#don’t ask about the mattress on the floor ok I can’t find my actual dog beds so I had to use an ugly one from a different mod

[bokatan]

here’s a little home plate tour from my new and seemingly stable save, just pretend that the other half of this place isn’t empty for now

#i need hashtag aesthetic settlements for art so we’re just pretending my sole is cool enough to live here #don’t ask about the mattress on the floor ok I can’t find my actual dog beds so I had to use an ugly one from a different mod #colored bottle mod my beloved #obscenely detailed furby bos flag mod my beloved #I’ll eventually be adding like. weapon displays and whatnot #im just being lazy and playing with my colored bottles #fallout #fo4 #my screenshots #fo4 screenshots #fallout 4 mods

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Affirmation•

Summary: Reader's dad is a dick, Bakugo does the big comfort. Just a short little comfort piece.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader (both 18+)

Warnings: Little bit of angst, degredation (not the fun kind), bad relationship with father, Bakugo is not great at comfort but he gives it the old college try.

Word Count: 1,640

A/N: This was for a request, the basic gist of the request was the reader having an asshole dad that doesn't support them, Bakugo over hearing it, reader breaking down a little then Bakugo giving some comfort. I hope you like it!❤️

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"You shouldn't have moved out so young, it was stupid and impulsive." The harsh, too familiar voice barks over the phone.

"I know." You choke out.

But you left me with no choice. You want to say that, but you don't have the guts.

"You knew damn well you'd never be able to make a living off of doodles."

Another wave of nausea washes over you, your hand tightens around your phone and starts to shake.

"I know…" You don't know, you don't agree, but you can't argue, it would be useless.

"Dad, please don't." You beg, voice wobbly with the tears you're holding back.

You should never have called them for money, you knew better. What choice do you have though? With three dollars to your name, rent to pay and groceries to buy.

You should be able to call your parents… should be. They've never supported your choices, especially your dad.

"Look, you've gotta figure this one out, I can't cure incompetence." Ice settles in your gut as he hangs up.

He wouldn't help you, your mom wouldn't help you.

They had always laughed at your desire to become a comic book illustrator, calling it a useless path, a waste of time. Defeated and helpless, you crawl into bed.

You'll give your two weeks tomorrow, find a real job, maybe keep drawing as a hobby.

The thought makes you sob, the feeling settles into the base of your being, deep and aching.

"What are you crying for?" A grumble of a voice echoes from your doorway.

"Suki, please, not now." Katsuki is a lot of things, comforting is not one of them.

He waits for a moment, you just bury your face further into the blankets, clutching a pillow to your aching chest.

"Was that your dad?" He asks, his voice taking on a softer tone.

You don't answer, just nod and sniffle.

You hear him whisper something about shitty people, then feel the mattress dip.

"He's an asshole, he's gonna act like an asshole."

Not helping.

You flop onto your back, tears pouring out of your eyes as you glare at him.

"Shit, you're actually crying." He scrambles up the bed, he grabs you and hauls you into his lap, almost cradling you like a baby.

"What happened? Do I finally get to blast him to pieces? Just say the word baby, I'll-"

"I'm gonna stop drawing." You admit quietly.

"Huh?" He sounds almost offended.

You snuggle into his warm chest then blink up at him, ruby eyes look at you with honest confusion.

"I can't keep doing it. I can't afford anything, I'm not that good, my parents hate me for it." God it hurts, it makes your insides feel so raw.

He grabs the side of your cheek, forcing you to make eye contact.

"Fuck that, fuck them. You're incredible, -hey, look at me-" Halfway through his sentence you pull your head away and press your face into his chest.

"Hey, firecracker, look at me, please?" The nickname pulls at your heart a little, he's called you that since you met, since you were the only one with enough balls to give his shit right back to him.

When you refuse to look up, he just holds you tightly to his chest. You soak up the body heat, inhale his smell, revel in the way he clings to you.

"Listen to me, then, you're talented, you're capable, and you're so fucking beautiful. Parents are just a bunch of old dumbasses that get off on telling their kids what they can't do." He's trying so damn hard to keep his voice down, you can tell by the way he's gripping you.

"I'll help you with whatever you need." He places a kiss on top of your head, a little rough, but that's just Katsuki.

"No, I can do this, I just have to get a better job." You insist with a pitiful voice.

"I know you can, but you don't have to. I can't let you give up on drawing, not with the talent you have." He runs a hand through your hair as he talks, the motion soothes you immensely.

"I know parents suck, especially when you don't do what they have planned for you, but you have to keep doing what you love. Please, let me help you." He almost sounds frantic, it makes your heart melt.

Katsuki loves you, you know he loves you, he'd bring buildings to the ground for you.

"It's too much, I can't ask you to help with all of it." You wipe your eyes with your sleeve before looking up at him again.

"Is living here the biggest issue?" He asks, still running his hands through your hair.

You nod, defeated and overwhelmed.

"Move in with me." When he says it, he sounds almost as shocked as you feel.

"What?" You ask.

"I'm serious, when was the last time we actually slept in our own homes? Or even showered separately, there's no point in living apart anymore."

He has a point, a very good point. Though, something doesn't sit well with you.

"I'm not a charity case, Suki, would you even be asking me this if I wasn't crying over my dad?" Your question is genuine, but he seems so hurt by it.

"I would be, I've wanted to."

He's dead serious.

You scramble to sit up straight, moving so you can straddle him as he leans against the headboard. You grab the sides of his face and make him look directly at you.

"Katsuki, if this is a prank I will fucking kill you." You say, shaking him a little as you talk.

A small smile creeps onto his face, eyes full of adoration. He reaches up to hold your face as well, thumbs catching the remaining tears.

"You couldn't if you tried, but it's not a prank. Please, come live with me." He grabs one of your hands, brings it to his mouth, then kisses your palm.

"I'm also serious about you being talented." He kisses your wrist.

"And capable." He pulls you in to kiss your neck.

"And so fucking beautiful." He plants one, dedicated kiss to your lips.

"Ok." You say, breathless.

"You will?" He asks, his voice taking on a giddy tone.

His hands snake around your waist and starts kissing you wherever he can, frantic and needy.

"And you're gonna keep drawing?" He pauses, looking up at you with sweet, honest eyes.

You turn to mush when he looks at you like that, without fail.

"Do you think I should?" You play with the collar of his t-shirt, quickly forgetting your father's harsh words.

"Baby, I love your work, I love watching you work. Please don't stop because of some fuck head that couldn't see talent if it hit him in the nuts." He lays his chin on your chest, still looking up at you with a devoted gaze.

"Can we get a dog?" You ask, hands coming up to play with his wild, blond hair.

He gives you a dramatic pout before pressing his face into your sternum.

"We can get a cat." He says against your chest, voice muffled by your body.

You giggle as he pulls you closer.

"I'll keep drawing if we get a dog." You bargain.

He grumbles against your chest before pulling away to look up at you.

"A rescue?" He asks, bright eyes looking up at you hopefully.

There he is, the giant teddy bear hiding under the man that swears like a sailor and makes threats like a hit man.

"Of course." You lean down and kiss his nose.

Somehow, through his reassurance and his desire to have you close, Suki has managed to dull the ache of the parental disapproval.

"I love you." You sigh, hands snaking around his neck.

"I love you more, and I'll wipe the floor with anyone who makes you feel like you're less than incredible." He leans up to kiss you long and hard, lips working perfectly against yours.

"Can we go look at dogs now?" He asks when he pulls away.

"Oh? Mr. 'We can get a cat.'?" You tease him, ruffling his hair as you slide off his lap.

You try to walk towards the closet, but he catches you around the waist from behind, caging you with his strong arms.

"You're talented, say it." His voice is low in your ear, making goosebumps raise on your flesh.

He has this thing that he makes you do, something about verbally affirming yourself until you believe it.

You roll your eyes and pull at his arms.

"Huh uh, no dog until you say it." He kisses your neck gently.

"No dog, no drawing." You shoot back.

"Baby."

"Fine, I'm talented." You huff.

"You're capable." He continues, squeezing you tighter.

"I'm capable." You don't believe it, but Suki does, and that's what matters.

He spins you in his arms, hands coming up to cradle your cheeks.

"You're beautiful." It's more of a breath, a whisper, his voice soft and soothing.

You glare up at him, not willing to say those words. He gives you a serious look, all stern and unwavering.

"I'm beautiful." You say as quietly as you can.

"You are." He kisses your forehead, breathing out as he pours his love over you.

"Who's a badass?" He says as he pulls away, a smile cracking across his face.

"I'm a badass." You can't help but laugh, chest bubbling with admiration for your determined boyfriend.

"Hell yeah you are," He presses one more kiss into your lips, "Let's go get that damn dog."

Katsuki Bakugo is many things, maybe comforting isn't one of them, but he's learning.

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugo fluff #katsuki fluff #katsuki x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou

[drrrsankai-blog]

Reality TV Show Writing Meme!

Rules:

- Choose 6 OC's canon characters.

- Put your OC's names in list of numbers and answer the questions with your OC's names instead of the number, write at least 100 words to answer.

- Once an OC is evicted, you must choose the next consecutive number to fill in the question. E.g. If [1] is evicted, choose [2]. If [6] is evicted, go back round to [1]. (I fucked this part up but idc)

Cast:

1. Aoba

2. Shizuo

3. Namie

4. Ran

5. Shingen

6. Erika

Warning:

OOC (gets worse as it goes along honestly), c r a c k, dark humor, insanity, and Namie being Namie (and Erika being Erika...).

1. Welcome to the House! Introduce the OC's and what their luxury item would be.

[1] Aoba: Luxury item? A pool.

[2] Shizuo: Another pack of cigarettes. *doesn't know what it is*

[3] Namie: Well, there's not much of anything that comes to mind... except a fine night out with my darling Seiji~

[4] Ran: Fucking ew.

[5] Shingen: Hmm...hm, hm, hm. I need to think about this one...

[6] Erika: All the doujinshis on my wishlist!

2. There are 3 bedrooms, 1 with 2 double beds, 1 with 2 single beds and 1 with only 2 matresses on the floor. Who pairs up with whom, is there an argument over who should get the better room, and how is this resolved?

No one's happy, except Erika who comments that it feels like a sleepover (and Ran who yells out that 'we're literally living together for this'). However, Namie has already grabbed Erika's arm to lead her into the room with two single beds, because 'the only man she'll sleep in a room with is Seiji'. Erika doesn't get time to object before the door slams behind them. Leaving only the other four...

Shingen rubs his chin, trying to decide which remaining options were better. If he chose the room with the double bed, he surmised he might get lonely since there'd be no other weight in it, so the mattresses on the floor sounded like a better option.

Shizuo heads into the room with the double beds. No one follows him in.

Aoba and Ran look at each other, mutually scowling the thought of having to share a room with the blonde, then scowl at each other. Ultimately, they decide on taking the room with the mattresses on the floor.

By the time Shingen makes his decision, he finds everyone gone and the room he had decided on occupied. With a droop of his shoulder and a small, disappointed sigh, he heads into the double-bedded room with Heiwajima.

Then...

"Wait a minute, this is my house! Why the hell don't I get to call the shots?!"

Namie, laying in bed and staring up at the ceiling, hearing Shingen's voice: What an idiot.

3. Now they've decided where they're sleeping, they make their way to the living room but find that it is empty expect for a few large and heavy boxes which hold the furniture which [1] and [4] have been told to put together within a time limit, how well do they do?

Aoba: Do I look like someone with a body who can handle all this hard labor?

Ran: Thanks a fucking lot, pipsqueak.

Aoba: Seriously. Why can't we make Heiwajima do it?

Ran: Because he'll crush our fucking skulls?

Aoba: Oh.

Aoba: Well, if I told him you asked, then I'll both live and not have to do it.

Ran: *throws an empty box at him*

4. The furniture's together, now for dinner and a rest! [2] and [5] are designated for cooking first. What do they cook? Do they work well together? Does their cooking go down well?

Shingen: *wearing an apron, flattening dough with a rolling pin* I'm baking a cake~! Teehee~

Sheenwuh: *walks through the door, notices Shingen, and then walks back out it*

Shizuo: Um.

Shizuo just sits on the couch eating potato chips instead.

5. A few days pass and a relationship is growing between [3] and [6], is it a good one or is it a bad one? What measures are made to make their relationship blossom, or stop them from attacking each other on sight?

Erika: *talking nonstop about BL, cosplay, and anime*

Namie's internal dialogue: [shut up shut up SHUT THE FUCK UP]

Namie ends up leaving, throwing Shingen out and angrily informing Heiwajima he has a new roommate.

Shizuo is actually taken aback and does not argue.

6. A week has passed and it's time for an eviction! Someone hasn't put in their penny's worth and needs to be gotten rid of. Choose one OC, and have them say their weepy, or exuberant, goodbyes.

Ran: Good fucking riddance.

Namie: *bored voice, dull tone* I'm so sad.

Erika: Aw, maybe next time. :(

Shizuo: Do I know you?

Shingen: Do I know you either?

Aoba: I'm a student. I don't have a job. I can't pay rent. What do you expect?

7. There's a siren in the middle of the night! [1] has tried to escape with [3] as accomplice, however they are both caught, who blames whom, and what is their punishment? Do the other house-mates suffer for it?

Aoba: I'm still here?

Ran: You're still here? Great.

Namie: Why did I agree to this...?

Shingen: For money?

Everyone looked at the floor where there were several pieces of glass from the window having been broken.

Shingen: Well, if you win, you can use it to pay me back~!

Namie: Can't wait...

8. The next task appointed for them arrives in the form of a letter and a pack of bendy wires. They pick up the letter and read that housemates [2] and [4] must make a cube using the fewest number of wires possible within 30 minutes of time. Do they manage it?

Ran: What the fuck? Why?

Shizuo: Uh, nah.

9. That evening, they find alcohol in the refridgerator and a karaoke machine in the living room. However, it is incredibly hard to set up and it's instructions are in Japanese. [5] and [6] are bullied into geting it sorted. How do they get on?

Erika: *staring hard at the instructions* Well, I recognize the characters... It's just...

Shingen: Those bastards! This isn't the version I ordered!

Erika: ...this is in Chinese, not Japanese.

10. Eviction time! Eviction this time is based upon house-mates behaviour and performance in the last week, and sadly, [1] and [3]'s escape attempt has not impressed the higher hand. [1] or [3] must go, choose, and have them say goodbye.

Aoba: I thought I left 6 questions ago...?

Namie: *leaves without a second thought*

Shingen: What about my window???

Shingen looked at Aoba who merely shrugged his shoulders. Then it occrured to him...

"You two were really going to climb down from a 30 story building...?"

"The danger makes it exciting."

Namie, thinking to herself: I was thinking of just going down the fire escape, but okay.

11. Confessions Time! Having been together for two weeks, how do the house-mates feel about the others? How do they feel about the evictions? Let's listen to them now.

Erika: Kishitani-san is okay for a roommate. He's kind of odd, though...

Ran: You want to talk about being weird?

Shingen: You're okay yourself, Karisawa. A bit hard to follow, but okay.

Ran: My little rat-think of a brother is finally gone. Couldn't be better.

*phone rings*

Shingen: Hold on a moment.

Shingen: Hello?

Sheenwuh: Dad, when can I come home?

Shingen: Anytime, son.

Sheenwuh: No, I mean, when is whatever's going on over?

Shingen: Can't hear you either, son, roger. *hangs up*

Shizuo: ...

Shizuo: Do I have to be here or can I leave too?

12. [1] and [4] have become very close, and [6] is jealous and decides to confront [4] about it, what happens?

Erika: Wow, so you miss your brother after all~!

Ran: What??

Aoba: *peeks through hole in the wall* Peekaboo!

Ran: *screams*

Erika: Ah, brotherly love... I think that'll be the next BL manga theme I read about...!

Shizuo:

Shizuo: I've decided that I'm killing myself instead.

13. Their next task is to simply tidy the house, however, they have to do it blindfold, [5] cheats and [2] does nothing, such disobedience so late in the game earns them a time-out and their luxury item is taken away, how do they cope?

Shingen: Ooh~! Kinky.

Shizuo: I'm going to be next to jump out this fucking window I swear to god--

Erika: (But nobody actually jumped out the window...);

14. Due to the cheating in the previous task, the electricity in the building is cut, and the living room is locked off from them. [4] suggests a game of hide-and-seek, does anyone get injured in the dark? Does anyone take this moment to be naughty with another housemate?

Ran: Anyone wanna play Hide-and-Get-Hammered?

Shingen: Is that a drinking game, I see?

Ran: Heh.

Erika: I'm pretty that's not how it's played... or what Izumii-kun means... *she inclines her head, trying to see if Ran's holding something behind him*

15. The living room is open to them again and inside is a television, an XBOX and four Guitar Hero guitars, a not stuck on the television let's them know that it is a play-off between [3] and [6].

Who wins, and did they realise the loser would be evicted?!

Neither of the two are particularly interested in video games, but it gets pretty heated between them (Ran and Erika). Ran calls her a "fujo bitch" throughout, and Erika wins by sticking her bare foot in his lap and freaking him out, causing him to fall onto the floor (and into the loser's seat).

Ran: Yeah, whatever. Fuck this.

Erika: Well, Kishitani-san, it looks like it's just you and me.

Shingen: That it seems.

Shizuo: Uh, guys... I'm still here...

16. With only three house-mates left, tension starts to rise, [1] becomes super-competitive and starts taking over any tasks given to them. [1] accepts a task before even hearing it, and it's challenging them to sit in a bath of maggots for half an hour.

How does [1] react and do they complete the task?

Shizuo: That's fucking disgusting.

Erika: But you said you'd do anything...

Shizuo: *stares at her, eyebrow twitching*

Erika: ...OK.

17. Another Confession. Poor [2] is starting to suffer from cabin fever and is sure the others are out to get them. Let's listen to their ranting.

Shizuo: You know what? Fuck these nutjobs. *leaves*

18. The house-mates realise they are quite quickly running out of food, and find three unlabelled tins in a cupboard, with blindfolds next to them and a letter explaining that two tins are sliced peaches, one is dog-food, they must each choose a tin with their blindfolds on.

Who gets the dog-food, and evicted?

Erika: *walking in the direction of Kadota's place, smiling* Aw, I hope Dotachin's dog will like this brand...

19. The final task denotes the winner of the entire game, the final two house-mates are given an envelope, inside is the instrutions of their last task, they simply are.

"Choose."

Does this shock them? Do they choose themselves as the winner or the other? Do they give their own victory up, or are they selfish?

"Dad, I fucking live here."

"Hmm. I guess that makes both of us the victors, then?"

"Dad, why is there no food in the house?" the brunette asks, looking through the fridge. Then he looks towards the balcony and nearly screams.

"WHY IS THE WINDOW BROKEN???"

20. Now it's (quite abruptly) over, tag someone!

I will not but you can steal it. xD

#Aoba #Shingen #Erika #Namie #Ran #writing memes #I am tired goodnight

[marvelship-oneshots]

TRAPPED TOGETHER (STUCKONY)

PART 1 OF 2

N/A AU where Steve and Bucky finally managed to move into their new apartment but it turns out that the landlord accidentally sold it to someone else as well. [2k words]

Bucky shut the door after his boyfriend finally managed to enter in their apartment. "It was about time" Bucky hissed, with a hand on his waist. Steve gently laid the boxes he was carrying on the floor, just wanting to let them go, but not knowing what was in there and essentially he didn't want to break anything. He looked at his boyfriend. "It seems to me that I was he one carrying all of those boxes" "Yeah, well, you're not the one with one arm" he said hinting at the empty sleeve of his leather jacket. Steve sarcastically rolled his eyes. "What? I carried one bag!" He said, holding the canvas bag that was hanging from his shoulder. Steve smiled and opened his arms, waiting for Bucky. Bucky put his arm around Steve's neck. Steve kissed his temple. "Home sweet home baby" "We did it, Stevey"

Bucky was putting the pillow into the pillowcase, holding one corner in his mouth, while Steve was laying on the bed trying to hold down every corner of the bed sheet when they heard the door shutting close. Bucky let go of the pillow, looking at Steve. "You heard that?" "What?" Steve asked without letting go of the sheet. "The door. Steve someone is in the house" Bucky whispered. Steve rolled his eyes and went back tucking the bed sheet under the corner of the mattress. "Steve, I'm telling you, someone broke in" "Buck, it's probably nothing" "Steeve!" Bucky whisper-screamed "Go check, pretty please" Steve got up and walked towards the door, Bucky following him as if he was a scared little children. "So much for being a soldier, huh Buck?" "Listen! You see? I have only one arm" Steve chuckled. "It seriously got to stop being the excuse for everythin-" The couple arrived in the living room and stopped. "I told you, someone broke in" whispered Bucky, hiding behind Steve. Bucky wasn't exactly tiny, or short, but Steve's shoulder were broad enough to hide him completely. "And you are...?" asked Steve, looking at the man from head to toe. He was short, very short, and rather slim. But everyone would seem tiny compared to Steve's massive figure. He had short brown hair and a nicely shaved beard. The man was wearing a tailored grey suit and an undone tie was hanging from his neck. He must have been older then the pair, but not any less charming. He was actually very handsome. "I'm Tony, I bought this apartment" Bucky and Steve looked at each other. "Uh, I'm pretty sure you did not since we bought this apartment." said the blonde, since Bucky was still partially hiding behind his boyfriend. "There must have been some kind of mistake. See, I signed the lease" said Tony showing the signed papers. Steve took the same documents that Bucky was handing him. "Yeah, we did too. See, apartment 4B" Tony checked again if he was in the right apartment and scratched his neck. "We'll call the agency in the morning" they agreed. "Uhm, I'll take the couch then" Tony said, looking at the two of them, imagining that they must have already settle in the only bedroom of the house. "Goodnight I guess" said Bucky, holding Steve's arm. Tony looked at the pair walk away. They were both handsome men. Strangely, the blond's physique was not the first thing that fought his eyes, it was the brunet's piercing blue eyes. Those were the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen.

"What?" screamed the trio in unison. "I'm so incredibly sorry, guys" "So, let me make things clear, you sold the same apartment TWICE, to two different clients?" asked Tony, slamming his hands on the agent's desk. The agent nodded. "And you can't refund one of us either?" "Exactly" Tony rolled is eyes walking it of the door.

"What are we gonna do Steve?" Bucky asked sitting at the kitchen table. Tony wasn't back yet. "I don't know, Buck, I don't know" "Happiness is just not for us, right?" Bucky shed a tear, Steve could hear his voice breaking. "No, no, no Buck, hey." Steve cupped his face with both hands, whipping the tear away. "Don't say that. I promised you that everything will be fine and I'll find a way out of this" Steve kissed his forehead. "I love you Buck" "To the moon and back" Bucky said, putting his hand over Steve's. The door shut close and Bucky jumped on the chair, not expecting any noise. "Uhm, hey, sorry guys" said Tony, wanting to become invisible. "Come in, it's your house too after all" finally spoke Bucky, for the first time. Tony sat at the table, on the other side from Bucky. "So, what are we going to do?" He asked. Steve and Bucky looked at each other. "We really cannot afford another apartment" the blonde said looking at his boyfriend. "Me too guys" replied Tony "Maybe having a roommate won't be so bed, right babe?" Bucky asked Steve, who looked at Tony waiting for his reaction. "I mean, it seems to be our best option" The three settled in the now shared apartment. The apartment was a one-room apartment with a rather small bedroom, but the living area was rather big. They decided that the couple would sleep in the bedroom and Tony would settle in the living room, on a sofa bed. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best they could take from the situation.

Week 1 It was 5:30 in the morning and the door closed shut and, hearing the noise, Tony woke up. He rolled in his bed, looking at whoever was going out. It was actually Steve, coming home from his daily morning run. It was December and outside it was still dark. And cold. "Why on earth would you do it?" Tony mumbled observing Steve shrugging his raincoat from the snow. Steve silently laughed. "Hey, I am the one who brings you donuts for breakfast" Tony smiled, getting in a more comfortable position to look at the blond man. "Mh yeah, you're an angel" Steve shook his head it's a small smile and walked out, towards his bedroom. "Go back to sleep Tony" Tony turned his head to follow Steve. He was wearing tight thermal pants and thigh t-shirt, too small for him, that was probably's Bucky's. "Bucky, you lucky man" he mumbled, pulling up the covers and gong back to sleep.

Week 2 "Shit shit shit fuck" Bucky screamed, throwing the lid of the mixer in the sink. "Language" Steve screamed back from the bedroom. Tony was reading on the couch and looked up, smiling. "Did he really say 'Language'? Bucky nodded, smiling. Tony looked at the brunet. He was all covered in the smoothie he was trying to blend. Tony walked towards Bucky, laughing. "Here, let me help you" Tony tried to reach for the towel to help Bucky clean up. Their hands touched. Slightly, but Bucky felt it and blushed. He felt his cheeks getting hotter and turned away before Tony would notice it. But he did. He thought it was cute.

Week 4 It was raining cats and dogs outside and the Steve was already late for work. He had to prepare for an important meeting and couldn't possibly be late. But obviously the rain was not enough, the car had to stop halfway out of the garage. Steve grunted and ran up the stairs back to his apartment, hoping that Tony would be awake already. Well, he wasn't. It was still early for night owl Tony but he really needed some help with his car. "Tony. Tony please wake up!" Steve put a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony sat up abruptly. "What? Who died?" Steve rolled his eyes. "My car Tony, my car died" Tony laid back, pulling his pillow over his face. "If i knew a dead thing would get so much of your attention, I would have died three weeks ago" he mumbled, not knowing that Steve heard every single word. "Tony please, I need to get to work" Tony got up, grabbed his jacket and his shoes and walked out. "Ok Captain Handsome, I'm going. See?" When they reached the car, Tony opened the hood and started looking for what was wrong, bending over the engine. Steve, on he other hand, had a few calls to make, but he didn't even select the contact to call, being too busy looking at Tony's small body wielding whatever he was wielding. "If you wanted to stare at my butt you could have jut asked and I would have bent for you any time" Tony said, winking at Steve before heading back to their apartment.

Week 6 Tony was finally alone. For the first time in six weeks, he was the only breathing being in the house. Don't get him wrong, he loved Steve and Bucky's presence and he loved that someone was always there. But he also loved his freedom. When he lived alone -well, he lived with his parents, but they were rarely home-  he could do whatever he wanted to. He found clothes constricting and whenever he could he ditched them- all of them. But, of course, he could not go around the apartment naked, he would seem weird at the eyes of Steve and Bucky. If they started ditching clothes as well, he would have considered reprising his old habit. The thought of the two soldiers in their birthday suit provoked a reaction that caused his pants to tighten around his waist. That was his clue to strip down of everything and feel the freedom he had incredibly missed. "Bucky? Steve?" he screamed, tossing his t-shirt on the floor. As no answer came back, he unbuckled his belt and let both his pants and boxers slip down to his ankles. Tony let out a long, loud sigh. He walked to the kitchen and took a glass, pouring way too much whiskey in it. He started walking around the house. At some point, when nothing interested him anymore, he finally decided that is was time for him to take a shower. Confident that Steve and Bucky wouldn't be home for a long time, the only thing he took in the bathroom with him, was the bottle of whiskey. Tony didn't know how long he had been in the shower. He was not even washing himself anymore. He was just letting the hot water run down on him. The bottle was now empty and he was definitely drunk, but he didn't care. When he felt it was the right time, Tony walked out of the shower and stood on the carpet, waiting for as much water as possible to fall on the ground, looking at himself  in the mirror. The room was spinning around him, he needed to lay down. Tony stumbled towards the door, finally managing to open it. In front of the door, with a hand on the handle, was standing Bucky, half naked, with only a  towel around his waist. It was a dream, wasn't it? Bucky looked Tony from head to toe, his mouth slightly open. "Tones" he whispered. "Buck" Tony whispered back, putting a hand on Bucky's chest, wanting to check if it was real or just another drunken hallucination. Bucky's chest was solid and unexpectedly warm. He couldn't take his hand away and Bucky couldn't move hie eyes from the shorter man. He knew it was wrong. He had Steve, he loved Steve, but since the first time Tony had touched him, he couldn't stop thinking about his hand all over hi body. To be honest, he wanted both Tony ad Steve's hands all over his body. Bucky was the first to wake up from that state of trance. "Uhm.. yeah, can I?" Shook his had, taking his hand away from Bucky.  "Uh, yeah of course" Bucky moved from the doorway, giving Tony space to walk out of the bathroom, trying not to look at his naked body. While Bucky walked in, Tony stood still in the corridor, looking at Bucky's perfect body. "Uhm see yah, Tony" said Bucky before closing the door. "See yah" Tony whispered back one the door was closed and Bucky couldn't hear him anymore.

#marvel #tony stark #buckytony #tony x bucky #steve x tony #mcu stony #stucky #winteriron #winterironshield #stuckony

[dexiao]

Business trip (m) | Xiao Dejun

Synopsis: Y/N and Dejun worked together for 8 years as book editors and never got along, but they’re forced to travel together to a small town and get stuck there because of a snowstorm.

Pairing: Xiao Dejun x female reader

Words: 4.9k

Genre: Book editors!au, light angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut

Warnings: safe sex, oral (female receiving), handjob (male receiving) 

A/N: I guess this took me about 3 weeks or more to write because I just ran out of inspiration, and then when I finally got inspiration again I was super busy with college stuff. About the plot, I think it showed a bit of dominance from Dejun, BUT if I decide to keep writing in this same universe/context, it’ll probably show a lot more of a sub!Xiaojun (I just get these vibes, idk?). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your opinion and/or if you found any mistakes!

This is a work of fiction. It does not portray the real personality of the member.

Books are probably my favorite thing on Earth besides my dog. I love the thought of living surrounded by books because it made me feel safe. Thus, it made just perfect to sense to work as a book editor.

In general, I felt satisfied about my job. I mostly did things I enjoy and with people I feel comfortable with – except by one other editor, Xiao Dejun. We were hired at the same time, 8 years ago, and never really got along.

At first, I tried my best to be nice and friendly to him – just like I acted with everyone else at the company – and he seemed to buy it for some time, until he changed overnight and started acting like a bitch. And by ‘acting like a bitch’ I don’t mean only not doing any favors I asked him. Actually, he wouldn’t do the bare minimum, like holding the elevator door or answering the telephone for me when I went to the restroom.

So you can imagine how co-working with him must be the least likeable thing about my job. That’s what made me angrier when our boss demanded that we traveled together.

“Don’t even look at me with those faces.” John, the boss, stated. “You both know Dejun is our best editor on thriller stories and Y/N is best with dealing with people. Especially in this case that the writer never published anything on his entire life.” I sighed and noticed Dejun getting ready to complain as Johnny made a brief pause. “I know you to are my best choice. I don’t give a shit if you hate each other because I trust both of you as professionals.”

That settled it.

And that’s why we traveled to Irisburg in the middle of the winter in the first place.

It took about 3 hours by car – I was driving – to get to the small town. The trip was silent most of the time, the only sounds being my Arctic Monkeys playlist, the car’s engine and eventually the rain pouring.

Dejun and I talked strictly talked about the reason of the trip and nothing else. In other words, we talked for about 15 minutes only, and avoided saying anything for the rest of the time.

The meeting lasted around 2 hours. Since the writer was a beginner, we had to explain everything about how the company works, his rights and duties. I’d hypocritical if I didn’t admit John was right. Dejun and I conducted the reunion very well.

The problem was that during the meeting, an unexpected snowstorm began. We were fully clothed, prepared to face the cold weather, but not to face the road block due to the snow. Needless to say we both were pissed off by the situation.

“Maybe we should call John.” Dejun suggested. “Tell him about the meeting and about this.”

“You’re right.” I said, already reaching for my phone.

“As always.”

I rolled my eyes at his words, pressing the call button and discovering that my phone was out of service.

“Oooh hell, no. This can’t be.” I widened my eyes at Dejun, who was staring at me with a confused expression. “Is your phone working?”

Dejun checked his phone.

“Fuck, no.”

I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair.

“Let’s find somewhere we can use a phone, then.”

“Alright, and keep calm.” Dejun said, the stress palpable in his tone.

“I am calm, I’m just frustrated.” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road and looking for somewhere we could stop at.

“I was telling that to myself.”

After a few minutes we stopped at a convenience store. I went straight to the restroom to wash my face and try to calm down. Though I tried not to show that to Dejun, I was really nervous about being stuck in this town.

A moment later, I exited the restroom and found Dejun talking to the cashier, seeming worried. As the cashier glanced at me, Dejun turned around to face me as well.

“It seems like we have no way out. All roads are blocked until the snow stops and the streets are cleaned. Even if we call Johnny, there’s nothing to do.” He stated.

“That is great, really. Is there even a hotel in this fucking town?”

“There is one three blocks from here.” The cashier said, obviously containing a laugh at my reaction.

“Thank you, Zack.” Dejun replied and walked towards me, lowering his voice and putting a hand on my arm. “Look, Y/N. I don’t like this situation either, but it could be worse. At least we won’t have to sleep in your car.”

Although what I interpreted from his sentence was more like ‘at least we won’t have to sleep together’, I had to admit Dejun was right again, so I exhaled heavily. So I gave up, feeling my shoulders shrink.

“Let me just grab some coffee and then we can go, alright?”

“Sure.” He smiled briefly. “Maybe we should eat too.”

So we ended up eating sandwiches and drinking coffee at the convenience store, complaining about the situation and grabbing some snacks for the night. We ran to the car, trying to protect from the wind and the snow the best way we could.

As we entered the hotel, I already noticed how modest it was. The building only had three floors, no elevator and the decoration was very simple. The receptionist was a man who seemed to be around 50 years old.

“Good evening, how may I help this beautiful couple?” He smiled. I looked at Dejun in amusement, just to see his face becoming red.

“Actually we’re not a couple.” I responded, smiling fondly. Dejun waited behind me. “We’d like two single rooms.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. But we only have one room left and only has a double bed.” I felt my expression change at his words.

“Isn’t there a couch or a spare mattress?” Dejun asked, coming closer to the table.

“There isn’t, I’m sorry.” The man answered, visibly apologetic.

“It’s ok. You can have the room, I’ll sleep on the car. Just let me take a shower.” I suggested.

Dejun nodded and the man gave us the key to room n. 23.

Dejun and I climbed up the stairs to room n. 23 in silence.

I unlocked the door and we both stepped in, taking a good glance at the room.

It wasn’t that bad. The bed had lilac sheets. There were some flyers, a lamp and a vase with artificial peonies on top of the nightstands on both sides of the bed. There was a desk and a chair close to the window, and an open wardrobe with blankets and towels.

“Do you want to shower first? I don’t mind” He asked, walking towards a nightstand to look at the flyers.

“Alright.”

I grabbed a clean towel and threw it over my right shoulder, heading to the bathroom. When I opened the door, I realized another issue.

“Actually…” I turned to Dejun, who mindfully read something. “I just realized I don’t have clean clothes to put on.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and mouth.

“Crap, me neither.”

I dropped the towel on the chair and closed the bathroom door again, sighing.

“Maybe we should ask the receptionist if there’s a Target or something nearby.” I suggested, already grabbing my purse and walking out of the room. Dejun followed me.

It turned out that there’s wasn’t a Target nor anything nearby. We ended up back to the convenience store from before. And there weren’t many options on what to buy.

It was pretty compelling to browse for clothes with someone I am not close at all. Knowing each other and working together for years never made that.

Therefore, I left the store with new panties, sweatpants and a hairbrush. Dejun also bought underwear and sweatpants (matching colors with mine since there were only gray pants on sale), along with razor blades.

Back in the hotel, Dejun started laughing as we entered the room. So I raised my eyebrows at him.

“You gotta admit, Y/N. Even though we don’t get along, we’ll have a lot of stories to tell from this event.”

I let out a breathy laugh and went to the shower.

As the hot water poured on my body, I tried to keep my mind from becoming paranoid. Everything would be alright. I would sleep in the car, get up by the sunrise, drink coffee and read my book at the convenience store until the snow melted, and by tomorrow noon we would be back home.

Out of the shower, I dressed up and blow dried my hair as quick as possible. When I left the bathroom, Dejun stood by the window, with the towel hanging on this neck.

Our eyes met and he went straight to the bathroom after realizing it was his turn, but stopped before closing the door and faced me again.

“What do you think about having dinner here? It’s getting late and I doubt there’s any place we can go by now. Besides, I took a peek at the menu and it seems pretty decent.”

“Can I think about it while you shower?” I asked, pondering the pros and cons of just eating the snacks I bought previously.

“Sure.” He said and closed the door.

I laid in the bed and reached for the menu flyer from the nightstand.

I opened my eyes and frowned, not remembering where I was for a moment. I had been sleeping for who knows how much time. Dejun was at the door, talking to someone. I sat on the bed and rubbed my eyes, hearing him shut the door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He stated, apologetic. He held a tray with pizza and coke. Also, Dejun was wearing glasses, which he never did at the company. And he looked pretty good like that. In sweatpants, glasses, hair still a little wet. A pretty domestic sight to look at.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for sleeping too.” I smiled, feeling shy.

“Anyway, since you were asleep I ordered pizza for us.” He motioned his head towards the table where he left the tray.

On top of the chair in front of the table laid a wet towel, that I supposed was Xiao’s since I left mine next to me on the bed.

Then I realized that it remained untouched. It was almost one hour and forty minutes since Dejun entered the shower, so he must have been sitting on that chair all of this time.

That made me feel even more ashamed of falling asleep.

“Y/N, is everything ok?” He asked, sitting on the chair.

“Oh, sure! Just let me wash my face before we eat ‘cause I’m still half asleep.” I responded, grabbing the towel next to me and heading to the bathroom, hearing Xiao laugh.

I hung the towel on the shower stall and threw the cold water on my face, feeling more awake instantly.

As I left the bathroom, Dejun had already opened the pizza box and brought it to the bed, the glasses of coke on one of the nightstands.

He zapped mindlessly through the TV channels, stopping in a Sandra Bullock movie.

We ate sitting on the bed, legs crossed like kids.

Grabbing my second slice of pizza, I decided to not let the meal be silent as most of the day had been.

“You know, Dejun, this situation sucks. But I have to admit that I underestimated you. I am enjoying being with you.” I said, looking at the pizza before taking a bite. Xiao raised one eyebrow at my words.

“You say this but you literally slept like 90% of the time we spent here.” He replied, teasingly. I rolled my eyes and he stretched his arm to grab the glasses of coke, handing me one.

I took a sip immediately, but Xiao put his glasses on top of his head like a tiara before drinking, leaving me with a confused expression. Realizing that I glanced at him, he explained.

“It sprinkles on the lenses if I drink anything sparkling with glasses on.”

“Oh, I see.” I nodded. “I never saw you using glasses at the company.”

“I don’t. I wear contact lenses most of the time.”

“Really? But you look good in glasses.”

Dejun’s surprised face and laugh made me realize what I just said, feeling my face become red and looking down. Cursing mentally, deciding it was best to keep the silence that reigned previously starting from now.

“Well, thank you, Y/N.” He said, still giggling a little. “You’re not bad yourself.”

After one more slice of pizza, I was full. Dejun was still eating the second slice, a lot slower than me.

“I guess it’s time to go now.” I spoke, getting up from the bed and going to pick up my stuff.

Xiao grabbed my arm and I looked at him in a jolt, my eyes meeting his brown ones.

“Already?”

My eyes shifted from his face to his hand on my arm before I could think of an answer, and he let go of the grip visibly more shy.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…” He began, scratching the back of his neck. “… you seemed so tired, you drove a lot and will have to drive again tomorrow. The car isn’t a proper place to rest.”

I stood static for a few seconds.

“Are you sure? We’d have to share the bed.” I said, timidly.

“Yeah, we’re both adults. Besides, you already said you find me attractive, so I suppose it’s not a problem to you.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to picking up my things, pissed at his comment.

“You’re so full of yourself.” I mumbled.

“For fucks sake, do you know what a joke is, Y/N?” He said exasperatedly.

“Apparently I’m the joke to you.”

Xiao grunted and though I wasn’t looking at him, I could imagine him rolling his eyes just as I did before. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, resting elbows on his knees.

“You’re such a drama queen sometimes! You can’t even stand to read a few words without falling asleep, how well rested do you think you will be tomorrow after sleeping in a car in this fucking freezing weather?”

“So what the hell do you want me to do?” I practically yelled, closing my eyes, taking a deep breath and sitting on the chair before looking at him again.  

He didn’t answer but kept staring at me, and I calmed down after a while of silence. The tension was palpable in the air.

Momentarily, I let my eyes drop to Dejun’s mouth.

Realizing my stare, Dejun licked his lips and I opened mine involuntarily before searching for his eyes. Dejun brought his face closer to mine and spoke in a low, soft tone.

“I want you to kiss me.”

He slowly shifted his gaze to my lips and brushed softly the back of his left hand against my right cheek. I breathed heavily, inhaling his citric perfume, before leaning closer to him, blank minded and only feeling a sudden need to lick his inviting lips.

I rested my left hand on his thigh to support myself, closing my eyes as I felt our lips touch.

Dejun’s mouth was half open and I could sense the warmth and humidity of his tongue, making me crave for contact. I sighed and slipped the tip of my tongue to touch his lips, feeling myself salivate at the sensation. Dejun lodged one his hands close to my nape and the other on my waist, and I felt my heart rate increase due to the way he held me tighter.

I gasped as Xiao’s tongue touched mine and deepened the kiss. It was wet and slow, allowing us to savor each other’s mouth. My hands reached for his hair, pulling it lightly so he would realize that I was enjoying it. After a few moments, I broke the kiss and moved back a little, opening my eyes and gazing at his face.

His cheeks had a light blush and lips were flushed as well, lust showing in his eyes wide open. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen Dejun be.

“Is this what you wanted?” I whispered.

“That’s not even close to what I wanted, Y/N.” Xiao responded, elevating his tone. I frowned, looking down and distancing myself more at his words, unable to avoid feeling insufficient, as I couldn’t satisfy his wish. Both his hands cupped my face, forcing me to look at him again. “I want to kiss you so much that your body will get tender. I want to kiss every inch of your skin until you melt under my lips, I want to hear you whine because of my touches. I want you to wrap your hands around my neck and tell me how you never felt so good.”

Dejun’s gaze fell on my lips again, as if asking for permission accomplish his cravings, so I closed my eyes in a silent consent.

The next thing I felt was his lips crashing on mine again, in a rougher and more intense kiss then before. His hands grabbed my thighs, motioning me to go onto his lap. I got up and kneeled on the bed, one leg on each side of him, lowering my body to position on top of his hip. By this time, Xiao’s hands traveled up to my waist to guide me.

However, he didn’t mean for me to be on top of him, since he turned us both around, making me lay on the bed and positioning his body in the middle of my legs. His mouth descended to my jaw and neck, leaving a hot trail of open mouthed kisses and licks. Hands traveled from my waist to my thighs, squeezing the flesh. I could feel my panties becoming damp, curling my toes in desire.

“And you know what else I want, Y/N?” He asked, pressing his bulge against my pelvis, making groan at the feeling. I shook my head in denial as he kept grinding on my body. “I want to eat you out every fucking day at the office. I want your sighs to be because of me and not anything else. You look so pretty all focused on work, makes me insane thinking on how many ways I could tease you to distraction.”

“Fuck, Dejun.” I moaned, pressing his head closer to my neck and forcing my torso along his slightly toned body, one of my hands entering under the collar of his t-shirt. Dejun lightly bit my neck before getting away, removing his jacket. I removed my hand from his skin and ran it through his upper body, feeling his muscles become stiff under my touch.

He leaned and pressed a kiss on my stomach, then started to lift up my blouse. I rose my body in order to help, head standing close to Xiao’s. As he finished taking my top off, Xiao went in for another kiss, hands moving to my chest and squeezing my breasts beneath the bra.

I tugged at his t-shirt, attempting to take it off. Dejun undressed the piece of cloth and turned around, dropping it behind his body.

It was beautiful to see. Dejun’s now obvious erection pointed through his sweatpants. His light torso muscles contracted by turning around. When he faced me again, I couldn’t help but pull him closer, embracing his waist with my legs and his neck with my arms, craving for the sensation of his skin upon mine. Xiao started rolling his hips against my pelvis, so I kissed his neck to block the noises from coming out of my mouth. I could feel the outline of his member teasing me over the clothes.

His hands ran by the sides of my body and teased the waistband of my pants. He squeezed my thighs and butt, exposing his desire to take the piece off by the way he massaged the flesh from top to bottom.

I removed my legs from around him and positioned each foot on the bed, keeping knees flexed.

“Take these off.” I whispered.

Xiao raised his body a little, allowing me to lift my hips and help him undress me. He slid the piece along my legs, moving back. Only in bra and panties I completely laid down again. Dejun moved his head back until right above my right knee, sticking out his tongue and licking the inner part of my leg until reaching my underwear. The sensation of his hot and humid tongue close to my center made me involuntarily contract my abdomen in anticipation.

“Can I take these off to?” He asked, looking at me again while rushing his index finger on the edge of the cloth.

“Hm-hmm.” I nodded, preparing to lift my hips again.

He grabbed each side of the panties and slid it off at once, coming back licking the inner part of my left leg as he did to the right. One of his hands reached from under my thigh and pressed right under my bellybutton to keep me still, in a way that my leg rested on his shoulder.

I closed my eyes as I felt his breath hit my pussy, in expectation of contact. But it didn’t come.

I looked at Xiao’s amused expression between my legs. He held a devilish smile looking back at me.

“Can I?” He asked, pressing a kiss to my left inner thigh, so close to my core I could barely notice the difference.

“Please, Dejun-”

His tongue finally met my clit in soft circular and licking motions, and I felt a wave of warmth through my body, letting out a subtle moan. His free hand moved to my entrance, teasing.

“I wish I could have you like this every day.” He mumbled, distancing his head a bit to massage my clit with his fingers. His chin and lips glowed from my wetness. He licked his lips and moved his fingers down to my entrance again and penetrating me with his middle finger. We both bit our lips at the same time, and I closed my eyes as he started trusting his finger in and out. After a few trusts I felt an emptiness and attempted opening my eyes again, but stopping from being overwhelmed with the pleasure of Dejun sliding two fingers in and returning his mouth to my clit

His fingers curled against my walls and his mouth was now much more feral the before. He licked and sucked firmly at the spot, giving me continuous delight. My legs started to contract from the sensation, toes curled as I opened my eyes to watch Dejun eating me out.

Xiao’s eyes were both open and staring directly at my face, making me twitch and unleash a slow and heavy moan. I supported myself on one elbow and the other hand moved to grab Dejun’s hair. I could feel my eyebrows furrow against my will every time he pressed his mouth a little harder against me.

By the grab on his hair I pushed myself upon his face and rolled my hips. Dejun was clearly surprised, raising eyebrows and letting out a hum on my skin, enhancing the pleasure with the vibration from his voice. As he tried to repeat the act, I pushed him away by the forehead. His expression changed to confusion.

“I don’t want to come yet.” I explained, still gasping.

Dejun nodded and bent to kiss my lips, tasting saltier than before. I grabbed his jaw, willing to feel with my hand the arousal that covered his face, making it slippery. He supported his body with his arms by the sides of my head, pressing his erection against my dripping pussy.

“Dejun?” I whispered, breaking the kiss.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ride your cock?”

Dejun gasped at my question, immediately rolling to the side and pulling me on top of him. His back rested against the headboard and his arms circled my body, giving licks and kisses on my neck and around my collarbones. I felt his hands unclasp the bra before his kisses moved to my naked breasts. At first he just softly licked around the left nipple, circling it with his tongue, then tried his best to fit all he could from the boob inside his mouth, still moving his tongue against the skin.

At the same time, my nails scratched his back and nape, and I rolled my hips on top of his rock hard bulge.

Dejun’s hands fell to my butt, squeezing each side and pressing my body down in an attempt to guide my movements. With my right hand, as he distanced a little in order to regain his breath, I tugged at his waistband. All I could think of was Dejun’s cock filling me up, but the clothes in the way and his grip weren’t helping.

Xiao understood what I wanted and released my hips, so I lifted myself and he pulled both pants and underwear until the middle of his thighs. His gray pants had a large wet stain, and as he took it off his dick jumped up, hitting his abdomen. I licked my lips at the thought of how helpless he looked.

“Do you have a condom?” I asked. He nodded and pointed at the wallet on top of the table. I stood up to reach for it and threw it to Xiao, who urgently caught the small package inside.

Back on top of him, I took the condom off his hands. However, before sliding it along his shaft, I grabbed it by the base and pumped a couple of times, anxious to touch Xiao as closely as he touched me. He closed his eyes and groaned, before staring at me again almost angrily.

I slid the condom down his cock and positioned it on my entrance, trying to smear it with my arousal. As I sank down, we both cursed under our breaths. I closed my eyes for a while as I adjusted to his size. When I opened them again, Dejun’s gaze laid on my face, his hands just resting on my thighs.

I leaned to lick his lips and hold his shoulders, but Xiao only received my tongue inside his mouth and mindlessly sucked at it. I moaned loudly and began moving on his cock, feeling his grip tighten on my legs.

Dejun also started trusting into me in small movements, making me groan once again and break the kiss. He held my gaze at his eyes, so dark and full of desire, the effort causing him to contract his forehead. His lips were pink and plump, I couldn’t avoid the thought of him sucking my fingers.

As this image filled my head, I felt myself clench around his member. Xiao moaned loud and beautifully, leaning in an attempt to kiss me again. Never mind how bad I wanted to feel those lips on mine, I interrupted him with hand on his chest.

“I’m not gonna kiss you anymore. I want to hear those beautiful moans.” I explained, leaning to kiss his neck right under his left ear before even seeing his reaction, causing another moan, now lower, to come out his mouth.

After a few more moments, my legs started to feel tired, the I leaned back to have a bit of release on my thigh muscles. At my movement, Dejun, who had more space to move, began trusting deeper and I could perfectly sense his dick coming in and out of me, coated with my juices.

My abdomen started contracting and I knew my climax had its way.

“Fuck, Dejun, I’m close.” I warned, gasping.

He moved one hand to my clit, massaging it with his thumb in circular movements. Added to his hip moves, it was enough to trigger my orgasm. I clenched and felt my whole body contract and tremble on top of him, then feeling Xiao reach his on high as his cock pulsated inside of me.

I let out a breathy laugh while looking at Xiao’s fucked out face, messy hair and all sweaty. Anyway, I lifted my body to slip out of him and pressed a kiss on his lips, cupping his face in my hands.

“Maybe sleeping here isn’t such a bad idea after all.” I chuckled. Dejun opened a bright smile, putting his arms on my waist.

“You should’ve know I was right.” He joked, making me playfully roll my eyes.

“But we’re gonna need another shower anyway.” I said, laying by his side in contradiction to my words.

We kept staring at each other as our bodies cooled down and Dejun became soft, so he stopped patting my hair and went for a shower. As he was entering the bathroom, I called him.

“Dejun?”

“Yes?” He turned his face to me.

“With this tongue of yours, I’ll let you eat me out at the office whenever you want.” I smiled. Dejun laughed and shook his head before closing the door.

#xiaojun #xiao dejun #xiaojun fic #xiao dejun fic #xiaojun smut #xiaojun angst #xiao dejun smut #wayv #wayv xiaojun #xj #nct xiaojun #nct xiao dejun #wayv fic #wayv smut #nct #nct smut #masterlist #mine

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Drenched

Summary: Golden Lace. Lacey’s plans to seduce Mr Gold are not at all delayed by the dismal weather. In fact, the rain might just help her along…

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling October random prompt: Taking shelter from the storm

Rated: E

Drenched

It was an absolutely miserable day, especially considering that it was supposed to be the middle of summer and the forecast had been for bright sunshine for the rest of the week. Gold looked out at the rain pouring steadily down from the slate-coloured sky, the rumbling of thunder in the distance promising further deluges before the day was up. 

He wondered where Lacey could have got to. Although anyone looking at her on a day-to-day basis would call her the very epitome of unreliable, she was generally very regular in turning up to work in the pawn shop, mainly because she never wanted to lose a second of needling him. For a moment, a vision of her having slipped in the rain in her ridiculously high heels passed across his mind, but he shook it away, really not wanting to think about something terrible having happened to her. She was annoying, yes, but he would never wish any harm on her. Not at all. Quite the opposite in fact. 

Gold would never admit to Lacey, or indeed to anyone, just how much he enjoyed having her around in the shop, but he really did. She was a breath of fresh air, and unlike everyone else in the town, she was not at all scared of him. She gave as good as she got, and it was always nice to have a sparring partner on his level. 

“That witch!”

The pawn shop door was flung open, the wind lending perhaps a little more energy to it than intended, and Lacey scrambled inside, battling against her obviously broken umbrella before giving it up as a bad job and throwing the thing into the street outside. Once the door was finally closed against the storm, she growled at it, eyes narrowed, and Gold had to wonder what had got her so vehement. 

Well, apart from the fact that she was soaked to the skin, hair hanging in tendrils around her head and her dress clinging to her. 

Her white dress. Which had gone very see-through as a result of her drenching, and which was showing Gold without a shadow of a doubt that Lacey was not wearing anything underneath it. 

He managed to drag his gaze away from her, looking very pointedly down at the cash register and pretending to be doing something very important to distract himself from the fact Lacey was very wet and showing off rather a lot more of herself than she probably realised.

Although, that said, Gold had never really been sure when it came to Lacey. There had been several times in the past when their banter and teasing had turned a corner into flirting, and neither of them had been uncomfortable with it. Lacey was certainly beautiful, and it would be a lie to say that he didn’t find her attractive. He’d just never been entirely convinced that it was a good idea to admit that to anyone. Especially not to Lacey. 

“Who’s a witch?” he asked, as conversationally as he could, trying to pull his thoughts in a different and much more chaste direction.

“Fiona Black in her Ferrari. If she were a man I’d say that she was compensating for something; it’s so ostentatious. Anyway, I swear she deliberately splashed me. Look at me! I’m soaked! Even more soaked than I would have been without her intervention!”

Gold really didn’t want to look at her, but somehow, he found his eyes wandering in that direction again. Lacey was wringing out her hair onto the doormat and she didn’t seem at all perturbed by the sudden transparency of her clothing. In fact, as he gave her another almost-involuntary onceover, she grinned. 

“I suppose I should get out of this wet dress,” she said, her voice almost sing-song. “I’d hate to catch cold.”

Gold nodded, waving abstractedly towards the back room. “Help yourself to any of the vintage stock. You can switch on the space heater to dry out your dress.”

“Thank you, Mr Gold.” She blew him a kiss as she went past, already beginning to unfasten the buttons down the front of her dress and peel it away from her skin. Once she was safely ensconced behind the curtain, Gold let out a shaky breath, leaning heavily on the counter. If he could get through the rest of the day, then it would be an utter miracle. At least the weather made it unlikely that they would get much custom, and no one except Lacey would notice his increased distraction.

He swore that she was going to be the death of him, and he still couldn't tell whether that was going to be a good thing or not.

"Hey, Mr Gold." Lacey's voice was still teasing as she called out from the back room. He took a deep breath, determined not to give in to the temptation to go over to the curtain and take a look at what was going on, lest he see something he most definitely liked.

"What?" he asked, teeth gritted against every urge.

"What do you think would suit me best?"

He took another breath. She was definitely doing this on purpose, there could be no doubt about it, and he was determined to beat her at her own game. He would not give in.

He racked his brains, trying to think about what he had in stock at the moment. Clothing was never something that sold well and was not something that he usually came into possession of; old clothes went to Goodwill, not the pawnbroker.

"It's ok," Lacey called again. "I've found something. Not exactly seasonal, but I think it looks good." There was a long pause. "Why don't you come and see?"

"I'm sure you look lovely, Miss French. Now, I believe that you have work to be getting on with."

He heard Lacey's exaggerated sigh. "You know, Mr Gold, you're really no fun at all."

The curtain was pulled back, and Lacey struck up a pose in the doorway. She was wrapped in the heavy throw rug from the cot in the corner of the workroom, its faded folds draped around her in a seductive manner that suggested more skin on show than could actually be seen.

"I know you're not completely oblivious," she said. "I know you try and act all aloof and unaffected, but I know that you're interested." Her eyes gave him a slow once over, lingering on his crotch and the bulge that was becoming apparent there. "What I don't know is why you persist in grinding your teeth and pretending not to see what's right in front of you, instead of giving in and letting us have what we evidently both want."

"I..." Gold didn't really have a response for that. In the back of his rational mind, a mind that was very rapidly being overtaken by not at all rational thoughts, he knew that it was probably something to do with the fact that he didn't believe for a moment that Lacey's attraction towards him could ever be genuine, that someone as vivacious as Lacey could want someone as old and bitter as him.

But here she was, standing in the doorway to the back room, naked but for a blanket, her hips cocked invitingly towards him as one hand reached down into the folds of fabric, disappearing in the direction of her sex.

"I really think you liked what you saw, earlier," she continued, a purr in her voice. "Do you really think that I didn't wear that dress on purpose, knowing that it was raining cats and dogs out there? Naturally, I didn't intend on getting quite so very drenched on the way here, but that just served to speed things up. So…" She stepped away from the curtain, moving towards him, until she was so close that Gold could feel her breath against his lips. "Want to warm me up after my soaking?"

Gold took the plunge, kissing her in response and pushing the blanket off her shoulders, taking in every inch of her body. Lacey smirked, grabbing his tie, and all he could do was let himself be led back into the other room, sinking down onto the cot as Lacey straddled his lap, undoing his tie and tossing it to the floor.

"Skin to skin is the best way, don't you think?"

Gold nodded, running his hands over Lacey’s skin, coming down to grab her ass and then up to her breasts, rolling her nipples under his palms and making her wriggle on top of him.

“I can’t believe it took a rainstorm to get to this,” Lacey murmured. “I should have got splashed by a Ferrari sooner.”

She made quick work of his shirt and waistcoat buttons, diving in for another hungry kiss as she pushed them down off his shoulders, breaking away only to let them get onto the cot properly. It was an ungainly mélange of limbs and hands and lips everywhere: no finesse, only the urgency of a need long-suppressed and finally surrendered to. Lacey certainly knew what she wanted, and it didn’t look like she was going to stop until she got it – and Gold was happy enough to let her have it.

As she shoved his trousers and boxers down his legs, he wondered if this was a good idea; if finally giving into the lust that had been simmering below the surface would make the easy, more-than-occasionally flirtatious relationship they had previously shared awkward, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He had always prided himself on his patience, a quality that Lacey almost certainly lacked, but now, that taut string had completely snapped, and it disintegrated altogether when Lacey grabbed his cock, pumping his length a couple of times before grinning down at him. She was in control. She’d always been in control from the moment she’d first stepped into his shop.

Lacey’s purse was on the floor beside the cot and she grabbed it up, rummaging around until she found a condom, then her glorious hands were back, stroking him once more and gently rubbing his tip along her folds, her hips rocking and writhing in rhythm. When she finally sank down onto him, he groaned with the sensation, throwing his head back against the uncomfortable mattress. Above him, Lacey laughed, a low, breathy laugh that betrayed her own loss of self-control. She was only clinging on by her fingertips, and as Gold looked up through heavy eyelids as she rode him like the goddess she was, he saw the moment she came, one hand braced on his stomach as the other rubbed frantically at her clit. There was something so wild and wanton in the image of her – hair rat-tailed and curling around her face, mascara smudged beneath her eyes – and it only took a moment before he followed her over that edge.

The silence in the back room was broken only by their panting. It had not exactly lasted long, but there was such intensity in the release of his tightly pent-up desires that it felt almost like running a marathon.

Lacey let him slip out of her and slumped down onto his chest like a cat, her smirk returning as she came down from her own high.

“Now, aren’t you glad you came out of your denial?” she purred.

Gold nodded. “That was… certainly something.”

Lacey laughed again, going in for another kiss, and Gold just let himself be swept along in her wake. He didn’t know if this would make things awkward between them, and he didn’t know if this would lead to many more pleasurable encounters of the same kind, but for now, he didn’t care. The storm was still raging outside, and it was a while before they had to get back to their usual lives and responsibilities. There was plenty of time for them to take shelter together, and as he rolled Lacey over onto her back, Gold certainly intended to make the most of it.

#A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle fic #golden lace #Mr Gold #Lacey French #Fic: Drenched

[firepiplup]

How do i say no to people

You know that analogy about people with adhd having spoons for energy management or whatever? My spoons are on backorder from like 2 months ago and more got on that list now

The problem is that all of the things I'm being asked to do are Very Important Things

I have to feed my diabetic cat. This in itself is not a problem, however she's needs to eat at a specific time (12 hour spacing) and my current sleeping situation along with work do not allow this to happen consistently. Currently trying for 7:30, we'll see how it goes

My apartment has bedbugs, and there's no way in fucking hell I'm sleeping on my living room floor until my scumlord landlord actually gets the guy to come back to spray because he did spray but I'm still seeing adults and i "need to give the spray time to work" it's been fucking 2 weeks i don't know how is supposed to work but i feel like after 2 weeks whatever spray you did isn't going to get any stronger i just want to sleep in my own bed it's been like this since fucking March

With that part explained, I'm sleeping at my mom's house on the other side of town. This in itself isn't much of a problem, however as "payment" i have to take care of her dog in the morning, to practice because she's going on a week long vacation in October and none of her dogs can just be taken care of like normal dogs. He needs to wear a diaper to leave the room while i pick up his shit and soiled weewee pad and mop the floor, give him some time to be out of his room, and then feed him his special food mix. The other dog has allergies and probably will get into something he shouldn't, then not use the bathroom outside even though he literally has a doggy door that has constant access to the backyard. Neither dog get along with each other, which is why they are separated. Thank fuck the cat is just normal, this is why i prefer them

Now with THAT explained, it's difficult to take care of my own cat on time in the morning. But as the legendary Billy Mays says: But wait, there's more!

I just got rehired at my job working in a local understaffed pizzeria. My friend, ego also works there, is on vacation (good for her, she deserves it, absolutely no negativity towards her) so i have acquired her hours. So i now work 6 days a week, kinda sorta clopen but i guess it's more of opelose. Or a combination of both? Idk. The point here is, I'm then dealing with essentially running half a restaurant alone 6 days a week, with it not being 7 purely because the owner himself ALSO has the same work schedule as far as I'm aware, and wanted to give himself a day off, and since we are so understaffed it would be impossible unless we literally closed. My tasks include answering the phone, washing dishes, making sandwiches, making dinners, folding pizza boxes, and cleaning the tables/equipment on that side of the restaurant. So essentially everything except making pizzas, cleaning the pizza area, mopping in general, and driving. We generally close at 9, 10 on Friday and Saturday. Guess who was explicitly rehired to close those days? Guess how that's going to work with me having to be home around 7:30 to take care of my own cat? I have no idea either. It's only for about 3 weeks, but my mom, whom i have not asked for any additional help with anything, won't feed the cat while i have work, even though there isn't a guarantee that i can leave on time to THEN RETURN to close, because again I'm the only one on that side of the building. I understand the fear of the bedbugs, so that's probably it, but it still fucking sucks because the kitchen is on the other side of the apartment from the bedroom and there is literally no reason to go there to feed her. But i get it

Did we get to where i can do my own ADLs? Of course not. My neighbor is in the hospital, and her husband is blind. This is a new development that was only discovered an hour before starting this post (about 3:30 am for me). She's ok, it's for mental health reasons, and that's her own business about that. Her husband being blind is not a new development however. And he needs help taking care of the pets, specifically the birds. Which is fine, they just also need to eat on their own schedule. 8am, around lunchtime, and 8pm. Guess who's still at work? One of the birds is special needs because her beak got injured and needs to be essentially spoon fed. Which the blind husband can't do at all. Fairly simple task, but just adding to my obligations that are Very Important because they involve making sure things don't starve to death while my neighbor is in Crisis

Ok let's see, that's 4 Very Important Tasks/Obligations, and only one was originally my own voluntary one. Still not at taking care of myself yet, but i have my shelter, i have my job ("part time" minimum wage, hurray. Part time because even with me being there 6 fucking days a week open to close it still isn't technically enough hours for the state to recognize it as full time), and I'm taking care of *counting* about 8 pets for the next week. Will unemployment give me my money that I've been claiming since March? No? Will they let me claim with my new working hours that makes that while process even harder? Technically but it'll take over an hour for it to process and it doesn't even do that in the end? Well fuck, guess i have to wait to get paid on the books in cash and beg for a hand written paystub and have my hours worked written down. Glad i earned $100 this week, i hope now that my hours have increased i get some more

Next on the list, appointments. Because I'm a dumbass who can't remember shit if it isn't consistently recurring, i overbooked myself for next week. My much needed therapy appointment with my therapist that I've only met once and is the replacement for my much better therapist that i actually had a relationship with is supposed to have a session with me on Tuesday. Will i remember to do it this time? Possibly since i actually remembered it's on Tuesday. Will she send me the reminder text with the zoom link? Probably not. Wednesday, my one day off, thank fuck for that, is the main problem with the scheduling. My med appointment is for 11:30. Cool, can do. Driving lesson at 12. Oh, that's a little close, but i can manage that probably. I only average 1 lesson per year and a half, so it's fine, it's "healthy" to be nervous about operating a death machine powered by explosions. Have to go to social services to pick up, or attempt to, a new food stamps card. They probably close at 5, and add a Non Driver, i need to rely on someone to take me. The sooner the better, but it can't be during the lesson. Don't forget to take care of the creatures before and during all of this.

Ok. Great. There's an hour before work. Time to shower, because it's so fucking hot I'll be sweating like crazy by the time i get around the corner to the pizzeria, with me literally getting out and dressed and then walking out the door. Glad i finally did still to take care of myself. Eating? I might have something i can heat up quickly while the cat eats and so i can take my own meds. Dishes? Those are going to have to wait, i hope the heat wave doesn't get too bad, but it's been like this for a while, still slowly chipping away at them. Sleep? Severe insomnia. I partially blame the bed, my mattress is so comfortable, i hope the bedbugs like it because i can't fucking use it right now. I'd be sleeping so fucking soundly if i were in my own bed, and yet here i am. Maybe i should take the Trazodone now. I just hope I'll wake up on time. Oh look I'm exhausted, can't afford to buy comparatively better prepared coffee from Dunkin, so i guess my shitty at home coffee is going to have to do. Black because i don't have any creamer or milk or lactose free milk in my house. Just the way i hate it. Gonna have to deal with that i guess, maybe I'll learn to like it

The coffee pot lives in my fridge now. I'm worried to put it with the other dishes because if it sits there, not being washed like everything else, then i won't even have the option of coffee. It's just water and ground up beans, I'm sure it's fine

Maybe i can find some kind of coping skill/hobby to help me through my limited me time. Let's see.... I like to crochet, and that helps me get through the dishes by letting me alternate between them and a row/round on one of my many started projects. What? It's in a giant garbage bag with a bedbug treatment stick because of the damn ass bedbugs? Can't open it for at least another week and even then there isn't a place to put the yarn safely? Well fuck. I found that really helpful with keeping me grounded. Umm, well looking online, i should *checks notes* buy new yarn in the meantime and keep it somewhere safe. Uh, well, i can't afford more yarn now and i have nowhere to put it. Videogames it is maybe? Oh fuck now I've hyper focused too long on pokemon, rhythm heaven, and whatever daily games i do, i think i have 5 of those of varying lengths of time spent on them

Did i remember to brush my teeth? No. Do i remember that i should and then when i get out of the shower so i forget to actually execute? Yes. Have i gone insane? Probably

How many spoons is a person supposed to have per day? It takes more for me just to get through the day in general. Why does everyone need me to do their Very Important Tasks? Why is there never anyone else? Can my neighbor just not buy more birds when she gets home from Crisis?

I just want to have good mental health, why is this so hard

#adhd #autistic adult #bedbugs #pizza #cats #birds #diabetes #anxiety #rant #exhaustion #dogs #work #spoons

[weareallfallengods]

Flight from Grace- Chapter 2

(I cant be bothered to switch to my pc to create a read more link so bam, whole thing right here.)

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Flight from Grace - Chapter 2: Where's my coffee?

I was cold.

The thought that being cold was somehow wrong is what woke me. I was cold and I shouldn’t be for some reason. The more aware of that I became, the more I realized how uncomfortable it was. I was laying on something that had hard lumps in the most inconvenient of places and wriggling didn’t really change that, and only served to make my irritation at the discomfort more intrusive on my sleep-muddled thoughts, forcing them to become more focused and conscious, which at the moment, I very much didn��t want to be. I wanted to slide back under the blissful unawareness of sleep, to return to the feeling of the dream I couldn’t quite remember since it was so much more preferable to whatever was scratching my face and poking me in the side. 

I snorted my displeasure at the intrusion of conscious reality and tried to turn over more vigorously, yanking at whatever passed for a blanket covering my head in annoyance. That only made me more annoyed; whatever was covering me smelled...bad. Just all the smells that make you wrinkle your nose and hold your breath til they pass rolled into one rotting sushi roll of stinkiness, which definitely didn't fit with whatever I was previously dreaming. 

It was no use. Sleep had slipped through my grasp like a toddler grabbing a bowl of jello. Both are disgusting- too sticky and jiggly. So much for waking up in a good mood.

Sadly, this awareness of stinky scratchiness and lumpy surface forced my brain to start working. Some days, I hate it when it does that. Why can’t it just be quiet and let me float along like a marshmallow? Ah well. 

Oh shit. 

Shit shit shit. I just remembered why the hell my nose was being violated. My eyes snapped open, looking for the reason I was no longer warm- Grace. Nope. Can you frown with just your nose? My face seemed determined to find out. 

I jumped up, snapping the cover off and shot a quick look around the empty room. Nothing. What the hell? Where’d she go? Great. First I stumble across the first mortal who could look me in the eye without devolving into schizophrenia, and then I lose her just by falling asleep. Of freakin course I do. Goddamn sleep and it's irresistible siren's call. And god damn whatever that smell was and whoever put it there.

As I was sitting there in a lump of twisted up, stained moving blanket, a small sound from behind the crumbling wall opposite me caught my attention, only to reveal Grace softly coming around from behind it, straightening her black t-shirt. She noticed me sitting up, paused for a moment mid shuffle, and started giggling. What now?

“Well darlin’, aren’t you just the most hilarious bird’s nest of a mess in the mornin'!” Grace couldn’t help but giggle at what she saw sitting in a pile on the discarded mattress in the corner. 

My hand went to my hair. Oh. Ok, I had to give her that one. It was pretty bad. 

I snorted a dry laugh too. “Yeah, this hair is pretty shocking, even to me. Probably not quite what you were expecting.”

“Sugar, I don’t know what to expect with you, now or ever. We had a rough night; don’t worry about the hair though, it’s kinda cute.”

Well that was the understatement of the year. I haven’t had a night that rough in a very long time. Not since...well that doesn’t matter right now. 

“But,” Grace started, slowly moving closer, “much as I hate to say it this way, we need to talk about last night.”

I sighed. Gods, why do I keep doing that? Yeah, we did. There was a lot. A lot that I didn’t have answers for to be honest, but still, things that needed to be discussed. I owed her that much at least. Hell, I owed me that much.

“Yeah, we do.”

“So, you wanna start, or should I?”

I finally managed to look her in the eyes again. “You’ve probably got more questions than I do right now, so you start and I’ll see if I can clear things up a little. Well, I hope I can.”

Grace took a slow, deep breath. “Alright, let’s start with the simple stuff- what the hell happened at the bar?”

That's her idea of leading with the simple stuff? What happened to 'sleep good?' or 'where the fuck are we?' or even better, 'do you want some coffee?' So much for simple. To be fair though, that one was easier than what I thought she was going to lead with. I wish there was coffee. Ha, what was I thinking, not like this run down warehouse was the Ramada. Ha, the Ramada Hovel had a nice ring to it. Probably gets rated not in stars but in rats. Deep breath.

“I had to get you out of a very dangerous situation as fast as I possibly could. I should’ve realized what was about to happen sooner than I did, but I was kind of distracted at the time, and the drinks probably weren’t helping at all either.”

“Ya don't say?" Grace's eyebrows curled mockingly.  "So, what was that thing chasin' us? Why was it chasin' us? Was it chasin' me? Or you? Or both of us? How’d it follow us? What was it that freaked you out about me? Are you still freakin' out? Am I freakin' out right now? Ok, yeah, I think I’m freakin' out a little bit right now and I’m starting to babble again, and I don’t know what’s going on and…”

“Grace!”

She stopped long enough to look at me. I got up, took her hand, and turned her slightly. “Please sit for a minute; just breathe. I’ll do my best to explain as much as I know, because I’m kind of freaking out a little myself.”

That seemed to work. Enough anyway. Deep breath again. I’ve only ever talked to one other person about this in all these years, and they had already known enough that I didn’t have to go over the hard stuff I was about to now. Sweet Mikhail I wished I had a whiskey sour right now. This was definitely a job for alcohol; much as I loved the stuff, coffee was a little to weak for this situation. Why was I so nervous? That was a question I didn’t even want to consider the answer to right this second. Focus, genius. 

“Ok, this is going to all sound a little weird, probably unbelievable, but I swear to you, it’s the truth as I know it. 

“The thing chasing us from the bar was a gatekeeper of sorts. It’s job is to hunt down the things that poke holes in the separation between this mortal plane of existence and others.”

She was looking skeptical, but at least she was still listening. 

“As for why it was chasing us, well, it probably thought I was the one poking holes in reality.”

“You? Why?” She looked curiously concerned. 

“Because…” I trailed off, not able to look at her any longer. Neglected as it was, at least the floorboards didn't judge. They constrained themselves to silent accusation like any self-respecting flooring should. Leave the judgement to ceilings. “Because I’m not what you think I am. You think I’m a regular old ordinary person like you. And I kind of am, but not really. I’m not even supposed to be here. I think.”

“Hunh? Whadd’ya mean you’re not like me?”

Deep breath again. Breathing is good for you, right? “Ok, so here goes. You know how people believe in spirits, ghosts, angels, demons, goblins, that sort of thing?” She nodded. “Well, all that stuff is actually real. They’ve always existed in one form or another here in the mortal realm, but we’re not actually from here like you are.”

“We? You said ‘we’, right?”

“Yeah. Here’s where it gets a little sketchy for me, and why I was so surprised at how you were looking at me last night. How you’re looking at me right now.”

“I’m listenin'.” Grace was a little more withdrawn than I was used to seeing her, but she wasn’t jumping up and running away. 

“Yeah. We. Me, specifically. I’m not mortal. Not human. I think. Pretty sure anyway, it’s all kind of fuzzy when I try to remember.”

“Soooo...you’re what, some kind of ghost? How come I can touch you then?”

“No, no, not a ghost. As far as I can tell, I’m some kind of what you would call an angel or a demon, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know which. All I know is that if I’m here in the mortal realm, I’m not where I should be; just this nagging feeling I'm from...somewhere...that's not, here. And I’ve been here for a long time and I’m still not any closer to figuring out where I’m originally from, but I do know that there’s others like me here. I don’t come across them very often, but there’s more than just me.

“You asked me why that thing was chasing us too; I think that somehow, I got noticed, that it knew I  wasn’t supposed to be here, something that was triggered when you looked at me.”

“Hold up, so this giant dog catfish just blew up my bar and chased us half across the city because you’re like an illegal immigrant or somethin'?”

That made me laugh. “Something like that. Guess my green card ran out.”

“But why would me looking at you trigger something like that? Like you’re gorgeous and all, but not like ‘tear a hole in the space-time continuum gorgeous’. No offence.”

“No, I’m right there with you on that!” Did she just call me gorgeous? And were those butterflies in my stomach or was I just hungry? Or did she just insult my looks? I mean, I've never been like, obsessed over it, but I was pretty sure I was better looking than your average bridge troll. Well, maybe not this morning, but still. Shut up brain. You too stomach. Heart, don’t even start. 

“So you said it happened when I saw what I did in your eyes. But I didn’t really see anythin'! Wait, what should I have seen?” 

“So you remember that douchecreep that hit on me?” She nodded again. “Well, he saw what most people see when they look into my eyes- an unfiltered glimpse into the expanse of eternity, which usually makes a mortal’s mind crumble. It's kinda how I figured I wasn't from around here. They’re just not equipped to handle trying to comprehend the depth of infinity, so it usually sends them plummeting off the deep end of crazy. Some survive. A lot don't.

“Survive? Like, seeing 'infinity in your eyes' kills people? What the fuck! So what’s different about me? Why am I not dead, or crazy? Wait, unless I’m already crazy.” She laughed a little as she stood up and slowly started pacing. 

“No, you’re not crazy. Well, at least not crazy caused by me. You sound a lot more coherent than a bowl of jello, so you're good." What was it with me and jello today? Kinda how my brain feels I guess.

“Well that’s a relief! I think.” Grace’s shoulders seemed to relax a little. “It’s a little hard to believe; I mean right now, all I see is what I saw last night- just normal, green eyes. No ‘depths of eternal damnation’ or anythin' like that. I mean if I hadn’t seen what I did, and if I’m honest, I’m starting to wonder if I actually saw what I think I did. You sittin' here in front of me in a place that is very definitely not my appartment is the only thing keepin’ me even slightly convinced that you’re not completely bat-shit and that I’m just hallucinating.”

“Well, the jury’s still out on how sane I am but yeah, you saw what you thought you did.”

“My nana would flip her shit to hear all this talk of angels and spiritual stuff. She lived for this kind of thing.”

“So you believe me?” Maybe this was going to be better than I was first thinking.

“Let’s just say I’m still making up my mind; the fact that you’re hands-down the most interestin' person I’ve met since I left home is holdin' my attention at least.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“But this is all a bit much, if I’m to believe you. I mean, God an' angels an'  the devil are all just things my nana an' her old church friends talk about. And I sure as hell never heard anythin' about them walkin' into bars and riding motorcycles like Evil Knevil!” She was starting to breathe faster, heavier again. Here it comes.

“But some giant catfish starts blowing things up an' tryin’a eat me, an’ you’re sittin’ here as big as life, still smellin’ like korean barbecue- which makes me think that that all wasn’t just a bizarre dream- tellin’ me that it was some kind of demonic golden retreiver chasin’ us all over town, an' that there’s a heaven an' a hell, an' you’re somethin’ like what used to show up in the books they taught me from in Sunday school that accidentally makes people lose their minds if they look you in the eye, but I don’t see that which is somehow a problem, and,” she was breathing kind of heavily now, hand on her side as she walked a few steps back and forth in front of where I was still sitting on the edge of the ratty mattress. 

“Whoa now, I think you might be hyperventilating,” I reached out a little in concern.

“No I’m not hyperventilating, I’m havin’ a existential panic attack! I’m tryin'a understand everythin' you’ve just said, an' at the same time, tryin'a  figure out how I got swept up in all this mess, an' if it even is a mess, and if it is, if it's a mess I even believe in!” Her eyes were looking a little unfocused now. Something was wrong. Like more wrong than how wrong things were already. You know what I mean. Wronger than wrong. Different wrong.

“You don’t look so good.” Apparently it’s a day for understatements. If there was a world record for them, I was probably going to break it by sundown.

“Really? I don’t look so good? This is all just a bit much, y’know, and now I’m the one who isn’t ok? Ya think?” Damn, she really was panicking now. I guess I didn’t have her figured out just yet. 

“Yeah, um, you should probably sit down,” I got up and put my hand on her shoulder to guide her back over to the bed, insisting by touch even though she flinched. Why did that make me sad?

“Sit? I can’t sit right now! I’m tryin’a….whoa.” Grace’s eyes unfocused as she grabbed my arms to keep from falling. “Um, what’s going...on?”

Her eyes rolled back a little as her legs gave out from under her. She was heavier than she looked- good thing I’d gotten her closer to the mattress so she could collapse on to it as she drug me down with her, still holding my arm tightly. 

“Grace? Grace!” She didn’t respond as I shook her, her breathing rapid and short. Fuck.

That’s when I noticed. Her shirt had ridden up when she flopped prone on the bed, revealing her midriff and the finger-long scratch just below her left ribs. Shit. Of course it was glowing. Somehow, during our escape, she must have gotten grazed. Didn’t look like a serious wound, but even though I didn’t know much about the thing that had chased us, I knew even a scratch was bad news. Really bad news. Today was just packaging itself up and express shipping itself straight to hell.

“Fuck, what do I do now!” Saying it out loud didn’t make the answers come any faster than when I was thinking it. 

Light. I needed light. I couln’t see well enough to tell if what looked like a scratch was actually worse than that. I ran across and tore the tarp off the big industrial window, letting the sunlight pour through the loft, dust motes swirling and sparkling like being caught in a snowglobe. Kind of a shitty snowglobe if you ask me. 

The wound’s glow faded in the brightness, and on closer look, it didn’t seem like it was any deeper than just a scratch, but from the look of the blue and red spider-veining spreading out from the small cut, it didn’t need to be. Those veins of virulent red and sickly blue were climbing up under her chest, obscured by her shirt, and thicker ones winding down below the waistband of her black jeans. Dammit. 

Sweet Mikhail, I needed some luck. 

* * * * * * *

Story tag list

@random-with-garlic @a-dinosaurs-left-phgkneecap @flower-in-the-ashes @nixabee @luvnaught @pens-swords-stuff @alice-and-cheshire-cat @humans-are-seriously-weird @flying-f1shsticks @neil-gaiman @glumshoe @lykanyouko @kaylewiswrites @just-a-bit-paranoid @thatsmybluefondue @violet-galaxies @biggest-gaudiest-patronuses @midnight-spectrum-again @slytherinlovespuff @friendofcybermen @hemi528i @mirbisduschoen @khelladon @walkin-in-the-cosmos

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list, just shoot me a message and your wish is my command. 

#flight from grace #lgbtq story #angelic fiction #original story #supernatural

[mentalmimosa]

wonder if it’s still there

They sleep on opposite sides of the bed. Which is a good thing, because neither of them is asleep.

“This was a mistake.”

A flash of sirens on the ceiling, red lights chased by blue. “No shit.”

Neither of them is naked. Shaw still has his shoes on, natch. The whole room reeks of spunk. But there aren’t any windows broken and none of the bland hotel furniture has earned a new scratch. In the end, when it came down to it, their focus had been singular and remarkably non-destructive and if he’s honest with himself--if he has to be--Shaw hasn’t let himself go like that in years : almost ten, hasn’t it been? since he last bent over for a man.

He’d forgotten what it was like, not being in control. He’d forgotten how much liked it.

Which is a good thing, because this thing, here, is never bloody well happening ever again.

“You can fuck right off, you know,” he says into the silence.

“I don’t need your goddamn permission. I’ll leave when I’m damn good and ready.”

He grits his teeth and ignores the jerk of his dick, the way the blood between his legs is already aiming to recover at the sound of that snarl. God, he’s too old for this shit. “Get out.”

It comes out too softly, too hoarse; he should be bellowing and throwing fists. He’s not.

Maybe that’s what does it, though, what gets Hobbs off the wrecked sheets and onto his feet, a hulking shadow backlit by the city at night. Except the sky’s a little grayer than it should be if it were still proper dark; dawn’s coming, Shaw realizes. And he’s a fucking coward. He can’t face this shit in the light.

A scrape of a chair, there is, the sigh of overstretched cotton going back on. “You always go ass-up at family functions, Shaw, or was tonight the exception?” Hobbs chuckles. There’s nothing funny about it. “Or maybe you really are just a slut.”

Slut . A word spat in the air a half-second before he shot off: two big fingers in his ass and his own stripping his dick--a blade, then, that word, a perfect kick to the gut.

Now, though, he’s being mocked.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Hobbs.”

The shadow turns back towards him, sneering. “Oh, believe me, asshole. You don’t have to.”

The door opens and closes. So do Shaw’s eyes.

And when he’s sure he’s alone, he sits up gingerly, all of New York at his back, and kicks off his shoes, peels off his pants. Feels that half-forgotten ache in his ass.

In the shower, he doesn’t look at the bruises or the bites even though they sting his shoulders, the soft insides of his thighs. He doesn’t touch his dick; he keeps his eyes front and center. He uses a whole bar of sharp hotel soap.

When he wanders out clean, he draws the curtains properly and strips the come-stained comforter from the bed and pulls back the sheets, slides in. Buries his face in the only unsoiled pillow.

Outside, the day’s come, he knows, but he doesn’t have to face it. Not yet.

****

They sleep on opposite sides of the world for a long time, and that’s good. Until they’re thrown together again and don’t sleep for what feels like a week.

There is Brixton and his sneer, a scab ripped from an old wound, but he doesn’t think about that, he can’t, and it’s easier when he looks into the man’s eyes dead on because there’s an emptiness there, something hollow, that hadn’t been there before. Before, when they looked at each other--in a briefing, on assignment, in the tiny shower in Shaw’s old flat--there was a heat there, a golden, gorgeous light that had bloomed brightest when Shaw was on his knees and Brixton was teasing him, rubbing that big, leaking cock in his face.

“Do you want it?” he’d murmured, his fist at the base. “Ask me, Deck. Ask me nice.”

And when he’d finally gotten it right, the pitch of his plea, the urgency, the greed, Brixton would give it to him, inch by steel inch, cupping his head and stroking his cheek.

“Just like that. That’s what you’ve wanted all day, isn’t it? Look at you. Look how hard it’s made you, darling, getting to suck on my dick.”

And after, when Brixton had come down his throat or better, all over his face, he’d get a tongue in his ass, thick and insistent, grunting, humming, stroking until he was begging all over again.

He doesn’t think about that, when they’re chasing him, whaling on him, watching him fall back senseless into the sea. The man he loved once, the man he killed, he’s been dead almost a decade; seeing this monstrous version of him is nothing but confirmation of that.

“So you and Brixton, huh?” Hat says when the world doesn’t end, when they’re sitting on Hobbs’ mum’s porch drinking something sweet and eating far too much.

“Yeah.” He cuts his eyes at her; they’ve never actually discussed this. “Is that, er. Is that all right?”

“That your ex-boyfriend just spent three days trying to personally murder us and the entire population of the Earth or that you go for men? Come on.” She bumps his shoulder and gives up a grin. “It’s adorable that you think I didn’t know, Deck.”

He bumps her back and stays there, their arms pressed together in the heat. “Nobody like a smart ass, Hat.”

She sighs, his little sister does, and reaches for her drink. “You do.”

”Yeah, well. Clearly I have terrible taste.”

“Clearly. Do all your exes try to blow up the world?”

Across the way, he sees Hobbs, hears him yelling, a mountain of a man chased by a pack of happy, screaming kids.

“Nah,” he says, kissing Hat on the head. “Not all of ‘em.”

****

When the sun sets, they do rest, all of them. There are people snoozing everywhere--“They’re passed the fuck out,” Hobbs corrects as they pick their way across the compound, “no need to get fancy”--dogs and kids, too, and for a while it looks like they’ll be kipping down in the grass.

“Ah!” Hobbs says, a sudden spark in his eye. “I wonder if it’s still there.”

“What?”

Hobbs grabs his wrist and starts towing. “Easier to show than tell, Deck. Come on.”

Where they go is the custom shop, silent now, and climb above it. What they find is a weatherbeaten loft, nothing fancy: a wooden floor, a mattress, and rolling doors pulled open, no part of the island held back.

“So basically,” Hobbs says a few minutes later, “we put the lives of everyone on this side of the island at risk, saved them, and then got them smashed out of their minds.”

“I think they’ve earned it.”

“Well, duh.” The mattress isn’t that big; there’s a dip in the thing when Hobbs turns. “My point is, asshat, that I don’t think I’ve heard this place so goddamn quiet. It’s weird.”

“Scared by a little peace and quiet?” Shaw snorts. “No wonder you talk so much. Trying to scare off the willies, are we?”

A chuckle. “Now, now, Dr. Lecter, let’s not get all brain fancy here. I’m not complaining. It’s just different, ok?”

Outside, if he listens hard, he can hear the call of the ocean: water kissing rocks into infinity, retreating, slamming, licking again and again. The earth gives in slowly, a piece here into the waves, another there. But the land’s just as strong as before, even when it crumbles; it hits the water with a punch and a loud, crashing splash.

Maybe that’s what makes him turn and reach for bare skin in the dark. They’re both down to their borrowed shorts--too big on him, too small on Hobbs--swimming in the last flickers of endorphins and leftover hooch and clean, salty sweat.

“The hell are you doing?” But Hobbs doesn’t pull away.

“I’m touching you, numbnuts.” He pinches one broad, hot nipple; snickers when Hobbs sucks in a breath. “And apparently, you don’t hate it.”

A hot hand on the back of his neck, a greedy little noise when he pinches again.

“Don’t hate it,” Hobbs grunts. “But I’d like it better if you licked it.”

When it comes down to it, they don’t have any lube and spit only goes so goddamn far so he doesn’t get fucked, no matter how much he whines. And he does whine this time, does beg for it, does get off on it, hard, that feeling of desperation, of need , and Hobbs doesn’t give him shit for it. Well, not too much, at least.

“Who knew,” Hobbs slurs against his hole, “that all I had to do to shut you up was stick my tongue in your tight little ass?”

“Fuck you.” It comes out too softly, too hoarse, but it fits this time, in this moment. Which makes sense, because right now, so do they.

“You realize Jonah’s gonna make us burn this mattress,” Hobbs says later, when they’re both satisfied.

“Yeah?” He nuzzles Hobbs’s throat.

A big, hot hand cups his ass. “Yeah. So I figure we’d better get our money’s worth out of it, huh?”

“Mmmm. It’d be a mistake not to.”

The night’s quiet for a moment. “It wasn’t a mistake last time, Deck. I know I said it was, but that was bullshit. I was--” He sighs, a big sound that shakes his whole body. “I shouldn’t have left like that, in New York. I was an ass.”

“I shouldn’t have told you to leave. But I thought you wanted to.”

“I did.” A kiss. “I didn’t. I kind of did. Shit, man. I didn’t know what to think.”

“And there’s your problem, eh? Right there.” He licks into Hobbs’ mouth, still sour with his own taste. “You’re not the brains of this operations, sweetheart. That’d be me.”

A growl. “God, it makes me hot when you say stupid shit like that. Which is good, because you say stupid shit a lot .”

They sleep in the middle of that bed, eventually, when Shaw’s pumped out and Hobbs has come twice more down his throat. It’s hot and the night air is sticky but, hell, Shaw figures as Hobbs curls big around his back, they are, too.

“Look,” Hobbs says in his ear as the sky lightens, “I like you and everything, dude, but you’d sure as shit better not snore.”

“Luke?”

“What?”

Shaw grins. “Shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

#shobbs #hobbs/shaw #brixton lore/deckard shaw #first time #reunions

[gingerwritess]

ok this one is really really sad, one where the war in the whole universe is done and loki and reader has to part ways just because loki has to come back to asgard and live 5000 more years and like they're saying their goodbyes while reader is crying so bad she can't say i love you to loki and loki's like "see that shiny thing in the sky? that's asgard, I'll watch you all the time" but then on their last goodbye kiss loki just did a trick and cleared out reader's memories with him??? imsosorry

okayyyy i apologise in advance for this. and for doing this when i have like 20 other requests that came before this one.

i edited the plot a lil for clarification, so it takes place right before The Snap™️ but Loki was on earth with you so no stupid stabby boi. ohhh you wanted elliot in this too??? enjoy heh

also why is your url give-me-fluff when you’re putting ideas like this in my mind you sly dog

if you wanna cry, listen to this song on repeat while you read. trust me.

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

Something is wrong. Extremely, horribly wrong.

It brings Loki from a restless sleep before it hits you, shooting straight up from the pillows in a cold sweat.

Darkness still encompasses the room hiding you from view, so he reaches out to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his chest. His fingers slip under your shirt to spread against your stomach—you’re still breathing.

Relief floods his mind and he moves his hand up to find your heart, needing to feel it beating steadily under his hand before he can fall back to sleep.

It’s there. His heart is ready to pound out of his chest, but yours seems fine, calm and steady and thankfully reminding him that he’s fine, you’re fine, and Elliot is f—

Elliot.

The baby had been cradled in your arms when you fell asleep, only being a few days old, neither of you had wanted to leave him alone. Loki pulls himself from your warmth to flip on the bedside lamp, rousing you from your sleep as well.

“What’s going on?” You mumble, blinking groggily at him over your shoulder. He’s running a hand over his face, traces of slumber evident in his eyes, but his breathing is shallow and shaky. “Loki, babe, what’s wrong?”

“Is Elliot alright?”

He looks terrified, cheeks paler than usual and his eyes are frantic; it’s scaring you.

You nod and roll back over to check on your newborn son, but the little bundle of blankets you had fallen asleep next to is empty. You’re wide awake now, that’s for sure, and you fling the covers off the bed—babies are unpredictable, right? Maybe he slid further under or-or rolled off the bed??

“Loki,” you hiss, jumping off the bed and checking the floor. Nothing. “Loki, where’s our baby?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, ripping the covers off the bed completely. “What do you mean, ‘where’s our baby’?”

Your voice raises with the panic in your heart: Elliot is nowhere to be found. “Loki Laufeyson, this is not a fucking joke. I swear to god, if you are pulling some shit—”

His fist closes around your arm and he gives you a rough shake. “Why in the name of Valhalla would I joke about this?” He hisses, eyes flashing in anger. Anger.

It’s been ages since you’ve seen anger in his eyes, especially when he’s looking at you. But his grip on your arm is unyielding and only getting tighter, his fingers digging into your bicep until you meet his piercing gaze with fear-filled eyes.

He freezes at the look on your face, how you’re staring up at him as if he were straight out of a nightmare, and immediately the grip on your arms loosens. “Forgive me…” he whispers in horror, bringing a hand to the back of your head and pulling you flush against his chest. “Forgive me, my love, forgive me.”

You quickly wrap your arms around him in quiet comfort, reassuring him that you’ve already done so. “I’m sorry too. We’re both scared,” you explain, rubbing a soothing hand over his back. “We need to find Elliot.”

He nods and slowly lets you go, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and something on the bed catches his eye. The blankets the Elliot had been wrapped in are still piled on the mattress and he quickly picks them up, unfolding them and shaking them lightly.

There’s ashes? Some kind of dust, scarily similar to ashes, falling from the blankets, and you run a hand through the dark ashes, leaving black smears and stains on your white sheets.

“No, this couldn’t be…” your mind is running a thousand miles an hour, too many possible scenarios ricocheting around your head. Only one sticks out, keeps popping up to taunt you no matter how hard you push it away. “Loki, this isn’t…?”

Loki looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“He did it,” is all he breathes, setting a trembling hand on the bed and picking up a fistful of the ashes, turning his fist over to let the ashes pour through his fingers.

You can hear your heartbeat pounding and you try again: “Loki, answer me. Is this our son??”

His wide eyes meet yours, all colour drained from his face and the light in his emerald eyes promptly extinguished. You want him to just answer you, to tell you no, that’s not your son, that Elliot is in the room down the hall safe and sleeping soundly…but he just nods.

It doesn’t make any sense. But Loki grabs your hand, smearing the ashes—your son’s ashes—over your palm as well and he puts his other hand to your face, holding your cheek and he’s staring at you, absolutely terrified.

Waiting for you to turn to ashes with his son.

He should have known you were too good to be true.

To be his.

There are tears in Loki’s eyes, actual tears sneaking from the corners of his eyes as he watches you, waiting for you to be ripped from his hands.

The tears come to you before you have a chance to fully process what just happened.

There’s a flash of light from the window—the bifrost, you realise—and your door slams open. It’s Thor, who hasn’t been to visit you in months since he’d been on Asgard.

“Asgard has fallen.” Panic hides in his rumbling voice, but you can hear it loud and clear.

Loki is dressed in the blink of an eye, armour glinting from his chest. “To what end?” He asks, stepping slightly in front of you, quickly wiping the tears from his cheeks. His voice is steady, strong…fake. That’s not your husband.

“Half our people,” Thor hoarsely tells him. “Half our people are gone.”

Loki swallows thickly with a nod and you notice his hand shaking against his thigh. You step behind him and grab his hand, twining your fingers between his and squeezing tightly.

I’m here.

“Are there…are there ashes?” He croaks, pointing to your bed littered with the ashen remains of your son. Just hearing him brings another lump to your throat and you let your head fall against his back, holding onto his hand with a death grip and hiding the tears trickling down your cheeks.

Thor nods, his face ghostly pale. “I apologise to the both of you. This…this takes no prejudice in its victims. Brother, I trust you will do what is necessary.”

Loki finally squeezes your hand back, tighter than you can almost bear. “Leave us.”

As soon as the door closes behind him, he’s pulled you back into his arms and he’s shaking, his face buried in your neck. Shaking with sobs, fear, rage, you don’t know, but this, whatever this is, has done something to him and he’s finally broken.

Right when you were starting to piece him back together.

“Loki—”

“Don’t speak.”

Your mouth snaps shut, shocked and confused at his command. It’s not like this isn’t affecting you too, Elliot was as much your son as his! You open your mouth to argue, eyes narrowing at your husband—mmph.

His lips are on yours before a single angered word leaves them.

Wet. It’s a wet kiss, in the worst way possible. It’s all tears and tongue and he’s desperate, clawing at your face and your back and staining your cheeks with his burning tears. By the time he rips himself away from you, your skin is streaked with black marks from the ashen remains on his hands.

“I have to leave,” he whispers against your lips, eyes tightly shut and chest heaving. “I have to leave and you cannot follow me.”

“Bullshit,” you answer firmly, grabbing his face and wiping away a tear with your thumb. “I’m coming with you.”

He shakes his head furiously, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and pulling you even closer to him. “You are not. You’re safer here. I won’t be able to care for you in the way you deserve.”

“You think I care about that?” You smack at his arm, undeniably getting angry with him; he’s not allowed to make these kinds of decisions for you. “That was my son too, Loki. My son. Your son…our son.”

Your words hit him like a brick and he lets go of your shirt, hand coming up to caress your cheek. “That’s why you can’t come, my love,” he mutters. “I’ve caused you enough pain already. I will not bring you any more.”

“That is so selfish,” you hiss, wrenching your head from his touch. “Selfish, Loki, selfish. Clearly the better way to ‘care for me’ is to stay with me, right?”

Not that you could’ve ever known, but those words would haunt him for the rest of eternity.

His mouth opens and closes a few times, unsure of how to answer such an accusation. “I…you know I love you,” he says, practically pleading with you. “I’m trying to protect you! Don’t make this harder than it has to be—”

“Take me with you, Loki!” You cradle his head in both hands and force him to look at your teary eyes. “Just take me with you, idiot, take me with you.”

He can’t. There’s no way. It would never work, with Asgard now compromised and destroyed, leaderless and on the run. He knows you wouldn’t be able to survive a single unavoidable battle, and he wouldn’t be able to be there to protect you.

“I can’t. I love you, and because of that, I can’t stay with you.” He pries your hands from his face to hold them tightly in his own, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You can hate me, blame me, wish I were dead. I don’t care. I refuse to put you through more pain than I’ve already caused.”

You back away from him, gaping and shaking your head in disbelief. He’s actually going to leave you. You want to hate him, to scream and yell at him until he wakes up and realises you can stay with him, but you don’t think there’s a bone left in your body with the strength to be upset with him.

“I can’t lose you too,” you say, your voice nothing more than a strangled whisper. “First Elliot. Not you too.”

He reaches for you and when you add a whispered “please,” his heart twists and breaks.

There’s only one way to rid you of this painful reality he’s created with you, but Loki wonders if he even has the strength to do it.

It would ruin him, the rest of his life, his spirits, and any hope for peace within him. But it would save you from a lifetime of pain, guilt, hatred…he won’t be able to live with himself if he doesn’t do it.

If he’s ‘selfish’ in your eyes, the least he can do is let you go.

You stare at him dumbfounded as he stands there, silent, out of words to say to you, his silver tongue finally stopped. Doesn’t he have anything to say to you? Any consolations, any comfort?

No, he’s just silent.

Then he puts a hand out, palm open in offering to you and you immediately place your hand in his. His skin is burning ice to the touch, biting through your fingertips, but you don’t let go, trying to let your warmth seep into his skin.

He curls his fingers around yours, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back and gently leading you to the one window in your tiny apartment. Pulling aside the curtains, he leans down to press a breath of a kiss on your shoulder.

“You can hate me,” he murmurs, his voice steady. He has no more tears to shed. “You can curse my name. But I will not hurt you.”

“Loki, that’s not—”

He cuts you off by tipping your head up and kissing you again, molding his lips into yours. When he pulls away he stays there for a moment, just letting your breath caress his empty lips and running his thumb along your jaw.

“I will not hurt you,” he repeats, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Do you…do you see that star, my love? The one with four points, two to the left of the moon.”

He nods in the direction of the night sky, and you reluctantly follow his gaze to the left of the moon. Sure enough, a four pointed star blinks faintly down at you.

His arm wraps across your chest, running his thumb over your shoulder. “Let’s say that is Asgard. I will always be able to see you from up there, and any time you wish to see me, just look to the sky.” He presses his lips up the side of your neck, relishing the fading feel of your skin. “You see? I’m not leaving you, my love. Never.”

You know it’s a lost cause. He’s leaving and you’ve given up trying to convince him otherwise, so you just stand there silently in his embrace, letting him run his lips along the curve of your neck, knowing this may be the last time you ever feel his lips on you.

There’s nothing left for you here. It, whatever it is, took your son before he could even see the world you brought him into, and now it is ripping his father—your husband—from you too.

He lingers in your empty silence a moment longer before turning you to face him, cradling your head in both hands and brushing away your tears. “No more tears, my queen.”

He leans forwards, his eyes drifting shut and you know this will be the last kiss. You don’t know how you know, but something about it just seems so…final.

“I love you,” you blurt out, finally finding your voice. “I could never hate you.”

He rests his forehead against yours and smiles, a sad, heartbreaking baring of his soul, and he nods. “I know,” he softly assures you, then closes the tiny gap between your lips.

And for the first time, his kiss is warm. Not burning with passion, not the biting cold of a possessive lover, but warm.

He’s not speaking, but you can hear his voice clear as day echoing through your mind.

And I could never forget you.

The warmth of his kiss wraps your body in a saving embrace, filling you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head until his lips are barely touching yours.

The warmth is fading from his ghosting lips. Fading away, and you reach out to grab his arm, keep him here…

You’re standing in front of the window.

Why on earth are you up at such an early hour? You’ve got work in the morning. You should’ve been in bed hours ago.

With a tired sigh you trudge back to your bed, your bed that is much too big for just the one of you. Oh well, more space to sprawl, right? You pull the covers back onto the mattress—you must have kicked them off in your sleep—but there’s a dark streak of something on your white sheets.

Huh. You try to brush it off with your hand, but the powdery mark has stained and just rubs off on your hand. It’s weird, it’s almost like…ashes.

Oh well. You’ll wash the sheets tomorrow.

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

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @sciluvcatz @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki angst #dad!loki #loki and son #loki infinity war #loki family #loki x reader angst #domestic!loki #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki x you #loki #loki fic #loki funny #loki imagine #marvel #marvel angst #angst #loki whump #marvel loki #marvel requests #marvel fanfiction #loki requests #request #loki drabbles #loki oneshot

[sweet-steddie]

Good Luck (e.d. & g.d.)

Summary: @slovakdolan requested that I write about the main character getting ready for the first day of school and the twins helping her get ready and dropping her off and maybe each giving her a kiss goodbye in front of everyone before they leave. Thank you so much for this prompt, I had a blast writing it! I hope you enjoy it!

A/N: The feedback that I’ve been getting on my other works has been incredible. So, again, I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my stuff and actually enjoy it! I hope this one is just as fun for all of you to read!

3.1k+

I’m brushing my teeth and staring at the mirror above the sink just as Grayson comes sidling into the bathroom behind me. His eyes are a little puffy and his hair is tousled from sleep as he offers me a lopsided grin.

“Morning,” he greets in a deep voice, scratchy from a night’s worth of misuse. He rests his chin on my shoulder, resting his palms on the sink on either side of me, caging me in from behind as he closes his eyes.

“Good morning,” I garble through foamy toothpaste as he breathes out heavily through his nose. I carefully spit into the sink and rinse my mouth out a few times before heaving out a large breath of my own. It’s just simply too early to be awake and doing things at this hour. “I don’t wanna go to class, Grayson,” I whine, eyebrows furrowed as I close my eyes against the blinding fluorescent lights. Grayson begins rubbing my shoulders lightly, only deepening my sleepy state.

“I know. I don’t want you to go to class, honestly,” he agrees, “but it’s your first day back. You know you have to,” he explains gently and I groan because he’s right. I had already broken my own rule of isolation leading up to school, hoping to buckle down into school mode as the first day of the semester drew nearer. However, that plan quickly went to shit when I’d made the decision to leave my own, on-campus apartment in favor of driving the 30-plus minutes away from my place to Ethan and Grayson’s house several days ago. I only have one class scheduled this morning, at least, but that doesn’t override the fact that I’d much rather fall back into bed at this early hour. I give a petulant huff, even stomping my foot for good measure and I hear Grayson laugh sympathetically at my disgruntled state.

And the thing is, I know I shouldn’t have stayed up as late as I did last night. But stupid Ethan and stupid Grayson and their stupid, handsome faces and unbearable ability to convince me to do anything is how I ended up in a dog pile with the two boys at well past midnight, Netflix watching us as we ended up crashing on the couch. Grayson is cuddling me close to his warm, bare chest and it feels pleasantly similar to snuggling up near a furnace on this chilly morning. I have half a mind to shove him away in retaliation for keeping me awake for so long last night, but then I take into account that he voluntarily woke up early with me this morning even though he, himself, didn’t have to go to class and that makes me huddle in closer, instead.

We stay like this for a handful of minutes, just embracing each other in the quiet of the bathroom and struggling to keep from falling asleep on the spot. “You should probably start getting dressed,” Grayson murmurs eventually and I groan softly into his naked skin. “It’s just one class, baby. One class and I’ll bring you back here and I promise you we won’t leave the bed all day,” he bargains and my god, does that sound good. The ‘staying in bed all day’ part, not the ‘going to class’ part.

“Fine,” I huff quietly and he goes to disentangle our bodies so that I can begin getting dressed, but I whine softly and pull him back in tight. He smooths my hair back with one hand and cups my cheek with the other, kissing me firmly on my forehead.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll sit with you while you get ready. Would that make you feel a little better?” he asks and I nod wordlessly, allowing him to pull me in the direction of his bedroom, where I’ve been storing my overstuffed overnight bag. True to his word, Grayson perches himself on the edge of his bed as I begin to rifle through the contents of my bag. As I peel through layers and layers of clothing, I quickly realize that my mind is anywhere but on the task at hand and I tell Grayson as much.

“I can’t even process what I’m looking at,” I croak out tiredly. “Help me pick something to wear,” I demand more than ask, but that doesn’t seem to bother Grayson too much, as he promptly rises from where he’s seated on the bed and joins me in front of my duffle bag.

“You sit and gather yourself for a minute. I’ll find something,” he promises, playfully hip checking me in the direction of the bed and I don’t put up an argument. I shuffle over to the mattress, careful to sit at the very edge so that I don’t accidentally retire back into my previous slumber. The room is peacefully quiet as Grayson sorts carefully through the clothes that I’ve packed. As expected, my eyelids begin to droop as I wait and, before I know it, I’m being gently nudged awake.

“Ethan?” I question as the boy, himself, stands before me, hand resting softly on my shoulder that he had gently shaken moments ago. His sleepy eyes crinkle at the corners a bit as he chuckles at my confusion.

“I know; I can’t believe I’m awake, either,” he answers the unspoken question groggily as he makes himself comfortable next to me on the bed. He slings an arm around me, situating me comfortably into his side as I rest my head on his shoulder. Not unlike Grayson, he radiates a pleasant heat that has my head lolling. “I wanted to make sure I saw you and wished you good luck on your first day before you left,” he explains, thumb running soothing circles over the skin of my arm as he and I watch Grayson continue to dig through my clothes.

“Thanks, E,” I hum, lazily pecking a kiss onto his shoulder in gratitude.

“Of course, babe,” he returns easily before asking, “are we picking out your outfit?” in reference to Grayson’s sifting.

“Yeah, dude. So far, I’ve got this top but I don’t know what bottoms to choose with it,” Grayson answers for me, holding up one of my shirts to show Ethan his dilemma. Ethan’s quiet for a moment, deep in thought.

“What about those black ones? The leggings,” Ethan points to a pair of discarded leggings on the floor near Grayson’s feet. Grayson pauses for a moment, seeming to give this suggestion some thought before he leans down to pick up the leggings, holding them near the shirt and nodding.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea,” he agrees, putting the whole outfit off to the side. “And what shoes?” he asks. Given the fact that the outfit is pretty simple - some leggings and an oversized T-shirt - I have a pretty good idea of the type of shoe that would match. Before I can give my input, however, Ethan interjects.

“The sneakers with the blue and gray. Easy,” he contributes and all I can do is shake my head at the ridiculously adorable situation at hand. Having these two pick out my outfit has to be near the top of the list of the cutest things they’ve ever done. I’m more than capable of picking out my own attire and doing a damn good job at it, but I simply lack the energy this morning and the boys can tell.

“Should we help you get the clothes on, too?” Ethan asks suggestively and I swat at his chest, giggling nonetheless at his advances.

“He has a good point,” Grayson chimes in, eyebrows raised as he shrugs his shoulders at me. “If you’re too tired to even pick out an outfit, who knows what else you might need help with,” he reasons and I feel Ethan’s shoulders shaking with quiet, smug laughter. I shimmy out from under his arm, feeling considerably more awake in my state of feeling so utterly flattered.

“Or,” I start enticingly, padding over to where Grayson’s set down the outfit and picking up the clothes, “I could do it myself.” I throw a playful smirk over my shoulder as I waltz back into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

————

No less than 45 minutes later and the boys and I are piled into Ethan’s Jeep, maneuvering side streets and back streets in order to get to my university in a timely manner. Ethan had surprised us all when he not only volunteered to accompany me to school this morning, but to drive as well. It’s the least I can do for making you stay up late last night. And I wouldn’t want you driving while you’re this tired was all he provided as an explanation and that was that.

Going to a university in L.A. meant that Ethan and Grayson rarely made campus visits, simply due to their notoriety around town. As I’ve insisted on the many occasions that we’ve hung out, I have no problem coming to them, instead, and that’s why the locale of most of our hangouts is at the boys’ house as opposed to my apartment. I remind them of this fact as we draw nearer to my campus.

“I really don’t want you guys to have to meet a million people just because you’re dropping me off. You can honestly drop me off a few blocks away and I’ll walk. Seriously, I don’t mind at all,” I stress, but am quickly shot down.

“No way. We’re not gonna dump you on the sidewalk and leave,” Ethan protests and Grayson is quick to back him up as he swivels around in the passenger seat to furrow his eyebrows at me where I sit in the backseat.

“Why would we do that? No, we’re dropping you off on your campus and whoever sees us, sees us. We’re here for you. If that means taking some pictures, then that’s ok,” Grayson reassures me and I can’t help but to smile at the sentiment he and Ethan are expressing. I simply nod my understanding, feeling an immense amount of guilty pressure lifting from my shoulders in the wake of Grayson’s and Ethan’s attitudes toward the impending situation.

There are about 15 more minutes of driving and chattering to pass the time before we arrive at our destination. In the haze of the first-day-back rush, there are plenty of people dashing too and fro in front of the campus buildings and cars and buses parking to drop students off. Ethan luckily finds parking along a curb and brings the car to a halt before he and Grayson turn to face me in the backseat almost simultaneously. My shoulders sag in defeat as I register that I’m here now and I actually have to go to class. After what felt like an endless summer break, returning for school is on par with pulling teeth right about now.

“One class, remember?” Grayson reminds me, giving me a soft smile that Ethan mirrors in my direction.

“One class,” I repeat back to motivate myself. I keep nodding as if to cement the mantra in my mind as I stare at the twins and they stare back for a few moments. “I can catch a ride back with a friend or something,” I tell them, remembering suddenly that my car is still parked at their house and that they would have to stay nearby while I sat in class if they wanted to pick me up afterward, too. Just like my last suggestion to increase convenience for them, this one is shot down.

“Nope. We’ll head to a coffee shop or somewhere else near here so we can be ready to pick you up when you’re finished. Just text us,” Grayson pipes up and I playfully roll my eyes at them both, but I end up smiling.

“Hey really though, thank you guys so much for waking up at the ass crack of dawn to take me to school. You really didn’t have to do that,” I let them know, using my hands to fondly stroke at their stubbled cheeks. They each nuzzle into the touch unconsciously.

“How about some extra good luck for your first day?” Grayson asks after a moment and I tilt my head slightly in confusion as I slowly drop my hands, waiting for him to explain. His lips helplessly twitch into a smirk as he side-eyes his brother. Their annoying twin telepathy allows them to reach a silent understanding, evidently, because Ethan is similarly smirking not a moment later before he and Grayson both fix their eyes back on me. Grayson grasps my hand and gently pulls me until I’m leaning over the center console and I suddenly understand the bigger picture just as he brings our lips together in a soft, sweet kiss.

I sigh into it as my eyes quickly fall closed and I rake my fingers through his soft hair. The kiss naturally deepens and, for quite a while, the only sounds heard in the car are the music seeping lowly through the speakers and the soft smacking of Grayson and I’s lips. He lands one more searing kiss to my lips before pulling away. I take my sweet time allowing my eyelids to flutter back open and, when they do, Grayson’s giving me that droopy-eyed stare that’s making it even harder for me to want to leave this car. Just as I’m thinking this, he swoops back in to give me one more quick kiss  before pulling back for good.

I feel Ethan’s fingers tracing lightly up and down my arm, a gentle reminder that hey, he wants some love too and I’m more than happy to oblige. I turn to face him and he’s giving me that smile that I know and love so much. The one that’s so absolutely, unquestionably Ethan that it melts my insides. He cradles my jaw with one hand, using his thumb to trace over my lips for only a moment before he’s leaning in and sealing our mouths together. I fall into it just as quickly as I had with Grayson, fingers finding a home tangled in the unruly hair at the nape of his neck. Our tongues dance around together and I hear him moan quietly, causing me to unintentionally mimic the noise. I don’t even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed as his hands burn blazing hot trails where he caresses down the sides of my neck and my shoulders.

This continues for several minutes until we pull away, slightly breathless with our eyes sparkling a bit and skin flushed beyond belief. “Good luck,” Ethan breathes, looking more than a little dazed and I hear Grayson laugh, startling me out of my reverie for a moment.

“Dude, you look so fucked right now,” Grayson teases and I watch as Ethan rolls his eyes, but it lacks conviction in his blissed out state.

“Whatever. You’re just,” he searches for a word and quickly gives up, settling once again on, “whatever,” and that causes Grayson and I to laugh in unison this time at the lame comeback. I eventually retreat to the backseat to gather up my backpack and I heave a big sigh, suddenly feeling more energized than I have all morning.

“I’m gonna get going,” I declare out loud and the twins nod their understanding. “I’ll see you guys soon,” I bid as a goodbye, deciding that it’s best to stick to a verbal farewell in fear of getting caught up again between the two boys and possibly missing my class.

“Bye, baby.”

“We’ll be right here when you get back.”

Both boys call after me as I open the back door and land on my feet on the pavement. I shut the door and take a moment to put my earbuds in and queue up a song before embarking on my walk to class. When I stare ahead of me, I notice that there are plenty of eyes already looking in my direction. Most people look downright shocked, to say the least. Others look mildly impressed. Others look blatantly jealous. I bite the inside of my lip to suppress a laugh as I quickly knock on the passenger window of Ethan’s Jeep. Grayson’s face appears as he rolls down the window, looking at me questioningly.

“Are these windows tinted?” I ask.

“No, why?” Ethan answers, leaning his head forward so that he can look past Grayson to address me. I hide my face in my hands, cheeks flaming up as I smile into my palms.

“Then I think everyone just saw you guys wishing me good luck,” I speak through my fingers. It’s silent for a moment as I keep my face hidden. A couple of seconds later, I hear Grayson’s signature guffaw, along with Ethan’s loud, husky laugh. The three of us share a laugh - the boys laughing mostly at my expense - before I slowly reveal my face again, cheeks still feeling warmer than ever before.

“As if the three of us need any more dating rumors,” I say, shaking my head at our antics. Grayson still sports a smile, teeth on display as he shrugs a shoulder.

“Wouldn’t be so bad,” he says and my eyes dart to Ethan’s face for a reaction, but he looks just as nonchalant as his twin. My stomach does a flip that would put somersaults to shame and I bite my bottom lip in place of responding. It’s quiet for a few seconds as both pairs of eyes in the car scan over me, their smiles simmering down into something a bit more smug and sultry. Before I can even think to splutter out a reply, I hear my name being called.

I look over my shoulder to see a friend of mine waving me over, clearly having just arrived on the scene as she looks completely unaffected in comparison to our surrounding peers. I nod back at her and whirl around to face my boys once more. “Bye for now,” I give them a coy wave before turning on my heel and walking toward my friend. As I reach her, we begin our walk to class and I feel the eyes of those around me following my every step. But there are two pairs of eyes that I can still feel burning a hole in my skin as I retreat and those pairs stand out pleasantly from the rest. My friend’s words become white noise as I slowly become hyper focused on how long I’ll have to wait to see the boys again. Something tells me that I’m in for a long morning and an even longer day after that.

#dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan tuesday #dolan twins instagram #dolan twins twitter #dolan twins snapchat #dolan twins youtube #dolan twins fic #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins one shot #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins smut #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan smut #ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan smut #blurb #imagine #one shot #fanfic #fic #my fic

[ventrue-rosary]

21, 26, 30

Thanks nonny!

21. an evening in the forest with elves, a night in the caves with vampires or a morning in the garden with fae?

Well, technically these all take place at different times so I could hit each one :3

26. tell us about an experience you’ve had that seemed unreal or supernatural. (doesn’t have to be scary)

This might be long so buckle in kids!

I don’t have none scary ones. I’ve already talked about this but I’m certain the first apartment I lived in was haunted.

It started with footsteps in the attic. Heavy, loud footsteps as though someone was walking around up there. See we lived in an apartment above a shop, and the only way up to that attic was *through* our flat. My boyfriend was worried we had a squatter up there, but I was not so convinced it was an actual person. 

We reported it and the landlord sent someone around. He wouldn’t say why but he refused to go up there. Said it was probably rats and left some traps. We heard the occasional steps but it was rare and eventually…nothing

There is a previous tenant who comes by to collect her mail thats still getting delivered here. She looks kinda weird, fiddles with her letters and asks ‘Is everything ok with the flat’. I thought she was just being polite, so I nodded and said yes, fine.

One afternoon we were hanging out in his bedroom and I went to the kitchen to do some chores. I saw him out of the corner of my eye pass by so I assumed he was going to the bathroom. I don’t remember exactly what but I said something. His head turned to me in acknowledgement but he never replied, and I never heard the door shut. So I went to check–no one was in the bathroom. He hadn’t left his bedroom. 

One weekend my boyfriend went to visit his family, so I had the apartment to myself. I walked down the corridor from my room to go make some food. Halfway down I felt this freezing cold breeze pass me by, with enough force to push my hair over my shoulder. I was midway down a corridor, so windows in sight and none of them were even open. 

It all culminated in one night, a few months after these events. I went to bed, and about 20 minutes afterwards I heard rustling sounds. I had a few shopping bags and plastic bags from online purchases in my room, so I assumed maybe a spider or smth was moving around in them. I very carefully checked through them. Nothing. I shoved them in my wardrobe and tried tom settle down. Then I heard quiet thudding coming from the corner of my room, like something knocking against my wardrobe. IO checked it out, again nothing, and even checked the other room to see if something was knocking against the wall in there. All clear.

A little bit concerned and confused, but I return to bed once more. Thats when the scratching sounds start. Not in the walls. On my floor, like nails are being dragged against carpet. You know when a dog tries to dig the carpet up? That but slow and deliberate. 

I am sitting up, kinda freaking out now. But my room is empty, and the scratching stop as soon as I sit up. My heart is pounding and mouth dry, but I had plans early tomorrow and *need* sleep

So I lay down. Blessed silence follows. Then  ten minutes pass and the scratching starts back up. I sit up once again. Scratching stopped, and I can’t find the source.

I try another attempt at sleep. I cover my ears with my pillow to block out any sound. A few minutes later, the pressure of the mattress shifts enough that I nearly roll over to that side. Thts the moment I leave my bed and leg it over to my boyfriends room, telling him that something is in my room, making noise and shit. He checks it out, can’t see anything but he knows I ain’tt laying. I’m standing there wide-eyes and shaking, unable tom stop shaking so I crash in his room that night.

Nothing happened after that.

30) describe your ideal masquerade ball outfit (mask included).

I’m bad at describing outfits so how about images instead?

Send me romanticized asks!

#long post #asks #anonymous #Anonymous

[averagemarvelbitch]

PROMPT LIST CHALLENGE

Challenging myself to write 50 short stories based on a prompts list.

1. “We’re not just friends and you know it”.

Alternate Universe / Stony

Warning: There is a scene where someone exposes someone else’s sexuality and I tried to make it clear that’s NEVER okay. I hope I succeeded.

Tony just couldn’t understand. He tried, God knows he tried, but he couldn’t seem to grasp why Steve would want to keep this, them, a secret.

They had been together for two years now. Tony remembered the day they met like it was yesterday. Rhodey got tired of his roommates shenanigans ― Tony had been in a “inventing spree” for three days, which meant little food, smelly clothes and very deep dark circles under his eyes ― and decided enough was enough. He took Tony by the ear ― literally, he might add ― and locked him in the bathroom until he took a shower, shaved and put on clean clothes. When he resembled a normal person again, Rhodey took him out to a party to get some air, see some people, you’re gonna go crazy in there all alone with your bots, man.

The party was a typical frat party. Lots of booze, lots of people, lots of chances to hook up. And it was there Tony met Steve. He had been in a corner, looking around like he wanted to be anywhere else but there, drinking beer from a plastic cup. Years after, Tony would swear to anyone that it was love at first sight. The minute he saw Steve standing there, with his way too small white shirt, and his blue pants, and his hair looking like freaking Johnny Bravo, he knew he had found the one… The one to spend many nights under the sheets doing things that would make a very experienced hooker blush.

So Tony approached him carefully. He’d learned the hard way to never assume a guy was, well, interested in guys. Straight men could be real dick heads about getting hit on by another man. So he introduced himself with a smile, asked for Steve’s name, which he promptly gave, and they started talking. As the party went on, they talked about everything… college, parents, favorite movies, favorite food, how cool is the new Star Wars movie, and on and on. At one point, Tony asked if Steve was interested in going somewhere private. They ended up in Steve’s apartment, with a very satisfied Tony being thoroughly fucked against a wall.

It could have been just a fling. They could have parted ways the next morning with a very sore ass ― in Tony’s case ― and a wonderful memory to cherish. But Tony woke up to the smell of coffee and freshly baked bagels and went to the kitchen, only to find a very naked Steve wearing a Captain America apron. Needless to say, breakfast was forgotten as Tony sucked Steve’s cock right there on the floor and the blond moaned his name until he came in Tony’s throat.

After that, they would meet regularly. Sometimes, when Steve had a bad day at work or had had a particularly difficult assignment, he would call Tony and they would watch a movie, eat Chinese food and fuck on every available surface in the small apartment. Other times, when Tony was frustrated with some new invention that just wouldn’t work the way he wanted or angry at the fact that every single person in MIT was too goddamn stupid, Steve, I swear to God, he would show up unannounced, already taking his clothes off as soon as the blond opened the door, and he would forget all of this troubles as Steve tore him apart, kissing every inch of his body and pressing him roughly against the mattress as he slammed his cock inside Tony again and again and again until the brunette was covered in cum, murmuring nonsense as he came back from his high, completely and utterly satisfied.

But it wasn’t just sex. They would do other things too. Every week, they’d rent a movie and watch it while cuddling on the sofa. Sometimes, they’d go out for a walk and have hot dogs at the park, or go to Howie’s and have cheeseburgers with fries. They did many couples thing and so, really, no one could blame Tony for thinking they were, in fact, a couple, even though they’d never said it out loud. Maybe Steve didn’t like labels or whatever, but they were definitely dating. Or so Tony thought.

Six months after that party ― and a LOT of mind blowing sex ― Tony begun to notice some things. It all started on a fateful Tuesday. He’d had a very bad day, full of uninteresting classes and way too many assignments due next week, not to mention the lovely phone call he’d gotten from his father earlier, in which, as usual, Howard specified every single thing that was wrong with Tony in a very disappointed voice. All the engineer wanted was to see Steve, to cuddle with him on his very uncomfortable couch and watch bad TV while complaining about everyone and everything as Steve hugged him and stroked his hair. A perfect night for a otherwise shitty day, he thought as he knocked on the door.

Only, when Steve opened the door, he didn’t immediately invite Tony in, which was odd on itself. He kept the door somewhat closed and, when he smiled, it looked more like a grimace than a actually “happy to see you” smile.

“Hey Tony, what are you doing here?”

Tony looked very confused for a moment.

“Uh… I… had a shitty day, thought we could watch crappy TV and eat some Mexican food. Are you… Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally fine”, he answered, taking a quick look inside before turning to Tony, the door still almost closed, as if he was afraid Tony might just walk in if he opened it a little bit more.

“Ok… Can I come in, then?”

“Uh, you know what, I have a friend over, so maybe we could meet another ti…”

“Hey, Stevie, who’s at the door?” a voice asked from inside the apartment.

In a second, the floor flew open, revealing another man. He was tall, with a prosthetic arm, a beard and long hair, pulled together in a bun on the top of his head. But Tony didn’t pay much attention to any of that. He was too busy staring at the pained look in Steve’s face.

“Oh, hey, I’m Bucky”, the guy said, offering his hand.

“Uh, I’m…”, Tony started to say, but a desperate Steve interrupted him immediately.

“This is Tony. He’s a friend from MIT”.

“Oh, cool, you wanna come in? We’re just gonna play some Call of Duty and chill”.

“He can’t stay. Maybe some other time, right Tony?” Steve interrupted again, looking at Tony with a desperate look on his face.

And Tony had to admit. That hurt him worse than a kick in the balls. He had heard about Bucky, of course, he was in every single one of Steve’s stories. But it was obvious that Bucky had never heard of him. Who doesn’t tell their best friend about their boyfriend?, Tony thought. But that was the thing, wasn’t it. Steve hadn’t introduced him as his boyfriend or his partner, he had introduced him as a friend. Not only that, but he was desperate to see Tony gone as soon as possible.

“Yeah, yeah, I, uh, I was just passing by and I gotta… I gotta go now, so… Yeah, sorry to bother you, Steve, I guess I’ll see you around”, as he said the words, Tony was very aware that he sounded like a kicked puppy, but he couldn’t help it. Without waiting for a reply, he just turned his back to Steve and his friend and got the hell out of there.

That night, he got fifteen calls from Steve, three voicemails and a dozen texts. He ignored all of them. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, least of all Steve. He was deeply hurt and had never felt so stupid in his entire life. Of course they weren’t dating. Tony should have seen it coming. He laid there on his bed and remembered every single moment he spent with Steve out in the open. They never held hands when they were in public. They never hugged, never kissed, shit, even when they went to those restaurants, Steve never even sat close to him. He always kept his distance, and at first Tony thought he was just one of those guys who didn’t like PDAs, but now he knew better.  Steve just didn’t want anyone to know he was fucking Tony. He didn’t want people to figure out he was involved with someone like Tony. And honestly, who could blame him? Tony was aware of who he was. Howard had never let him forget it. Lazy, good for nothing, never got anything right. And his last two boyfriends, Justin and Ty, had both agreed wholeheartedly with Howard’s opinion on his son. So why would Steve be any different? He should have known. It was stupid of him to think anyone would want him for anything more than just sex. And so Tony spent the whole night hating himself.

The next morning, Steve came over. Tony met him outside of his building while he was getting out with Rhodey. He told his best friend to go along without him, that he and Steve needed to talk. Rhodey wasn’t happy about it, but left anyway, although not without giving Steve the nastiest look first.

Steve looked devastated. “Tony, look, I’m so sorry”.

“For what?”

“For being a dick to you last night. For introducing you as just my friend. I know that really hurt you and I’m so sorry”.

“Nah”, Tony denied, gesturing with his hand as if the whole thing was no big deal, “It’s fine, I mean, what are you going to do, introduce me to everyone as your fuck buddy? That would be awkward, right?”

Steve looked like he’d been slapped when Tony said “fuck buddies”.

“You’re not… Tony, you know you’re not… that… to me”.

“Really? So what am I, Steve?”

“You’re… Shit, listen… I’m… I’m in love with you, Tony, I really am. I never met anyone like you in my entire life and you make me so happy and all I want is to make you as happy as you make me. But… I can’t tell my friends. They don’t know I’m…”, he stopped talking all of a sudden, looking around like he’s afraid someone might hear him, before whispering the last word, “…gay”.

Tony didn’t know how to react. He remembered when he first came out to his parents as bisexual. His mother thought it was just a phase, something that would pass with time. Howard, on the other hand, almost ripped him a new one. He screamed for hours, called Tony every name in the book, told him he was a disgrace to the Stark name and so on and so on. It was horrible. Then he thought about Rhodey and how terrified he’d been when the older boy caught him in a compromising position with Tiberion Stone. He looked livid. He threw Tiberion out of the apartment and he was so angry Tony actually thought Rhodey might hit him or something. And then he started screaming. And Tony almost burst into tears out of sheer relief. What the hell are you doing with that asshole, Tony? Seriously, he punched his last boyfriend in the face, man, in the middle of a party. There’s no fucking way I’m letting you date that abusive asshole, you hear me? He was worried. About Tony. Not angry that Tony was dating a man and hadn’t told him, just worried about his safety. So, you’re not mad?, Tony had asked with a small voice. I’m mad about a lot of things you do, Tony, like leaving the freaking screwdrivers in the middle of my living room or drinking the fucking milk straight for the carton. But I’ll never be mad about who you are, man. I can promise you that.

So Tony got it. He did, really. The fear of coming out and not being accepted, of losing the people close to you because they can’t accept this very important part of you. And he really did like Steve. Like he never liked anyone before in his life. So he made a decision.

And so, for the past two years, much to Rhodey’s displeasure, Steve and Tony had been secretly seeing each other. Bucky, and his girlfriend, Natasha, knew Tony only as “Steve’s friend from MIT” and seemed to think nothing of it. Sometimes, Natasha would try to set Steve up with one of her friends, and Steve would politely decline while saying he just didn’t have the time for that. And it killed a little bit of Tony when it happened, but he would stand there, every time, a fake smile on his face as he pretended to be Steve’s very straight friend.

And it had worked. It wasn’t ideal, and Tony hated it, but he loved Steve and he was willing to suffer if it meant they could be together. Everything worked fine. Until today.

They were at Steve’s apartment. It was his birthday. All of his friends were there. Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, Thor. He’d invited some of Tony’s friends as well, like Bruce, Rhodey and Pepper. They had beer, vodka, pizza and a huge cake with “Happy Birthday, Dumbass” written in icing, courtesy of Bucky. It was all good, until Natasha came over and started talking.

There were in the kitchen when it happened. Pepper, Rhodey and Bucky were opening pizza boxes and getting paper plates, and Steve was sitting on the counter, drinking a beer while talking to Tony, when Natasha showed up.

“So, Steve, I just talked to Sharon. She said she had a great time. Are you taking her out again or what?”

Immediately, the room got quiet. Pepper and Rhodey, who were both very aware of Steve and Tony’s secret relationship, turned to look at Tony, who looked like someone had just punched him in the stomach.

“What date?”, he asked quietly, looking at Steve.

“It’s nothing, just…”

“You went out with someone?”, Tony asked again, the pain now clear in his voice.

“Yeah, but just to make Nat… No, wait, Tony, stop”, he said, jumping down from the counter, but Tony was already leaving the kitchen.

He ran after him and grabbed his arm, trying to stop him from leaving the house. The others ran after them, stopping at the door, while Clint, Bruce and Thor, who were at the couch playing videogames, stopped and looked at them, confused.

“LET ME GO, I’M DONE WITH THIS. I’M DONE, STEVE. YOU WANNA HIDE YOUR WHOLE LIFE, THAT’S FINE, BUT I’M FUCKING DONE BEING YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRET”, Tony screamed, pushing Steve away from him.

“Wait, what. Are you guys…?” Clint started asking, looking even more confused.

“NO, we’re just friends”, Steve tried to explain, but Tony’d had enough.

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it”, he shouted, tears coming down his face now, “I tried to be understanding, I tried to give you time, but FUCK YOU, STEVE. WE’RE DONE”.

And with that, Tony left, Pepper and Rhodey right after him.

It took Tony almost two weeks to even resemble a functioning human being again. In that time, he had cried on his bed every single day, unable to hold it in, as either Rhodey or Pepper sat there by his side, stroking his hair while whispering that everything was going to be okay. Tony didn’t believe them. How could anything ever be okay again? Steve had kept him as a dirty little secret no one could ever find out about, cuddling with him at night, whispering “I love you” again and again in his ear, all the while going out with whoever Natasha set him up. It hurt. It hurt so bad Tony honestly didn’t think he could recover from it.

Natasha had called as well. She apologized for setting Steve up with someone else, berating herself for not noticing anything was amiss before. Tony forgave her, of course. It wasn’t her fault. It was his. His fault for believing in Steve, for thinking he could have this. That he could actually be happy.

But after two weeks of feeling miserable and sorry for himself, Tony decided he needed to get back to his life. Steve already ruined my love life, he thought, a bit dramatically, not gonna let him ruin my academic life as well. So, on a Monday, he got up, got dressed, and left the apartment, somewhat ready to face the day. And found Steve sitting on the ground, just outside his building, with a bouquet of flowers on his hand.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, Tony exclaimed, surprised.

Steve, who was staring at the ground looking miserable, suddenly looked up when he heard Tony’s voice and immediately got up.

“Hi”, he whispered, “I’ve been coming here every day, waiting for you to come out”.

“Why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“I did”, he said, grimacing, “Rhodey broke my nose and told me to get lost both times”.

“Good”, Tony replied, satisfied, even though deep down he felt a little sorry for Steve.

“Look, Tony, please, just let me say this. And when I’m finished, if you want me to go away and never come back, I will, I promise. Please”.

He was begging. He looked so sad and so lost, Tony’s heart melted a little. So, he crossed his arms and waited for Steve to talk.

“I… I know I hurt you. Bad. And I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself for causing you so much pain, Tony, really. You were right. The problem was me. Deep down, I knew my ma wouldn’t care if I was gay. And I know Bucky and the others wouldn’t care either. I just… I don’t know, I had this idea in my head that it was different with me, you know. That it was okay for Clint to be gay, but if they found out I was? They would hate me. I don’t know why I thought that, but I did”.

Tony looked away for a moment and exhaled, closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry for exposing you like that. That wasn’t cool. You should be able to come out on your own terms and I took that from you. I exposed you to your friends when you clearly weren’t ready to come clean. I’m really sorry about that. It was a dick move”.

“Yeah, it was”, Steve replied, with a huffed laugh, “But I get it. You spent two years hiding for me, Tony. Two years pretending and trusting that I would get the courage to come out one day, and then you find out I went out with some girl. I get how much that hurt you, because if it was me in your place, and I heard you went out with someone else, I’d be devastated. But I need you to know this. Nothing happened. I swear. We ate, we talked, she went home. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t even hug. I just did it so Natasha would leave me alone, you know”.

“Yeah, I get it. I guess we both screwed up”.

Steve nodded, looking down at the flowers in his hand.

“I’m seeing a therapist. She’s helping me with this idea I had in my head, you know. That it’s okay for other people to be who they are, but not for me. I’m getting better”.

“That’s good, Steve”, Tony replied, “I’m happy for you”, he said and he meant it.

“I just… I know it’s a lot to ask, but… Can we try again? I’ll be better this time, I promise. I just… I love you. And I miss you so much. Please”, he whispered, looking at Tony with a pained look.

And Tony thought about it. He remembered every happy moment he had with Steve, and how much he loved him. They had hurt each other, he knew, but they could get past it. He knew they could. So he smiled and took the flowers from Steve’s hand, holding them to his chest.

“How about this time we start with a date?”

And, in that moment, Steve’s smile could light up the entire city.

#50 Prompts Challenge #Let's train and get better at this writing thing #stony #bit angst #tony stark #steve rogers #alternate universe #fanfic

[wxy85]

People have no sense of reality, responsibility or commitment. They will adopt cute little pigs or ducklings or puppies and when their cutsy itsy baby animal turn into a grown ass swine or duck or dog, suddenly they’re not cute enough anymore to be worth the trouble. Guess what Linda, you should have thought of that before. It’s the same goddamn thing with the fitness implants, sure it’s tempting to hack yours, amp it up to the max and live your muscle growth fantasy. But who’s gonna wipe your butt when you’re too big to bend your arms? Who’s gonna feed you with that fucking funnel to get the bare minimal 10k calories you need to survive? Who’s gonna sponge bath you? Who’s gonna take care of every one of your fucking needs because you’ll be as helpless as a fucking potted plant? I got stories like that every month, they’re nothing special. They’re sadly common stories of abandonment, broken dreams and aborted love stories. Ever since we opened the Bullpen with a few other guys, we’ve been receiving hundreds of requests to take in boyfriend, husbands or sons that were a burden on their family due to their size. But we can’t take everyone in, as much as we want to help those overgrown bulls. Their care is expensive, and we had to make the Bullpen a sustainable space. We take in up to 50 Bulls max, 30 gay bulls 20 straights there is an overlap for bisexual ones. We feed them, take care of them in a five star complex. Each bull have a dedicated caretaker that see to his every need. A happy bull is a growing bull and a growing bull is a bankable bull. The facility is filled with camera and we sell subscriptions to channel broadcasting the feed to muscle fetishists all around the world. We sell bulls from time to time too. We make sure the people adopting them are able to take a decent care of them. That allows us to have new bulls over and so on. Oh come on! Cut that fucking outraged face,i don’t need a lecture on how this is prostitution and human trade, I know what we’re doing. I don’t care what you think, we’re actually helping those big morons because no one else would. I’ll tell you the story of Rafael, how we got him here, how we rescued him from of a fucking shithole and how much better he is now with us. Rafael application was sent in by his boyfriend Chad. There was a lot of pictures documenting their story and a long long letter from Chad explaining why we wanted his beloved bull gone from his life. Let me tell you that letter wasn’t a touching text about the man he loved, it was the cry for help of an asswipe that didn’t see the writing on the walls. They met in college they were both 20 years old, Chad was your all american closeted football player and Rafael was a brilliant exchange student from Mexico. They fell in love, thoug i suspect it was only skin deep but I’ll never know for sure. Chad a square jaw blond hair blue eyes and that thick body of a football player while Rafael was a model like young man with dark almond eyes jet black hair, full lips and a very open and joyful face. I knew right away he’d be a hit in the bullpen. After a year of relationship Chad had opened to Rafael about his muscle fantasies and talked his very enthusiast boyfriend into getting his fitness implant unlocked and amped to the max. Like always it was fun at first. Within the first few month Rafael had turned into a real fitness freak. One of those adonis you see all over your IG feed. But that was merely a temporary state as Rafael was just beginning his journey toward freakdom. Six month into it, Rafael was already a big as a pro heavyweight bodybuilder, his shape was incredible, thin waist, ripped body, massive arms and ass and legs. Chad didn’t mention anything about it but from Rafael’s bulge on the pics of that period, he was also growing down there. It was probably the best period for them. Chad paraded his trophee boy all over the place. The tipping point was when Rafael dropped out of college. One of the very bad side effects of amping up an implant is that it upset the hormonal balance so much that it slowly turn people into dumb obedient and totally dependent persons. Bulls if you want. As it started to affect Rafael, he tried doing odd jobs but couldn’t keep one because of his degrading emotional state and shears size and range of motion. And yet, he was still growing. As expected, one year into the process Rafael had left the realm of humanly possible. Bigger than any roidhead, he was turning into a dumb obedient bull in need of constant attention. It was a full time care that Chad couldn’t provide. What happens in that sort of situation? What wasn’t said in Chad’s application? I had a faint idea of course. Rafael growth chart had started to curb down but he was far from done. Remember what I said : a happy bull is a growing bull. I knew Rafael wasn’t receiving proper care, I just had no idea how much of a shitshow it really was. Rafael was to be my new protege. My former one had been sold to an rich entrepreneur from the United Arab Emirates (with the utmost discretion of course). And as I perused the various applications I saw potential in Rafael and decided to be his caretaker. I took the Bullpen truck and drove all the way to their place to pick Rafael up. Due to their size, Bulls don’t do well in planes or bus. The truck has been modified for their comfort and has some material for emergencies an unplanned events. Chad and Rafael lived in a small house on the outskirts of the town. An affordable place for a low income couple. I remember pulling in their driveway an early morning of june. I was greeted by a nervous Chad, waiting for me on the porch. He was a gorgeous man but he looked like shit. Dirty sweatpants and t-shirt, messy hair and bags under the eyes. He was a wreck, it almost sparked sympathy in me but I knew Rafael was sort of the real victim here. -”Hello, Chad. I’m Leigh. We talked on the phone, I’m here to pick Rafael up” I said forcing an ultra brite smile. Chad eyed me from top to bottom, I knew the man was checking me out. I had a perfectly configured fitness implant and I dare say my body was fitness magazine cover material. I was wearing worn out jeans and a tight t-shirt that did hug my body in the most flattering way and a very expensive pair of shades, but the display wasn’t intended for him. -” Yeah, he’s inside.” he said nervous. I could feel something wasn’t quite right. Most of the bulls are waiting to be picked up more impatiently than their carers are waiting to get rid of them. I decided to probe around a little. -”Is his stuff ready?” I asked. -”He doesn’t really have stuff to pack. He doesn’t fit into anything anymore.” He said growing more nervous. “...And he doesn’t know yet.” I felt my face crack on the spot. Chad froze, probably afraid I’d just cancel the pick up. -”You didn’t tell him? That's irresponsible” I snapped. -”It’s not easy ok?!” Chad said eyes watering. I took my sunglasses off and stared right into his eyes until he squirmed on the spot. -”Spare me that bullshit.” I said flatout. “Let’s get going.” I said pointing at the door. When we entered, the first thing that I took in was the smell. It was terrible. And the second thing was the mess. It was equally terrible. We entered the living room, there was several dirty mattress piled on the floor. It was a makeshift bed for Rafael. he was still sleeping. I felt my heart tighten, he was dirty, unkempt. I wanted to punch Chad for doing that to his boyfriend. I had never seen a bull left in such a terrible state. Chad walked to Rafael and shook his shoulder softly. It felt unnatural. -”Rafael, wake up.” he breathed “wake up.” Rafael stirred. He was incredibly large compared to his boyfriend I’d say around 6’6 and over 400lbs with a body fat in the singledigits. Yet that seemed smaller than what I expected. It dawned on my that he might be underfed. Rafael slowly woke up, asking Chad for a hug. Chad looked dead inside, he went along but I could tell he wanted nothing to do with Rafael. and then Rafael spotted me. -”Who’s that?” he said. I remained silent, letting Chad take responsibility. -”It’s Leigh, he’s here for you. He’s gonna take you to the Bullpen.” To those guys the Bullpen is a fucking Disneyland on roids. Getting accepted in is generally the best day of their lives. So I did not expect the reaction that followed. -”YOU’RE ABANDONING ME?!” Rafael cried. The whole fucking house shook. Chad almost pissed himself of fear. I stayed stolid, straight in my designer leather boots. Two things about bulls: first they’re submissive stay cool and they’ll obey. Second, they’re practically harmless overgrown teddy bears. So I while Chad was expecting him to go on a roid rage like rampage I knew Rafael would most likely just start wailing and sobbing. -”You can’t leave me! You said you’d take care of me. That you wanted it.” Rafael said. Chad couldn’t even look him in the eyes. -”Babe, you said you loved me. That we were in it together. You can’t give me up.” Rafael said between heavy sobs. Chad remained silent as Rafael was stuck on repeat. His hair was long and unkept. His tears flowing on his cheeks, leaving trails in the dirt. That was the last straw. I laid my hand on Chad’s shoulder and shoved him toward the door. -”Get out of here. Wait outside. You’re useless.” I said I turned to Rafael who was looking at me for the first time really. -”I wanna stay with Chad.” Rafael said still sobbing. I looked for a clean spot to sit but couldn’t find any so I stayed up. -”When was the last time you two had sex? or even some sort intimacy?” I asked. “When was the last time he took care of you? When did he cleaned you last time?” -”I don’t fit in the shower anymore…” -”There is a hose outside, he could wash you. He could clean the dump he makes you live in. Does he even feed you correctly?” Pregnant pause. -”Look, I can’t force you to come with me. But I’m pretty sure you’re not happy here… Can I at least give you a haircut and a shower. We’ll talk afterward. Rafael nodded. -”Good.” I breathed. “I’ll be right back.” I walked out to the truck. It had basic clothes and an first aid kit. I put some clean clothes, soap, shampoo, sponge and an oversized towel in a bucket and walked back to the house. Chad was out by the door, smoking and staring at me. I shot him a nasty look. -”don’t move from here till I’m done.” I said. Back in the living room Rafael was up. Trying to cover his nudity with hands but he was so wide, thick, muscular and hung he had troubles being decent. I smiled to him and gestured for him to move toward the backyard. I made him stay on the concrete terrace -”Sorry it’s gonna be cold.” I said I then splashed the big man with water, He shivered as the cold water hit his massive body. I drenched him and then cut the water I grabbed some soap and the sponge and started washing him. I love washing bulls. I love rubbing their massive muscles. I started with his back, Rafael was really a gorgeous one, sinewy and massive. He had a tapered waist that highlighted his insane V shaped torso and his huge round ass and legs. His proportions were insanely erotic. I was boning in my jeans as I felt his thick muscle, rubbing suds in worshiping manner. He was breathing slowly, definitely enjoying some much need attention. I moved to the front. He was even more impressive upfront, he had proper bull neck and massive traps. His pecs were gorgeous full slabs of muscle adorned with large large brown nipples. His abs were hard, defined and bulged in an obscene manner. Between his legs was a fat uncut cock, probably a 10 incher, all chubbed up by all the attention he was getting. I rolled off his foreskin to clean him thoroughly his dick hardened in my expert hands. I teased him just enough to get him almost fully hard and flustered but not enough to send him over the edge. With the grime gone, his skin had a warm light brown tone that highlighted his incredible physique. I noticed a few stretch marks on his shoulders and ass. Bulls grow so fast they need a good skin moisturizer or stretch marks happen. I had some nourishing oil to fade them, I made note to use it afterward. I noticed a few dark traces on his pecs that hadn't disappear. I got a closer look and my heart sank as I noticed those were bruises. -”How did you get those?” I asked afraid of the answer. -”It’s nothing.” He said deflectively. -”they’re not noting. They’re bruises, the are blueish so they’re a few days old already and they’re on a weird place.” -”It’s my fault… i didn’t even notice them.” -”how so?” -”I can’t stop my growth. Chad said I needed to but I can’t stop it. I couldn’t obey him… and…” Rafael stopped breaking down in tears again. I hugged him, getting my clothes drenched in the process. We stayed a few minutes, I hold him tight, rocking him softly until his sobbing stopped. -”I’ll come with you.” he said softly. -”That’s a relief... I wouldn’t have left you here anyway.” I said. “I’ll take of you and I’ll make sure you’re happy. You can count on me. Let’s get this over and tear out of here. Sit.” He obeyed and i proceed to wash his hair and then buzz it in a short neat fashion. His gorgeous face was finally in full view. He was looking tired but he still was that drop dead gorgeous young man from his college picture. I rinsed him one last time with the hose. I oiled his marks, put some ointment on his bruises and then helped put on shorts short and a string tank top made of soft light brushed cotton. I got him a pair of flip flop for his massive feet. His fat dick was leaving a major dick print in his grey shorts and his tank was hugging his massive frame. He was even more handsome than i expected. I put all the stuff back in the bucket and we went around the house to get to the truck. I stashed the bucket in the truck and got my tablet out. I prompted the contract on it and hold it out to Rafael. -”I need your signature on that contract. The bullpen will be your legal guardian. We’ll see to your every need and well being. In exchange we’ll monetize captions of your daily life in the bullpen.” I said. Rafael looked at me and then at Chad still on the porch of the house where he had been chain smoking out of stress and/or guilt. Rafael’s last glance was heartbreaking but brief. He pressed his thumb on the tablet to sign. Without a second glance he climbed in the truck. I looked at Chad, and decided to ignore him. I’m pretty sure sure I wouldn’t have been able to control myself and would have punched him in the throat. Instead I climbed in the truck and drove away from here. The trip’s only event was our stop midway. we stopped for food and coffee at a dinner in the middle of nowhere. Rafael was like a kid on Christmas when I told him to order everything he wanted. The waitress was shook by the amount of food he ordered and all the patrons were staring at the massive man taking up almost two seats of our booth while he shovelled crazy amounts of food in his mouth. He looked so happy, it was contagious. I can’t save every bull in the world but I try. One bull at a time. He was totally oblivious to the nasty stares he was getting and so was I. I delighted in watched him dig in his food and as I ate mine I booted my tablet to get some stuff done. -”What are you doing?” he asked between two mouthful. -”Don’t talk with a full mouth. I’m just taking care of some… paperwork… regarding Chad.” I heard him gulp and from the sudden silence coming from his side of the table, I noticed he had stopped eating. I raised my head to look at him look at me with a concerned face. -What?” I asked -”You’reporting him?” I breathed deeply. -”Yes. For domestic abuse and endangering the life of others.“ Rafael laid a thick hand on mine. -”Please don’t.” He said. “He’s had enough trouble.” I shot a hard look to Rafael. making it clear i disapproved his decision. Relationship with Bulls is not just bossing them around and stuffing them. There needs to be trust and respect between a caretaker and his bull. So I deleted the report i was about to send. -”Fine.” I said. “I don’t approve of it but I guess it is your decision to make.” -”Thanks.” he said with relief. Once we were done with lunch I paid the astronomical tab and we were back on the road. It was 10pm when we reached the Bullpen. We were both exhausted. I took Rafael straight to his room. It was a vast room with hardwood floor, white walls and ceiling, a massive bed with white sheets and a little furniture in clear would with discreet steel reinforcements. It had windows that took all of the far wall of the room and showed the forest encircling the bullpen. I gave him a tour of the room before closing the blinds. -”I’ll let you rest for tonight. I’ll give you a tour of the facility tomorrow morning.” I said. -”Leigh?” -”Yes?” -”I don’t wanna sleep alone.” -”Of course.” I said. “I’ll just grab a shower and go to sleep with you. -”I could use a shower too.” he said shyly I smiled and gestured him to the bathroom. I went to the dressing and retrieved two pair of soft loose boxers for us after the shower and went to bathroom where Rafael was struggling to get undressed. The bathroom was a large room in polished concrete with a large wooden reinforced stool that doubled as a stepladder and a storage for shower supplies. It was designed for bulls to sit on and for caretaker to climb on to clean their bull. Their was sprinklers heads on the ceiling to ensure an efficient use of water. I watched Rafael try to take off his tanktop before, it was a turn on watching big guys struggle and that would definitely please the watchers of our channels. They loved seeing big guys struggle with mundane tasks. Rafael ended up looking at me with a pleading look. -”Sit.” I said. He obeyed. I climbed on the stool and grabbed the bottom of his tanktop and lifted it off his massive frame. -”Stand up.” I grabbed the waist of his shorts and yanked them down. He gasped as his big dick flopped in the open. I went to a laundry box by the entrance of the bathroom and dumped the clothes in them. It then turned my back Rafael and undressed. I felt him watch me. I wanted him to watch me. Bulls have a crazy sex drive they need sex several times a day to be happy. And that bull hadn’t had sex in a while. It was my duty to make him happy… plus Rafael had got me sort of horny. I turned around as if i wasn’t naked, exposing my perfectly shaped body and decent cock, walked to the tap and unleashed a a warm rain in the room. Rafael was on the stool in the middle, he was beaming… I wondered when was the last time he had felt hot water on his skin. I washed both of us, he sat obediently on the stool while I took care of us. I wasn’t just cleaning him i was massaging his huge muscles, caressing his huge frame, exploring part of his body that hadn't been touch in a while. His pits, his crack, under his pecs or under his lemon sized balls. He was hard as a rock. I grabbed his fat dick and stroked it pretending to clean it. He was looking at me, waiting for me to make a move. I leaned against him and kissed his soft lips. He moaned in delight. We made out for a few minutes. We then sat next to each other and started masturbating each other. His temperature was rising, we would exchange kiss and caress as we pleasured each other. -”Get on your back. I know what my bull needs.” I said Rafael laid on his back on the stool, licking his lips in anticipation. He raised his legs in the air exposing his hole. I grabbed the lube in the shower supplies and used a generous amount on both my dick and his hole. I started teasing his hole with my cockhead. He was breathing hard, looking at me with lust, he begged me to fuck him. I went in slowly and gently. He was tight and hot around my dick. I’d go back and forth with the tip to loosen him. Sliding myself further in everytime. Until I had all my seven inches buried in him. He was slowly loosening around me and soon I was pounding him good. It felt amazing having his massive legs around my body as I pounded his huge ass. I grabbed his dick and wanked him as I fucked his brain out. The moment he came I allowed myself to pound him harder and fill him with seed. His whole body relaxed, shook by occasional spasm of the afterglow. After a little rest, I cleaned both of us again. After helping my bull in a sitting position I turned off the water, towelled us and helped him put on his boxer before going to bed. Rafael was just at the beginning of his conditioning as a bull and he was already doing so good. He’d be one of the best we had ever had here. I knew it. We laid on the massive bed and hugged each other to sleep. -”Leigh?” -”Yes.” I said half asleep. -”thanks.” -”My pleasure.” I chuckled. I heard him from afar as I was falling asleep. -”Please… tell me you won’t leave me.” -”I won’t. You’re mine now...” I said before blacking out.

[urdearestmom]

Dorito Bagels

“Might I ask why there’s Doritos everywhere?”

“No.”

Theo had thought that maybe today might be an ok day. Turns out, it looks like it’s going to be the opposite. He wakes up on the couch in the living room with a massive headache, sunlight pouring in the windows, and no Boris to be found. He’s also covered only by a blanket but he can hear the dryer going so he must have put his clothes into the laundry sometime last night, although he doesn’t remember it.

Upon sitting up, Theo feels the need to barf so he runs to the bathroom as quickly as he can before he throws up. While he’s busy with his head in the toilet, Popper comes into the small room and sits on the floor next to him.

“What’s up, Popchyk?” Theo says, wiping his mouth as he stands. He flushes the toilet, then turns the tap for a quick rinse. His mouth tastes horrible. “Where’s Boris?” The small dog turns and sniffs the air outside the door as if smelling Boris out of wherever he’s hiding. It’s then, as Theo looks down at Popchyk, that he notices the dog has a patch of orange fur.

He leans down to take a closer look, his head spinning. It almost looks like… cheese dust? What the fuck? “Boris! Where are you, asshole?”

There's no answer. Theo just shrugs and decides that Boris must have gone home, for whatever reason. "Let's get you cleaned up, ok?" He says to Popchyk, scooping him up and into the sink. Popchyk's fur is dirty anyway, even without the addition of whatever the fuck that orange shit is, so Theo thinks it's probably a good idea to give him a bath. Cleanliness of dogs' fur affects their health, right?

When that's done, Theo takes Popchyk with him into the kitchen to make breakfast. He takes some ibuprofen for his headache and then sets out to find something edible. He’s buttering a rare find in this house, a bagel, when the dryer goes off, alerting him to the fact that the cycle is done. It’s then that Theo remembers he’s actually butt naked, but it doesn’t really concern him since apparently he’s home alone. Regardless, he makes his way to the machines near the back of the house and takes out his warm clothes. As he slips his shorts on, he notices a trail of orange on the carpet leading to the stairs, at the foot of which Popchyk is sitting, looking expectantly at him.

“What do you want, boy? What’s this? The same stuff that was in your fur?” It definitely looks like it. But the question still stands: what is it?

Theo has a feeling that whatever it is has something to do with the suspiciously missing Boris Pavlikovsky. He stands at the foot of the stairs next to Popchyk and sees what must have caught the dog's attention. There's more orange on the steps, this time with the addition of some crumbs.

"That fucking fuckhead," Theo grumbles, starting to make his way up with Popchyk at his heels. "Been eating chips without me. BORIS!" There's still no answer, but as Theo bears down on his bedroom he sees a continuation of the orange trail disappear right under the door. It's of no surprise to him when, upon opening the door, the other boy is curled up on his usual side of the bed. What strikes Theo is the ridiculous amount of Doritos bags surrounding him.

"Boris!" He doesn't stir, simply letting out a small snuffle that warms Theo's heart (not that he would ever admit it). Theo looks around for something to throw and alights upon a book on the floor, which happens to be Boris' copy of The Idiot. Boris is lucky it's a paperback, because it clips him right in the nose and he jolts up in bed with a yell.

"What the fuck, Potter?" He asks groggily, rubbing his face.

Theo crosses his arms. "Might I ask why there's Doritos everywhere?"

“No." Boris flops back onto the bed and shoves his head under his pillow, a few errant bits of hair sticking out. Popchyk trots over and sits at the head, whining until Boris snakes an arm over the side and brings him up to lie next to him.

“How did you even get this many chips?”

“I have been stealing some bags sometimes and hiding them in your house in case we are hungry.”

“We’re always hungry,” Theo says. Boris only gives him the finger in response. “Come on, there’s food in the kitchen and I’m making breakfast.”

Boris lets out a noise that sounds halfway between a snort and a cough, due to its being muffled by the pillow. “Is three in the afternoon, stupid.”

“Is not.” Theo looks at the clock in the corner of his room. “It’s 2:59.”

“Wow, big difference.”

Theo sighs and uncrosses his arms, walking over to hop onto his side of the bed. He sits facing Boris, crossing his legs before pulling the pillow off the other boy’s head. Boris glares at Theo for a few moments before lifting his head from the mattress and promptly dropping it in Theo’s lap. Theo’s hand reflexively makes its way into Boris’ hair, twisting and entangling itself in the dark mess.

It’s a position they find themselves in often, usually when they’re high and feeling cuddly, but sometimes just when Boris needs comfort and it’s all Theo can really offer. Boris is more touchy, so when it’s Theo that needs to be comforted he has no issues with hugging and cuddling up. Theo, on the other hand, doesn’t like to touch other people if he can avoid it, so combing his fingers through his friend’s hair is a good compromise.

“Come on,” Theo says softly. “I was buttering a bagel before I came up.”

Boris’ eyes are closed but he smiles. “I stole them.”

“What?”

He opens them. “This morning. I wake up and you are asleep but I am hungry, so I go to the store. Bought milk and stole some bagels in my coat. Thought you might like them.”

Theo shakes his head fondly. “You’re going to get yourself arrested one day. I thought Xandra bought them.”

Boris laughs a quiet, raspy laugh. “Xandra, she is hot but she is not very smart. Spends all money on cocaine instead of food.”

“I guess she does,” Theo answers contemplatively. “Well, whether you stole them or not, the bagels aren’t going to eat themselves.”

Boris sighs; a long and heavy sigh, before getting up off the bed, scooping Popchyk onto the floor, and walking out of the room. Theo follows their dog down the hall, inadvertently eyeing the lines of Boris’ back as he stretches on his way down the stairs. He’s not wearing a shirt, his jeans riding low on his hips, and Theo can’t help but stare. Boris is captivating in a skinny, malnourished-looking sort of way. Theo doesn’t know what to make of it. Sometimes Boris is the most beautiful person in the world and other times he’s the ugliest, and it confuses Theo even more than usual. He decides not to think about it.

When Theo arrives in the kitchen, Boris is already knocking back a can of beer. He stops to watch as a drop of the liquid travels down the other boy’s neck and catches on his protruding collarbone. Boris wipes his mouth and turns to Theo with a leering grin. “What you are staring at, Potter?”

Theo punches him hard in the arm before heading to the counter to butter another bagel. “How skinny you are, you look like a skeleton. Also, how and why the fuck did you get Dorito dust all over the fucking carpet? Xandra’s going to kill us both,” he says, slopping some butter onto the fresh bun.

Boris pushes himself onto the counter next to Theo, swinging his feet. “Is not important. I do not even remember, you see? We just have to clean it,” he answers, shrugging.

Theo thrusts the bagel in Boris’ direction. “Eat,” he commands, reaching for his own bread and taking a bite out of it. It’s only as he’s chewing that he realizes he was actually ravenous.

Boris watches him eat for a moment before laughing. “What are you laughing at, you fuck?” Theo asks through a mouthful of bagel.

“We are like husband and wife, you and me, Potter,” Boris says. Theo almost chokes. “Always you are telling me we have to clean up, you did it just now! And you make food, make sure I am eating. But I am the one who brings the food. You see?”

Theo swallows, holding back a cough. “First of all-” the cough comes out anyway, “-that’s some misogynistic bullshit right there, and second, I’m not a girl!”

Boris shrugs again. “Does not matter. Same thing I am trying to say.”

“You’re fucked in the head, you know that?” Theo retorts. “You’re cleaning up the mess you made by yourself.”

“See! Wife!”

Theo glares. “Still not a girl!”

“Husband, then, if you have such problem with it.”

“Oh my god, Boris, that’s not what I fucking meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Boris asks, a challenging glint in his eye.

Theo shakes his head. “I’m getting a divorce and Popchyk is coming with me.”

Boris places a hand over his heart in mock offence. “But you say we are not married! How can you get a divorce?”

“Irrelevant.”

“You’re irrelevant,” Boris scoffs. “Snaps likes me better. Don’t you, Pop?”

Popchyk immediately starts jumping, swiping at Boris’ feet. Boris leans down to catch him under the forelegs, lifting the dog into his arms and nuzzling into his fur. Popchyk pants happily and Boris sends Theo a one-eyed look that says, I win.

“Okay, fine, you can keep the dog,” Theo acquiesces, taking another bite of bagel. “But fuck you if you think I’m helping you clean that mess.”

Boris throws an arm in the air. “Ischézni!”

“It’s my house!”

#dorito bagels #the goldfinch #fanfiction #boreo #theo decker #boris pavlikovsky #popchyk #love me some domestic ships #please reblog if you like it! #thanks #urdearestmom

[fingersinhisass]

alphonse. d. do all of the questions for alphonse, whom I love and would die for.

with pleasure my dear

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

ok i had to dig WAAAAAY fucking back in my texts to find this bc i can’t fucking remember it but. his birth name is laermeluion (lyre-mehl-wee-on) aeralinde, when he was in the mafia he went by horthien, and now his full name is just. alphonse mcallister. laermeluion means “man with a sweet song”, horthien means “quick”, and he just chose his current name bc he liked that it sounded human.

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

not currently. pretty sure he gets a title when he marries shaelle but?? i can’t remember what it is

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

he grew up very very poor and he never actually had any proper schooling but his momma loved him to death and did the best she could to give him a good childhood, so he was generally a pretty happy kid. his best memories are of playing in the neighborhood and getting up to trouble with the other kids, and then of his mom singing him lullabies in elvish. a bad memory is when one of his best friends fell off the top of some scaffolding at a construction site their little gang was playing at and basically bashed his skull in. the kid was in a coma for a week before he finally died and it was al’s first real experience with death.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

he has an extremely close relationship with his mom. his dad, not so much. the guy wasn’t exactly a great father and they didn’t hate each other or anything, but he was always distant towards his son. he just didn’t really know how to be a dad. a good memory with his mom is cooking vegetable soup on a rainy day. the sound of the rain on their thin roof, the warm aroma from the pot, her graying hair tied up and falling out of its bun. her worn, elegant hands chopping onions. a bad memory is the fight they got into when she found out he was fucking around with the mafia. she didn’t want that for her son. a good memory with his dad was just. sitting by the stove (they didn’t have a fire) in silence together?? alphonse on the dirt floor playing with something and his dad dozing off in his battered old armchair. sometimes he’d let him sit on his lap when he was younger, but that became less and less frequent the bigger he got. a bad memory is of getting in trouble for busting a neighbor’s window when he was around twelve – his dad dragged him inside by the collar and smacked him across the face and told him he needed to stop messing around and start pulling his weight if he ever wanted to get anywhere in life. 

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

this one is easy ‘cause he doesn’t have any siblings! he’s an only child

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

uhhh he never actually went to school??? he just did the police academy and became a policeman, then got promoted to detective. does that count

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

he did, he rolled with a big gang of kids that all lived on the same street. unfortunately a lot of them are either part of the mafia, dead, or have no idea he still exists, so.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

no pets as a kid, and none as an adult either. he likes animals but he’s too busy to properly keep one.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

dogs love him because they can sense a kindred lovable idiot spirit in him

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/etc?

he ADORES children, and i think kids generally like him pretty well too. he’s fun and patient, if not a little overprotective and worrying sometimes.

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

nope

12. What is their favorite food?

soup!!!

13. What is their least favorite food?

i know i answered this in another ask but i. i can’t remember. oops

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

all of his memories of food are associated with his mother. at least all of the happy ones.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

he’s actually pretty good at cooking, i think. he inherited it from his mom. they like to cook together when he comes to visit and vice versa. he probably also cooks for shaelle sometimes because it’s one of the ways he shows his affection – he’ll spend hours in the kitchen humming and whistling and bustling around. he would 100% wear an apron that says kiss the cook

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

neckties and pocket squares babey. he wears those and looks dapper as hell, and when he’s not wearing them they’re in his wardrobe, meticulously organized.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

he would probably take lots of candids of shaelle because he thinks she’s gorgeous all the time, but also plenty of stupid selfies. that being said, i don’t think he shares any of them. he’s a deceptively private person.

18. What’s their favorite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games, and anything else?

romance novels and poetry are his weakness in life. he likes pretty much all music?? and i think if they had tv in fantasyland he’d watch soap operas religiously.

19. What’s their least favorite genres?

he’s not a fan of non-fiction.

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when their favorite song comes on?

he likes music but can’t actually play anything – he can sing alright, but he’s no bard. mostly he whistles. if he hears a song he really likes he’d probably try to get someone to dance with him.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

he does have a temper, although that’s not usually the first thing that comes to mind. he can be very patient in certain situations and completely without patience in others – he particularly can’t stand assholes or situations he deems injust. when he REALLY loses his temper, he’s genuinely frightening. all of his intensity gets focused into his rage and it’s. it’s scary.

22. What are their favorite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

any curse will do. asshole, douchebag, motherfucker, etc. if he doesn’t like you, he will tell you straight to your face. and he won’t be gentle about it either.

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

he’s got a surprisingly good memory, considering he’s not all that bright. it’s usually his attention span that’s lacking, although when he hyperfocuses he HYPERFOCUSES. he’s better with faces than names, i think. he doesn’t forget people’s faces.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

uh, terrible. he’s bad at sleeping. he likes to sleep on a soft mattress.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humor? Are they funny themselves?

crude humor, not gonna lie. dick jokes will get him. but again, not in polite company. he has manners. he’s an easy laugher, though, and he’s funny but usually it’s because he’s stupid.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

he’s all smiles when he’s happy, and very bouncy and bright. he whistles like nobody’s business.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like when they’re sad?

sometimes he feels utterly hopeless. it’s difficult sometimes working on his cases, especially when they’re hasn’t been a lead in a while, and nothing seems to be going anywhere. he’s a quiet crier. he usually only cries in the privacy of his own home. when he’s sad, it’s like all the light has gone out of him. he’s a muted version of himself.

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

his biggest fear is being recognized for who he was, or for the monster he thinks he is. in general he’s afraid of spiders and heights. when he’s truly afraid he’ll get tense and serious and fidgety.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very overprotective? 

it depends on the fear. if it’s something he thinks is irrational then he can be less than helpful – he’ll just bluntly tell them that it’s stupid, because he genuinely doesn’t understand why they’re afraid of it. but if it’s something very serious, like fear of failure or death, something he can relate to, then he’s much more soothing and supportive.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

if you count running around the city on foot for investigations as exercise, then yes. otherwise he doesn’t really have the time for it.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

he doesn’t drink very often, and it’s usually only a glass or so of something. he doesn’t like to get drunk. but when he is drunk he’s very sappy and romantic and tends to wax poetic about nothing in particular. hungover he’s snappy and irritable. he finds other people amusing when they’re drunk or hungover, but he’ll help them out.

32. What do they dress like? What sort of shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

he dresses very smartly. three piece suit, tie, pocket square, overcoat, shiny black shoes. he generally buys clothes from a tailor – he makes enough money to be able to as long as he keeps his pieces relatively inexpensive. he loves the clothes he wears. if he actually gets the chance to get ready for bed, he wears a button-down pajama shirt and matching pants in a smooth, satiny material. otherwise he sleeps in the clothes he was wearing already. he doesn’t need to wear makeup and doesn’t really have any interest in it. his hair is neatly groomed and styled. he puts a lot of weight on appearance.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

whatever fantasy underwear??? but probably just briefs. although i can definitely see him wearing lingerie. but. not every day.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

he’s lean, athletic, with a trim waist and shoulders a bit on the wider side. angular but elegant. 5′11, tall for an elf. he doesn’t really care about his body either way?? he has other, more pressing reasons to feel bad about himself

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

trashy romance novels. expensive tobacco.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

he’s surprisingly eloquent, especially with the written word. he’s also just very good with people. when he wants to be, anyway. he likes reading, writing, going to see live music, dancing, long walks in the park, and memorizing monologues and poetry. someday that’ll come in handy when he gets to make that grand declaration of love he’s been dreaming of for decades. does blowing smoke rings count as a talent? he can carry a tune, but he’s not a singer by trade. he’s got a nice voice, though.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fiction or nonfiction?

he very much likes to read, but i think he’s a pretty slow reader since he didn’t go to school. his mom taught him how to read and write. he loves poetry and fiction.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

he admires dedication, steadfastness, bravery, expressiveness. he wishes he could play an instrument.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

he loves letters. i think even out of the fantasy world he still sends letters on his personalized, scented stationery. 

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

he drinks coffee for work, and he’s got a bit of a sweet tooth. he likes lemon desserts.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

probably pansexual??? he finds it attractive when people speak their mind or get passionate about something, and he’s also drawn to talent and intelligence. he likes muscles and, well. he’s a boobs guy. and hips and thighs. he likes the kind of relationship that burns intensely for a while and then fades into something more comfortable and warm. he very much likes spoiling his partner.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

his goal at this point is just to continue doing as much good as he can while working as a detective. he would sacrifice anything for his mother and his few friends. and for most people, really. he’s very self-sacrificing. he just wants to be able to as much as possible make up for the terrible things he did by doing good instead.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

he’s not religious, and i don’t think he cares much either way. it’s not really something he thinks about, unless someone uses their religion or lack of religion to justify something he thinks is shitty. then he classifies them as an asshole.

44. What is their favorite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

summer, blue skies and warm nights. he’s much more tolerant of the heat than the cold. he absolutely complains about being cold.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

people find him charming, or an idiot, or both. a lot of people see him as a good person, i think, which is completely at odds with how he sees himself.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

this one really depends. usually yes, he does make a good first impression, and one that reflects him accurately. that’s when he’s very polite and charming and kind. if he’s decided he doesn’t like someone, however, like shaelle’s boyfriend cam (i think that was his name lmao), he comes across as a total dick. because he acts like a dick.

47. How do they act on a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

al loves formal events and loves the excuse to dress up, but he hates snooty rich people. so it’s a bit of a toss-up for him. at the very least he gets to dance and enjoy free food and piss off some nobles, so yeah, i’d say he likes formal events.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organize the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

he loves dances. usually he just shows up, and dances with as many partners as he can, and is the absolute belle of the ball. if he didn’t want to go, then it’s a different story – it’s probably a party for nobles if he doesn’t want to go. but if it’s shaelle who’s making him go then he’ll behave because he loves her.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

a brooch that his mother gave him when he turned sixteen (in elf years, not human years). it’s one of the few beautiful things she ever owned, and he cherishes it and occasionally wears it on his lapel if he feels the need for a little extra luck and support. he’s very sentimental. he takes his pipe everywhere with him, and that’s half because he’s so attached to it and half because he’s got a nicotine addiction. oops.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them, what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

at least five different neckties to go with one suit, his pipe, the brooch, his favorite book of poetry. 

#it speaks #asks #alphonse #i love my baby boy........