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keysmashingfantasies · 4 years ago

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An Old Fashioned Meet Cute

A/N: hi! this is my first fic here and i hope you like it. comments and constructive criticism is very much appreciated just please be nice and i tried not to describe nor reader nor the Hilda character too much apart from the fact that they are plus size so it can cater to more people (altough the Hilda character is a white woman originally, I left that out because I wanted everyone to be able to read it) :D. and a huge thank you to @divine-mistake for encouraging me to make this blog and post my fics. ily Tay <3, this one's for you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!plus size Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Bucky didn’t remember much of his life before the war. Not as much as he would like, anyway. But he was content to at least have remembered something. The memories of his teenage shenanigans with Steve always made him laugh. But there was a memory that he didn’t even know it was on his mind until that day when he accompanied Steve to the thrift shop. And until an Avengers party, where he met you.

“Steve, come on… Shouldn’t you be showing me the wonders of the modern world?”, he mocked. He knew Steve was doing his best, he did. But he knew that this wasn’t just a friends’ afternoon. And Bucky didn’t need a babysitter.

“I will! I just thought it would be nice to see something less overwhelming first and Sam told me a thrift store would be a nice place to start. Most of this stuff is new to us anyway”, Steve said, picking up a CD of a shelf.

“Yeah, ok”, he mumbled. The things he did for Steve. He mindlessly wandered through the little cluttered store, browsing the shelves full of knick knacks. He saw vinyls, old books, a great variety of toys, some paintings and an old fashioned vanity, with an old mirror, a few vintage perfume bottles, and… Oh.

“Steve?”, he said, picking up the old calendar that was propped up against the stained mirror. Carefully, he lifted the calendar up, looking at his friend. He had seen it before, he knew he did. He flipped through it as he waited for Steve to make his way across the store, careful to not bump in any of the tables containing delicate porcelain tea pots. His eyes scanned through the cover, a delicately painted picture of a curvy woman and with the saying “HILDA, 1940’s calendar” in bold red letters above it.

“Oh wow”, Steve let out a belly laugh. “You remember when we stole some of these? Man, we even took these to war”, he said. He started to remember. Him and Steve running, each one with a calendar in hand, flipping through the pages, Steve whining that he would never find a girl like that. He didn’t even think twice before taking it to the counter, with Steve giggling like a school girl behind him.

“For the memories, punk”, he said in a stern voice and a frown, but with pink dusted cheeks.

“Of course”, Steve said in a mocking voice.

“So, Tony’s throwing a party next weekend”, Steve said as he entered the training room.

“I prefer the thrift store”, Bucky mumbled, without tearing his eyes from the punching bag.

“Come on, Buck. I think it will be good for you to go”, Steve said. “It will be something small, Tony will introduce the new team assistant, so no eyes will be on you”, that got Bucky’s attention.

“Small?”, he said, pushing his hair from his face.

“Very”, Steve assured, but he had that look that Bucky knew very well from his young years; the look he would get when he was about to pick a fight. He was up to no good. But he didn’t want another trip to a dusty thrift store.

“Yeah, sure”, he mumbled.

You were shaking in your boots. Yeah, you knew that you would work for them, which meant that you inevitably would have to attend this kind of things. But this wasn’t like your former office jobs, no. You work for the Avengers now.

“You can do this. You have to. Do it for the paycheck”, you said, trying to reassure yourself as you shakily applied mascara. As you browsed through your wardrobe, you let out a sigh. You remembered shyly asking for advice on what to wear from Natasha, but you took it with a grain of salt. She could wear a potato sack and still look gorgeous, and you were… Well, a potato. You knew this was another test. If you couldn’t handle all eyes on you and the eventual bickering that was about to happen, you were not fit for the job. But damn, you at least expected a few weeks of taking care of documents and serving coffee before a party. In a room. With the, quoting the tabloid you read that very morning “super team that saves the world and looks hot doing it!”. You were a pretty confident person. But this… Anyone would be nervous.

“You can do this”, you told yourself one more time before heading out.

When you got to the party, not everyone was there. You politely greeted everyone with a nod, and gave your name to the ones you didn’t have the pleasure to meet yet.

“You, pick your poison”, Tony Stark pointed at you while walking to the bar.

“No, thank you, Mr. Stark, I won’t be drinking tonight”, you managed to say, silently thanking all the gods above (even the one that was sitting not too far from you) that you managed to hold back the quiver in your voice.

“She doesn’t want to be vulnerable around us. Smart, I like her”, said Natasha. Sometimes you wonder if she was a telepath like Wanda.

“Is there anything wrong, Y/N? I sense that you are uneasy”, asked Vision, with those glassy unblinking eyes. You wondered if he was in your mind that very moment.

“Gee, I wonder why”, said Rhodes, before taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m okay, just… A bit nervous, that’s all”, you said.

“Well, then you definitely need a drink”, said Tony, handing you a glass of champagne that no doubt cost the same as your previous paycheck.

Soon enough, the awkwardness made way to pleasant conversation. You laughed as you listened to their banter. It wasn’t like any business party you ever attended. No, it was more like a family gathering than anything.

The sounds of the elevator doors opening caught you attention as three men wide as refrigerators walked in, followed closely by a pretty young woman. Of course you knew them. You read all about them. Especially The Winter Soldier, the little devil on your shoulder taunting you by remembering you of every single time you talked to your friend about your crush on him.

“Sorry we’re late guys, Steve went to pick me up before the party and we had dinner”, said the blonde, linking her arm with Steve Rogers himself.

“Nah, Sharon, don’t cover his ass. We were late because the three of us had to wrestle Barnes into changing out of that old ass Henley”, said Sam.

Instantly, Tony and Natasha cheered and raised their glasses, making you laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny”, said a gruff voice coming from the bar, making you turn your head, seeing Bucky Barnes open a beer bottle with his vibranium hand. 'How did he sneak past everyone?', your thoughts were interrupted as you took him in. You wanted to personally thank Sam, Steve and Sharon for making him wear that tight fitting black shirt.

“Well, Y/N, here’s Capsicle, Mrs. Capsicle, New Captain, and Snowflake. Guys, this is Y/N, the new assistant. Oh, and there’s Spider Boy but he’s on curfew, Strange had to hop out of the dimension and Scott but he’s… He’s somewhere out there being small, I don’t know. Watch were you step, just to be safe”, said Tony

“Hi”, you gave a shy wave, being greeted right back.

If it wasn’t for the serum, Bucky is absolutely sure he would have a heart attack on the spot. You were wearing red heels, a form fitting black pencil skirt and a white button up blouse and he could see your curves, your strong arms, your thighs. You looked absolutely amazing. You look like one of the girls that Bucky would’ve rushed to ask for a dance back in the day. But what really made him stare is the fact that your body type looked eerily similar to the character of the calendar he spent an embarrassing amount of time staring.

As your eyes scanned the room as you were bombarded with questions, Bucky made sure to avoid your gaze, looking everywhere but your face: his shoes, the ceiling, the armrest on the couch, Steve’s shit eating grin. Oh. So THAT’S what it was about. Little shit.

Even avoiding your gaze, he made sure to keep his ears open. A man could be interested, right?

By the time the party ended, Thor and Bruce were sleeping, Tony was buzzed walking around singing Iron Maiden, Natasha and Sharon were talking, Steve and Sam were giggling like two school girls, Rhodes went home and Vision and Wanda were talking and looking out the window to the New York skyline.

Which left you – and Bucky – alone.

“Uhhh. I guess I’ll start cleaning, then”, you said. Your face was on fire. The only person that you were sure didn’t like you and you were awkwardly standing, not knowing where to look and what to say. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him but damn it, you were not going to lose this opportunity because of a school girl crush. So you decided to keep yourself occupied by taking some empty glasses and bottles from the table and taking them to the kitchen.

“Oh, come on, Y/N! Let the cleaning crew deal with this in the morning!”, said Natasha.

“No, no, I don’t mind. I like to keep myself busy”, you said with a smile. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. You only hoped she couldn’t see how awkward you were.

“I’ll help”, he said, picking up some glasses and following you.

“You can pick up more of these glasses and I can start washing them”, he said. “I- I noticed you got your nails done, so…”, he said, and you shyly looked away while thanking him and making your way out of the kitchen.

In no time, the room was getting emptier. Vision and Wanda went home and Thor took Banner back to New Asgard. And you were almost done with the dishes, having also gotten rid of most of the empty food containers. As you both cleaned, you and Bucky got a bit more comfortable with each other.

“I’m sorry for seeming a bit standoffish earlier”, he said suddenly. “I’m not used to parties and I don’t know how new people will react to me. Especially pretty women”, you smiled at the compliment, but felt your heart ache. You were so caught up in your insecurities that you didn’t even consider his side of things.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t know how you feel but by what I’ve seen and heard, you have a family here. You’re out there fighting to save the world. Trying your best. This is redemption enough, don’t you think?”, you said as you put the glasses to dry, missing the awestruck look that Bucky sent you, a goofy smile making its way into his features. “Okay, you wait here and I’ll get what’s left”.

You were back in no time. “Okay, so just more two champagne flutes and one plate left”, you said but before you could give the dishes to Bucky, you slipped, and if it wasn’t for Bucky’s reflexes, you would’ve fallen hard. You yelped as the sound of breaking glass hit your ears and for a second you two just stared at each other, before Bucky pulled you closer and back to a standing position.

“Thanks”, you said as he helped you straighten up.

“Your ankle, does it hurt?”, he said.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so”, you said.

“Ah, I think it does. And I can’t let a dame go home alone on a hurt ankle”, he said, giving you a dashing smile.

“You know what, now that you’ve said it, it hurts really bad”, you said, catching on. “You know what’s amazing for a bad ankle?”, you asked, and the gentle smile in your lips and the mischievous glint in your eyes made his heart piston inside of his chest.

"What?", he said softly, stepping closer, like you were sharing secrets.

“Ice cream and a walk on the park. Very therapeutical”, you said, making Bucky laugh.

Before you knew it, Bucky had already scooped you up into his arms and rushedly announced that you had slipped and fell, whisking you away into the elevator.

“Dude, that took all night”, said Sam. “This is the smooth guy you told me about?”, he said, while Steve and Sharon laughed.

While everyone got ready to go home, Scott came out of the kitchen in his Ant-Man suit eating some leftovers.

“Someone owes me 20 bucks for making her trip”.

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x chubby reader

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for language and blood + references to violence Warning: Lil bit of kisses with dubious consent (initial surprise, then “hmm this is nice, I guess”), as well as a tiny bit of blood. Oh, and, ya know, mild referenced cannibalism. Notes: Still no beta reader, we die like innocent chickens unfortunate enough to be in Ethan Winters’ way. Also, I’m hoping this isn’t too ramble-y, I kinda. Got excited. Maybe sorta stayed up late to write this instead of sleeping, so... PS sorry for the cliffhanger, I could not resist. Next chapter will include the reader earning their PHD in Bullshittery, while also moving us into the, like, actual central plot of Serenade (or at least the part that the romance revolves around). Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne

Chapter 2: Overture

By the time you made it back to the maidens' quarters, it was nearly half an hour after your "shift" officially ended. Daniela hadn't taken up that much of your time, but her words had instilled a vigorous sense of anxiety in you, which had only drawn out your remaining tasks. You also weren't terribly looking forward to being interrogated by your coworkers. What would you even say? "Oh yeah, I accidentally played a note on the forbidden piano but instead of killing me, Lady Daniela just flirted with me and let me go! Haha smiley face emoji!"

Yeah, that would definitely go over great with the others. Maybe you could get away with pretending you hadn't been the one to play? Even though, you know, your daily duties were posted on the same wall as everyone else's, and anyone could see that you were the only person working in the music room today. Damnit, you think, everyone is always a bit tense when someone "gets off easy". Not that it happened terribly often. It simply made people nervous, considering they never knew if the Ladies of the house had been denied the "stress relief" they so desired, and whether or not they would want to take it out on someone else.

Hoping things would sail a little smoother this time, you took a deep breath and pushed the door to your quarters open. As soon as you stepped in you felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn your way. There had been muffled talking as you approached, but now it was silent, a heavy curtain of discomfort hanging over the room. Well, fuck, you thought, struggling to think of how to react. In the end you settled with a slightly-too-enthusiastic wave and a shy smile.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” One of the maidens asks, almost instantly, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed with confusion. If you remembered correctly, her name was Cynthia, and she was one of the (currently) longest running survivors. The two of you hadn’t spoken before, which made her next move all the more confusing. Without much of a warning she moved in front of you, reaching out to grab your hands, before gently holding them in front of her chest. When she speaks, it’s with a hushed voice. “How are you not dead right now?”

“I… have absolutely no idea,” you replied, doing what you could to avoid her gaze, but ending up meeting eyes with the others in the room.

“When you didn’t get back with everyone else… we assumed the worst,” Daphne, the closest thing you had to a best friend, said. She was towards the front of the small crowd of maidens, all of whom were now gathering around you out of curiosity. “You’re probably just lucky that Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t home while you played, otherwise, well, I think we can all guess what would have happened.”

“Thank the Mother for that, literally,” Cynthia chimed, dropping your hands as she did. That caught your interest for sure. Despite being part of an eccentric “extended family”, it wasn’t that often that Lady Dimitrescu actually left the castle to visit the other Lords; or their leader, for that matter. Was something big coming? Or was it simply time for a regular check up? You didn’t have time to ponder that thought, as soon Cynthia was speaking again. “Now, please, regale us with your story, dear. It must certainly be interesting… seeing as you escaped unscathed.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, putting your hands up in a “slow down” motion. Sighing, you moved over to your bed, sitting on the edge, before starting to tell the others what happened. You left out a few details, such as the severity of Daniela’s flirting, as well as the way she touched you. By the time you reached the end of your story, the other maidens had settled in a semi circle around you. A few had started to get ready for the day shift while you spoke, but their movements were deliberately slow, and their gasps let you know they were definitely listening. It was, however, difficult to tell how anyone really felt about what you were saying. Were they looking worried because they were concerned for your safety, or for their own?

Hard to say. All you knew at the end of night was that no one was looking forward to the following night.

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Every shadow in the corner of your eyes makes your heart skip a beat. All day (night, technically) you’ve been overly paranoid, expecting Daniela or one of her sisters to pop out at any moment, their sickles raised, blood-stained lips pulled up into a grin, promises of violence dripping from their mouths. So far your anxiety had proven irrational. Experience, on the other hand, was reverse-reassuring you with memories of maidens you had hardly had time to get to know. Who were you to avoid such a fate? Could playing a little song really justify your existence to these people? These mutants?

Distracting thoughts like that swirled around your mind for hours, leaving you feeling faint and dizzy, as you desperately tried to focus on your work. Ironically, it was your tunnel vision on your worries that brought them to life.

“Humph, you should really pay more attention, sweet thing,” a voice whispers, right besides your ear. Immediately you jump, a little yelp escaping you, and whirl around to see who had crept up on you. Your wide open eyes soon settled on the youngest Dimitrescu daughter. A toothy grin lit up her face as she took you in, leaning in just close enough for you to feel her breath. “Missed me?” She asks, words melting into a fit of giggles. One moment she’s face to face with you, the next she’s evaporating into a swarm of insects, moving around the room with frightening speed before settling on a nearby table. Both her legs dangle off the edge, swinging a little in a childlike manner.

“Lady Daniela, I-” you stutter, hardly able to will yourself to speak. You can’t help but glance at the table with a feeling of anxiety, knowing that you had just finished cleaning it, and wonder if your work would be for naught. But it seems that Daniela doesn’t appreciate you focusing on something other than her. Again she buzzes into a cloud, this time coming closer to you, the insects circling you, occasionally tugging at your skin. Fight or flight tries to kick in, yet all you manage to do is freeze in place.

You don’t open your eyes until the sound of hundreds of wings beating dies down. Fresh drops of blood trickle down your brow, as well a few from smaller cuts on your arms. Panic still roots you in place, even as you stare up at Daniela with a frightened expression. At first all she does is laugh. Loudly, with no softness to it at all. This was exactly the sort of thing that you had been afraid of in the first place.

“Oh, you poor little thing… Did that hurt?” Daniela asks, trailing a hand up your arm, pausing just before her fingers touch blood. Then she leans in, once more putting her lips right next to your ear, slowly pulling off one of her gloves as she does. “Good. Maybe you’ll pay more attention to me now. You really should, being in love with me and all.” She says it so casually, and with such conviction, that you almost wonder if she knew something that you didn’t. Though you try to turn to look at you, you find her gloved hand holding your head in place. The other moves so slowly that you almost don’t notice it until her thumb is sliding across your forehead. Blood smears as she does this, but she doesn’t bother trying to be neat about it.

Instead she simply brings the finger back towards herself, her other hand turning your face as she does, so that you could make eye contact as she licks her thumb clean. As soon as the blood hits her tongue her eyelids flutter and a soft moan rises in her throat. Astoundedly the sound brought a strong blush to your cheeks. It was less about attraction per se, more about the inherently intimate nature of the moment. Daniela was so close, her hand resting on the back of your head, her eyes slowly returning their focus to you. When she sees you she can’t help but don a prideful grin.

“You taste even better than I expected, sweet thing- what a fitting nickname, mhmm?” Another giggle, another rush of blood to your cheeks. In the rush of the moment you found your fear fading out, slowly, gradually being replaced by a mix of confusion and… warmth? What is wrong with me, you think, mind racing with countless half-thoughts.

Suddenly, as quick as the strongest of impulses, you found yourself being pulled closer to Daniela, her bare hand moving to rest on your waist. For once her eyes left your own. Now they drifted lower, to your lips, giving you a single moment to realize her intentions before she acts on them. Your lips collide with hers before you can even think to protest. It’s a million times softer than you would have ever imagined- not that you had imagined. But now that you had felt this… damnit, you know you shouldn’t enjoy it, yet you found yourself kissing back nonetheless. It wasn’t like it meant anything, right? Not like you’d have a chance to kiss anyone else around the castle, either.

Within a couple moments you realize two things: One, Daniela was smiling into the kiss. Two, by Jove (by Miranda?) was she seemingly inexperienced. Based on how much flirting she had done, you had naturally assumed that she was in no way, shape, or form new to this. The kiss was a bit sloppy, although passionate, and Daniela seemed quick to mimic your movements. More than that, it seemed like she was unable to catch her breath (did she even need to breathe? Or were the movements more out of habit than anything else?). By the time she pulls away she needs to gasp, and you’re left absolutely reeling, unsure how to process any of this. On the other hand, Daniela was softly grinning, gently resting her forehead against your own.

“Delectable, darling,” she murmurs. There’s a softness to her voice that you simply cannot fathom is real, at least not entirely so. Then a pause, with her gently running her fingers through your hair, before she gives you one more little peck on the lips. When she pulls away, just far enough to really look at you, you see something in her eyes that fills you with dread: Hunger. “I think I know what you want, what you need. You want to be with me, forever, a part of me, don’t you? They always do, in the end…” Her eyes shift to your neck, and suddenly her grip on you is dangerously tight.

Instantly you shift into panic mode, trying to squirm out of her grasp to no avail. This seems to irritate Daniela, who digs her nails into your waist, making you gasp. Without hesitation she seizes the opportunity to push you against the nearest wall, the hand that had caressed you so gently now pinning you down. Your thoughts are racing, desperately searching for anything that might buy you some time to get away, or even dissuade her entirely. But seconds tick by with nothing coming to light, your hope quickly fading. Gulping, you squeeze your eyes shut, ready to accept your fate.

And then… it hits you. An idea, maybe, that might just be stupid enough to work. Here goes nothing…

“Wait! Don’t you want me to show you my love?” You ask, somehow managing to mask the pure terror you were feeling. Hell, you slipped in a bit of confidence, sounding far, far more sure of yourself than you really were. Apparently it was enough to give Daniela pause. Her teeth had been mere inches from your neck, but now she was watching you closely, head tilted at a slight angle. “I can hardly do that if you kill me so soon, love. Don’t you want to see everything I have to offer? To know me truly, fully, before we become as one?” Another pause, a little hum from Daniela, then a slow, spine-chilling smile.

“Go on, then… show me.”

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #yes every chapter will be named after a musical term #what can I say I gotta put those 8+ years of piano lessons to use #not like I've released two albums or anything #that was sarcasm #anyway please enjoy

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batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years ago

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hae interrogationes multae respondeant quia demens .

if you read this entire ask post you deserve a gold star and financial recompensation

Um, Obviously because when you’re adopted by a white guy you automatically become white duhhh

this is about this post lmao and yeah youre absolutely right, you have to hand your poc card in when you get adopted by a white guy.

Do you think Cass would listen to Yanni, the YouTube channel epic symphonic rock, or some other stuff? There's some cool mashups but idk if that's up your alley, I kinda feel like I'm pushing it with my weird taste of music by recommending an orchestra cover of metal, but i just love that sort of thing and mashups :P @harvestyourcherries

i haven’t heard of that? but in my personal (correct) opinion steph listens to classical music, and then both modern and older, and then also stuff like black sabbath, iron maiden, but also hardrock and hardcore. i like the idea of cass just liking the most extreme screaming songs full of noise and then also listen to pachelbel’s 370th sonata yanno? THANK YOU for the rec tho

speaking of ur cass playlist hc...reminds of the time (yesterday) i found 2 playlists randomly on spotify from the same user. one was abt 3 hours of instrumental/classical "dark" & "nostalgic" music. the other almost 11 hours of nothing but hardcore bass/synth/electronic music. just an incredible tightrope act to put on in public. the synth one was also called like "psalms for synth sluts" which is Also incredible

tbh i LOVE synth SO MUCH like for no reason at all but then also cannot handle a poppy electronic beat lmao. but this seems like the kinda thing i’d do but just in one (1) playlist bc i just sort songs by vibe instead of genre? that’s how i end up with britney spears and billy ray cyrus in the same playlist.

Oh, I want Kate Kane playlist next! It would be amazing if you could do one when you have time and will 🙏

how rude would it be of me to just say no? like sorry kate but idk you and also you seem way too keen on the us military for an institution that homophobically targeted you? (and also commits war crimes) but let’s unpack the fact that the institution that caused the death of your mom and sister and also got you blacklisted for being gay is still one you align with???

'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' --- when i tell you i fucking screamed LOL!!!!!!! i can imagine the cameraman not knowing if he should cut to commercial or keep it on these two weirdos fighting on stage (bruce definitely ruffled dick's hair/noogied him right??

about this post but yeah lmao. this cameraman just turns to like the audience to get a reaction and it’s just multiple moments of CLEAR shock.

you are the only funny person on this hellsite

how egotistical is it for me to say that i get this ask multiple times a month? bc it literally happens so often it’s hilarious to me.

Wish there was more john/Bruce content 😔😔😔 was so hungry I actually looked at canon media 😔😔😔 (Justice League Dark babeeeyyyyyy)

check out batman: damned for some mediocre content but at least it’s john/bruce (also very interesting story and stuff, just got very >:( over this weird part where harley quinn tried to r*pe bruce or something? it’s not for everyone)

dick grayson but he's nicki minaj

his anaconda don’t want none,,, unless......

Dick Grayson was never a cop, he played Marshall on Paw Patrol

you are SO right. also paw patrol is a fucking good show idc. that shit could’ve been the new steven universe on this hellsite.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS1lI0bLI7-/?utm_medium=copy_link

...

why do people keep reposting my CONTENT. if you are not funny yourself don’t just grab shit off of tumblr and post it on insta,,, get a life. sidenote: should i start an insta and get all these ppl to take my content down that would be funny as hell.

Might I suggest for a Gotham City Meme: something about the true crime fandom thirsting for the rogues gallery

ok can i just say something slightly controversial?? no? i don’t find true crime ppl who are into criminals funny, that shits disturbing irl im not gonna bring that into my very chill universe.

i may have never seen a 'jason cleaning guns in sink' fic but i do know he WOULD

THANK YOU

bestie im sorry to say this to you but while you can, and people do wash their guns in the sink, that is a lot of lead in a very vital part of the kitchen.

people tend to do it in the bathtub.

WHY???? like damn why do you even have guns

i dont think i read many gun sink fics exactly but i have read lots of fics where jason cleanes his guns in the living room. usualy dissembles them and cleans them with a rag i think

lmao fair enough, like i think that’s a large part of what i remember as well.

if you say you've seen/read gun sink fics I believe you. I think those of us who didn't see them are lucky or maybe didn't search for fics by tags or something idk

i mean ive never sought them out but i HAVE seen them,, like definitely i know almost for certain.

saw your tags and I'm interested in Steph/Kara now. They would be the most chaotic couple <3

literally thoooo, i have a wip where they get together in a zombie apocalypse and like UGGGHhhh i am so in love with them.

I am the Breece anon. Thanks for the recommendation; am reading now. I’ve always been a hardcore Superman fan because I love my pure himbo farm boy. My logic is, if one Bruce is a Broose, then multiple Broose are a herd of Breece. And this is a hill upon which I will perish.

fair enough,,,, like moose, meese, goose, geese, bruce, breece. i get your logic and i stand by it as well. (glad you enjoyed the comic recs!!!!)

It's a beautiful day in Gotham, and you are a group of horrible Breece

OH my god dude lmao

there only being 42 fics on ao3 for tim and bernard is honestly so sad i need more

it’s like twice that now!!! we did it lads. (tho very sad that my fic isnt number one but like number 4 :(((( )

i'm too late you already did the poll lol but may i suggest bethy (bernard + timothy)

shit dude that wouldve been so fucking funnyyyyy. think ppl have just stuck to timber tho, tim/bernard kinda died down recently and i think it’s too bad, they’re a great couple and i love them.

Wait, hear me out

Bernothy @redlightofdawn

great recommendation (lmao this ask is from like a month ago) but very sorry to announce that NARDTH is the superior shipname

Wait, we know that bernard likes milfs (Tim's step-mom) but what about dilfs? gilfs?

Wait no, I regret sending that ask

these were two seperate asks and they’re HILARIOUS. in my personal opinion tho,,, milfs, gilfs, dilfs are just about vibes and bernard is just attracted to sexy ppl who may sometimes be milfs, dilfs, or EVEN gilfs.

crime in bludhaven would drop to half if nightwing had a boob window. in this essay i will-

WHERE’S THE ESSAY ANON, WHERE’S THE FUCKING ESSAY

Wait if Barbra and Tim r at opposite ends at all times what happened to Barbra once everyone’s Tim’s ever love before started dying lol

she won a lottery ticket and spent 2 weeks on a resort in the bahamas before returning home and finding out that the joker was arrested for tax evasion and then spent a month staying at her big tiddie goth girlfriend’s house before conner came back to life and she broke her pinkie playing table hockey.

Why is the opposite end thing so funny and compelling to me. Tim comes back from his depression quest for Bruce and Babs is now a literal god

lmao when tim loses his spleen barbara reaches nirvana.

Are you still taking music recs because I have three songs that remind me of Jason that I think you'd like

send to me or lose a toe

🌸 ⭐ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐🌸😋

thanks, i wont tho on account of i wont.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMduBy3Sr/

⬆️

This is the whole of Blüdhaven and everyone anywhere.

Nightwings ass alone saves more people in a calendar year and does more for so society than most heroes do their whole career.Also u are one of the funniest tumblr pages out there. The vibes are unmatched and the memes and tags ✨send me✨.Thank u and goodnight @julia-flow

fanksss also lmao.

That's going to be a little bit difficult to explain, but

There's some music that you listen to and you think, "oh my gosh, I can perfectly imagine Dick Grayson singing this song, with the same voice as the singer because that voice matches with Dick Grayson"?

oh yeah totally lmao. i have a lot of songs that i think are just entirely dick grayson yanno? kind of all of my playlists have that vibe, but i really find bleachers to fit with dick? idk.

"Lois lane/Superman" fics this, "Lois lane/Clark Kent" fics that, (/lh) let's get into the real good stuff. Some people ship Lois, Clark, and Superman as a throuple. Most popular fic tag for sure

yes totally, i think they’d be absolutely killer on ao3 and clark gets so fucking embarassed about it.

I miss your post, hope you’re doing okay!!

haha this was like 2 months ago, but i was doing fine then too! just didn’t have a lot of inspiration in terms of content.

Doot doot!

noot noot

I’m confused. What did DC do now? Like with nightwing? And another sibling? Please spoil everything for me

lmao they gave him a secret sister plotline where they had his dad cheat on his mom with tony zucco’s wife, bc dick’s life wasn’t traumatic enough yet.

sorry but it's so funny that batman is called "the dark knight" when the gotham city baseball team is called the gotham knights. it'd be like if a vigilante was running around new york called like "the scary yankee"

lmaooo no. but like yankee comes from dutch names or something so wouldnt it be HILARIOUS if gotham knights came from like german names and bruce would be running around called the dark KLAUS UND NIEK @graysonnightwing

(not a batcest shipper) it’s so funny to me that the responses are “i’m a batcest shipper because i can differentiate fiction from reality and and it doesn’t bother me personally, but i understand why you oils think it’s weird” to “i wish all batcest shippers a very fucking die”

yeah lmaoo. i personally basically flipped my entire stance around to ‘i dont care please leave me and everybody else alone’ bc i think there’s really no point in starting a moral dillema over some fucking fandom bullshit. Please just,,, go home,,, log off, find a nice forest to have a little walk in and remember that somewhere in history, somebody probably died in the place you’re standing. and you will also die someday, and somebody will have to look at your internet usage and see you fighting multiple people anonymously while being named ‘nightwingsbuttchin200186′ like... calm down, we’re all gonna die this is not the thing to worry about.

so since like "wards" don't really exist in modern society almost all the batkids are foster kids, right? i used to work in the system and imagine: monthly visits from social workers and guardian ad litems, bruce having to get permission to take the boys anywhere out of state, calling their social worker at like 8 a.m. like "yeah dick broke his arm again... a gymnastics accident this time...." their poor social worker. bruce send her a huge bouquet and box of chocolates every month to stay on her good side

i imagine the social worker just getting into the case like ‘yeah let’s get this kid a good guardian’ and then ending up having to work with 22 y/o bruce wayne and his 50 y/o dad. and so this social worker is like ‘okay we can work with this, this is the best home i can find’ and then like it ends up landing on its feet and then the kid gets adopted and then they get a call a year later like ‘uhm so hi, this kid tried to steal my tyres can i adopt him?’ and like 3 years later. ‘okay so basically, my neighbours’ kid imprinted on me and now they’re dead, can i keep him?’ two years later it’s like ‘okay so this assassin child-’

ever since I saw that one post of yours, the meme that's something like "I know that abba's backup dancer got me" with a picture of discowing, I've been haunted. Every once in a while I'll be minding my own business then the image of abba's backup dancer dick grayson aka nightwing aka discowing will flash in my mind and I'll be frozen in place. Today at work I was in the middle of folding clothes and suddenly once again discowing entered my mind and I suddenly lost the ability to see anything except He. Thank you.

wow. the IMPACT.

Braver than any US marine man props to you🤝

this shit is about the time i wrote an article on batcest, like man,,, the fact that i didn’t get cancelled is MIRACULOUS. also like,,, uh if anybody on here did gossip on me,, send screenshots i’d love to see it.

Hello, just wanted to say your article was great. Thank you for taking the time to provide an unbaised answer. It should provide people with nuances they couldn't possibly conjure on their own.

May I ask where your username originates from?

yes you may (also thanks!!!) i thought it up when i was trying to find an original username bc i didnt want to be called like ‘timdrakes something something’ or ‘jason todd something smoething’ or ‘dick grayson something something’ yanno? so i thought batarangs, they sound so dumb and that’s my username story... now it’s my whole entire brand lmao.

yno that bit in kick ass where red mist asks kick ass if he wants a hit of his blunt, was that the inspo for stoner tim

no? it’s bc i think stoners are hilarious and drugs are great. (dont do drugs tho)

How would u feel if someone actually wore one of those bruce or ollie pride shirts u edited

fenomenal next question.

Dick as lil huddy and Jason as James gave me radiation poisoning and now I’m screaming crying throwing up so thx for that

(Rico suave as Tim is perfect tho literally no changes needed)

i was so funny for that shit wasn’t i??? lmao i loved those weird ass fancasts

You're doing the Lord's work by providing us with all these Gotham/Metropolis citizens memes, thank you for being so relentlessly funny @nellethiel-aranel

you’re welcome!! i really enjoy making memes, but getting validation for my content and my memes is REALLY nice.

Bruce is such a slut in your memes and honestly i love that for him @rhodey-rhudert-rhodes-main

he’s that much of a slut irl too dw.

Bruce and Alfred have an emergency pride flag for the batkids. Oliver Queen printed an emergency "I love my gay son" t-shirt and as soon as Roy told him he was dating Jason, Oliver started wearing that shirt everyday and Roy always cringes when he sees it. Oliver also has an emergency "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt just in case for Cissie.

lmao YES i had a post like this bc like all of their kids/family members are so gayy

stop bringing back batfam fancasts it is not real it is not real it is not- 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

oh yes it is my darling.

did discowing burn down the notredam because he hates the bees? @allulily

no he did it bc fuck the french.

im gonna beg for 1 thing and 1 thing only. please please please put physical by olivia newton john on dick's playlist

okay then beg. bc i wont. physical reminds me too much of glee and that hurts me mentally.

your playlist is sorely missing some Madonna. Specifically Into the Groove, Like a Prayer, and Vogue

i’m scared of madonna that’s why she’s not on there. she haunts me in my dreams.

suggestion: son of batman by aaron dews for dick’s playlist��

sorry, i listened to it and the vibe didn’t agree with me.

Hear me out, metropolis citizens sending rare pair fics of Clark Kent x Superman fics to Lois to edit

yes, absolutely hilarious. even more funny if they send like physical copies, no address attached and lois sends it back marked with red ink, SOMEHOW

Imagine all the smut Clark must of read editing the fics

clark reads smut confirmeeed

NOT LOIS READING SUPERBAT PORN AND EDITING IT A 2AM

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hc that alfred is a meta that boosts healing factor of the people around him. if the bats are injured as much as they seem to be they would be doing bat stuff MAYBE half the year. no one including alfred knows about this. whenever the kids move out they inexplicably dont recover from injuries as fast and feel better whenever they visit the manor they just chalk it up to homesickness. bruce just thinks he heals really fast. alfred thinks everyone doesnt take care of themselves properly @finchcollector

that’s actually such a great idea, but i think that alfred would find out and learn how to concentrate it better so he can help more people, bc he’s great and i love him.

One of your dickfast posts reminded me of that tweet that goes: 'so you've had sex how many times? Yeah technically that's not a bromance' lol that's dickwally or dickroy

literally tho. like that’s all of dick’s friendships. once it gets past a certain time dick is like ‘wow i wonder what it would be like to make out with wally, wally come make out with me’ and wally’s like ‘we’ve done this like 40 times, dick, you know what it’s like’ and dick is like ‘sorry are you complaining?’ and they just make out.

superfam and batfam associations??

-batman and superman

-dick/barabara and supergirl?

-conner and tim

-jon and damian

pls enlighten me I am confused

nope,,, uhm batman and superman, but dick and superman as well, and then conner and tim, jon and damian and steph + babs with supergirl

I came across a fic in which Wonder Woman calls Batman "Stella" (like Stellaluna, the children's book) and I can imagine the batkids hop on the trend and maybe copies of the book appear at random places (aka, everywhere Bruce frequents)

sorry can’t reciprocate that was the name of my high school chemistry teacher and it gives me nightmares to think about.

good human what are your pronouns?

wouldn’t you like to know?

I need me some gothamites preferring harley over joker memes

everyone prefers harley over joker youre just very fucked up if you dont

don't understand why people try to add like veteran policy to the batfamily

dick pulling out his veteran batfam member card so he can eat first: step aside, peasants

Do you know the song Simmer by Haley Williams? It (the first verse anyways) reminds me of Jason? It's about rage.

damn yeah i LOVE HAYLEY!!!! youre right thoo

Okay so I like listen to your stoner Tim Drake playlist 24/7 but would he listen to skegss? Also I keep adding songs mentally it’s killing me 😩✋🏼 Anyways,, I literally love and worship your playlist 😃🤞🏼 And uh yeah have a good day ✨

stoner tim drake playlist is lyfeeee. also dont know who skeggs is? i’m stupid? have a good day!!

All the Robins (and Batgirl) decide to trade costumes for one night just to fuck with Batman and all the villains in Gotham. @subspacecadet

batman knows it’s them youknow but like,,, what does he call them? he’s like ‘red hood?’ and 3 people answer and he’s not about to compromise some identities so he’s just Pissed.

I aspire to treat cops the way my dad treats them. This man is a 45 year old Asian immigrant to the US and the treats them like his pets. He talks about them like unruly children. Sometimes he pays off local cops to shut up and stop acting racist. And usually it works. I don’t know why but I can see Oliver Queen doing this

vibes... and also yes? oliver queen handing a local cop a donut to shut the fuck up lmao. but yanno i commit enough crimes to not really want to ever see a cop ever, so they kinda scare the everloving fuck out of me.

seeing as tim hasn't aged in years, that means he was 17 at peak emo tumblr era. im back on my emo tim bullshit and im not letting it go

emo tim had a wattpad account send tweet

People seem to think that batman is so dark and serious when the rainbow batsuit is right there. He wore it with no shame.

dude the 60s were a DIFFERENT TIME

dick grew up in a circus, jason grew up on the streets, and tim was probably raised by the internet

all of them cuss every other word and you cannot tell me otherwise

bitch i KNOW but dc has to change to an 18+ rating if they want to sell comix with swear words in them so we gotta deal with imagining the swear words in ourselves

thoughts on teen titans and young justice

haven’t seen teen titans on account of havent seen it and young justice was LITERALLY my favourite thing ever, tho i do gotta admit it’s not at all similar to the young justice comics unfortunately. i really wouldve liked to see timmy bart kon cassie and cissie animated on tv!!

ew ew ew how to delete batcest shippers I genuinely digust them

log off tumblr?

Okay as poc who was called racist for calling an Italian pastabrain: in the batfam are Italians bit Damian just yells various insults about the others being Italian. Just him yelling “What are you doing you moronic spaghettihead!” At steph etc

huh? i meant real italians. homeboy is telling steph he hopes she chokes on her fucking garlic.

I think it's dumb as hell to pull the batman is the best fighter in the batfam argument because like it's just irresponsible of Bruce to let his kids fight when they couldn't possibly be on his league or something

fair enough, but also like who cares they could all kill you just sit down and take a beating.

lady shiva, thalia al ghul and Selina Kyle are all milfs @notanothertimburtonenthusiastugh

unfortunately, i have to admit,,, you’re right

why tf didn't someone give joker a death sentence already? like he's a mass murderer...give him the electric chair treatment wtf

idk i think plenty of people would have tried to murder him already (boring answer is: he is a popular character so they can’t kill him off bc he brings in lots of money)

There’s no such thing as “ copaganda”.

all american media is propaganda. happy to clear this up for you

is it bad that I find lady shiva owa owa

no. find her as owa owa as you want.

aight I'm guessing the order of your favs in batfam:

1. tim

2. Steph

3. dick

4. Duke

5. the rest

you’re wrong but it’s cute that you tried, i generally don’t have favourites, but i have a special place in my heart for steph, tim, dick and cass. bc they were like my introduction to batfam. but damian, jason, duke, bruce, babs and alfred are NOT FORGOTTEN OR UNLOVED

oh my god i was literally just readily willing to believe that italians werent white ty for clarifying it was a joke im so dumb sdkvjskdfs

i mean some italians aren’t white? italian is a nationality as well as an ethnicity, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

since I saw so many people doing headcanons about the nationalities of batboys, I see Dick as an Italian.

dont know if youre serious or not, but sure.

super random but

jason 🤝 damian

old english

lmao fair enough.

tim absolutely has 1 gay uncle and his parents shit talk said uncle all the time so after bruce adopts him he specifically reaches out to this uncle to be like "heyyyy just so you know you majorly influenced my life yes i know i havent seen you since i was 5 and at the family reunion yes i know you dont remember my name idc thank you im gay too" and then they never talk again.

yuppp lmao that’s definitely something that could happen. i can also consider tim having no family members, like none. until he does like a dna test and he realises he has like an aunt living barely 2 miles away from him who’s like some illegitimate child of his grandpa.

I dare you one of them sends clark superman/clark fic and clark corrects the shit out of it and then goes like ps his dick is not that big, just telling as someone who has seen it. internet either explodes or goes who tf did he not fuck at this point.

i think everybody would call clark a buzzkill and try to cancel him over that.

so you're telling me Tim Drake wouldn't buy Starbucks?

no. dunkin donuts all the way

One of my favorite things is imagining people finding out jason came back from the dead and being like "oh no does he have magic powers now?!?!?" and he just pulls out a gun and tries to shoot joker

now he doesn’t even have the gun :) lmao

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

bruce gets codename ‘ugh’ everytime. he hates it.

crazy that tim being a 17 y/o ceo and a stoner who does brand deals are all actual canon things written in detective comics comics and not made up for shits and giggles by you, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb @rowdeyclown

SO CRAZY HUH?

batman au where everything is the same but his utility belt is bright pink

absolutely, but i raise you, his boots light up like sketchers when he kicks people.

unbeknownst to the superhero fandom writers in the dcuniverse, clark and BRUCE are one of the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag on ao3. clark writes the best lois x superman angst, full of unhappy endings and scenes that are a so detailed you'd think you were in the middle of a superhero beatdown. bruce made an ao3 account to fuel "the do the butts match" thing, and makes batman/bruce fics from time to time. he wrote a superbat fic as a joke but ended up making it REAL porny. @concrastinator

dude they’re WAY too busy for that. Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan on the other hand are the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag writing what is Mostly porn.

When the dining table topic gets to politics, Steph says "eat the rich" as the solution

bruce just silently takes away her fork and knife while she’s talking.

#literally if you got through this i just respect you #this is mainly just for the people who sent me an ask in the past few mask #i hope your ask is in here :)#sorry for everybody else #ask #bataranswers #this took me 4 hours to do so i hope youre happy #also sidenote #does anybody know the latin translation for 'to become'#bc i just used future of 'esse' but it could be a different verb #who cares tho latin is a dead language #big congratulations to everyone who translates my sentence #here's a bonus sentence: tuam matrem futueram

39 notes · View notes

bitchiha · 5 years ago

Note

I just found your blog, and I love it already. Can I request relationship hc for Kankuro and Darui(if you write him)?

✎ Relationship HC’s (Kankuro, Darui)

A/N: so I’m proud I actually managed to whip a post out lol, also Kank and Darui are some of my fav characters and I’m sad I haven’t written much for either of them... anyways, enjoy and thank you for requesting this, wonderful anon!

Kankurou

So we can just jump straight into it here: you’re gonna have to put up with all the puppets. Like when you come over to his apartment for the first time you probably have 5 mini heart attacks. You’re shrieking around every corner you turn because there is always damn puppet there waiting for you. Sometimes it’s not even a full puppet, just a puppet limb. This continues to scare the shit out of you when you move eventually move in too. Like it’s something you cannot escape.

Yes, he does have a work room, but his work is not limited to that room (that’s what he’ll sassily tell you as he picks up the puppet you flung across the room because it basically jump scared you.) However.. Little by little you notice that he starts to leave less and less puppet parts around the house, which is really touching because Kank can be stubborn as fuck sometimes.

Also, he loves when you come over and sit on his lap while he works on one of his puppets; bonus if you let him blab about them. Honestly you don’t have to even listen, just make it look like you are. Let your hands play with his hair as you nod along whenever he pauses his sentence, knowing it’s a cue for a little response from you.

One of the scariest things you’ll have to deal with in the relationship is when Kankurou casually has conversations with his puppets. Like one night you came home a little late from work and you heard your boyfriend talking in a hushed tone and you’re like?? Who’s he talking to?? Figured it was Gaara because let’s be real.. Kank does not have a side hoe, he cannot get a side hoe, even if he wanted. So anyway.. You didn’t want to bother him, so you just quietly walk into the work room to peek inside, only to find Kank talking to one of his puppets. He notices you at the door and stops mid conversation and clears his throat, but it’s too late, you’ve already heard him.

“Kank.. babe.. we’re you talking to your puppet just now?” He just stares at you sheepishly, but the puppets still perched on his lap nonetheless, “... There’s no point in me denying it is there?”

He’s kinda shitty at gift giving on special occasions. Like he is just is so fucking bad that you’ve accepted the fact that your birthday gift will be a teddy bear like every single year. But he makes up for it with the random gifts he gives you throughout the year. Like if you’ve been away for a long time you always come home to some sort of cute little puppet waiting for you. He’s made one of your favourite animal, favourite anime character, mini versions of his own puppets, etc. At this point in the relationship you’re starting to get used to the puppets, so you end up keeping them on a shelf in your room. He always gets so giddy when he comes to your place and sees them displayed like that. And loves it even more when you keep them displayed after you move in together.

Sorry sweetheart, but if you do not like his siblings.. NEXT CALLER. Bye. He’s ending the relationship right there. But if you get along with them his heart melts, especially if you and Gaara become friends. Or like if you can remotely handle Gaara pre chunin exams. Yah will do it. He’s head over heels for you. You’re both protective mama bears now and will keep Temari and Gaara safe with your lives and vice versa.

Badass fighting duo. If anyone wants to fuck with Gaara or Temari you two are gonna fuck shit up to say the least. But even on missions too, like you guys can read eachother perfectly and even if you were bickering before the battle starts — all the tension goes out the window and you’re focused on the problem at hand. You can go back to flaming eachother afterwards. Just a little side note: he loves showing off his puppet skills. So don’t be surprised if he calls out “y/n! Babe! Y/n! Over here — This is how the Ant looks in action.” Then he proceeds to iron maiden the victim. Give him a thumbs up and congratulate him please. Even if it’s kinda a very graphic scene.

Kinda fucks with PDA tbh, like he tones it down once Gaara becomes Kazekage because he needs to keep up a respectable image, but still does light PDA. Pre Kazekage Gaara, he would suck your face off anywhere. But when Gaara becomes Kage, he just gives you quick kisses instead. Doesn’t go for handholding a lot, prefers having an arm around your shoulders or around your waist. Slaps your ass too, if there isn’t a lot of people around and he can get away with it. If you wanna make him jealous though, all that composure goes out the window.

KISS HIS HANDS. LOVE HIS HANDS. When you’re at home and you two are cuddling, run your thumb lightly over his knuckles, over his calloused palms, kiss the pads of his fingers... it just makes him so soft lol. Like kiss the scars of blisters or scratches from his work tools and he’s putty in your hands girl.

I’m 100% sure that Kank can handle a moody / bratty s/o. Like you’ve got a little spice? He can take that. Afterall, he handled little moody pre teen Gaara before, I’m sure he can handle you. Doesn’t mean he isn’t stubborn though, he won’t let you win arguments. Which is a problem if you’re stubborn too. You will argue for hours and wont even remember what you were arguing about to begin with, then one of you’ll have to be like: pause the music.. what were we even mad about? Neither of you can remember and you’ll just shrug it off and go out for ramen or something like nothing happened.

If you don’t already have somewhat of a thick skin when you start dating Kankurō, you will eventually form one. If not, shits not gonna work out. Like he’s just a teasing person and he likes to have little roast sessions, they just entertain him. He hardly ever oversteps himself when it comes to the banter, but if he does he’s kinda oblivious. If you start crying though he’ll feel so bad, like it was just mindless teasing he didn’t mean to make you cry. Will remember what made you react like that and won’t ever mention it again.

I think he also tells the best stories. Like he just has the best expressions and voice for it. Not to mention having a jinchuuriki and Kazekage as his brother; he’s experienced some crazy shit. He mindlessly babbles them out to you whenever something reminds him of that particular time. Like if he sees a person walking their dog, it brings him back to the time when he defended kiba against one of the Sound Four. Then boom. He just randomly blurts out the story as you two are walking.

Kankurou is a surprisingly good cuddler. He always wants to be the big spoon and likes to pull you close to his chest and sling his arm around you lazily when you’re watching tv together . He’s constantly getting his hands tangled in your hair because he loves to play with it. Sometimes if you fall asleep while he’s cuddling you, you’ll wake up two French braids or something. Honestly, you’ll be shocked at how he managed to do that at first, but let’s be real he probably styles his puppets hair in his free time.

Overall an entertaining s/o, I would reccomend.

Darui

Oh boyyyyyy... Where do I start with this guy? He’s such an amazing hype man. Like Darui is so fucking flattered that he managed to score such a smart and gorgeous person that he will never let you forget it. He swings you compliments all the time and they don’t even sound overbearing from him because he’s just that cool. Even the way he compliments you is cool. Don’t forget to compliment him too though.... pls be eachothers hype men.

He’s also the loyalist man you will ever meet — we see what he’s like with the Raikage, you can’t tell me otherwise. Like once the two of you are officially dating he is committed 100% to you and will do anything for you. So do not mistake his laid back demeanour for laziness because when it comes to your relationship he is ready to do whatever you want. You want a certain flavour of ice cream, but the store ran out? He will go to every single grocery store in the village to find you that flavour for you. His s/o deserves the best and if they can’t have their favourite ice cream then he won’t rest till they do. Literally. Sometimes you have to go out and find him and tell him it’s okay and that he can come home, you don’t need that flavour that badly.

Handles periods the best too. Like he’s actually mature about it for the most part. Will 100% go out and buy you tampons or pads because like I said, he will do whatever you want. He’s also practically a human heater so he will lay down with you and cuddle you to help relieve some of the cramp pains. Can figure out when you’re PMSing too and will handle it well too. Like you’re literally just spazzing out in the middle of the kitchen and you’re yelling about something that happened 2 years ago, he he just pulls you into a hug and holds you there until your anger dies down a little bit, then he picks you up and tucks you into bed. Idk how it works, but it does. Every single time.

When it comes to gift giving he’s so subtle about it. Like he isn’t the type to do something extravagant and flashy for his s/o, but his gifts are still so thoughtful and considerate that you can’t help but blush at them. He’s observant and he notices the things you like, what you talk about more than other things, etc. He takes all that into account when he wants to buy you a gift and every year he never fails to melt your heart. It also makes him super giddy when he sees you wearing / displaying his gifts in your room or something. He is always so insecure when he actually hands you the gift though, but the look of joy on your face instantly washes his hesitance away.

Honestly you two are the coolest couple in the whole Cloud, like you’re just such a badass duo. Omoi and Karui love you two, Killer Bee loves you two, Cee and the Raikage too. It’s kind of funny just how invested the Raikage is, though. Definitely cries hysterically if you and Darui get into a fight, hes all like “no! You two are meant to be, this can’t be happening!” And Darui is like... sir it was a minor fight, we’re still together... Killer Bee has also definitely made a rap about you two or at least used you two for a line in his rap. It was pretty garbage, but it’s the thought that counts; plus you guys are so cool that the rap just automatically becomes cool too.

Darui constantly apologizes for things that aren’t his fault. You learn to get used to it, but it’s a little confusing at first. One night he came to your apartment all depressed looking and he’s like “y/n, I’m so sorry, but I have to tell you this now.” And you think his ass is cheating on you or something because of how solemn he looks so you’re bracing yourself for the worst, when in reality he just wants to postpone your date an hour or two because he has to help the Raikage with something. You just stare at him for a good five minutes because wtf why didn’t he just call you? Like why does he look so distressed over something as minor as that??

Your fights don’t last very long at all. He’s a reasonable and understanding person, so he doesn’t initiate fights very often. I feel like you guys only really fight when it comes down to spending too much time apart. Like he’s been too busy with being the Raikages second hand man and you’ve been occupied with missions and your own business, you two just miss each other and kind of end up getting frustrated with each other and eventually you guys snap. Like you can’t make the date on Friday and want to re schedule, but Friday’s the only day he can make it. Cue snappy comments and one of you hanging up the phone on the other. Daruis always the first one to apologize though, go figure.

You guys are also another badass duo when it comes to fighting, like he’s super observant of you and he knows your next move before you know it. If you’re a bit on the impulsive side he’ll lowkey get frustrated because he doesn’t want you to get hurt when it’s something he can prevent. Especially if you’re fighting together, like he doesn’t want that on his conscience. Like you will never stop hearing him apologize if you get injured when he could have prevented it. You constantly have to shut him up lol.

Honestly playing with his hair is the best, he actually likes when you try and take care of it too. Even if it doesn’t work out all the time because you can’t really tame it, he loves the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp anyway. So he’ll let you have your fun, but only you can touch it. His hair just feels so fucking nice too, like you have to refrain yourself from running your hands through his hair randomly. You definitely fluff it sometimes though.

He likes to be the big spoon when you two cuddle, but he doesn’t mind being the little one sometimes — only if you play with his hair though. Like just start running your hands through his hair and he’ll pass out just like that. Really likes when you lay your head on his chest and you just kind of sprawl yourself ontop of him. Sometimes he does that to you instead, especially after a long mission where he hasn’t seen you for a long time. He just lays his head on your chest and loves the feeling of your chest rising and falling gently as you sleep.

He is not that into pda, will wrap an arm around you or give you his jacket when you’re cold, but does not make out with you in public. If he’s feeling needy then he will simply pull you into an alley and kiss you there, but he’s pretty good at controlling himself and hardly ever needs to do that. Gives you occasional kisses on the cheek though, but absolutely no touching around the Raikage. Even if the Raikage literally doesn’t care. Darui just thinks it’s uncool.

You guys have super chill dates. Like just going out to dinner or hanging out at each others houses. The best dates are the spontaneous ones. Darui doesn’t do them all that often, but whenever there’s like a thunderstorm or a rainstorm outside, he will run to your place and you two will watch it together. Like just perch yourselves on the windowsill with a bunch of blankets and some snacks and you’re good to go. It’s kinda dangerous but both of your definitely fall asleep on the windowsill.

10/10 overall. Darui is so fucking cool he owns my ass.

#Naruto Shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #kankuro x reader #kankuro imagine #darui #darui headcanon #darui imagine

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

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Hi! “If I fail, I’ll fall apart/Maybe it is all a test/because I feel like I’m the worst / so I always act like I’m the best” -Oh No! This is one of my favorite lyrics ever, and I'd really like to see what you bring out of it :) You're amazing, ily! 💞

what if maria had more of an effect on tony’s upbringing than most? howard’s still a dick but make it funny

Tony has known he was probably not the best human on earth ever since he was five and his dad made a bigger deal out of a dead man’s birthday than his own.

At age five, you don’t really know a lot about the world yet. There were about two things that Tony didn’t know that he wishes he did know:

1.) The word “fuck.” It would have helped with a lot of his situations.

2.) The concept of jealousy. He probably could have gone to a child therapist or some shit, he’s not sure if those even existed back then, or if his parents would have even let him go.

(After all, he’s supposed to be their perfect little boy, just the right amount of precocious and the other amount being something like genius or respectability.)

It is actually his mother who takes the reins on his life. Howard has effect, he has huge effects.

Maria is a socialite who absolutely refuses to let her son succumb to Howard’s devil-may-care attitude that he’s so infamous for. Her son is going to be well-mannered, respectable, and know exactly how to treat a lady of high social standing.

This involves training at a young age. Six would be a fine age.

It’s not Howard who sends him to boarding schools, it’s Maria. She ensures that he goes to the finest schools available, most abroad in Europe. She trains him out of the American accent, into something a bit more refined.

He spends summers learning different languages and different skills. He learns how to fence by the time he’s ten, and becomes quite proficient at it.

She quizzes him on established families, up-and-coming families, and never keeps him far from her sight.

Anthony Stark is not going to be a wild-child, she decides.

Anthony isn’t, for the most part. Sure, he usually stays up past what is acceptable for the night to work on some mechanic stuff and uses the word “damn” a bit too much for his mother’s liking, but that’s the reason make-up and apologies were invented.

He follows rules and is known to smile like his mother and enjoy listening to quartets play out in the open air during the summer months. He travels to Europe and participates in various activities and is the talk of many socialites who eagerly await his arrival.

He’s a portrait, holding still for all’s approval, and he’s not quite sure how to move.

That’s troublesome, he thinks.

The problem is this: Anthony Stark doesn’t have any interests outside what is required. He loves working on inventions, and they are necessary for the company to survive, but his father hates any robotic invention he pushes for, and mother thinks that if he tells people he’s rather fond of AC/DC then he’s a plague to society and will be shunned.

(He doesn’t say it to her face but they haven’t shunned Sunset yet, and she’s a whole world of problems, so rock music is the least of their problems.)

There is one thing that he pushes for: university in the United States. He’s been traveling to Europe since he was a child, and he honestly needs to do something for himself.

Maria is not pleased.

“So after I sacrifice so much for you, this is how you repay me?” she asks him over dinner.

He places his fork to the correct side.

“Yes. This is how I am repaying you. By getting a perfectly respectable college degree from a critically-acclaimed university that anyone would be lucky to attend. Not to mention it might reflect badly on Stark Industries if I don’t go to an American college. Do I not trust American institutions to run an American business?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Anthony laughs.

“Mother, they cannot teach me anything that Europe can’t. Let me go to college in the United States. Please.”

“No.”

It takes Howard to convince her, and a.) Howard doesn’t even like Anthony that much, and b.) he also doesn’t like his wife that much.

“He’s going to a damned college here, Maria. We don’t need him to go to any more of that fancy bullshit you call school over there.”

“Fancy bullshit, Howard?! Bullshit?! You mean what has gotten him this far in life and will make him a better man of social standing than you?”

“My god, is social standing all that matters to you? What are your little friends going to do, choke on their silver spoons when they find out that your son is going to an American college?”

Jarvis also convinces her.

“It will be easier to monitor his progress from a shorter distance,” he advises. “And you can visit frequently.”

Anthony gives him a very dirty look. Apparently, he wasn’t supposed to mention that.

Oops.

But, Anthony gets his way. He’s going to MIT, and he has a roommate.

(Okay, so mother doesn’t know that. But he supposes she will if she ever visits. Or maybe not considering if Tony can successfully convince his roommate to “disappear” for at least a day.)

Rhodey does not give a singular shit about high society anything or anyone. Anthony Stark is a name he registers, but doesn’t recognize.

“Anthony’s a mouthful,” he says a week into their cohabitation. “You have a nickname or something?”

“Ah...no? I mean, not yet,” Anthony says.

“How do you feel about Tony?”

“I...I suppose that that is alright.”

“Are you from Europe?”

“No, from New York.”

“Well holy shit, you sure as fuck don’t sound like it.”

Anthony--well, Tony now--learns quite a bit about American schooling and what he’s actually supposed to be doing to pass off as normal.

Rhodey (yeah he got a nickname that ended in ‘y’ too, Tony said he wouldn’t be the only one) takes him to the thrift store and tells him to pick out some clothes.

“...there’s a shirt that’s advertising a restaurant from Montana.”

“And? Does it look hilarious?”

“Is that the point of this?”

“Fashion is supposed to make you like what you’re wearing or like yourself. I swear if you say that those boring black suits make you feel better about yourself, I will be dragging you to any therapist that will take us for at least five dollars.”

“Five dollars?”

“Maybe less if I can negotiate.”

“Hey!”

Tony learns how to have fun. He loves it.

Rhodey makes him go to record stores and find the bargain bin, and they play the warped records and laugh as voices go up and down in pitch. Tony blasts Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden until the RA begs him to go to bed and Rhodey throws all of his pillows off of his bed.

In return, Tony teaches Rhodey how to read other’s facial expressions, dress for any occasion and be the best-looking there, as well as avoiding any sort of conflict by bringing up past embarrassments.

“Are you serious about the color of my shoe affecting my social standing?” Rhodey asks, trying to shove his foot into a shoe that was a brown color that Tony had described as a “golden mahogany.”

“Yes, I’m dead serious.”

“No fucking wonder everyone says eat the rich all of you are so fucking pretentious. It’s brown, Tony.”

“Tell that to any high society woman over fifty.”

“I will.”

As it turns out, he ends up doing it much sooner than anticipated.

Tony’s parents come to visit.

They call him Anthony. Which is gross. Rhodey hasn’t used the name “Anthony” in about six months.

“I wasn’t aware that you were his roommate,” his mother says.

“Well, here I am,” Rhodey says. “Name’s also on the information they sent out to the parents about the living situations.”

Tony tenses as his parents brush off the obvious comment on how little they actually know about his situation and move right into the room.

Maria stops at the huge poster of a rock band.

“I assume that this is...James’?”

“No,” he says timidly. “It’s...it’s mine. Their use of movement on the guitar strings-”

“Take it down,” Maria demands. “It’s unsightly.”

“Oh give the kid a break,” Howard says tiredly. “For once he’s not listening to you talk about the merits of paisley prints.”

“I’m training our son for a more successful life than yours,” Maria hisses. “Of course, you’d have to stay away from your friend Jack to understand that.”

“Rhodey, leave,” Tony says. “Trust me, it gets messier from here.”

He does think about it. How easy it would be to walk out and check in with a couple of his other friends and talk about how crazy Tony’s parents are. How he could check back in near dinner time and then Tony could tell him all about how terribly it went.

But Tony already looks terrible, and he’s doing that weird thing with his hands where he wrings them and then remembers he’s not supposed to wring them and makes it worse.

“No,” Rhodey says. “I am staying until the bitter end. Who knows? Maybe I can give your mom a heart attack when I ask her the difference between kelly and forest green.”

Tony grins.

“You can leave any time, it’s about to get...interesting.”

Tony’s family is quite dysfunctional. They can put on a good front in public, for what it’s worth.

Howard is impressed that Rhodey’s planning on going into the Air Force and then talks about Captain America for a lot of the dinner. Rhodey is very uncomfortable and then asks about business and Maria rolls her eyes and orders another glass of wine.

After Howard finishes up talking about some contract and making vague threats against businesses that Rhodey thinks might actually be in trouble, it’s Maria’s turn.

“So, Rhodey, where is your family from?”

“We live in the Boston area,” Rhodey answers.

“And what do your parents do?”

“Dad works as a consultant for a local construction company, and my mom works as a high school history teacher. They both like their jobs.”

“Hm,” Maria remarks, and it’s so light and casual and yet so cutting. Tony can see how Rhodey squirms, and he can’t just let it stand.

It’s one thing for Maria to cut her own son down until he’s nothing. Still fucked up, but Tony can handle it. He’s been handling it for years.

“Rhodey, how did your mom come to want to know she liked teaching?” Tony asks. “That sounds like it could be really hard to figure out.”

“Oh, well it all started when she was in high school and wanted to change how one of her teachers treated students. It was a really inspiring moment for her.”

“That sounds really cool,” Tony says. “What does she like most about her job?”

“Probably the kids,” Rhodey says.

The conversation carries on about Rhodey’s family until their dinner arrives and his mother manages to cut in with more questions.

“So, what else does your mother do?”

“She volunteers at the local food kitchen and helps some of the younger kids at the after-school program,” Rhodey answers. “She also makes a mean Thanksgiving turkey.”

“Would you look at that,” Tony says. “Mrs. Rhodes sounds like a fine cook, I wish I could say the same for you, mother.”

“Oh?”

Howard actually laughs at that as he signs for the bill.

“The kid is right, Maria. At some points I think your kitchen is only used for decoration.”

“Oh, and you know how to cook, Mr. Stark?” Maria asks, raising her eyebrows. “I’d love to see you make anything other than coffee.”

“I’ll make toast.”

Rhodey laughs, and so does Tony.

“Ready to go?” Tony asks, and part of it is a way to get away from an isolated conversation, and part of it is to make his parents leave for their hotel room sooner.

“Tony, I want to have a talk with you before we retire for the night,” Maria says, and Tony tenses up.

Rhodey can’t protect him from that, and he squeezes Tony’s hand as they walk behind his parents.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers.

“Maybe,” Tony says. “Maybe.”

Rhodey goes into their building, and Howard waits in the car. He nods to Tony on his way out.

“You’ve...changed,” mother says.

“Well, that’s how humanity goes,” Tony says dryly, looking anywhere but her eyes.

“Rock music? These snappish remarks towards your own mother? I don’t know if this college was such a good idea.”

“It is,” Tony says. “I just...learned new things and incorporated it into my life. Nothing the matter with that.”

“Nothing wrong with that?” Maria reiterates, surprised look on her face. “Rock music is for other people, you know things that others don’t know! You can perform violin and piano, you don’t have to listen to the personal manifestation of a headache!”

“And if I like that headache?!” Tony asks. “If I like something that’s outside of what you approve, why so angry about it? Is it because you finally can’t control every single aspect about my identity? Is it because I’m not like your perfect little toy that you can make walk and talk how you like?”

“You know it’s not that.”

“Isn’t it?” Tony asks. “Because you want me to change every single interest that I’ve found I like by myself. I bet you want me to listen to Bach for fun.”

“I do not want you to change from who you are,” Maria says. “You have eaten at the finest restaurants in the world and now you brag about making something called ramen in a microwave. A microwave?!”

“A surprising amount of families in America have them,” Tony says. “And I’m a college student! I’m supposed to eat crappy food and then laugh about it in twenty years!”

Maria turns red, and her lips screw up into a tight line.

“I don’t think you should be here,” Maria says. “You’re forgetting your place. Your roommate is...”

“My roommate is what,” Tony starts, glaring at her. “My roommate is what, mother? You want to honestly finish that sentence?”

“He’s not good enough!” she yells at him. “You are a Stark!”

Tony stares at her for a moment. And then another moment.

“Leave,” he says. “Get the hell out of here.”

“You don’t tell me-”

“I do,” Tony says, using his full height to his advantage. “You can tell me how many times I’ve fucked up as many times as you want, but you never talk about James that way ever again.”

He twists on his heel, forcefully opening the door to the dormitory and not once looking back.

Rhodey finds Tony back in his room when he gets back from getting ready for the night, and Tony is clutching a pillow and laying face down on the bed.

“You know, you’ll have to turn over eventually to get some fresh air.”

“Leave me to die, Rhodey. Oh my god.”

“That bad?”

“That bad. She’s probably going to try and put me in a prestigious college or some shit.”

“Oof. Wanna fake your death and run away?”

“Please.”

“Well, too bad. I have a test next week, and you need to do your poetry notes.”

“But poetry sucks.”

“It only sucks because you don’t like modern poetry, suck it up and pull it out of your ass or something.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Maria is trying very hard to get her son away from MIT and towards a fancy school in Europe. She doesn’t even care where, just away from his roommate and his classic rock posters and the dormitory. Anthony needs an environment where he can focus on networking, meeting more people.

Howard says no.

He can’t even bother to remember her son’s birthday, and he says “no.”

“We need Anthony to go to an American school, and nothing is better besides maybe Cal Tech, and he’ll have to finish another year of college and Hammer Industries can use that as a sign of an unsteady heir.”

“Well then get rid of his roommate.”

“I’m not doing that, you’re asking for a PR death sentence.”

“He’s a bad influence.”

“No he’s not,” Howard says tiredly. “The kid is finally standing up for himself, and you hate that.”

“I don’t hate that he can be his own person.”

“You just wish he were his own person under your specifications,” Howard drawls. “He’s staying at MIT, that’s final.”

“Hmph.”

Howard rolls his eyes.

“Go back to planning whatever charity gala you’re hosting this week, honey. I’m sure things will be fine.”

Maria doesn’t speak against her husband, just fumes and decides she’s going to try to get Jarvis’ opinion.

Edwin is also a flat no.

“He will not forgive you if you do this,” he says, pouring her tea and adding in one sugar cube. “He loves his school, he talks about it all the time.”

“And what, he calls you?”

Edwin Jarvis realizes he shouldn’t have mentioned this.

“At times, madam. At times. Will that be all?”

“...that will be all.”

Jarvis does bring up a good point. Besides her, of course, he knows Anthony best, even if he does keep calling him Tony. Anthony will grow out of that nickname soon enough.

She has hope for her boy. He will most likely grow out of this silly little phase in life and finally appreciate her lessons.

Tony Stark doesn’t.

Well, he learns her lessons. Can appreciate some of them and how much he hates that he uses them.

But he learns a far more important lesson from Rhodey, and it shapes everything:

“You’re your own person, and you’re far better as your own person,” Rhodey says. “I wanted to kick the shit out of you when we first lived together.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did!” Rhodey explains, gesturing with his coffee mug and getting yet another stain on the pillow. (Laundry again. Ugh.) “You talked like you were from a movie from the forties, it sucked.”

“Oh, you mean the transatlantic accent?”

“It’s pretentious, just ditch it. You’re interesting enough to listen to on your own. I listen to you talk about how much you hate Picasso sculpture, don’t I?”

“You do,” Tony admits.

“So then be yourself. Use what your mom taught you sometimes, but otherwise don’t.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I’m a fucking genius.”

Tony snorts.

“Okay, Mr. ‘I Forgot to Run the Dishes Again.’”

“I already said I was sorry!”

Tony takes Rhodey’s advice into account when he walks into any board room. He wears the worst possible shoes with every single suit, usually uses all sorts of cultural references that fly over the old board members’ heads.

He does things his way. It’s unconventional, it’s unpredictable, and it earns him a reputation.

He’s in an interview in a suit and patterned tie (patterned with tiny robots), and the woman is smiling in a plastic way on the other side.

“Now, a lot of people are saying you’re taking the business world by storm with your unconventional methods and personality. What helped you formulate this, your father?”

“Oh god no,” Tony says, laughing. “He’d probably curse me to hell and back for even wearing this tie. My mother would drag me back down to hell again for this.”

“Then who helped you with this?”

“Rhodey, who else?” Tony asks. “He always gives the best advice, even if I’ll deny that about fifteen minutes later. He really is the reason that I’m who I am today.”

“Seems like a great guy.”

“He is. He always is,” Tony says with a grin. “Except, of course, when he doesn’t fold his laundry, that bastard.”

The interviewer laughs and moves on, but Tony smiles to himself.

He doesn’t have to be the best, he just has to be Rhodey’s. That’s all that matters.

#lovelyirony writes #maria stark #howard stark #tony stark #rhodey #ironhusbands #kind of #i'm hinting at it and i didn't outright rlly say shit but y'all know me so you should know this #anyways tony DOES develop his own personality and rhodey hates him for like three months

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hopelesslygazingthestars · 4 years ago

Text

Update: A Dance Of Love And Duty

- Engulfed By Dragon Fire

Elia/Rhaegar (+ mentions Elia/Ashara)

Elia Martell was the prized sun of Dorne. Her mother had searched high and low for a match worthy of such light. Yet, as knowledgeable and formidable as the old Princess of Dorne had been, even she could not have predicted that in the Seven Kingdoms only dragon-fire was looked upon.

Elia did not know she could hate a person so much. But she did. She hated her husband.

She hated how he made her feel; how she beamed in the shadows as the Silver Prince defeated Ser Barristan in the final tilt, how she clapped as he looped the crown of winter roses over his lance and started his horse in her direction, and how she bowed as he rode past her.

Her face burned like the feverish Dornish sun in utter humiliation when Rhaegar laid the wreath of flowers onto the lap of Lyanna Stark. He named a maiden barely a woman grown the Queen of Love and Beauty, and with that single act, undid all their months-long efforts to see their ascension to the Iron Throne.

Not only had he insulted her before the lords of Westeros, but simultaneously disrespected the Warden of the North and his own cousin by choosing Robert Baratheon’s betrothed.

However, Elia’s hurt extended beyond the insult given, and the gasps of shock, and the Mad King’s cackling; hers was a breath-taking anguish from broken treaties.

And when the wolf girl accepted the roses, looking as embarrassed as Elia felt, the Dornish princess somehow schooled her pained expression into one of unphased indifference. Despite the boiling in her blood, and the prince inside her that fussed in protest; Elia refused to crumble. She would not prove the lies of Dornish savages right, nor the tales of her unworthiness for the beloved Targaryen prince.

“Are you not furious?”

Oberyn seethed when she fastened her hand around his wrist so tightly that she drew blood. Prince Lewyn and Arthur also had their hands on Oberyn in anticipation, but Elia saw that both men battled their own fury too.

“A fire rages inside me hot enough to make even dragons sweat,” Elia replied lowly as she lifted her chin proudly and kept herself very still, hyper aware of all the eyes watching the commotion at the Stark stands.

She was reminded again that the dragons had engulfed the sun, when she noted that none outside of her own retinue even cared as to observe for her reaction.

“Whatever you would have us do, let me be the first to get my hands on him.” Ashara snarled through gritted teeth.

Although Elia had never felt such a strong desire to kill Rhaegar, to incinerate him from the inside out, violence was not her reaction.

“You will do nothing.”

Oberyn and Ashara’s heads snapped to her in unison, for as hot-tempered and blinded by love as they were, they could not see what Elia knew.

“But-”

“I, and I alone shall deal with my husband.” She spat out the term she once said in endearment.

Tearing her eyes away from the display, she saw Oberyn gauge her before relenting; but Ashara, remained tense like she was contemplating a most terrible act of treason.

“Ser Arthur, please escort Lady Ashara to her quarters.”

“Elia I will not-”

“Immediately.” She commanded.

Arthur all but lifted and dragged Ashara from her side, and luckily, the spitting protests were largely overshadowed by Brandon Stark being physically restrained by his brother and kinsmen.

If Elia once questioned her husband’s affinity for madness, she certainly no longer did now. She thought him absolutely insane, especially when he turned his horse towards her. Whatever act of reconciliation he intended was of no interest to her. She would not give the Westerosi the satisfaction of a reaction, but she also refused to be remembered as having been remotely in favour of Rhaegar’s actions. Thus, heartbeat still thundering in her ears, her hands tightened on the material of her foreign robes, and she turned away just as Rhaegar finally acknowledged her.

The Dornish party followed without instruction. Dorne was a proud kingdom, and a snub to her, was a snub to them all. She walked with a strength her brittle bones had never known, and for the first time, she wore the skin of the Queen she intended to be. Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken.

When she eventually reached her chambers, she noticed the decorated red and black walls, Rhaegar’s beloved harp, dragons on every surface, and yearned to tear it all apart.

“Leave me be.”

Reluctantly, her retinue left, and when the door shut, her resolve collapsed.

Traitorous tears pricked at her eyes and her hands shook violently suppressing a volatile rage. Frantically, she searched for something that might anchor and remind her of home – of her. She laughed bitterly when it dawned that she too – pregnant with his promised prince – was a belonging of Rhaegar Targaryen.

She grabbed the closest item to her, ironically, a vase of winter roses, and with all her strength heaved it at the window. It shattered on impact and splinters embedded into her palm. Staring down at the crystalline glass pieces smeared by blood, they almost appeared like rubies.

The crimson mess reminded her of the fateful prophetic dream which had led her to Rhaegar. Fantasies in which she accepted offerings of dripping rubies and winter roses. Elia cursed Nymeria’s gifts and the gods that had carved out a life of failed promises. A suffocating darkness swirled in the pit of her stomach, for she knew, as minor as Rhaegar’s actions were, they were the beginning of something far worse. She knew with vivid clarity that if he humiliated her once, he would do it again.

Still, she could not decide which pain was worse – the public embarrassment or the private heartbreak. She did not care so much if he thought the Stark girl more beautiful, or even wished to bed her, but their marriage was a political identity separated from such sundry as personal feelings. Elia was his lawfully wedded wife, his queen-to-be, and mother of his heirs and with that single act he had threatened her position.

Granted, their marriage had not been without its challenges, but not even the worst fights ever made her feel so violated, betrayed, and so completely debased.

Elia was bought out of her musings when she heard raised voices from beyond the door. She did not need to open it to know it was Rhaegar and Ashara.

“Is this not exactly what you wanted?!”

“Do you expect me to thank you for this-”

Elia opened the door, and both sets of purple eyes turned to her. She found it strange how despite being such similar shades, violet orbs filled her with life, and indigo ones, with vitriol.

“I just wanted to make sure you were…” Ashara divulged, noticing her bleeding hand.

Ashara turned sharply, but Arthur appeared suddenly, and grabbed her wrist before she could throw a fist. She struggled against him and only calmed when Elia’s voice sounded.

“Asha, I’m alright, you don’t need to lose your decency over this,” she answered, voice wavering.

Ashara gave her a once over, before searching her eyes for the truth.

Elia could not find it in herself to smile, no matter how pleased she was that Ashara had remained loyal despite everything she put her through.

The white cloak put her down, but his grip on her wrist did not falter.

“I do need you to do something for me, however…”

“Anything.”

“…call upon lady Lyanna.”

Ashara looked like everything in her wanted to protest but she simply nodded, and Elia closed the door to address her husband.

Before she could unleash hell-fire upon him, he pulled them together into a tight embrace. She felt overheated and suffocated in his arms rather than comforted, and she knew that was exactly what he attempted to do.

“Listen to me.” It came out hard, and Elia felt his words in her body.

Where her heart once skipped a beat at his meagre affection, now it repulsed her, and she forced herself from his grip.

“Elia, wife, I know what it looks like, but I couldn’t explain –”

“No. I deserve an explanation for this. Explain why you have insulted and humiliated me for all the realm to see! Where is the husband that rallied against his King and father in defence of his family, where is that man?”

Passing her for Lyanna was a public message that Elia was lacking in his eyes and validated the anti-Dornish sentiments of everyone who thought her unworthy of Rhaegar. Worse still, she knew his display damaged her place in their future court, because Rhaegar’s snub reinforced the insult Aerys dealt her at Rhaenys’ presentation. She wanted to know what was so worth besmirching her dignity.

“I am right here, except –” he implored, but she was firm in her resolve.

For so long, she had withered away in his shadow, hoping to secure their future. Yet, that was not who she was raised to be, and formerly-quelled Martell fire returned anew.

“I want to know why.” Her voice was steel made sound.

He gestured for her to come, but she would not, and resignedly he moved to her, hand reaching for her swollen belly, then for her injured hand. Again and again, she jerked away from his touch. Rhaegar had a history of adeptly slithering his way out of strife and into her heart and she refused to be disarmed by tender touches or conciliated by soft words.

Elia glared at him with chilly hostility, until her ice extinguished his fire, and he relented.

“I met her for the first time on the search for the Knight of the Laughing Tree. I thought I had found him, and when I unmasked the perpetrator, it was her…” he explained.

Rhaegar’s search last several days and now that Elia knew he was with her, she wondered just what had developed.

“... she surprised me. She is strong and wilful, even in the face of me and…”

Despite the situation, Elia could hear the warmth in his voice and her blood ran cold. It was one thing that he might wish Lyanna his mistress, it was another that he might wish her in his heart. Especially, when Elia had cut away pieces of herself so that she could fit in there.

“…she had noble reasons for entering the lists, and performed so valiantly I didn’t think it fair that she not be recognised somehow. I only wished to honour her.”

“By dishonouring me,” she concluded.

“That was never my intent.”

“And yet that was the result.”

She knew Rhaegar believed her naïve to the great lords of Westeros, but Elia could see greater than he, the precarious position they were in, and she saw the iron throne melting beneath them. That he could be so short-sighted vexed her.

“Your actions will not be received well by court, and we can probably kiss goodbye to any great council without Lord Stark or Robert, likely Jon Arryn too.” She commented.

“I can make amends,” he insisted adamantly.

Elia sighed deeply, and ran her hands through her hair, attempting to preserve the churning anger within. She was not satisfied with his answers, and she understood her husband well enough to know when he placated her with half-truths. Rhaegar was not dumb and yet he made an extremely ill-advised decision. He broke chivalric code and alienated two paramount families in one stroke, it was an insult to her and to the perceived honour of Lyanna. Despite all these considerations, Rhaegar still chose to do it. Elia wondered if Rhaegar’s actions were actually designed to appeal directly to Lyanna herself, and that painted everything in a new light.

“Do you love her?”

There was something about the mere mention of Lyanna which lit up his face in a way that nothing else ever did, and Elia knew the answer, even if he did not yet.

“I love our family,” he answered, moving closer.

There was no true love between them, and Elia was exhausted of pretending otherwise, to him, and to herself.

“That’s not what I asked… do you love Lyanna?”

Silver brows knotted in confusion and she simply observed, willing him to say the words.

“Why – so you can run back to Ashara?” He snapped.

Before she could stop herself, she slapped his face, causing him to double over. She knew it wrong to strike her husband, her future king, but that he even attempted to drag Ashara’s name into it enraged her. More than that, she wanted him to feel a fraction of the pain she had endured.

“I did everything you asked! I have given you everything, and yet again I am left with nothing but hurt!”

Her chest burned, searing flames of betrayal and shame engulfing her because she hated that it affected her so, because it meant that somehow, she still loved him, despite no longer wanting to.

“I know, I didn’t m–”

Elia was tired of giving to a man that took her for granted, and always loved something else more; and left her with nothing but measly scraps. However, she would not allow him to rob her of the last thing she had left, her voice.

“I sacrificed for the future of your family name because that’s what you needed. I abandoned my home, my traditions AND Ashara because that’s what you asked…”

She had done the impossible and pushed away the person she loved the most. For too long, she endured dragon-fire and now that she was nearly ash, her own inferno awakened.

“I did EVERYTHING. I gave up my body for you despite –”

Her voice faltered when old resentments surfaced.

“Despite what?”

“Despite the child that died in my body for me to mourn alone.”

He looked back at her with surprise and an expression akin to shame washed over him. His actions had broken the unbreakable and he did not even know it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was a whisper.

For a moment, his indigo irises looked so haunted Elia almost felt remorse for informing him so callously.

She laughed hollowly, dark and filled with resentment.

“You know why.”

And he did. His silence told as much. She would have been cast aside for a mistress sooner.

He reached for her swollen stomach, and this time, she allowed the caress. Inside her, the babe kicked hard. So hard it made her wince. Rhaegar felt it on his hand, and maneuvered to his knees, resting his hands and head on her belly.

Elia looked away, resigned to the inevitable. She did not want him manipulating her into remembering feelings she would rather forget.

“I’m sorry Elia.”

What he was sorry for, Elia did not know, but she nodded and said nothing more.

She distanced herself, and when she met his pensive gaze, translucent eyes swirled with some realisation. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, before syllables formed.

“This means – he could – he is th–”

“If you mention your damned prophecy right now, I swear by the gods I will scream bloody murder Rhaegar.”

Once she recovered from rehashed emotions, she found herself burned out. They stood on opposite ends of their chambers staring at each other like strangers.

Elia breathed hard, her eyes watery, and hands balled into fists. Rhaegar hung his head low in shame, looking guilty and afraid.

“Love, I can forgo, but I demand your respect, Rhaegar.”

“I would give you both. What can I do to mend us?” His tone was pleading.

However, Elia was well past giving him the benefit of the doubt. Rhaegar had broken her trust for the last time.

In that moment, Furiosa haunted her, making her remember her duty to Dorne.

‘You must ensure your husband sits that throne and that your children do after him… Do not let yourself be duped... And if something needs to be said, do not hesitate to speak for yourself.’

Elia was not so young as to forget the explicitly anti-Dornish Blackfyre rebellions, nor how a noble-mothered bastard could pose a threat to Dornish-blooded monarchs. Elia needed to hold onto Rhaegar no matter how much she despised him.

“If a mistress it what you so desire then seek whoever you wish, discreetly, but I beg you, not Lyanna... and not until you have fulfilled your bargains to me.”

Elia carried another child, despite her health, and pushed Ashara away as he had asked. Now it was his turn to make her a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Her gaze pierced into him and he shifted uncomfortably under it.

“Rhaegar.” She prompted.

His reluctance told her everything she needed to know. Rhaegar loved Lyanna. Yet, if she had sacrificed her heart for him, it was only fair that he do the same.

“Very well. Your wish is my command.”

#fanfic #dorne #elia martell #house martell #elia x ashara #fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf #elia x rhaegar #lyanna #lyanna x rhaegar #anti rhaegar #asoiaf fic #harrenhal

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nthngbxtfanfics · 5 years ago

Text

Mine - Wonho scenario

Of course you can!!!

Is there a way I could escape?

Is there a way I could detach my heart from that strong feeling?

Is there a way I can find peace?

You wanted to hide, run and never see this place again. You hated this place, the place you were supposed to be happy with, since you’ve been able to make a living for your brother. But sadly, you’ll be forced to never see him again. How is he supposed to live, to eat, to sleep, without you? He was still too young to live alone. The grandmother, who sold apples from her own trees, was kind enough to look after him, till your return. The memory of your promise to your little brother echoed through your mind.

“I’ll be back before the sun sets and I’ll bring something delicious.” - that was the promise. These words were like thorns in your heart. The tears, ran down your soft cheeks, cheeks that were tinted a cherry red. Your silent sobs are unheard by the guards, but echoed through the darkness. You wanted to leave, but you were locked in a golden cage for eternity.

Small rays of light shined on your face, as they broke through the small gaps of the window above you. A new day began, a new day of pain and emptyness. You sat up and abandoned the thin matress on the floor. You felt cold and hugged your arms around your fragile body. The room was unfamiliar and unknown to you. Step by step, your eyes wandered around the room, searching for any sign of comfort. Curious, your body found it’s way to the door, seeking for freedom. Your hand reached the door knop, turning and twisting it. Nothing worked. Knocking? Too naiv, they wouldn’t let you go that easy, if you asked. You dropped your hand to the side, ready to go back onto the matress. But as the door opened, you stepped backwards. You were shook, you couldn’t understand what was going to happen next. The door revealed a man, with light hair, covering his forhead. “Follow me.” The man truned around, giving you no single glance back. You hesitated first. Should you really follow him? But you had no choice, as the man grew unpatiend and glared down on you. Without a single second thought, you ran up after the man. You walked down a long hallway, red carpet covering the floor as drawings hung from the wall beside you. Opposite, were windows - all perfectly aligned, revealing a small garden in the middle of the building. The man in front of you guided you to a locker room. “Change, you can’t walk around like a peasant. As a servant you have to mirror the masters prestige and not harm it.” The man handed you a black dress, an white apron and shoes. Your fingertips brushed against the fabric. It was soft, such a rich black fabric was something you’ve never seen. Not even the richer in your village had those fabrics. “I’ll be waiting outside for you.” The man closed the door, so you were able to change, as you were ready, you stepped out of the room. The dress was wide, but fitted your bust perfectly. The length of the skirt wasn’t too long, enough to work in. “Tie your hair away. It will get in your way.” you tried to tie your hair together, but struggled as a stinging pain went through your fingertips. Your hands left your hair to observ the source of pain. There were various cuts, questionly marking your hands, you couldn’t recall where they’ve been from. “Here, you should tie them like that.” The man grew annoyed as you took too long to do your hair. His face showed a sign of distaste. Your eyes didn’t leave the marks on your hand, still questioning the source. “You’ve been running around the forrest and fell multiple times, as we tried to catch you. Don’t worry, they’ll heal. Here take those, these will cover them up until you’re fully healed. Our master wants a clean look and doesn’t like to look at a mess.” he handed you a pair of white handkerchiefs.

“Thank you.” was the only phrase you could say in that moment. Your mind was numb, qestioning nothing anymore.

“You don’t have to thank me. My name is Kihyun, I’ll be incorporating you. First off the rules. Rule number one and most important - don’t talk to the master if not said other wise. Don’t look at him, always keep a distance between you two. Rule number two - everything has to be within the given time. All things are scheduled till the last second. Don’t take too long and be fast without mistakes. Rule number three - Look clean, as I said before, you represent our masters prestige. Those are the main rules, I’ll tell you more later. Now we don’t have time. The Master will wake up soon and breackfast has to be prepared. Follow me.” Kihyun went ahead, not leaving time for you to comprehent what he said. You mindlessly followed him to the kitchen. The next hall seemed different from the one you’ve been before. Your feet became heavy, as you came closer to the door of the kitchen, the smell grew stronger and secondas became faster. Kihyun threw the heavy door open, for you to enter. The people in the room turned their attention towards you two, they bowed down as soon as their eyes landed on the man next to you.

“Good morning Mr Kihyun.” said all in inusion. Kihyun nodded his head as his eyes roamed around the room until they landed on a certain person.

“Changkyun” a boy who seemed your age or older got surprised by the sudden mention of his voice. You could see how he catched all the items he had previously in his hand and laid them on the iron table. He wiped his dirty hands aganst his white apron and set the fabric on his head as it slipped over his head. Changkyun made his way towards you two and walked past obstacles.

“Yes Mr Kihyun.” As the man fully stood before us, he bowed his upper body and Kihyun continued

“This is Y/N, she’ll help you with the ingredients. Don’t give her too many tasks, we can’t make her mess up. The Master wouldn’t like it.” Changkyun looked you up and down with an unreadable expression.

“Yes Mr Kihyun.”

“Good I’ll leave you then, I’ll be picking you up after the Breakfast is finished and the Master has left to his studies.” Kihyun walked out of the kitchen without giving you a second glance.

“Yes Mr Kihyun.” Changkyun bowed to the retreating form of Kihyun and turned his attention to you. “My name is Changkyun, I’m preparing the side disches for the Master. Follow me.” Changkyun walked ahead, while again, walking around obstacles. You both reached Changykuns working spot, the table was full of different kinds of ingredients. A range from any kind of fruits to vegetables and different kind of meats. All for small side dishes. “These ingredients are from our garden at the back of the mansion. I collect them every morning so they could be fresh. They’re not only for breakfast, but also for lunch, dinner and anytime the Master wishes something simple in between. Today, the Master will have guests over, that’s why we have so much over here.” Changkyun explained everything through. The boy hasn’t gave you another glance since the first time you saw eachother. You didn’t know what to answer and just nodded along. Changkyun instructed you to take out the seeds in every cherry. He helped you doing so, as it was extremely much as they have to be done for most of the dishes today.

Time went by and you had no other task for that time. The breakfast got served on the table and you were supposed to wait in the kitchen. The people in the kitchen weren’t allowed to work while the Master was eating, so they waited for him to arrive. You couldn’t hear anything except for your own and Changkyuns breathing. Nervousness creeped up in your body as it was painfully silent, until you heard the sound of a door opening.

“Master, the table is served. Please take a seat.” you heard an unfamiliar voice from the other side of the door. The dining room.

“Thank you Hyungwon.” The voice of the master drowned your body in coldness. A shiver ran down your spine as your body started to get more nervous any minute. The chair crunched against the floor and echoed throughout the halls. Minutes passed and the sound of forks and spoons touching eachother was so loud, it felt like it was right next to your ear. “Hm. The cherry sorbet smells pretty different.” Your body stiffened at the dish mentioned and Changkyun seemed unfazed. “It has a certain scent to it. I can’t remember smelling it that way. Hyungwon, do we have a new addition in our house?” Your body froze and your eyes widened the double size. Your limbs grew suddenly cold, you felt like passing out but still tried to keep your ground.

“I apologize my Master, but I don’t recall recruiting someone new.”

“Hm. Call Kihyun over, I think he knows more.”

“Yes Master?” You could hear Kihyuns voice, it was softer then before.

“Did you brought someone knew into my house?”

“Yes Master. I found a maiden outside the doors of your mansion. She asked for help and I took her inside.”

“Without my permission?” The Masters voice sounded curious as his voice rose in a teasing manner.

“I apolpgize for my selflessness, but she seemed like someone who fits into your prestige.” Kihyun kept his head low, not looking at the Master.

“If you say so. I’d like to see her face, so I can confirm your decision. Call her in.”

“Yes Master.” Kihyun listened and walked over to the door of the kitchen and opened it without any noise. As Kihyun entered the room, his eyes were roaming through the air, searching for your face. He walked towards you fast and grabbed your hand. Your feet turned to iron, not able to move. “The Master has been calling for you, follow me.”

“I don’t think I can.” Kihyun stopped pulling your hand and turned to you.

“You have to go in there, he wants to see you. Just follow me.” Like a spell, you were following Kihyun into the dining room. Your eyes seached for Changkyuns face, asking for help. But his expression showed you, he couldn’t help you, he felt sorry. Kihyuns grip on your hand got stronger, the closer you got. Your head stayed low as you remembered the rules.

“Well, well.” You stood still infront of the big dining table, staring down the floor. Kihyun took a step forward intoducing you.

“She’s a maiden.” You felt cold, your body tingled from the frozen state you are in. The mans eyes stared you down, you felt naked at the stares of the two men.

“So that sweet smell, comes from you. Did you took out the seeds of every cherry you prepared.” you were able to nod slightly, waiting for the next thing to happen. “That means I can anticipate that sweet smell of yours in every dish prepared with cherrys.” His voice was deep, but soft and calming. He could sing a lullaby and could kill everyone listening to him. “My little maiden, please look up, I wanna see that beautiful face of yours.” Kihyuns body tensed up at his masters words, just like yours. Your body started to shake as you slowly lifted your head, looking away from the man in front of you. “Sweetheart look at me, I wanna see those eyes of yours.” you hesitated, should you really look at him? But he told you so. So you did it, with shaking pupils, your eyes wandered to the source of the voice. Your eyes widened at the sight of the man, who was named as your Master. His silk like skin looked as white as the deepest winter, His lips as red as the cherry sorbet, his eyes shaped like almonds. The beauty he radiated amazed you and left you awestruck. He didn’t seem human, he was like a creature from another dimension. Something like him wouldn’t be alowed in the world of yours. He must be a sin, a sin you easily commit. His smile stretched his cheeks as he fully saw your facial features. “I can’t believe how Kihyun had found such beauty outside my mansion and did not report her to me.”

“I apologize Master, it was late after you went to rest. As this woman appeared at your doorsteps. I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you and your sleep.” Kihyun kept the same position, he seemed tense and you felt bad for him.

“Sure enough, I’m glad I met you today. You really did sweetned my morning. I have to leave for my studies now. I request some tea, make sure it’ll be delivered by our new addition.” The Master left the dining room leaving me and Kihyun alone. Kihyun exhaled as much air as he could and stood straight up again.

“Come, I’ll show you how to serve our Master.” Kihyun turned to you, his eyes softened. Your body relaxed after he gave you a soft smile. He knew how nervous you’ve became and now he started to worry about you. The moment the Master called out for you he knew he had to be nice to you. You nodded and followed Kihyun back into the kitchen. Changkyun ran up to you asking what happened. You explained it to him quickly, as Kihyun dragged you to another corner of the kitchen to help you practice. “You have to hold it down there, but make sure you don‘t burn yourself. The tea is extremely hot.”

“Why did he requested me to do this?” you were curious as to why the master wanted you.

“I don’t know, normally his personal maid is the only one allowed to serve him tea, beside me. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you in the room and helping you.” Kihyun nodded his head as he explained to you how it worked. Eventually you were able to serve it. Kihyun and you pushed the trail up the stairs, to the Masters study. Kihyun knocked on the wooden door twice.

“Come in.” Kihyun opened the door, you entered it while pushing the tray to the middle of the room. Kihyun motioned you to push it nect to the Masters seat. The Master read a book and didn’t move an inch. Silently, you’ve been preparing the tea, Kihyun helped you. “Kihyun.” you both were startled by the sudden voice in front of you and both of you stopped your movements.

“Yes Master?”

“I think our little maiden, can do that on her own. I want you to leave us alone.” Kihyun was hesitant and scared, he don’t wanted to leave you alone with your Master.

“But - “

“Wasn’t I clear enough Kihyun?” Kihyun couldn’t do anything else then nod to the Masters command. He left the room, after giving you a soft glance, telling you everything will be fine.

As the sound of the closing door echoed through the room. The Master laid the book in his hand down onto the table next to him. Your head hung low, avoiding the Masters gaze. Your eyes fixed on the floor, the Masters feet began to move as he stood up from his seat. The sound of his steps became louder as he came closer to your side.

“You smell so sweet my little maiden. I hope the tea has your smell in it.” The Master came closer and closer as his broad chest touched your shoulderblades. You could feel his strong muscels on yours. his body was cold but firm. You felt no heartbeat coming from his chest. His breath tickled the back of your neck, his lips hovering against your ear. His nose loosing itself in your hair. He breathed in your scent as your body froze, your heart beated faster, your mind bocame dizzy. “My little maiden, how’s your name?” His smooth voice sended a tingling sensation down your back, air cought up in your chest, your throat grew tight.

“It’s Y/N.” the sentence came out low and quiet, but the man behind you could hear it perfectly.

“And how did my little Y/N end up in my territory?”

“I don’t know, the only thign I can remember was Mr Kihyun taking me to get dressed.”

“Hm. So Kihyun helped you get dressed. I see. Has he seen your exposed soft skin of yours.” You shook your head to a no. Your Masters voice became deeper and annoyed as he spat out the sentence. “Did he touched you?” You shook your head again. “But why do I smell him on your hair and on your hand? i also smell a little from my little chef Changkyunie on you.” Your Master took your hand and lifted it upwards.

“Mr Kihyun helped me with my hair, he took my hand to follow him to your dining room as you called for me. I helped Changkyun with the Cherrys as you might remember. Master.” Your felt small as you stuttered every word through your lips.

“Please don’t call me Master. I don’t like that name out of your seewt little lips. My Name is Wonho, my little Y/N.”

“I apologize Master Wonho.” you bowed your head down as Wonho stood straight, but he kept his body close to yours.

“Do you know my little maiden, who I actually am?” You shook your head to his answer. “Too sad, beacause I feel like I want to sink my teeth down onto your soft skin and taste that sweet blood of yours.” Your eyes widened by his words, fear made your blood run cold. Was this your death? His fingertips glided down your neck, leaving the spot with a cold feeling. “But I won’t do it, I’m a gentleman and someone like me just doesn’t bite into someones neck without permission.” Wonho retreated fully from behind you and circled your body, standing fully in front of you, observing you. “Look at me.” you did as you were told, with shaking eyes, you managed to fully look at the man in front of you. His face was expressionless, his skin mild and his statue build like a god. “There you go. From now on, I want you around me, only me. Because you’re mine and only mine.”

#monsta x #monsta x scenario #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagine #monsta x imagines #monsta x reaction #monsta x reactions #monsta x wonho #shin wonho #wonho scenarios #wonho #wonho scenario #kpop #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios

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merryfortune · 4 years ago

Text

Listen to Iron Maiden, Maybe

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Ship: Takeru/Yusaku

Word Count: 1.5k

Synopsis: Yusaku comes around to Takeru’s place for the first time.

Takeru was nervous because he had never had a guest around, at least not at his own place. Yusaku was nervous because he made it a strict point to never be a guest because he disliked feeling indebted. Together, they were both nervous and that made things very awkward in the doorway.

“So…” Yusaku said.

“So....” Takeru agreed in the similar intonation and then snapped out of it for a brief second of clarity and inspiration; he swung his arm back. “So,” he said, “this is my humble abode.”

Yusaku looked at him sceptically, but shook his head. He came inside and took off his shoes.

“Thank you for having me.” he said.

“Thanks for comin’ ‘round.” Takeru replied.

Yusaku looked around as he ventured further into Takeru’s apartment. Humble… was putting it nicely but it was nicer than his. That made him feel kind of bad as he looked at the creamy colour walls, they were warm coloured and didn’t have a crack in them. The paint wasn’t even peeling but to contrast, the floors were kind of aged, thinning and even shedding, possibly.

“Do you wanna see my room?” Takeru asked, piped up as he followed along behind Yusaku as he shuffled through into Takeru’s living room.

Yusaku glanced behind him and gave a funny look, it was almost a glare but it was also playful in a very grim, even stoic way that only Yusaku could be.

“What?” Takeru shrugged, faux offended. “I haven’t had anyone over since I was, like, eight. Well no one who wasn’t Kiku… but she was basically born as part of the furniture…”

“That’s okay. You can show me your room. Even though… these are all your rooms.” Yusaku replied amused.

Takeru laughed. “Yeah, true.” He scratched the back of his head.

Still, Yusaku wasn’t sure what to expect. Takeru had been in town for all of two months now. So, at the baseline, he was going to expect that everything would have been unpacked by now. Maybe some posters on the walls. He didn’t really know. Somehow, Takeru felt evasive and Yusaku respected that. Over all, what could be expected was probably more of the rest of the house. Thinning carpets, a narrow little bed, the basic amenities.

“Here we go.” Takeru said as he pushed open yet another door in his tiny little apartment that felt somewhat like a rabbit warren, actually.

Yusaku’s eyes bugged as he had a look around. He had expected maybe one or two posters, for things like movies he had never seen and didn’t care about. Maybe a pin up of some woman in a bikini because Takeru did have those kinds of vibes. That might have been in it but no, he had quite the collection.

“Oba-chan gave me a little bit of extra pocket money to buy something nice for myself when I moved out. I think she meant, like, a new fridge or a lounge but instead, I blew it on stuff for my room.” Takeru explained.

Yusaku came in and he sat at the little, low table in the centre of the room. Takeru joined him.

“So, what do you want to do first?” Takeru asked. “Study for the test we have next week or revise our decks?”

“Which do you feel least prepared for?” Yusaku asked, pointed, in turn.

Takeru sighed. “The test…” he confessed, deflating over the table.

“Then let’s do a bit of study. Half an hour, we’ll set a timer or something.” Yusaku said.

“Actually, I’ve got a CD player, how about when we finish a CD?” Takeru suggested.

“Just so long as its quiet…” Yusaku replied. “I don’t really listen to music, I find it distracting.”

Takeru got to his feet, “I’m the complete opposite,” he said and he turned his back on Yusaku so he could sort through his CD collection that he had all neatly lined up in a medium sized wooden book case, “I find it a lot easier to concentrate when there’s background noise.”

“Fair enough.” Yusaku replied.

He squinted over to the bookcase and the titles on the spines of the CDs were too small for him to read, even from about a metre over. A lot of them were darkly coloured with crystalline vertices. It was kind of old school, actually. Yusaku might have been completely out of touch with modern pop culture but even he knew that CDs had been passe for over a decade now.

“This one shouldn’t be too bad…” Takeru said as he popped up to his full height again after scrounging around in a squat.

The CD player was perched on the top of the bookcase, beside yet more CDs and even a jacket and another knickknack of Takeru’s. The CD player made scratchy, clicky noises as Takeru fidgeted around with it; in the meantime, Yusaku got his own stuff out and he pulled out his stationary to set it all up.

“There we go. Give it a minute, it’s a little old.” Takeru said.

“Whatever.” Yusaku said. “Just sit down again.”

Takeru rolled his eyes and bit his tongue, he was very much tempted to sass Yusaku but he was also very tempted to not fail said upcoming test so Yusaku was very much right. He sat back down again and he heard the static of his CD player. Yusaku mustn’t have, however, because his eyes were glued on the study sheet that he had brought over.

“So, is there anything in particular you’re struggling with? I’ve got some practice questions I got off the previous year’s records-”

“Did you hack into the school to find those?” Takeru exclaimed, adorably excited as he interrupted Yusaku.

“...No,” Yusaku replied, “if you paid attention, you would know that we already have access to it through our school emails.”

“Oh.” Takeru laughed. “But yeah, I need help with just about everything.”

“We’ll take it slow then-”

Yusaku could have jumped out of his skin with this second interruption. His eyes went huge as the room, once quiet with only a little bit of static, exploded with the sound of drums and electric guitars.

“Oops?” Takeru hopelessly offered beneath the rolling voice of the singer, it was growly but not illegible noise. To him at least, Yusaku was a little unconvinced as he heard the musical equivalent of scrawled writing.

“Please turn it off.” Yusaku managed to stutter out.

Takeru scrambled to his feet. The CD player still blared until, in his panic, he managed to turn the volume completely off. Takeru sighed and Yusaku was singed by the experienced to say the least. But he came off his hackles once he had taken a few deep breaths.

Yusaku looked around Takeru’s room again. The posters were mostly black with silver writing; depicting people in truly atrocious outfits with huge hair, holding up their hands with middle fingers and giving other punk rock salutes, too.

“So,” Yusaku said, inviting Takeru to sit back down with him, he had turned skittish and guilty all of a sudden, “you like metal music, huh?”

Takeru nodded. “I like it a lot more than flowery pop music.” he said.

“I don’t like pop music either.” Yusaku said.

“To tell the truth, a lot of my collection got handed down to me around my… thirteenth birthday?” he said. “My grandparents didn’t want me listening to it any younger and that was about when my Dad started listening to it. Most of the stuff from, uh, well, last century is his. The newer stuff is obviously mine.”

“Oh…” Yusaku mumbled.

“It makes me feel close to my Dad even though I don’t remember him much… It’s, uh, what’s the word I’m thinking of?”

“Humanizing?” Yusaku guessed.

Takeru nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice to know he felt the same way once… Angry and pent up and stuff. Like in the music. It resonates.”

“I see. That’s nice.” Yusaku told him. He thought, a touch bitterly, how he didn’t even have the faintest connection to his own parents. “Do you want to try again? I mightn’t like this stuff but if it’s interesting to you, I think I can enjoy it.”

Takeru looked up from beneath his glasses and mop of white-red hair. He was fidgety and commiserating, a little afraid of being vulnerable like that with Yusaku.

He was surprised to hear Yusaku say that. He was even more surprised to see that Yusaku had flashed him a smile. His green eyes looked so pretty with his lips upturned. Takeru felt his heart skip a beat and he shook out a nervous smile.

“Thanks.” he said, wholeheartedly.

For a third time, he got to his feet and he turned the volume up on his rickety old CD player. He didn’t know how to tell Yusaku but this was one of his favourite albums but maybe he already knew. According to his grandfather, it was also one of his dad’s favourites as well. He was steady as he pinched the knob, only turning it slightly so that the song, fading into an outro, could only just be heard. He glanced at Yusaku and he didn’t seem like he was disliking at least the faint parts. Takeru sat back down again and Yusaku pushed a study note closer to him.

“I hope this helps.” Yusaku said.

“Yeah, no worries, thanks.” Takeru replied, still smiling.

#firestormshipping #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #takeru homura #yusaku fujiki #writing tag #i don't normally takeyusa but this was fun #i like metalhead!takeru a lot you know

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its-a-branwen-thing · 5 years ago

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The Right Thing

Doing the right thing has been something repeated a lot by our characters this season. Ironwood. Qrow. Oscar. The Ace Ops. Team RWBY. It’s just as much the centerpiece to this volume as trust. Because they all think that their way is the correct way. I definitely think this volume is laying down the narrative groundwork for what really constitutes the idea of the “right thing.” And I’m gonna break it down.

“It’s important not to lose sight of what drives us, love, justice, reverence, but the moment you put your desires before my own, they will be lost to you.”

In E4 of V6, Salem lays into her subordinates after their failure at Haven. It’s all because Cinder acted to put her own needs--her revenge against Ruby, her proclivity for hubris--first. Salem is an absolute ruler and she makes this very clear. She does not have a council. She does not trust those beneath her. She uses fear to control them. And when they fail her she does not forgive them easily. Salem is her own judge, jury, and witness. And when those in her circle do no succeed, she takes matters into her own hands regardless of what it might cost.

Sound familiar?

I made a long post about Ironwood and his character arc and why I think he makes such an amazing fallen hero or, let’s just say it, an anti-villain. This isn’t about Ironwood’s right or wrongness, but I understand the interpretative nature of his decisions and why people feel one way or the other. But this is, in the framework of this show, a definite deterioration of his good standing with our main cast.

Ironwood has always kept his power insular. He has loyal supporters that he earned, I don’t doubt, not by using fear but by being a good leader. Salem’s team is ruled mostly by blind devotion (Tyrian), hunger for power (Cinder), need for revenge (Watts and...Hazel?), and then, like, Stockholm’s Syndrome at this point (Mercury, Emerald--although also because she stans a queen Cinder).

Ironwood’s circle is composed of people who have the same goals in mind as him and who believe in his methods. Even when they become unethical. Winter and the Ace Ops still side with him even knowing it will cost them Mantle. Clover doesn’t question why Qrow needs to be detained he just does it. Because what Ironwood says is the right thing is, to them, the right thing. But it isn’t given to them as a choice, it’s done as a command.

“Someone is about to make a play and I do not trust Leo to stop them.”

“You’ve never trusted anyone but yourself.”

“And for good reason! If Oz had just listened to me from the start.”

I wish I’d included this in my last Ironwood post because it proves he has always been divested of trust.

Watching this scene in V4 again helped me realize that Ironwood has always been a man about power. He hoards his armies and those loyal to him and isolates Atlas to prepare for, what we now know, his plan to launch Amity Tower and reconnect the world. But he fails at that. And what is his immediate reaction? Not to try and work out an alternative with those around him. But to shut them down. And detain them.

“But we have an opportunity to reunite the world, if we launch the tower we can all work together again, we could even call for help. If we can hold out long enough...”

“Sometimes doing the right thing means making tough decisions.”

“You’re right. And I think the right thing to do would be to stand our ground.”

I think this exchange is missed too often. Ruby and Blake both advise Ironwood to take a stand, to “hold out” against Salem’s armies until the tower can be launched. They aren’t asking him for anything more than what he made clear to them in the beginning was what he wanted. And he chooses not to listen to them because it isn’t what he’s judged as a viable plan. Even the Ace Ops, who are witnessing this too, immediately blame RWBY for not being more up front with Ironwood. And it’s sad, because I see exactly why they’re angry. But as Weiss said, “none of this matter right now!” because it doesn’t. Because Salem is here. And the right thing is being pulled in too many directions for it to mean much of anything.

---

“Why couldn’t you just do the right thing? Instead of the thing you were told?”

“Sometimes the right decision’s the hardest to make.”

I have some feelings about this line that I can’t quite articulate without sounding, well, positively bonkers. Because paired with his “someone had to take the fall” it sounds a little too...off? Like it happened already? (Also why did he jump out of the plane first?? I just...so they wouldn’t have his luck and would hopefully be injured in the crash?)

But the point I’m trying to make is that this is where we see what the cost of blind loyalty is. There have been plenty of posts discussing Clover and Qrow and Robyn’s actions and why they did the things they did. But I think, paired with Clover’s manipulation of Robyn, this was a betrayal not only to Qrow but to us, the audience. Because we liked Clover (well, I mean, your mileage may vary). And yet he still did Ironwood’s bidding until the end, even to the point of it costing him his life (again, I know there’s heavy debate around this) because nothing mattered more than his orders, not even his heart reason.

The Ace Ops are inflexible in their loyalty to Ironwood. It’s unconditional. And they believe what they’re doing is right. But our team, RWBY and JNR and Oscar and Qrow, believe in something different. They believe in doing what’s right intuitively. They’re not viewing this war like a chessboard with pieces to be moved at will. Ironwood is doing that, which is why I think Cinder’s “gotcha” at the end is so ironic. Because Salem isn’t the only one playing chess. Ironwood is too.

But our other heroes are not.

Why is Qrow in the drop ship on his way to prison with Robyn at the end of E13? Because he went back instead of escaping or pursuing Tyrian. 

He went back to the scene of a crime that will be pinned on him to be at the side of a dying friend. This directly juxtaposes Clover’s whole character as he was presented in his final moments. There are no rules in Qrow’s world anymore, really, and he isn’t a solider like Clover. Their orders were to apprehend Tyrian. And Qrow let him go. Because something mattered more than that, and that small ownership of self is what’s been shown this season as what separates our heroes from our fallen heroes and their enemies.

---

“My life doesn’t matter!”

“I disagree.”

Penny, a robot designed by the Atlesian military, who has been in Ironwood’s circle this whole time, chooses without hesitation to save Winter instead of go after Cinder. Because Winter’s life mattered more to her than getting Cinder. And in the end, she chooses to go with RWBYJRN and MP and leave behind her position at Atlas. Because it was, to her, the right choice. It is a discussion she has with Winter in various scenes. She doesn’t believe in what Ironwood is doing because he’s ignoring the most important part of what makes people human:

Personal feelings.

Please don’t hurt me.

----

“I am done letting others’ inability to see the big picture get in the way of doing what’s right. Robyn, the Council, this Kingdom...even you.”

Ironwood’s inability to see the smaller side of humanity is what makes him ultimately fall right into Salem’s palm. Because he’s functioning just like she is. Rule absolute. His declaration of martial law speaks to that. While our heroes have always put other things first. Each other, the people of Mantle, the idea of saving someone or staying with someone rather than pursuing a goal that might, in the long run, help “the big picture”. This is precisely what Salem always threatens to snuff out. Those small sparks of hope or justice or love. It’s why Ren’s hesitation is also so important. Because it showed our heroes care more about each other than the “big picture.” And, fantasy or not, humanity in those small moments has always been the right thing here. And some of our cast are missing that piece.

Salem has a relic and a maiden. So do our heroes. But divided, they have a maiden while their enemies have a relic. Salem divided them exactly as she said she would, because Ozpin wasn’t there to talk sense into Ironwood and Oscar wasn’t good enough I guess the trust that was built between him and team RWBY was broken (can’t deny that, Ironwood was pissed they went behind his back and I get it). Doing what’s right isn’t about what makes sense from a standpoint of strategy. It’s about what, inside, our heroes feel is right. We can call it idealistic or naive but remember that’s exactly what Salem fears. And it’s exactly what our heroes need in order to unite themselves again. They need--and I say this with a heavy, heavy sigh--to trust love.

---

“A smaller, more honest soul. It's true that a simple spark can ignite hope, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary. The ability to derive strength from hope is undoubtedly mankind's greatest attribute...which is why I will focus all of my power to snuff it out.”

And that, friends, is why I believe that the right thing is always based on our emotions. Because not relying on them is what cost our tin man his heart. They are what Salem prevents her people from having. And yet having them is what lead Penny to coming into her own as the winter maiden. It’s what fuels Ruby’s silver eyes. It’s what made Pyrrha go back into Beacon Tower even knowing she’d lose. Because it was the right thing to do.

There’s always a case for kindness and love and hope. And I’d like to make it here.

#plants flag on this hill and wriggles it a little #rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby meta #salem #ironwood #i could just tag the whole cast but i wont #long

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worthmawile · 4 years ago

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memories

Memories are a strange thing. Sometimes they come in order, starting from when you were young and moving to the present, other times they jump around, triggered by things you see or hear, or even things you smell. Smell is always the worst. A certain smell can throw you full force into a memory you didn't even know existed, sometimes before you register what it is you're smelling. Sometimes a memory is so powerful you barely notice what's happening in the present, that can be a pleasant distraction, when it's a good memory.

The air is thick with sweet smoke, the sound of chatter and laughter fill the air. I feel a small smile curl on my lips. All are welcomed here, we honor our goddess and she blesses us in return. Many people don't fully believe in gods and goddesses, but I know they are real. They do listen to us, and if you've earned their favor, they will protect you. If you offend them, no protection will spare you. Someone is trying to get my attention, a boy from a town not too far away. I can't recall his name now, but I remember the feeling I always get when he's around, he always makes me feel wanted. Unlike the others, he would actually listen to what I say. He is a good person, but I am different from the townsfolk. I've sworn myself to a life of servitude of my goddess, and She rewards me with Her love and Her blessings. Even though this is the closest I will ever get to this boy, I'm still glad to see him. A young girl from another village is also nearby, she stayed with me here at the temple for several months, she says she wants to be like me one day, so we spend much of our time together. She's good company, she laughs a lot and helps me with all our tasks around the temple. There's a warmth in the air, it runs deeper than the heat of the fires and smoke from the hearth. This is the kind of warmth that you feel right to your soul. It could last a life time if you'd let it.

This time is different, the same warmth is there, but the air is damp and cold. The rusty scent of blood is what brought me here, I prepared the ewe lying on the alter, and threw the best portions onto the flames. The goddess always accepted my offerings, it wasn't pleasant work but that same warm feeling was there. That's how you know She accepts your offerings, you can feel Her love, even if She didn't make any big show of it like some others might. I finish the remainder of the ritual. The young girl still stays at the temple, she helps me with the looms. She's quite good at it, and makes the otherwise boring task somewhat enjoyable. I start walking back to the temple once I've finished my work, a light rain dampens my long dark hair. The most beautiful tapestries in the world hang in the temple, even from afar it's worth stopping for a moment to take in the majesty of it all.

The soft wool runs through my hands as I spin it into threads. I know I've felt it thousands of times, which must be why my hands don't recognize the feeling. There's no fires lit in the small room, I only work by the soft light coming from the sky. It's still grey and damp, the wind blows outside but inside the temple is always safe from that, I still can remember the warmth of the goddess I felt at the alter, but my body doesn't remember it like my soul does. The girl comes in and begins her own work on the loom, she brings with her the warmth of the fire and a story she has heard from some travelers. I never know what her stories are about, but I can see how she loves to tell them. It's really nice to have her around, she brings more life to the place, I've only been here a few months more than her, I came as soon as I was old enough to leave my home. Less than a year, I had served my goddess. And yet I still felt Her love more powerfully, more eternally, and more true than that any man could dream of. Less than a year, and I have gladly devoted the rest of my life to Her.

It's dark. I'm alone in the temple, all the travellers have gone, all the nearby shops have closed for the night, the world sleeps, so should I. No, I'm not alone. Someone is here. I can't see who, I can't see where, but I know when I am alone, and I am not now. "You're very beautiful, far too beautiful to be sworn to servitude of a maiden goddess" His voice cuts through the silence, it is soft, it sounds kind, so why does it feel like my insides are ripping my apart? Terror runs through my veins. Why can I still hear his voice? Why do I know what he said to me but not my own friends names? I tell him it is as he says. I'm sworn to maidenhood. This is not a temple of night, and offerings are best served during the day. He should leave. Please leave. Why can't I see him? Only shadows. "I think you will find that the gods don't much care about the time of day. Your hair is done so exquisitely, and oh my your eyes are nearly as stunning as the sea." I want him to leave. I want this to end. I don't want to be here. What brought me here? A faint breeze wafts over me, caressing my face, it smells salty and bitter. The wind picks up a bit and rustles my hair making a sound like soft waves against the shore. The sea, I remember the sea, it was where I grew up, my parents left me so many memories of the sea. Not this one though. I wish I could move but something holds me still. I wish I could speak, but my tongue won't move. My lips won't open. Suddenly he is there, a shadow turned into a man. I'm somehow against a wall and he's in front of me, his skin feels warm. Too warm, burning to the touch. I don't know what happens next, I closed my eyes, I closed my mind. Everything is dark, the simplicity of nothing, no sounds, no smells. How can I remember a place that is nothing?

She stands before me, my goddess, to whom I have devoted myself, promised my whole life to. She is beautiful, She radiates light, it must have been Her light which brought me back from the place of nothing. She tells me I can never come back to this temple. I can never... Where will I go? Without Her I have nothing. No guidance, no protection, how will I come back from darkness without my light? I remember Her warmth. This is the last time I felt it. I bask in this memory, the purity of Her love, for one last time. She tells me I will have to protect myself now, no man will ever look upon me as that man did. No man shall ever harm me the same way again. She gave me a gift, made me strong. I don't understand what has happened. She pities me, She always cared for me, yet I can never come back to Her?

Someone viciously shakes my head, I hear the last wisp of a scream leave the stone throat of the man before me. Now I remember. Memories are the only warmth I will ever feel now. The rest has been taken from me. That whom they call a man grips my hair, no longer beautiful and dark but now thick and dead, still gleaming and scaly. They used to talk with me, my lovely strands of living hair that She wove for me, they were good companions for many years. But without a body they grew hungry, and one by one, their tiny souls were released. Each of them took a bit of my own soul with it. I am in the nothing again. I have no control of myself, I can't feel anything, I couldn't speak if I knew what words to say. Sometimes I can watch what is happening around me, I still have the one last piece of my soul left, after all. Mostly I live in my memories. I was a priestess, I was loved, and I loved in return. I was. It is rare that a moment like this comes around, when I am present to ponder what I am now. The people called me a monster. My goddess abandoned me, but I lived a safe and happy life, I had my company and we needed nothing else. I don't think I ever was a monster. Now I'm used as a weapon, I'm no more monster than a sword might be. They call him a man but he is truly a monster, murderer, I have seen everything he's done since then. He is the one who uses my gift as a weapon, he is the one who caused the death of my companions, and all the death I've been forced to witness while my own soul slips away into memories. If I remained here, present, long enough to meet his gaze, I might choose differently. I could be the monster this time. She made me strong enough. Maybe if I could just

A loud banging shocks my ears and the strong scent of melted iron and fresh leather assaults my nostrils. The forge had never been my favorite place to visit, but it was far from the worst of the necessary tasks of caring for the temple.

#writing #medusa #short story #writing prompt #ancient greece #greek myths #legends

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babyloontrash · 6 years ago

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The Worst (C.H.)

Summary: Bathroom sex with Calum on your wedding. SMUT

Words: 4k

“And she asked me to take it easy on you, stating that you are not much of a dancer...” The elder woman shook her head in disbelief. Even in her heels, she was barely reaching the man’s shoulders, so she had to tilt her head to inspect him.

His lips were curled into a wide grin which seemed to falter only when he realized what she had just said.

“She really told you that?”

When she agreed, he had to scoff under his breath. “Unbelievable...” He searched for the lies-spreading creature in the crowd for a moment.

It wasn’t difficult to find her. Not only was she impossible to miss while looking so heavenly in that dress, but Calum could swear that there she appeared to radiate joy throughout the whole day.

No matter how many times he had stared at her, his throat always tightened and his heart performed an extra jump.

There was a part of him that still struggled to grasp everything that had happened today. This woman, the most incredible person he has ever met, had taken him for her husband. How wild was that?

The smile on his face grew when he saw her throw her head back with a laugh. Too bad the music was so loud. He couldn’t listen to that sweet sound she made, but that was okay. The promise was to stay together until death did them apart. By then he would hopefully get to hear her and those little snorts more times than he could even think of.

“Thank you for risking a dance with me then,” he said once his eyes finally peeled off the bride. “It means a lot, truly.” Calum smiled and leaned lightly into the soft touch when the woman held her hand up to stroke his cheek.

She joked about how at her age, she has to grasp every chance to dance with a young handsome man she gets.

“You are lucky I don’t have as much stamina as I once used to. Oh god, how I miss those days when I danced the nights away.” She remembered fondly with a smile while he escorted her back to the table.

The following plan was to find his wife. It was kinda ironic how little time they got to spend together on their wedding day.

She was faster, though. One step ahead, as always.

“Guess who?” A soft voice cooed next to his ear while his eyes were covered by a pair of hands.

He grinned and stayed silent for a second or two as if he really struggled to recognize her. Finally, he made a guess. It made her let out a huff, but her hands fell down from his face. Instead, they wrapped around his torso.

“Wrong,” she hummed against his skin as she pecked the side of his neck.

He had used her maiden name when taking a guess. To be honest, Calum wasn’t sure whether he did that on purpose, or it was just a matter of habit but hearing her correct him, reminding that her name is actually Hood made him grin like a fool.

“Oh, is it?” He played a buffoon and cocked his eyebrows up when he looked at her.

She nodded her head enthusiastically.

“It has been that way only for around six hours though, so I will let that error slide,” she offered kindly. Her mouth was inches away from his as she went in for a kiss but Calum stopped her.

“I can’t believe you told your aunt I can’t dance,” he complained, which only made her laugh.

“I mean... You should be thanking me. I was trying to save you from embarrassment, you know?” She defended herself when he pierced her with a look.

“And there I was, taking those damn dancing classes for you...”

“Which I knew nothing about!” She noted as they continued to stare at each other, their fingers laced together. “I still can’t believe you really did that. How cute... You really are whipped.”

“Shut up,” Calum shook his head and stopped the laugh which was starting to erupt from both of their throats by kissing her.

It was supposed to be only a short kiss that would stop her from laughing at him. But somehow it escalated into a nice make-out session.

They have done this so many times. Neither of them had the strength to pull away though. It reminded him of the first time. Both of them were terrified of what would happen next. The distress seemed so foolish now. Maybe that was because they had matured. Or maybe they realized that together they will always be alright.

The lips he was kissing were just as soft as usual. They moved against him in the same familiar way as they had done for years. And yet it still felt special somehow. Was the golden band on their fingers making such a difference?

He smiled against her mouth when he noticed that she was swinging back and forth to the rhythm of the music.

“You are a fucking dork,” he muttered before he kissed the tip of her nose.

“It’s too late for returns. I am officially yours now. You are stuck with me. Sorry.”

Calum watched her face for a second before he looked her up and down.

“I am sure I will manage. This is something I can work with.”

She jogged him. “Idiot.”

“That was a compliment!” Calum was quick to argue. Reaching his arms out, he tried to pull her close to him again while she just rolled her eyes.

“I mean it,” he added before pecking her lips. “Do you even have an idea how breath-taking you look?”

It didn’t take her longer than a second to reply. “I have heard a few comments,” she admitted with a tiny smile. “Little Zoe asked if I am an angel of some kind when she saw me.” That question had made her beam then when the small bub blurted it out and it warmed her heart even now.

Calum’s expression, on the other hand, didn’t seem too pleased.

“Don’t you see the angelic resemblance?” She put a pretended annoyance into her voice when asking that.

Quickly, her husband shook his head. “No, no. Of course that I do,” he assured her. “I’m just unsure how to feel about this whole thing.”

Her brows furrowed. What was that supposed to mean?

There was no need for any questions. Calum was more than happy to elaborate soon enough, behaving as dramatically as he could. He lowered his head to whisper near her ear, so nobody around could catch what was being said.

“With you being a celestial being now, and all that fancy stuff, how wrong is it that I want to fuck you?”

Of course. For someone who was believed to be so cool by many, he was pretty lame at times. To be honest, it didn’t even surprise her by now. Did it make her snort? Yes, but no matter how corny or not the guy in front of her was, she loved him.

“Very.” At last, she answered in amusement, gently ruffling the hair on the back of his head. “But...”

Calum slowly lifted his gaze to her face instead of the hem of her neckline.

“Since we are married, I guess it’s all right.”

As he watched her shrug carelessly, Calum had to grin for a while before he pressed his forehead down against her shoulder.

The pleasant smell of her perfume surrounded him, and he took a deep breath before muttering: “Don’t get me wrong. The reception is fun and all but I can’t wait to get you all alone.”

She gulped as these words reached her ears, which Calum took as an invitation to continue.

“Kiss you and touch you all over. Make you moan nice and loud about who you belong to.” His hand that was gripping her waist squeezed her harder as she squirmed. After he nipped on her skin, he was about to pull away, but something made him stop in his tracks.

“We don’t have to wait until the end of the reception.”

Calum wanted to ask her what she meant, but before he got to do that, she already started to walk away. His big brown eyes stayed glued to the leaving figure, and he caught himself stupefied by every single move her body made.

She checked over her shoulder if he was coming and when she found him standing still, she used her hand to gesture for him to follow her. A wide grin tugged on the corner of her mouth as he nodded, understanding the memo.

The timing couldn’t be worse though.

Just as Calum lost her from his sight completely, a pretty familiar tune came on. At any other

occasion, it would make him smile super bright. This was the song he and his mates used to sing on top of their lungs back in the day. It still had a special place in his heart. But right now he needed to join her in the bathroom. He brushed aside every brain cell that made him want to singalong and set out.

He almost got out of the bustling, and also a fairly tipsy crowd. The boys caught him sneaking out and ignored all of his objects and excuses that had to go to the bathroom. If they knew the reasoning behind it, they most probably wouldn’t delay him. It wasn’t like he would tell them he had to meet his spouse for a quick fuck though. By know, he knew them well enough to be sure that they would never let him live that down.

And so Calum sang and danced, while the lovely bride was waiting by the bathroom sink.

***

They could consider themselves lucky. When she got inside, the room with the stalls was entirely empty. Maybe she would be able to be as loud as Calum liked.

Only if that idiot hurried up. Seconds have passed and turned into minutes and she was still standing there alone. She couldn’t wrap her mind about what the hell was taking him so long. Or did he chicken out? Was having sex on his own wedding too much for mister I’ll-make-you-cum-with-my-fingers-while-your-parents-are-in-the-kitchen? What a great disappointment.

She was surely losing her patience.

Ten more seconds. If he wouldn’t show up, she would just forget it and go back to the party.

“One… Two…,” She began counting in a hushed voice while she stared into the mirror.

On seven, the door finally opened, and she turned around.

“Well, look who decided to show up.”

Calum just let out a huff in a reaction to that comment and his shook head while he stepped forward. His cheeks were rosy and being the pain in the ass she was, she considered asking him whether he already had a quickie somewhere else.

As her mouth opened to speak though, Calum wasted no time before sliding his tongue past her lips. His hips pressed against her, pushing her against the sink while his hands cradled her face, keeping it in place. For a moment, she only dug her fingers into his sides through the white dress shirt he was wearing before she brought her hand higher. She guided one of his hands away from her cheek so she would gain more freedom in her movements.

He sighed out faintly. She kissed him back with more fierce and force now and their fingers remained laced together for a while before he got himself out of her hold and settled his hand on her breast.

By then, they were both short on breath, so when he pulled away, she made no signs of protest. The only thing she did was throwing her head back slightly so he could kiss her neck once his lips started to trace over her jaw. She was fully leaning against the sink now, gripping on its edge while his tongue and lips moved over her decollete. Calum was being careful, not leaving any marks, but the way he kissed her still sent shivers down her spine.

“This has been driving me crazy the whole day,” he admitted in a low voice, tugging on the neckline so it revealed more. She took in a sharp breath when he gently sucked on those parts of cleavage that were formerly hidden. His thigh was pressing right against her core with the way he was standing now. Even with all those layers between them, she tried to rub herself against him but she could scarcely feel it. A sigh of annoyance left her mouth, making Calum laugh. The wave of warm air on her skin tickled her lightly.

With her hands pushing against his chest, she made him step back, closer to the stalls.

They didn’t make it in though. Calum needed help with getting out of the jacket as it got stuck on the sleeve buttons of his shirt. He sent his wife a soft glare when she laughed at him.

“Sorry,” she hummed and put it down on the heating behind her. While she was making sure that it wouldn’t fall, he had already started to tug on the skirt of her dress, slowly lifting it up. “Fuck.” His glance had clearly landed on the garter belt she was wearing. He instructed her to hold the fabric and once she did, he moved his hand touch her thigh himself. The graze was nice and warm, and they kept looking at each other while his hand travelled higher and higher. Once he reached her panties, he simply pushed them to the side, causing her eyes to widen. Calum touched her softly, rubbing over her wetness before he began to insert one finger. It wasn’t even halfway in when she stopped him.

“Someone can walk in,” she reminded. Continuing inside the stall definitely seemed like a better idea.

The door quickly locked behind them. She reached towards the bulge in his pants while she searched for his lips again. Her teeth grazed over his lips as she unbuttoned his trousers, and when she snuck her hand under his boxers, Calum didn’t even have a chance to make any noise since all the possible sounds were muffled by her tongue in his mouth. The longer she touched him though, the pre-cum already spread all over the tip, the more desperate for her he was. He nudged her a bit so her back pressed against the stall. She was now trapped between him and the wall and all the movements on his dick stopped as he started to pull the skirt up again. Once it was high enough, he hooked his fingers around the band of her panties and tugged them down. He helped her step out of them and pushed them into his back pocket.

She moaned when she could feel his hand on her cunt once more.

“Fuck me.”

“Fuck me what?” The rubbing on her clit stopped.

Her hips started to rock, so there would be at least some friction. “Fuck me, please,” she yielded and Calum smiled.

He stroked her clitoris a little longer before he gave her pussy a light slap. It made her twitch, which was a reaction he enjoyed. Sadly, he didn’t get to repeat this move since she tugged on his pants and boxers so they hung low on his hips, revealing his cock.

“There’s not much time.”

He knew she was right; it probably wouldn’t take too long before someone would start looking for them.

One of her legs was propped up on the toilet when she pulled him closer to her. Soon, the tip of his cock slid over her wet slits and then he finally thrust forward.

Within just a few moves, Calum found a pace enjoyable for both of them. A groan escaped his throat when she lowered his head by tugging on his tie.

She smiled a little. “You like this?”

There was only a tiny nod as a reply, but she still managed to catch it, even though the friction between her thighs was becoming more and more pleasurable.

She wrapped more of that tie around her hand so she had a proper hold of it while she held him close.

Since their faces were inches from each other, meeting for a kiss was the most natural thing to do and he got to experience her moaning into his mouth. The pace of those thrusts gradually sped up. When he slid one of his hands from her waist to her clit, she pulled away from him to whimper out.

She still had the tie tight in her grasp and when Calum spoke out, she could feel the warm breath on her lips.

“What a dirty bride you are,” he commented playfully. If there wasn’t his hand rubbing circles against the sensitive bud, she would have told him to shut up. The teasing tone was the last of her concerns since her legs had started to shake lightly.

“Are you going to cum for me?” He asked against her mouth.

“Mhhm.” That was the only thing she got out before another whimper slipped past her lips.

Her walls began to tighten around him and Calum himself had to groan out.

It was awful for both of them when he pulled out but making her turn around, and get both of her feet on the ground right now, was probably the safest way to go.

“Such a pretty ass. Who does it belong to?” His hand stroked her ass cheek before he dug his fingers into it harshly as she held her skirt up.

“You, baby,” she moaned out while his cock teased her cunt. Calum had pressed it against the entrance multiple times but didn’t push himself properly into her.

After his affirmation, he did. She didn’t see the rough thrust coming, and it made her whole body buckle. The sound of his name echoed through the bathroom.

They were lucky that it didn’t happen just a moment later. Someone walked in the bathroom and it was a miracle that Calum covered her mouth fast enough to muffle any sounds.

“Quiet,” he whispered near her ear. His cock stayed inside her when he stopped thrusting. Hopefully, the woman, whoever it was, would leave soon.

But him being deep inside her like this was driving them both crazy.

No one could blame him for not being strong enough. With his jaw clenched, he started thrusting again, steadily getting back to the pace where they left off. He kept his hand on her mouth, the other holding her hips still.

“Open your mouth.”

She did. Calum guided two fingers inside and gulped when her tongue swirled around them.

“Do not make a sound.”

After this warning, he pulled his hand away and brought it to her clit instead. She was doing well. For about a minute.

“Is everything okay? Do you need any help?” The woman asked after she heard a loud whimper from their stall.

“What did I tell you?” Calum said in a low voice. His hand disappeared from her clit for a second and his movements stopped. She did not understand why until the pair of lace panties she had been wearing earlier was swinging in front of her face. With just a simple nod of his head, he made her part her lips before he stuffed them inside, using them as a gag.

Even with them in her mouth, it was still difficult to hold herself back and be completely quiet when he continued fucking her.

Finally, they heard running water and eventually a slam of doors, but he didn’t tell her to take them out. Not yet.

She had reached her orgasm within the next minute or two, and it was only after he had made her legs shake that he took the panties out.

“Too bad, you couldn’t see yourself. You looked fucking hot,” Calum commented. “Do you think she knows it was us?”

“Don’t know. But she wouldn’t be thinking anything if you had stopped.”

“You were close! And we have little time.” He defended himself.

“How kind of you.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice but he pretended not to notice.

She looked down at his cock. He was still hard. Clearly, he really cared more about her hitting her high than himself. Calum sighed heavily when she wrapped her hand around his shaft and started to pump him.

“Do you think there’s a time for me to blow you?”

Before he answered, she was already getting down.

“Fuck.”

She ran her tongue along the length before she closed her lips around him. He watched her carefully as she took more of him into her sweet mouth and growled when she sucked as she moved back.

When he brushed her hair away from her face, he tried to be careful so he wouldn’t mess the hairdo she had too much. As a thank you, she flashed him a bright smile when she didn’t have him in her mouth. Calum returned the smile to her, but soon his jaw dropped when she used her thumb to brush over the tip.

Her lips and tongue caressed his balls when they heard the door open again. It was more than just a one woman now.

Two, at least. That’s how many voices they recognised, anyway. They seemed to stay by the mirror though, probably only freshening themselves up a bit.

Slowly, she continued to blow him, mostly just licking the shaft and the head with her tongue.

“What’s that thing over there?” One of the women suddenly asked, and they noticed the steps come closer to them.

The eyes above her widened. After teasing the tip with her tongue she took him into her mouth again, deeper than she had done before.

“It’s a jacket.”

She looked up at him to see Calum’s reaction. His lips were pressed firmly together as he stared down at her. The look he was sending her was rather clear. ‘Don’t you dare to do anything.’

“A male one.”

She sucked more as she pulled away from him. Only to force her mouth on his cock again right after.

Calum let out a grunt. Luckily enough, one of the women just started coughing.

“What is that doing here?”

Looking up at him, she continued sucking him. When their gazes met, he shook his head in disbelief and better turned his face towards the ceiling, closing his eyes. If her mouth wasn’t full, she would have chuckled. But since she couldn’t do that, she settled on making things more difficult for him. At one point, he even tried to push her away. Her nails dug into his thigh though, and he immediately changed his mind.

The women outside continued chatting about lots of things. About the jacket, the weather, the food. Stuff they could be discussing anywhere and yet they stayed here.

Calum let out a low hum, biting into his fist before he came and salty taste spread on her tongue.

They couldn’t leave right now. None of them was a damn fortune teller, but they were sure they would receive some weird looks. She used the time to clean him up and then took his hand as he helped her get back onto her feet.

He shook his head disbelievingly once they stood in front of each other face to face. There were marks on his fist from his teeth; she kissed them better.

A minute or so later, the women finally left.

“You are...”

“Amazing. Incredible. The best thing that has ever happened to you,” she suggested, grinning.

Chuckling, Calum had no choice than to nod. “Yes. But the word I was originally going for was the worst,” he admitted with a soft chuckle and leaned down to kiss her.

During that, he unlocked the door, and he pulled away just before walking out. Her panties still in his hand.

“By the way, I am keeping these.”

#5sos smut #calum hood #calum hood smut #5sos fanfic #5sos #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #5sos fic #calum hood fanfic #calum hood one shot #calum hood fic #calum hood imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer smut

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ohmyuqi · 5 years ago

Text

𝙇𝙚𝙩’𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚?” (Mark lee x reader)

𝙇𝙚𝙩’𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚?(Mark Lee x Reader)

Rating: PG

Warnings: highschool! au ; movie theater worker! mark au

Loosely based of real life events. (Not including mark lee of course)

——————————-

It was a Sunday evening, you were being lazy at home like you always did.

You were a homebody. Not really interested in partying or going out. Why’d would you go out when you could be binging your favorite movies on Disney Plus? As you were doing right now.

You’re phone buzzed with a text. It was your older sister, reminding you you had agreed to go watch a movie with her best friends.

“Fuck,” you were half way through Bambi and did not feel like going out with a bunch of strangers your sister was close to.

You brushed it off and unpaused the movie.

“Bzz,” you phone went off again.

2 unread messages

Bijou (big sis): Remeber our plans?

Bijou (big sis): meet me @ the movie theater in 10

‘Ten minutes??’ You looked at the time on your phone. Wasn’t it 4:00 like a minutes ago?

Ten minutes, ten minutes! How were you supposed to get ready in ten minutes?

You were surely going to look terrible, you thought. Not to mention you were going to see people you didn’t know. Important ones, your sisters best friends.

Instead of freaking out you decided it was enough time wasted and you had to get ready.

You left your hair as it was and slipped in some skinny jeans and an Iron Maiden band tee. You put on some concealer under your eyes and did your eyeliner. You decided you looked fine and it was time to go.

You drove to the movie theater and looked inside. There was your sister and her two best friends. Haylee and Cole. You saw them once in drivers Ed but never paid them any attention.

You really didn’t want to go in there alone so you decided to text your sister.

Y/n: Bijouuuuu

Y/n: Meet me outside please 🥺

You leaned on the wall of the theater, waiting. You hear her footsteps, and each foot step brought a new wave of anxiety.

“Hey baby sis, come in!” You sister looked great. She had cute mini skirt on and bomb ass makeup, you felt a little outshined by her. She always looked great.

“I’m not a baby.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

Your sister pinched your cheeks. “You clearly are if you want me to walk you inside!” She teased, and it made you feel a little better.

“Does my eyeliner look okay?” Bijou took your hands in her and looked you in your big, starry eyes.

“You look great, n/n, don’t worry. They’ll love you.” She said it with the most sincerity in the world. And that in itself meant the world to you.

“Now come on, let’s go make new friends!”

You were at the counter and remembered.. Mark.

Fuck, it’s Mark.

Mark was a cute guy who worked at the movie theater. You had seen him a couple times when going but had never talked to him.

He went to school with your older sis and was friends with her.

The first time you saw him you immediately commented on how cute he was.

“Did you see the guy at the cashier? He was so cute!”

“I know! He goes to my school, his name is Mark and he’s a junior. He’s a good friend of mine, you know,” Bijou smirked

Now you both meet again, and there he was. In all his cute cashier glory.

“Two tickets to jumanji please,” your sister handed him a couple dollars.

“Hey, Jou. Uh, I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yep, she’s my baby sis!” She smiled warmly at Mark.

You awkwardly glance and try not to meet eyes with him, which inevitably fails.

He hands you both your tickets. “Enjoy the show.”

You got and meet Haylee and Cole. The more you talk to them, the more you realize it was nothing to worry about. They were super friendly and were very easy to get along with. You knew they would soon become good friends of yours.

Cole bent over and gave Haylee a quick peck, “I’m going to get snacks, you guys want anything?” You all kindly rejected the offer and went to the go see the movie.

It came time that the movie ended and you all had a good time. The movie was great and you would make benign comments here and there making your new friends laugh.

“Ugh, I’m so hungry!” You complained, putting your head on your new friends shoulder. “Agreed,” Haylee chimed while walking with you to a bench.

You walked to the food court area and met eye to eye with Mark. Your sister Bijou walking closely behind you.

“Hey, Bijou! And ugh, hey Y/n,” Mark greeted you and your sister.

“Hey Mark, this is Y/n, as you now know, my baby sis,”

Mark looked you up and down and glanced at you Dark clothes and reserved demeanor.

Mark scrunched his nose, “EW! She’s emo!” Mark goes on and makes a big scene, pretending to be disgusted by your “emo” look.

Bijou laughed along with him and went along with the act. “Yeah, she’s totally emo. She listens to mcr or some shit.

Another worker friend of Bijou chimes in, “Holy shit, she looks like an e girl!”

“Holy shit, you’re right.” Cole joins the conversation and adds to the huge amount of clowning you were getting.

“.. it’s just the shirt,” you say awkwardly while glancing at the popcorn kernel by your foot.

Well more like intensely staring through the kernel at this point.

They all laugh at your response, “she’s so cute,” Haylee says.

“Can I have my drink now?” You say, slightly irratated by the fact that you were being clowned AND were slightly hangry.

He hands you the drink, your hands brushing in the process. You look at Mark and blush a little. As he looks away, you could tell if he was embarrassed or scared. Probably the latter but the looks of it.

You’re sister and you bid farewell to your now friends.

On the ride home you look all over Instagram for his account. You had attempted to do it before but had no idea what his last name was or anything.

You knew he went to school with your sister and was a junior. And his name was Mark.

Even with this information you couldn’t find his account anywhere, you were a little discouraged.

As you kept searching you got a notification.

mark.lee01 has started following you. 1m

You heart starts to race. Mark is following me? Did he look for me too? What?

“Mark followed me?” You told bijou. She seemed as confused as you.

“Really, Mark? That’s so not fair!”

“You have a gf, shut up Jou.”

You got another notification.

(Y/n instagram): you got a message from mark.lee01

‘He dmed me too? What the fuck? Is this some kind is cruel joke?’

“HE JUST DMED ME AHSJAJSHAK,” you informed your sister while also making incomprehensible noises. You just liked him that much.

“I wonder what he said...,”

“Well, there’s ink one way to find out.”

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entwinedmoon · 5 years ago

Text

John Torrington: Lord Have Mercy on the Frozen Man

(Previous posts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)

What do James Taylor and heavy metal band Iron Maiden have in common? They both saw a picture of a dead guy and thought, “This would make a great song.”

When John Torrington got his close-up in newspapers and magazines across the globe, his well-preserved, tragic visage inspired a renewed interest in the Franklin Expedition in various forms of media. He started cropping up in literary works, and some artists tried to capture how he may have looked in life. Surprisingly, he even had an impact on music.

I’ll admit that impact has been rather small. Over the years, there have been plenty of songs inspired by the Franklin Expedition—from traditional tunes like “Lady Franklin’s Lament” to Stan Roger’s rousing “Northwest Passage”—but the Franklin ice mummies don’t get as much attention in this particular artistic medium. There are about three songs I know of that are about (or assumed to be about) the mummies, and it’s John Torrington who gets all the attention once again, what little attention there is.

Of course, there aren’t a lot of songs out there about mummies in general, so it’s not so surprising that music isn’t where Torrington made a big splash. While music can be about anything and everything, one of the most popular topics for songs is romance, and people just don’t think mummies are particularly romantic, (except for Hozier. Please, please, please, someone get Hozier to write a song about the Franklin ice mummies).

The first song I have for you, and the most famous of the three, is by another well-known JT—James Taylor. Yes, the James Taylor. The man who’s seen fire and seen rain also saw pictures of John Torrington and became inspired to write a song, “The Frozen Man,” which appeared on his 1991 album New Moon Shine. Taylor explained once at a concert that he’d seen pictures of a man’s frozen body, preserved in the Arctic for over a hundred years, in National Geographic. He didn’t say the name John Torrington, but he didn’t really need to; it’s obvious who he meant.

However, there is a slight problem with his explanation. Try as I might, I have never been able to track down an issue of National Geographic with an article featuring pictures of Torrington, Hartnell, or Braine. And yet there have been several people—not just James Taylor—who’ve said they saw pictures of the mummies in National Geographic. I even purchased a digital subscription to go through the archives, and while I did find a small blurb about the lead poisoning findings, I never found any full articles and definitely not any pictures. Maybe I just wasn’t looking at the right issue, but I’ve come to the tentative conclusion that this is an example of the Mandela Effect, because there have been multiple people claiming to have seen pictures of Torrington in National Geographic but I can’t find the issue everyone seems to be referring to. If anyone out there has the issue people are talking about, please let me know.

But back to the song now. You can peruse the lyrics of “The Frozen Man” here, or you can listen to it below:

https://youtu.be/0aoxmfge4AE

youtube

The titular Frozen Man in this song is not Torrington himself but a Torrington-like fictional sailor who became frozen, and because it’s fiction, he’s brought back to life a hundred years after his death. Owen Beattie would sometimes have people ask him if there was a way that Torrington could have been revived. Torrington looks so close to life as it is, how hard could it be? But realistically there’s been too much internal decay of the cells for Torrington to ever be brought back to life, no matter how advanced our technology might become. But who doesn’t love the fantasy of bringing back someone from the past? It’s a popular trope—Captain America, Futurama, and even the ridiculous and regrettable Encino Man all use the same idea. There’s a great review of the song through a science fiction lens on Tor.com that explores this in detail. I myself have had quite a few ideas for stories that involve a reanimated Torrington—as a child, these were called nightmares, but as an adult I like to call them novels.

What I like about this song is how it explores the emotional toll that reviving Torrington—or other Frozen Men—would have on the poor man out of time. Everything he’s known—his family and friends—are all gone. He remembers dying—haunting memories he’ll always carry with him. Now he’s back, but at what cost? Just because you could bring someone back doesn’t mean you should. If we did have the technology to bring back Torrington, would it be right to do so? Or would it be a mercy to leave him as he is? In “The Frozen Man,” we see that it’s kinder to leave the dead be.

The next song on my list is of a very different style, and while it’s assumed to be about Torrington, I haven’t been able to definitively verify that. The song in question is “Stranger in a Strange Land” by Iron Maiden, from their album Somewhere in Time. It came out in 1986, the same year Hartnell and Braine were exhumed and autopsied, but since songs don’t usually get written, recorded, and released in a couple of months, this song is probably about Torrington, if it’s about any of the Beechey Boys. I say if because while it’s said by some that “Stranger in a Strange Land” was inspired by Torrington, the exact origin of the song is pretty vague. Adrian Smith, guitarist and singer for Iron Maiden, said that he had written the song after speaking with someone who had found a frozen body in the Arctic. But who did he talk to? Unfortunately, I can’t find much concrete information about the song’s inspiration. I suppose I could try asking Adrian Smith, but I’m not sure how to reach him, or if he’d respond to the weird woman asking about that one song about the dead guy from thirty-three years ago.

You can take a listen below, or read the lyrics here.

https://youtu.be/q7IdqkaGyU8

youtube

Like “The Frozen Man,” this song deals with a Torrington-like fictional explorer who died in a “land of ice and snow,” and his body became preserved in the ice. Unlike “The Frozen Man,” however, this Stranger doesn’t become revived. Instead, his spirit is trapped in this icy land where his body has been frozen for a hundred years. This is more fantasy than sci-fi, verging into horror—he’s haunting the land where he died, trapped and yearning to be freed. The pictures of Torrington are remarkable but incredibly creepy, and he does look like a supernatural being that could be haunting the Arctic (after all, I had no problem thinking he haunted my closet when I was growing up). Torrington looks frozen in time (perfect name for a book about him), so it’s not such a stretch of the imagination to think he’s been frozen in more ways than one, body and soul. In this song, his body is found, but it’s not clear if that frees him from his icy prison or not. The song ends repeating the chorus, focusing on the loneliness of the desolate land and dying so far from home.

The third and final song I have for you today is not as well-known as the previous two. And there’s no question about who the subject is—the song is called “John Torrington.” This song is by Canadian musician Matthew Mutch, from his album Steeltown Pilgrim. I stumbled across this song earlier this year when looking for John Torrington videos on YouTube. Mutch is not a big name like Taylor, and it’s hard to find much information about him, but he wrote a brief explanation for his purpose behind his song on his website, (where you can also find the lyrics):

“My interest in the history of arctic exploration and the search for the northwest passage brought me to write this—my homage to not only John Franklin and his crew, but to all the many brave 19th century travelers and adventurers who risked their lives to unlock the mysteries of the frozen north.”

The song starts off with a spoken-word introduction about the Franklin Expedition to explain to anyone unfamiliar with the topic the background behind the song. You can listen to the song here:

https://youtu.be/Gcc41yHDcYA

youtube

This song features a spectral Torrington haunting Sir John Franklin. It’s not a scary type of haunting per se, but he appears as an ominous warning to Franklin about the sad fate awaiting him and the rest of the crew. Torrington as a harbinger of doom is a trope that I’ve seen a lot in Franklin-related literature, something I will go into more in depth in another post. The song, while named after Torrington, is less about him and more about the death of the entire expedition, with him serving as a canary in a coalmine.

These three songs are all different, but they all focus on Torrington (or a Torrington stand-in) in death and in some form of afterlife, whether it’s a spirit haunting the land or his shipmates or if it’s a second chance on life through some technological marvel. Because there’s not much known about his life, most people focus on his death, as that and his mummified image are what have made him notable in the saga of the Franklin Expedition. Perhaps because we know so much more about his death, it can be hard to imagine him in life.

But there are some who have tried.

Next: Torrington as depicted in art—from attempts at reconstructing what he looked like, to Torrington in a graphic novel and more.

<<Back | Next >>

Torrington Series Masterlist

#john torrington #franklin expedition

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vaguelybohemian · 5 years ago

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Baldwin Montclair/OC

Chapter Three - De rerum natura

Baldwin passed my notebook to me to review. I looked over my glasses to glance at how much was on the page. I had to assume the translations of the manuscript were accurate. At the bottom of the page he had left me several doodles, one of which was me holding a glass in one hand and what looked like a pair of sunglasses in the other.

I looked up at him, smiling without humour. “Focus please.” I turned back to my work, gently turning over the next page to reveal another set of beautifully preserved pages.

“Oh, I am focused,” he said huskily. “Wish I could say the same for you.”

My heart thudded once, very hard, at the statement. He wasn’t wrong, but I did not want to give him an ounce of satisfaction.

I had spent ample amounts of the night sneaking glances at where his knee barely touched mine, and how the muscles beneath his trousers twitched each time my palazzo pants brushed up against him. I had caught him glancing up at me also, only once but I could feel his cold gaze once in a while, and he would rub his bottom lip against his teeth as he held my gaze briefly. I’d quickly draw my gaze back to the manuscript.

We were in a moment of peeking at one another when a knock came at the door.

I leaned back in my seat, pulling open the door. My colleague, Dr. Henry Ashton, reared his head into the room. His mop of chestnut hair made him look exceptionally boyish, as did his round glasses and casual attire. He insisted in teaching classes in Iron Maiden shirts and Birkenstocks, which set him apart in the department already. It made him fit better with many of the sociology profs, not with the old-school philosophers. He was the youngest, but one of the sharpest professors I had experienced in a long time.

His smile faded a tad when he spied Baldwin.

“Oh, Nora, I didn’t realize you had a research aid,” Henry said, rolling the sleeve of his cardigan up absently.

“He’s no one, just a friend helping me with translation work,” I said, waving in his direction. I practically felt Baldwin bristle at the statement.

“Could I steal Dr. Germaine? Two secs,” Henry pulled at my blouse gently as I rose. I felt Baldwin’s glare on my back as I shut the door on him.

Henry turned on me quickly, whispering madly. “Are you crazy?!”

“Having a translator? Henry it’s just some etymological w-“

“That’s. Not. The point. He is bad news, Nora. Like bad news bears,” Henry said, tapping my hand with each word to add emphasis. I pulled my hand away, feeling a gentle zap with each point of contact.

“He’s… Odd. And new. But he has already helped me get back on track with this research. I really appreciate it,” I said, surprising myself at coming to this man’s defense.

Henry bit into his thumbnail. “How often have you seen him around? Like has he shown up at your office, or your grocery store? Seen you at the gym?”

I sighed. “I forgot to tell you; my leg has been acting up again. My physio said no gym for a while,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets. “Anyway, no, not really. He spoke to me about my studies last time I was in to work with the primaries, and that’s how it came up that he was a translator.”

I felt bad for lying, but really, Henry was over reacting.

Henry glared at me, knowing I was not being truthful with him. I didn’t think it good to be an effective liar, but life had made me into someone regrettably well-versed in twisting the truth. Henry managed to call me out, even in a flustered state.

“You should know you can’t lie to me. Why would you try? He’s basically stalking you, isn’t he?”, Henry snapped at me, and I felt my hair float with static. “You fucked your leg again, and now this… Man is coming around like you’re a wounded deer. Listen to my reasoning!”

I crossed my arms, growing agitated from his anger. “Henry, I am fine. I can deal with one guy.”

Baldwin chose that moment to open the sliding door. “I think you need to go,” he said coldly to Henry.

Henry sputtered but couldn’t get out a word as he was dwarfed by Baldwin’s height. He gazed up him defiantly, but with much less of the gusto he had possessed prior to the third party making himself known.

“Ashton, I really just need to get my work done. I’ll be here for months without aid. Just let it be, please.”

He looked at me briefly, then adjusted his shoulder bag roughly. “Fine. Just remember I warned you.”

“Talk to you later?”

“Not likely. Bye, Nora,” he said gruffly as he walked into the shelves beyond the study rooms.

I noticed a group of younger students poking their heads around the corner at the scene, one of them quickly ducking away when I looked their way. Drama on floor three was not unheard of when students had become stressed enough, but some of them would surely recognise us as staff. Great.

I turned on my heel and sat back down at my chair with a huff, trying to appear engrossed in my work yet again.

Baldwin remained at the door. “…Are you alright?

“No, I’m bloody well not. What of it?”, I said quietly, bouncing my knee.

“Well, that was pretty heated. Also, you’re in my seat.” He put a hand where his jacket was across the back of the chair. The seat wasn’t warm considering he had been sitting there only moments before, which was certainly odd. I shrugged and moved the other chair to where he had been sitting.

He quirked an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I think it’s time for supper. Maybe a tall glass of something strong,” he chuckled, taking my sweater from the back of the other chair.

“I really can’t. I still have-“

“A deadline, yes, but you should never work this stressed. We can come right back, monk’s honour,” Baldwin was practically trying to lift me by my armpits as I swatted him away, taking my sweater from him and shrugging reluctantly.

“I feel like you’re constantly getting me to eat,” I say, shutting off the light to the study room as we leave.

He chuckles as he locks the door and hands me the tiny key. “Someone has to. You would certainly waste away attended to your tomes like you do.”

“A true aesthetic, am I,” I snorted bitterly. Considering I lived off of scones and caffeine and had admittedly been eying the (annoying) redhead that had become my companion I was certainly anything but.

As if reading my mind, said redhead grinned wickedly. “You truly are Anthony of the Desert.”

“Oh, Jesus H Christ, I hate that,” I chuckled a little too girlishly. I frowned at the thought of Baldwin growing on me in just a few hours of working together.

Turns out getting me to drink something strong hadn’t taken much work. Baldwin had been rather surprised at my choice of the café around the corner from the university, one that served a broad selection of both vegan dishes and Argentinian wines. Such was the way when providing for a campus of young academics.

We walked into the café just after the evening rush had left, a barista welcoming us as she bussed tables.

“Sit wherever you like, love,” the barista called, totting an oval full of dishes away to the kitchen.

“After you,” Baldwin said, putting out an arm toward the front where overstuffed leather chairs sat by the large windows. It was still warm enough outside that the wrap around porch was still filled with patrons, and so inside was the best for a semi-private dining experience. I had often eaten there out of convenience during times that the only places to put a drink or plate was a stand-alone bar meant for leaning rather than sitting.

I crossed my legs as I sat, a motion I did not miss his eyes following the movement as he sat down gracefully across the squat table from me.

“This is certainly not what I expected from what you told me. You are certain they sell decent vintages here, not just Strawberry Hill and whatnot?”

“Hey, you shouldn’t mock Boons, it has a place in the hearts of many broke students,” I said, flipping idly through the menu as if I did not know what I would be getting. “Should we just get a charcutier to start? They have two different ones to choose.”

He hummed a yes to that, eyes quickly scanning the menu. “They don’t have anything older than 2008,” he said, resting his head against his fist like a frustrated toddler.

I tilted my head. “Well golly, milord, what shall we do?”

He frowned at that, to which I allowed myself a grin.

I looked out the window at just the right moment to see Henry walking quickly past on the opposite side of the street. My stomach turned and I slouched in the seat.

“He probably hates me,” I thought, regretted the odd interaction with my friend. He was usually so level-headed and understanding, certainly already becoming a father figure despite his recent introduction to nurturing undergraduates. I caught Baldwin’s gaze just as the server came to our table, cutting off what interaction may have occurred in that moment.

“What can I get y’all,” the server asked, pen and paper in hand.

#all souls trilogy #a discovery of witches #baldwin de clermont #Baldwin montclair #Diana bishop #original female character #my writing #romance #Matthew clairmont #vampire #witch #slow burn #vaguelybohemian #fan fiction #archive of our own

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avengerscompound · 6 years ago

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Those Little Words - Two

Those Little Word: A Iron Man Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 3482

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Age difference (not used as a kink), Dirty talk, Smut (M|F, oral sex, vaginal sex, public sex), unsupportive parents.

Synopsis: Everyone knows that Tony Stark is the textbook definition of a narcissist. So what happens when he meets someone just like him.

Part Two

Tony Stark is the textbook definition of a narcissist. Everyone knows that. He even knows that. He prides himself on it.

Only now you’ve gotten to know him better you’re not so sure. He certainly does think very highly of himself. But to be fair he’s very, very smart. You’re very, very smart too. Did it make you a narcissist too because you weren’t willing to hide it either?

What you had noticed about him was he may think highly of himself but he also cared about other people too. He just seemed maladapted at showing it. When he tried and they misinterpreted what was happening, he’d actually get quite sulky.

The other thing you noticed was that for someone who allegedly loved themselves that much, he didn’t take very good care of himself. He often stayed in the lab quite late into the night. You know that because it was a habit you had picked up too. He also skipped meals regularly. Choosing instead to just snack on dried fruits and nuts.

The three out of the five days you worked in the tower Bruce would always go grab lunch with you at the cafe downstairs. Each day you’d walk out and you’d see Tony working in his lab. When you’d get back he’d still be there and it wouldn’t look like he’d even moved.

One day on the way out you tap on the glass and he looks up at you puzzled. You poke your head in the door. “Have you eaten?”

“Who has time for that?” He asks, going back to whatever it is he’s working on.

“Come on, old man. It’s my shout.” You say, going in and dragging him to his feet.

“No one’s ever offered to buy me lunch before.” He replies, dragging his feet after you.

“I wouldn’t fight her, Tony. She always gets her way.” Bruce says, from the doorway.

Tony continues to resist you pulling him. “But I always get my way.” He complains. You keep pulling and all of a sudden he stops resisting and starts walking along with you. You almost fall on your ass. “Right. Food. Three meals a day. Of course. Good idea. I’ll take you both out for lunch.”

The next thing you know you’re sitting in the back of a stretch limo looking at least half as lost as Bruce.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“The Polo Bar,” Tony says, simply.

“How did you get a table last minute?” You press.

Tony smiles at you. “I’m Tony Stark.”

You sigh and run your hands down your face. “You know I’m rescinding my offer to shout you, right?”

Tony smirks like he just won some kind of competition between the two of you. “Naturally.”

From then on that was your routine. Go to have lunch with Bruce. Tap on the glass wall of Tony’s lab. Ask him if he’d eaten. The three of you would go to lunch. You started finding him sitting up expectantly waiting for the two of you. He even stopped trying to one-up you and would just join you at a food cart for hot dogs, or some shitty hole in the wall fast food place for Shawarma.

You started worrying about him when you weren’t there though. On those two days a week where you had to be at Columbia teaching you couldn’t help but picture him hunched over the workbench pushing through until the afternoon where he had meetings or press conferences or therapy.

You started texting him.

He did have the annoying habit of walking in on you when you were in the lab alone, earbuds in. That would be fine except that often meant you danced while you worked.

You were completely engrossed in your work, swaying your hips. “Now the time is here, For iron man to spread fear, Vengeance from the grave, Kills the people he once saved.” You sing as you put vials of blood back in the refrigerated storage.

You turn around to see Tony standing in the doorway grinning at you and eating dried blueberries.

“Holy shit. You scared me.” You say, pulling your earbuds out. You don’t think you’re blushing, but being caught singing Iron Man by Iron Man might have been the single most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you.

“Nice song choice.” He says, raising his eyebrows at you. “I like Black Sabbath too. You’re a bit young for them aren’t you?”

“Music has an age restriction? I had no idea.” You snark.

He strolls over to you looking really pleased with himself. “You sound a little defensive. Did the song remind you of me?”

“Because you’re a villain waiting to happen? You got me there, old man.” You reply.

He laughs and takes your phone out of your pocket, you try to snatch it out of his hand and he holds it away from you as he looks through your playlist. “AC/DC, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden. You’ve got good taste, new meat.”

You leave him with your phone and go back to your computer. “That’s why I listen to it. To impress geriatrics.”

He laughs and strolls over to you throwing some more blueberries into his mouth and sitting on the stool next to you. He puts your phone back in your pocket and looks over your shoulder.

“Check this out.” You say, expanding the field on your screen. “So you know in everyone’s DNA there’s basically the code to be just about anything? We can grow a human ear on a mouse by just shifting some of the code.”

Tony gives you a 'move along' gesture with his hand. “You’re talking to a genius remember. Move faster.”

“You flick some files up with long strings of codes on it. So this is Steve, Bucky, Bruce, Wanda and a woman known as Jessica who is also enhanced.” You say, indicating some of the files. “And here is you, me and just a few other random non enhanced people who gave blood. Do you see?”

His eyes scan over the files and they suddenly go wide. He zooms in on each of the files for the enhanced people and looks over them one at a time. “You found it.”

You nod. “Yep. Every one of them. It’s like the trauma or treatment or whatever it was that they had done to them flicked that gene over to active. It’s not quite that simple obviously. They all have different genes also turned on and others turned off that don’t all match, but that one… that one seems to be the key. I would say; I can’t believe nobody has seen it before, but it’s not like anyone had the blood work to look.” You bring up another couple of files. “The gene is damaged but not unfixable.”

Tony looks at the new file and pulls his glasses off rubbing the bridge of his nose. When he finishes he looks back at you. It looks like he’s lit up from the inside. “We could fix Bruce?

You rub your arm. “I mean… it’s going to take a lot more research. We have no way of testing it out. It’s not like these enhancements are showing up in lab rats and all the other people who have them want to keep them. If we tried it, it would be straight onto Bruce and I get the feeling the other guy might fight back. His cells multiply so fast when he transforms. I have no idea what kind of treatment we could make that would keep up with that.” You explain. “But hypothetically, yes. We could fix Bruce.”

He looks at the computer and then closes it all down. “We’re having drinks. Upstairs. FRIDAY, tell the others.”

“Right away, Mr. Stark.” The voice of the buildings AI replies, filling the room.

“No, Tony. I don’t even know those guys.” You say, panicking a little.

He takes you by the elbow. “Little miss snark’s actually scared of a few superheroes? I never thought I’d see the day. This is happening.”

He leads you to the elevator and you take it to the top floor. You’re the first people there and he goes to the bar and pours you a Scotch without even checking if that’s what you want.

You take it and down it in one go. He laughs and pours you another. “That’s a sipping Scotch, dear. Take it easy.”

“Yes, Dad.” You retort. You do take his advice though because that first glass had felt like it had burned your esophagus right out.

The doors open and Steve Rogers comes in followed by Bucky Barnes. You take another drink so you don’t just stare at them open-mouthed.

“Evening, Tony. What’s the special occasion?” Steve asks.

Tony pours both men a drink. You wonder given their metabolism if drinking will have any effect on them. Regardless, they both take the glass and take a sip. “I thought it was time everyone met the new meat. She’s been here four months now after all.”

You introduce yourself to both of them. Shaking their hands firmly.

“We’ve heard all about you from Bruce. He speaks really highly of you.” Steve says, warmly.

“He does?” You look at Tony like he might confirm it. He drops you a wink and you turn back to Steve.

“All the time. So does Tony.” Steve assures you. “I don’t pretend to know what they’re talking about, but whatever it is, you’ve impressed them.”

“Oh it’s simple really, we’re just looking at…” You begin, but the doors open again and James Rhodes enters.

��War Machine is in the house!” He announces loudly.

After Rhodey there is a steady stream of people who come through the door. You’re introduced to all of them in turn. It’s not long until you relax amongst this group of people who you really feel you have no place among. You tend to drift between Bruce and Tony a lot. You do know them best after all. The others however all take the time to get to know you. Even if they do have no idea what you’re talking about some of the time.

You don’t get too drunk. Others do though. You play a game of pool against Clint Barton and find out pretty quickly why that was a stupid idea. Slowly, just as they arrived they drift off again. It’s a work night and no one is really willing to stay up too late. By eleven it’s just you and Tony eating cold pizza on the couch and looking out over the twinkling lights of the city.

“See. That wasn’t so bad was it?” Tony says, taking a bite of the crust of his pizza.

“Did you just start eating that slice crust first?” You ask, horrified.

“The crust is the best bit.” He says, defensively.

You shove him. “You maniac. Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to eat properly?”

He grabs your wrist and twists your arm behind your back and once again you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close your bodies both are. “Maybe you haven’t heard my motto. It’s ‘I do what I want’.” He takes another bite from the crust of his pizza. You gasp and bat the slice out of his hand. It goes sailing over the back of the couch and both of you watch as it arcs through the air and lands cheese side down onto the carpet.

You both look from it to each other and back again before breaking down into laughter. “What is wrong with you?” Tony asks, pulling you a little closer.

“What’s wrong with you? Crust first.” You scoff, climbing into his lap.

His hands go into your hair and he pulls you into a kiss. His lips are salty and slightly greasy from the pizza and you can still taste Scotch on him. You wrap your arms around his neck and roll your hips against him. You start feeling the press of his cock as it stiffens against you.

You break the kiss and look down at him. “I thought we were never happening again?”

He starts kissing your neck and unbuttons your shirt. “I thought I was outside the acceptable dating age range.”

“We haven’t been on a date.” You reply.

He makes his way to the last button and pushes your shirt down your shoulders. His vision just fixed on your breasts. “Maybe we should.”

You tilt his chin up to you. “What?”

“Maybe we should. Go on a date. Or more than one. We should date. Could be fun.” He says, looking you in the eye.

You take his glasses off and put them on the couch beside you before running your fingers down his jaw. “Do I get to take you home to meet my father?”

He flinches a little and nods his head. “We’ll talk about the good old days. When music was better and the youth had more respect.”

“You actually want to do this? Like actually date and not just randomly hook up? Because I can do the second one just fine.” You say.

He scratches his head and looks like he is in physical pain. “Yep. Can’t have your honor being tarnished by the likes of me. We’ll date.”

You shake your head in disbelief and look down at him. “Well okay then, but this first right?”

“Oh most definitely.” He pulls you back into a kiss. It’s wet and hungry. You bite at each other's lips. He cups your breast and squeezes it making you moan. He pulls back and looks up at you. “Bedroom?”

You nod and get to your feet pulling him after you. He takes you to the elevator and once the doors close he’s on you again. Pushing you against a wall and kissing you hard. You drag your fingers down his back and bunch his shirt up in your fists.

The elevator ride is short though, and you barely have a moment to even consider how hot it would be to fuck him in there when the doors slide open.

The elevator opens right into Tony’s apartment’s living room. He must have the whole floor. You step into the room. It is large and houses an eclectic mix of sleek furniture, distressed timber, and pieces that look like they were picked out by a five-year-old.

There is a sleek black couch and a baby grand piano. A hardwood bar and a state of the art sound system. Abstract paintings that you’re sure must have cost him millions hang next to posters of Iron Man that you’re sure you can buy from Walmart for three dollars.

He spins you to face him and starts walking you back towards the wall. You drop your shirt to the floor and pull his up over his head. For someone pushing fifty, he’s still in remarkably good shape. Honestly, he’s still in good shape compared to a lot of men your age. His chest hair is salt and pepper and he has significant scarring on his sternum where his chest once housed the mini arc reactor.

He unfastens your jeans and when you bump into the wall you kick your shoes off and drop them, shaking them awkwardly off your ankles. His eyes glide up and down your body and he bites his bottom lip. “You’re stunning, you know?”

“Privilege that comes with youth.” You say, running your fingers up his torso. “You’re holding yourself together pretty well though.”

He lifts you from the ground and pushes you against the wall. “I work out a lot.”

He starts kissing your neck and you tilt back your head to give him better access. “I can see that.” You half moan, wrapping your arms and legs around him.

You start to kiss again. Frantically. All teeth and tongues. You kiss like it’s a competitive sport and one of you will be declared the winner at the end. Your hands go to his hair and tug on it. He growls and moves off the wall, carrying you to the bedroom.

You drop to the mattress and unhook your bra sliding it off while he rids himself of his shoes and jeans. Not once do you break the kiss. You move back onto the mattress and drag him down with you.

He lays down, leaning over you to continue kissing you. His hand goes into your panties and he starts stroking his fingers up and down your folds. You spread your legs more and he starts circling over your clit.

You hum into his lips and run your palms down his back to his ass. You squeeze and his hips jerk against you. He counters by thrusting two of his fingers inside of you and dragging them over your internal walls. You gasp and grab hold of his cock.

He rolls so he’s completely above you and yanks your panties down. A moment later his fingers are back inside you, curled and stroking over your g-spot. You push him and roll on top, straddling his hips. He laughs and shakes his head.

“Protection?” You ask.

He points to the bedside table. You reach over and dig around until you find a condom. Tony continues working his fingers in your pussy, sending little tendrils of pleasure out through you. You hold the packet in your teeth and settle back against his hips. You grind against him.

“You’re kind of pushy aren’t you?” He smirks up at you.

You tear the condom packet open and start rolling the condom over his cock. “I could say the same for you.”

He takes his hand away and you guide his cock into you letting your head fall back and sighing as he stretches and fills you. He raises his hand to your mouth and traces his fingers over your lips. “Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks.

You part your lips and your tongue darts out grazing over his fingertips, just getting the very hint of your musk on him. You slowly rock your hips in a slow figure of eight. “Mm-hmm…” You hum. “I particularly like tasting myself on someone else’s skin.” You take his fingers in your mouth and slowly suck your fluids from them. The salty sweet of your arousal filling your senses.

Tony watches on, his pupils blown out with lust. “That is the best way to do it.”

You put your hands on his abdominals and slide them up to his chest. “What about you, old man? You ever taste yourself?”

He smirks at you and raises an eyebrow.

“Why Tony Stark, you dirty boy.” You say, bringing your lips down to hover over his. “I am impressed.”

“You said it yourself; I’ve lived a lot of years. I’ve had a lot of sex.” He says and pulls you down into a hard kiss.

He rolls you both over again and starts thrusting hard into you. You clutch at his back, your nails raking down his skin.

He kisses your throat and you kiss his until you’re both sporting matching hickeys just under the left corners of your jaw.

Positions change again. You ride him hard. Your hands resting on his chest while you stare down into his eyes. His thumb rolls over your clit and as you feel your orgasm peak he sits up and holds you in his lap, thrusting up into you.

You come, and bite down into his shoulder. He has to hold you in place as your legs tremble and you whimper through it. He rolls you on your back once more and grips the sheets by your head thrusting hard into you. You feel his cock start to throb and you push him off you and scramble down his body. You unroll the condom and toss it in the waste bin before plunging his cock deep into the back of your throat.

“Holy shit!” He gasps. His hands grip at the sheets and his hips buck up against you. You suck up his length and run your hands down between his legs. His hips jerk up again pushing him back down your throat and he releases. Hot ribbons of come coat your tongue and you swallow it down.

You slowly crawl back up his body and collapse half lying on him. He wraps his arms around you and you both just lie there panting.

You pat his chest and sit up. “Okay… that was good. I’m out.” You joke.

He laughs and grabs you pulling you back down. “Don’t leave too soon. We have several more rounds to go.”

You laugh and flop back down on him. “I wouldn’t get too eager there, old man. You’re gonna get sick of me way before I get sick of you.”

Tony laughs. “See that just sounds like a challenge.”

// NEXT

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man #iron man fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #genius billionaire playboy philanthropist #those little words

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