a convincing smile across your face, trying to ignore the burning curiosity that had lodged itself into your brain.

Jin doesn’t look convinced but, the ice was starting to melt under the blistering heat of your apartment and, he wanted to finish up the margaritas to take to the pool.

“Okay good, now get your cute ass into the room and, please for the love of god, don’t come back in that red bikini…” He looks at you pointedly, gesturing to the bedroom.

You cock your head, giggling at his request, “Wait why? I thought you liked the red bikini?”

“I do but-- “ He motions wildly to the space surrounding him, “The apartment is hot enough and, if you come out here in that thing, you’re going to set the building on fire…”

Laughter echoes throughout the kitchen as you wave him off, “Stopppp…”

However, his comment soothes your petty jealousy (temporarily) and, you do exactly as he instructed you not to do, and slipped on the strappy red bikini you had bought earlier that month.

Moments later, you exit the room to find your boyfriend carefully scooping pink slushy liquid into matching, tropical tiki glasses, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in concentration.

Fuck, you really loved this man.

“Are you re-“ He begins his sentence before halting it abruptly, his eyes widening in horror as he spots you, “YAH! WHAT DID I JUST SAY? DO YOU WANT ME DEAD? IS THAT IT? YOU WANT YOUR BOYFRIEND DEAD?”

You burst out into another fit of giggles, parading over in his direction, “STOP, you’re gonna wake up the neighbors…”

Guffawing, he reaches for you, fingers wiggling in anticipation, “SO?? THERES A FIRE IN THE BUILDING Y/N! THEY SHOULD BE AWAKE…”

Your stomach is painfully sore from your increasing laughter as you grab his hands and, lean into his gesticulating frame. Your lips attach themselves to his momentarily to stop the noise, fearing that your neighbors will think there is an actual fire in the building.

Jin smiles into your lips, his strong hands coming out to grip your waist.

“You’re ridiculous…and it still feels like we’re on the fucking sun so, save your touching for the pool.”

Jin chuckles, stealing a kiss before, putting his hands up, and conceding with you.

“Fair enough…can you grab the towels? I’ll get the drinks…”

Roughly 10 minutes later, you and Jin make it to the gated pool that sat in the center of your complex. The summer breeze was a slight improvement from your apartment but, the air was still sticky and, far too dense to be considered pleasant.

“Do you have the key?” Jin inquires in a hushed tone, turning back to you at the gate.

“Fuck….” You groan, looking dreadfully back at your apartment.

He snickers, shaking his head at you before setting the drinks down, “It’s alright, I got it…”

“Be careful!” A panicked whisper-yell tumbles out of your mouth as your boyfriend grips the top of the fence, hoisting himself over.

He snickers again as he lands on the other side effortlessly and, pulls the gate open.

“Don’t trip on the margaritas…I will leave you.” He warns as he brushes past you to pick them up.

You snort, tossing the towels onto a nearby chair, “I’m glad our nearly decade long relationship is so easily broken over spilled margaritas.”

“Frozen strawberry margaritas...that you watched me slave over, thankyouverymuch...” He corrects, smirking as he sets the cups down on the edge of the pool.

A giggle leaves your lips as you follow him over to the water.

The pool area was strangely eerie at night. During the day, especially this time of year, it was loud, crowded and, reeked of sunblock and, burnt barbecue. Tonight however, after hours, the area was impossibly quiet, the pool lights illuminating its entirety with a soft blue-green hue.

A light splash brought you out of your head and, you turn towards the pool to see that Jin had already hopped in, the water in the shallow end only coming up to his waist.

“Is it cold?” You wavered slightly at the steps causing Jin to roll his eyes, his hand coming up to push his hair back.

“No, it’s ‘literally a thousand degrees’ remember? It feels like bath water...” Jin teases, opening his arms to beckon you forward, “...get in here, I’m already lonely.”

You flip him off at his mocking of your tone before giggling as he pretends to catch it like a kiss. Soon enough, you decide to trust his judgement and, slowly begin wading into the pool. The water proved to be the exact temperature Jin described and, it was so soothing that you found yourself immediately dunking under water. The uncomfortable sweaty feeling finally comes to an end and, you feel your mood improving significantly as you begin to cool down.

“You’re a genius Kim Seokjin...” You murmur as he starts making his way toward you, grabbing your drinks along the way.

He laughs at that, handing you the tiki cup before taking a sip from his own.

“I know I am but, I’m glad to finally hear it from you jagi,” He gestures to the cup, looking at you pointedly, “drink this before it melts. Let me know what you think, I added extra fresh strawberries this time...the syrupy shit is too sweet.”

You follow his directions, taking a drink from the tiki cup, humming happily as the refreshing strawberry slush envelops your tastebuds.

“It’s amazing, as usual, I like the fresher berries too, it’s less overbearing...”

“Okay good, I’ll make it that way next time,” Jin smiles, pleased with your reaction before jerking his head towards you, “So are you gonna come over here now or, are you going to keep torturing your poor, sweet, innocent, boyfriend?”

His face turns up into pout but, as usual, there’s mischief behind his eyes.

“You’re so dumb...” You laugh at his antics but, you don’t fight him, setting your drink down before wading over to him. Jin joins you in your laughter as he sinks down further into the water to encourage you to wrap your legs around him.

“Mm thank you... “ He murmurs happily, grinning as you settle into his grip.

You're grateful that the water provides such buoyancy that you’re both essentially weightless because, it allows you to wrap yourself around your boyfriend without fear of him dropping you.

Which he has definitely done before.

“Hi....” You hum as he wades around the shallow end of the pool, his face lit up with pure contentment.

“Hi...” He responds, pecking at your lips over and over, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip. The giggles that initially leave your mouth eventually fade as your boyfriend’s sinfully plump lips start kissing into you deeper and deeper.

Jin leans against the side of the pool wall, big hands motioning for you to wrap your legs around his waist, the slow kiss continuing all the while.

He was the only man you had ever been with but, you couldn’t imagine things getting any better than this. Even after years together, Jin knows exactly how to get your heart sputtering in your chest.

As he explores the skin of your back, his gentle but assured touch sends shivers down your spine, causing you to kiss at him with more fervor. Your tongue slips in with his, sliding slowly against it, causing him to groan gently into your mouth.

You considered yourself the luckiest person in the observable universe that you had somehow managed to score the man of the century but, there was something rather annoying nibbling at the back of your mind.

“...it wasn’t the first time I got head though...”

That singular, stupid, insignificant little comment that was uttered nearly a half an hour ago was stirring something inside of you.

It was unsettling and wholly unfamiliar because, you considered yourself to be a fairly relaxed person and, you had been in a committed relationship with a very loyal and amazing man.

A man, who was currently placing delicate kisses into the crook of your neck. A man, who could, in the same hour, make you laugh and cum so hard that you cried.

Your man.

He was yours.

“Jin...” You whispered, feeling slightly delusional as he began sucking on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Yeah?” His voice, low and slightly shaky sent jolts of arousal straight to your pussy, your hand beginning to tug him towards the steps.

“I want you in my mouth...”

Jin chokes on a cough as you slide your hand down the length of his torso, softly gripping his swollen length through his swim trunks.

“W...what?” He whispers, heart thrumming in his chest.

“I want you in my mouth...please? Can I?” You turn up the filth factor in your tone, nibbling on his ear, a weakness of his, as you coax him into your hand.

“Jesus...” He groans as you squeeze over him, just a little tighter, his length swelling as you do.

“Please?” You whisper again, nuzzling against him, the swarm of desperation being brought on by uncharacteristic envy.

“You know you don’t have to beg...give my girl what she wants don’t I? If she wants dick in her mouth than, that’s exactly what’s she’s going to get.”

The timbre in his voice drives you crazy and, the next thing you know, he’s got you both on the steps.

You bite your lip, admiring his toned body softly illuminated by the blue light of the pool, his black hair pushed back haphazardly...he notices your admiration and, he smirks, because he fucking loves it.

“You gonna get what you were begging for?” He challenges, brows rising as he moves to untie his board shorts, the tanned skin of his hardened length peeking out of the top of them.

You nod, eyes likely blown out completely with lust and determination.

Crawling over to him, you settle onto the second step, leaving some of your body submerged into the water. You brush your lips along his neck, before moving to place kisses over his collarbones, sucking lightly as you make your way down his body.

Jin’s breathing grows slightly in intensity as you reach the hem of his trunks. You waste no time in easing them down his legs, letting his dick settle hastily against his stomach.

Looking up at him one last time, you return his smirk, licking over your lips as you take him into your hand, “I’m wanna make you cum...really hard.”

He chuckles darkly, thumb coming out to brush over your swollen lips,

“You better get started then...”

That was all you needed.

You lean down, taking him into your mouth, your hand coming up to accompany the motions as you sucked on him. He groans deep in his chest, looking away momentarily because, the image of you between his legs is something he has never managed to get used to. You use your tongue to lick gently around the tip of him before your free hand comes up to cup his balls.

Sucking Jin’s dick was no easy feat as he boasts a jaw-aching 9 inches when he’s fully hard but, after 7 years together, you like to think you’ve perfected the art.

Jin seems to agree with you...

“Oh shit...you’re so good down there jagiya...you know that? Suck my dick so good...” He mutters the last bit through his teeth, his hips lifting with the motions of your mouth which were increasing with speed.

You squeeze him gently, your mouth and opposite hand squeezing and sucking him into a frenzy. He could feel it in his toes, his spine, he was overwhelmed. Jin couldn’t understand how you were so perfect at it, every damn time, willing him into shivering mess with just your mouth.

“Jagi....Y/N...” He moans deep in his chest going cross eyed momentarily as you begin to focus your lips on his swollen, sensitive tip. “How the fuck am I so close huh? You think after all this time...I’d be able to last in your mouth but, fuck....fuck me.”

His whine cuts off the rest of his sentence, his eyes squeezing shut as you take him down your throat, your hand still caressing and massaging his balls.

You were soaked, you could feel it.

Jin’s dick did that to you, in absolutely every context.

“I’m...fuck...you’re gonna make me cum jagi...I’m gonna cum so hard for you, just like you want huh? Gonna let me cum in your throat?” He growls desperately, hands tightening their grip in your hair as his toes begin to curl.

You nod eagerly, sucking him faster, moaning in your throat so he can benefit from the vibrations.

“Swallow for me...swallow it please...”

His last request is honored, it always is. He cums so hard it fucks with his vision, his hips permanently pushed up for the time being as he empties himself into your mouth, panting your name as he does. You take everything he gives you but, you wait for a moment, tapping his thigh as he starts to come down.

Jin forces his eyes open, his vision still not a 100% but, he can see you between his legs, with your mouth open, tongue full of his cum.

You’re showing off for him and, make an emphasized sound as you swallow the entirety of him down.

That’s too much for him...

He grabs you then, bringing you up to his lips, kissing you sloppily, “God, I really love you.” He chuckles in disbelief, his brain too hazy to ask questions.

“I love you too...” You giggle into his mouth, still breathless as you push a hand through his hair.

It was silent for a moment as the two of you continue to kiss slowly at one another.

“Hey...” He mumbles against your mouth, a knowing smirk forming on his lips, “...that wasn’t brought on by what I told you earlier right?”

No, uh, not at all.

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thewalkingfanfictions · 4 years

Text

Scarrs and Kisses and Lemon-Scented Skin -- Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter

Drarry Lime Thing — Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter (post Battle of Hogwarts)

Description: Draco finds Harry hiding in the quidditch locker room and finally decides to act on the feelings he's been hiding since the two first met. Light lime ensues.

⚠Warning⚠: kinda-sorta suggestion to past abuse and self harm, two repressed queers making out in a locker room like a couple horny teens, there's probably a curse or two. Spelling/grammar errors.

Genre: Lime. Pure, gay, angsty lime.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter (post Battle of Hogwarts)

A/N: I wrote this forever ago with the intent of writing an actual beginning to it, but obviously I never did that cause I'm a lazy bitch, so enjoy that weird ass beginning. This is set post war, and imagine that that one scene in the last movie (that was cut for some goat-fucking reason) (this scene) actually happened. Have fun with my sin, children.

Word count without A/N: 2492

Masterlist

<—————————————>

— So that's why, as he loped down the walk towards who-knows-where, Draco jumped slightly at the sound of the two's voices. He would not be exposed to that conversation again.

Making a quick about-turn, Draco sprinted down a different path, one that brought him closer to the quidditch quart than he would like to have been, the place didn't exactly hold happy memories for the boy. But, the two witches were still behind him, and coming closer every moment he waited.

And so, as a last ditch effort to avoid a confrontation with the two, Draco ran straight towards the closest changing rooms he could see. He didn't realize until a moment later that it was not only not the Slytherin rooms, but, infact, the Gryffindor ones instead.

And he wasn't alone.

"Merlin..." Draco whispered, gazing heavily at the back of one shirtless Harry Potter. His shoulders, rippling with gentle muscle, seemed even thinner in the murky light of the room, smaller, and weaker, and more attractive than the Chosen One should ever be. Continuing his silent gawking (as Harry had yet to notice his rivals presence) Draco began to notice more things about the boys body that would elseways be ignored.

How the skin hugged his ribs a little too tightly for his liking, how the muscles at the base of his spine rippled deliciously with every small movement. And, on a more disturbing note, the criss-crossing of thin scars that covered his entire back. Ones ranging between thin, sharp-edged lines, to thicker ones with pinkish discoloration, that still looked as though they might hurt even now that they were only scar tissue.

The sight caused an uncomfortable twist in Draco's heart, one that hurt him to the point that he thought he would rather have spoken to the witches.

But not quite.

"Merlin," he mumbled again, this time unintentionally louder, loud enough to warn the scarred boy of someone else's presence.

Twisting quickly around, wand now in hand, Harry Potter aimed the weapon at the intruder. Quickly realizing that it was the boy he dubbed to be his enemy, Harry began to prepare a spell in his head.

He didn't want to hurt Draco as he had before, with the spell he didn't know in the bathrooms, he hadn't meant to hurt him that badly then, either. In all honesty, he didn't want to hurt the ex-death eater at all. He had shown his reluctance to be on the side he was on during the war with the things he had done to help Harry, as small as they seemed to be.

When he witnessed Harry and the others being drug into his Manor, injured, bleeding, and hexed, he hadn't told the truth of who Harry was. He could have easily gotten the boy killed then and there, but he didn't, he helped him stay alive so that he could escape later, and save the wizarding world from that genocidal maniac. He ran back to Harry when he saw that he had not died as they all thought during the Battle of Hogwarts. He spoke of how he was forced into becoming a Death Eater by his father and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and had never intended on going against Harry Potter and the rest of the wizarding world at all.

But he was here now, and Harry knew that he had seen the things that Harry had successfully kept hidden all of his school career. The scars that layered the boys back had stories, stories that he would rather not think about, let alone let anyone else learn about.

Coming back to reality now, Harry came to a realization.

Draco hadn't even moved to reach for his wand, hadn't even tried. And his face, his face didn't hold the mask of anger and a sneer as it nearly always did. Now it only held sincerity, a look that seemed so foreign on the boy, it almost seemed unreal. His sharp, pale features were dimmed down to a gentle visual caress, and his body seemed so much less tense than it usually was.

He actually seemed... gentle, for once...

Slowly, Harry began to lower his wand, though he still kept it held tightly in his hand. Making an effort to harden his features, the boy with the scar that everyone in the wizarding world knew about, and the many that nobody knew of, spoke, his voice uncharacteristically broken and vulnerable.

"What do you want Malfoy. Didn't you know that it's considered rude to walk in on someone when they're changing? I ought to hex you right now actually."

Though his voice held no real threat in it, Draco was still slightly fearful. The boy knew that he was already walking on thin ice with the ministry, and the school. One more fight –especially one with the boy he had been accused of trying to kill– would surely get him kicked from Hogwarts forever. Possibly even thrown in Azkaban with his father, a shiver ran down his spine at that thought. If he ever had to see that man again, it would be to soon.

But the look in the dark haired boys eyes, it was enough to make him want to brave the hell that the wizarding prison would be, if only it meant that he could reverse all of the pain that the smaller boy had been forced to endure through all of his short life. The vulnerability in his eyes, it made Draco wish to do nothing less than hold the boy in his arms and tell him that everything would be okay.

Of course, as much as he hated it, he was still bred and born a Malfoy, and Malfoys didn't do things like that. So he did nothing but hold up his hands in surrender and show a small, and what he hopped was a reassuring, smile.

"Hey there, Potter, you know you don't want to do that. And I mean you no harm, of course. No, I was simply trying to avoid a pair of banshees, and stumbled into here for refuge. Its not my fault that you're still here, didn't practice end two hours ago?" The boy internally chuckled at his jab at one of Harry's best friends, and her girlfriend.

It had, Harry knew, ended a good two and a half hours ago. However, Dean had stayed behind for a rather long time to converse with Harry, and he hadn't wanted to change infront of him, as he hadn't wanted the scars on his back to be known about by anyone other than their creator, and their wearer. Of course, that was over with now, as now his rival had seen them. At that thought, Harry reached behind him to grab for his shirt that lay just behind him, and attempted to pull it over his head with only one arm, the other still clutching onto his wand like a lifeline.

Still struggling to find the hole that his head was supposed to fit through, he heard a small chuckle from the other side of the room, echoing around the space of the building almost menacingly. An awful blush suddenly crept up Harry's neck. Oh, how miserable.

Without warning, a pair of cold fingers were suddenly against the skin of his abdomen, following the waistline of his shirt and helping to tug it down for Harry, who, immediately at the contact, became a blushing statue. Arms still thrown akimbo over his head, Harry held perfectly still as the boy he had nearly killed only a year back helped him dress after seeing him nearly half naked.

Finally, several struggling moments later, Harry's messy hair popped from the neck hole of the shirt, shortly followed by the rest of the boys head.

His face, much to Dracos delight, was flushed heavily, but seemed almost contented.

Standing this close to Harry, close enough to see the details on the boys face that otherwise he would never be able to see, Draco couldn't bear to make himself move. His hands still sat on Harry's waist, where he had just helped pull the rest of his shirt down to cover the scars that he was obviously ashamed of.

Their bodies, now close enough to touch, both began to heat up slightly, both boys hearts began to pound at an unnaturally heavy pace, but neither one looked away from the others eyes, and neither boy pushed the other away.

A small, content smile came across Draco's face as he looked into the others, his eyes were much greener than he had thought, almost the same color as the jade stones that speckled the ground all across the campus, but, there was something else, too. As much as it fascinated him, Draco noticed more than just the color of his orbs. It was the haunted look that lurked beneath them, that hovered just under the surface. The lines around his eyes that only came from years of having them clenched closed in fear, the thickness of the eyelashes that bordered the eyes he now realized that he loved, the smile and the frown lines that tugged at the corners of the ovals of his eyes. And all of it seemed so perfect when on the boy that hid behind them.

Draco could feel his hold on the boys waist become tighter as if by its own accord, pulling Harry's abdomen closer to his own than it had been before; and Harry couldn't find the strength to push him away, however much he knew he should. He found the grey-ish light that emanated directly from Draco's eyes to be a magnet that he couldn't escape from. His grip loosened on the wand that he still held in his hand, the 'click-click' of it hitting the ground at the duos feet barely heard through their little hypnosis.

Harry knew it wasn't right, being this close to the boy that had been dubbed his enemy since the very beginning, but the feeling if being held in the taller boys arms was almost addictive, and the look in his eyes was so gentle, so inviting, so unlike anything he had seen it as before. Harry found himself wanting to trust the Ex-Death Eater, and allowed himself to be pulled closer to the boys chest, craving the warmth that Harry never knew Draco could emit.

When Harry brought his hands up to rest on the others chest, Draco had, at first, been slightly afraid that Harry was going to push him away. Make him leave when all Draco wanted to do was get closer. Unable to help himself as an almost possessive feeling took over him, Draco found himself winding his arms entirely around Harry, instead of just letting his hands stay on the smaller boys waist, pulling him closer until their bodies were held flush up against each other, Harry's hands still settled on the muscle that flexed just under Draco's button-down dress shirt.

Draco also couldn't help himself as he moved his gaze down to Harry's slightly-parted lips, and inclined his head slightly, as if asking for permission to come closer, Harry happily obliged, tilting his head up at the same time. Their lips, close enough to brush, still didn't quite touch, both boys waiting for the other to make the first move.

Of course it was Draco to be the one that finally did make it, pushing his head down even farther to accommodate for Harry's shorter stature, Draco finally pressed his lips to Harry's.

The feeling was incredibly soft, softer than Harry thought Dracos lips might be (not that Harry had ever thought about it... not at all), and more comforting than he thought any feeling invoked by the once-enemy could be. The kiss was sweet, gentle, just oh so nice, Harry found himself pushing his hands up the others chest, and wrapping them around the back of his neck, tugging gently on the hair on the base of Draco's head, earning himself a low groan, and a tighter grip around the formers body. Liking the reaction he received, Harry tried it again, pulling harder on the blond boys hair. This time, Draco practically growled.

Backing Harry up until his back was pressed against the lockers, their kiss got harder, more demanding. Keeping Harry pinned to the locker with his own body, Draco began exploring Harry's body with his fingertips. Licking softly at the crease between Harry's lips, Draco asked for entrance, which was quickly given. Draco didn't even have to fight for dominance as his tongue mapped Harry's mouth, the more submissive boy simply giving in to him without any struggle.

Draco, who's hands had now moved from his waist, to Harry's hip, and neck, groaned again as he felt the smaller boy give a tentative tug to his hair. Reciprocating with a hard, yet not quite painful, bite to Harry's bottom lip, he found himself wanting to continue the sweet torture. The sound Harry made, the soft, keening whimper that drew from his lips had Draco shuddering.

Draco decided right then and there, that he didn't care what happened to him, so long as he got to hear those sweet sounds come from this boys lips; and he got to be the reason they were being made.

Pulling back slightly, Draco savored the new whimper that came from Harry at the loss of contact. Still keeping themselves in the same position, pushed up against each other until it was difficult to tell where one boy ended, and the other began, Draco took in the boys appearance. Lips swollen and red from the intensity of their shared kiss, hair even more mussed than usual, glasses very slightly ascue on his nose. Draco believed that the boy had never looked more attractive.

A small smile came to the blonds lips, and he couldn't be restrained –not that anyone had planned too– as he moved back down to plant his lips on the boys once again.

If the two had died and gone to hell at that exact moment, it wouldn't have mattered. The two, so entranced with each other that they probably wouldn't have noticed if they had died, held each other so closely that there wasn't any room for doubt or regret.

And on Dracos side, anyway, there was none whatsoever. Touching Harry, even being close enough to him to be able to notice the small things as he had this evening, was the happiest moment of his life, he decided. No matter how dramatic that sounded, or how much of a wanker it made him seem like, he was happy. For the first time in more years than he'd care to count, he wasn't so filled with his own self-loathing that it foamed over the brim and left scars on his wrists.

#Harry Potter #draco malfoy #drarry #lime #drarry lime #gay #kissing #cute af #drarry lime thing

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galahadwilder · 5 years

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Marinaked, Ch. 6

Marinaked Archive

EVERYTHING WAS TERRIBLE FOREVER.

”Oh-ho-hooooooh my god,” Rena said, staring. “Kitty is cut.”

”Oh my god!” Queen Bee shrieked, covering her eyes. “Put on a blanket or something!”

Oh my god, Ladybug thought, trying not to stare.

Chat was completely naked except for his mask, his ears, and his underwear—Ladybug-pattern boxer shorts. His skin was as red as his underwear as he tried to cover his chest with naked hands, avoiding everyone’s eyes as best he could.

They hadn’t even been fighting the Akuma for ten minutes and Ladybug had kept slipping up, distracted by the closeness of her partner/crush because, even though he didn't know what he'd seen, she was mortified at the mere thought of him. Moreover, now that she knew who he was, she couldn’t keep denying how hot she thought Chatdrien was. Every time he entered her field of vision she lost her focus, but trying not to look at him was even worse. She’d left herself wide open, a prime target for the Akuma’s primary attack. Of course she should’ve expected Chat to tank it for her.

Ladybug was completely frozen as her partner—as the love of her life—whined in distress over having what little dignity he hadn’t sacrificed to his awful sense of humor stripped from him. Oh, god. The things she’d imagined doing to that chest and those legs...

She counted herself lucky that Adrien was a boxers man, because if she’d seen any more of the shape of his ass she thought she might pass out.

"Carapace," Chat said, "can I please borrow your shield?"

Carapace shook his head. "Hell no," he said. "Don't want to deprive the world of the glory of that chest."

"Babe!" Rena yelped.

"What?" Carapace said, not even bothering to hide his staring. "You're the one who proposed the Ladynoir exception clause."

"OKAY!" Ladybug yelped. "Everyone calm down!" Especially me, that would be lovely, thank you. "We—we've still got an Akuma to chase."

Rena smirked. “Not you, Buggy,” she said. “I think you’re distracted enough today. You should...” One eyebrow raised behind her mask. “...stay behind.”

Ladybug growled. “I’m going to kill you,” she whispered, too low for the rest of the team to hear.

Rena just winked and kissed the air, then turned to Carapace and Bee. “Come on, losers,” she said. “We’ve got an Akuma to catch.”

”Who put you in charge?” Bee screeched as the three of them charged across the rooftops in the direction the villain had run. Leaving Ladybug alone with a very-nearly-naked Chat Noir.

She tried not to look, she really did. But Rena was right: the boy was an Adonis—unsurprising, now that she knew who he was, but still. The things she wanted to do to that chest... Unf. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the steam that was no doubt blasting from her ears.

“Ladybug?” Chat croaked. “Could—could I get some pants, please?”

Ladybug blinked, shook her head. “R-right!” she said, fumbling for her yo-yo. “Um... Lucky... Lucky Charm?”

A mess of red polka-dotted flannel fell into her hands. She unfolded it to find a Ladybug onesie, perfectly sized for Chat Noir and a zipper down the front. She groaned, holding it out to him. “Tikki hates me.”

”I’ll take what I can get,” Chat said, relief filling his voice. He took the onesie from her hands, unzipping it and hurriedly stepping in.

”I’m surprised,” Ladybug said, pointedly not looking at him while he dressed. “I figured you’d be more comfortable being shirtless around people.”

”What do you mean?” Chat said, as she heard him zip up the front of the pajamas.

"Well, cause you're a..." Ladybug trailed off, then mentally slapped herself. He didn't know that she knew that he was a model, and she couldn't just... drop that on him. "You know, you're always so, so..." She flexed her bicep the way he always did when he was trying to show off. "That."

He giggled, padding up behind her. "My Lady, I didn't know you noticed."

She turned and flicked the tip of his nose. "Hard not to when you keep flaunting it, Kitty Cat."

"What can I say," he said. "Call me 1080p cause these muscles are defined—is Rena wearing lingerie?" He narrowed his eyes, peering off into the distance.

"She's what?" Ladybug cackled, her head snapping around in the same direction, and yep, Rena Rouge's suit—except for the mask and ears—had vanished and she was definitely wearing a lace jade bra-and-panty set, highlighted in the same lime as Carapace's chest plates, which she'd commissioned from Marinette not a month before. Ladybug shaded her eyes. "Must be date night," she said, then shoved Chat Noir in the shoulders with a smile. "I guess you've just lost the award for most embarrassing underwear choice of the day."

"Come on," Chat smirked, jostling her right back. "Like you're not wearing underwear with me all over it."

"I'm not, you stupid—" she began, then her throat froze up as she realized that she was, in fact, wearing Agreste brand underpants today and thus his name was, in fact, written on her underwear. "Oh, Kwami-dammit."

Chat jerked. "Wait," he said, his voice strangled. "You are?"

Ladybug groaned as she felt the heat rising in her face. "Can you just... have Plagg disintegrate me, please?" she muttered into her hands.

Want to read more? Browse the “marinaked” tag on my page!

#marinaked #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #ladrien #half reveal #one sided identity reveal #identity reveal #rena rouge #renapace #carapace #queen bee #original content #fic #my fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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aizawasbedtimestories · 5 years

Text

Thanks for clarifying! I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything lemon-y, so I had to cut it off before it got that far, but I am glad you enjoy my writing!! ♥

TW Yandere and Rated Lime

“Come on, [Name].”

You could tell by the way he chewed out your name that he was getting impatient. Ever since he had captured you, it had been nothing but good days and bad days, this one certainly being on the worse side. Bound to the bed frame by your palms and ankles, you didn’t have much freedom to move anyway, but you used every inch of it to hold him away from you.

Aizawa Shouta was a predator, that much you had learned by the time you had to spend in this godforsaken room with him. He liked your every reaction to him teasing you and he absolutely loved seeing you struggle to keep him off from you. But even a man with such bad taste had his patience issues and today you had reached his limit.

“God,” he hissed, annoyance in his voice. You had just kicked your knee into his stomach as he tried to press your legs apart, and it must have hit a sore spot for him. Letting out a long sigh, he finally climbed off of you, his advances seemingly disappearing. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

Groaning as he got up from the bed, he walked over to his mini-fridge, searching for a bottle of water. If not for the quite dangerous situation you were in, he was a sight to see. Build, shirtless body. Skin patched with scars, showing his heroic adventures, and his hair messy. But you couldn’t lie about his outward attractiveness.

Inwardly? Not so much. You would never understand what was going on in his sick head. Was he delusional or did he simply enjoy the torture he put you through? You had yet to find out what it was that even draw him to you, less put his filthy hand on your body over and over and keeping you restrained like an animal.

But it was him who was inhuman, after all.

You watched him take off the cap of the bottle take a long swig from the water. Swallowing hard you realized you hadn’t drunk in a while either, your throat was dry from all the screaming and crying you had done, and though you were not going to die from thirst, it still was tough to see him drink.

His previously closed eyes opened up a gap, studying you. Even before he took the bottle away from his lips, a clear smirk painted over them. “You’re thirsty, huh,” he asked while putting the cap back on. You swallowed again, before turning your head away and taking your eyes off of him. “N-No,” you mumbled, not wanting to give him any weakness of yours.

“Is that so,” he hummed, seemingly amused by you.

You refused to look at him more, listening to how his steps moved further away from the bed you were laying on. A click of a light switch, some rustling. You knew he was in the bathroom and you used your chance to tear on the restraints. But there wasn’t much time until you heard the light go out again, Shouta emerging from the shadows in the dark room.

“I told you many times now that it was useless to try and pry them off. Here.”

He leaned over you, lifting your head up a bit from the mattress. With his other hand, he directed the water bottle to your lips, letting the liquid run out and into your mouth. It’s not that you liked being fed like this. Some part of you hoped he would stop, but of course, he wouldn’t. He made you swallow the bottle whole and though your body was happy, you gasped desperately for air at the end of it.

“Good,” he purred, a self-sufficient smile on his lips.

There was a long silence between you two, something you were used to, yet not really comfortable with. His smirk never faltered, even when he took a seat on the rim of the bed, next to your body. Maybe he wanted to feign a happy smile, but he did a terrible job. His eyes kept scanning your body, hungry, objectifying. You hated his gaze.

It was like this for five minutes. You did your best to hold back all the insults you wanted to throw at him, he seemed in a better mood than before and you really did not want to ruin that. Rolling his shoulders you heard his joints pop as he let out a blissful sigh.

“A little longer now, Kitten,” he mumbled, getting up from his seat next to you. His hand drove along your stomach and thigh, something he’d often tease you with. But this time, it was a little different. This time it felt really good to have his skin against yours. “Viagra needs about half an hour to work.”

Gasping, you tore on the restraints, cheeks flushing as you realized what he had done. You should have expected him to play you so dirty as to use your basic needs to gain something he wanted. “How dare you make me drink that! You maniac!” you screamed at him, though you could hear him chuckle as he took a seat at the table nearby.

“Don’t worry about it. You will enjoy it later.”

#yandere x reader #yandere!aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #Aizawa #Aizawa Shouta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha scenarios #bnha fanfiction #bnha writing blog #mha #my hero academia #shouta aizawa #lemon #yandere!shouta #yandere!bnha #yandere

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dcmidivine · 4 years

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lofty | alec

alec enjoys some rain, rolls some joints, and has some conversations from home

Alec decided as they opened their eyes, with their first shred of consciousness, that today was going to be a lazy day. They had woken to a heavy sky, rain against the roof, and a bundle of branches scraping along their bedroom window with each rise in wind. Even the constant hum of the slot machines was muted, drowned out by the white noise of the brewing storm. Really, they mused as they pulled on a pair of slippers and padded through the always-open curtains around their room, just throw in a few foghorns and they could be right back in the Maritimes.

Looking out from the kitchen, the sun was invisible behind the low-hanging clouds. They stretched, checked their phone, and put the kettle on the stove. 6:45am- just past sunrise, though Alec had doubts it was a showstopper this morning, what with the regular colours smothered by the dark sky.

Tea in hand, grinder in pocket, rolling papers between their teeth, Alec faced the ladder to the loft, tapped their shirt collar for good luck and met skin–– what? Right, they were shirtless. That wouldn’t do. Patiently, they set everything down in a triangle at the base of the ladder to scoop a jacket off the floor and touch that collar. A drowsy sort of calm had draped over the cabin, but bad luck could hide anywhere, and it was worth spending a few extra seconds to perform their morning rituals if it meant preserving the peace. Tychokinesis from their mother and generations of sailors’ superstitions from their father meshed well, they assumed. At the very least, the two had not cancelled out yet.

Rolling joints was as relaxing as always, but seated by the open window in the loft, watching drops race down the glass, Alec’s thoughts drifted off their usual course. Something about the wind and rain, the endless grey sky, the chill that hung in the air despite the blanket around their shoulders– it all tugged at them with a swell of nostalgia. Not homesickness, no, they had no desire to return. Just an uncharacteristic degree of contemplation. Alec placed the joint down, unfinished. Turning onto their stomach, they rested their chin on their hands, stared over the edge of the loft, and thought of their house in Halifax. The steep staircase they had to climb to reach the top floor and how well it had prepared them for scaling Cabin 15’s ladder. Jane’s weekly insistence that no, Alec, you don’t need to carry all the groceries at once, you’re going to break your neck, can you even see where you’re going?. Jane’s long-suffering sigh when they started taking the steps two at a time to prove her wrong. How they had laughed it off, scampered to their room, left her to put everything away by herself.

Alec groaned and pressed their hands into their face. This was so not the mood for today, not well before noon. They rolled onto their back, the edge of the loft aligned with their shoulders so they could hang their head and arms fully over and look down at the floor. Huh. Their hair was getting long– they would be able to tie it all the way up, soon enough, if that’s what they wanted. Alec tried to imagine what Bee would say if she saw them now, a few days unshaven and hair sticking up all over the place, which word she would choose. Ruffian? Vagabond? She had called them a vagrant when they sent her a picture of their newest tattoo, acting like she hadn’t paid for a quarter of the art on their body through various gifts, and the memory pulled a smile back to their face. They dragged their phone over to them with one foot, pulled up ‘honey bee’ in their contacts, and pressed call.

By afternoon the sky remained dark, but Alec’s mood had brightened considerably. The conversation with Bee had been short– they had caught her on her break– but they emerged from it with four funny stories about her regular customers, three fresh movie recommendations, two new vocabulary words (and a partridge in a pear tree, their mind helpfully filled in). They had finished rolling their joint, taken a few lazy drags out of boredom, and fallen headfirst into a rabbit hole of marble-racing Youtube videos on their projector.

Had the video not ended when it did, Alec would have missed the phone call entirely, the quiet buzzing lost to their sighs of defeat as the lime green marble team they were rooting for came in second place again. As it were, they fumbled through the nest of blankets and pillows that had been building over the course of the day to find the source. They took a hit from their joint and pressed their phone to their ear without a spare glance as to who was calling. “Hm?” Exhaling, they watched the smoke curl towards the ceiling before returning the joint to their mouth so their hand was free to pause the autoplay. Enough marble videos for now– the same tracks over and over again were growing dull.

“Alec?” It had been so long since their last conversation that Alec struggled to place the voice. The realization hit like a blow to the chest two seconds later and they inhaled sharply, joint forgotten– immediately, they doubled over coughing, the unexpected smoke burning their throat. They dropped it in the ash tray and gulped down some cold tea, eyes watering.

If Alec hadn’t recognized her voice already, the resulting sigh on the other end of the line was unmistakable. They rubbed their face and put the phone on speaker. “Sorry. Breathed in some water.”

“Bon,” came the response a few seconds later, flat and unconvinced. “I was worried you had changed your number.”

The button to hang up was taunting them like a glowing red target, so Alec turned their phone face down before the temptation could overtake them. If it was worth breaking their three-year streak of radio silence over, this call must be important. They could try to hear her out. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint.” They chewed their lip, then added, because they couldn’t help it, “Again.”

There was another sigh, but the expected admonishment never came. Maybe she wanted something from them– or, they corrected themself (be positive, Alec) maybe this was just as awkward for her. They didn’t need to make it worse.

“Sorry,” Alec said again, with more meaning this time. They eyed up the still-smoking joint a couple feet away but left it alone, for now. “I just– I dunno, mom, it’s a right surprise hearing from you. Did something happen? Is dad alright? Why’d you call?”

“Your father’s fine. Here, I’ll–” There was a pause, a muffled exchange in the background, and then their stepmother’s voice again. “He’s busy with work at the moment. Right, anyway, we’re going to be in Halifax next week. Are you at Jane’s apartment still or have you moved into something more manageable? Your father and I are downsizing ourselves you know, this old house is too big for the two of us now that you and your sister are gone.”

Alec hadn’t known it was possible to be struck dumb and bursting with words at the same time. They swallowed a retort to wait for her to continue with her ‘chat’– she was speaking to them like they had said more than a sentence to each other in the past six years, like their last phone call had been pleasant, like Alec had made a single effort to reach out since they had dropped out of high school and fled New Waterford. Like they were the same kind of gone as Jane.

“Alors, Alec,” Aline continued after a sufficiently awkward silence, more sternly now. “You have some things in your room that you left behind. I’m assuming you won’t come back to get them and it seems a waste to throw them away, so we can drop the boxes off wherever you’ve ended up.”

“Oh? You’d go through that much effort?” Alec hated the whine in their voice more than they could express. They rubbed their face.

“Don’t be silly.” Finally, a familiar tone from Aline; the old you have no idea how much patience this conversation is costing me. Alec had never related to her more. “Why would we not? You’re our only child now, Alec, it’s time we–“

Beep. There was no sound that could be more satisfying than the silence that followed. Alec exhaled shakily, counted to three, took a steady breath, finally blocked her number. They relit the joint and wandered back to their laptop where the end credits of the marble-lympics video were still paused on screen. Scrolling through the recommended videos in the sidebar, their eyes widened– a marble surfing race? Score.

#alec #alecsp1 #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who knows #ty caitlin for the title

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fanatic-scribe · 5 years

Text

A Bottle and Some Cards

Chapter 1/?

Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012)

Word count: 2,484/2,484

Ao3: Here

Characters: Donatello (main), Casey Jones (main), everyone else

Pairing: Donatello/Casey Jones

Warnings: Aged-Up Character, Drinking Games, Slow Burn (kinda)

Ch 1 / / Ch2 (coming soon) / /

Summary:

Ethanol is the intoxicating part of alcohol and its molecules are so small that they can actually pass into the gaps between brain cells. There it can interfere with the neurotransmitters that enable all the brain’s activities. If you drink fast, alcohol will start to flood the brain. Alcohol affects parts of the brain responsible for self-control. And that is why Donatello did all this dumb shit to himself.

A/N: Just something fun I made for the hell of it. There may be other pairings in this but Idk yet.

This work will be tagged with #B&C tmnt

Chapter 1: Salt and Lime

“Pussy.” Mikey huffed at Casey as the human chugged down his cup of beer. Casey stuck out his middle finger as he drank.

“I’d say sensible,” Donnie chimed in, “the dare said to ‘drink a concoction of whatever the opponent makes using whatever they can find in the kitchen.’”

“Yeah so?” The other’s looked at him dumbfounded. Flashes of Mikey’s bizarre “food” concoctions from when he was a young chief, and them too worried to crush his dreams, flash in their minds.

Taking turns they began to reminisce of his old creations. The ‘Squid Oatmeal Pizza.’ that Raph still swears he saw an eye on. But, as Donnie pointed out at the time, “It could be a raisin. You know, from the the...oatmeal...part?” at least that's what the boys keep telling themselves. They ate the entire pizza that night.

And who could forget the ‘Apple Pizza Pie Suprise’ with ‘All the wonders of both pies together with a twist!’ Poor April, who had not yet tried his creations and was too late to hear the turtle’s warnings, found the twist quickly after chewing on the bite only once. The brother’s had watched helplessly as their best friend’s soul left her body to the depths of hell. The pizza part of this creation was a classic Mikey order that she has seen only once; double anchovies, roasted garlic, chocolate, cappuccino pizza. The only thing that had stopped her from spitting it out before Mikey had walked away was the shock of the taste, it had paralyzed her. All she could do was open her mouth to let the food fall onto her plate and push it directly into the trash next to her. None of the brothers could blame her. She remembers her bite having a certain pop to it that she tried many years to forget.

‘Asian cowboy fusion calzone dude!’ Is what had gotten Karai. By this point, Mikey was a better cook, he would make odd foods for himself all the time still but no one had told Karai. She took a small bite that Mikey offered her but immediately spit it out, much to the turtle’s amusement as he was laughing. She found out later that to Mikey “cowboy” meant beans and s’mores and “Asian” meant teriyaki sauce, ginger, and shrimp. Karai learned an important lesson that day, never trust Mikey’s original cooking.

“And that was all him being nice and trying to cook.” Casey added pouring himself another cup of beer, “This would be him making something bad for my dare.” Everyone shuttered thinking about the horrors that could have been. Except for one bubbly laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right dude.” Mikey took a drink from his cup, “I get creative when I’m drunk so I probably would have killed you.” They all chuckled at this, everyone would have rather drunk.

They loved their weekends together because they got to do this, have fun and laugh. April was in college and spent a lot of time studying, even if she came to the lair at least four times a week. Casey wasn’t in college but he had a job at his local ice arena, he helped teach young kids hockey and did general cleaning and maintenance, that kept him pretty busy. Karai was always busy, over the time she took over the Foot Clan had reclaimed their good name but she was still having to deal with certain people still loyal to Shredder or mob bosses who saw her as an easy hit. Even if they were busy they still would try to gather together every weekend to relax and half fun together. This Friday night, with alcohol already clouding their minds, they were playing Truth, Dare or Drink.

Leaning forward Casey took hold of the bottle and spun it, still leaning forward he plucked up a dare card not looking at the words yet. “Wow, Casey Jones picked dare.” Donnie chaffed, “Did not see that one coming.” Casey smiled cheerfully at the turtle with wide eyes, gap teeth, and a middle finger on both hands. There was a chuckle at their banter, Donnie had become comfortable with it and often looked forward to his time with Casey. They had truly become good friends.

As the sound rolling of glass slowly dulled so did everyone’s voice until both were silent. The neck of the bottle pointing, if a bit vaguely, at Donnie. Mikey oohed with excitement like Casey Mikey enjoyed movement rather than talking so he always preferred dares. Hopefully, this dare won’t be a drink instead.

Dramatically, Casey lifted his arm to point at the turtle, “Donatello! The cards dare you to,” He lifted the card up to read aloud, “do a body shot off your opponent.” There was a chorus of laughs and oos from everyone as Donnie shook his head.

“No, no. I’m not doing that. I’ll drink.” Everyone turned to boo him. “BOOO!” he answered.

“Donnie you haven’t done one dare!”

“Mikey, I’ve only gotten one other dare.”

“AND YOU DIDN’T DO IT!” Mikey was having a hard time trying to understand what Donnie didn’t get about this very simple topic. Just before Donnie could say anything Raph leaned forward from his spot on the couch interjecting their argument.

“Hey come on, it's fine. This is Donnie’s choice.” He paused for a second taking a drink from his cup as everyone looked surprised. He smirked as he pulled the cup away, “And he’s choosing to be a fucking killjoy.” There were a few laughs as Donnie just rolled his eyes, he reached for his cup leaning forward from his spot on the floor.

A hand reached out and stopped his wrist, he followed the hand up to April who had walked over to him from her seat next to Karai. She was crouched down sitting on her heels, he ninja training with the other girls must be going great, he had not even heard her move. “Look, Donnie,” He’s heard that tone of voice before, “if you don’t want to do this that’s fine but you had two easy dares. Just have fun no one will make fun of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Did you see us make fun of anyone else?” Thinking back Donnie could remember everyone laughing at crazy antics but then just more celebrating all together. When Leo had to let Raph draw on his face with a sharpie everyone was laughing, even Leo now sporting a lovely penis across his forehead among other drawings.

Donnie sighed, might as well give the people what they want, “Alright fine I’ll do it.” he said throwing his hands up. Before he could even stand up Casey and Mikey had already hoped up and started moving to the kitchen laughing and cheering. As everyone else stood and made their way to the kitchen Casey was sitting on the table, legs dangling over the sides, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it to the side. Bent over the open fridge Mikey was looking for the tequila Casey had brought over with the beer. The salt and lime already in his hands as Mikey grabbed the chilled bottle and placed the items on the table. Soon the rest of the group joined them at the table just as Casey began to pull his shirt over his head.

Donatello couldn’t help but see how the human had really grown into his frame, as a scientist observes an animal grow and mature. His muscles were more defined from when he was a gangly kid, his abdomen had the defined lines of muscle. His hips made a V just before his pants, this was accented further due to a small patch of hair leading from his belly button to bellow his pants. Donnie realized this felt different than observing and animal grow and mature, ‘Must be the alcohol.’ he thought to himself, because what else could it be? A shout from Mikey quickly shook him from his trance. “Dude, what the hell!”

“What?!”

“What the fuck is on your nipples?!”

The turtle’s had seen Casey shirtless before but something had changed. Now there was a visible bar of metal going through each nub where there hadn’t been last time. “Oh yeah,” Casey chuckled looking at his chest, “I got my nipples pierced.”

“Well, that part is obvious!” Shouted Raph, “When did you do this?”

“A little after the tongue at a shop.” Raph had known about the tongue. They had gotten their tongue piercing done together by Slash. Sure it may have been a ‘teenage at home piercing’ but it was straight and healed up just fine, that was almost a solid year and a half ago. Donnie rolled his eyes as he got to work cutting the lime, being very careful as he could feel his body sway.

“It’s just body modification, lots of humans do it.” Even though his words were indifferent his eye’s lingered on Casey’s chest, a slight amount of dark hair contrasted with the sparkling silver rings. There was something fascinating about it that just drew in Donnie’s attention, they suited Casey.

“Dude, it’s so weird looking!” Mikey reached forward and poked at the human’s nipple. Normally Casey was cool with being randomly touched by Mikey, especially in a party situation like this. However, as soon as he pressed down on Casey the turtle had his hand pushed away as Casey scooted away on the table with a nervous hum, laugh. He had reached up to covering his nipple with his hand and other arm held up to keep Mikey at a distance.

“Whoa! Ok!” There was still a chuckle with his words, “Hey Mikey lets not touch my nipples ok.” There was a questioning look in his eyes as well as everyone else, Casey shrugged, “They made my nipple more sensitive than I'm used too.” There was a slight pinkness in his cheeks as everyone briefly discussed this new topic. Donatello could feel his face heat up as well, ‘Must be from the alcohol.’ he thought.

Raph snatched the lime slice Donnie had cut and ran the fruit next to Casey’s belly button and poured salt over it, the crystals clung to the lime juice on his skin. After much debate, the group decided to pour the shot into the dip made by Casey’s pronounced collar bone when he leaned his head back. It wasn’t enough to fit an entire shot and he wasn’t allowed to move or he would pour the tequila but it made the body shot feel more authentic, whatever that means. Casey complained slightly about the cold fruit and liquor but no one really cared enough to change anything, besides it was already too late to change anything. So Casey just sat there, neck stretched back, leaning on one arm with a lime slice in his mouth waiting on a certain purple-clad turtle.

Donnie stepped between the human's legs a bit reluctantly, they looked at each other, well as best they could without Casey moving his head. Donnie with his arms crossed, he waited for Casey to back out because surely he would by this point. But he just sat there, lime sticking out of his gap teeth surrounded by a shit-eating grin, Donnie couldn’t let that grin win. After a few more still, silent seconds Donnie took a breath and bent down.

Donatello’s rough tongue ran over the area of salt on the human’s stomach, he could feel Casey tense slightly under his tongue, he could feel the soft, warm skin as it contracted against muscle. Donnie ran over the slight dip were his abs were more defined, he couldn’t taste the human over the tart lime and salt but some animalistic part of him wanted to. Some inner part of his brain wanted to bite the human. Vaguely in the distance, he could hear hoots of encouragement but they were drowned out by the sound of hot blood rushing to his head. Still, they pulled him back to the task at hand, already forgetting his primal thought.

As Donnie stood he rested his hands on either side of Casey on the table, he leaned forward and touched his lips to the human’s collar bone and the tequila. Donnie could have sworn he heard Casey’s breath hitch over the chorus of cheers when his tongue lightly ran over the soft alcohol wet skin. With a loud, almost comically, disruptive slurp Donnie had swallowed the alcohol, it burned his throat but the salt helped.

Moving on, he leaned forward to take the lime from the other’s mouth, he bit down and pulled only to be met with resistance. Casey held onto the lime with a smirk forcing Donnie to play a game of tug o’ war for the lime, very annoying.

The turtle looked up to glare at Casey only to find black eyes already looking at him and it felt like time had frozen. Donnie wondered if he had ever looked at Casey’s eyes. Donnie thought that he had eyes like the deepest water, black and bottomless pools of onyx trying to pull the turtle in. For a moment he thought he could explore those eyes for hours trying to find their end and never get tired.

Snapped out of his daze by Casey letting go of the lime causing Donnie to stumble back from his own tugging. This earned a chuckle from the group followed by pats on his shell and congratulations. Smiling and laughing with everyone he couldn’t help but feel his heart beat faster and harder in his chest. He glanced over at Casey and saw him putting his shirt back on and laughing with Raph about how he jumped off the table and almost fall.

Everyone was using this time to talk about what had been happening in the game and to grab more snacks and drinks. Also to pet Ice Cream Kitty, like a lot. A few people cried. Petting Ice Cream Kitty is serious business. Donnie was pouring bags of snacks into different bowls when his eye’s drifted to Casey once or twice, looking for something. He was standing in front of the open freezer having just put whipped cream on the sugary cat, he then tipped his head back to fill his mouth with whipped cream. Donnie watched as his long neck stretched back, Donnie remembered how soft his skin felt against the harsh salt taste. A more animalistic part of his brain said something but it was muffled in the back of his mind.

“Don, you ok?” April’s voice pulled him out of his daze and he realized he has spilled quite a few pretzels.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine just lost focus.” He smiled and worked to clean up the spilled pretzels. Why was he so fascinated by Casey?

‘Must be from the alcohol.’ he thought.

Notes:

Hope you liked it! I know nothing happened yet. Bummer. Well, the next chapter will be coming soon! Sometime next week Maybe

#donatello #Donnie #casey jones #jonatello #tmnt 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #donatello 2012 #B&C tmnt

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