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asset35-maya · 3 years

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HEAT WAVES

This is a short multi-character series about different kinds of love blooming in the summertime. Written as part of the DBH LATE SUMMER PROMPT CHALLENGE

(Read Parts 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 and 6 first!)

[PART 7/7: HEAT OF THE NIGHT]

**TW: SEXUAL CONTENT

“Hey baby.”

Gavin was barely audible as he shifted on Hank’s couch to make room for Nines. He opened his arms and let the android lay down with his back to his chest. He wrapped an arm around Nines’ middle and nuzzled his neck.

“I couldn’t find Sixty anywhere. Are you sure you didn’t see him leave?”

“Hmm…? No…”

“I think he’s disabled his tracker. The little shit! The house keeps coming up as his last location when I search for his signal!”

“Don’t worry, babe. He knows his way back. Like our cat… If Con went missing that would be a real problem. Like if Sumo went missing. But with Six… it’s like our bitch-ass cat. She comes and goes as she pleases. We shouldn’t wait up.”

Nines rearranged his husband’s sleepy grip to be less stifling and relaxed into the cuddle.

“Hmm. You always did understand my own brothers better than me. I just can’t figure out why he was so upset earlier.”

Gavin yawned and pulled Nines closer despite having just been pushed away a little. He tended to get handsy after a few drinks.

“He should be fine now...”

Frowning, Nines twisted in the human’s grasp. He was smooched lovingly before he could articulate any response. He allowed a few messy kisses before breaking off with a quiet whine.

“Gavin, if you know where he is, just tell me. I’ll sleep better for it.”

“Babe, I have no idea-”

He broke off as a rumble came from overhead. Something scraped across the tiles on the roof and came to a stop with a muted thud. Nines looked up at (and through) the ceiling, eyes glazing over and LED spinning rapidly.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

A detective through and through, Gavin chuckled as he easily deduced whatever Nines saw using his x-ray vision. He pressed a kiss to his husband’s throat.

“Just like us back in the day, huh?”

Allen broke away panting. He put a hand on Sixty’s chest to still him. It had been years since he’d done anything like this. Lying on top of a man’s house and making out with his son for hours like a teenager.

Their chaste first kiss had evolved into something decidedly more mature. Months of mutual pining and sexual tension spilled over effusively and now the two of them were rock hard and desperate for some kind of release.

Sixty moaned in Allen’s ear and ground against his thigh. With the way they were lying intertwined, that action also brought some much-needed friction to Allen’s groin. He sucked his breath in through his teeth.

“Sixty... just... Fuck it. Just touch me.”

“Are you sure, Cap?”

“Fuck, don’t call me that if you’re going to jerk me off!”

“Yes, sir.”

Sixty kissed him once more and undid the buttons of his jeans with ease. A hand slipped past the waistband and palmed his erection through his briefs. Impatient, Allen lifted his hips and brought both his underwear and jeans down to his thighs. Sixty’s eyes widened at the sight of the exposed and leaking cock.

Despite having very limited experience in this department, the android moved with confidence. He rolled over his captain’s body and captured his chapped lips in another deep kiss, wrapping a hand around the turgid shaft and stroking.

Allen sighed into the kiss with satisfaction and began to unzip Sixty’s trousers. He quickly found his prize and ran a thumb over the tip of the synthetic penis, producing a garble of static and glitching noises from the android.

Their wrists moved in tandem, speeding up and slowing down in a well-coordinated rhythm. Allen let his consciousness wander and allowed himself to forget that he was perched two floors above the ground. He placed all his trust in the android holding him. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so, albeit in a very different context... so it was incredibly easy.

Sixty soon felt himself get near to the close and could tell that Allen was even closer. He withdrew his hand and peeled Allen’s fingers off his own dick. Looking deep into his new lover’s eyes, Sixty lowered himself further and brought their slick cocks in direct contact with each other.

That was absolutely the right thing to do, considering the loud moan that Allen let out. The older man clapped a hand over his mouth in shock at his own reaction, but quickly recovered when Sixty spat between them and began to move. Trapped between their abdomens, their cocks slipped and slid against each other... hardening and pulsing and twitching... and then finally releasing.

LED flashing a myriad of colors and cooling fans running high, Sixty finished with a groan and fell onto the roofing tiles beside Allen. They both lay there staring at the moon… thoroughly undignified… shirts hiked up over their nipples…spent cocks dribbling onto their stomachs.

“Great job, Cap.”

“You too... bud.”

Tina arched her back and clamped her thighs over his hips as she rode him, backwards. She tossed her hair and rolled her body in ways she’d only seen in certain films. If she thought about it for too long, it felt kind of silly. Like she was just playing a part and the director would yell cut any second.

But this was real. This was not a Hollywood studio. This was her boyfriend’s bedroom and this was the sex life she had now.

She wondered whether it had anything to do with him being an android... Connor was insatiable. He wanted her all day, every day, everywhere.

She didn’t know if or how long it would last, but hell, she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was the best sex of her existence and she would take however much of it she was given, especially if it came with heaps of adoration and praise and affection.

Connor jerked his hips underneath her. She got the message and picked up the pace. His hands came to rest on her stomach from behind and slid upwards slowly to cup her breasts. He held on tightly and sat up, pressing his chest against her back with enviable core strength.

Tina turned in his grip and he brought his mouth to hers. She parted her lips and invited his tongue in. He then leaned forwards and brought her crashing down onto the mattress. Another position, then.

With a series of implicit gestures, Tina relinquished the lead and passed the control back to Connor. He flipped her onto her back and hooked her legs around his waist, all the while buried deep inside and pumping ceaselessly. His deft fingers circled her clit and she knew that she’d be coming again... for the fifth time in a row.

“Hey T.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Gavin sighed against Nines’ bare back. Falling asleep was proving difficult, given the clamour from various parts of the house. He knew his husband was wide awake too.

“Baby…”

“Shhhh.”

“Don’t act like you can sleep through all this.”

“What?”

“Your siblings making multiple trips to bone town? Plus your dad trying to out-snore his dog. It sounds like we’re on a farm here.”

Nines made a petulant noise but Gavin could tell that he was also amused.

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“Well, I’ve always said… if you can’t beat ’em… join ’em…”

Gavin scooted around on the couch a little and pressed his groin flush against Nines’ backside. A sharp hiss escaped the android.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

There was a pause (during which a series of snores and moans echoed in the living room) while Nines considered the proposition. He apparently found little objection to it and ground back against Gavin’s hardening length.

“Now we’re talking.”

Gavin gently bit down on his husband’s shoulder and pulled on the drawstrings of the sweatpants they both wore. He eased the fabric off the both of them. In no time at all, his stiffening cock was between Nines’ cheeks and his hand wrapped around Nines’ shaft.

Self-lubrication was one of the things about androids that Gavin was eternally grateful for. He gathered the drip from Nines’ tip and coaxed him to full mast, all the while rutting against the slick crease of Nines’ ass.

Their motions were easy, well-practiced.

Once they were both fully aroused, he stroked his hands over Nines’ body and guided one of his thighs up to fully expose his entrance. There was absolutely no resistance. Even in the dark, there was no hitch to any of these proceedings. They’d made love like this a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times again.

Gavin took hold of his cock, gave it a few pumps and aimed. He slowly found his mark, slipping in and bottoming out with grace. He hooked an arm around Nines’ raised leg and waited a beat, before pulling halfway out and pushing back in exactly once.

“Ohhh…”

“Is that good, baby?”

“Shhh… don’t talk.”

Gavin smiled into the side of Nines’ neck and set up a gentle rhythm with his hips. He had to go with the shallowest of thrusts if they intended to stay on the couch. But that was fine, they’d had plenty of rough, fast sex in the early days of their relationship. They weren’t missing out on anything. In fact, nowadays both of them preferred the sweeter, gentler kind of lovemaking.

Nines reached behind and cradled Gavin’s head in the crook of his arm, pulling him down for a deep kiss. He obliged easily, and for his part, used the extra room to slip his free hand around Nines’ body and grasp his cock.

Under each other’s careful ministrations, they took turns to sink into the pleasure and fall apart. Eventually, when he could hold himself back no longer, Gavin began taking all the steps to make sure Nines came first. He sinfully grazed the synthetic prostate on every thrust…caressed his chest… teased his nipples… massaged his laden balls… and pumped his cock with dedication until Nines seized up against him and came with a muted gasp.

Gavin stroked him throughout the climax and caught the ejaculate in his fingers. Without any instruction, Nines grabbed his hand and licked the mess off his digits. Keeping his breath steady, Gavin pulled out and lay flat on the couch with his flushed and wet cock in the air.

The android moved over him with absolutely no need to be asked. Nines took his husband into his mouth and swallowed down to the base of his shaft with an utterly inhuman lack of gag reflex. Gavin finished down his throat and the two of them fell back into the spooning position that they’d begun in.

They lay together quietly, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow of yet another round of happily married sex. It was so blissful that they almost forgot where they were until one of Hank’s rumbling snores resounded through the house. Nines had the presence of mind to get up and pull their sweatpants back on before both drifted off to dreamland… uninterrupted by lustful moans from the spare bedroom and heavy thudding from the roof.

@connor-sent-by-cyberlife

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robert-de-niro-only-fans · 3 years

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Absolute, Unconditional Surrender

Max Cady x Reader

All smut, no plot! Mature readers only!

Requested by @lamourducinema 💖✨

The title comes from Sexus by Henry Miller.

"To make absolute, unconditional surrender to the woman one loves is to break every bond save the desire not to lose her, which is the most terrible bond of all"

TW: SMUT, rough sex, deep throating, explicit sexual language, Max Cady in general

Word Count: 2.7k

"Hey, Max?" you call from the living room at your boyfriend's place.

"Yes, darlin'?" You hear him answer from the bedroom down the hall with that thick southern accent you had come to love.

"Come here! I have something to show you!"

"Oh? Well, why don't you bring it in here where I can get you in this bed?"

"But... Please? I promise you'll like it."

You're standing there leaning against a chair, dressed in some new lingerie you had bought. You just know it'll drive Max crazy. It's lacy and pastel colors: a two piece bra and panty with thigh high stockings and a choker beaded with pastel hearts and stars. Max is gonna love the sexy shape it takes on your body and how revealing it is and the child-like colors. He loves to play with the idea of you being so much younger and smaller than him.

You hear the man get up out of bed, and so you quickly stand up straight and put on a shy expression. Your legs are close together and your hands are holding each other behind your back, playing into how nervous you are to show him your new outfit.

He stalks down the hallway, tall, muscular, hair slicked back just the way he liked it.

"Oh baby..." is all he can say when he sees you in your lingerie. He lets out an excited grunt and makes his way across the living room to you in just a few steps of his long legs. He puts a hand on one of your shoulders and the other on your hip, squeezing his fingers into you as he looks you up and down.

After a moment, he spins you around slowly, so he can see your backside. He runs a hand over one of your butt cheeks before squeezing at it. He wraps his other hand around you, his hand landing on your chest at the base of your neck, and he pulls you back into him.

He gets right next to your ear and in a low voice asks, "Did you do this just for me, princess?"

You let out a hum as you feel his clothes pressing against your nearly bare body.

"Now, you know better than to not answer my question," he says, putting on a disappointed voice.

"Yes, I did it for you."

"Aww, see that's all you had to say," he says, turning you back around to fave him and backing you up into the wall, "you know I love it when you dress up for me, baby doll."

Max places his hands on either side of you, grabbing at your ribs, and he places a lengthy open-mouthed kiss on your lips. As your lips move together, you reach up and try to unbutton his shirt. He pulls away from the kiss and pushes your hands off of him.

"Is someone being a needy little baby tonight? Hmm?" He likes to talk to you like this, like he is in charge of you; it makes him feel like he has to protect you and take care of you. It also turns you both on to play this game, although it felt like it wasn't a game for Max sometimes.

"Well, you just look so good with your shirt off, I know you like to keep in shape."

"Aw, you sweet thing. You like my muscles?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mmm, well I like your little outfit," he says giving you another kiss, "but don't you think you should've come to the bedroom to show it to me, silly girl?"

"Well... I, uh," your voice trails off.

"You what, baby?"

"I was thinking maybe we could, um, do it in here."

"In here? Where in here?" He questions you in between kisses to your neck. You reach out and pat the arm of the big chair next to you. It was a big sturdy armchair that Max liked to sit in when you were in the living room. You spent a lot of time sitting in his lap making out with him in this chair before he would carry you back to his bedroom to make love to you.

He turned to look at your hand as your fingers lingered on the chair. "My chair? You want me to fuck you on my chair?"

You nod your head at him with a small smile, "Yes, please."

"Mmm, I guess you are feeling needy, honey," he says grabbing your by the hips and lifting you easily before sitting you on the side of the chair. He starts to make out with you again, as his hands travel to your thighs. He pushes them apart, teasing you by scratching there with his fingernails. When you let out a little whine, his hand moves to start massaging you through your panties.

You moan and arch your hips towards his hand. You pull away from his lips and ask in a breathy voice, "Can I take your shirt off, please?"

"Please what?"

There's a small pause, as you know what he expects you to say, but you like to make him wait for it. "Please, Daddy," you say, looking at up him through your lashes.

"Mm! Baby girl, you know I love it when you call me that... Yes ma'am, little darlin', you can take my shirt off," he says continuing his actions. You reach up to unbutton his shirt before sliding it off his shoulders, exposing his large biceps and toned abs that were covered in tattoos.

You let your hand slide down abdomin and past his belt to rub him through his pants.

"Ooh..." he says as he leans back down to you for another round of kisses. You feel him getting hard against your hand, and pretty soon he would be wanting more than just your hand on him.

He moves his hand away only for a second to slide it into your panties. The look of his big strong hand and long fingers disappearing into your pastel, lacy panties is a huge turn on for you. As his middle finger finds your clit and starts to stimulate you, a wave of pleasure passes through your body and you let out a loud, "Oh!" and your hand moves away from his pants and you try to grab at his sides, wanting him closer to you.

He makes a disappointed grunt at the loss of your hand. He grabs your hand and puts it back on his groin, and you try to move your hand against him and best you can, but you simply can't concentrate with the way his fingers are working between your legs.

"I'm disappointed, baby girl, you know I expect more from you. All distracted by my hand in your panties and you can't even think about me." Despite saying this, he still presses on pleasing you.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, it just feels so good," you say between heavy breaths.

"Oh, I'm sure it does, but you're just being a spoiled little girl. You want Daddy to make you feel good without doing anything for him," he mocks at you. "Well that just won't do," his hands leave you and he straightens up, towering in front of you, "you're gonna make me feel good too."

You look up at him sheepishly, "What do you want me to do?"

"Get on those knees for me."

"But... I'll mess up my new stockings! I got 'em to wear for you, Daddy," you argue. He likes it when you put up a bit of a fight, makes him feel like he's in charge, but he knows as well as you do that you have him wrapped around your little finger.

"Hmm, well you should've thought about that earlier, princess," he says, pulling you up off the chair and putting his hands on your shoulders, pushing you onto your knees in front of him.

His hands move to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, before he shoves them down to the floor. He puts his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, which here always small, silky, and vibrantly colored, to pull them down, but you reach up and stop him.

"Wait- can I do it? I feel bad about not making you feel good, Daddy," you explain to him.

"Aww, well, since you asked so kindly," he removes his thumbs from his briefs and puts a hand on your cheek and the other in your hair, "and I know what a good little angel you can be when you want to."

You reach up and grab his hard member through his underwear, teasing at the head by cupping you hand on it over and over again. He lets out a long low moan as he weaves his fingers into your hair. You lean forward, kissing and nibbling his member through the fabric. He becomes needy feeling the sensations traveling through his body. You fingertips grace over his the skin at his hips and happy trail just above the waistline of his underwear.

"Oh, now you're just being a tease..." He says looking down on you. He looks great from this angle. Looking up on him, his abs look more defined and his lusty eyes stare at you through his lashes.

You simply smile at him, kissing him through his underwear a few more time while you look into each other's eyes.

"Don't you act like you're innocent-" he starts to say, but you cut him off by pulling his hard length out and taking the tip in your mouth. As you please and suck on it, you push his silky underwear down around his ankles. Max, being the noisy lover he is, starts grunting and breathing heavily, finally finding some relief in the warm and wet of your mouth.

"Oh god, darlin'," he leans forward over you, putting a hand on the chair behind you for support and the other grips the back of your head at the nape of your neck, "you look so pretty with my cock between your lips."

When you feel the tip of his penis hit the back of you mouth, he moans loudly and begins to rock his hips into your mouth. When he starts to tug at your hair, moving your head back and forth, you know what he wants. You relax your mouth and throat as much as you can, and he pushes his length back into your throat.

"Good girl..." he practically growls, "Such a good girl for Daddy." His movements become a bit bigger, essentially fucking your face. You do your best to stay relaxed for him and try not to gag too much. You look up at him through your lashes; he looks down at you in pure ecstacy like there was no better feeling on Earth.

After a few moments, he started moving slower, pulling out almost entirely and then pushing all the way back in. He does this a few times before pulling out entirely.

"I'm not gonna lie to ya, baby girl; I got pretty close there and had to slow down," he said through heavy breaths and a chuckle.

"You could've finished if you wanted to," you say while trying to wipe the drool from your mouth. Max grabs his shirt from the floor to wipe your mouth.

"Oh, and missed out on fucking that little pussy of yours? I don't think so, little miss," he helps pull you up off your knees, "now get on that chair for Daddy."

You turn around and prop one knee up on the chair and arch your back so your butt pops out a bit.

"Mmm, you want it like that, baby?" Max asks with his eyebrows raised.

"Mm-hmm," you nod your head at him excitedly.

"Whatever you want, honey," he walks up right behind you and snakes his hand into your panties again, "since you were such a good girl for me."

You gasp lightly when he flicks a finger over your clit. He massages your there for a moment before removing his hand, grabbing your panties at the back, and pulling them to the side.

"I like your little surprise you had for me. I hope you don't mind if I fuck you in it," he whispers next to your ear. Behind you, you hear him spit in his hand and rub it around the head of his erection. You let out an eager moan when you feel him rubbing it back an forth on your entrance. Carefully, he pushes past your lips and enters you.

You move your hips up and down, taking him in deeper and deeper with each movement. The angle of him towering over you as you lean on the chair allows him to find your g-spot easily. When you begin to make noises letting him know how pleasured you feel, he grips your hip bones tightly and starts fucking into you hitting that sensitive area again and again. You begin letting out noises involuntary, whining and yelling as his dick slams into you.

"So wet and loud for me, baby girl..." he grunts into your ear, "and it's all mine, right?"

You furrow your eyebrows unable to form words, "Uhh-huh..." you utter.

"What's that, princess? Answer me. Are you mine? Do you belong to me?" he questions you.

You simply whine and arch your back, enjoying the feeling of him inside you. You feel a large muscular hand clasp around your neck and pull you back towards his chest.

"Answer me!" he growls, fucking into you furiously. As his hand clenches your airway, you feel the beads from your new choker pressing into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving a ring of little bruises.

With your head laid back on his shoulder, you look over at him as you feel the pleasure of the loss of blood circulation to your head, "Yes..." you squeak out. He loosenes his grip in your throat so you can speak. You cough a little bit and say, "Yes, Daddy, I'm all yours, Daddy!"

"That's what I like to hear; that's my good girl," he coos to you. The hand he had on your hip wraps around to your front and presses on your belly, forcing you to feel his hardness inside you. Your moans grow louder, and he continues to squeeze his hand around your throat ever-so-often.

You turn into a mess in Max's have as you feel your climax coming, "Max, baby... I'm gonna cum."

"Good, baby, good," he slides his hand down to massage your clit once again, and within seconds you're coming undone. Being pleased inside and out, you yell out for Max letting out string of "Daddy" over and over.

The man behind you squeezes down on your throat again, letting you feel the ecstacy of being choked while you orgasm. He also uses this as grip to grind his hips into you harder. Your orgasm continues on for a long time as your g-spot takes a pounding while Max searches for his own finish.

"Oh, I'm gonna cum inside you, baby. Daddy's gonna fill you up, princess," his pumps become quick and more rhythmic as he reaches his climax. He grabs your hips and shoves into you hard and deep; you feel his warm seed as he empties into you.

When he pulls out of your he releases his grip on your neck and steps back from you. You try to get your leg off the chair and lower it to the floor, but it starts shaking.

"You okay, little darlin'?" Max asks.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," you chirp to him.

When you try to stand up and step away from his chair, your shaky legs betray you. Max steps over quickly, catching you in his strong arms.

"Silly baby... I guess I fucked you 'til you couldn't walk anymore," he smiled, quite proud of himself. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up and go to bed." He scoops you up bridal style to carry you to the bathroom.

Surprisingly, Max is excellent with aftercare. As much as he likes to use and abuse your body for pleasure, he also likes to check on you, ask you if the sex was good, clean you up, and comfort you afterwards. He feels that if he doesn't take care of you, you won't let him play out his fantasies with you, which is his favorite thing to do.

And so he takes out a washcloth to clean you off, tells you how pretty you looked in your cute lingerie, and cuddles you until you fall asleep in his arm.

#robert de niro #tw: max cady #max cady #max cady x reader #robert de niro x reader #fanfic #cape fear #this is a bit spicier 🔥🌶️ than my usual fics #creepy loml

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imagine-darksiders · 3 years

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Old-Timer

Chapter 2 - A new friend

It must be testament to how vulnerable you're feeling that your first instinct is to try and scramble backwards and away from the maker as he carefully lowers himself down onto one knee, his eyes drinking in each little movement you make, as though he's convinced that if he glances away, you might disappear into thin air.

“Well now,” he muses, watching you back yourself up into the base of a gnarled tree trunk, “What manner of wee beastie are you?”

Your body turns as rigid as the wood pressed to your spine when he shuffles closer to get a better look at you, blocking your view of the trees beyond his impressive girth. He must notice the trepidation on your face because he suddenly hesitates, his once eager expression growing soft. Somehow, despite the sense of powerlessness you feel now that you're face to face with a maker who stands at least three heads taller than Thane, you find yourself easily disarmed by the dashing smile he throws at you, and when he speaks, his voice is as low and gentle as the rumble of a faraway thunderclap.

“You're a comely sight to see in these old woods,” he utters gently, his knuckles resting on the soft grass near your shoes, “What's a pretty, little thing like you doing in a place like this, ey?”

Thrown, you're almost inclined to protest to his observation. Covered in streaks of mud from where you'd rolled across the ground, leaves and twigs sticking out of your hair, red-eyed and wounded... You feel about as far from 'pretty' as it gets and even open your mouth to say as much, but the maker opens his first, a curious frown tugging at his sleek, golden eyebrows. “Don't reckon I've seen anything like you before...”

One of his enormous hands lifts to his beard and he gives it a few, thoughtful strokes. “Hmm. You're no demon. N'you're too small to be an angel. Well, that, and -” He pauses, gesturing at you vaguely. “- No wings.”

In contrast to the maker's pensive expression, you adopt a look of bafflement. Either he's been living under a rock and doesn't know a human when he sees one, or -

...Oh.

A chill runs down the length of your spine and you swallow thickly as it occurs to you that you might have travelled further back in time than you'd previously thought.

Wetting your lips, you suck down a lungful of the cool, evening air, not missing how the maker's ears instantly perk up in anticipation. “I-I'm a human,” you manage to croak.

All of a sudden, you find yourself jumping out of your skin when the giant bodily recoils and his eyes burst open, wide as saucers. “Maker's beard!” he exclaims, an enraptured grin pushing at the bristles of his moustache, “You speak Common!?”

“Uh...” Falteringly, you place a hand over your racing heart and raise one, cautious eyebrow at him. “I suppose? I mean, i-if that's what we're speaking right now, then... yeah?”

Huffing out a soft chuckle, the maker tips his head to one side and mutters, “Well, blow me down...”

For several moments, he regards you in silence until the corner of his lips begin to quirk into a coy grin. “S'pose that means you understand me when I say you're about the bonniest little creature I've ever laid eyes on?”

Now it's your turn to bark out a quick laugh. “Ha! You're charming,” you tell him honestly, noting that his very broad, very bare chest puffs out at the praise, “But while the flattery is appreciated, I'm afraid I'm a bit... um...”

'Preoccupied' is probably the most appropriate word for it, but in lieu of a better explanation, you reach forwards and brush your fingertips delicately over the cuts in your leg, hissing through your teeth when even that barest of touches elicits a blinding flare of white-hot agony.

You've never seen an expression shift from warm and amused to sober and serious so quickly before.

“He hurt you?” the maker growls dangerously, shelving any intrigue he holds for his enigmatic discovery, at least for the time being. You find it rather touching that he looks so perturbed on your behalf.

'Huh. Makers,' you muse fondly. Even here in the past, it seems that they're a protective bunch.

Bracing your hands on the ground, you try to push yourself up onto your boots, but the wounds make such a feat more painful than you'd expected and you let out a grunt as you thud back down onto your rear, huffing in frustration before you start to try again.

However, you don't manage to get far.

Movement catches your eye and you glance up, surprised to find yourself presented with the maker's titanic hand, held with the palm pointed to the tree tops and his index finger extended out towards you.

Rolling your gaze up the length of his vast, muscular arm, you meet his eyes...

...and very nearly have the breath knocked out of you by the earnest glow radiating from them. Long, golden lashes sweep gracefully up and down as he blinks at you, and softly, almost in a whisper, he asks, “Need a hand?”

You're so taken aback by the hypnotic pull of his blue stare that you can only nod wordlessly and lift an arm, slowly extending your hand towards him until you can rest your palm on the pad of his forefinger.

The moment your skin connects, the maker seems to buckle and he drops his mouth open, letting a shuddering breath roll out from behind his tusks. You realise that he's moved his gaze down and adhered it to the sight of your hand sitting daintily on his fingertip, looking woefully lost amongst the expanse of rough-hewn skin.

For some time, the maker doesn't utter a sound, nor does he move until eventually, you have to clear your throat, and with a jolt, he gives his head a brief shake, roving his eyes up to meet yours once more. “You're... so small,” he says incredulously, as though he's only just noticed.

One of your brows slants upwards and you level him with a cool smirk. “Yes, well... I'd say that you're so big, if I didn't think you were the type of maker who would let it go to his head.”

He appears appropriately startled by the quip and for a second, you have to wonder if you've perhaps stepped over some invisible boundary by falling back on humour as a defensive tactic, but then, the maker's fluffy moustache quirks up around a grin and he says, “Oh, I think I'm startin' to like you, little one.”

For good measure, he makes sure to flash you a wink that has you ducking your head to hide your face. Still sporting that dashing smile, he raises his hand and tugs you carefully onto your feet. Well. Foot. You make the mistake of trying to place weight on your bad leg and it immediately tries to collapse out from underneath you.

“Wheyup! Easy there.” A thumb and forefinger promptly catch you around the midriff and prevent you from falling onto your backside again. The pads of hot, calloused fingers press into your torso with just the barest hint of pressure, as though the maker is afraid that you'll break if he squeezes any harder.

“I'm okay, I'm good,” you try to reassure him, “Just... need to get my balance, is all”

He looks far from convinced and furrows his brow, giving you a skeptical hum as he begins to turn you around.

At first, you try to resist, perhaps due to some long-buried instinct telling you that having your back exposed to a complete stranger is a terrible idea.

You can practically hear the frown in his tone when he murmurs, “Stop squirming, let me see.”

Swallowing past an enormous lump, you force yourself to keep still whilst the maker drops his face closer to inspect your injury.

All is silent for a few minutes, and you're about to go and ask if it looks as bad as it feels when he suddenly blows a long, drawn-out whistle from his lips. “Shouldn'ta let that demon sod off so lightly,” he grumbles to himself, curling his free hand into a fist and then raising his voice to tell you, “Bad news is, you're still bleedin'. It's slow, but we'll need to stop it, soon.”

“Shit,” you mutter, “What's the good news?”

The maker's warm breath hits the base of your neck as he sighs softly. “Good news is, now we match.” He loosens his grip, prompting you to twist yourself around and raise a curious glance at him as he wordlessly lifts a hand and taps his left shoulder, drawing your attention to a trio of long, pale pink scars that start at the front of his clavicle and sweep over the bulging bicep before disappearing somewhere behind it.

“Ouch,” you grimace sympathetically, “How in the world did that happen?”

Eyes dropping shut, he looks about as proud as a peacock, sticking out his chest until it's almost obnoxiously swollen and replies, “Same way as yours did! Stalker got the jump on me 'bout two thousand years ago. He left his mark, but don't you worry – I left plenty of my own.”

“Glad to hear it.”

With a wistful sigh, the maker's chest deflates and his eyes blink open and return to your leg, a scowl immediately darkening his chiseled features. “Course, that was the day I learned never to give 'em the opportunity to get close..” As he speaks, you notice a few wisps of blue magic trailing off his fingertips like smoke, which he promptly flicks away with a grunt.

“Yeah, well. Believe me,” you huff, gesturing to the back of your leg, “If I could use magic too, I wouldn't have let it get close enough to do... this.”

“Wait. You can't use magic?”

You shake your head.

“None at all?” he urges.

“Unless you count that one card trick I know, then... Nuh uh.”

“Well, I'll be darned...” His blue eyes sparkle with boundless curiosity and his jaw falls open, ready to start bombarding you with an array of questions, but at that moment, a gasp gets stuck in your throat and your face is warped by a sudden grimace, despite your valiant efforts to hide it, and just like that, the maker's jaw snaps shut.

Finding out who and what you are will have to wait, it seems. Right now, no matter the depths of his intrigue, the most pressing matter is that there's somebody who needs his help. And Stonefather strike him down if he isn't a maker with a damn sense of gallantry. Pressing his lips together, he studies you for a few more seconds before suddenly giving a decisive nod. “Right. I've wasted enough time yapping. Before anything else, we need to get those wounds seen to. I haven't had much practice with healing spells myself,” he admits reluctantly, “But we have a shaman back in the village who's better at them than most.”

Wait... Your heart does a strange little buzz. Did he just say a shaman?

Could he be talking about Muria? You have to admit, you could really do with seeing her calm, familiar face right about now – even if she won't recall you. And besides, if she's here, then... perhaps Eideard might be too. You hardly dare hope.

The maker must have misconstrued your anxious expression for fear, because his fingers close around you a fraction more tightly, no doubt to discourage you from trying to flee. “Now, don't you start fretting,” he says in a rush, “You'll be sticking close to me, I won't let nothing and nobody hurt you, understand?”

His conviction is inarguable and for added measure, he thumps a fist against his broad chest, a clear demonstration of the promise he intends to keep. You find it easy to believe him. Death would probably scold you for being so trusting, but then... Death isn't exactly here.

And besides, for even the smallest chance at seeing Eideard again, you're willing to take a risk in trusting this herculean maker.

Speaking of whom... He's fixed you with what you assume is meant to be a stern frown, but the severity of the line between his brows is superseded by an underlying desperation that bleeds into his voice and his eyes, as though he really doesn't want you to say no.

“Listen, m'not leavin' you out in these woods, not like this... I don't want to have to force you but... I'll not be takin' no for an answer.”

As if he really thinks you'd rather take your chances out here alone than go with him to Tri Stone.

Gritting your teeth through another, sudden wave of prickling heat that shoots up your leg, you heave a dramatic sigh. “Well, I guess if I really don't have any say in the matter...”

“'Fraid not,” the maker replies, drawing solace from the slight tilt of your lips, so much like the smile of a fellow maker.

With a final shrug, you take a step back and gesture to the west. “All right then. Lead the way, I'll follow on behind you.”

All at once, the maker's brows furrow so heavily that his luminous, blue eyes almost disappear beneath them.

“...What?” you ask after a few seconds of being frowned at. Again.

In response, he scoffs in such a way that you feel you must have personally offended him somehow. “You're not walking,” he declares, his hand reaching for you.

Caught off guard, you stammer, “Oh, I – I really don't mind,” retreating backwards until the titanic appendage inevitably catches up with you and he proceeds to wrap his thick, immovable fingers around your body, lifting you effortlessly off your bad leg and into the air.

Once he's holding you however, he seems to falter, his expression evening out as he peers down to where you're dangling, small and injured between his fingertips. The moment doesn't last long though, for he soon shakes his head and states, “If you think I'm letting you walk all the way back to my village on that duff leg, you've got another thing coming.”

“But I-”

“-Ah! No,” he cuts you off sharply, bringing you up to his eye-level as he cups a palm beneath your legs, lowering you onto it with a gentleness that shines right through the facade of his gruff tone, “You keep standing on that leg and you'll only hurt yourself more.”

Frankly, you're too weary to argue with him, and you can't say you mind that you're no longer standing on a leg that feels as if it could buckle out from underneath you at any second. Perhaps you should just be grateful that you're being spared a painful walk. Embarrassed to be so helpless, yet resigned to the fact, you expel a defeated huff and allow him to settle you down into his cupped hand, sliding the other one underneath it to keep you steady in a manner that reminds you of how you might carry a butterfly, mindful that every twitch of your fingers might cause it to get scared and fly away. He remains like for some time, hunched over himself with you caught in the hollow created by his palms and the breeze playing through his golden tresses. It suddenly becomes very difficult to keep your eyes from wandering down to his pronounced collar bones, so it comes as somewhat of a relief when he finally gets to his feet.

With slow, measured steps, he strides through the copse of trees and on towards the trail leading through Baneswood, but rather than lift you up onto his shoulder as you expect him to, he instead lowers you to press you flush against his bare chest.

The breath leaves your lungs in a tiny wheeze.

A veritable blanket of soft, silken chest hair instantly begins to tickle at the your face and you become painfully aware that directly in front of you is a half-naked giant, adorned in nothing but a pair of leather trousers and steel-capped boots, a fact that makes it very difficult for you to concentrate on the question he abruptly poses to you.

“So, what species did you say you were?”

You wonder if he has any idea that you can hear and feel every beat of his powerful heart as it thumps away just above your head. “Huh? What? Oh, uh, I – I'm a human,” you fumble, easing yourself backwards so that a tuft of his chest hair stops fluttering across your bottom lip.

“A... a hoo – man?” he echoes uncertainly, oblivious to the warmth blossoming across your cheeks, “Never heard of 'em.”

That, at least, is enough to distract you from the strangely intimate situation. “Huh? Wait, really?” With a grunt, you manage to stretch your injured leg out across his palm and peer up at the underside of his beard. “You've never heard of humans? Humanity? Er, homo-sapiens?”

The maker simply shakes his head once and replies, “Nope.”

Slowly, you draw in a faltering breath and venture one step further. “...Not even E-Earth?”

The anticipation of seeing him lift his eyes to the treetops in contemplation is unbearable.

Mouth hanging open enough for you to get a glimpse of his tusks, he utters a pensive, “Uuuuh,” and then lowers his gaze once again, lips pressed together into a grim line, “Sorry, haven't the foggiest.”

“I... oh...” You fall silent, peering down at your hands. “Okay.” So... Once again, you may well be the only human in existence.... You aren't sure why that fact turns the hole in your stomach into a bottomless pit - it isn't as though this would be the first time you've existed in a universe without humanity in it, after all.

You're too busy staring blankly at the gold-draped chest in front of you to notice that the maker's mouth is flapping open and closed repeatedly as he tries to find a word that won't cause the frown on your face to turn any deeper. Clearly, he must have said the wrong thing, and now the pretty stranger sitting in his palm is... sad? He guesses you're sad, or something of the like, provided your expressions and emotions match up in the same way that his fellow makers' do. Perhaps he's somehow offended you by claiming to have never heard of your species. 'Fix this,' a small voice at the back of his mind insists whilst he stares down at the crestfallen hunch of your shoulders.

“That being said, I, err...” He tries, glancing to the side when you look up at him expectantly, finding that he's incapable of meeting your gaze whilst you're looking so despondent. “Could just be I've never heard of you. I'm not... precisely what you'd call a worldly maker. Hardly been far out of Tri-Stone, 'cept on a few occasions. And, heh, well. I think I'd remember meeting someone who looked like you.”

“Ha.” Though you offer him a polite smile, your mind only half on the maker's soothing timbre. The other half is busy puzzling over how in the world you're ever going to get back to your own time. Even if you didn't have your fellow humans, you at least had Death and the friends you've made on your journey across the universe. At least there, you were closer to home. Here, separated by countless eons, you can't help but feel more lost than you've ever felt before.

Meanwhile, the maker watches your chest rise and fall with a deep sigh.

Damn. Still a frown. No matter, he can be nothing if not persistent. Not many have been able to resist his charm, and there's still a way to go before he reaches the edge of the Stonefather's Vale. He keeps trying. “You know what? I'm betting our elder will have heard of you.”

“Elder?” Like a flipped switch, you bolt upright in his palm, ignoring the spear of agony that tears at your wounds because you dared to move too quickly.

The maker raises an eyebrow at your sudden exclamation, perplexed by the jarring and unexpected shift in your demeanour. “Uh... Aye?”

Noting his bewildered expression, you make a conscious effort to reel yourself back, but deep down inside, your heart is jumping apprehensively. So far, he's mentioned a shaman and now an elder, and there's only one elder maker you know of.

“Eideard,” you breathe, too softly for him to catch.

Tilting his head to the side, he twitches his ears forwards and asks, “What was that?”

You very nearly open your mouth to say your old friend's name a little louder, but something gives you pause and you slowly let your jaw click shut once again, uncertainty creeping in to settle over your brain. How prudent would it really be to let on that you've technically already met this elder and shaman? Do the rules of time travel apply outside of science fiction novels and theoretical physics? How will the knowledge that you're from a different era affect the flow of time? How will it alter the universe, if it does so at all? What if you change something now that has a drastic effect on the future?

Just trying to make sense of it all is starting to give you a headache, so you decide upon the option that won't raise too many questions that you, quite frankly, don't have the energy to answer right now.

Besides, better to be safe than sorry. Offering the maker a casual shrug, you finally say, “Nothing.”

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

Night has almost entirely fallen by the time you emerge from the gorge that leads from Baneswood into the Stonefather's Vale. It's just dark enough now that you've begun to see tiny pinpricks of stars sweeping across the vast horizon and as your gaze rolls over the valley, you suddenly come to a pause when it lands upon a hill to the north, just poking out above the cliffs that form a hem around the vale. At first, you're puzzled, tilting your head and squinting through the dim light. 'Where is Stonefather's Peak?'

The towering mountain that once cast its shadow across the entire village is... gone? But how? You could have sworn it used to be standing right where that hill is.

“Oh. My. God,” you whisper, letting your mouth drop open as the realisation hits you.

'That hill is Stonefather's Peak!'

“You must be a long way from... wherever home is, eh?”

Tearing your gaze off the distant, juvenile mountain range, you card a hand through your hair and chuckle dryly, “Oh, buddy. You have no idea.”

“Buddy?” he echoes, tipping his head sideways so that his hair falls smoothly over one, bulbous shoulder.

“Buddy? Oh, it means, uh, like a pal, or a friend.”

“Friend?” he asks hopefully as a small smile begins to emerge from underneath his moustache.

Exhaling in amusement, you wave your hand dismissively and sigh, “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

The maker raises his chin high into the air, sporting a proud grin and picking up his gait.

#darksiders #old timer #reader x maker #ha uh oh #Eideard #fluff #whump #oh boy

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captainjimothycarter · 4 years

Note

How about modern Steggy meeting at Pride? Both bi, but that's not why she's there, she's there cause her young child is trans and she's not letting them grow up ashamed of this ("Even if it does turn out to be a temporary questioning 'phase', I won't let them ever be ashamed of being who they are."). Cause like 10 year old Carter child who's a little antsy to be there, Peggy with bi-pride tipped curls, and Steve with the trans flag painted on his cheek

OP YOUR MIND!! They would fiercely protect the Carter Child, not that Steve thinks she can’t do it, but he’s downright feral at times when it comes to kids in danger. This might not be what you had in mind, so I do apologize. This got ahead of me is quite long.

“Ignore them,” Bucky breathed in Steve’s ear, tugging on the blonde’s hand to get him away from the protesters that are somehow legally allowed here. This was borderline abuse if you asked him. Sure, freedom of speech but it was quickly cut off when you yelled at children and elderly people for being themselves.

Steve growled under his breath and tugged his hand away from Bucky’s, careful not to touch the drying trans flag painted across his cheek. Natasha would be furious if he messed up her work. Or touch the chalk-dye of the flag in his hair.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, despite Bucky didn’t look like he’d believed him. The guy stood out like a Christmas tree, literally with the bi flag colors wrapped around the metallic arm and shining bright enough to land a plane. “Just go find Clint, I’m going to walk off. Need to cool down.”

Before the man could say a thing, Steve was stomping off, in midst of the crowd to get away from his rightfully worried, best friend.

The last he expected was when he emerged from the other side of the crowd was to be tackled-hug by a ten-year-old child with bright hazel eyes, a buck-tooth grin, the same colors in his hair dyed on their hair, and wearing a shirt that read, ‘i’m the trans kid your parents warned you about.’

Steve fell to his backside to avoid instinct-wise to protect himself, an arm wrapped around the kid to prevent any of them from being trampled over by the crowds rushing from one stand to another.

“You’re Captain Ameria!” The kid sat upon his chest, still bright-eyed, kneeling rather painfully. “You’re Steve Rogers! I did reports about you.” They were actively bouncing up and down and Steve was doing his best to school the pain the sharp knees caused.

“I am,” he grunted. “Can we keep it to a whisper, son? It’s a secret.” He pressed his finger to his lips to indicate hush, hush until he saw the kid’s eyes widen and go glassy. “Oh no, no. Hey, hey, did I say something wrong?” He sat up and the kid latched on, imitating what Steve imagine what it was like to hug a Khola.

His arms wrapped around the kid and gently held them close, kissing their temple in a show of calming them down. What could he say? He still had parental instinct installed in him from his mother.

He could feel the kid’s sobs against his chest, feel their fingers dig into his shirt, refusing to let go while he tried to calm them down. If anyone noticed Captain America clinging to a sobbing kid, no one stopped to say a thing.

“Michael?! Michael!”

A breathless woman with flushed cheeks, the same brown eyes, and her hair dyed in the bi flag colors scrambles to them. She drops to her knees beside them and slides the last few steps, looking from her child to Steve.

“I-I don’t know -” Steve breathed, a panic looked etched on his face. “They tackled me and I-I fell and-and accidentally said son, a-a force of habit and they started crying. Did I say the wrong thing?”

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition as to who Steve was before her face softened, tenderly laying a hand on the back of Michael’s hair and stroking it out of the way. “No,” she breathed. “No, you said the right thing. The perfect thing for them to hear. They ideologize you and always have. I guess seeing you here is...well, overwhelming. Michael, love, we got to let the Captain go.”

Slowly peeling away from him, the kid sniffles and rubs at their face, smearing the flag’s paint without realizing it. His face is flushed and eyes red, with tears still in them. He looks almost ashamed as he climbs from Steve’s lap to his mom’s. He could hear the murmurs of an apology.

“Hey now,” Steve breathed, fully sitting up now. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” He can’t help himself in tossing the guy’s hair and wiping away a stray tear. It makes the kid smile, at least. “You were just excited and overwhelmed, there’s a big crowd here today, huh? And I guess...me calling you son didn’t help did it? Just burst that bubble.” When the kid flushed, Steve just gave a helpless smile. “When my ma first called me Steve, I cried so hard I managed to throw myself into a panic attack.”

“I bet that did nothing to help the asthma,” the mother muses, giving Steve a fond smile. At Steve’s surprised look, she shrugs. “I might be a Brit, but I grew up on your story, Mr. Rogers. I’m Peggy, by the way. This is Michael.”

Steve shakes their hand and nods. “No, it didn’t. Managed to give myself a nose bleed too. It’s good to meet you two. Here, let’s get up before we’re trampled.” Getting the pair off of the ground, Steve brushes the grass stains off of their clothes out of habit. “I take it it’s your first pride?”

“For both of us,” Peggy muses, kissing her embarrassed son’s cheek. “Michael wanted to go to his first pride since coming out and I wasn’t going to tell him no. We’ve already been yelled at by them.” The tone alone tells Steve well enough who them is.

“Tell me about it. I’ve already gotten into two screaming matches before my friends had to drag me away.”

“That was you? Crickey, no wonder people looked nervous. Well, yes they’ve called me quite a few names already. Child abuser. Pedophile. Rapist. Disgusting, barbaric group.” She sets Michael down and hugs him close to her frame. “Even if this is a phase, I don’t care. I’m going to support and love my child regardless. They do not deserve to be ashamed of themselves.”

Steve’s eyes fall to Michael whose still staring up at him like he’s the moon and stars and it makes him both antsy and warms his heart. “I wish I had that line of thinking,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Not that I’m ashamed of who I am, anyone with the right knowledge can research about me, history can’t erase that forever, but...the backlash one could’ve received in my time...it leaves a mark on you.”

It was a struggle in his mentality. Steve supported, openly every LGBT organization, spoke out against protestors, and haters. Donated large, marginal amounts of money, but when it came to speaking about his struggle and making an ‘official’ public remark? That’s when he backed out.

“But Mr - Captain…” Michael sputtered, tugging on Steve’s shirt.

“Steve.”

“S-Steve.” He was still breathy from the crying spell but his excitement to get to call his obvious hero by his name was etched into his face. “There are lots and lots and lots of people who would be happy to know that you’re like us too! You might get people mad at you but then they weren’t fans of you in the first place if they don’t support your decision. I know lots of my friends would know and be happy to know that you’re a-a-a trans guy like me!”

Well, what in the hell could he say to that? He looked from the smart kid up to his mother who just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “He’s right, you know?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I do. I think you’re right, Michael, I shouldn’t hide who I am. Been asleep far too long and I think I got work to do to fix this mess.” He paused for a moment, reaching into his jeans to hand Peggy a business card [Tony’s idea] with a hologram of himself in his uniform and saluting, his name and personal number on the back.

“Call me tonight? I want to talk to you about this. I have to go.”

His eyes flew to something past the pair and Peggy’s neck craned to see over the crowd, clicking her tongue as she spotted what Steve had seen.

If it was just her, she’d help, but Michael was here and perhaps didn’t need to see his hero fighting a bunch of bigots. He was still quite sensitive to violence, the poor thing.

“Okay,” she agreed, scooping her son up and tucking his head into her neck. “You go do that.” She paused to kiss his cheek. “And be safe, please.”

That’s how, two days later, Steve finds himself standing in the very park Pride had taken place, on the portable stage with his team behind him. He still sported a black eye, almost healed but the remains of a yellow bruise were still there. His ribs ached from being kicked, but he was still standing. It was on the news for days how Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and Clint Barton ruthlessly attacked a bunch of peaceful protesters.

Peaceful, my ass.

They didn’t see the symbols they carried, the signs, the proud man who stood in front of them? Steve wasn’t standing in 2013 anymore, he was in 1943 and standing before a german officer, wearing the same grin on his face. He knew his choices, the power of his voice, and money, and knew them well. He also knew what the other side of Steve’s fist felt like against his jaw.

“They were Nazis,” he tells Tony over dinner, rolling his eyes. Peggy’s on speaker between them, having just gotten done lecturing him. “I don’t give two shits what the media says.”

“Language,” Peggy muses, though Steve can hear the smile in her voice. “I have a son.”

“Whose asleep,” Tony interjects. “Cursing is allowed when the kidlets are asleep.”

“Says you.”

Steve rolls his eyes at them and downs the rest of his beer. “Pepper is gonna smooth it out, anyhow. I’m not making some public statements on how sorry I am ‘cause I ain’t. Don’t show up to an event and not expect a backlash. They’re lucky that’s all we did was break a few bones. Maybe it’ll teach ‘em next time. Besides, they attacked us. We gave them clear enough warning not to touch us.”

They had formed a barricade, protect those Pride Idiots from charging inside while the cops did nothing. Even Tony had to call in a few suits and help, Pepper immediately on the scene with her trusted news crew.

“I ain’t worried about it,” He continues, shrugging.

“Spoken like a true American,” Peggy teases, making Steve flush. “So have you given any thought to our earlier conversation?”

Tony’s staring at him from across the way, Steve’s started to nervously play with the end of his binder. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah, I have. I’ll call you with the details.”

Taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves, Steve’s eyes scan the crowd. He knows there are a few of those Pride Boys out there, but he can’t make them out. He doesn’t care to. They wouldn’t dare to attack a stage when Captain America stands in full uniform and his team behind him. Pepper had brought out her news crew again, live broadcasting this emergency meeting, as well as a few other news sources.

She’s smiling at him from the side, giving him the thumbs up.

Steve’s eyes fall to Bucky whose gotten up with Clint and stood beside him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “About time you’re doing this, though you owe Dugan 50 quid for this,” Bucky teases, leaning up to just barely kiss Steve’s cheek in a public display of affection. “I’m proud of you.”

Clint’s beside them, towering over Bucky, holding the life out of Bucky’s flesh hand and pulling him close. His head tilts to the side and signs to Steve, asking if he’s ready.

Steve nods, his eyes finally falling to the two people who got this started. Peggy Carter and her son. Michael runs up to him from the side of the stage when they arrive, climbing onto Steve’s shoulders like he’s always belonged there. Steve can’t help the laugh he lets out as he grips Michael’s legs around his chest to keep him secure. Peggy, for her own sake, smiles as she stands beside Steve, Bucky moving over to let her get closer.

“Alright,” He sighs into the microphone, perhaps too close. “Let’s get this over with.” He pauses, counts his heartbeats, feeling them in his throat. “It goes without saying, who I am and whose in my company, but I think we need to make some personal facts clear in the light of recent news.”

He stills and takes in a sharp breath, eyes scanning the vast crowd before he feels Peggy’s hand on the small of her back.

“My name is Steve Rogers and I am a transgender guy.” There’s a mixture of stilled silence and gasp throughout the crowd, followed by intense murmurs. Yet no one raises their hand or shouts questions. Pepper has these guys whipped. Good.

“That might come as a surprise to some of you and regardless of your personal opinion, I do not care. Let me restate that, I do not care if you support me or don’t. I want one fact and one fact made clear, if you decide to attack me, my friends, or anyone for being who in the hell they are, no amount of legal fear and paperwork will stop me from doing what I think is right to rectify that situation.”

“I was thankful to have heavy support during my time serving, before, and after, and even waking up here. It was recently brought to my attention as to what me coming out officially could do for the young LGBT youth and I am only sorry it’s taken this long for me to realize it.”

“To be fair,” Peggy muses. “You’ve been a little busy.”

Steve laughs, unable to help himself. “A tad bit.” He squeezes her to his side and presses a small kiss to her temple. “Now,” he speaks into the microphone. “If anyone else is curious, I’m bisexual too. And in this recent news, my team and I have gotten together to design a program to help the LGBT youth seek the sanctuary they deserve. This means after school programs for all ages, cafes, safe bars, book stores, all opened 24/7 to offer them help. There are homeless shelters in place that will help the youth kicked out, programs we’re establishing to help with anything from name changes to hormones, to funds to get back on their feet. Counseling as well for any who wish to seek it. Adoptive parents who figuratively would want to ‘adopt’ and assist the youth.”

“Who’s paying for all this?! It sounds like -”

The reporter, someone in the midst of the crowd, that Steve can’t see is instantly shut up when Clint charges off the stage and heads in his direction and pulls the man up to his feet by the collar of his neck.

“Who in the hell do you think is?” He snaps. “I wish these programs were around when I was a kid, then maybe I wouldn’t had destroyed my body using makeshift binders that hurt me. These kids, adults, whatever will get the help they need. If you have a problem with it, then I suggest you shut the hell up.”

“Thanks, Clint,” Steve breathes, jerking his head at Bucky to go get his boyfriend. “In a better sense of words, I am. Now, any questions?”

There’s a hell of a lot of questions that go over Steve’s head.

When did your name change? What’s in your pants? Did you have surgery? Did you have bottom surgery? Is that kid yours? Are they paying you to say this?

There’s plenty of statements too, raging from support but more often protest and the second it gets rowdy, it’s put to a stop when Natasha and Tony are strolling around the crowd.

Bucky and Michael are right - this is a long time coming. The youth, the people of today deserved to know who Steve truly was. Not that he’s ever denied himself. They deserve to know that he would do anything to protect them, even if it involves a few legal cases of punching a Nazi here or there.

Michael was certainly right, the youth of today deserved to know who had their back, and how proud he was to come home one day and run straight into Steve’s arms while his mum was at work, to tell him how he stood up to his bully and made sure the substitute teacher called him by his real name and how he got to tell them that his new dad was Captain America.

#Steggy #Steggy Prompt #Nonny Prompt #Bisexual Peggy Carter #Bisexual Steve Rogers #Bisexual Bucky Barnes #Transguy Clint #Transguy Steve Rogers #Peggy's lil kid is trans too #tw transphobia #tw slurs #I hope this doesn't offend anyone somehow #despite being trans i tried to write this carefully too

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feistypaants-archived · 4 years

Text

Between The Pipes [Chapter 1]

Rating: M Words: 1701 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together... how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: Hmmm a start? I don’t have much of this written so we’ll see if it’s just another AU i abandon :^) I’m so sorry I’m trash at fic writing lmao.

Enjoy!

In.

Out.

“And Dapozza gets the puck, racing from the blue line …”

In.

Out.

“He passes to Reiman, who slaps it to Collins …”

In.

.. In.

…

“They’re fast approaching the Ice Breakers goal, the puck goes to Westergaard, he shoots …”

Breathe, god damn it!

Kristoff reacts too slowly, the puck skimming his glove as it whistles past his ear and slams into the back of the net. The goal horn sounds in this foreign arena, and the fans surrounding him break out into cheers.

“He scores! Westergaard takes the lead with almost an impossible chance for the ice breakers to recover!”

With nine seconds left, he lost his team the game. With nine seconds left, he let the opposition get ahead. Nine seconds. Even with Sven’s quick feet and pulling him for an extra skater, there was no way they were making it back up.

He lost them the game, lost them the conference, lost them the whole damn cup.

As he slammed his stick into the goalpost, snapping it in half, he realized he might have lost his temper, too.

That’ll look good to the new owners.

—

“You all fought hard, and I’m proud of you,” Coach Mattias hollered, his voice echoing off of the cubbies. “We climbed our way up from the bottom. We didn’t even make the playoffs last season.” He snapped his fingers and pointed around the room. “You all make me remember why I started coaching. Always trying your best, even when the going gets tough.”

Kristoff dropped his head between his shoulders, sighing as he peeled off another layer of equipment. He had been slacking this season. Mattias was just too nice to point it out.

“We’ll get ‘em next year. For now, go home. Rest up. Enjoy your time off. When we get back, we’ll be going harder than ever.” Coach clapped his hands together before nodding and leaving the team to grieve their tough loss.

Few words were exchanged as the men gathered their belongings, knowing later this week they’d have to do it again at home. Kristoff sat patiently, letting some of the frustration drain from his shoulders before he continued stripping down and changing into his civvies.

After about ten minutes of his silence, Sven sat beside him and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Y’know it’s not your fault, right?”

Kristoff only grunted in reply.

“Seriously, man.” Sven dropped his palm to the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I know it feels like it, but we all played kinda crap tonight. No one blames you.”

“Should have trained harder.” Kristoff wiped a palm down his face before reaching down to unbuckle his pads. “I shouldn’t have fucked off for two weeks —“

“Dude.” Sven’s fist punched into his arm with no holds barred, and Kristoff was kind of glad he still had on some padding. “Your dad was sick. No one thinks you fucked off.”

Taking a deep breath before dropping his pads to the ground, Kristoff finally lifted his gaze to meet his friends’.

“What if they trade me.”

“They won’t.”

“But what if they do.”

Sven was silent for a moment, fingers tapping impatiently against the wood. “Then,” he started, laughter twinkling in his eyes. “Then we get to be star-crossed best friends, longing for the day we can be together again,” he threw a hand up, laying the backside of it gently across his forehead as his dark curls bounced against his skin. “Plotting how to make the owners rue the day they separated us!”

Kristoff shoved him off the bench as he laughed, the knot in his chest easing slightly with every chuckle. “Shut the fuck up.”

Sven smirked up at him from the floor, flipping over as nimbly as he could to right himself again. “They won’t trade you, man. I promise.”

With a sigh, he nodded and pushed a hand through his hair. “All right.”

“Now get dressed, dickhead. We’re going to drink the pain away!”

—

The off time was exactly what Kristoff had needed.

He flew his family in for a few weeks, spent some much needed time in the woods, and thankfully, did not get traded. It had been weighing on him for most of the summer, but it appeared that his impressive record was enough for the new owners to look past his shitty, playoff ending, final game of the season.

Him and Sven spent at least a little bit of time on the ice every day, and he was glad for it. There was nothing more freeing than skating, and nothing more thrilling than saving a beautiful shot on goal. Plus, he had been doing this since he was four, and Kristoff really missed it when he went too long away from the rink.

But with practices starting back up, it was finally time to meet the new team owners.

And Sven may have convinced him to go a little harder than should have been allowed last night. A last hurrah, he had said. Boy oh boy was Kristoff regretting letting that persuade him.

Armed with sunglasses, too many Red Bulls, and the sheer will of all men who lived before him, Kristoff slumped to the rink at a bright, but thankfully not too bright, seven am. He hadn’t realized how familiar he was with the back halls of the rink until he maneuvered through them with his eyes half closed, yawning wide, and grateful for these last few minutes of some sort of shut eye.

“Excuse me?”

A chipper voice broke through his silence, and Kristoff felt his whole body vibrate with a groan.

“Excuse me! I’m sorry, ah,” she stopped quickly when he turned to face her, venom etched into his features. “Oh. You look —“

“Can I help you?”

Her eyebrows lifted up to hide under her bangs, and Kristoff tried to ignore the slight flush that spread over her cheeks. So she was embarrassed. Probably here for one of the players. Why was she here so early? Weren’t these girls more suited for one am calls?

“Oh, yeah, um, I’ve just never been here before? I think I’m lost…”

He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head as she stammered away, growing increasingly frustrated with her rambling.

“Locker room is for the team, staff, and media only.”

“Oh, I know, I —“

“So, call whoever it is you’re trying to meet and tell them you’ll be outside.”

Kristoff ran his eyes up and down the girl before him, appreciating the pull some of the guys on this team had. Some puck bunnies didn’t have much to write home about. At least this one was cute.

He missed the flash of annoyance in her eyes, but looked back to her face as she sighed, stood straighter, and a smile pulled at her lips.

“Oh, wow, thank you like, so, so much?” There was a new inflection to her voice that his hungover ass couldn’t even try to decipher, and he shrugged his bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ll just…. give them a call, then. Thanks a lot!”

She turned, shoulders tense, and Kristoff shrugged her off. It wasn’t the first time a girl found her way down here. He was certain it wouldn’t be the last.

Checking his watch, Kristoff realized there was still a good half an hour before he was required to be in the locker room. Maybe a quick stop for a power nap wouldn’t hurt.

—

Twenty-six minutes later, Kristoff rolled into the locker room, throwing his bag into his cubby, and fell down on the bench beside Sven hard.

“Hey, man. You good?” Sven laughed and pulled the sunglasses off of his face. “Oooh,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Nope. You look like death.”

Kristoff groaned and shoved a hand against his friends’ shoulder. “I have no idea how you’re okay right now.” He rolled his head back, stretching his neck and sighed. “I’m never going out with you again.”

Sven shrugged, his whole head bobbing again. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Kristoff stayed there, eyes shut, ignoring the other players’ sitting around him until he heard someone behind him let out a low whistle.

“Whose red-head is that?” Cooper whispered, looking back and forth as Kristoff’s eyes shot open. “And if she’s no one’s, I’m down to claim that.”

He snapped up, eyes scanning the room until he saw familiar curls talking to the coach in the corner, a clipboard clasped in her hands as she fingered through some paperwork. Sweat started beading on his back as she looked up, as if she felt eyes burning a hole in her, and when their eyes met he swore a shit-eating grin spread across her mouth.

Fuck.

“She’s…” Kristoff started, pulling his eyes away from her to look at Sven. “She’s media, right?”

Sven shrugged, frowning. “Dunno, why?”

“I…”

Coach Mattias coughed loudly, stepping up to the front of the room. “All right boys, listen up.” He clapped his hands until they all looked at him before continuing. “Thank you all for being here bright and early. I know we’re not in full swing yet, so I appreciate it.”

Kristoff swallowed thickly as she stood up straighter, as if waiting to be…

“Mr Arne, the new owner, unfortunately could not join us today….”

He let out an almost audible sigh of relief.

Until…

“But his lovely daughter is here in his place. Miss Arne?” Mattias gestured for her to come closer with a smile.

Oh fuck.

She stepped onto the platform with a laugh, swatting lightly at Mattias. “Just Anna is fine, coach.”

Kristoff was trying to stop the panic he could already feel coursing through his veins. Would she hold this against him? Would she punish him for this?

“It’s so good to be here, really,” she started, pushing some loose curls back over her shoulder as the team gave her a small round of applause. “I can’t wait to meet all of you —“ her eyes flicked to Kristoff, as if making a decision, before she blinked it away and continued. “I’m sure we’re going to have a really great partnership here!”

Fuuuuuck.

#kristanna fanfic #kristanna #btpfic #feistypantswrites #its the hockey au #lets hope i dont abandon this one too bc i fucking suck lmao #sry

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what-the--curtains · 4 years

Text

Braving the Elements

Chapter 10: Night out

Tw: drinking, underage drinking, swearing

Authors notes: YALL GET 2 today

(Playing when you enter the club)

(Playing when you dance with Bucky)

Tony had given you all a week off to train while he worked on locating Romans houses. After the third day of intense training you were all starting to look drained and were becoming increasingly irritated with each other.

“THAT’S IT! We need a night off or I’m gonna lose it!” you yell from the gym floor where you had been lying out of breath for the past 5 minutes. “This is non-negotiable! Wanda you always wanted to come along when I’d sneak out to college parties now’s the time!”

“Well obviously I’m in.” Nat says which had Steve agreeing quickly ,

“Don’t have to tell me twice” Sam says. Bucky nods in agreement saying he was feeling pent up (whatever that meant). You finally got Wanda to agree which led to Vision joining as well. Peter and Shuri had whined so much that you ended up saying you could get them in much to Steve's dismay

“Oh come on captain no fun let loose!” Nat says slapping a hand on his back

“Fine, but they CANNOT drink” he says

“Gee thanks guys! Cool if I invite MJ and Ned as well?”

“Ya, sure, no problem.” You respond

You Nat and Wanda were all getting ready together. Doing your hair and makeup, and gossiping before going out was slowly becoming a tradition of yours.Nat’s wearing a corseted dress with a leather jacket and thigh high black boots. Wanda’s put on a sheer black t-shirt over a black lace bra pairing it with high waisted red jeans. She's topped it off with a white, faux-fur cropped jacket and red heels. You settled on a halter v-neck bodysuit, light blue jean shorts and fishnets with white knee high, healed boots and a tasseled tan jacket. You were all ready earlier than everyone else so you could get the younger ones in. You meet up with them at the front of the club at around 10:30PM.

“Hey kiddies” you say waving to Peter and his friends.

The owner appears at the door exclaiming “(Y/N) darling! you’re back! What hole did you crawl out of looking like hell on wheels?” before embracing you.

“So you know him?” Nat asks

“Ya, how else do you think I’m sneaking a bunch of teenagers in?” you say, ushering everyone inside.

“Just remember, no drinking.” Nat says sternly to the group of teens, who all nod in agreement.

“If you do it when we can’t see, it doesn’t count” you whisper to Shuri and she smiles

“This is so sick” MJ pipes up as the owner shape shifts into a new form.

“Cool!” Ned , Peter and Shuri say in unison, before heading off to take in the atmosphere of the club.

Wanda smirks “Mutant club?” she asks

“Mutant club.” you respond

“Alright! First rounds on the house for you and your lovely friends” the owner says.

The boys showed up about an hour later which was more than enough time for all three of you to get tipsy. When they enter your eyes are once again immediately drawn to Bucky. He’s pulled his hair back into a loose bun and is wearing a black t-shirt that was just loose enough to conceal what you knew to be a chiseled torso. He'd paired it with dark jeans that he filled out very nicely in the back leading you to wonder if the same was true for the front.

“This place is SICK” Sam yells over the noise

“I know right!” you yell back “Finally back with my people!” you gesture to the crowd before offering him and Steve a shot. You all find your way to a booth near the back and continue to talk with people going out to dance intermediately. On your way back from the bathroom you bump into an old friend of yours.

“Jean!” you shout over the music

“Y/N?” she yells back

“Holy shit! I can’t believe you’re here!” you say embracing her

“Ya, we just finished up a mission in the city, figured we’d come and celebrate!” she responds

“What are you up to these days?”

“Well I’ve recently joined the Avengers.”

Jean laughs before realising you're serious, “Oh my god you went full on good guy? About time!”

You both laugh “Come join us!“ you say and Jean nods before going to grab the rest of your old school friends.

“Wanda!” You yell sitting down next to her “Jeans here!”

“No way! Class reunion!” she shouts downing the last of her drink and slamming her glass down on the table. Sam leans in and asks if any of your old friends are hot causing you to laugh before pushing him away from you.

Jean comes back with Scott, Rogue, Gambit, Alex, and Storm

“(y/n)” Alex draws out your name slowly with fake disbelief “Alex Summers.” you say pointing at him then patting the spot next to you.

“How the hells it going?” he asks, sitting down and giving you his award winning smile

“Oh you know me staying saved doing god's mission” you reply dryly, causing him to laugh

“ Well you really must have changed since.. “ he starts before you punch him in the arm, laughing.

Bucky sees Alex whisper something in your ear that makes you throw your head back in laughter. His jaw clenches. He didn’t know why he was so upset by the thought of someone else making you laugh, but he was. Maybe he should just move on. Move on from what? he thinks we aren’t even anything.

Sam leans over to you and says “You seen Nat and Steve? they’ve been dancing all night and not in a very all American way.”

“ Do you think they’re gonna fuck?” you say louder than you wanted to quickly covering your mouth.

“ You always had a way with words even at school” Alex laughs as Peter comes up to tell you that they're going to head out.

“Hey Storm! You should meet my friend Sam!” you say before continuing on the conversation with the x-men. You find out that Jean and Scott are still going as strong as ever, Rogue and Gambit have (finally) gotten married and Alex has settled down and is currently seeing someone.

After another half-hour or so the x-men decide to get going with Storm taking a very happy Sam with her. “Hey be gentle with him, you call after her!” Steve slaps his hand down on the table, declaring that more drinks were needed.

“C’mon Buck let’s get em.” he says, pulling his friend up as Wanda and Vision get up to go dance.

“Soooooo.” You slur swinging your head towards Nat “You and Mr. America?” you inquire wiggling your eyebrows

“Oh shut it, ya I like him and he’s got a great body so I am definitely shooting my shot tonight.” she says with a grin

“Well, no one could resist you in that get up!” you say fanning yourself

“How about you? That Alex guy was pretty hot.”

“Ya he is we used to date back at school, but he’s got a partner now so guess I’m shit outta luck!” you pout.

“C’mon there’s got to be someone here for you. How about Buck? He seems like he’d be a good time and based on the number of women I’ve seen leaving his room he’s experienced!”

“You know I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing those eyes looking up from between my thighs.” you say dreamily causing Nat to raise her eyebrows. The conversation ends when the two boys return with several shots which you all polish off. Nat pulls Steve up to go dance, leaving you and Bucky alone together. You scoot closer to him so you can hear him better, stopping when your thigh presses up against his.

“So I hear you,” you say, pausing to tap him on the tip of his nose, a gesture which he found extremely endearing “use to be a swell dancer.”

“Ya, not to this modern stuff though, but this," he says as the song changes to something with a bit more swing, "this I can dance to". Grabbing you by the hand he pulls you onto the dance floor. Lining up his hand with yours and placing his metal hand on your side pulling you closer to him.

“ So you and that Alex guy, you used to go out or something?” Bucky asks, not so subtly, as he twirls you so you're no longer facing him, wrapping his arms around you tightly and swaying you back and forth. You laugh “I guess you could call it that but he’s with someone now, so too bad for me!” Bucky feels a sense of relief, although a pang of jealousy does hit him upon realizing that you had been thinking about someone else throughout the night. He spins you out and pulls you back to face him.

“Steve was right, you are good at this'' you say, gazing up at him. He lets his hand drop slightly below your waist perching it on the curvature of your backside, smiling when you don’t make him move it. As the song ends he dips you and brings you back into him. You’re now just inches away from each other, both of you breathing heavily. Then out the corner of your eye you see Wanda and Vision making out. You push yourself off of his chest and cheer to no one before turning him around to see the scene. Laughing softly and feeling less dejected by the fact you had pushed yourself away from him he says “On that note, I think it’s time for me to head out.”

“Wait!” You shout “I’m coming with you!” You snatch up your purse and pull on your jacket before following him towards the exit.

“Leaving so soon?” the owner asks slightly disappointed

“Oh come on don’t cry I'll be back!” you say hugging him and planting a small kiss on his cheek. Bucky looks away when you do this not wanting to see your lips on another person. You quickly walk back to him and he offers you his arm causing you to look up at him and smile. The look on your face makes his heart skip a beat

#bucky x oc #bucky x reader #bucky x you #avengers fanfiction #braving the elements #bucky barnes slow burn #bucky barnes #Spotify

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chrsitophwaltz · 5 years

Text

MICKEY MEETS FC BAYERN (PART 4/4)

for the entire houston clownery experience click here

psa: if you’ve read the last 3 parts, then you know the drill. i just wanna add that i don’t know how coherent this is bc writing it drained me already. i typed it straight from my garbage brain so this is obviously NOT SAFE FOR WORK. if you’re brave or thirsty enough, or have holy water at the ready, then by all means please proceed.

*matthew mcconaughey voice* alright alright alright

we’ve reached the end, folks! it’s taken me longer than i thought to put this part out. mainly because my brain still can’t comprehend that this actually happened. y’all know that feeling where something happened and you just floated right through it then a few hours later when you’re all alone it hits and destroys you like a fucking trainwreck?

yeah, that’s what it’s been like.

so to recap:

friday: the team arrived. i was positioned nicely near the bus exit and my mind, body, and soul had been buzzing and ready for that moment. i had it all well-rehearsed too: niko steps out, i scream like a banshee for his name, he comes over-- with soft hair and glorious stubble and all-- to sign my shirt and take a gazillion pics. oh, and of course i try not to faint or drool all over him. it was almost fullproof. the problem? he never stepped out. he and thiago went straight to the airport for a press conference and were never in the team bus. i was ready to unleash death right then and there.

but oh well. all hope isn’t lost. i’m gonna be five rows behind the bayern bench the next day during the game anyway. got the tickets within an hour or so after sales opened. i can thirst to my heart’s content over him and his beautiful backside for two hours. and i had this huge ass sign ready, asking for his bottle. it’s bigger and brighter than my life. he CANNOT possibly miss that, right?

saturday: game day! i’ve been buzzing the entire morning and early afternoon. today’s the day! my first time inside a football (american) stadium too. and i was kinda nervous about my sign’s debut too. what if he does see it and give me his bottle? what would i do? do i manage to keep cool or do i smash it right into my eye socket in front of him? until now i still don’t know

so we go down to the stadium. my sign was getting some attention too. people, bayern fans and madridies alike, stopped me and asked what it meant (i had to sheepishly explain to random people that yes, i am indeed asking for his bottle, and no, y’all don’t wanna know why). some guy even got it on his video camera but idk what he did with it sjdfdjkfdjkfsfs

i got settled into my seat and h o l y s h i t i was so close to the pitch and the bench! all the drama? i got it! all the shirt-changing action? i got em too! and all the angry niko antics??? best believe they’re seared into my mind forever and ever!!!!

(dare i say, with full risk of sounding like a downright whore, the man’s got real juicy buns in the back oven. like, fuck me!!!! he’s fit as fucking fuck!!!!!!!! he also loves to whistle and scream instructions and mouth off to hansi on the bench. oh, and to randomly thrust his hips like nobody’s fuckin business!!!!!!!!)

(srsly niko, why do that???? GET OFF MY DAMN NECK!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!! my 17-year old sister was beside me and i had to be 110% a responsible, sane adult!!!!!!! even the guy sitting behind us eventually caught on to my thirst since he saw me filming niko the whole duration of the game sddbsjfdjfnsm)

anyway, niko LOVES to hydrate and he probably finished around 4-5 bottles of water. at one point he looked over at where i was and i’m sure as h e l l he saw my sign (it was a huge ass board). but guess what? it’s like he knew just how desperate i was and kept on sexily chugging. god fucking dammit, niko!!!!

y’all know what happened to all those bottles? NOTHING! they’re just piled up on the bench never to be used again. i was right there, niko! A CRUMB! just one fuckin crumb was all i asked for!!!!!!!!!!!! he could’ve thrown that bottle straight at my fuckin face and i would’ve THANKED him

the game ended, we won, and NO BOTTLE. a bitch was sad!!! a bitch was going STIR CRAZY!!!!! the team only had one day left before they left for kansas city. i’ve been trying to get info on how to get into the practice session so i can see him and all the boys. but of course! the training session might as well be in secret because it’s invite-only!!! even the paulaner bbq event was closed. the only events that were open were the mall meet-and-greets. but those wouldn’t have niko or the rest of the boys in them.

please bear in mind again that i decided to shell out extra just to make that one day extension happen.

i had to see the entire team. i needed to experience niko up close. if i don’t get to do this now, then god knows when i’ll get the chance to do so again.

so, driven by desperation, i made a totally uninformed decision to go to the hotel at some random time the next day. ultimately, it was either the hotel or the carl lewis track. i figured the hotel would be a safer bet since i’d been there before and it was closer to the mall where the meet-and-greets would be (just in case the worst happened and i failed to catch them before they left for practice or wherever).

hotel or track? hotel.

what time? probably 8:30.

did i know what i was doing? absolutely fucking not.

but hey, couldn’t hurt, right? it was bonkers. truly bananas. but what choice did i have? in the end, i just wanted to be able to tell myself that i tried.

sunday:

i’ve been thinking about what to call this part. here’s some of what comes to mind:

1. crazy binch follows crazy idea and it works? it’s more likely than you think!

2. if you like it (i LOVED it) then you should’ve put a ring on it (I MCFUCKIN DID!!!!! in my head at least sksdjfksdfsdfh)

3. the day kathleen krüger probably wanted my head on a spike (and i don’t blame her)!

so the events from parts 1 and 2 happened. saw and greeted kathleen krüger in decent german. it was going pretty well. somewhere in there, during the sven/leon mishap, it finally happened. the moment that i’ve been waiting for. perfection!

*record scratch* eh, not really.

look, i’m 5′3 (and 1/2, i’m gonna insist on that). leon is 6′2. sven is about 6′3 or 6′4? anyway, y’all get it. they’re tall af.

and niko? a very sexy 5′9.

so in the haze of mortification and embarrassment brought about by the sven/leon mishap, i completely missed niko going out of the hotel. the binch literally had to be positioned in between sven and leon and all the other tall german people milling around the hotel. my ass had been on alert for him nearly the entire week (and let’s be real, for months) and when the moment finally presented itself, it completely flew over my head. i nearly ruined my own damn plan.

thankfully though, i’d been chatting with the bayern staff earlier and they knew that i’d been waiting this whole time to meet niko. i wondered out loud, “ugh, when is niko gonna show up he’s usually one of the earlier ones” and the guy in the red audi fcb tour polo shirt frowned and said “what? he literally just went out. didn’t you see him?”

my world literally stopped. i wanted to slap myself. my ears were ringing.

niko, already out? how could i have missed him? had he already gone up the bus???

i literally did a 360 so fast i gave myself whiplash and saw through the glass doors the man i’d been waiting forever for. he was clad in his blue coach kit of shirt and shorts. i could also swear he was glowing like an angel (probably bc of the bright sun or the product of my thirst-addled brain, idk).

there was another problem, though: he wasn’t stopping. he was going straight for the bus. and his leggies were f a s t.

and where was i? still frozen in shock inside the freaking hotel!!!!

i’m not the fastest person in the world but man, adrenaline really does work wonders! thank goodness my brain chose that moment to regain its function and spurred my body into motion. with no fucks left to give, i ran full tilt through the throng of people leisurely heading out, past the security guards who looked at me like i was insane (i was), out of the hotel and into the courtyard where there were about 50 or so fans behind the barriers who had gathered to catch a glimpse of the team.

it was like everything was in slow-mo. there was kathleen, patiently standing near the bus door and taking inventory of the players and staff before they leave. and there was niko, with literally one foot lifted to go up the first step into the bus.

my brain did a quick calculation. even with adrenaline, he’d already be up and inside the bus by the time i get to where he was. they may have let me inside the hotel, but i knew the bus was off limits. i had to stop him before he’s out of reach. and i knew that if i missed him, then that would be the absolute last time i’d see him in houston. that was my last chance.

i already had one foot dipped into the proverbial pool of shame. i was vaguely aware that i had the hotel staff stationed near the door and some fans looking at me bc of my marathon sprint antic. why not just take the full plunge, right?

so i did the only thing i could do to stop him: i screamed for him. throat open, full diaphragm, lungs out screamed: “NIKO! NIKO PLEASE!” my voice and the desperation that it was absolutely dripping with echoed within the walls of the hotel entrance.

i don’t even know the others’ reaction to that anymore, and i don’t really wanna know. all i know was that it worked! he stopped and turned around to look. and god was he. so. beautiful!!!

overjoyed that he paused, i ran straight towards him. there was a body in front of me that i barely dodged in my haste and i belatedly realized it was the team photographer taking shots of the departure. i nearly bowled him over and destroyed his expensive camera but thankfully i somehow managed to do a the matrix-esque maneuver and ducked under his arms and up again straight back to niko. the look on my face must’ve been shocking and horrific (i bet) because as i zoomed in on niko, i saw poor kathleen just behind him, still near the bus door, go tense with her eyes as big as saucers.

look, i understand. if i were the team manager of a popular football team, and some woman was running straight for one of my charges, with A Certain Look on her face, and with the bus door wide open, i’d be worried af. she probably thought i was gonna attack niko (somewhat true, but not in the way she thought...or was it?) and/or infiltrate the team bus. my intentions were pure (ish), of course, but my face didn’t reflect that.

the Queen knew martial arts and could’ve karate-kicked me off the face of the earth and away from niko, but she didn’t. so thank you, kathleen. and i apologize.

safe from kathleen’s wrath (for now), i turned my full attention to niko. i was finally in front of him!!!!! my dream had finally come true!!!!!!!!!!!

my brain and my soul were trying to leave my body and i wasn’t really 100% percent in the moment, but even with the little presence of mind i had left it was too much to bear. niko looked a bit perplexed, like i might attack him or something (with the way i looked, ran, and shouted like an animal i totally get it), but still managed to look relaxed, open, and friendly. he looked at me expectantly and i felt my mouth move to ask for an autograph and my hands give him my cardboarded jersey and sharpie. i wasn’t in control of my body anymore but thank god it knew exactly what i wanted.

niko, a true angel sent down from the heavens above, gracefully took my shirt and sharpie. i’m pretty sure my mouth was wide open and probably had some drool hanging off, and i could feel kathleen’s stare boring holes into the side of my head. as he was signing it, my last few brain cells were roasting.

his hair was soft and ungelled, and was damp (he looked like he recently just came out of the shower) and as his head was bent down, That Stray Lock of Hair flopped into his forehead. it nearly made me pass tf out!!! the sun was also shining brightly and his stubble was already silvery (thanks to bayern’s season of clownery!) so when the light caught it, it literally shone. each strand was literally p e r f e c t i o n. perfect length, perfect texture (from the looks of it; i didn’t dare touch no matter how much i wanted to bc thankfully i still had one fragile shred of dignity left, and i’m sure kathleen would’ve brought out the shotgun), perfect everything. i was about to have a coronary right then and there.

i’ve thought a lot about what i wanted to say to him if i did get the chance to meet him and talk to him. i remembered all the highs and lows of last season and as he finished signing my shirt, i thanked him and said “good luck, niko. and don’t listen to everything they say; you’ll always have people to stand behind you and the team no matter what.” at least that’s what i thought i said. i don’t really remember bc i was half spaced out. but i must’ve said something to that effect bc he looked up from what he was doing and gave me a big, and dare i say, relieved (?), smile. god, his eyes. they were so green. and soft. and really, really kind.

he was probably surprised that i said that to him, what with my earlier crazed stunt. but of course, ever the gentleman, he said “thank you so much” G O D!!!! HIS ACCENT!!!!! if you haven’t heard him speak in english yet, or just speak at all, now’s the time to google that shit. it’s deadly af on video, but goddamn, like everything else about him in person, it’s truly something else live.

mercifully, when he gave me back my shirt and pen, i still had enough life left in me to ask for a picture before i finally passed out. i never would’ve forgiven myself if i forgot!!!

me: thanks again, niko. is it alright if we take a picture?

niko: sure, of course! (god i love him; also, he loves to say “of course” for some reason sjkdhfdfjsdkfh)

so i had my shirt and sharpie in my left hand, and was trying to work my phone with my right hand. niko sidled up real close to my left side and HOLY FUCKING SHIT. he was so warm. and his arm was f i r m. he was leaning really close and my brain was short-circuiting from trying to memorize every single detail and trying to work my phone camera.

(note: my lock screen is niko drenched in beer after they won the bundesliga. thankfully, i turned off my phone’s auto lock just the night before. imagine if he saw me trying to unlock my phone with his wet self plastered on my screen. i never would’ve survived the shame.)

as i was skin on skin with niko, my organs were literally failing. my hands were shaking and sweating, and my camera just. wouldn’t. set. on. photo. it went to video, to slow mo, to god knows what else. it was already getting embarrassing and i was mumbling apologies to niko bc i was sure i’d already taken more than enough of his time. and i haven’t forgotten that kathleen was still there! still staring at us, at me, and witnessing every single mortifying thing!!!!

niko, literally heaven itself incarnate, was so patient though and just chuckled. oh. fuck. me. his chuckle. y’all know his voice is deep af, right? and you know that certain r a s p that comes with it. well, fuck. he did this deep ass raspy chuckle that went straight down to my loins!!!!! christ on a bike!!!! my inner whore was literally about to jump out!!!!! i’ve fantasized about hearing it in person for so long but jesus fucking christ I WASN’T READY. ALL THIS TIME AND MY BODY STILL WASN’T READY!!!! AND I’M DAMN SURE IT WILL NEVER BE READY!!!!!!!!! NO ONE IS READY FOR THIS ATTACK!!!!!!!!

g o d. anyway, he finally took pity on me. he chuckled (i’m on the brink of death here!!!) and reached for my phone to help me take the goddamn photo. he set it on photo (freaking finally, thanks niko) and we posed for the photo. hell, he was so close again. while i tried to smile and look somehow decent, i just had to take away as much detail as i could before we parted.

1. i already said this, but his h a i r. so soft. and houston was freaking humid. while mine was literally about to turn into a bird’s nest from the humidity, the man just couldn’t look fugly if he tried!!! he literally had NO FRIZZ. damn niko, tell me your secret!

2. his stubble was SO CLOSE. every strand? PERFECTION. no words could adequately describe it. and holy shit, his jawline and cheekbones. if i touched it i could literally lacerate my goddamn hand. and he had no pores??? fucking sexy cryptid

3. his c h u c k l e (he wasn’t chuckling anymore, but that shit stays with you till the end of time)

4. HIS S C E N T.

okay. i have a scent kink. i know. TMI. like this whole write up is one big banner for too much fuckin information. but holy shit. HOLY S H I T. until now i still don’t know how to fully describe, and i probably never will succeed in fully conveying what it was truly like (and if my brain embellished some of it; i was really too far gone to know anything anymore), but fuck. f u c k. he wasn’t wearing perfume or cologne, i’m sure of that. nothing too artificial that stood out to my nostrils. probably bc they were going to train under the houston sun and spritzing was wasted and unnecessary. but remember that he was fresh from the shower, so that was basically his main scent. it was very nice, very crisp, very clean. basically, sexy as hell. classy. panty-melting!!!! hell, i don’t know!!!! you know what i mean!!! idk if it’s from the hotel toiletries (if it was, good job post oak hotel!) or if it’s his own (then i need to know niko! what products do you use???). but yeah. clean and crisp. d***y supreme.

and there was also something else. it must’ve been his natural scent. and god. GOD!!!! a bit woodsy (?) and quite sweet. i’ll stop there before i say something that REALLY crosses the line.

so my thumb moves, and we take the photo. ONE FREAKING PHOTO. that’s all i managed. i wasn’t able to look at it until my uber ride to the mall later on, and i really would’ve liked more to take with me and stare at when i’m....lonely. but it was magically HDR, and i looked passable. and niko. again: perfection!!!! now that i know what he’s like in the flesh, nothing else will ever come close. but this does come quite close.

after the photo was taken, i manage to squeak out another “thanks.” niko smiled again (kill me one last time, why don’t you) and squeezed my arm lightly before saying goodbye and finally going up the bus. kathleen could breathe a sigh of relief now.

i don’t know how long i stood there. surely not that long since i still got to take pics with serge, manu, and lewy. but it did feel like forever and i haven’t shaken myself out of it. as i’m writing this, exactly one week later after it happened, i still haven’t shaken myself out of it. i don’t think i ever could.

i’m just thankful to whichever deity made this happen. my houston trip was finally complete (i haven’t met everyone yet at that point, but i just somehow knew deep inside that it would all work out). i got what i came for and more. my extension was not only worth it, but completely priceless. i’ll treasure this whole day and that little moment i got with niko for the rest of my life. that’s for sure.

just to end this, i just wanna say something. i know this was one whole crazy and thirsty post, but seriously. he’s a really nice man. a good man. it wasn’t for more than a few minutes at most, but it felt like forever in my mind. and in that short moment, i just knew he tries his best. i’m a true blue niko stan but even i know he made mistakes. i’m clearheaded enough to acknowledge that. but he tries, and he succeeded. and no matter how calm and cool and collected he always appears to be, you can still see how much it all affects him. hell, he literally grayed in front of our eyes in less than a year. his eyes were a little less bright at the end of the season as compared to his presentation last july. when i gave him that little message of support, i literally saw the relief in his eyes and how much he appreciated it. he and the team have been through quite the ordeal last season, and there are no guarantees it will be easier this time around.

you don’t have to like him, you know. but please. a little basic human respect still goes a long way.

there, i said my piece. and it’s done! thank you, fc bayern, for being so nice and game and all-around wonderful. thank you, kathleen krüger, for staying calm long enough to let me have my moment with niko. and thank you, niko, just for being... you. now here’s the ONE picture i’ll treasure for the rest of my life:

#here it is!!!! it sounds like bad fanfic but it's been so surreal and this is really what it felt like for me don't judge me too harshly pls #niko kovac #niko kovač #fc bayern #bayern munich #fcb #*my crappy shit #mickey meets fcb #my god it's finally done #i'll never do it justice but i really tried #g o d someone just scrape my carcass off the floor thanks #i still can't function properly and i don't think i ever will #on july 21st in the year of our lord 2019 i finally met the love of my life and since then my life has never known peace!!!!!!!!!#B Y E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#also excuse the typos i'm so drained i can't even proofread anymore

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pinktatertots99 · 4 years

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the red portal - hnk faun au fic

fic based off me bud @daireannx‘s hnk faun au. also i think i had too much fun writing this this got longer than what i was expecting.

synops: when a phos headbutts into your daily scavage for human books, plus them knowing a harmless human with hair as red as leafs, gives bookworm lapis some ideas of this newfound advantage.

___________________

lapis hummed as they waited on ghost’s signal for any human’s, mostly hunters or ones equipped with weapons was their concern more, but a lack of human encounters would be nice considering how the library has been getting concerned on it’s disappearing books.

they were brought out a bit as they felt something nudge their backside. looking behind themself they heard cairngorm next to them scoff in surprise as they saw the light sea colored hair of the young faun headbutting them.

“oh dear.” they chuckled lifting their mask a bit. “and here i thought you both were stealthy.” they teased as phos looked up at them with an angry pout, cairn pushing past lapis a bit to glare. “what’re you doing here!?” they asked in a whisper.

“i wanted to join you guuuuys.” they whined. “it’s so boring back home and i couldn’t sleep. but man i wasn’t expecting this close to the human village.” they stated curiously, the bush they hid behind was close to the dirt road of the village and library.

“go home you kid.” cairn stated as phos glared at them. “no! and you can’t do anythi-”

“there’s a human about to pass by lapis, but otherwise no others in sight.” ghost stated as they stood behind phos, who fell to the ground immediately in surprise. “oh. phos hello.”

“human huh? alright then, one isn’t too bad i suppose.” lapis replied as they put their mask back on, crouching under the bush as footsteps started coming from the road. “ghostie, you can go take phos back once this human passes okay?” they whispered as phos got enough, looking through the bush’s leaves to see a glimpes of red hair.

“ah! cinna!” they exclaimed, loud enough for cinnabar to turn to the bushes, only seeing phos’s face through the bush with a smile. ...they quickly tried to turn away.

“psssst!!! cinnaaaa, cinnaaaa.” they whispered slightly loudly as the three elders looked in concern, with lapis moving to look intrigued. “you know this human phos?”

“huh? yeah, they know magic!”

“quit passing false info like the rest of this damn village.” the three flinched and hid their heads down as phos looked to see cinnabar looking at em. “hi cinna. and it’s okay lapis knows magic to-”

“phos shut up-” cairn gritted their teeth as cinnabar looked around a bit. “...my hallucinations are getting worse i swear.”

“i’m not a halluci-whatever i’m a faun named phos.” phos replied as lapis hummed lightly, moving to grab phos’s arm gently enough for them to move a bit to hear them, the rest of themself was shrouded in a tree’s shadow. “phos, can you ask your little friend there a little favor?”

“favor?”

“can they...go to the library?”

“oh o-”

“absolutely not.” the four looked as cinnabar mostly looked at phos. “like hell i’m gonna help some hallucinations on whatever their doing. sides, the library doesn’t like me either.” they mumbled, rubbing their arm as phos hummed. “cinna, do you have any books?”

“i’m not giving em to you.”

“pleeeaaase? i never seen a human book befoooore. just one please?” cinnabar growled lightly as they scratched their head. “god damnit...if it means you go away then fine. think i got some i don’t need much.” they mumbled as they moved to leave. “their back home, i’ll be back, hopefully you guys are gone by then.” they stated as they walked off, phos waving lightly as they did. “bye bye cinna.”

lapis watched aswell, a smirk on their lips as the albino siblings looked at them confused. “hmm, i do believe i have an idea.”

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

phos galloped excitedly from lapis’s place, ghost and cairn were biting their dust as they got to the small book in their hands. quickly however they bumped into someone, falling back and rubbing their nose. “owwwww! hey watch where your go-” they exclaimed till they noticed the intimidating glare of the raven haired patroler looking down on them. “-iiiiiiinguhhh hiiii bortz-”

“the hell are you doing out here?” they interrogated picking them up by the hem of the back of their shirt. “your not a damn patroler and it’s dangerous in this part- what is that?” they looked to the book in their arms, they held it tighter. “nnothiiiing! lemme goooo!”

“that’s a human material- where did you get it!?” they exclaimed bringing the younger close to their face. “we got it.” they dropped them in surprise as they saw the white haired twins staring at them, ghost being the one to speak up as they scoffed. “of course. you two and your wanderings.” they stated as they dragged phos back to them.

“whatever or however you got this, take. it. back.” they threatened as cairn walked up a bit, grabbing the book and giving a glare. “and you became the leader when?” they asked as both almost could’ve had lightning piercing the other with their glares. “I’M the high ranked warrior here, now dispose of that or i’ll dispose it myself.” they growled as dia had come up to pet behind their ear a bit, while ghost scooped up phos. “fine, we’ll dispose it to euc, we didn’t even wanna be here.” they stated as both walked off, phos sticking their tongue out at bort as they galloped off.

once the cave’s entrance came to their views ghost put phos down as they giggled, cairn smacking the top of their head lightly with the book. “owwww! hey rude!” they stated as they quickly snatched the book back. “rude!? i nearly lost my hide thanks to you!”

“aw c’mooon it’s bortz, they’d rather steal a human’s hide then yours.” they stated as the three walked up lightly to the blue and white haired high ranker, taking notes on some of the objects that had been found already. quickly phos put the book down loud enough for euc to hear and do a double take looking at it and the three. “heehee hi eu-”

“WHERE DID YOU GET THIS!?” jade exclaimed, gaining some of the others attention and crowding around in surprise.

“a human object!?”

“that’s a human thing!”

“doesn’t lexi call em ‘boxs’?”

“IT’S ALEX AND THEIR CALLED BOOKS!”

phos sweated lightly as they still had a small grip on the book, already gaining the group’s human enthusiast. “ppplease euc!! i must see that for analytical reasons please!” they exclaimed as euc put both their hands up to calm the others, looking to phos sternly like a parent would. “phos, where did you find this?”

“...i...uhh iii-”

“we found it by the ocean.” phos flopped over again as ghost stood behind them to reply, euc humming. “of course, humans do seem to go there quite often. you should take it back though, what if they come to find it?”

“wwait wait euuuuuc!!!” alex quickly exclaimed. “pleeaaase lemme just borrow it to take notes pleeaaase?? there’s so little documentation of humans here!” euc held their head in their hand before complying. “alright, alex can borrow the book, and you two take it back where you found it after, alright?”

“yes.”

___________________

the two galloped with the book in cairn’s hands back to lapis’s living quarters, books were in small stacks with sharp daggers above them as lapis was busy reading one of them. “i take it the little kid had fun?” they asked as cairn handed it back. “it wasn’t even supposed to go there, why did you give them the okay to show it?” cairn asked as lapis lifted their hair lightly.

“i thought that alex would like least one to look over. sides,” they moved to show the book cover, a leaf was sketched onto it. “this is for natural medicines and remedies. i thought maybe they’d like somethings from it to help. just incase.” they winked, the twins moving to sit on either side of them as ghost spoke up. “so, will we be using that red headed one again?”

“for library books? unlikely from their outcast status. however, these remedy types would be beneficial to the group.” they stated as cairn raised a brow. “don’t tell me we have to bring the kid with us to ask for more from them.”

“awww my little gormie are you being protective?” lapis teased as cairn looked away flustered. “nno! i just don’t want this to blow up in our faces.”

“well, they seem to only to reply to them. perhaps we could try, but i’m doubtful they’ll trust us as easily as they seem to for that kid.” they explained. “sides, we can find ours much more easily, and more fun on our nightly rounds. we’ll ask if it’s something more useful to the tribe. i will say though, they would be a worthy adversary in the future.” they stated, both the twins nodding as they moved to start reading one of their books on the human history.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #lotl #kingdom of gems #au #fanfiction #hnk faun au #the pink one speaks #i made this

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

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Kinktober Day 5

Happy fifth day of Kinktober!!

There’s still one spot open on the list! I still need to update the current list, but if you’d like to put in a suggestion for spot #29 check out the current list and send em my way! Since this is the last one, I’m gonna hold out for a few days before deciding :)

Today’s prompt brought to you by this lovely submission by anonymous: “Inky gets jealous after an Orlesian Noble hits on Cullen. Make it loud enough that O.N. can hear how much Cullen enjoys being fucked by his woman.”

The Orlesian’s habits of dismissing her at the Winter Palace hadn't miffed Sarya much. Even some of the nobles who visited Skyhold weren't above walking past her, as if expecting anyone else in the world to be the Inquisitor, and still it didn't bother her. Truth be told, she took the quiet moments in stride, thankful for a break from nobles vying for her attention day in and day out between her missions. As it was, she wasn't surprised that all of Orlais seemed to disregard her relationship with Cullen and consider it open season when it came to courting for him after they had caught a glimpse. The suggestions always came via letter, making them easy to ignore - they left the rejections to Josephine's more skilled and appropriate words. Then, there were the Dumarques.

What had begun as a scheduled visit to Skyhold for a brief meeting and discussion with the Inquisitor soon gave light to it's real purpose: namely, gaining a moment for Lord Dumarque’s daughter to mercilessly flirt with Cullen as if Sarya wasn't even there. Her Commander stood in the corner of the small meeting room, at first confused as to why his presence had been requested when the Lord had no intention of conversing with him. Then, their purpose had become blatantly obvious. Justine Dumarque had wasted little time, approaching Cullen the moment her father had struck up conversation with Sarya at the small table in the room. As the Lord rambled on and on about trifling matters, Sarya's eyes had gradually made their way to the two off to the side, narrowing as Justine giggled and gripped Cullen's arm for balance as he flushed in the face and tried to delicately shake her off.

“...is it true, that they call you the Lion?”

“That is… Ridiculous, I've never heard… Why - Why would they…”

“A lion has no business amongst rabbits… Perhaps I could show you what two lions can do together once alone -”

“What an interesting bit of information, Lord Dumarque!” The three of them jumped in surprise as Sarya slammed her hands down on the table in front of her as she stood. “Commander, Lord Dumarque has just told me the most fascinating thing about his land that the Inquisition may be interested in assisting with. We should talk about it, you and I, before any more conversation is made.”

“You want to - Oh! Yes, of course.” Cullen cleared his throat loudly, nodding his head as he briskly walked over to the Lord and urged him out of the room along with his daughter. “The Inquisitor likes to… Discuss with at least one of her advisors before making any decisions. I'm sure you understand. We will call for you when a decision has been made.”

Lord Dumarque had opened his mouth to protest when Sarya had shut the door none too softly, locking it with finesse. Cullen let out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Maker, the nerve of some of these - what are you doing?” Cullen's eyes opened as he felt Sarya pulling at the buckles on his armor. Metal clanked to the floor as she removed piece by piece, and he found himself too caught off guard to do anything but stand there and stare.

“I'm sick of these Orlesians, thinking you're ripe for the taking,” she murmured angrily. Cullen's eyes traveled along her, regarding the pink of her face, the angry crease between her brows, and the way her ears flattened ever so slightly against her head.

“Sarya… Are you jealous?” The question left him slowly, a smirk growing like wildfire on his face as she practically ripped the mantel from his shoulders.

“I'm not jealous,” she lied. Her eyes flickered up to meet his for a moment, and then she huffed slightly as she finished removing his armor, slowing only slightly once he was down to his shirt. “Fine, I'm jealous. But I'm sick of them, and their attitudes. They think I'm just a toy for you until you find the right human woman.”

“And you think if they hear you they'll think any different...?” Cullen asked slowly, unsure if the logic checked out.

“No.” She shook her head, taking him by the hand to stand in front of one of the overstuffed sitting chairs Josephine had outfitted the small room in. Cullen looked down, flushing slightly as she roughly undid the laces of his breeches and pulled them down before pushing him back onto the chair. “But, if they hear you, they may.”

Cullen's mouth hung open as Sarya dropped to her knees, his lungs sucking in air as she took him into her mouth. His hands flung to the back of her head, tangling in her long curls as his cock grew rapidly in her mouth. Normally, when she surprised him with a treat like this, she took her time, slowly enticing him and worshipping him until he burst from her skill. Nothing about today was normal, however.

Sarya bobbed along his cock at a pace that made him groan as his hips rocked, a loud whimper escaping his throat as she gripped lower on the shaft tightly with her hand. Her touch was amazing, firmer than usual, moving in sync with her wet, hot mouth at a pace that made his head spin. His breath was already heavy, his nerves on edge in the most delightful way at her jealous display. He sighed in anticipation when she suddenly removed her hand from him, that delicious pressure disappearing. Cullen watched as her eyes flickered up to meet his, and as she sunk her mouth down on him, his eyes rolled back to close and a loud groan rolled from deep in his throat as his cock hit hers.

“Fuck…” It left him as a gasping growl, heavy, audible breaths cascading from him as she did it again. And again. She started a rhythm with it, knowing full well that he was his loudest when she took in as much of him as she could handle. When she began to lower again, Cullen pressed on the back of her head, his hips meeting her halfway. He groaned as her throat flexed around him, the pressure from his hand lightening as he allowed her to pop him out with a gasp for breath. Almost immediately she sunk back down on him, her tongue salaciously swirling on him.

“Maker’s breath… You are… The most… Ah… Perfect woman…” Each word left him in loud, heavy breaths, and she hummed in appreciation of his praise. Cullen sunk his fingers back into her hair. He could feel his body beginning to tighten, his hips rocking as his thighs flexed. He gasped loudly as her warm hand came up to cup his balls, gently fondling and squeezing as she licked and sucked at his cock. Cullen's grip on her hair tightened as he hit her throat once more, and when she did it again he thrust up into her mouth, loud groans and gasps raggedly cascading from his mouth until his throat was dry as he emptied pulse by pulse down her throat. Cullen let up on Sarya's hair, one last groan leaving him as he felt her throat flex as she swallowed. Then, she slid him from her mouth, taking a deep, satisfied breath as she looked up at him.

“Well, I feel better,” she said. Cullen laughed instantly through heavy breaths, and as she stood and held out her hand to him he eagerly took it. Once on his feet, he pulled up his breeches, grabbing her hand once more as she began to turn away. He pulled her against him, cupping the side of her face as he kissed her deeply. Sarya hummed against his lips with a smile, licking her lip appreciatively when they parted.

“Shall we tell the Lord of our decision?” She teased.

“Allow me.” Cullen's shoulders squared, his spine straightening as he marched over to the door. Sarya almost considered reminding him that his armor was still strewn across the floor, or how the back of his hair had become matted from the chair, then decided against it. Cullen unlocked the door loudly, and when he flung it open he found the Lord standing there with a huffy expression, his daughter close behind looking none too please.

“It's going to be a no, I'm sorry,” Cullen said briefly. Lord Dumarque’s eyes widened, his arms crossing as his daughter huffed.

“Commander, you haven't heard of what we will give to the Inquisition if you -”

Cullen slammed the door, surprising Sarya in his haste.

“Josie isn't going to be thrilled about that,” she said, unable to hide the grin that was only slightly subdued at the corners of her mouth.

“You think he actually was interested in whatever he was talking to you about?” Cullen asked, and Sarya licked her lips as he locked the door again.

“Probably not,” she admitted. She backed up slowly as Cullen turned, an almost predatory gaze in his eyes that made her heart race in excitement as he looked her over. “I thought you said you have training after this?”

She grinned as her backside hit the table, her hands gripping it from behind as he trapped her between his arms.

“The only thing I am interested in at the moment…” He took a moment to look her over, smirking before he began unbuttoning her shirt. “Is ensuring those two leave before we open that door again. I trust you will help me with that?”

Sarya could only swallow, and nod.

#kinktober #cullavellan #cullen rutherford #cullen x lavellan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #sarya lavellan #fanfiction #my work #my ocs

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tabithacarlisle · 5 years

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*OFF THE RECORD : Part 10.1

.......

by jo ( @tabithacarlisle ;)

*Catch up on OFF THE RECORD’s previous chapters Parts 1-9 here at the OTR MASTERLIST

Word count: 5167

OTR Part 10 Notes & Warnings: Pixelberry Studios owns these characters, not me! I just have fun playing with them :)

Notes: This chapter because of the length & scope needed to be split into 2 parts.

*OTR Part 10.2 is still in the works, thanks for being so patient! ;)

Warnings: This will be 18+ NS*W, !, erotica, polyamory, marital angst, discussions of group sex, recreational [legal]drug use, swearing,

If you click ‘Keep Reading’ you are acknowledging that you are 18+

*OTR Part 10.1

……….

“We’re here!! Max, take the road to the left of the gates. Ellis will let us in the back way to the cabin.”

“I’m so excited babe, I can’t wait to see it.”

Once past the security gates, Maxwell drove his Jag (a new purchase from his book advance earnings) down the newly paved road to the far end of the Valtoria estate.

“I know, I’ve only seen it in pictures so far and whenever Drake has FaceTime’d me when he had to come here for the building inspections. It’s going to be so perfect for the four of us! I can’t wait to show it to you in person!”

He parked in the side driveway and turning the ignition off, pivoted off the side of the driver’s seat and winced. “ohh. Almost forgot that was there” Maxwell brushed his hand lightly against something hidden underneath his shirt.

“Max, are you sure you’re ok with these new rules of Bastien’s? I know you don’t like guns.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Hate ‘em, in fact. Don’t get me wrong, I love swords and daggers and crossbows, mostly for their awesome champagne cork-popping potential. But firearms make me nervous, even after all those weeks of training I had to go through to be able to travel alone with you.”

“I know, Bastien made it so Drake has to carry one when he travels alone with Liam, too.”

“Y’know, the target practice training with Mara and Bash was actually pretty fun. But three full weeks of studying all of those security protocol books was really stressful. It made me feel like I was back at University again, and not the fun parts of University with the coed parties. Plus, reading through all of those scary possible scenarios was really…intense…”

“Maxwell, I know you said you’d do this for me, but if you’re ever uncomfortable with the responsibility just let me know, please? We can always ask one of the royal guards to escort us on our trips. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m forcing you to do this.”

“I don’t. Tabitha, I love you so much. I would never let anything happen to you if I could help it. And if I have to get all ‘John Wick’ on some assassin’s ass to protect you and our ba—I mean your baby…”

Tabitha squeezed his hand. “It’s okay.” she whispered, “You can say it to me, babe.”

“Well, statistically speaking, the chances that the baby’s mine are pretty low…”

“That doesn’t matter. You are going to be the most wonderful ‘Uncle Max.’ The best. And your little niece or nephew is going to be so blessed to have you in their life every day. I know I’m blessed to have you every day.” She beamed at him with eyes sparkling with tears.

Maxwell blushed. He squeezed her hand back and sighed, carefully patting the hidden SIG Sauer pistol holstered under his shirt. “Anyways… I’m looking forward to locking this thing up in the safe when we get inside.”

“I know, right? Inside our very own private cabin!! Look! There’s Drake and Liam on the porch!”

She walked carefully up the wood porch stairs; Maxwell followed behind her pulling their suitcases. Liam and Drake were outside busying themselves staining the wood porch deck that surrounded the cabin.

“Hey boys! We made it! Ooh, you both are looking sexy working hard out here in the sun with your shirts off. Mama likes. Need any help?” She tilted her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and raised her eyebrows suggestively at them. Drake looked up, beaming at her with a big goofy grin, looking like he was about ready to hand her a paintbrush, anxious to get her involved. Liam, on the other hand chuckled dismissively, shaking his head. He paused to wipe sweat from his brow and lean over the deck railing as he replied,

“Thank you, love, but… I’m afraid that’s not the best idea. Even outdoors, the chemical fumes from the deck stain might be harmful for the baby. You should go ahead, unpack, and relax indoors.”

She shrugged, “Okay, if you insist?”

“I do.”

Liam wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and bent down to kiss her sweetly. Tabitha got up on tiptoes to kiss him back, then turned ‘round to grab Maxwell by the hand.

“C’mon, Max! I want to show you your room.”

She went inside with Maxwell trailing behind her, whereupon he found himself denied entry as Drake braced his bare muscled arm flexing in front of the door frame.

“Slow your roll there, Beaumont. You aren’t pregnant. So go on, pick up a brush and get to work.”

“Nah, I’d better go in with her. Y’know? ‘Queen’s Retinue’ duties and all that...” Maxwell shrugged, smirking before he pushed Drake’s arm aside. “Have fun, fellas!”

Drake seethed as he watched them go in, muttering under his breath,

“Lazy-ass motherfu—“

Liam grabbed his shoulder to hold him back, scolding, “Drake, we promised we’d be civil out here, for Tabitha’s sake. ‘Circle of Trust’ Remember?”

They both watched them through the window and heard Tabitha squeal as Maxwell picked her up and carried her bridal-style up the stairs.

“Look at ‘em, Lee. Fuckin’ ‘Romeo & Juliet’ in there...”

“She needs him now. And I need you...”

Liam came up closer from behind and slipped his hands into Drake’s front jean pockets as he bent his head to kiss the side of his neck. Drake reached his hand around to cup the backside of Liam’s head, threading his fingers through Liam’s hair and arching his back into him, closing his eyes as he let out a low moan. Liam finished his sentence in a low whisper at Drake’s ear, before he playfully nipped it with his teeth.

“...to finish helping me stain this deck.”

“Ughh, fine. You win.”

“I always do.”

He slapped Drake’s ass, causing both of them to laugh as they went back to work.

...

Tabitha woke up from her nap in her room to the sounds of Maxwell and Liam laughing outside. She rolled gingerly off the bed and peered out the window, smiling. They had turned the riverbank into a makeshift driving range, hitting golf balls off of the dock. Tabitha felt utterly content and at peace at sight of the two of them having fun and enjoying each other’s company and it warmed her from within. The sharp kick she felt when she stood up startled her, and she held her belly as she spoke to it, “That’s right, baby. That’s your father down there…” The uncertainty of paternity that once seemed like it would be a cloud over all of their lives, here, all together where they could be together without expectations and restrictions, felt like a non-issue. It didn’t matter, because everyone who mattered to her was here with her, exactly how she wanted it to be. She went downstairs to go watch the boys' outdoor activities up closer.

Drake was on the porch, standing by the railing. He wasn’t watching the other two gentlemen as they horsed around by the river. Golf wasn’t his thing. He was facing the mountain range just beyond the cottage grounds seemingly lost in thought. He held an ornate looking brown beer bottle as he stood and took a swig. Tabitha approached him.

“That looks good.”

“Oh this? Yeah, it is. It’s a small batch Belgian Lambic I picked up at the bottle shop on the way over. Hazy, not too fruity, which is how I like it. It’s got a nice, rounded malt mouth feel to it though.”

“You’re making my mouth water. I can’t wait‘till this baby comes and I can finally drink beer again.”

Drake grinned and took another drink without breaking eye contact. Nothing sexier than a hot chick who can drink with the guys. She’s perfect. As an idea crossed his mind his eyes darted around towards the river, then back to her with a conspiratorial smirk.

“...I could… give you a sip. I won’t tell Liam.”

“I shouldn’t...”

“Why not?” he whispered back “Women around here drink in moderation when they’re pregnant. Hell, all of our moms probably did, and we turned out just fine. It’s Lee who’s gotten all paranoid after reading one too many American books on pregnancy to get ready for the baby. I don’t think one sip is going to hurt anyone.”

“Shhh...” She looked around to make sure Liam and Maxwell weren’t watching. “Ok give it here, quick before I change my mind.”

Tabitha took a swig from the bottle, and it was every bit as flavorful and complex as Drake had made it out to be.

“Mmmmm! that is good!”

“I told you.” His arms crossed over his broad chest satisfied at this small victory in their little secret. Drake was staring at her in awe as she took one last sip. A wide grin crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and leaned in towards her.

“I’m just so… so goddamned happy.”

Drake set the bottle down on the porch rail and beamed at Tabitha, clasping her shoulders and rubbing in affectionate circles as he beamed from ear to ear.

“We did it, Carlisle. This is what we’ve been talking about since, god... since we first hooked up, right? You and me, and Liam. We’re actually doing this crazy thing tonight. I never, ever thought we’d be able to convince him, but I should never have doubted you. You just have this way of bringing people together. Carlisle, I lo—“ his voice trailed off and his smile faltered for just a moment as he weighed the meaning of the words he was about to say,

“What?”

Drake’s expression became reverent. “I love you, Carlisle... Tabitha, I love you.” he spoke with such gentleness it was almost whispered. His hand stroked up the base of her neck and cupped the back of her head underneath her hair, pressing gently against the sensitive spot just under her ear, causing her breath to stutter.

“Drake...”

He smiled as his eyes searched hers, cupping her face in his warm hands, “What? Is it that much of a surprise to you?”

“No, I know you do. It’s just so nice to hear you admit it to me, finally.” Her arms snaked around the small of his back, “I love you too, Drake. So damned much.”

He pulled her by her hips to press against his own, then skimmed the back of his knuckles against her cheekbone as she closed her eyes and inhaled, savoring his touch in the charged moment they were sharing. “Well, I think that means I’m going to have to kiss you now.”

Tabitha opened her eyes again with a wry grin up at him, “You’d better.”

Drake wrapped his arms around her and looked animatedly over his shoulder as if to check to see if either of their lovers were watching them, “Nah, I don’t care who sees us anymore.”

Tabitha had just a short moment to get lost in the heated stare of longing in Drake’s eyes before they closed, half lidded, and his lips found hers, fitting together before she skimmed his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue to coax it open. It had been so long, too long, since Drake had allowed himself to kiss her like this: sure of his love for her, and sure of Liam’s blessing in this place of refuge they had created & built for this very purpose. Her knees went weak just as his arms braced around her torso and they melted into each other, breathless, desperate and hungry for touch. And all too soon, their embrace was interrupted.

“Oi! Cut that out!” Maxwell came bounding to them up the back-porch stairs, possessively pulling Tabitha’s torso away from Drake and tickled her as he playfully kissed the side of her neck. “Tabz! I’m here to save you from this random vagrant! He looked like he was about to devour your face off!”

“Maxwell! stahp!” She protested through fits of giggles. “You’re incorrigible.”

Maxwell’s arms wrapped round her with his fingers laced together under her belly from behind, and he bent down, resting his chin on her shoulder as he rocked her, gloating to his old friend. “Sorry, Drake. You know how it is. ‘Queen’s Retinue’ duties and all of that.”

“I know where I’d like you to shove your ‘Queen’s Retinue duties’ right now...”

Maxwell stepped in front of Tabitha scowling, momentarily emboldened by Drake’s challenge, “Fight me.”

Tabitha pulled back on Maxwell’s shirt collar to no avail “Max, please. This is ridiculous. Stop.”

Drake cracked his knuckles in fists at his sides.

“You asked for it...”

It took Maxwell all of 30 seconds after he challenged Drake for him to regret it. “Wait! No, don’t! seriously? Liam just asked me to bring you two inside for lunch. And we have to make it ourselves since you both insisted there should be no staff working on site while we’re here! Ha! Great idea, guys.” Maxwell put his thumbs up as his voice dripped with sarcasm.

“No staff means no outside witnesses when I decide to wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Um... How about we wait ‘till after lunch?”

..........

The crew of four had lunch and spent the remainder of the day relaxing at the cabin. Four o’clock came around, and Tabitha rose to her feet. “All right boys, I’m going to go take a nice hot shower, maybe a soak in the tub first, then a shower, and get myself ready. For tonight. For us.” She stood up and winked, and they all stood up to bid her farewell.

She went to Liam first, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head before hooking a finger under her chin to tilt her head up to him. Her blue eyes sparkled at him, smiling crinkled the corners. “God you’re beautiful. I look forward to meeting with you again, soon, my love.”

“Liam” she whispered, “darling, I love you. So much. I’m so happy. Thank you, for everything. I want you to have fun with the boys relaxing tonight, ok? It’ll help your nerves. “ She could feel his hands trembling slightly as he cupped her face.

“Right, I know you’re right. You always are.” He bent down as she raised herself on tiptoes to kiss her softly on the lips, letting the kiss linger and open softly, grazing her tongue lightly with his before he pulled back and clasped her shoulders. “I love you too,”

Tabitha squeezed Liam’s hand before she let it drop as she moved to Drake, reaching for his hand hooked in his jean belt loops. “Drake, this house, this moment, everything, it’s perfect. None of this wouldn’t have been possible without you. Thank you.”

Drake wrapped her in a strong bear hug, pulling her tightly to his chest as he kissed her head and whispered in her ear, “I think you have that wrong. You’re the reason we’re all here. You made this happen. It’s your magic that set everything in motion.”

“So, a team effort then?” She smirked and winked at him, making Drake weak in the knees. He pulled her in for one last embrace before she pulled away, saving her Max for last.

Maxwell and Tabitha reached out for each other’s hands. He pulled her to him, and their hips met as flush as they could get with a nearly five-month pregnant belly separating them both. His hands took hers and rolled her arms in a dance and he met her gaze with raised brows, “Do you need any help drawing your bath? Or getting anything else in the room ready? I’m happy to help.”

“You are too good to me Max, no, I’ll be fine. These two will need you to get them relaxed. You brought the good stuff right?”

“You know it, I’ve got that under control.”

“If you’re sure then…” Maxwell kissed her hand and twirled her, giddy under his arms as her body curled up against his back. He bent down and caught her top lip in his before her mouth opened and his sighed into her. She pulled away reluctantly and dragged her hand down his arm before she squeezed his hands one last time.

“Ok. Have fun boys, and behave. I love you all. And remember,” she laced her fingers together as she turned around one last time before heading to the master bedroom “Circle of Trust!” Her shoulders fell as she sighed audibly one last time before turning on her heels and heading towards the master suite.

……….

“It’s not working.”

“No, see… you have to click it five times fast, like this.”

Liam inhaled deeply, he never liked the smell or taste of marijuana and the sooner he got high enough to not care about either of those things, the better.

His hand holding the vape pen fell to rest on the white Turkish cotton spa towel covering his knees while the smoke billowed out of his mouth and nostrils as he spoke.

“I don’t feel anything yet.”

Maxwell clucked his tongue as he helped himself to the pen resting on Liam’s lap to take a hit. “Geez, don’t be such a noob. It doesn’t take effect the moment you start smoking. Give it a few minutes.” Maxwell leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes as he took a drag and blew it out in a large, dense cloud.

“Check out the expert over here.” Drake snatched the pen from Maxwell’s hand, took a long drag for himself and then passed it back to Liam. “It’s true though. Apparently you’ve had more experience at all of this than either of us.”

“Experience at what?”

“Party drugs... Group sex...”

“Well yeah, when you’ve been to the kind of parties I have, the orgies are pretty standard.”

Drake coughed purposefully to hi-light his mocking.

“‘standard’... ‘orgies?’”

“Well, yeah... I mean...”

Liam and Drake both stared at Maxwell pointedly, waiting for him to finish the thought. He was sweating profusely as he began to understand how the casual tone of the words falling out of his mouth must sound to them. ‘Circle of Trust’... shit...

“I always got tested regularly!”

Drake’s brow furrowed and he sneered at Maxwell, “You just used the past-tense.”

“That’s because I never...” Maxwell’s voice trailed off and he mumbled the rest, clearly too embarrassed to be speaking about such intimate issues in front of his two old friends.

“What was that, Beaumont?”

“I meant to say that I haven’t slept with anyone else since we met Tabitha. The last rager-party I went to where I hooked up with someone was before your first bachelor party, Liam, before we met Tabitha... and I haven’t...”

“You haven’t had sex with anyone else since we met Carlisle? I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true! I wouldn’t lie about that. I know what’s at stake.”

“I believe him.”

“Wait a damned minute, Maxwell. I remember seeing Tariq strutting out of your hotel room the night we met Carlisle in New York. You’re telling me that was ‘nothing’?”

“Exactly, because I turned him down. Nothing happened, swear to god.”

Drake turned towards Liam, “You believe him?”

Liam looked Maxwell square in the eye and could sense the sincerity he projected. “I do.”

Maxwell continued replying to Drake, “Just because someone walks outta your hotel room, doesn’t mean that you’ve hooked up with them. You should know that. With Tariq in particular. You were there the night he tried to assault Tabitha.” Maxwell could feel himself getting angrier. He stared pointedly at Drake, hoping he’d drop the matter, and if he didn’t, Maxwell had half a mind to bring up that time in Paris when he saw Drake leaving Kiara’s hotel room late at night. I’ll bring it up, right in front of Liam, too. I don’t care. Just try me.

Drake persisted,

“So why, then? Was it because you were hoping to hook up with Carlisle? Was that your plan all along when you decided to sponsor her?”

“Fuck… no! Stop trying to think you understand my motives. ‘Cause you clear as hell don’t.”

“Yeah, but I know you, Maxwell.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Tabitha, she changed me. When we were going through Social Season I saw her with you, Liam. The connection you guys had was magical. I don’t know a better way to describe it-- it still is, and I realized that’s what I wanted to find someday, too. So I decided I was going to stop partying and stop sleeping around. But I never dared to imagine that we’d all end up like...” Maxwell’s thought trailed off. This was a getting lot heavier than most subject matters he was used to discussing while getting high.

Liam could sense Maxwell’s discomfort and attempted to change the subject, as he himself started to feel too buzzed to discuss such pressing matters, “Look, what’s done is done. I harbor no ill feelings towards you, Maxwell. And you,”

He turned re-directing his comment at Drake before he finished the sentence,

“need to... fucking, relax...” Liam’s shoulders shrugged, and he started giggling with an uncharacteristically wide goofy grin. The smoke poured out of his mouth and nostrils as he passed the pen to Drake, putting his hand on the inside of Drake’s thigh so that it began to push up the towel covering his lap, his head bent towards him as he looked down at Drake’s lips.

“Damn, Lee. You’re so high right now.”

“I know how to get you to shut up.”

“Then fuckin’ do it.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

Liam growled, “You know…” His eyes flickered back and forth from Drake’s lips to his dilated pupils and back again as he leaned in closer with a hand on Drake’s lap. The towels covering them both fell as they angled their heads and leaned into each other

“Yes, sire…”

“Fuck…”

Liam lips captured Drakes and their tongues began to twist together. Drake groaned in Liam’s mouth as his arms wrapped around his shoulders and he dipped him down on the wood bench.

Maxwell’s vision seemed to get cloudier. Did someone put more water on the rocks? It suddenly felt stiflingly hot and overwhelming as the sauna seemed to shrink before his eyes. Was he just really high? Or was the act of watching two of his oldest friends making out in front of him turning him on more than he had anticipated it would do to him? Their hands were all over each other, moaning just a bit too loudly for Maxwell’s taste. He felt like he was intruding on their privacy.

“Um… hey, you guys?” he spoke in a whisper under his breath, thinking out loud… but Liam and Drake were too wrapped up in making out to hear him “What’s the saying? ‘If you can’t join ’em… beat it?’ Heh-heh…”

Maxwell clicked the vape pen five times fast to start it up again and closed his eyes while blowing out the smoke out his nostrils as his hand reached down for his dick, already nearly erect at half-mast. His thoughts took him back to the shower in the Royal Chambers with Tabitha, how she rode him so slowly it made him ache. He remembered how the water droplets raced down her breasts as they bounced against his chest, how smooth her back was as he held her, the soft sounds she made as she neared climax…

“Bloody hell, Maxwell?! where have you been hiding... that—?”

Maxwell startled from his trance and he looked down, realizing he now had an audience as he jacked off. Drake and Liam were both back to sitting on the opposite bench, wide eyed slack jawed, staring at him and all of his 9 and a half inches. He stopped pumping his cock abruptly and gulped as his knees reflexively shut together, pulling his towel back over them.

“Um...in... my pants?”

“Clearly you are... a man of... hidden depths?” Liam fought an attempt to keep a straight face but failed when he couldn’t keep from snickering.

Drake snorted, “That’s one way to put it!”

“I’m going to take that compliment and run with it, Liam, thanks.”

Drake had been laughing so much he had to wipe the tears from his eyes and catch his breath before he spoke again, “Goddamnit, Maxwell, I’ll admit I never could understand what Carlisle saw in you before today, but... now?...I get it.”

“Oh fuck you. That’s not the only reason!”

“Pffft...Isn’t it?!?”

“Shut-the-fuck-up!”

He snapped his wet towel at him

“HAHahahaHA! Fuuuuck this is some good shit, I am... so high right now? I take it back, Maxwell. Your dick is huge, and every now and then you come up with some fan-fuckin’-tastic ideas. Like this weed vape. We definitely need to do this more often, Lee.” He leaned in to press his lips against Liam’s smile and ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth before taking another drag of the vape and passing it back to Liam

Maxwell took a big sip from his water bottle. “It’s nice to see you finally appreciating me, Drake. Thanks, man.”

Liam blew his toke out the side of his mouth, finally getting the hang of it, as he attempted to return to serious conversation. “So, are we really going to go through with this?”

“Damn right we are. And we better get started before I think better of including Beaumont, here.”

Maxwell scoffed, “Good thing it’s up to Tabitha and not you then, assmunch”

“You’d like it if I ‘munched’ your ass, wouldn’t you?”

Maxwell wiggled his eyebrows “Not as much as you’d enjoy ‘munching’ it”

Liam let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes and dragging a hand over his face in dramatic disgust while the other two dissolved into fits of giggles. Drake broke his laughter, wheezing, to say, “Nah, that’s never going to happen.”

.........

“So I’ll be taking Tabitha from the front, first. I am her husband and I am king after all. That ought to count for something.”

Maxwell took another long toke, and winced, squinting thoughtfully. “Seems fair.”

Drake guffawed, “no it isn’t! But that’s the whole point of the monarchy isn’t it? To not be fair.”

Liam gritted his teeth, “So that’s how you really feel?”

Drake closed his eyes and covered his face, only trying halfheartedly to keep from laughing more. Liam continued grilling him

“Tell me? What’s next? Are you going to start running around shouting ‘Eat the Rich!’ and spray-painting anarchy symbols all over the Palace walls?”

Maxwell giggled, “Heheheh... That’d be pretty funny.”

“Nah, Lee. If I end up painting giant letter “A”s on anything, it’s gonna stand or “Ass” “‘cause I fucking love yours. And Carlisle’s, for that matter... damn that’s a good piece of ass… But not yours, Maxwell.”

“Shuddup!”

“Enough! You two. Jesuschrist. Drake: Tabitha discussed wanting you to take her from behind for the entire duration. I believe that’s best…”

“I already talked about this with her before we came here y’know… you don’t have to-- "

“Did you, now? Fine, then Maxwell, after I’ve had her, you’ll take my place.”

“I’m down with that, but… why does this feel like you’re coaching us on plays before the big game or something Liam? It’s just sex…”

“ ‘Just sex’ Is that how you’d define it? Didn’t you have to plan out the details before your past ménage trysts?”

“Umm… nope? They kinda just, happened?” he winced and covered his eyes, the memories were making him blush, desperate to move the subject on from his past.

“Well I do feel, if we’re going to make this work, we need to have this planned out. Perhaps you’d be well advised to bring some more planning into your life for once, Maxwell…”

“Dude, dude… you’re going off… She’s gonna get mad if you’re in a pissed off mood when we start.” Drake chuckled, “Damn, Lee. Never figured you’d be an ‘angry stoner.’”

Max rolled his lips together in an attempt to keep from laughing. It didn’t work. His shoulders heaved as he spoke, “Pfft! Yeah, he’s pretty intense at micromanaging everyone when he’s sober, but this is some next-level shit”

Drake leaned forward wide eyed towards Maxwell, laughing with a side-five slapping his hand in agreement, “Right?”

“Would you two just--” Liam pouted, leaning against the wall. He was not amused.

Drake and Max both choked on their laughs as they tried to get serious again. “Nah, Liam. It’s cool. I’m down for whatever makes you guys happy; whatever makes Tabitha happy. We both love her, and I want us to make this work just like you do.”

“That’s good to hear from you, Maxwell. I’m glad it appears we’re on the same page.”

Drake leaned his arm on Liam’s shoulder, leaning down to kiss and murmur against his neck, “But I think you’re gonna have to relax a bit more before we go in there, Lee…” His lips captured Liam’s as they moved in a slow, licentious dance together.

Maxwell took another hit off of the vape. He was past the point of feeling awkward in front of the two lovers now but being high didn’t do wonders for his tact. “Hey,” he called out to them from across the bench, “So, who’s the top and who’s the bottom?”

Liam broke away from Drake, only slightly incredulous at Maxwell’s question before he answered, “That’s a bit personal, don’t you think?”

“I mean… I think it’s a pretty valid question… considering what we’re about to all do— hey!”

Drake reached over and grabbed the pen from Maxwell to take a drag of his own. “We’re switch, verse. I dunno, whatever you ‘kids’ call it these days.” Liam nodded once silently, looking slightly uncomfortable and trying not to blush. Drake continued, “What about you, Beaumont?”

“Kid?” His nervous laughter belied more than the incredulity of someone less than a year older than him calling him ‘kid’, “I…I only ‘top’ now… I had a bad experience years ago…” his voice trailed off to almost a whisper.

Liam held his hand out to pause the need for explanation. “You don’t need to elaborate, Maxwell. It’s good that we’re being open about this though.”

“Yeah… I—” Maxwell felt his iWatch vibrate with the text notification scrolling across the tiny screen from Tabitha:

Tabitha 👑🌸

Babe! It’s time! Where r u boys? Don’t make me come in there!! 😘😘😘

Saved by the buzz.

............

TO BE CONTINUED !!!

Thanks so much for continuing to read and for all of the feedback, reblogs and support <3 :)

*OTR Tag List:

@bobasheebaby @indiacater @brightpinkpeppercorn @ritachacha @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @kate-mckenzie @queen-among-writers @itsbrindleybinch @ao719 @cosigottahavefaith @choiceslife @brightpinkpeppercorn @alj4890 @jovialyouthmusic @be-still-my-aching-heart @basiclatinagirl @sirbeepsalot @emichelle @average-sunflower @furiousherringoperatortoad @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @thegingerwithcurlyfries @dianalend @broxanneq @rhymesmenagerie @carabeth @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @writinghereandthere @majesticegg @donutsgirl36 @beaumontypython @lauraj217 @sofiakenobi @rainbowsinthestorm @dcbbw @debramcg1106 @fumikechu

#off the record #otr part 10 #trr fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices trh #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #king liam #liam x drake x mc x maxwell #maxwell x mc #drake x mc #drake x liam #driam #tabitha carlisle #jo fics #ongoing fic

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dawnwriterimagines · 5 years

Text

Never Again: Thomas Hewitt (Part 2)

The erratic sound of the chainsaw rang through your ears and echoed throughout your body as Thomas stepped in front of you, blocking the boy from your path before charging angrily at the cowering victim. Thomas let out a rage filled growl, his voice sounding more animalistic then human as the boy fearfully cried out as he bolted from the door and out the side window, cutting himself on the broken glass on the sill on the way. His painful cry could be heard outside.

But, yours could be heard inside. Thomas turned, his attention diverted, his eyes instantly softening as his grip on his saw loosens. "No, thomas," Charlie warned, "You get out there and you finish that boy like you were supposed too! Just hurry back so we can take 'er upstairs." Charlie said before turning around and going to the bathrooms for the first aid. Thomas shook, his eyes glancing down from where you laid, back to the open door where he could see the victim limping across the field. He couldn't look at you as he left to trail his victim, eagerly running to slice him to bits.

You shook in Luda Mae's arm's, your back spasm in ever few seconds in agony although you could hardly feel anything but a repetitive stinging sensation. There was a white hot pain that enveloped you and faded before repeating itself, you'd gasp, your hand wrapping around Luda's in a pleading motion. Luda nodded her head, teary-eyed, both her hands on both sides of your face, "It's alright, you're gonna be alright, Charlies fetching the-the supplies," Luda said hurriedly, her right hand trailed behind your back and slapped against the wound quickly to stop the blood, flinching sadly as she expected you to scream. Surprised to only hear the small intake of air, that seemed to be your only reaction, she used her free hand to rub her thumbs across across your tear streaked face, your eye's seemed to be staring at nothing.

Your breathing was harsh and you took rapid breath's but, your eye's couldn't focus as the pain shot through you every few seconds. Charlie finally came up, Monty rolling down the hallway with a roll of gauze in his hand, "Oh, no," he whispered sadly, giving the gauze to Luda who took it hurriedly.

"Don't say that," Luda scolded quickly, "she gonna be alright, my baby..." she sobbed shakily as she turned you onto your side with charlie, into her arm before wrapping your wound with shaking hands as she noticed the blood coating her hands and the floor. "My baby gonna be alright."

Charlie rubbed your back in circles, leaning down beside you, knowing the feeling you were going through to an extent, "Hang in there, (y/n)," he noted the way your eye's mindlessly lifted to look at him, "You gonna be alrigh' you in family hands, remember that." His hand briefly stroked your cheek before his frown deepened in rage and he burst to his feet, grabbing the shotgun. "Boy, betta pray Thomas gets 'em befor' I do." He opened the front door, watching as Thomas chased down the boy running rampant through the fields.

"T-Tommy..." you whimpered, your hand outstretched towards the open doorway, Luda grabbed your wrist gently, rubbing your palm comfortingly.

"It's ok, he's fine," she comforted as you relaxed slightly, your body shaking unconsciously, "He'll be here soon to get you on upstairs so we can fix you up."

Luda dabbed the wet cloth Uncle Monty had grabbed from the kitchen, the sensation calmed you slightly as your eye's peered upwards towards the looming face of Luda Mae. Your vision was swimming, as if you were underwater unable to get a clear picture in front of you, it came out blurry and you struggled to focus.

Monty rolled next to you, his cane over his waist as he leaned forwards, over his amputated legs, in order to try to comfort you in the slightest. He tried to not to look at the blood pooling from your backside that his own wheels had made bloody tracks through. "You never finished that book we was readin', you fell asleep on ma' lap halfway and I had to read that all by ma'self," your eye's drifted up to him, away from the doorway, his eyes brightened slightly as he found the corners of you lips lifting upwards. His eyes stung, "How about later, you and me, we finish it and I hear that it's a movie now, I know how you be likin' your shows, girl." He forced a chuckle out, and he swallowed back a sob as you smiled your best, your eye's gleeful despite the absence of light within them.

"I-I'll...I'll hold you t-to that." You gasped out, your hint of a smile dampening slowly.

Monty nodded, breathing out a small laugh, developing slowly into a pained choke. Luda's free hand enveloped his own, smiling gratefully as your eyes fluttered once more as you slipped in and out of consciousness. Luda noticed quickly, both her hands hurriedly coming to cup your face in her hands, as you blinked mindlessly, your eye's rolling back in exhaustion.

"(Y/n), honey, you wake up now," Luda coaxed, patting your cheek lightly, "Can't have you sleepin', not yet," you watched as she raised her head towards the door shouting for Charlie, her eyes blistering with tears as someone emerged from the doorway.

The room soon began to shift as if you were moving, you couldn't hear anything, your body felt numb as they hung limply in the person's arm's. You blinked, the stairs coming into your line of vision with your head laid on Thomas's chest, his arm's encapsulating you. You look up at him, his eyes finding yours in an instant as he climbed the stairs and into the bedroom, setting you down as the others rush into the room.

His hands were shaking as his hands remained stained with your blood, he sucked in a heavy breath through his mask, he reached for your face, drained of blood. His harsh breathing coaxed you to comfort him as he let out an agonizing sound, but you couldn't move. Luda Mae was coming to your side with a few medical supplies, Thomas followed her instructions to turn you over onto your belly.

Thomas went to his knees at your bedside, your head turned to the side so you could breathe, he stroked your hair comfortingly as he kept his eye's on yours. You stared at him for a moment as if you couldn't recognize him and he pressed his chin into the bed sadly, whimpering as he proceeded to wipe the drying tears from your eye's. Just as your vision begins to clear as you stare down your love, you feel as excruciating pain run through you, you're going wide as you take in a harsh intake of air into a silent scream. Thomas jumps up, finding you squirming in Luda's grasp before being told to pin you down by Luda Mae, he places his hands on your shoulder's holding you down as your scream finally fills the air.

Thomas can't hold the, barely suppressed, tears that are suddenly streaming down his face as he tries his best to calm you as Luda Mae begins to stitch your wound together. As she punctures and pulls the raw skin back into place, you pant in agony as your fingers knot in the sheets as your bury your screams into the pillow.

"Tommy, please," you cry, Thomas stiffens, squeezing his eye's shut, "make it stop!" He nearly relents until he reminds himself that it's for you to feel better, to get better. You could hit him all you wanted later, he deserved that, but he needed for you to be ok.

"I'm almost done, hon', you're doing so good," Luda tries to comfort you but, you can hardly hear her as you squeeze your eye's shut, the only thing going through your ears was the ripping and pulling sensation vibrating through your entire being. "Just a few more to go, dearie, you're ok, you're gonna be ok." She makes the finishing stitches but by that time, you're already silent, going still after the last dozen of stitches. Luda's expression softens sadly, her hand dabbing at the stitched wound with the bloodied rag, "Oh, hon," she whispers before glancing at Thomas sadly before nodding. She proceeded to wrap a few layers of gauze around your waist.

Thomas let's you go, his eyes widening at your silence before kneeling down, right in front of your face once more before noticing the slow rise and fall of your shoulder's. He leaned his forehead against the edge of the mattress in relief before his hand comes up to swipe your hair from your face. Your body relaxing as the pain subsides within you, Thomas was just happy to see you were better. He presses his forehead into yours before keeping himself there, listening and feeling your soft breathing against him, he never wanted to see you in pain ever again. He craved the moment you awoke so he could tell you just how sorry he was and how much he loved you, if not with the words he couldn't say, then the touches he knew you could feel.

"Boy!" Thomas tenses at the sudden shout from Charlie, the sheriff stood in the doorway the hallway light silhouettes his stern figure on the wall at the side of the bed. Luda jumps beside him, before placing a comforting hand on her son's shoulder as Thomas slowly rises to his feet.

He turned around and glanced at Charlie before walking towards him, slowly, "Stop out this room here, let then girl get some shut eye," Charlie stepped behind Thomas and closed the door shut with Luda inside behind him. Thomas looked back at the closed door, he couldn't help but begin stepping back towards the door to open it, "ey, boy! Keep yur hands off this door until we're done, now," Thomas reluctantly pulls away from the handle and drops his head as Charlie begins, his rifle still in his hand with the end of the weapon dripping blood from its latest victim. "What in the hell happened here, huh? How did you let that little stowaway get past ya?"

Thomas shook his head, shamefully unaware of just how he had caused the victim to slip away. He remembered how he had turned his back for a second, after cutting at parts of the victims face, he needed a new knife. But, then, he heard a loud clanging and all of a sudden the boy was free and he was knocking down the table with his chainsaw, blocking him from the stairwell.

"Well, ya betta think long and hard Tommy, this fucking mess is because a you now," Charlie frowned, straightening as he glanced back at the door he had closed. Thomas frowned sadly, nodding weakly, "I don't wanna see no more god damn accidents like this, ya here?" Thomas glanced jaw ares before nodding in compliance, "Ya know what'll happen if you let some damn animal loose again? They go after the smaller ones, like our little (y/n), who got hurt because of ya, next time, she may not be so lucky," Charlie knew that would get Thomas going as his head instantly perked up at the mention of you before whimpering and letting a small groan loose in denial. "I don't want her hurtin' neither, I get it Tom, but if you don't step it up, guess who's gonna be payin' the price." He tapped the door you were held in with the butt of his gun.

Thomas nodded in understanding, his eyes filled with the determination to protect you even more so. Swearing to himself he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. No victims would ever make it past him again.

Charlie nodded at him, "Alright, now you go inside, give 'er a nice lil' pat from Uncle Charlie," he took a cigarette from his sheriff belt, Thomas didn't respond as he opened the door once more and dropped right beside you once more. Monty had made it into the room, his hand over your opossite one as he read his book, the book you were finishing together, at the beginning.

Thomas brought your limp hand up to his face, resting the palm against his forehead as he closed his eyes before dropping it slowly and pressing his lips onto your soft skin. "(Y-y/n)..." it was quiet, hoarse from lack of use, but not even Monty had heard him. He waited beside you, Luda Mae leaving the room after kissing you goodnight and giving Thomas a firm embrace from behind that he responded to with a appreciative sigh, his hand resting on her wrist around his neck. Monty left soon after, patting Thomas on the shoulder and wheeling out the door.

You and him were the only ones left as everyone else settled in for the night, you had turned on your side in the middle of the night, wincing quite often but, Thomas helped you onto your side as you slept. Thomas crossed over to the other side of the bed, which you were facing and found your fingers had looped around the sheets of the opposite space beside you. Unconsciously, you reached for him in your sleep, only to find nothing but an empty blanket.

Thomas's shoulders slackened before he shook his head, grabbing a handful of the blankets, he draped it over you before leaning over the bed and planting a loving kiss over your still lips. He then pulls away and hesitantly makes his way out of the room, absent-mindedly making his way down the stairs and through the front door. Heading out to the open fields where he had left the body of the boy that had hurt you.

At the thought, he moved faster, eager to rip the boys limbs to shred with his own bare hands. Finding the gasping, gurgles of the male, he realized he hadn't killed him yet, the boys eyes fearfully found his. His right arm was severed horrendously by the chainsaw, his left leg was barely attached having been hacked into, the limb was hanging by threads of torn skin and muscle. His jaw was punctured by the hook he had left in the fields, his eyes blinking back blood dripping into his eyes from his jawline.

"P-please..." was all he could say, the hook moving with his lips.

Thomas wasn't prone to mercy at the moment, instead the hook was the first thing he reached for, the male screamed in absolute agony as he was dragged towards the house by his already mutilated jaw.

Unable to move fully, the boy posed as no threat to the bulk of his captor, Thomas grabbed him by his good arm and yanked him to the metal door where he would continue the slaughter. With one last gurgled cry, the boy was shoved backwards and down the steps.

Thomas slid the door closed behind him, his hands balling up at the thought of what he would unleash upon the dying man.

He would never be able to hurt you again.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre imagine #thomas x you #angst #chainsaw part 2 #chainsaw part

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every1studio · 6 years

Text

“wow” [stray kids]

genre: FLUFF + comedy + reverse harem

ficstyle: #whatwouldtheydo/reactions + bulletpoints + storyline + LONG

prompt: based on this photo / how would Stray Kids check you out?

note: xxx hope you like this~

You took a deep breathe; here you are entering JYP Academy as a new transfer student. You were never big on finding love or developing crushes since your main focus was studying.. So the main idea was to focus on your studies.. but somehow 9 popular boys of the school were going to focus on you...

WOOJIN

he sees you walking in the hallways

most likely to the teacher’s office

but you were definitely lost

Woojin noticed you from the entrance of the school since he is the president of the student body

(are they new? they’re so good looking...)

he wasn’t following you... he’d tell himself

he was just walking in the “same” direction as you

you heard another set of footsteps and stopped

you turned to see who was behind you

Woojin did a terrible job at hiding himself

“can I help you?” your soft voice echoed

“uh.. I was wondering if you want help..”

“what?”

“I’m Woojin the president of the student body.. you look.. lost?”

you were trying to wrap your head around the fact that this boy was following you because you were..lost?

“uh yeah... trying to find the teacher’s office...”

he quietly slid into the shadows of the corner so you took it as he was going to show you where it was

Woojin starts walking towards the office as his face is beaming red

(THEIR EYES OH GOSH THEIR EYES ARE SO MESMERIZING!!!)

“he-here it is..” he announced softly

you looked at the sign that read “Teacher’s Office” and you turned to look at him

“thank-”

but he was gone

CHAN

you entered the teacher’s office

and the first thing you saw...

was a young lad swirling his arms around in happiness

“congratulations on getting that scholarship, Chan~”

he stops to nod his head to bow as a thanks to his teacher

when he looks up, he sees you

“whoa..”

he didn’t mean to say that out loud

his teacher looks at what he’s looking at

“oh.. you must be y/n, the new student?”

you nodded

the teacher gestured you over

Chan was watching your every movement

(yo... how can someone be this good looking...)

“Chan? Chan!”

he looks back at his teacher

everyone just caught him checking you out

“you have the same class as y/n.. would you please bring them to the homeroom? I need to pick up from prints..”

Chan nodded and showed you the way to the classroom

“here we are~”

MINHO (LEEKNOW)

...

silence filled the room as Chan opened the door for you

“this is y/n.. they’re the new student, let’s welcome them..”

the first person to welcome you was Minho

he had a smug look on his face

as he eyed you up and down

(he looks like those typical bad boys..)

“aye shawty you’re quite a looker.. I’m Minho, wanna be my seatmate?”

(definitely a bad boy..)

“what makes you think I want to sit next to you?”

he smiled at your sassiness

“because I’m good looking? good looking people should sit by each other..”

you scoffed

“thanks, but I’ll pass on that offer..”

lots of girls in the class glared at you

in that small time frame, you realized that he was probably the school’s heartthrob and that he had a lot of fans/girls following him

“save that seat for someone who wants to sit there..” you mumbled

Minho smirks at your comment, “it’s always open for you, sweetie~”

CHANGBIN

“Minho, leave em alone...”

you thought this other guy was another “bad boy”

“sorry.. he doesn’t know when to stop...”

(Minho’s always like this... I hope he doesn’t scare them away or I won’t get a chance... they’re so pretty/handsome...)

you were surprised that he was so polite about it

he looked a little more reserved and dark

but he was actually soft with his words and actions

“it’s okay..”

he smiles softly as the window’s curtains blows into the classroom

“I’m Changbin..”

you were slightly flustered by how cute he was

“n-nice to meet you...”

the wind blew in some flower petals into your hair

he reaches over

“excuse me..”

he carefully picks the petals out of your hair

Changbin realized how close he was to you

“if you ever need my help.. I’ll be in my seat...”

he says as he averts his attention away from you

“HYUNG!!”

HYUNJIN

some guy entered the classroom

“HYUNG!!”

you turned to see a taller, full lips guy yell for his upperclassmen friends

he immediately stopped in his tracks

the first thing he noticed when he walked in was your backside

and when you turned away

the main OST from “My Love from Another Star” played in his head

(how can someone look so perfect?)

a smile crept onto his face

as his hyungs would wave their hands in his face

“I mean.. we all know that the new student is a cutie but like Hyunjin, can you not?” Minho said from his seat as he leaned back into it

“Minho you should be the last person to say anything like that to y/n....” Chan announced

you just wanted to sit down

so you eyed around the class for an empty seat away from commotion

you walked towards the seat in the back near the windows

but one of the female classmates stuck her foot out

you noticed it last minute so you tripped on it

Hyunjin grabbed your arm and pulled you back

you landed in his arms

your eyes widened as you fell into his chest

giving him full access of your deep eyes

he was mesmerized

“so-sorry...” he helps your straightened up

“it-it’s okay...” you mumbled out of embarrassment as you wanted into your seat

the bell rang for class to start and you were ready to get out of the spotlight and focus on school

JISUNG (HAN)

it was lunch time and he had to bring some handouts to his hyungs’ classroom

he walked past the windows of your class

straight away he notices you

because you slid the door open to face him

causing him to drop the handouts

“oh my gosh!! I’m so sorry...”

you didn’t even look at him

since you were busy picking up the handouts

he was just gaping at you

(WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW VISUALS!! I STAN VISUALS!!)

then he realized that you did most of the work as he was just squatting there

he reaches out for the last couple of handouts

on the very last one, both of your hands touch each other

“o-oh s-so-so-s-sorrry an-and th-than-thank you-”

he gets up and rushes into your class

you were just on your way to use the restroom as you hear the boy’s voice echo into the hallway

“WHO WAS THAT? THEY ARE SO..WOW! I ALMOST DIED WHEN I MADE EYE CONTACT WITH THEM!”

you were just blank faced the whole time

(man is this tiring or what...)

FELIX

after you dried your hands, you exited the restroom

there were a flock of girls surrounding the guys restroom; waiting for someone

their neckties indicated that they were a grade below you

“I SAW FELIX LEAVE OUT THE WINDOW OF THE BATHROOM SO THAT MEANS HE’S IN THE COURTYARD!!” someone called out to the group

at that moment, the flock of girls rushed to where the courtyard was

you heard a “pst” behind you

“pst.. are they gone?”

you turned to the guy’s restroom to see a blonde hair boy

you looked around again

then turned back to him and nodded

the boy sighs in relief

“thank you so much.. I didn’t even get to dry my hands...all the paper towel was gone and I couldn’t find paper towel with a flock of classmates..”

you looked at his hands that were dripping with the sink’s water

you reached into your pocket and took out your handkerchief

“I only use this when there’s no more paper towel.. you can use it..”

he finally takes the time to look at you

word has it; he heard about the new beauty of the school

he’s never seen you around and he knew that he would notice you somehow if you did

“h-how am I gonna return it to you..”

you didn’t want to deal with his “classmates;” since they were a little obsessive over this guy

“you can keep it.. I can just get another one.. have a nice day..”

you nodded as he nodded back

he runs his fingers over your embroidered name on your handkerchief

“y/n, huh?” he smiles as he dries his hands with it

SEUNGMIN

it was PE; another class was using the baseball field

your ears felt like they wanted to bleed due to the girls from the other class screeching over a homerun

you looked over to see a reddish-hair boy running through all three bases and sliding onto home base

“Seungmin, he’s such a cutie~ and he’s really good at baseball~”

you heard gossiping from your classmates

your class was doing tennis; which held place in the courts next to the baseball field

you decided to by singles since you were the odd one out; without a partner

“I’ll be your partner~” Minho offered

“no thanks..” you said coldly but softly

you threw the ball onto the ground a couple of times

when you started playing, you gathered lots of attention from both classes

“oohhh~”

Hyunjin taps on Seungmin’s shoulder as they were taking a break

“have you seen them? the transfer student beauty.. I didn’t know they were athletic either...”

Seungmin looks over and sees you winning while playing against two people

“that must be hard...” Seungmin mumbles as he is intrigued with you

the way you played tennis made his heart flutter

(how can someone look so good sweating in PE...)

the person you were playing against swatted the ball overhead and out of bounds rolling into the baseball field

it stopped in front of Seungmin’s feet

he grabs it and jogs over the tennis court

the only thing that separated the field and the court was a thick net

you ran over to get the ball

“thanks,” you said as you brushed your hand over his to get the ball

you wiped your sweat before heading back to the game

he grabs his heart

(no.. thank you...)

JEONGIN (I.N)

it was the end of the day finally

you wanted to check out the clubs before heading home

even though you wanted to focus on your studies, your parents wanted you to have a high school experience

immediately after leaving your homeroom, you were bombarded with sport clubs

“you have a good built for basketball!”

“no! did you see them? they were made for tennis!!”

“I bet they’re secretly a volleyball player..”

you didn’t want to be physically exhausted since you were already mentally exhausted from school

“I’ll think about it,” you mumbled, knowing that you won’t join the club at all

you started to walk around school; in hopes of finding a club that you liked

you passed a light rock band club

“Jeongin.. you’re good at singing but... something feels empty.. maybe because our bassist already graduated..” you heard

you knocked the door of the club

“I heard.. you guys needed a bassist?”

Jeongin looked up to see someone so beautiful, he dropped the mic

causing feedback to stab everyone’s ears

“so-sorry!!”

he picks it up and dusts it off; trying not to smile stupidly in front of a beauty

there was the blonde guy you saw earlier at the drums, Chan, from your class, at the keyboard, the president of the student body with a mic/acoustic guitar and the clumsy guy that had the handouts at the electric guitar

“oh y/n! I thought you’d be more into sports..” Woojin said

Jeongin looks at Woojin

(he knows them?)

“let’s test how good you are at everything, huh? you have a bass?” Chan says without making eye contact with you

honestly no one was able to make eye contact with you; but they kept sneaking in looks at you

“I’m not good at everything... I just..like to experiment a lot so I try out everything I can get my hands on...” you softly spoke, “I didn’t bring my bass...”

Jeongin gets up and walks to the music room’s closet

he hands you a case

“it..it’s my dad’s bass...”

you looked down as you opened the case.. it was a beautiful Rickenbacker 4003w Walnut

you tuned it a little and started playing it a little

Jeongin was sending you heart eyes

(literal perfection) is what he kept on saying in his head as he admired you

“you’re in...” he says

Honestly this school was a little hectic.. but hopefully.. you’ll be able to enjoy your school year at JYP Academy.

END + [MASTERLIST]

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spmcomic · 6 years

Photo

Nastasia jerked around at the sound. Even O’Chunks had heard it clearly. He watched her drop the spoon into the pan and, despite his complaints, immediately rush over to the Count. He leaned too far forward to pull the pan off the fire and nearly lost his balance when he spun to join Nastasia by the Count.

“Sir, what’s wrong?” She was asking. O’Chunks sat across from her with a heavy thud. The Count flinched a few seconds later. He was staring at nothing, slumped over, head bowed. No good.

“’E’s not awake, Nassy,” O’Chunks started, his voice low. Damage control first- Nastasia was easier to calm down. He doubted the Count even heard them. “I don’t think ‘e really knows what ‘e’s sayin’.” Nastasia turned toward him, a deep frown furrowing its way into her brow. Be patient, he told himself, however she takes it.

“He’ll snap out of it.” Nastasia insisted. O’Chunks resisted the sigh bubbling up his throat. “He has to. We just have to help him.”

O’Chunks settled his weight forward, resting on his palm. “How d’yeh want to try, Nassy?”

“Count Bleck is stupid. Count Bleck is worthless,” the Count muttered. His breathing was even more ragged than usual. O’Chunks put the back of his fingers to the Count’s head. It was wet and hot. He figured. He wiped his knuckles on his shirt.

Nastasia took a rattled breath. “Um… You… He’ll listen to you. Tell him one of those stories.”

O’Chunks hesitated, then rested his hand on the Count’s shoulder. “’Ey, Count, d’yeh want to hear somethin’ interesting?” He offered.

The Count didn’t even blink. “Unhand Count Bleck,” he said tonelessly. O’Chunks let his hand drop.

O’Chunks glanced at Nastasia. “’E usually at least closes his book… Should I take it?”

“Absolutely not,” Nastasia’s reply was sharp as knives. “He needs it.”

“Count Bleck is evil,” the Count continued, eyes fixed on a spot O’Chunks was pretty sure was under the ground. “Count Bleck will do as he’s told without comment or fuss or delay.”

O’Chunks rubbed his chin hairs, then tugged on them thoughtfully. “I don’t think… Nassy, this book isn’t a very nice set o’directions. Are yeh certain its prophecy will do good?”

Nastasia opened her mouth to respond, but the Count interrupted with what sounded like a hiss. “No,” he quickly added. “The Prognosticus is correct and right. Count Bleck is a pathetic layabout who must be convinced to do the right thing. Without the Prognosticus’ guidance, all Count Bleck can ever do is bring shame to his tribe.”

O’Chunks grunted. He watched Nastasia’s face fall as the Count spoke. She looked up at him.

“Do you really think… He doesn’t know what he’s saying…? About himself?”

Honesty or kindness…? Would she catch him if he lied? He tugged harder at his beard. She would. “I still don’t think he’s awake at all, Nassy. Should we try something else, or leave ‘im to it? Yeh left our dinner sittin’ cold… ‘E might need food. I know I’m hungry for that, ehhh, stir fry yeh got goin’.”

In desperation, Nastasia wrapped her fist around one of the Count’s lapels- “unhand Count Bleck”- and pulled him down a little closer. O’Chunks saw her mouth move, but his tired ears couldn’t pick up the sound. His tired eye, however, did pick up the Count’s confused blink and the quick twitch of his good ear. He took his cue.

“Don’t worry, Nassy. Our Blecky-boy will pull through…” He stopped and smirked when the Count jerked as if he’d been pinched and glared at O’Chunks. “… if we keep our heads up and stay organized.”

Nastasia’s mouth thinned into a narrow line. “I do say that…”

“’The general’s nonsensical games will not distract Count Bleck,’ sneered Count Bleck,” he mumbled, unable to pull out of his funk.

“Glad you like ‘em,” O’Chunks responded without thinking. Nastasia huffed.

“Well, I’m not giving up. What else have we tried that works?” She had hunched her shoulders to brace herself. Did she expect him to argue with her? Arguing with her wasn’t going to get dinner finished any faster.

He grunted as he started to think. But the Count seemed to have become agitated. He hadn’t moved, but his breath had taken on an edge that O’Chunks could just barely hear. Nastasia returned her full attention to the Count.

“Get up,” he tried to snarl, but his voice was too weak. “Stop loafing about. Count Bleck must move on to the next world.”

Before he could try to reach for his wand, and before Nastasia could say anything, O’Chunks wrapped his long arms around the Count and Nastasia, pressing both of them against his stomach and trapping the Count.

“Unhand Count Bleck.”

“Wha-!”

“We’re not leaving today!” O’Chunks growled. “I just got the tent set up. We ‘aven’t even finished making dinner yet.”

“O’Chunks!” Nastasia kicked her leg impotently. “Let him do what he wants.”

“Unhand Count Bleck.”

“Nassy, I don’t think ‘e can leave,” O’Chunks sat back, still carrying both of them. “Too sick. What if we land somewhere dangerous?”

Nastasia went silent. He couldn’t see her past the Count’s lolling head. He waited until the Count broken-recorded his line twice more.

“Yeh can’t jus’ let ‘im do whatever, Nassy. We ‘ave t’take care of ourselves. Wandering about lost in the woods all th’time is dangerous. We cannae afford to get this sick.” The Count’s elbow blade was jutting awkwardly against O’Chunks’ arm. The cape softened the poke, but he really needed to shift them around… would Nastasia listen?

He waited a little longer. It was a little unsettling to notice that the Count complained once exactly every thirteen seconds. At least he was running out of energy. He was getting quieter. But O’Chunks was letting himself get distracted. He had to listen carefully for Nastasia’s voice or he was going to miss it, especially under the broken-record chorus.

“Fine.” There it was. He lowered the two of them until Nastasia’s feet could touch the ground, but didn’t let go for fear the Count would actually try to get to his bag. They had already had to leave behind O’Chunks’ flashlight once before, in order to catch him when he opened a portal unexpectedly.

“Unhand Count Bleck,” the Count mumbled, barely audible, barely managing his t’s and k’s.

“I know yeh don’t get sick, Nassy, but th’Count’s health ‘as been really bad the whole time I’ve been with yeh,” he said softly. “Did yeh really just hop around willy-nilly for days on end like he keeps tryin’?”

He felt Nastasia’s weight shift. She must have looked away. “… The Count makes those calls,” he could practically feel her a ’quiver back there. Of course she’d be upset. “Yeah, it’s his quest, not mine.”

“Not both o’yours…?”

“Unhand Count Bleck.”

“He’s the boss.” He felt a shift in her weight again, so he lowered the two so Nastasia could sit down. The Count slumped forward against his arm. At least he wasn’t heavy.

O’Chunks tilted his head. It was easier to see Nastasia with the Count’s head out of the way. “D’yeh think he thinks of it that way?”

She stiffened, and then turned her head carefully toward the ground.

“Unhand Count Bleck.”

“Yeh be quiet,” O’Chunks said. He saw the corner of Nastasia’s mouth just barely twitch upward for a second. “What d’yeh think, Nassy?” he pressed.

She frowned. “… I… don’t know what to think,” she admitted.

“Yeh know what I think?”

“What’s that.”

He adjusted his arm and shifted the Count, trying to get more comfortable. “I think yeh could try t’help yer friend get back on ‘is feet an’ ask ‘im whose journey this is.” He perhaps didn’t know the Count- or whoever he had been- well enough to just assume what the answer would be, but he had a feeling. Loyalty- devotion- like Nastasia’s didn’t spring up without respect or care. Whatever had happened to him, the Count had clearly been giving Nastasia something she sorely needed while he was well. And O’Chunks would bet a basket of the flakiest biscuits it was something like friendship.

Thinking about biscuits was making him hungry again. But he really didn’t trust the Count to not start up again once he let go. The Count’s book was stuck under O’Chunks’ backside for the time being, but he figured the moment it was within his sights, the Count would start trying to get up and go again. Or, just as bad, become very frustrated about not getting up and going.

He almost missed it. But he heard, or thought he heard, Nastasia’s quiet sniff. She was still turned so he couldn’t see her face well, so he couldn’t be sure. But… there it was again.

“Oh, you two,” he sighed. He pulled them both closer. Both of them needed a lot of very big hugs. He didn’t think he could ever give them as many as they needed.

“Unhand Count Bleck,” he started up weakly again.

Nastasia took a deep breath and leaned her head back against the Count’s shoulder. She turned her head upward, watching the cloud of trailing smoke from their cooking fire drift upward and blot out small patches of stars.

“Unhand Count Bleck…”

O’Chunks thought about how they could salvage the, er, “stir fry” he’d been watching Nastasia butcher. He could probably handle the rest of the cooking tonight and put her on dish duty again. They all needed to have basic survival skills, but… he hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be for someone who didn’t eat food to learn to cook. At least twenty years ago, now, she’d said when he asked. Yeah, that was the last time I ate. I don’t miss it.

“… Unhand…”

The Count went quiet.

He looked the Count over with a mild curiosity. He seemed like he’d actually fallen asleep, without either of them telling him to. Was it progress, or was he just that exhausted?

“Think I can let go now, Nassy?”

“… Yeah. Yeah, ‘k, let’s get back to work.”

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#spm #super paper mario #o'chunks #nastasia #count bleck #i think blue heard a lot more of that conversation than o'chunks thinks he did #arc 4

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peterjonesparker · 6 years

Text

lmaoo, hello, i’m back. i’ve loved all the suggestions i’ve gotten for this story and am gonna try to actually plan it out more concretely and hopefully that’ll mean i can write more consistently. but who knows? college is the fucking worst! anyway, have chapter three!

before i forget, gotta tag some lovely people: @spideychelle-romanogers, @aqhrodites, @redpanthers, @suplosers, @bellamywarriorblake, @daisypeterparker (like the new url!!), @spideychelleforever, and @ritebeforeyoureyes! if you’ve asked me to tag you in the past and i’ve forgotten, i’m sorry :o please let me know!

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

chapter 3: "we've always been good at overachieving, mj" (ao3 link)

It’s fitting that Friday is stormy and rainy and all around gloomy. Michelle’s just had the worst college week of her life. She’d been out of town the weekend before to go to her older brother’s wedding. Now, her family goes all out when it comes to weddings or parties in general. (Read: dancing, drinking, shouting the lyrics to songs from the 1970s that everyone’s heard a thousand times.) So, needless to say, Michelle did absolutely none of the work she needed to do over the weekend. Come Monday night when she got back to Boston from San Francisco (she was in the middle seat and there were two crying babies on the plane), she went immediately to bed. She then proceeded to underestimate how much time her work would take: one problem set that took six hours, two essays that each took four, a reading response that took two, and a quiz that required three hours of studying (which is maybe for the class she’s failing, but, you know, physics is the worst so it’s fine).

Therefore, when she comes home Friday night after a day of classes, with a total of twelve hours of sleep over the last three days, she feels broken down. Walking home as it thundered and poured, she’d started crying, thankful for the rain masking her tears from other pedestrians. In her apartment, shielded from the wet cold day, she doesn’t have the same excuse. Which is why Peter perks up at the sound of the door opening and immediately scrunches his eyebrows together in concern. “MJ, what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t say anything. She just walks straight to her room and lies down in her bed, still clothed in her wet jeans and oversized t-shirt. She cries quietly, tears leaking out of her eyes slowly. She’s still stressed and anxious so she doesn’t sleep. Her exhaustion simply hangs over her, foreboding and all-encompassing. She curls in on herself and remains that way for what feels like an eternity.

Then, there’s a light knock at the door. She stretches out and swings her legs over the bed, feet dragging on the floor as she makes her way to her door. It’s Peter, obviously. He looks worried. Perhaps because of her red, watery eyes or the fact that she’s shivering a bit because her pants are now cold and stuck to her legs. He bites the inside of his lip and gently extends his hand toward her, slip of paper in his palm.

She sighs because as much as she loves Peter, the last thing she wants to do is give him sexual favors. But the coupon reads:

This coupon is good for one night of cuddling.

She laughs despite herself, shoulders shaking as more tears fall. Her walks in and envelops her in his arms. She feels small in his arms, even though she’s a good two inches taller than him. He slowly walks them back toward the bed and they topple onto it. He pulls her backside to his front and brings her fluffy beige blanket over them. His arms hold her middle to him and he tucks his legs into hers. “Hold on,” she says quietly, slowly detangling herself from him so that she can stand. She drags the jeans down her legs, and they fight her at each point. She almost trips pulling the pant legs off her feet. Peter has the decency to hide his laugh. Then she’s back in the bed, under the blanket, enveloped with Peter’s warmth.

His warm, steady breaths against her cheek are comforting. Her heart still races for a long while, but he just holds her tight against him. It’s nice. She lets the tears continue to leak out of her eyes and Peter squeezes her and kisses her cheek every so often. After what she guesses is an hour, she turns over so that she’s hugging him instead. He kisses her hair. Then, her forehead. Her cheek, her nose, her ear, all over her face. She looks up at him, and he smiles, gently leaning toward her and planting a gentle kiss on her mouth. It’s tender, sweet, everything MJ thinks she needs right now.

She runs her hands through his hair, which is slightly damp from the torrential downpour outside. He gets overly excited and squeezes her tightly against his body, almost hurting her. She laughs when he pulls back, blushing and apologetic. She sighs and says, “shut up, you loser,” before pulling him back toward her. He rolls over a bit so that his body is pressing hers into the mattress, and it feels a bit like when he was holding her in his arms.

The kisses never get too frantic, though. They’re slow, languid, affirming. They continue like that for a long while. Roaming hands, lips dragged against cheeks and necks and ears, soft sighs breathed out. At some point, Michelle chuckles and smiles into the kiss. “Last time I checked, the cuddle coupon didn’t involve making out, Parker.”

He smiles and drags his lips across her cheek to her ear. “We’ve always been good at overachieving, MJ.” He punches him lightly in the shoulder, but he ducks down and latches his lips onto her clavicle. Their kisses die down slowly and eventually the two settle into a hug. They fall asleep, even though it’s only eight o’clock.

When she wakes up in the morning, Peter’s turned on his side, facing her. His chest rises steadily with each breath he takes, and the sun bathes his hair in bright golden light. He’s never looked more beautiful, and MJ has never been more royally screwed in her life. She’s in too deep with this boy, and she doesn’t know what she’s going to do when the coupons run out.

“Em, it’s too early to be awake. Go back to bed.” He peeks one eye open and smiles brightly at her.

“Oh hush, you baby.” She sits up and swings her legs over the bed. She stretches her arms above her head and yawns, padding out of the room. “Scrambled eggs will be waiting for you, Sleeping Beauty!”

A groan is the only response he gives and she laughs. She’ll appreciate whatever she can have with Peter. Whatever this is for the time being.

#spiderman homecoming #spiderman: homecoming #spideychelle #michelle jones #peter parker #michelle x peter #peter x michelle #mj x peter #peter x mj #i write things #sh #otp: i'm just kidding i don't care #sex coupon shenanigans #ahh hello #come up for air briefly #gonna go back into the deep end on monday #ooof

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