#most of these are just to show the tags I'll use! nothing fancy because then I'll forget | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostlynimbus · 1 year

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I posted 1,489 times in 2022

That's 1,489 more posts than 2021!

450 posts created (30%)

1,039 posts reblogged (70%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@andromedaspark

@ghostlynimbus

@flashwaves

@imsodishy

@every-dayiwakeup

I tagged 1,430 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#q - 597 posts

#stranger things - 588 posts

#billy hargrove - 379 posts

#ghost.txt - 359 posts

#steve harrington - 308 posts

#harringrove - 203 posts

#eddie munson - 178 posts

#gif - 136 posts

#chrissy cunningham - 131 posts

#eddissy - 115 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#ideally id like something higher stakes than like... scooby doo but i also dont want to feel constantly worried about main characters dying

My Top Posts in 2022:

I love when people hc that Billy wouldnt consider Jason a threat, its a lot of fun to read that.

But also consider:

Billy who doesn't consider Jason, by himself, to be a *physical* threat. He knows he can take Jason in a fight. Hell, he's pretty sure Max is scrappy enough that she could take Jason in a fight.

But Billy is still scared of him. Billy is terrified of the smooth talking, privileged, religious asshole and the potential social threat he could be.

Jason isn't dangerous because he's unhinged and will fight whoever, that'd be manageable to Billy, Jason is dangerous because he is *really* good at turning the narrative in his favor and starting witch hunts.

And that... I think that'd be terrifying for queer-coded Billy Hargrove.

(intentional or otherwise, i think it was a really meaningful detail that they showed Robin immediately after Eddie's "hunt the freak?" line. when she was just talking about how dangerous it'd be if she asked the wrong girl out earlier in the season.)

197 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

In an AU where Hopper ends up taking in Billy too, El picks up Billy's habit of saying "I can't do [x] im gay."

only she doesn't understand what it means really or what context is appropriate to use it in or that Billy's mostly being sarcastic/joking when he says it (he can in fact do math, and he personally thinks his driving skills are just fine thank you very much).

And it eventually leads to a situation like that one scene in Modern Family, with Hopper telling El "You're not gay you're just confused!" way louder than he meant to in the public space they're in.

219 notes - Posted September 5, 2022

s3 au where the mindflayer gets into billy but just... for some reason it can't really control him.

like at first the mind flayer thinks things are working, but it actually turns out that the things it was trying to make billy do were actually just things billy decided to do anyway

and the mindflayer just thinks he needs more time or to try harder or whatever to break billy and take over but just... nothing is working. by the time the mindflayer decides fuck it "i'll find a more convenient pawn" it discovers to it's horror that it can't voluntarily leave billy either.

billy still gets the heat aversion and the super strength and healing, and he's just like 'huh, that's weird' and continues on with his life.

Billy & the mindflayer:

youtube

281 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

Billy and Steve start hanging out and Billy starts noticing that Steve doesn't know how to do a lot of basic stuff, and the stuff he does know how to do he does weird.

At first Billy dismisses these observations as being a product of Steve having grown up rich, like.. of course Steve doesn't know how to change the oil on his car, he can afford to take the thing in regularly and pay someone else to do it. But the more they spend time together the more Billy realizes that thats not quite right.

The Harrington's have a shiny fancy working dishwasher (Billy knows it works, he's seen Henderson use it). But Steve always washes dishes by hand.

And it's definitely not that Steve is just some weirdo who likes hand washing dishes, he clearly hates doing it, but he still never uses the dishwasher.

And going grocery shopping with Steve is an actual nightmare, Billy thought he hated shopping with Max (who somehow always convinces him to buy her shit she doesn't need), but Steve... Steve makes shopping with Max seem well worth the wasted money.

The way he meanders about the store, flitting back and forth between the aisles and constantly doubling back to get something else that was right next to something he grabbed twenty minutes ago is absolutely incomprehensible to Billy. A shopping trip that would take Billy twenty minutes, even with Max tagging along, takes Steve at least an hour.

Billy also pretty quickly learns that if anyone ever points out any of these oddities, Steve will react in one of two ways.

Either he'll try and brush it off and downplay the whole situation or he'll get extremely prickly and defensive about it.

Billy does not understand, but the puzzle of it all fascinates him.

It's not until one time when Steve's parents come back early from a business trip that it finally clicks.

Billy had been staying the night, eager for more time with Steve and time away from Neil. He was supposed to be long gone by the time Mr and Mrs Harrington got back, but apparently their plans had changed last minute.

Billy woke to an empty bed, and Steve's empty bedroom, and had made his way downstairs just in time to accidentally catch the tail end of Steve's father berating him for apparently doing the laundry incorrectly.

It was clear Steve's dad had already been talking for a while, and the part that Billy caught was too long by itself.

And in all that time and with all those words Mr Harrington had for his son it was clear that not one of them were any sort of instructions on how to correct the mistake, no hint of how to do it right next time.

When Steve finally emerged from his father's study, looking so resigned (at least until he noticed Billy then he looked embarrassed), it was clear to Billy that this was Mr Harringtons usual way of handling such matters.

And that was when Billy finally understood that the reason Steve didn't know how to do basic things, or did them in weird incomprehensible ways, was because no one had ever taught him. They'd just expected him to start doing these things and then gotten mad when he didn't manage to do them to unspecified standards.

Months later, when Billy and Steve have moved into their own shitty tiny little apartment downtown, Billy starts showing Steve how to do shit. It's hard, trying to toe the line between gentle instruction and patronizing, especially since they both have so little experience with gentle but eventually, despite the times it blows up in their faces and one of them stomps off somewhere to cool off, they get better at it.

And as it turns out, Steve can actually be pretty good at all sorts of stuff as long as someone bothers to teach him.

446 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Thinking about Billy with food allergies/intolerances today.

Neil refuses to accommodate Billy's issues in any way. Susan makes whatever she makes for meals, maybe she knows about Billy's issues and is just forgetful about it, maybe she just doesn't care, maybe she doesn't even know about them in the first place. Whatever susans reasoning or justification the stuff that Billy shouldn't eat shows up in meals at the Hargrove-Mayfield house pretty regularly.

Billy isn't allowed to not finish his meals, that would be rude and wasteful. So he just does what he has to do and accepts that he'll suffer the consequences later.

He avoids meals at home whenever possible. But he also doesn't exactly have a lot of spending money to go out and get things he can eat (and lbr, depending on what specifically he's allergic to/intolerant of, it may be difficult or even impossible to find stuff he can eat that is cheap and doesn't require a kitchen to prep).

So he has a lot of times when he has to choose between not eating or going home and potentially having to eat stuff he isn't supposed to.

Steve at some point ends up making a meal for Billy and it includes the thing(s) Billy isn't supposed to eat bc he doesn't know. Billy doesn't tell him, just cleans his plate like he's expected to at home. He doesn't really care, it's what he's used to only better bc this was something that Steve made for him which in Billy's opinion makes it automatically better than anything Susan has ever made.

Only it's not like Billy can just leave after the meal is over, they still have plans to hang out for a while longer after that.

And Billy's good at hiding this sort of thing, Neil didn't like when Billy kept getting sent home from school because lunch kept making him sick. So Billy got good at hiding the reaction he has to this sort of thing. But Steve, Steve notices anyway.

And at first Steve is freaking out bc he thinks he gave Billy food poisoning, but then (because he can't stand Steve looking all anxious and upset with himself) Billy says that it's fine he's just not supposed to eat [xyz].

At which point Steve asks some variety of "then why did you eat it?/why didn't you tell me?"

And Billy just shrugs and tries to act like it's no big deal and mentions that he eats it all the time it's not like it's going to kill him.

Nothing gets resolved completely that night, but Steve makes Billy write him a list of all the things he shouldn't eat and a list of all the things he doesn't like to eat and Steve studies that list.

He starts making Billy food he can actually enjoy whenever he comes over, and when he notices that Billy either doesn't have lunch or has a lunch that has stuff on the lists he starts making him lunches too.

Billy can't even remember the last time he felt so well fed and taken care of, and he experiences a significant and overall improvement to his health. His new better diet even clears up issues he didn't even realize we're because of the food thing.

703 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #ghost.txt #tbf i only had this account for like 6 months #Youtube

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kadoodles-on-ao3 · 1 year

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It's been a while since my last aside so I felt like sharing what I've been working on in my free time! I promise I'm not lazy, I'm just busy and also really like starting new projects halfway through working on 8 other projects for some reason haha

Speaking of starting something new when I haven't finished something I started previously, Minh and I were planning on making a collab Shulkelia one shot for Valentine's Day! Obviously that didn't pan out haha but it's still being worked on and it's extremely cute and fun :) Hopefully it will be ready to post sooner than later! And I also will hopefully be able to work on Constellations soon as well!! (Seriously I feel. SO. bad about my hiatus, especially since I know how many interesting and fun rough-draft ideas we brainstormed up for it that are just waiting to be finalized and shared with the world!!)

Another thing I wanted to do for Valentine's Day but extremely missed the boat on was mass dumping the few good NSFW Shulkelia pieces on here (with a planned warning ahead of time as well as copious tagging and hiding under readmores, of course!), including a full translation of a doujin! However, it being a nearly 20-page comic with dialogue and onomatopoeia all over the place meant I couldn't go the normal route of putting the translation below the art, it would just be way too messy and confusing. So, I decided to open up Photopea and replace the Japanese text with my translation! I felt bad about editing someone else's work (still do haha) but there was just no other way to do it, there is. SO so much onomatopoeia in there that it would be a nightmare to do it any other way. But that fact also contributed to why I still have yet to finish the translation: I got wayyy too ambitious in my typical perfectionist way, and decided to use the clone tool to edit out the hiragana and katakana handwriting for the onomatopoeia and place English text in their places, rather than just put it in small, parenthetical text next to the original writing like manga translations typically do. And oh my GOD I should never have done that there are literal HUNDREDS of characters I had to painstakingly edit out and I'm STILL not even done yet no no no... But I'm so close to finishing it!! I have only a couple pages left and then it's good to go!! Expect to see it along with the other NSFW art of them (again, with multiple warnings far ahead of time plus careful tagging to make sure you won't see it if you don't want to!!) in the near future!

Not XC related at all, but my most recent project has been making an Ao3 site skin (and, in the process, learning how CSS works) and it's been really satisfying! It's nothing super fancy, but it does create a noticeable improvement from the default (in terms of clarity/organization/readability, no offense intended at all of course!) and I'm very pleased with it so far! Once it's done I'll share it here, complete with notes on what each piece is doing to the layout and how, so anyone can use it and tweak it how they like! :)

I unfortunately haven't made any more progress on Xenoblade 3, sorry to say. And actually... it's partially because I'm worried that I'll end up liking Noah so much that I'll get even more distracted from writing Shulkelia or Xenoblade 1 in general haha... Like I'd never give up on that of course, 1 and its characters will always have a special place in my heart! But I can see myself getting swept away by The New Guy TM, much like I do with new project ideas popping into my head...

My FFXIV x Xenoblade 1 crossover has made some good progress! I've now finalized the outfits for over half of the characters I plan on making, after hours and hours of trying different chestpieces and dyes to get them as close to their canon outfits as possible! In fact, maybe I could share a little more about what exactly I'm doing, to show how I was having too much fun and made it a bigger thing than it had to be, to help explain why it's taking so long haha:

So originally the idea started out as "what FFXIV job best suits the playstyle/archetype of each of XC's playable characters?" (and I have a whole host of notes in my head about why that is from both a gameplay/kit perspective and a fandom-y General Vibes/Aesthetic perspective, which I will for sure post along with the pics). And if I could draw well, it probably would've ended there: I'd just have made some art of the cast posing with their weapons and call it done. But since 1) I can't draw the things I see in my head like I want to and 2) I like to over-complicate things for fun, I decided to pile onto this idea by not only adding more characters of (XC SPOILERS!!!) Alvis, Egil, Meyneth, and Zanza to the roster (including in terms of what jobs suit them each and why!) but also recreate everyone in-game! (I really wanted to do Dickson as well, but unfortunately there are absolutely zero mustache options that look like his :< There's only one that's even remotely similar, but the face is completely wrong for him (what facial features look like are tied to faces, for some reason; the Mustache Facial Feature creates a different type of mustache depending on which Face option you pick) so there's no way to make a character that looks sufficiently like him, at least to my standards. Maybe one day they'll add one that fits...? If they do I will for sure make Gunbreaker Dickson a reality!) This resulted in me needing to not only sit down for hours in XIV's character creator ensuring every detail was as close a match to their designs as possible, but also opening up 8000 tabs in Eorzea Collection and looking through every. single. last. glamour option. in the game for each. and. every. slot. for each. and. every. character. to find out how closely I could translate their weird (affectionate) XC clothes into weird (affectionate) FF clothes. Combine that with my stubbornness in wanting them to look as accurate as possible resulting in making two different outfits per character based on whether or not they can equip/glam the gear as the job that suits them most, (plus the fact that I'm doing [again, SPOILERS!!!] Mecha-Fiora in addition to Homs!Fiora as well as having three [three!] different job options for Shulk based on varying levels of both XC and XIV spoilers to avoid ruining twists for either game), and the fact that I went a step further and decided to also make alternate-race versions for the main party (that sounds... bad lmao. fantasy races, like elves and catboys and such) like half if-these-characters-were-instead-created-by-the-XIV-designers-in-an-alternate-timeline-what-race-would-they-probably-make-them-judged-by-me-like-their-jobs-on-both-lore-and-Vibes-TM and half if-the-XC-gang-existed-irl-and-played-XIV-what-would-they-make-their-characters-look-like, and reminder that each of these versions have two different outfit variants and each outfit needs a minimum of 4 and a maximum of 7 separate pieces each that also need to be dyed and have multiple different options to try on for every character and... it took a teeeeny bit longer than I was expecting to get through haha. But that's not at all to say it's a chore to get through; it's certainly been a process yes, but I've been having a lot of fun the whole time :) Finally getting every element just right, from all the details in character creation down to their eyebrow shape to finding the best option for every armor slot dyed just the right color, seeing it all come together and actually look quite a bit like the character is so satisfying! I can't wait to share them all, I hope someone out there enjoys the results as much as I did creating them! :) Oh, and I also will be making a glam list for each outfit as well as sharing my notes on what I picked in the character creator, so if you want to do an in-game/WoL cosplay as someone or maybe even make an alt named after one based on my recreation of them then it'll be easy for you! :)

Even though I haven't been keeping up with my fanfic writing as much lately, I do still get little ideas for things quite often and am typing them down in my doc for later! I have a gigantic backlog of things I could write: fanfics long and short, Shulkelia fics and Genfics, non-fanfic concepts both XC-related and not... rest assured, even if I'm not posting on here or Ao3 my mind is always buzzing with something and I'm always wanting to create more!

#aside #xenoblade spoilers #xenoblade chronicles spoilers #oh also don't forget about my voice line project!! that will be coming in june!! :)#is there anything i forgot...? uhh i want to do a melia and/or shulk cosplay someday #my bf has a monado prop and everything haha #i like making my own cosplays as close to from-scratch as possible #but i'm not great at sewing plus the xc outfits are outrageously detailed so idk if that'll pan out haha #oh and speaking of xc and my bf having stuff from it #i managed to snag an unopened(!!!) limited edition xc 1 that came with a special red classic controller!!!!! the european exclusive!!!!#i got it for him for his bday but i mean i paid for it and i live with him so it's sort of mine as well haha #it's very surreal to actually have and see it esp since it's near-mint condition...#thank you to whoever kept it all these years and was willing to sell it and ship it overseas!!#we will take extremely good care of it forever!!

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lizzieonka · 1 year

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I posted 1,722 times in 2022

That's 1,398 more posts than 2021!

262 posts created (15%)

1,460 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lizzieonka

@oo-mi-ru-oo

@danelloevee

@echarie

@azapofinspiration

I tagged 1,608 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#blue lock - 419 posts

#stranger things - 316 posts

#lizzieonka.txt - 263 posts

#byler - 218 posts

#bachira meguru - 117 posts

#mp100 - 114 posts

#bllk - 104 posts

#goncharov - 91 posts

#q - 69 posts

#unreality - 67 posts

Longest Tag: 128 characters

#i mourn for them not being able to have fun because every moment of theirs have to adhere to a schedule on their google calendar

My Top Posts in 2022:

Really loving how Bachira went from "Hey Rin, do you have a monster inside you too?" to "You're the best, Kaiser. I'll crush you."

82 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

anime!Isagi: *gives Chigiri a pep talk

manga!Isagi:

He's literally trash-talking the guy! Stop making him the good guy!!!! THIS GUY IS EVIL, DON'T BE FOOLED!!!

93 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

Okay Blue Lock fandom, let's standardize this

A lot of Twitter users are coming, and if we don't want the harmonious fandom we have here to turn into a toxic one, let's make use of "anti tags"

What are anti tags?

Basically, anti tags are tags you use when you are against a certain character or ship. For example, if you hate the rinsagi ship for whatever reason, you tag it with #anti rinsagi and NOT #rinsagi. This way, people who actually like the rinsagi ship won't have to see the hate you're spewing about it.

The same goes with characters you don't like. If you don't like Nagi, tag your post with #anti nagi or, better yet, #anti nagi seishirou. Do not tag it with just #nagi seishirou.

By making use of anti tags properly, people can block out hateful content they don't want to see.

NOW PLEASE REBLOG THIS POST SO THAT MORE PEOPLE WILL SEE.

Let's make this fandom a safe space.

Edit: And please, DO NOT CENSOR CHARACTER OR SHIP NAMES in the anti tags. If you censor them, filtering them out will be harder.

130 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

"How long do I have to live like this?!"

ASDFGHJKL he's so dramatic. Chill, dude, they're just studying

202 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

An Honest Guide to Tumblr for Twitter Refugees (Part 1)

I know there are already tons of guides out there, but my WiFi was down the whole day and I got nothing else to do. Spent the entire morning making gifs, but still no WiFi, and I’m like, fck this let’s make a Tumblr guide.

Now, assuming you’ve already signed up and was able to snatch a fancy url*, here’s what you should do next: Log into Tumblr on desktop. You probably made your account through the app, and that’s cool and all, but for this guide, I’ll be showing some features that are currently only available on desktop Tumblr, so go ahead and get your laptop or PC out. Following this guide will also be easier on desktop.

*url = basically your username/handle on this site. We call them url’s because it what makes your domain name on your blog. More on this later.

Covered in Part 1:

Configuring your Tumblr Settings (filters, community labels, algorithms, etc.)

Customizing your Tumblr (how to avoid being mistaken as a bot**, enabling your Tumblr website, finding a Tumblr theme)

**this wasn’t included when I first made this post but decided to add it coz it’s really important.

Configuring your Tumblr Settings

Filters and Community Labels

Go to tumblr.com/settings/account. Here, you’ll find one of Tumblr’s most important features: filters and community labels. Filters are similar to Twitter’s “mute words” feature, and they come in two types: Tag and Content filters

Unlike Twitter, where tags are part of the post itself, Tumblr has a dedicated section at the bottom of the post to add tags.

Tag filters block out posts that are specifically tagged with #tag, while Content filters block posts containing a certain word within the body of the post itself. Once you have these set, you will never see such posts when using the search feature on Tumblr. It will still show up on your dashboard though, but it will look this and comes with the option to view the post for whenever you’re curious:

As for Community Labels, this should be self-explanatory. Mature content is now allowed on Tumblr, but if you don’t want to see such content, you can always opt-out.

See the full post

261 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false #Of course it's mainly #blue lock #miyamiwu.src

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goingmorry · 3 years

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PICTURE PERFECT [Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader]

Synopsis: It occurs to you that maybe – just maybe – Law’s more affected by your near-death experience than you are. And, oh, do you intend to use that to your advantage.

Tags: female reader, hurt/comfort, photography AU, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 3,096

Author's Note: This is my entry for @quirkyseastone Em's 1,000 Follower Event: Brew a Love Potion Challenge based on this potion. I had so much trouble writing this, but I had so much fun participating. I had a vision for this story, and it definitely did look all nice and pretty in my head, but when I finally put it down on paper, it’s like… yeah. Anywho, I hope it didn’t fall too flat and that you get some kick out of reading this. Thank you so much! 💖🥰

“Your devil fruit power. How does it work?”

Uncomfortable with his line of questioning, you shrug nonchalantly, hoping that the bits and pieces of information you relay are enough to sate his curiosity for the time being.

With the way Law lazily appraises you — tattooed fingers fidgeting with a bottle of ink, and feet casually propped up on the desk, the pointy edges of his boots threatening to stab you for your potential dishonesty (or so you think) — you can’t help but wonder if he’s had a lot of success asking this same question countless times to… much less savory folks.

In this case, a little trickle truth might not hurt then.

“I take photos of people, things, anything really,” you begin, albeit vaguely, your eyes wandering anywhere but at the languid pirate sitting across from you, “And it shows me their… origins.”

His lips twitch, the corner of his mouth curling upward in amusement at your poor explanation, before settling with, “I’ll need a lot more information than that if we’re going to be boarding the same ship.”

“It's nothing fancy; promise. And it's way less intriguing than yours,” you mutter, shifting in your seat.

“I'll be the judge of that.”

Biting your lip at his intrusive behavior, you eye him warily, waiting to be bombarded with the next round of questions, but not before sneaking in a question of your own.

Two can play at that game.

“How does your devil fruit work?”

If he's bothered by your sudden inquiry, Law doesn't comment, choosing instead to plant his previously elevated feet on the ground as he sits upright. Your eyes follow his inked fingers as he nimbly sets aside the object he was fiddling with earlier on the corner of his desk.

And then he smirks, that infuriating smirk of his, the one that implies a deep, dark secret that you're not privy to, and alarm bells start to ring in your head – making you want to wring his neck in frustration or slap his stupidly handsome face silly. You can't quite decide on which route would bring you the most satisfaction.

An uncomfortable silence settles in, but before you can act on your impulse, he breaks it with his low baritone voice.

“You can go.”

Surprise flits across your face before confusion sets. “That's… it?”

“For now.”

Your face falls because what exactly were you expecting? Of course, he'd table this conversation for another time, most likely after you've settled in and gotten cozy with the rest of his crew.

When you were least opposed to sharing this part of your story.

But you don't dwell on that and instead touch on the real reason for your visit, “Does that mean I'm officially part of the Heart Pirates?”

“Yes.”

Law doesn't elaborate any further, and there's nothing else you can think to say in response.

So you turn to leave, your hand gripping the side of the doorframe, but not before asking one last question to your new Captain, “Anything else I should know?”

Golden eyes lingering on the camera strapped to your neck, he scowls at the device and says, with no room for argument.

“In the meantime, no photos.”

For a second, the weight of his words seizes all range of your motion, and you nearly bang your head on the door from his request – no, command. The only upside to this encounter was that you didn't make a further fool of yourself – more than you already have, from the looks of it – as you exit his chambers with your head held high.

II.

Several months pass by when you decide to disobey his order. And truth be told, he's surprised that you lasted this long.

It's a quiet night when he finds this out.

III.

Rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, Law looks to the clock hanging in the corner of his room, scowling at the placement of its hands.

10:37 PM.

Way past dinner time.

Earlier that evening, Bepo had stopped by to remind him to go down for dinner, letting slip that the chef prepared his favorite dishes of rice balls and grilled fish in a convincing attempt to entice their Captain to eat at a reasonable timeframe. Having been preoccupied with an overflowing amount of paperwork, Law let out a groan and refused, saying that he'd be down shortly for a quick bite.

So much for that.

Releasing a shaky breath, he silently heads toward the mess hall, unsurprised by the lack of people upon his arrival.

In the lonely comfort of the kitchen, he arranges a quick bite to eat — leftovers of his favorite dishes thoughtfully set aside. Scarfing down his meal in record time, Law promptly tidies up after himself. But before he can retire back to his bedroom, a cluster of papers stuck into the wall catches his eye. Upon closer inspection, he narrows his eyes and frowns, fingertips hesitantly skimming over the colored prints.

Photos.

Joyful memories of his crew taken by you. Group photos with everyone making silly faces and hand signs, looking like one big happy family.

Candid photos of his men expressing various levels of joy — ranging from small smiles to full-blown crying waves of laughter — atypical of an infamously dangerous pirate crew.

Chaotic moments in the heat of battle. Bepo in Sulong form, illuminated by the pale moonlight, looking every bit as terrifying as the tales depicted the Minks' transformations to be. Penguin standing his ground while engaging an enemy Marine, sword confidently brandished and poised to strike. Shachi examining an injured crewmember, shielding their body in a protective manner, dark eyes glaring with murderous intent at the assailant.

There were images taken during your adventures throughout the Grand Line, celebrating the crew's accomplishments in chronological fashion, almost like a sentimental picture book one might have as a keepsake to pass down to future generations.

Soft footsteps pad from behind him, and yet he doesn't need to turn around to know that they're from you.

“I said no photos.”

“You didn't exactly specify what kind of photos weren't allowed,” you explain sheepishly, stopping a few feet away from him, “So I took it to mean no photos of you, which is perfectly fair, by the way.”

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Law coldly glances at you, the specks of gold in his eyes shining in displeasure mixed with — gods — you couldn't quite say, causing you to wince involuntarily. He doesn't confirm or deny your assumptions, instead opting for silence.

His lack of response is maddening, so you muster up the courage and cut to the heart of the matter.

“Can you at least tell me why?”

You already know why.

Or at least you think you do, in the short time you've known him.

And yet, a part of you craves to hear the words spill from his mouth — to feed your rising curiosity for the tattooed pirate standing within arm's reach.

He doesn't give you the satisfaction you seek, leaving you to your wandering thoughts as you stare at the neglected photo collection, disappointment clouding your judgment and your heart.

IV.

When you next talk, for longer than five minutes this time, it's your ass on the line.

Getting knocked overboard in the middle of a thunderstorm was certainly not on your list of things to do before departing from this cruel world. And drowning from your lungs being submerged in water, your corpse floating across the seas, never to be recovered again, was definitely not how you envisioned your death.

You were expecting something more gallant, like a bullet to your heart or a sword cut to your chest to commemorate your short life of piracy.

Not this.

Conveniently leaving out the part where your current predicament was all due to your penchant for rebelliousness, you fight to keep your head above the water against the crashing waves, desperately hoping for someone to spot you.

“There she is! She's sinking too fast, Captain!”

Law locates you almost immediately, using his devil fruit powers to bring you aboard his vessel. You've never felt so happy to be on all-fours atop the floorboards of the Polar Tang, sputtering mouthfuls of water to empty the excess liquid in your lungs. At your heaving, the winds roar in anger, mimicking the raging seas that were so hellbent on swallowing you whole.

A few words are exchanged between Captain and crew, and then you find yourself transported to the examination room.

“Strip—” he says without delay, turning away from you to give you some semblance of privacy, ”I brought you a change of clothes.”

Too exhausted to focus on how his initial comment can be misconstrued, you oblige, shedding your drenched clothing and fisting them into a ball for easy gathering. When you're fully clothed again, you examine the sad state of affairs that is your soaked camera, grabbing a spare towel to dry the water off from the surface. You quickly learn that turning it on does nothing.

No flash of light, no power, just an empty black screen.

“Damn it,” you mutter under your breath, resigned to the fact that your trusty companion for years finally met its end along with the countless photos stored within its memory.

Law hovers over you, a shred of empathy crossing his usually stoic features, and pulls the broken camera from your tight grip to set it aside. His tattooed fingers linger over the underside of your face before lifting your chin.

Making direct eye contact with him proves to be rather difficult, your mind implacably drifting to inappropriate places where he's involved: the scruff of his goatee as it brushes against your smooth skin, the curve of his lips as it settles on your own, the tip of his tongue peeking out from his mouth to seek entrance into your hot cavern — to which you would willingly give a hundred times over — without so much as a complaint.

What would he taste like? You wonder.

Squirming under his calculating gaze and unsure of where else to look, you settle for one of the glass cabinets behind him, distracting yourself from your lustful thoughts by counting the number of medical supplies on each shelf. If Law notices your erratic behavior, which you're positive he does, considering how perceptive he is, he doesn't comment on it, much to your relief.

Because despite knowing that your current situation was between a doctor and a patient — a captain and a subordinate — the proximity does nothing to calm the fluttering of your maiden heart.

“Check up time?” you wheeze, voice hoarse from your constant coughing.

The stethoscope in his hands answers your rhetorical question. With careful precision one finds from a well-trained medical professional, Law takes your vitals, touch remaining clinical and respectful throughout the assessment. Satisfied with the lack of severe symptoms and injuries on your part, he drops the caring doctor persona in favor of being a reprimanding pirate captain.

“What? No 'I told you so?'“ you joke, trying to lighten up the mood, the tension in the air palpable.

“You were sinking,” he states, ”And fast, might I add. If Shachi hadn't found you, you'd be more than six feet under by now.”

“I know, and I'm thankful to him, believe me,” you ramble, ”If he wants me to do his laundry for a month — hell, even a year — I'll do it. I owe him my life.”

Law's scowl deepens, inked fingers rubbing against his temples to relieve the growing headache, “How many times do I have to tell you not to lean forward—”

“I know!” you say defensively, still delirious from your accident, “It's not like I meant to fall over! I was trying to take a photo of the island in the distance. I wouldn't have done this if we just docked over there in the first place.”

“You do this every damn time the ship resurfaces,” he seethes, bright teeth flashing in anger at your pathetic attempt to defuse the situation, “Are you trying to test my patience?”

His posture is rigid, handsome face contorted in barely controlled anger, teetering right on the cusp of losing it. The golden flecks of his eyes burn like molten lava, ready to incinerate you where you stand, the unspoken threat in them evident.

Choose your words carefully, or they may be your last.

It occurs to you that maybe – just maybe – Law’s more affected by your near-death experience than you are.

And, oh, do you intend to use that to your advantage.

“I need some tender loving care here, doc,” you whine, pouting your lips in mock dissatisfaction, “If this is how you treat your patients, I'm not sure I want to be under your care for much longer.”

You swear you can see a vein pop up on his temple, but he tries to hold it together – he really does.

“Are you always this condescending?”

Your lips slightly part at the insult, the atmosphere growing tenser with every passing second of your teasing. You decide to ignore the blatant warning signs and humor him anyway.

“No, I'm just that way with you.”

He recoils from your statement, hands running wildly through his dark locks, an unhinged expression on his face that you've never had the pleasure of witnessing until now.

“Does your life mean so little to you?” he snaps, hand reaching out to grab ahold of your wrist, “Or is this your way of getting my attention?”

Law feels ridiculous for letting the words slip, unwilling to entertain this thing – whatever this thing is – between the two of you, but the flush of your cheeks causes unwarranted hope to bloom in his chest.

You admire the way your hand dwarfs over his, the way the ink contrasts and ripples against his sun-kissed skin, and how much rougher the tips of his fingers are compared to your own. You decide then that it might not be such a bad thing to spiral headfirst into emotional vulnerability, despite your inner voice protesting that nothing good can come from this.

It's now or never, you guess.

“You got me there.”

“Say that again,” he prompts, mimicking your action by throwing all caution to the wind, wanting to make sure that he heard you right the first time.

Your voice is slow and measured this time, cheeks flushed in embarrassment, aware that you've long since stepped past dangerous territory the moment you met with him that fateful day in his quarters. If it weren't for his serious expression, you'd think that he was purposely teasing you.

“Which is it?” he clarifies because your vague response doesn't quite answer his question.

“I crave your attention.”

Law takes a step back as if stung by your confession, causing your hand to fall back onto your lap. It hasn't been more than a few seconds since your separation, and you already miss his warmth.

Holding his gaze unflinchingly, you face him head-on. Your words echo in the enclosed space and his head. It takes a moment for your message to truly sink in now that they're out in the open, and it takes him even longer to dissect your intentions.

You wait for him to give you something – anything – a scalding remark, a disapproving glare, or even the click of his tongue would be preferable to this deafening silence. You bite your lip nervously instead, reigning in the anxiety gnawing at you from the inside, refusing to rush him because doing so could spell disaster for you both.

As a reward for your patience, he meets you halfway.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he closes the distance, situating himself in the space between your legs. Inhaling sharply at his nearness, you appreciate the way his Adam's apple protrudes from his coarse neck, noticing how the tension in his body seems to have been replaced with a certain calmness that only your presence can provide. Your breathing grows erratic, but the cause of your elevated heart rate isn't unwelcoming this time around.

“You already have my undivided attention.”

When you catch the unmistakable gleam in his golden irises, you gulp because you know trouble is soon to follow, “Law…”

“But you already know that, don't you?” The back of his fingers caresses the smoothness of your cheek, causing your eyes to flutter shut momentarily. In that gentle touch alone, there's no mistaking his infatuation for you.

“Why the sudden shyness?” he laughs, his trademark smirk making a reappearance, “Don’t start what you don’t intend to finish.”

It’s your turn to make a move.

Rising to the occasion, you eye his lips mischievously, reaching up to grab fistfuls of his jacket’s collar. Despite his quick reflexes, he doesn’t anticipate you pulling him down to smash his mouth onto yours.

It’s unplanned. It’s awkward. It’s done in the heat of the moment.

But, boy, does it feel fucking good.

His reaction, however, is instantaneous, maybe because he was seconds away from kissing you himself. What he lacks in foresight, he more than makes up for in action. When he playfully nips your lower lip for entrance, and you eagerly grant him passage, you’re keenly aware of how dangerous this man truly is.

Trafalgar Law reminds you of sweetened nectar; one sip and you’re a goner, the heavenly aftertaste of him potent in your tongue. And it’s far better than what your imagination can ever hope to conjure.

Your restless hands find themselves flat on his broad chest, feeling around the hardened muscles of his torso until the unmistakable beating of his heart pulls you away from your exploration.

“Your heart’s beating fast too!”

His hand fits itself over yours, guiding you away from his traitorous emotions, as though physically moving you away from the rapid beating of his organ is enough to invalidate your statement.

“You’re imagining things.”

You roll your eyes in jest, an endearing smile adorning your kiss-swollen lips, “Whatever you say, Captain.”

And then, he smiles, the first genuine smile since you’ve met, and your heart aches pleasantly at knowing that you are the cause of it. It’s rare moments like these that have your arms twitching involuntarily, seeking the power that photography can provide in preserving this memory forever.

As if sensing your thoughts, he motions to your broken camera with a tilt of his head.

“The next time you take a photo,” Law’s voice is soothing and slightly uneven in volume as he interlocks his fingers with yours.

“Take one of me instead.”

#seas brew a love potion challenge #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #one piece writing #mywriting

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Doppelganger" *Part 4*

I don't know why I do this, I'm such a little shit. I'm leaving this here, the biggest cliffhanger yet and I might not get one done tomorrow! MWAHAHHAHAHAHAA. No I'm just kidding, but seriously it might not go up until most of you go to bed so I'm sorry if you miss it!

This had to pick up though, it was kind of lagging. Gotta get that super angst/suspense ramped up!!!

I'll leave you to ponder that now as you go into this, mwhahaaha.

[Side note the position of the gif's *CHEF KISS* MWAH!!! I didn't even try and do that. It's so beautiful.]

Part 3

Part 5

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

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

You decided to grab Rafael’s favorite dish from a nearby deli, got something for yourself and Gabi, and headed up to the DA’s building.

“Wow, fancy,” Gabi remarked as you walked inside.

“I guess,” You shrugged. You had become so used to it when you worked for him, it wasn’t really anything special to you now. You walked down the hall and noted Rafael's new intern, a young guy of course, on your insistence. You knocked on the door softly, having some ‘nam flashbacks of the last time you knocked on this door.

“You ok?” Gabi asked you with a concerned face. “You look pale,”

That could be due to the fact that Rafael was not answering you, now you really WERE having a PTSD panic.

“Rafael?!” You poked your head in, terrified for some reason. To your relief, he was just on the phone.

“Uh huh, yes, yes sir, alright judge I’ll see you this afternoon,” He smiled at you and waved you in as he hung up with the judge. His face scrunched up when he saw you had a guest with you.

“...Who’s this?” He looked at Gabi suspiciously.

“This is my friend Gabi,” You introduced her as she gave a friendly wave.

“....And when did you meet Gabi, exactly?” Rafael still eyed her warily.

“Excuse me?” Gabi asked in an offended tone.

“Rafael, what are you doing?” You asked him through gritted teeth.

“You don’t think Nevada would have plants?” Rafael kept his eye on Gabi, who was starting to sweat. Gabi’s pulse quickened, she tried her best to keep a cool, calm expression.

“Rafael!” You hissed. “Are you kidding me?!”

“Who’s Nevada?” Gabi played dumb.

“Nobody, nothing-- it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” You waved your hands dismissively.

“What’s your story, Gabi? Do you have a last name?” He kept on her, noting her quickening nervous state.

“RAFAEL,” You grabbed his shoulder.

“Y/N,” He repeated back at you. He looked at Gabi-- “Can you excuse us a moment?” He then pulled you to the side.

“Baby, please be smart about this--”

“So what, I’m just not supposed to have any friends?” You scoffed.

“You have friends! You have Chloe,” He pointed out.

“Oh my god--” You looked to the side trying not to lose it in the office. “Rafael this is exactly what I’m talking about, you need to stop trying to control my life.. Stop trying to be my FATHER,”

Gabi couldn’t help but laugh as she heard you call him your father; clearly you had some raging daddy issues. Rafael glared at her, making her quickly stop.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Rafael started to walk back to his desk, dismissing you.

“Oh will we, dad?” You crossed your arms. “Am I grounded now? I can’t hang out with my friends until I apologize for talking back to you?”

“Y/N, please leave before I say something I regret,” He clenched his fist.

“No, please go on, father,” You spat. “Please, tell me what else I can and can’t do. Maybe you want to pick out my clothes for tomorrow? Escort me to my classes?” You yelled mockingly.

Gabi was enjoying the show, already planning her celebratory dinner with Nevada. Once he heard she drove a wedge between the two of you so he could swoop in would please him so much, he’d fuck her so fast it would make Marcella’s fake tits fall off.

“....Maybe I wouldn’t have to act like your father if you didn’t act like such a CHILD. God it’s no wonder they didn’t want to come see you!” He pounded the desk, then suddenly realized he had said the last part out loud.

Your face turned pale, your mouth dropped open as tears stung your eyes. You couldn’t believe that he had just said that-- he threw your biggest secret in your face like that, in front of a stranger no less. You stared at Gabi, who looked incredibly uncomfortable and confused. She was secretly celebrating being able to look anything else but as nervous as she felt while being interrogated by Rafael.

“Y/N….I didn’t mean--” Rafael immediately went to your side, trying to hold you and apologize.

“Yes you did,” You growled, trying not to cry. “You know what, I need a break,”

“...A break?” Rafael’s brows furrowed. “From me?”

“Yes, Rafael. A break from YOU,” You turned and started to stomp out of the office but Rafael grabbed your arm.

“Carino come on, don’t do this, not now--” Rafael begged you, still not trusting Gabi’s face.

“Oh right, because if you’re not beside me 24/7 I’m going to get kidnapped or something, right?!” You cried as tears dripped down your face.

Gabi was awestruck she was actually watching this conversation take place. Were they fucking with her? Did they know what was going on?

“I’m not saying that, but-- look please, please, listen to me--” He pleaded with you just as you had pleaded with him at the church that awful day.

“NO, Rafael,” You broke free from his grasp. “I’m tired of you thinking that you’re better than me, that you need to protect me like I’m a baby bird,”

“Um maybe I should--” Gabi motioned towards the door.

“YES you should,” Rafael huffed.

“NO, don’t bother Gabi, we’re leaving,” You huffed harder.

“...I’ll see you at home?” Rafael asked you softly.

“What did I just say?!” You rolled your eyes. “I’ll be at Chloe’s, don’t call or text me for a few days,”

“No, no I can’t do that--” Rafael protested.

“Either that or take this back,” You took off your ring and held it out to him. Gabi began to panic again, she knew she had to get that ring.

“Seriously? Don’t you think you’re--”

“What, acting like a child, Rafael?” You glared at him. “I’m trying NOT to, I just-- I just want to calm down, so just-- give me a few days,” You slipped your ring back on to Gabi’s relief. Then you nodded to her to follow her out and you both left Rafael’s office.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--” Gabi tried to act apologetic, but was secretly giddy inside.

“No, it’s not your fault,” You wiped the angry tears from your face. “I um...I need some time to myself right now though,”

“Of course,” Gabi nodded as if she was being kind and understanding, but really she couldn’t wait to call Nevada.

“Cool, I’ll um-- I’ll see you in class,” You were so out of it from being so upset you didn’t notice the huge smile crawl across Gabi’s face as she turned and ran the opposite way you were walking, dialing her phone.

“....Vada? I’ve got your perfect in,”

-------

A few days latter was your final. You had to perform Shakespearean monologues on the big main stage of the University, and you were terrified. You were kicking yourself that you had told Rafael you needed space as you paced back and forth backstage. You hadn't talked or texted him since you had stormed out of his office the other day.

“Hey, you okay?” Gabi came up to you from the side door.

“No, I-- I should call Rafa, I need him,” You went to get your phone but Gabi stopped you.

“Well, clearly he knows that,” Gabi gave you a smile, nodding to the audience.

You looked out to see Rafael sitting in the second row of the theater. When he saw you, he gave you a loving look and a small wave. You sighed happily; he knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew you’d need him here, and here he was. You loved him so much, you just wanted to go and kiss him and tell him you were sorry, but there would be time after your test.

Soon enough it was your turn, and you recited your monologue absolutely perfectly-- staring into Rafael’s beautiful green eyes the entire time. As soon as you were done, Rafael stood up and applauded loudly, making you giggle and blush.

Your professor looked a bit annoyed that your fiancé was there making a show of himself, but congratulated you on a job well done. You walked down the stairs and out into the house where Rafael met you with open arms and a dozen roses.

“Mi amor,” He beamed, as you jumped into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized as you snuggled into his chest. “I shouldn’t have been so--”

“No no no, shhhh,” He raised your face to look at him, his face so tender and pure. “I’m sorry carino, I never should have brought up your parents, I know how much you miss them,”

“Thank you for coming,” You kissed him gently, feeling complete again. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue down your throat and biting your lip.

“Raffi!” You broke apart and hit him playfully, glancing around to make sure no one saw such a dirty kiss.

“What? I haven’t seen you in a few days, I missed...this,” He grabbed your ass with both hands. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, although you realized you actually hadn’t spent more than a day apart before since you’d gotten together-- maybe you should punish him more often!

“Well, let’s go take care of that then,” You grinned devilishly, grabbing his own perfect little peaches in your dainty hands.

“I know just the place, carino,” He grabbed your hand and pulled you out the side doors.

You hadn’t realized that Gabi had been missing since before you started your monologue, and you hadn’t noticed that she had taken your phone from your purse while you were onstage. Currently, she was at the front doors of the theater lobby, arguing with….the REAL Rafael.

“Look lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but I think I know my fiancé better than you. She needs me!” He yelled.

“And I’m pretty sure I heard her say she NEEDS space, pendejo,” She blocked him from entering the theater.

“Is there a problem here?” Javi came over, dressed in a campus security uniform.

“Yes sir, this stranger is trying to burst in on a PRIVATE class, to stalk a student,” Gabi acted very concerned for her friend's safety.

“STALK a student--? Are you fucking kidding me? Kid look she’s--”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” Javi started to escort Rafael out.

“Excuse me? Look man I’m the ADA of New York I’m not some rando--” Rafael started to argue.

“Anyone on campus without a student or faculty ID is strictly prohibited, sir,” Javi lied. “Even if you are the ADD,” He messed up his title just to fuck with Rafael.

“The ADA!” He yelled as Javi pushed him out the front door and shut it, locking it behind him.

“Well, that was easy,” He smirked at Gabi, giving her a fist bump. Rafael saw it from outside the doors.

That could not be good….

------

Meanwhile

“Rafael” led you to a huge limo, helping you get inside.

“Wow, this is a step up from an Uber,” You joked.

“Well, I knew this was a big day for my baby, and I knew I had a lot to make up for,” Rafael smiled, kissing you deeply as you both got in the car, lips locked.

“God I missed you,” You giggled, kissing him over and over. It was true, even for a few days without him was like torture. His smell, his lips, his touch-- you needed it all.

If only you knew you were about to give it all away to someone you didn’t even know.

#Rafael barba #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanficton #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #nevada ramirez fanfiction #nevada ramirez x you #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez #raúl esparza #trouble in the heights #raul esparza #law and order SVU

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atsunflower · 4 years

Text

Hospital for souls — Tokyo nights.

Rated: SFW

Author note: Man, this one took me ages to write. And I don't even know how I could write this much for the second chapter, this is about 3,2k words. I'm tired because I decided to change lots of things in this chapter and I hope you all like it. Also, feedbacks are much appreciated!

Warnings: This chapter contains cursing, swearing, graphic descriptions of blood, violence and surgical procedures (Kind of inaccurate but only for writting purposes. Don't do it at home, kids). Also, there are slight mentions of anxiety, OCD and PTSD.

Enjoy the reading!

II — Tokyo nights

Previous || Next

You felt anxious.

Everytime you walked through Itachiyama halls, the hairs in your nape would stand and your skin, prickle in fear; a bitter taste would take over your mouth because everything was too much.

"Look, you don't have to worry. Itachiyama wouldn't dare to lay a hand on you because it would mean war." The memory of Suna's voice did nothing to soothe your nerves.

You knew that Inarizaki did not care. If anything, Itachiyama harming you would be like killing two birds with a stone: the Miya would get rid of your existence and then, have a excuse to go after your husband. "They know the twins' intentions, you know. It's not like Sakusa is dumb. Being honest, the guy is the most cautious man I ever saw" you recalled Suna saying it in your wedding's eve.

But one month after the deal, you still felt suffocated.

You opted to lay low and don't wander around the house; Sakusa's men were still suspicious of you and kept sending nasty glares in your direction whenever they saw you.

Since you weren't allowed to work anymore, boredom was killing you. At least, the maids were nice enough — or just too afraid to go against the lady's will — and let you do as you pleased. You then took over some house chores to busy yourself.

Cleaning, tidying and baking.

Sometimes gardening when you needed some fresh air.

"What a shame for Oyabun-sama, his lady is lowering herself to the peasants' level" you would hear some gossip here and there. Not that you cared, though.

"Sakusa-sama" you heard the housekeeper calling, the new name still foreign to your ears.

"Kaede-san? Do you need something?" The old woman wearing a green hakama stood in front of you, accompanied by a girl with dark blond hair.

"This is Kuribayashi Runa, the new maid working here" she said presenting the young woman by her side. The latter politely bowed at you.

"New maid? Why?"

"I'm afraid it's not appropriated the lady take care of house chores. These are strict orders from Komori-sama" her tone was dry. Kaede was never hostile towards you, but you could tell she wasn't fond of your presence either. "Also, remember you're having lunch with oyabun-sama today"

You released a shaky breath, dismissing their presence.

Why yakuza was taking even the smallest things from you?

Prying to the clock on the nightstand, you realized it was past noon and the lunch hasn't been served yet. Sakusa didn't show up either.

After being destitute of your duties, you went for a shower and killed time by reading in your bedroom.

Did something happen? You wondered.

Punctuality was something very fancied in this household and everything inside the mansion functioned like clockwork.

But how come Sakusa didn't show up yet? Why the food isn't set?

"[Name]" The door to your bedroom was open without ceremony, Komori's voice sounding harsh when he called you. The look on his face wasn't amicable either. "Sakusa wants to see you. Now."

The brown haired male did not spare you another glance, turning his back to you. You followed the tall man in an auto-pilot mode, already dreading whatever was going on.

The Kobun was taking you to Sakusa's office.

The large doors always made you feel unsettled; you never were there before. Being called to this room sent shivers down your spine.

Komori knocked the door only to the faint voice of your husband acknowledge your presence. Getting in, you were stunned. The whole mansion held a modern architecture with a minimalist design, and this room was true to Itachiyama's style.

The walls were pristine white and the floorboards were dark and shiny. The furniture held the impersonal style your husband seemed to appreciate and was clean to the eyes. Everything millimetrically positioned, aesthetically appealing.

By the glass wall, Sakusa stood proud. His back facing you, body clad in a black suit. The way he admired the stunning land through the windows held a power you never saw before.

Right now, he looked like a god rulling his own creation.

"Komori, go" his stone cold voice ordered the other male. The kobun did as he was told, leaving you two in this sinister room.

"I don't know if you are too brave ou just too dumb" he didn't turn to face you. The cold tone boomed loud within your ears and you felt cornered.

Forget the god thing. The man in front of you was the demon himself.

"What do you mean?" You asked, brows furrowing when suddenly, his enraged features loomed over you, even from afar.

"Don't fucking play dumb. I've warned you to stay out of my way" his menacing stare made the breath hitch in your throat "Where is the fucking folder?"

"I don't know what are you talking about!" You meekly replied, seeing his body growing close to yours.

"Thats it. You have a death wish." He merely stated "You're the only enemy inside this fucking house"

Without knowing what was going on, you didn't stand a chance to defend yourself. You tried opening your mouth in protest but your brain didn't come up with anything.

"Listen. I don't have the time to play whatever game you and those brothers of yours are planning." Sakusa scowled "In the first opportunity, you get to screw up. Fascinating."

"I don't even know what you're talking about" the cry left your mouth and your body trembled. The man before you grimaced at your outburst. He let out an exasperated breath, still trying to keep his cool.

"Do you expect me to believe you? Fine, I'll play along, then" He sat at the imposing chair behind his desk "The manila folder that was on this desk was stolen. You're the only one inside this house who has reasons to take it."

"It wasn't me! I never entered this room before!" You retorted, anxiety crawling in your skin. He fished his cellphone from his pockets, reading whatever on his screen

"Can't be proven, though it looks like we didn't find anything in your stuff–"

"Wait! You fucking messed with my things?" You cut him off in rage, observing him reaching over for a flask on the wooden surface.

"Well, you messed with mine first." He said while rubbing some hand sanitizer on his palms.

You rolled your eyes at his antics.

"Whatever" and then turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" The sarcastic voice filled your ears, making your steps to halt "As much as I despise it, you won't be out of my sight anytime soon"

God, You trully hated it here.

It was nighttime and true to his words, neither Sakusa nor Komori left you alone for the whole day.

Their presence was unnerving, to say the least, and everytime they talked to each other, you body went stiff.

Their speech wasn't explicit as you thought it would be. Both of them treated the matter as if they were making normal business instead of some yakuza stuff.

It didn't sound violent.

But you knew better.

"Have Fukuroudani made contact yet?" The Oyabun asked.

"Yes. Konoha told me they will be waiting by eleven" Komori peered at his watch "One hour to go. We should get going, then"

Sakusa turned his attention to you.

"Go get changed. We're leaving in ten minutes."

You did as you were told; black would do, you decided. Grabbing a wool coat and a satin scarf, you were ready to go.

Why the hell Tokyo nights were so cold at this time of year?

In the living room, Sakusa and Komori were waiting for you.

"Man, bringing [Name] along will be a pain" the brown haired male said while stretching.

"The stolen docs were about this meeting. We gotta bring her along if Inarizaki tries to do something" The taller one reasoned.

"Ah shit, this is so fucked up. I dont know how you agreed to it" Komori lamented.

Being honest, neither Sakusa did.

"Why do I have to tag along?" Your voice startled them. Your husband scowled at you while Komori opened the front door, both males ignoring your question.

A sleek black car was waiting for you three. Komori took the driver seat and Sakusa sat on passenger's side. You found comfort in the beige leather of the backseat, appreciating the warmth provided by the air conditioned.

"Shouldn't we bring more men with us?" The Kobun asked.

"There's a back up car in downtown. They can reach us in no time if something comes up" Sakusa said while covering his face with a mask "Also, I doubt someone would dare to mess with both Fukurodani and Itachiyama" He spared a glance at you through the rearview mirror.

You sighed. Anxiety didn't let you be for the whole day and now, fear was taking its toll on you.

With your temple resting on the window, you observed the city lights.

You loved Tokyo and how bright it was, although, you loved the suburbs even more; the industrial aesthetic and the narrow streets brought you the comfort you didn't feel in the last three months.

You lived here for your whole life, after all.

It wasn't a surprise when you spotted the building you used to live in.

A surge of homesickness found its place in your guts and your chest constricted in longing.

The drive lasted five more minutes before Komori parked the car by a hangar. When you lived in this neighbourhood, the place was deem abandoned with its vandalized walls and rusty gates. But inside there, you found our the interior was really neat, proving you wrong.

"Sakusa-san, Komori-san!" A blonde male came into view, eyeing you with wariness. "I see you brought your lady tonight. It's a pleasure having you here, miss" the indifferent tone of his voice said otherwise, tough.

You merely noded at him while the heads of Itachiyama greeted the man.

"Shall we start, then?"The blond asked before opening a door to your right. You felt unsettled knowing they wouldn't want your presence there.

"As you wish, Konoha-san" was all Sakusa said while a woman appeared out of nowhere.

"I'm afraid your wife would be pretty bored in our meeting. Yukie here will keep her company for the time being." The man Konoha pointed at the brunette with short hair. Sakusa sent you a hard stare before entering the room.

You both sat on some wooden boxes filled with god knows what. You eyes wandered through the hole place, trying to find something entertaining.

The woman hadn't said anything for a whole eternity before breaking the silence.

"So, Miya-san, huh?" The way she said the damned name tickled you off.

"I'm no Miya"

"Yeah, I know. I've heard of you" Yukie chuckled, looking at you with despise. You cocked a brow ate her.

"Sure you did" She was about to retort before the door was open again.

"Well, it's always a pleasure to make business with Itachiyama. We will see you off, then" Konoha said before reaching for the exit.

It was long past midnight when the meeting ended. The five of you were by the gates, Konoha and Komori doing some chit-chat, when four people appeared out of nowhere, knives in their hands.

"Ara, ara. look at these yakuza big shots" A man with an undercut said, fidgeting with the blade between his fingers. In your periferic vision you saw Yukie running back to the hangar and the three men by your side reaching for the guns by their hips.

Among the other four, a figure seemed familiar to you.

"Kuribayashi Runa" The name left your lips in a whisper. The female let out a mocking laugh and Sakusa frowned at you.

"Explain" Your husband immediatelly demanded, grimacing.

"She is the new maid working in your house. Today was her first day." Runa scoffed at your reply.

"Do I look like a maid to you, bitch?" And then, everything went into slow motion.

The woman came in your direction, holding the knife high in the air whilst you stepped backwards, being cornered by the gate.

You saw the blade glinting under the street lights and saw it aiming for your chest.

But it never came.

A hand pushed you downwards and you fell to the ground along a clattering sound. Sakusa's shadow loomed over you, trying to evade the knife.

By your left, you saw Konoha and Komori fighting the other guys, their guns useless in a hand-to-hand fight.

The adrenaline rushed through your bloodstream, your mind going frantic. It felt like one of those life or death situations you faced in the surgery room.

How can I save someone's life right now?

You saw Sakusa's pistol laying on the ground next to you. He and the woman were a couple of inches from your body.

You knew what you had to do.

With your leg reaching forward, you made her trip. The knife she held was kicked away by your husband.

"Sakusa! Watch out for Komori!" And you threw the gun at him.

A second too late, the bang echoed and an agonizing scream ripped through the night.

By your left, Runa and two of the guys were already running away.

The man Komori fought collapsed to the ground clutching his leg and cursing under his breath.

But the most disturbing sight was the way Komori held his arm, whimpering and cursing while his right hand clutched the knife's handle.

The blade tore his flesh and crossed the limb right next to its joint, in a weird angle.

Yukie came back, carrying a rope and a pistol.

"I sent some of our men to their direction." She said while helping Konoha to restrain the guy who attacked you.

"What the fuck you guys want?" The blond asked before kicking the man in his guts. The latter spat blood, giving a crooked smile at Konoha.

"Johzenji is coming" Was all he said before passing out.

"Yukie, carry him to the basement." He ordered "Since it happened on our territory, we will be investigating the incident. We count with Itachiyama's cooperation and will keep you updated" Konoha bowed at Sakusa, before rushing back to the building.

Komori was still on his knees, head hanging low. A grunt went past his lips and you knew what he was doing.

"Komori! Don't!" But again your shout came too late and the man ripped the knife away from his limb. Blood rushed through his fingers and dampened the suit he wore. "Fuck" you rushed to his side, Sakusa's features going livid.

"We gotta take him to a hospital" you said.

"No!" Komori croaked out, getting a hold of your arm. You knew what he meant, but you also knew what could definetely happen if he ignored the situation.

Sakusa was frozen in front of you two, unsure of what to do. You took a deep breath, mustering up all the courage you had.

"You have to trust me, then" you held the brown haired male by his torso and gave Sakusa a determined glare.

The oyabun noded at you and it was all the assurance you needed before ripping out Komori's blazer and transforming your scarf into a tourniquet.

In your old apartment, you ushered the two males inside, taking them both to your kitchen.

Sakusa sat the Kobun in a chair while you went to another room. A minute later, you brought two metallic cases, some flasks and a first aid box.

In the cupboards you took a flask of alcohol and squeezed it to the table, wipping it with some gauzes.

Positioning Komori's arm over the wooden surface, you sterilized his wounds with povidone and then turned your attention to Sakusa.

"I'll start it now" before proceeding to the sink. Sakusa admired the movements you made while washing your hands "I need you to do the same" and he complied.

The male helped you to put the gloves and mask on and to set your instruments over the table.

Looking at Komori, you realized he passed out in spite of the pain. The blood loss wasn't huge, but you did not knew why he fell unconcious.

You prepared two syringes of anesthesics. Sakusa sent you a weird glare, brows furrowing at you.

"Don't look at me like this. I'm a surgeon you know" and then you did the infusion. "Its not that weird if I have some hospital shit at home".

You opened the cut with a scalpel. Scrutinizing at the wound, you saw the artery was hit.

"Thank god." You let out a breath of relief, realizing the damage was little. It didn't need an anastomosis, so some stiches would do. "The ulnar artery was hit but it won't be too hard to fix. Although, I can't tell if there's a nerve damage" and you started to close the vessel's lesion.

You observed if there was any muscle or tendon damages and proceeded to suture the gashes, making sure the procedure was well done. You then patched it up and imobilized the limb with a makeshift splint, before undoning the tourniquet.

"Let's take him to my bedroom" With that, you both carried the unconcious man to your bed. "I need to check him overnight and– Shit! Your face!" It was just now you realized he had a gash on his cheek.

Sakusa flinched, feeling the blood drying over his skin and dampening the mask he used. He removed the cloth and observed the cut with the front camera of his phone. He frowned at the sight.

"It can get an infection and leave a nasty scar. Do you want me to patch it up?" You offered after checking Komori's blood pressure and his heartbeat.

A please left his lips in a whisper.

You both went back to the kitchen and you used a new set of tools. Holding his face between your gloved hands, you admired his facial features.

Sakusa was pretty.

Almost ethereal with his thin nose, almond eyes and thick brows. In addition, te two moles on his forehead complimented his beauty.

You snapped out of your reverie, getting to work.

"Finished. This kind of suture won't leave a visible scar" you said cutting the thread and reinforcing the stitch with tape.

Your finger lingered a bit longer on the apple of his cheek. Sakusa grabbed your hand and held it for a while before getting away from you and settling himself on your couch. You ignored the ghost of his touch on your skin and went back to check on Komori.

That night, Sakusa realized that no one ever handled him with such care, as if he was made of fine china.

I like that touch, he decided.

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Note

I have so many prompts😭😬 my last one was "Peter works at a rescue, Tony comes to get a doggo because he’s a single man in his 50s starting to feel the emptiness of the penthouse more and more. He gets way more than that."👬🏻🐶 But if that's not your thing and you fancy having a look at the ones I think of + ones others have come up with and I thought were cute I'll leave you the link ( /tagged/pp%3A%20prompt ) 🌸🌸🌸 can't wait to read regardless of the prompt!! have a lovely day!!

Struck From A Great Height

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Teen (T) Notes: This was perfect! I love puppies and Tony with a puppy was a true treat to envision. Thanks for the prompt @puppypeter! I’ll take the next one please ;D Oh, & the picture Tony sends to Peter is this one! Word Count: ~3.3k Warnings: There aren’t any - just cute puppies. Summary:

Tony is lonely so he adopts a white lab named Zero. He meets another kind of puppy at the rescue and decides to keep him, too.

do the thing, send in all the prompts

Loneliness – a word that could easily be used to describe the feeling that steadily crept up on Tony Stark.

He couldn’t pinpoint when it became a thing. For most of his life, being alone was the goal – with no one around to want things from him, Tony was free to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Building a multi-billion-dollar company up from a structure that Tony didn’t want anything to do with took a lot of time and effort. Simple things like love and affection weren’t really anywhere near his scope.

When getting older started to become apparent, Tony ran from it. He hopped into bed with whatever man looked his way with the right sparkle in his eye. If these people found him to be desirable, did looming near 50 actually mean anything?

The longer he let himself stoop to the lowest of low, the more he realized that men who wanted nothing more than his body weren’t worth the effort it took to get dolled up, go out, entice them, and do the whole song and dance that inevitably led to something quick in the bathroom or a rough fumble in his bed. Waking up alone after that made the emptiness ache a little more.

It became pretty apparent that behavior like that didn’t particularly help, so he reverted back to the lab rat that he truly was and put all of his efforts into the creation of tech and furthering of the projects that were already in the works. If Tony could rely on anything to get him by, it was his brain and the depths that existed within it.

And while that was fulfilling in a professional sense, Tony craved something more. No matter how much he told himself he didn’t need anything or anyone else – the deepest part of his soul called out, his soft bits desperate to take care of another living thing. The grandness of his penthouse that used to bring him so much joy just seemed empty – the multitude of rooms wouldn’t make him happy, that much was for sure.

Rhodey brought up the idea of a pet one night over dinner – he’d been able to step away from his pregnant wife to spend a bit of time eating junk food and playing the latest COD update. Tony didn’t like to admit it, but this time with his best friend was the highlight of his month. The thought of that made his skin crawl slightly – he loved the hell out of Rhodey, he couldn’t deny that. Yet, being completely overjoyed by nothing other than his presence had that pit of loneliness opening up within him a little more.

Listening to him talk, Tony wasn’t put off by it – in fact, having a dog with floppy ears to make a mess around the place might actually be the cure to the melancholy that didn’t want to go away. Tony couldn’t take the blue feeling for much longer – to most people, his life was perfect. Trying to portray that constantly was exhausting and compounded the already shitty feelings that weren’t anywhere close to changing.

The very next day, Tony spent the first part of the day looking up rescues that were open for adoption. His heart started to beat a little faster when he started to scroll through the many adorable little faces of the dogs that were just waiting for someone to come along and take them home. A small white lab puppy caught his eye, the small dog making his decision pretty easy.

Tony took the rest of the day off – he wanted to see about the adoption process and if all things went well, get his new friend home and on the path to adjusting to the good life that he couldn’t wait to provide. Changing out of his suit into a pair of jeans, an old AC/DC shirt, and an open black and red flannel, Tony set out towards Happy Tails, his final destination.

A wave of nerves washed over him when he first walked through the door of the shelter. The smell of cleaner reminded him of the many hospital visits he had over the years, the memories almost enough to send him back through the doors and as far away as possible. Before that could happen, Tony was welcomed by a soft voice – a sense of calmness surrounded him almost immediately. Continuing on his original path, Tony clenched his fist tightly and walked towards the comforting voice.

“Welcome to Happy Tails!” Tony heard again when he got a little closer. Looking up, Tony had to stop himself from gasping – the man behind the counter was the most exquisite being he’d ever seen. Chestnut hair framed sharp cheekbones that were covered with a soft redness that probably sat there enticingly all day. There was the slightest touch of facial hair coating the man’s face, the chin strap he was working on still on the thin side. When they locked eyes, Tony felt himself blush, the wide smile on pink lips knowing and entirely too enticing to actually be real.

Raising a hand like the idiot he actually was, Tony waved at him – his stomach dropping at his stupidity almost instantly. “Uh, hi – “ Tony muttered, his brains attempt to fix the situation failing miserably. The hearty chuckle he was met with was just as sinful as the smile and eyes and cheeks that this man was graced with.

“Hi! Thanks for stopping in. I’m Peter – one of the resident puppy gurus. What can I help you with today?” The man – Peter, said with a wide smile and the most brilliant twinkle in his eye. Tony found himself returning the look without a second thought, his cheeks pinching uncomfortably after a few minutes of the beaming grin taking over his face.

“Puppy guru, huh? You may be exactly who I’m looking for, then. I saw this dog online,” Tony started as he walked closer to the desk Peter stood behind. He showed him the beautiful white lab, the fingers on his phone shaking slightly. “I want to adopt him, if he’s still available.”

“Oh, that’s Zero. He’s one of the newest fellas on the block and is very much available. He’s really chill and likes to sit around a lot for a dog his age. Labs are usually filled with energy. Not Zero – he’s just along for the ride.” Tony listened intently, Peter’s babbling about the dog absolutely adorable. Not to mention the fact that Zero sounded like the best companion – another entity in the house that just wanted to exist.

“Why don’t we got back and meet him? They just got fed, so he’ll be ready for a nice cuddle.” Peter gestured for him to step around the counter and opened the door leading into the kennels, following behind him closely. Tony looked around, his senses overwhelmed by all the sounds and smells that immediately hit him. There were a multitude of dogs in kennels, all shapes and sizes of them, each one looking at him with some sort of look in their eyes.

Peter put a hand on his lower back and pointed towards the end of the hall – “ the puppies have their own hallway.” The hand stayed where it was until Tony was out of the danger zone and in an area that was far less populated. Tony saw Zero before Peter could point him out, the small white lab sat in the middle of its kennel, looking at them curiously.

Tony felt his heart melt a little when Peter opened the kennel and Zero walked right over to him. Crouching down, he put his hand out to be smelt – the wet nose against his skin had him laughing, a huge smile slipping across his face. When the paw shot out to press against his wrist, Tony was a goner. He sat on the floor and let Zero walk into his lap – Tony wrapped his arms around the pup and scratched wholeheartedly up and down his back.

He saw Peter sit down beside him in his peripheral vision, his hands reaching out to run over Zero’s soft fur, too. Tony turned his head to look directly at him, the grin still alive and well on his face. “What do I need to do? I can’t leave here without him,” Tony admitted shamelessly, his chest light in so many ways for the first time in a while.

The smile he got from Peter in response to his question could only be described as breathtaking – the roundness of his cheeks made Tony want to reach out and touch; his entire being ached to see if his skin was really as soft as it looked. He watched Peter slip his tongue out and wet his lips, the other not missing the fact that Tony couldn’t look away. Peter let out a soft breath and kept staring at him.

“The process is pretty easy, honestly.”

And it was – Tony paid the fee and signed the paperwork while Peter ran through Zero’s latest vet visits and the ones that would be necessary in the future. Tony didn’t think to bring a leash, so Peter gave him one hanging behind the desk. “I teach a behavior class on Friday nights. You can bring the leash and Zero back later this week for it,” Peter said confidently, their fingers brushing when the leash exchanged hands.

Nodding, Tony held up the leash in salute. “Whatever you say, puppy guru. Do you happen to have a card? Just in case I have any questions, or anything.” Tony tried to sound innocent, but the smirk that pulled across his face gave him away. It’d been a long time since he tried to get someone’s number – he felt a little rusty.

Peter didn’t miss a beat, however – he pulled a drawer open and de-capped a pen, his hand flying over the card quickly. “That’s my personal. Just in case,” Peter shot back, his fingers pushing the card across the counter.

Tony picked it up before he knelt down to get the leash attached to Zero’s collar – the dog resting heavily against his leg while he did. Petting his head lightly, Tony stood back up and threw Peter one last grin. “Thanks for the help, Peter. We’ll see you Friday.” Tony couldn’t help but smile as Zero started to pull him forward, the dog’s paws slipping on the floor in his haste.

----

After letting Zero explore both the front and back seat of his car, Tony settled into the driver’s seat and set off towards the nearest pet store. He felt a little nervous bringing his brand-new friend into the store – they weren’t used to each other yet. Zero didn’t even bat an eye, though – he followed Tony around the aisles with a wagging tail and minimal barking. Tony held the different toys down for Zero to sniff every now and again, his dog just as indecisive as him.

In the end, they left the store with a whole lot more shit than Tony originally intended. The big bed looked hilarious in the backseat of the small Audi. Zero seemed to like it, though – he curled up on the thing the second Tony started the car. He figured he’d be dealing with an unruly puppy, or overexcited thing that couldn’t control itself. The reality of the situation was even better.

The night went surprisingly well – Tony let Zero take up whatever space he wanted in the penthouse. Peter assured him that he was potty trained, which proved to be correct pretty early on when the dog scratched his leg and looked longingly towards the balcony. He did it again early the next morning, his cold nose pressing against Tony’s cheek more than enough of a wakeup call to get him out of bed, stumbling towards the sliding glass door. The damn dog was too cute, it seemed impossible to hold anything against him.

Physically unable to part himself from Zero, Tony put the brand-new blue collar and tags they got the night before around his neck. The ‘bad to the bone’ leash clipped nicely to it – the whole look totally fitting for the badass little pooch. With Zero completely decked out and identifiable as Tony’s, he felt comfortable enough to leave with the pup for the day.

Tony’s caffeine headache had him pulling into the drive-thru of his favorite café, a smile coming to his face when he got to order a pupachino for the little dog that already owned all the pieces of his malfunctioned heart. Zero climbed up onto his shoulder while they waited in line, so Tony flipped the camera on his phone and took a picture of the two of them. Fumbling around the cupholder he put Peter’s card in, Tony sent the picture in a text – the happiness he felt needed to be shared.

Tony Stark: Look how cute we are. Thanks for hooking us up.

He got a few sips of his coffee in before his phone went off, the number he already typed in as Peter Parker lighting up his screen. Tony shook his head at the giddy feeling spreading through his chest, an old man like him shouldn’t feel as on edge about a cute guy texting him as he did in that moment.

Peter Parker: You two are quite the pair. Peter Parker: It was my pleasure! Glad to have made such a sweet connection.

The soft grin he already associated with Peter stayed on his lips the rest of his drive into the office and even further into the day as the two of them continued to text back and forth. Tony didn’t get much work done – between trying to be as charming as possible in his texts to Peter and loving the fuck out of Zero, there wasn’t much room for anything else.

Predictably, the rest of the week followed suit. Tony couldn’t get enough of the white fur-ball that got more and more comfortable with him as the days passed. Zero stayed by his feet while he was in the lab and followed him around the penthouse when Tony was finished for the night. The mutual appreciation of walks had them wandering around the little neighborhoods Tony never took the time to explore before.

By the time Friday rolled around, Tony was excited to show off his and Zero’s bond – a big part of him thought that Peter would be the most impressed by something like that. In their conversations throughout the week, Tony learned that Peter trained dogs professionally after studying behavior in college. He answered any of Tony’s questions and appreciated all the little anecdotes Tony shared about the short time he’d been enjoying the heck out of Zero.

Walking into the room he was directed to, Tony lit up when Peter noticed him. In a couple of long strides, Peter was right in front of him, his hand already reaching down to press against Zero’s head. “Hey you two! You guys are in luck – it’s a small class, so you’ll get lots of hands on stuff tonight,” Peter caught his eye as he spoke, the smirk on the younger man’s lips making Tony’s throat suddenly very dry.

He nodded his head listlessly, his hand tightening on Zero’s lead. The crush on Peter that he’d been fostering for the past few days doubled in size throughout the next hour. There was one other dog owner and their pup – another puppy adopted from the rescue. Not only was Peter attentive, he knew his shit and didn’t mind explaining things as he went. As someone that put information above almost everything else, Tony liked all things about that.

Zero seemed to like it, too – he showered Peter with affection when he stood talking to Tony at the end of the class. He nosed at Tony’s hand, then pressed against Peter’s leg and licked at his ankles. Tony couldn’t help but grin down at him – the antics already too much.

“I found a local brewery that has a patio that allows dogs – any interest in catching a drink with us?” Tony asked – the conversation had got to the point where they were just staring longingly at each other. It seemed like the perfect time to put himself out there. The grip on Zero’s lead tightened for just a second; he didn’t think he read their interactions wrong, but after so much time away from the dating game, he could never be too sure.

Peter reached out and laid a hand on his arm, the touch the slightest bit reassuring, “I would like that very much. I hope you’re talking about Landry’s – they have the best cheese curds.” He turned his body and started to gather his stuff up like he’d merely been waiting for Tony to buck up the courage to invite him out before getting his shit together. Maybe he was – the idea of that honestly not the worst thing. At least then, he was joined in the intensity of his feelings.

They split up for the few minutes it took them to drive their separate cars to the brewery and met back up at one of the picnic tables closest to the open grass space right next to the building. There were a couple of other dogs milling around the grass – Zero looked over at them curiously, but remained by Tony’s side, his body resting on his feet after a while.

Their view of the sunset was fantastic – they shared a couple orders of cheese curds and truffle fries; Tony liked the way Peter closed his eyes around the bites that were extra indulgent – the redness of his cheeks absolutely divine. The amount of times being caught looking at him probably should have been embarrassing. Yet, Peter simply smiled back and moved his hand a little closer to Tony’s on the table.

It took most of the night for their fingers to finally tangle together – Tony wanted to be sure and enjoyed the build-up to it once he was. Peter’s hands were just as soft as Tony imagined them – his long fingers fit perfectly between his own. They shared a shy smile and sat together until the sky started to rumble a little while later.

Big raindrops suddenly falling on them made the decision to pay the bill and huddle for warmth in Tony’s car easy – Peter climbed into the passenger seat without any restraint. It was obvious that neither man was ready for the night to end.

In hopes of a few seconds to think his next move through, Tony started the car and made sure the vents were open so the car didn’t get too hot. He was startled by a cool hand on his own, Peter’s fingers around his wrist pulling his attention back to where they both wanted it to be.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Peter admitted, his body shifting in the seat. The Audi didn’t have too much space in it, so they were already close. The move of Peter’s shoulders brought them within breath sharing distance. “I like spending time with you.”

Tony didn’t bother trying to find the words to respond appropriately. Without any hesitation, he closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. His hands wandered to the front of Peter’s shirt; the fabric there warm from the heat of his body. A soft moan left Peter’s lips, the sound so encouraging – Peter’s response to it all exactly what Tony was hoping for.

Tilting his head, Tony was about to deepen the kiss when he felt a wet tongue on his cheek. Since his was currently tangled with Peter’s, it could only belong to none other than Zero. He pulled away with a sudden laugh – the excellence of the situation hitting him when Peter beamed at him.

“Better get used to him, Zero. I don’t think he’s going anywhere,” Tony murmured, one of his hands running softly over the puppy’s head.

Peter pulled Tony and Zero towards him, the group hug the sweetest thing Tony figured he’d ever been a part of. The press of lips against his forehead had Tony sighing, his body light for the first time in decades.

The start of something new felt pretty damn good.

#starker #ironspider #puppypeter #bobbie writes #au prompt #struck from a great height

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georgemackayhey · 4 years

Text

More Than A Night Out

warning: Explicit content 18+ Only

w/c: 5k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You sat behind the roped off a section of a smoke-filled bar in one of Vegas' most hectic hotels, sporting a fancy dress and feeling a bit anxious.

"I'm George. And you're who I'm supposed to be introducing myself to, right?" He stood leaning in close before you clad in a casual leather jacket with his hands shoved in his pockets. Reading body language had become a much more important part of this job than you'd once figured. But there was a difference between assessing and staring. And you had to catch yourself on the edge of openly gawking at the lean beauty who called himself George.

"Yes, yes, thanks for sparing some time for a chat." You smiled warmly, scooting to the corner of the curved red vinyl booth. George let his nervous grin flicker into a warmer expression as he slid in to meet the opposite corner of the table.

You were a writer for an independent magazine based out of New York. Your publisher had sent you all over America to interview all kinds of talented people of current pop culture. You were used to celebrities and their lingo, and you were used to the pseudo niceties these interviews came along with. After answering your questions with nothing but pride, your subjects would leave and go on being popular. It was your job to make them seem like normal human beings, with an overload of charm.

In your lap, a hardback notebook held all your hastily scribbled questions that you thought up in preparation for this moment. You were meant to ask George MacKay how his latest film had changed his life and about his rise to fame. You were supposed to get him to gush about acting and tell you some beautiful antidote no other interview had managed to hear the likes of. Your job tonight was to focus on George's latest project, 1917. But George asked the first question.

"So you've been doing this a while, huh?" The man with sky blue eyes asked. A waiter had breezed by, sliding a list of drinks for you pair to choose from.

"I only ask because the bio in your email was like, really impressive. I don't know if I'm worthy." George laughed, gazing at the beer list as you shrugged. You had conducted conversations with the likes of many old, jaded stars. Tonight was different. A young, spirited man sat across from you and his eyes were shining right into yours. You were completely unworthy.

"Don't worry. I'll only write exactly what you say." You smiled, eyeing the mixed drinks, but only ordering water when the waiter came back by.

"What's been your craziest interview?" George wondered, propping his chin in his hand as he looked to you like a boy in school, and you were a fireman on career day. You laughed out loud, because yes. You laugh because you were supposed to be asking the questions.

"I made Axel Rose cry." You grinned, peeking behind a strand of your hair to ensure this wasn't something you went around telling everyone. "He was the guest during a benefit for our magazine. I asked about his family and he just sort of lost it."

George laughed out loud, beaming at you. So far, this felt more like riffing with an old friend of a friend. You nearly forgot about the list of questions in your lap. But even after you cracked open your notebook, George still had more to say.

"With the right questions, I bet you get a lot of dirt." He rose a pale brow as if there was something he was trying to get you to understand. A code he wished you would crack.

"You should let me ask you a few." You mused, leaning in a little closer to establish your longing to get this show on the road. Not that you wanted the night to end sooner. You could have basked in the glow of his blinding smile for all time. But you were on a clock...

George watched your mouth move as you asked him about 1917. He looked you in the eyes when he told you his favorite memories from set. You watched his hands move around as he explained the impact that acting out such a tumultuous time period had on his personal and professional life. In the lulls in between conversation, when he paused to sip his lager, your eyes met each others. It was by far one of the more enjoyable nights of your career. He was easy to listen to and very lovely to look at.

When the clock struck midnight, and your notebook was filled with more information than you'd even consider finalizing, the night ended. With smiles and genuine thanks, you parted from the grotty Vegas bar. But as you made your way through the casino, you turned back to see George lingering near the elevators, watching you disappear into the crowd.

___

Up in your luxurious room, too nice for someone to stay in all alone, you checked your phone. You had a flight to catch in the morning, travel that would put you home right in time for the weekend.

But a dark email loomed at the top of your notification bar. Your flight had been delayed due to weather, a wicked snow storm had taken residence in New York. Seriously, this late in February? The airline had given you a limited few options for later flights, and you slumped on the downy hotel bed, booking the soonest flight out of this trashy city.

Looked like you'd be spending another day hanging around the hotel that felt more like a small city of its own. Luckily, you had something, rather; someone to write that would keep you pleasantly distracted.

___

Last nights silky was totally worth sporting in front of your modern-day movie star crush, but you were glad to be more comfortable this morning. After a long scalding shower, you slipped into reasonable leggings and an old band shirt that was a few sizes too large. This could pass as sporty, right? With thoughts of fashion draining from your head, you grabbed your laptop and started a lazy shuffle toward the lobby of the hotel.

You usually wrote in coffee shops, back home, but the lobby swarmed with tourists was a little too hectic for your liking. Luckily, you wandered to the opposite wing of the lodge and found a relatively cozy nook outside of a casino. It was too early for the swarm of gamblers to distract you with drunken cheers, but the stead buzz of well-groomed patrons coming and going from the bar was white noise music to your ears.

You nestled into a chaise lounge chair by a window and ignored everything besides your laptop screen. There was nothing that could stop you from spending a little too long scrolling through George's fan tag on Instagram. When you finally started to outline the story based on his interview, you were one hundred words from your limit of one thousand, and you still hadn't said everything you wanted. You could have gushed over his polite and charming nature long enough to take up every page of the magazine you worked for.

But you reigned yourself in, reworded for a while, and started to finalize the article when a passer-by disrupted your work for the first time in a couple of hours.

"Is that about me?" It was him.

"Oh my God." You laughed, clutching onto your laptop like an instinct. You were shocked to see George again; dressed in a fine-looking sweater that made your heart buzz with a silly warmth. You cursed your leggings and wondered why you were stupid enough to wear your old thrift store Bowie tshirt in public.

"Can I read it?" George grew a wicked grin, moving to sit at the foot of the chaise you occupied. You scrambled to straighten your poster as your heart speed up in search of an excuse. You really shouldn't let him do that- but you couldn't say no to his sweet face, especially when he was smiling right at you.

"Uh..." You glanced between George and the laptop you'd been staring at for far too long. You realized that you were one spell check away from sending the damn thing in. You pressed the spellcheck button in a flash, so you wouldn't have to lie. But no errors were found, and you were left with zero choice.

"Just know I shouldn't be doing this." You warned, scooting your laptop away with a cringe. George, in all his charm, waggled his brow at you as he leaned in a little closer to read your story. You held your breath at his silly expression and ceased to breathe the entire time his eyes locked onto your laptop screen.

"This..." George spoke up after a very scary bout of silence. He shook his head as his eyes scanned the page on your laptop, and you felt your heart begin to stall.

"You actually, like... listened to what I had to say," George smirked in unmistakable disbelief. "It's so much more than a Q&A. You drew conclusions and made our conversation into a story. It's perfect." George glanced up to you for the first time in a while, and his eyes were searing into yours.

"Geez," You chuckled nervously, digging your nails into the stitching on the cushion below you. "Thank you, George. I never really get feedback like that from anyone I write for." You realized. Sure, you're articles we're promoted by the people featured in them, but they hardly ever had a direct comment on your work.

"When is it coming out?" George wondered, leaning on his elbow, looking up toward you. You leaned toward the laptop that was the barrier between you and the pretty man, but were closer to him than ever before.

"I just have to change the font..." You noted, pressing buttons as you spoke. "open my email..." George's eyes eventually flickered from your face back to your screen. "and send it in."

"Would you like to do the honors?" You grinned, moving the cursor over the send button on the screen. George gazed back to you with a hearty chuckle but didn't waste much more time before clicking the send button for you.

"And now we wait." You shrugged, wrapping your arms around your waist as the handsome man smiled your way. Oh if you'd only put on a little lipstick...

"How should we pass the time, then?" George wondered in a curious lilt. "Oh, let's go drink one of those thirty-four-ounce margaritas to celebrate. It's the perfect occasion to day drink." Was he kidding? Because you weren't entirely sure if you were being punk'd or not, you tried to hide your wide-eyed reaction as you responded.

"I'm hardly dressed for the occasion." You grinned, shutting your laptop.

"If it's any consolation, that bar is empty right now, besides there's a lady asleep in the back in her clothes from last night." George pointed across the way. There we're people flooding the casino and taking their drinks to gamble. There was no way you were about to pass up this opportunity.

In the blink of an eye, you were sitting at a bar top, turned toward each other to share a ridiculously overpriced thirty-four-ounce strawberry margarita out of honest to God silly straws.

"This should actually be illegal."

"Do you remember the prohibition, George?" You laughed, watching the blended ice travel through the purple looped straw as you sipped.

"Of course not." George laughed incredulously. "Just because I lived through the war doesn't mean I'm that old."

"Ha ha." You mused, wondering why it was so easy to be around George. You'd just met him, but from the moment he opened his mouth, it was like you'd been chatting together for years. It was like he saw past the questions you were being paid to ask, and heard you asking them. Maybe just because you really did want to know his answers.

"I want to know what you've lived through," George demanded, taking a turn to drink out his straw from the margarita you'd been sharing. He'd been asking questions like that since you'd met him, and your chest blossomed with nerves as he peered up at you through his lashes. In your nervous scramble to give George an answer, your brain settled on a story about the first time you met Will Smith.

"Wait, wait, wait." George broke away from his green silly straw and held a dismissive hand out in front of you.

"We're off the record now, y/l/n. I want to know the real shit! Ya know, the last time you cried. Your Chipoltle order." George was waving his hands as if his questions were obvious. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back and relishing the moment you realized how lucky you were to be living in this moment.

So you reluctantly told him some things. You couldn't justify giving your best details away, but you liked the idea of a stranger knowing you the worst thing you did in second grade, and a silly trademark your family coined. George kept his brilliant gaze set on you, and you could almost see your own stories coming to life in his eyes. He was actually listening to you.

The focus on you was becoming a bit too overwhelming, so you shifted to ask George a few more questions, tipsy enough to pry for a few of the same antidotes George had asked you for. After laughing over a few fun facts about his hometown and the time he ran away from his mum in the supermarket, you both settled into silence. You were busy trying to compute how wild this afternoon had turned.

"How long are you staying?" He asked after a beat. When he caught your attention, you realized he'd never lost it and you'd been staring at him like you longed to do last night.

"Oh uh-"

"I was gifted tickets to one of those Cirque shows and my friend's flights got canceled.. So... I thought maybe... you'd wanna..."

"I... sure." You sit up straight, trying to bite back the cheesy grin on your face. You weren't sure how you ended up here in Vegas, sharing a drink with a stunning boy, but you thanked your lucky stars as George went one telling you the details he'd roped you into tonight.

___

The storm in New York had only gotten worse, as you scrolled through updates on your cities local website. Your flight was supposed to take off tomorrow morning, but the storm hadn't let up since the last flight got canceled. You decided now wasn't the time to worry, and went about tearing through your suitcase praying you'd find something nice enough to wear.

You exchanged room numbers, agreeing to meet up at George's tonight. You had more than enough time to get ready but still scrambled to present yourself as perfectly as possible. Agreeing to a night out with George was as lucky as you'd ever been.

After shimmying into a pretty outfit and fixing your makeup just right, your phone buzzed with a notification. Your editor had sent you the final edit of the story you'd written for George, praising you for a job well done. You couldn't help but giggled as you skipped down the hall on the way to George's room, three stories higher.

"Hello, love! You look wonderful." George smiled wide as he opened the door, gesturing for you to come in. His single room was much like yours, a living area and kitchen big enough to house a family, and a bedroom off down the hall. Vegas confounded you.

You rested your room key on a desk near the door and watched George slide into a sharp blue jacket, bringing out the shine of his matching eyes. God, how did he get better looking by the minute?

He escorted you from his suite with a coy grin as if your outing was scandalous.

"Your interview should be published next week. My editor loves it." You informed, walking in step with George to the elevators.

"Of course they do, you're an incredible writer." George pulled a face as if this were a fact everyone knew. You pushed the elevator button with a roll of your eyes, unsure how to handle his outlandish flattery.

"All because of the answers you gave me. You're an incredible subject." You fawned, feeling brave enough to in one fleeting moment.

"Then we make the perfect pair," George smirked at you, keeping his eyes on yours as you passed into the elevator doors. Your legs must have figured out how to move on their own because you felt a bit stunned still by the look in George's eye after his soft comment.

The Cirque show was just across the street in another hotel. But because Vegas was insane, it took you a solid fifteen minutes to cross between traffic and a packed hotel lobby to get to the venue inside. By the time you and George settled into your seats, you felt all too unworthy of what was happening.

"Thanks again for bringing me along. I don't know how I got so lucky." You huffed a nervous laugh, trying not to openly swoon over how close you were to the boy. His leg was just barely far enough away from brushing against yours, and you were meant to sit there like it was totally cool for the next hour.

"Trust me, I'm the lucky one." George nodded, turning his head toward the stage as the lights went dim. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and during the first few minutes of the show, all you could truly focus on was how close George was to you. You felt like a schoolgirl on her first date, and reprimanded yourself for letting your feelings get this way.

But halfway through the show, something astounding happened. It was more thrilling than all the acrobatics and dance numbers happening on stage before you. George let his fingers bloom across your palm before they fit perfectly between yours. He sat holding your hand with his eyes fixed on the show, while you tried to keep from melting off the seat into a puddle.

The show ended and you walked out of the theater together, quietly flooding out into the street that was somehow busier than before.

"Thanks for that. I've only been to Vegas for work and have never had time to do the cheesy trashy fun bits."

"Me either." George looked to you and you could tell he was brewing some idea behind his sparkling eyes. Just then, his full name was called out from somewhere beyond your shared gaze. That's when you realized you were still holding his hand. You took a step back, untangling your fingers when you realized a group of drunk college students were excitedly asking for George's photo. You watched from a few steps away and swallowed the silly blooming crush you couldn't shake. What happens in Vegas stayed, right? Maybe you were both just blinded by the ancient ideal.

But when the fans disbanded, George didn't waste a beat slipping his hand back into your grasp.

"Let's go have some fun." He waggled his brow the same as he had hours ago, smirking all the while.

You proceeded to drink and laugh and gamble and dance into the early morning. Your evening became a blur of flashing neon lights and booming bass notes. Even in your alcohol-fueled daze, you fully felt George's fingers linger on your shoulder as he led you to and from the dance floor. His touch was warm and steady and the only thing that made sense in the night full of fast-paced fun you had no time to process.

On the walk back to the hotel, reality threatened to seep in as your feet burned in your heels. When you realized you left your room key in George's room, you felt no shame in taking your heels off and walking the hotel carpet with a little more ease. "I'm all for a movie night in but that was so much fun."

"Me too. Let's have a movie night next." George grinned, wasted as you were.

"Yes!" You fawned in exhausted excitment.

He led you into his room where your room key sat waiting where you'd left it. But the thought of walking one more step made you want to cry. So you asked if George minded if you sat for a moment; settling on the tiny loveseat giving your feet a break and talking yourself into the last bit of walking toward your room.

Yeah, big mistake. Before you knew it, you were totally passed out there and slept soundly on the sofa in a room that wasn't yours. When you woke up and noticed your shoe's near George's by the door you felt so embarrassed for having crashed like that, your weak hangover trumped by shame.

"Shit." You mutter, quietly moving to sneak toward the door. Your cellphone rested on the counter next to your room key. But as you reach for your things, you hear George shuffle into the room. He's dressed for a new day in a plain button-up and suit jacket.

"Oof, I'm really sorry for falling asleep." You cringed, grabbing your room key, a little afraid to look right in George's eye.

"It's alright really." He nodded. "It was so late, I don't know how you slept on that little thing. But I didn't want to move you and make it weird." George kind of grimaced, hoping his comment wasn't as equally unwelcome as he seemed to think the action might have been. "I'm sorry you don't have to leave just yet."

"I have a flight, actually." You frowned suddenly, wishing you didn't have to leave this place you hated a day ago. But as you unlocked your phone to make sure you weren't too late, there we're a slew of emails from your flight agency, canceling your morning commute again.

"And now I don't have a flight."

George's phone seemed to buzz to life at the same moment, it was a new day after all. He glanced at his notifications frowning the same as you just had.

"Well I was going to invite you to breakfast but I've got another meeting added to my list of a ridiculous amount of things to do today." George sighed.

You knew the fun would have to come to an end sooner rather than later, he was a busy guy, an increasingly important, beautiful, busy guy. And you were stuck in Vegas all over again, without much to keep you occupied from how much you'd grown to love it here, just a little.

"Maybe we can have that movie night if I get back early enough." George smiled, leaning over to retrieve his shoes from the doormat. You couldn't believe George had remembered your off the cuff remark from early this morning, but somehow his comment felt more like a raincheck, than an invite. And whether you were hungover or paranoid, you couldn't tell.

So you took the cue to gather your things, opting to carry your shoes and stood in the doorway.

"You know where to find me, then." You offered, too afraid of agreeing right off and seeming too desperate to spend more time with him. You wished George good luck with all his movie star duties for the day and sulked on the long walk back to your shitty matching room.

___

Your day was spent ordering room service, exhausted by the idea of going back out and about in all the madness that made up Vegas. You scrolled through a measly list of flights to take, opting to stay another night and hoping the storm would pass soon. Soon, the sun was setting and after a long bubble bath, you slipped into your favorite pair of pj's, planning to listen to some podcasts to make the most of this evening. But just as you finished cleaning up, a knock came at your door. You hadn't ordered more room service, and there was a sign dangling from your door handle warning away the maids.

You were surprised to find George on the other side of your door, looking happy to see you. You honestly hadn't expected to see him again, you thought your luck had run its course. And you spent the whole day trying not to reminisce over the way you'd grown more comfortable near each other as the night went on.

You greeted him with a smile, comfortable enough in your pj's when you noticed he was wearing joggers now, too.

"You shed the suit?" You laughed.

"I figured if we're having a movie night I better dress for the occasion," George smirked. You hung your head to hide your blush and opened the door wider for him to come in all the way.

Okay, so maybe you had failed to plan this far ahead, but you hardly cared what happened next. You and George floated to the sofa in front of the television, and he reached for the remote.

“Have you memorized the tv guide yet?” George prodded as you sat next to him, leaving a sliver of space for good measure.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been far too busy running around the city this weekend.” You smiled, turning your gaze toward the television, too skittish to meet George’s baby blue eyes this close up.

He clicked his tongue as if to say “what a shame” all while flipping through channels. He landed on Hallmark, tossing the remote down ceremoniously. You couldn’t help but laugh as the movie seemed to just begin.

“Is that Betty White?” You chuckled.

“You’re welcome.” George boasted over getting lucky finding this film queued up perfectly for the two of you on this spontaneous night. You spent a little bit laughing over the cheesy musical flares and dramatics that made up every great Hallmark film, this one included. But as the film played on, you couldn’t help but notice the bits of genuinely good storytelling peeking through.

George kept you laughing throughout the film, but near the end, both of you got quiet and watched in silence until the credits rolled.

“Damn. That was actually just a little bit good.” George spoke up, a little quiet. That’s when you noticed how close he’d gotten to you. The sliver of space you’d left at the beginning of the movie was now barely noticeable.

“Yeah.” You laughed, amazed by more than just the film. “This whole weekend has been surprisingly wonderful.” You spoke softly, daring to glance right at George, who had already fixed his eyes on you.

You couldn't tell who made the first move but the next thing you know, you're kissing him. You and George took turns sharing feather-light pecks, each of you chasing each other kiss after one ended. George was definitely the first to place both strong hands around the back of your head and kiss you like he meant it. You were nearly too stunned to kiss him back, but once you started the floodgates broke off their hinges and there was no turning back. You climbed into his lap and latched on for all it was worth because surely this was a dream and you weren't ready to wake up at all.

You savored the steady build of his fingers trailing down your arms while your kisses grew deeper, mouths pushing against each others like you’d been doing this for ages. Your hands had a mind of their own, creeping softly under the hem of George’s soft tshirt to his hot skin below.

"Hey," George gently broke your kiss and cupped your face in both hands. You practically held your breath as his shimmering eyes searched yours. "You okay with this?" George seemed to genuinely wonder. His voice was dripping with lust and his body was warm underneath yours. It didn't take a detective to read George like a book, but he still had the self-control and gentle heart to make sure you were comfortable. It only made you want him more. But you were still far too shy to say so, no matter your actions. So you bit your lip and hummed in sweet agreeance, wrapping your hands around George’s neck.

You watched George’s face stretch into a smile before he ducked his head to the crook of your neck where he let out a contented sigh before grazing his teeth along your skin. You squealed with delight when he swiftly pinned you down on the sofa to playfully pepper your face with kisses like something less heated was taking place.

"You know, now would be the perfect time to carry me from the couch to your bed." You rose an encouraging brow, reminding George of just this morning when he was too afraid of disturbing your sleep on his sofa that matched this one. George let out a laugh as he peeled himself off the top of you and picked you up bridal style in his impressively buff arms.

"Right this way, madame." George teased, carrying you through his bedroom door.

You had thrown the covers into place the best you could the last time you woke up here. George rested you gently on the bed, much like you were sleeping and he was afraid of waking you up. But your heart was beating fast enough to win a race, somehow increasing when George rested beside you, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“You’re very pretty, you know?” George blinked, whispering to you.

“I’m glad you think so.” You spoke back even quieter, reaching out to touch his face. He was so handsome it nearly stopped your heart. George leaned in for another kiss, this one slow and steady. You hadn’t felt so content in ages, you could have laid there kissing George forever and been happy. But then his fingers trailed down your side to grab your hip, and you swore you saw stars. George pulled your leg over his and now you were pressed against one another, kisses growing deeper still.

“This alright?” He asked almost timidly, as his fingers crept below your nightshirt.

“Yeah,” You breathed as George moved his kisses down your neck, and his hand to your chest. Your fingers splayed through his hair as he reached around your back to find the clasp on your bralette

“It’s in the front.” You giggled, feeling George smile against your skin.

“Very cute.” He hummed in your ear before kissing your jaw and finding the button. He shoved your shirt most of the way off, and you had to move out from under him to remove it all the way. Before settling back against the pillows, you pulled off George’s shirt so you could revel in the warmth of his skin.

You settled in his lap, each knee on either side of his hips throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him again, somehow still enjoying each brush of his tongue against yours like it was the first time. George signed into your mouth, each pleasant groan traveling straight down your spine. You rolled your hips against his, and George’s groans grew darker.

His fingers were lost in your hair and you found a steady pace to rock against him, drawing out longer whimpers from his lips with each new movement. Soon, his hand toyed with the drawstring of your shorts and he had to break away from your kiss to ask if he could take them off you could only muster an encourageable nod as your breath got caught in your throat. George laid you back, keeping those stunning blue eyes locked on yours all the while, only breaking away when he slid the last of your layers off. His fingers slid slowly between your legs as he laid next to you, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty. How’d I get so lucky?” George spoke, you could feel his breath ghost across your lips while he went on building up the tension in your stomach. It didn’t take long for you to fill with fire, a contradictory chill shooting through your system. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“George,” You sighed, opening your eyes to look at him again, “need you.”

You watched his eyes go dark as he slowly moved away from you, slipping his joggers off and slotting himself between your legs.

“You’re sure?” He asked one final time.

“Please.” You groaned, placing your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself. With one last kiss on your lips, the Disney prince type, he pushed into you. If you thought the noises George had made before were beautiful, the ones he was making now could’ve moved you to tears. He found your hand and held it with one of his while the other slipped below your belly button.

Your heavy sighs and desperate moans synced up and you rode your highs on the edge of one another. George didn’t move off the top of you right away, instead, he stayed there with his face buried in your hair soaking up the quiet moment.

“That was wonderful, love.” George whispered in your ear as he fell to your side. You turned to face him, biting back a yawn.

“You’re wonderful.” You sleepily smiled. George pulled you against him then, and you rested your hand on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. The steady rhythm puts you to sleep in no time.

___

The next morning came late, and the Vegas sun shone brightly through the space between the curtains you forgot to close.

George was still by your side, but you’d drifted apart in the night. So upon noticing his eyes were open and glued on you, you felt no shame curling up next to his side.

"This has been the longest one night stand of my life." You sighed dramatically, comfily resting your head on his broad shoulder. George was quiet for a beat and you were a bit worried you’d upset him. But then he spoke up, with a gentle voice saturated in sleep.

"Wanna see how long we can last? I don’t think I wanna stop waking up to you."

How could you say no? You’d spent the whole weekend saying yes to George, and look where it had gotten you. So you agreed to stay one more night in Vegas, hoping what happened there would last a lifetime.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine

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august-writing · 3 years

Text

@hero-of-dork

Okay time to meta read. I'll do this scene:

I also don't know if this is gonna be true meta reading oof sorry if it's annoying oh man this is long oof...

Aithus squinting ahead at his comrade crouched further away from him in the long grass. He was a dismal sight with his drenched hat dripping streams of water.

Aithus is being just babey, has no idea what he's doing. Edmund is regretting this. He is so unhappy. Imagine a wet cat in the rain. Like the long fur type. That's him. But he's trying to pay attention and do this thing, cuz this kid is gonna die if he doesn't .

His comrade, Edmund, frowned at him and shook his head. He lowered his voice as he replied,

Aithus was a bit too loud, so Ed gave him a look lol.

"There's a watergate off in that direction, I believe," he threw Aithus a critical glance before continuing on. "we might be able to fit through, probably not the most comfy."

He isn't actually planning with him, he's just talking outloud. And has like, so little faith in Aithus's skills xD

"Oh, sure. Or we just move it out of the way. No big deal." Edmund wiped a stream of water coming down his hat off.

Slips into professional mode here, and his hat is paying a high price :(

"Move it?"

Edmund gave him a knowing smile as he rose from his position. He began making his way towards the gate as Aithus tagged along behind.

Aithus being baby again, and Edmund realizing he doesn't know how to do this xD professional Ed activated.

Who knew a bard could be this quiet.

I honestly just loved this line. It was funny, captured Aithus's thoughts. Edmund is a loud person, he sings a lot, talks a lot. You wouldn't expect him to be good at this.

After what felt like ages of tense lookout there was a gentle tug on his cloak and he turned to see Edmund gesturing silently to the gate.

Oho, Aithus the lookout just got snuck up on by the bard. Hmm I wonder what this means :)

Aithus did his best to catch up with him, but he quickly found that wading through water wasn't the easiest task to accomplish silently.

Once more he be inexperienced babey.

"We'll follow this waterway till we hit something we think might be our exit. Since neither of us have been in here, and don't know where we're going we're going to have to wing it." His quiet voice dimly echoed off the stone wall of the alcove. "Stay close around me, okay?" Edmund looked down at Aithus, his face firm and calm. "You don't know what you're doing so you might get lost."

Aithus nodded.

I find this scene extremely fun because Edmund is in charge, he's making the plans and leading it. Aithus doesn't realize this. He's going along with it all and following his directions, but he thinks of it like "the bard is following along". But nope, Ed is totally in charge here and is keeping an eye out for this little kid who can't do any of this xD

Edmund turned back to the opening of the gate and smacked the draping cloth of his hat back over his shoulder. He muttered something to himself about "should have left it behind" before ducking through the gate.

Too late to go back and put his hat somewhere so he's fussy about having to lug his fancy hat around during a heist

He held out his hand in anticipation, and Aithus handed over the blade. Using the tip he gently lifted it up before carefully placing it down again. Flipping the blade into a backhanded hold Edmund crossed his arms gazing thoughtfully down at the water.

Oho this bard sure is comfortable with this knife hmm. im sorry I'm teasing you guys, but im just :)))

"What's the problem, what are you thinking about?" Aithus glanced nervously from the lid to the darkly lit face of his companion.

"Nothing…" Edmund dismissively assured the lad with a shake of his hand. "Well," he turned to look at him, squinting in the gloom, "can you pick a lock?"

Aithus like a worried kid trying to be in charge is nosy. He can tell something is up that Ed isn't sharing and he's uncomfortable. Ed just doubting his young friend again :( trying to problem solve

Edmund threw him helpful comments and grunts of disgust when his blade scraped wrong against the metal and jarred his senses.

Aithus doesn't know what he's doing...and Ed is tired and wet and cold and wishes he could just do it instead of being tortured like this :(

"Okay, okay, that's enough." Edmund's voice cut louder than it had through their whole mission. He shifted his weight and Aithus bobbed along with him from his perch. "Give it a good solid push with your shoulder; but gently."

Ed is now done with this ear pain smh. Also giving confusing directions like the weirdo he is

He heard Edmund mutter to him to take his time and be cautious. The bard was right, if he made too loud of a racket getting this open they'd have the whole guard running on them.

Aithus just babey like :0 oh he's right wow. Has no idea smh

"Okay, you take to the left there and follow that light. You can probably find the records there and get the information that we need." Edmund bent down and whispered to Aithus, adding emphasis with his gestures.

"Wait, you're going with me." Aithus interrupted with a judgmental squint.

Aithus suddenly realizing that he was supposed to be in charge and not Ed xD

Aithus grimaced and darted a worried glance about. "No, no, bad idea."

"Don't worry, you got this. You're a sneaky little lad."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

And now we have Aithus who has no faith in the bard and thinks he'll get lost, and Ed who thinks the boy is scared :(

Edmund's eyebrows went up. "Oh, well okay then. I suppose I'll just follow you?"

"Isn't that your job?" He said bluntly and unamused, an eyebrow raised at him.

ED YOU GOT ROASTED. That's what you get for acting like an idiot u-u

Edmund took a breath in.

Irritated with this kid ugh :/

Aithus frowned up at him. "Alright, just, be quiet."

Edmund gave him a half smile and shrugged before slipping into the shadows, leaving Aithus behind standing there startled.

Aithus sounds like some soft of half convinced parent and,,, that's totally accurate xD And Ed is just showing off smh

Okay I'm done. Sorry this was so long and rambly and like???? Wasn't very oof idk hope it was fun at least!

#text #answer #aithus #edmund #throg #long post

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verobatto · 5 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

(Vol. VII)

It was a love story, from the very beginning.

(4x22)

You have to stop it.

We have to stop it.

Hello my dear Fandom!! How are you feeling?

Ok, this is the last volume from season 4!!!!

In this one, I will talk about 4x22 LUCIFER RISING. And how our beautiful angel fell for follow his heart.

Thanks to my friend @agusvedder for the gifs you will find in this meta!

Let's start.

I'm sorry again.

Dean and Sam were separated, after a very heated fight. Dean was so worried, and he didn't know if he should call his brother or not. Bobby felt he needed to convince Dean... then... He appeared in the green room.

There was Zachariah and Castiel again in the background. Obedient. Silent.

ZACHARIAH: Lilith has to break it. She's the only one who can. Tomorrow night -- midnight.

DEAN: Where?

ZACHARIAH: We're working on it.

DEAN: Well, work harder.

ZACHARIAH: we'll do our job. You just make sure you do yours.

DEAN: Yeah, and what is that, exactly? If I'm supposed to be the one that stops her, how? With the knife?

ZACHARIAH: All in good time.

DEAN: Isn't now a good time?

ZACHARIAH: Have faith.

DEAN: What, in you? Give me one good reason why I should.

Here... Dean having faith was something new. But he didn't have faith in these manipulative angels, these heartless robots with a fancy deathly mission. He had learn to have faith in Cas. But now... Listening to Zachariah repeating the what Dean had swore in the middle of desperate situation... He remembered who made him say it...

... and Can knows too. It was him. He swore that time, because Castiel's manipulation learned in Heaven. And he feels guilty. Friends doesn't do that... But... Are they even friends?

The second time Castiel and Dean saw each other in the green room, was when Dean did this symbolic call...

Dean makes an angel fall LITERALLY, and immediately after that, look who appears behind him. You can't be subtle with this scene, they are showing us that DEAN MADE CASTIEL FALL, LITERALLY FALL, FOR HIM. But in the fall... The angel breaks... And that's the thing that will occur with CAS.

The third time Castiel appears is when Dean was trying to communicate with Sammy, using his cell phone... Cas went to him... To make a kind of apology... Parallel with that scene in 14x19 when Dean was praying and he appeared at the instant.

DEAN What are you gonna do to Sam?

CASTIEL: Nothing. He's gonna do it to himself.

DEAN: What's that supposed to mean?

(CASTIEL looks down)

Oh, right, right. Got to toe the company line. Why are you here, Cas?

CASTIEL We've been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it ended like this.

DEAN "Sorry"?

Castiel wanted to talk with Dean, even knowing they were watching. He knew there was something between them. Maybe friendship? Camaraderie? He didn't know what name use for this... And he was saying I'M SORRY AGAIN. Maybe not knowing why. He even had said that to Anna. And she had said to him he didn't sorry. Because he couldn't feel. Well... Now it was different... It really was...

Seeing through you

Castiel could feel in the air Dean was trying to drag him to him. And his words were intoxicating for the angel's heart. That rebellious way to find your own path. Free will. So bright, so forbidden.

CASTIEL Try to understand -- this is long foretold. This is your...

DEAN Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn?

And there it was again. Castiel trying to resist it and Dean fighting against orders. He could understand what Dean was saying... He knew it. It was his doubts talking again to him.

Why is Castiel saying this?? Is he seeing through Dean? Certainly he is. But... He needed to invalidate what Dean was trying to show him. He needed to low down all that Bright Lights coming from this man. He was offering something forbidden and dangerous. Free Will, rebellion. No, he couldn't. He needed to stop that. So he used this. Those hard words to make this human to shut up. To make him understand something not even he, an angel, believe. But he was a soldier. He had to obey. So yes. There's nothing there worth to be saved.

And Dean, he knows all those words are true, he knows it. And he is loosing hopes, but he keeps fighting, he knows Castiel is the only one there who can help him... He helped him once... He knows it... He feels Castiel is different...

CASTIEL: In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam.

Here... Castiel look to a side... Because he knows that's a lie. He is lying. And lying to himself too...

So Dean looks for Castiel gaze again... He needed to look at him in the eye. Beacuse these two talk with their eyes. Since they first met. And Dean was honest here...

DEAN: You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier.

He turned Castiel around brusquely. HE WANTED MAKE CASTIEL SEE THE REALITY. TURN HIM BY HIS SIDE. He needed him to see. NOT MORE CRAP ABOUT TO BEING A GOOD SOLDIER.

Why you didn't help me???? Dean was pushing him again, pushing him to that dangerous path, to get close again to him.

DEAN: You know it! You were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were gonna warn me about all this, before they dragged you back to Bible camp. Help me -- now. Please.

CASTIEL: What would you have me do?

He is doubting again... This human... This man...

DEAN: Get me to Sam. We can stop this before it's too late.

CASTIEL: I do that, we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed.

Castiel knows the consequences, he has a lot to lose. A lot.

DEAN: If there is anything worth dying for... this is it.

Gif credit @magnificent-winged-beast

Look at this... At Castiel's face... The doubt... The fight inside him. The whirlwind in his mind. He can lose everything, he will fall if he follows this man. Is the most important moment in his life. Thai decision would change everything... And he can't do that. He just can't...

DEAN: You spineless...

(DEAN turns and walks away)

…soulless son of a bitch. What do you care about dying? You're already dead. We're done.

CASTIEL: Dean...

Castiel is in pain... Because he had disappointed Dean. But he is asking a lot from him.

DEAN: We're done!

And Castiel flew away.

The intensity of this scene is huge. And Castiel's inner fight, so painful and hard. Dean was pushing him as always... Castiel knew Dean was right... He just needed to make the hardest decision in his ancient life...

We have to stop it

Then... Suddenly...

Castiel decided, he chose free will, he chose to die for humans, to die for the Winchester. To die for Dean.

And the huge amount of sexual tension in this scene is irresistible.

Dean is aroused. Look at his face, he is amazed, he is afraid, but at the same time... He is enchanted again. He can't with himself and he drops his eyes to Castiel's lips... Yeah... Sexually aroused. The power coming from Castiel, is too much to handle. And he is helping him??? He understands the sign Cas makes him with his eyes. Yes. He is helping him. He chose him.

Dean watches in awe how Castiel draws on the wall a sigil with his own blood. So quickly, the hunter couldn't even react. Then Zachariah arrives and Castiel send him to somewhere...

And remember 4x03 the time traveling? When Cas repeated at him once and once and again YOU HAVE TO STOP IT.

And then again in 4x21 Cas said again: YOU WILL STOP HIM.

And now In this episode 4x22 Zachariah said to him YOU WILL STOP HIM.

It was always DEAN, AND JUST DEAN, THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STOP WHEREVER TAHT IS? DEMON? LUCIFER? Well... He isn't alone anymore...

Now is a WE. WE HAVE TO STOP HIM. YOU AND ME. THE TWO OF US. From that moment on, Dean wouldn't be alone anymore, the WINCHESTERS won a loyal Ally.

And Dean maybe isn't so conscious about what had he done... He made an angel fell for him. For his insistence. For showing him the brightness of free will.

I thin the amazement for Dean about this angel haven't finished yet... Because when they arrived to Chuck's place... This is what happened...

CHUCK: Yeah, but you guys aren't supposed to be there. You're not in this story.

CASTIEL: Yeah, well...

Look at Dean's face... He is surprised beacuse Castiel's words. And he feels admiration for him. He sacrifice everything for them. And that's priceless for Dean.

Then he made another sacrifice when the Archangel arrives...

CASTIEL: It's the Archangel!

(to DEAN)

I'll hold him off! I'll hold them all off! Just stop Sam!

Yes he gave his own life...

"If there is anything worth dying for... this is it."

Dean words stayed in Castiel's heart for ever.

To conclude.

Castiel's fall with his prelude in early episode, had a intense resolution.

Dean persistence and heart speech helped Castiel to chose him and humanity over his own family.

The communication between Dean and Cas had always been his eyes... And @agusvedder wanted to share with you this observation, and that would explain the amount of gazes between Dean and Cas... The eyes are the mirrors from the souls. And Destiel was always about that. About watching at each other's hearts and souls with their eyes.

From this moment on, Castiel become the Winchesters's angel. He took a new mission. And he will show to these two men his loyalty is gold.

Thanks for read this meta, I c-u soon in the next volume starting season 5!!

C-u!! 😘💕💕

Tagging @metafest @gneisscastiel @mrsaquaman187 @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @agusvedder @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @castiellover20 @whyjm @koshisekisen @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @cheerstofandomfamily @drsilverfish @savannadarkbaby @angelneedshunter @trickster-archangel @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @mishka-the-angel-of-saturday @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @hippyatheart80 @xsghn @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia

Note: if you want to be tagged in the Destiel Chronicles tag list just let me know!

If you want to read the previous volumes, the links are here:

Vol. I/Vol. II/Vol. III/Vol. IV/Vol. V/Vol. VI

Buenos Aires April 16th 2019 9:19 PM

#supernatural meta #destiel meta #destiel chronicles #volume vii #season 4 meta

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