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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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The Madness Within {Elriel}

Another piece written alongside the beautiful and talented @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

There were nights Azriel would fall so deeply into his own mind, Elain struggled to bring him back. After a particular taxing interrogation or an exhausting mission, when he’d come home and there would still be blood under his fingernails, she knew that he didn’t truly belong to her in that moment. She’d have to appeal to the creature that he was, the creature that lived in the shadows, before her gentle male returned.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Elain had been lying awake in bed, the starlight of the Velaris night sky pouring into their bedroom through the thin curtains, when Azriel landed on the balcony outside.

Once he landed, he didn’t move. He stayed in his crouch, examining his trembling hands.

He probably thought Elain was asleep, and she didn’t want to move, didn’t want him to know that she was watching.

It wasn’t until minutes passed that he rose and slowly, quietly, opened the door of the balcony and slowly, quietly closed it behind him.

He unhooked Truthteller and tossed it at the feet of Elain’s floral chair in the corner. He unhooked his armor and shrugged it off, then the tunic beneath. He turned his back to her and peered out the window. His wings drooped.

He was still for a moment before reaching down to unlace his boots, then kicking them off.

Then, he froze. Catching his hands, once again, in the starlight.

He examined them with such pain, such loathing, such utter hatred that made Elain’s eyes grow blurry.

Elain made a small show of turning over in bed, hoping he’d snap out of his haze, but knowing he probably wouldn’t even register that she’d moved.

He didn’t even flinch.

She sat up and quietly called to him, “Az, baby, come to bed.”

He acted as if he hadn’t even heard her.

“Baby?” She tossed back the blankets and crawled off of the bed. She walked over to where he was staring at his scarred hands in the moonlight.

“Azriel,” she breathed, worry coating her tone. She stood right next to him, yet he was frozen in place, not even acknowledging her presence. She carefully took one of his hands in her own.

His eyes - black as death in the shadows - snapped to hers and he gripped her wrist.

He slowly, carefully, removed her hand from his and turned his back to her. He walked into the washroom and ran water from the faucet. Elain followed and hovered in the doorway, seeing him clearer in the faelight.

Dried crimson covered his cheek, was matted in his hair. Elain followed his gaze down to his hands, covered in a stranger’s blood.

His hands shook, uncontrollably, but Elain couldn’t move. It never got easier, seeing him in such a state. Especially when she couldn’t help. She was so helpless.

She knew he remained stoic, remained strong until he landed on their balcony moments before.

Very few people knew just how much the Shadowsinger felt.

He felt more than most.

He felt it all.

Without acknowledging Elain’s presence, Azriel put his trembling hands beneath the running water. He scrubbed and scrubbed until the water turned pink, then clear again. Even then, he kept scrubbing as if the memory of the evening would go down the drain alongside the blood.

He scrubbed, and he scrubbed, until his scarred skin turned pink.

Elain cautiously stepped up beside him and turned the faucet off. “They’re clean.”

Still he kept scrubbing.

She took his hands in hers, turned him to face her and braced herself. She knew what she had to do, how she had to act to return him to himself.

“Azriel,” she whispered and he glanced at her, finally giving her attention. “They’re clean.”

He looked at his hands, blinking a few times. Elain let him go and wet a rag with warm water. “Can you go sit on the edge of the bath, please? You’ve got blood on your face.” He looked at her, panic shining in his eyes, mercifully hazel in the dim light of the bathroom. “I’ll get it off, I’m going to get it,” she cooed, carefully running a hand down his bare back, between his wings, trying to soothe him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He only shook his head and moved to the bath as he was told.

She re-soaked the rag and tilted his face up to look at her. “Are you sure you’re-?”

“I said I was fine.”

Short. Clipped. A voice like ice.

Elain didn’t let his tone affect her. She simply grabbed his chin in her hand and used her other to wipe the blood off his cheek.

“None of its mine,” he went on, quietly, nearly silently, a second later.

His eyes did not meet hers.

He sounded lifeless.

She used the rag to wipe off his neck, his ear, before guiding him to the cool tile. She didn’t bother ordering him into the bath. She knew he wouldn’t cooperate. But she would clean him up, one step at a time.

Azriel sat on the floor and leaned back against the ivory, porcelain tub. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Elain left the room and came back a moment later with a small, tin pitcher. She filled it with warm water, and rinsed the blood from his hair. She tried her best not to watch the incandescent pink water disappear down the bath’s drain.

“That’s enough,” he whispered, after the third rinse.

“I’m almost do-”

“That’s enough,” he growled.

Elain took a small, deep breath. “Just one more-”

“That’s enough!” he yelled, grabbing the pitcher and throwing it against the mirror above the vanity.

Glass shattered among the tile, within the sink.

Elain didn’t move. She simply watched Azriel’s chest rapidly rise and fall, watched as his face fell into his raw hands.

A silent sob shook his inked shoulders.

Elain remained where she was, standing still next to him, next to the tub. She watched as the Shadowsinger crumbled and a broken, fallen angel took his place.

The first time he came home like this, shortly after they’d moved in together, she didn’t know what to do. He was angry, on edge, and aggressive. He stayed that way for three days.

It took years for her to learn how to wear him down.

Breaking him, that was the part she hated most. Pushing him to the edge, past the carefully built walls and defenses, until he snapped. She hated everything about it.

But she knew if she didn’t, the anger, the hatred, they would fester in his heart until he became something cruel, something dark.

Something he hated.

So she did everything she could to keep him from letting that cruel creature out. Even if it meant he would lash out at her.

She didn’t touch him, didn’t call for him, not until his sobbing subsided. When he grew quiet, Elain sat down next to him, back against the porcelain.

“I tortured a man tonight,” he said, face still in his hands. “I tortured a man for hours until his body could no longer carry the pain I was bearing upon him. I had to, he was a traitor, dangerous to our people, but I...I killed a defenseless man in cold blood. A long, slow, painful death.”

Elain listened, with no interruption.

Azriel dropped his hands onto his lap and looked at the marring that covered them. “I deserve these wretched scars.”

Elain still didn’t speak. She watched as he turned his hands over, observing both sides. Azriel hated his scars, hated the memories they brought back whenever he looked at them, memories from his childhood, nightmares, that could never be erased.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, still looking at his hands, voice still hollow. “I’ll replace the mirror tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about the mirror,” Elain whispered, the first thing she had said in quite some time.

He wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t look at anything other than his hands.

Carefully avoiding the shards of glass, she slid across the floor until she sat in front of him and took one of those scarred hands in both of her own. “Do you know why I love each and every one of the scars on your body?” Elain asked, tracing the first scar that licked up his elbow towards his arm. Azriel just watched, not saying a word. She continued to trace them, one by one, pausing to kiss the end of each fingertip, the palms of each hand. “Because every scar made you into the male I love. Each painful moment strengthened you. Every fight built you up. Every loss taught you humility. And these hands,” she mused, holding them in her own. “I love these the most.” Azriel looked at her like she has gone mad but before he could say anything, she placed one hand on one side of face and one on the other. “With these hands, you show me how much you love me. With these hands, you make me feel good in ways I never thought possible.” His hands slid down her cheeks to her neck then her shoulders, around her back. “Azriel, I would not change one single part of you. I love you, scars and all.”

He pulled her to him, onto his lap. Elain went willingly, knowing the rage was gone, that it was the emptiness she’d have to contend with now.

Azriel let his head fall against her chest and he wept. Elain wrapped her arms around him and held him as the strongest sobs she’d ever witnessed wracked him, shook his body so hard that it sounded as if he was shivering.

Elain couldn’t help but mourn alongside him, for another piece of his heart had been broken with another life that he had no choice but to take.

“These hands have killed,” he cried.

“But you are no killer,” Elain whispered, pressing her lips against his neck.

He didn’t believe her, she knew that, but he didn’t protest because every protest he made she would have corrected. They sat silently, on the cold floor as the early hours of the morning passed.

“Come to bed, my love,” she whispered, at last, when she saw his bloodshot eyes drifting shut.

He only nodded, letting her stand and taking her outstretched hand. As she led him to their room, the earliest rays of the sun had begun to creep across the floor, Elain sat Azriel down on their bed and pulled the dark, thick curtains that blocked out nearly all light. Many nights before had taught her that they’d be sleeping in very late in the morning. She laid down and stretched an arm out towards him. His fingers, rough and ridged, brushed her palm. He stood, removing both his pants and undershorts and crawled into bed next to her.

Skin to skin, Azriel again let his tears flow as she held him. As he mourned the life he had been forced to take. As he mourned the lives he’d taken before. As he mourned the childhood that had been taken from him.

And Elain told him that she loved him. And told him that she trusted him. And how he protected her. And what a good person he was.

#elriel #elain #azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #shara #shelby and tara write #collab

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taebinzdimples · 4 years

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That Damn Headband

Kim Taehyung x Reader

Storyline: Your boyfriend Kim Taehyung is one of the vocalists in BTS. You’ve been dating since before he joined the group and nothing has made you more proud to call him yours. He comes home late one night from practice wearing nothing but a tight black shirt, his black jeans, and that damn headband. The same headband that made you get down on all fours for him last week.

Warnings: Smut. That’s it. That’s the warning. Oh and Dom!Taehyung. Oh, and a little surprise at the end!

Author’s Note: I have been having this damn obsession with Tae in a headband so I need to write this out before I forget. It’s also my first time ever writing anything like this so, hope y’all enjoy it!

—-

It’s been six years since you and your boyfriend Kim Taehyung started dating. You had to admit, the whole K-POP experience was definitely something you didn’t see coming, but you weren’t exactly against it either. In fact, it made you so proud to see your boyfriend on stage impressing the world with his beautiful talent. The talent you had always known since you were little.

You two never thought about dating because you grew up as childhood friends, but then you figured you owed it to yourselves go try, and six years later, it still felt as if it still the beginning of your newfound relationship.

It was easy being with Taehyung. The way he made you laugh, the way his box smile had you swooning, even the way he got a little pouty when he didn’t get what he wanted. So, it was easy to watch him do what he loved, and become such a sensation.

You got along with the other members well. It had caused a fight between the two you in the beginning when he thought that you were falling for Jimin. You managed to convince him that that was ridiculous and it ended up in make up sex.

Tonight was particularly draining for you. You were used to Tae’s busy schedule and you found your place within it. You didn’t mind. It made time for you to try and find new interests for yourself. Tonight however, you just wanted to be wrapped in Taeyhung’s arms and have him kiss you nonstop.

It was reaching 11:00 and you were yawning and trying to stay awake. The sound of keys jingling woke you up instantly. By the time you had sat up, Taehyung was in the door and your heart stopped.

He looked delicious. Absolutely yummy.

He was wearing a tight black shirt the hugged his body beautifully, accenting his chest and shoulders. His black jeans clung to his long slender legs. You liked tangling yours with them. And as your eyes panned up to his beautiful sculpted face, you saw it, the thing that drove you crazy when he wore it.

That Damn Headband.

You didn’t know what it was exactly that drove you nuts with lust when he wore it, but it turned you into a school gir who wanted the bad boy.

You thought it was stupid but at the same time, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“(y/n)?” Taehyung called out to you. It brought you from your thoughts and you looked at him.

“You’re wearing it.”

Taehyung looked confused as you slowly reached your hand up and touched the headband.

The low grumble of his chuckle sent a chill down your spine. You were excited as he set down his keys.

“I had practice. Of course I did.” He simply responded. He wore the cocky smirk on his face that made you want to turn away and leave him hanging. Only, you just stared and he knew.

“I thought you liked this one. At least, last week you did.” He said grabbing you and pulling you to him.

“I did. But that was last week.” You winked as you responded to him. You could feel his hands wandering over your body and it was doing things to your core that were absolutely indescribable.

“Then what’s it doing to you right now (y/n)?” He asked before tilting your head up and leaning down to kiss you. Your body was instantly on fire. The heat between your legs growing faster.

“Tae..” You whimpered and you could feel the smirk on his face.

“I’m right here baby.” He said before lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you to your bedroom and laid you down on the bed, his weight sinking you into the mattress.

You wanted this so bad. No, you needed this.

Before you knew it, your clothes were off and Tae was sizing you up in all of your naked glory. He liked seeing you that way. Naked and under his control. You didn’t mind it, you loved it when he dominated you.

“What do you want (y/n)?” He asked in a seductive whisper in your ear. Your body erupted in goosebumps and he liked that. You crashed your lips to his and all he had on was that headband.

He gripped your legs spreading them open as he ducked his head down and flicked his tongue against your clit. Your back arched in response as you let out a mean feeling him work his magic on you. It was glorious the way Tae’s mouth worked. The art of his tongue working you over, and over, and over-

“Don’t come.” You heard his voice command.

“But I want to.” You teased back.

That was the wrong response because you felt him stop and look up at you. “Do you feel like playing games tonight Kitten?” He asked you, his dark eyes showing a promise in them you didn’t know of.

“Yes sir..” You replied as he smirked. He got up going to your special drawer before grabbing a blindfold and some leather cuffs. You squirmed with excitement.

“Alright Kitten, lets play.” He said before pulling the blindfold over your eyes and cuffing your hands behind your back. You were on your knees fronts facing each other.

“If it becomes too much, what’s your safe word?” He asked you lightly cupping your cheek.

“Banana.” You smirked. You felt his hand wrap around your throat and squeeze as you let out a moan. “What’s. Your. Safe word?” He asked in a raspy voice. Your were shaking from the heat between your legs.

“Red.”

“Good girl.”

He kissed you before making his way down your neck and to your chest. He took a nipple in his mouth sucking roughly and you cried out in pleasure. “Tae!” You hissed as he smirked.

It only encouraged him to work his way down your stomach before making you lie back down and spreading your legs. Your breathing was ragged and you wanted to touch him. But you agreed to play, and when that happened, there was no stopping Tae.

“You smell so sweet Kitten. Just as wet for me as always.” He smirked before flicking his tongue with his clit again. Your body responded with another arch in your back and your toes curled. “Please Tae. I need you.” You whimpered.

“Always so eager Kitten.” He played with you. Stuffing his fingers in you as he lapped you up. The sensation was almost unbearable, but you wanted this. You needed more but he would keep holding out the more you begged.

—-

“Oh god Tae!” You cries out as he thrusted into you. His girth stretching you out while his length hit your sensitive spot every. Single. Time.

“Fuck (y/n)! You’re killing me!” He hissed. You were riding him and your hips were working him over mercilessly. He had made you come twice and you wanted to give him the same pleasure.

Every time you went back down you could feel him even more than the first time. Your head was back in pleasure and your hands were placed over his chest.

His hands gripped your hips roughly as you knew there would be bruises.

You didn’t care.

You needed him and you needed him badly. His head was back as the vein his neck stuck out. It was all because of you. Because you could to him what no other woman could.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you which meant he was close. “Come for me.” You demanded and he looked at you. “Is that an order?” He asked you keeping his pace.

You wrapped your hand around his throat and he smirked licking his lips. “Yes ma’am.” He replied before laying back and releasing inside of you.

“Holy shit (y/n)!” He cried out for you.

You both came down from your highs before climbing off of him and laying beside him kissing his chest.

“I love you.” You said softly to him before kissing his cheek.

He turned to his side before pulling you to him putting his forehead to yours.

“I have one thing to ask you (y/n).” He said softly as he ran his thumb over your cheek. You looked up at him, “What is it?”

“Will you marry me?” He asked as your heart thumped in your chest.

“I’m only going to say yes, because you look damn sexy with that headband.”

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lululawrence · 5 years

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WIP Wednesday

I was tagged a week or two ago by @helloamhere to do wip wednesday, so even though @jacaranda-bloom, @beau-soleil-louis, and @reminiscingintherain tagged me to do the last line challenge, i’m letting this fill in for that instead hehe So! here’s a snippet of my current wip! it’s working title is voice harry au, which makes basically no sense to anyone but me, but since this is wip wednesday and doesn’t really have rules, i guess i can explain that too before i share my snippet!

i almost got so distracted i didn’t tag anyone, so i tag those i tagged above who want to do this, as well as @londonfoginacup, @sadaveniren, @becomeawendybird, @kingsofeverything, @laynefaire, and @lightwoodsmagic!

so this all came about because i was watching the voice with my parents and there was this kid trying out. he was from this tiny resort town in idaho (niall played there last year, actually!), and he talked about how growing up he never thought he’d leave his town because he loved it so much. but as he got older, the town grew and changed into a resort town for the rich and famous and he no longer felt like he belonged in this place he loved with so much of himself. it was a rough time for him because he was in high school and didn’t know what he was going to do with himself, and that was when he discovered music and he felt like maybe that was his way out.

during all of this, it showed him sitting on this overlook rock, looking out on this gorgeous lake with trees surrounding him and his outfit was very harry 2013 (a la loose fitting shirt, beanie with curls poking out, etc) and when he came out to sing, his long hair looked like harry’s as well and later he even talked about how people often tell him he reminds them of harry styles. his voice was great as well, and it was then, that this famous/non-famous fic was born. it uses some of the feelings he described in his packet, but the rest of his experience was very different for the fic that grew in my mind.

and with that, below the cut, is the (long, unedited) snippet of my voice harry wip, hopefully coming soon to the @1000feelingsfics fest! haha

Harry set his guitar on the stand and walked to the bar where Mitch was had his beer waiting.

“Oh, Mitch! Buying me a beer? You shouldn’t have,” Harry teased, pretending to act coy. “After all, what would Sarah say?”

“Fuck off, Harry,” Mitch said, but he wasn’t hiding his smile very well. Harry knew he said otherwise, but underneath it all, Mitch really did love him.

Harry laughed and took a sip. He loved the seasonal lagers they served at Steve’s and a new one had just come out last week. Harry sighed happily as he sat down at the stool in front of Mitch.

“So, what did you think?” Harry asked as he set his cup down on the bar. “Is there a certain set you think works better than the other? I liked my new song from Tuesday, but I’m not sure. I feel like people might have preferred my original song from tonight better.”

“I liked your original, myself, but redoing one of Louis Tomlinson’s songs the way you did was ballsy.”

Harry turned, surprised by the voice he heard close to his shoulder. Upon seeing who it was, Harry was even more glad he’d set his glass down before so he couldn’t drop it on the floor when he realized Louis fucking Tomlinson himself was complimenting Harry’s music.

“Holy shit,” Harry said quietly, eyes wide. He blinked a few times, but Louis continued to stand there. “You’re…” Swallowing, Harry did his best to pull himself together and say a full sentence. “Hi, I love your music and I don’t think I’ve played your song yet tonight.”

“You haven’t,” Louis said, smile wide and eyes sparkling. God, he was somehow even more beautiful in person. “But I’ve come every night to hear you sing. You’re really talented.”

Harry looked back to Mitch to see if he was hearing the same thing Harry was. He must have fallen and hit his head or something, because this absolutely wasn’t real. There was no way the Louis Tomlinson had listened to him for three nights and liked what he heard.

“What are you looking at me for?” Mitch asked, flicking Harry with his wet rag as he moved further down to clean the bar where a party had just left. “The pop star is talking to you, not me.”

Turning back to Louis and feeling a bit sheepish over the fact he’s behaving like some socially-challenged elementary school child, Harry rubbed the back of his neck and smiled as best he could. “Thank you,” he finally managed.

“You’re welcome,” Louis said, bowing his head a little as he gestured to the stool beside Harry. “Is this taken?”

Harry shook his head as quickly as he could. “Nope. Definitely free.”

Smiling even wider, Louis sat down and smiled at Mitch. After ordering a beer on tap, Louis turned to Harry. “So, do you write your original stuff by yourself or do you have a writing partner?”

“Oh, uh,” Harry couldn’t really believe he was being asked about his writing process with someone as famous as Louis. What had this night become. “Well I usually write it by myself, but sometimes if I’m stuck on a part or something, Mitch here is really great with a guitar and writing some things himself.”

“He’s full of shit, don’t believe a word he says,” Mitch warned Louis as he handed him his beer then walked away.

Louis started cackling before turning his bright smile Harry’s way. “God, he’s already one of my favorite people in this town.”

Harry tried not to let a swirl of jealousy grow within his belly. “He’s pretty great, yeah,” Harry forced out with what was hopefully a genuine smile before taking a sip of his beer. He really didn’t have much time left before he needed to start his next set, and besides, he really did love Mitch.

“Does he help you with the arrangements for your covers as well?” Louis asked before taking a sip of his own and humming happily at his choice. “I’m being serious when I tell you I’ve never heard someone take a hugely popular song and making it entirely their own like you do. It’s incredible.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, still feeling like this conversation was somehow not really happening. “Those are all my own, though.”

Louis tilted his head and smiled at Harry. “Your YouTube videos are pretty impressive as well, you know.”

Harry choked on his beer in surprise and winced at the burning sensation it caused inside his nose. Thankfully none actually came out, but it was a near thing and that would be bothering him the rest of the night.

“You looked me up on YouTube?” This conversation somehow continued to shock him and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle too much more. Louis was going to send his blood pressure so high he was going to pass out.

Smirking, Louis said, “I’ve done my research on you best I could, yeah.”

Shaking his head, Harry finally had to ask the question that had been running through his head from the moment Louis turned this into a full fledged conversation. “Why?”

“Why what?” Louis asked, chuckling. “You’re good, Harry. I already told you that.”

“Yeah, but,” Harry ran his hand nervously through his hair. “I’m not that good. I mean, I like to think I’m pretty good, but I’ve been called mediocre enough times to know that my chances of getting out of this town thanks to music are slim.”

Louis narrowed his eyes. “Anyone who calls you mediocre obviously has no idea what the fuck they’re talking about.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, well some of them were pretty high up in various record labels, so excuse me for disagreeing.”

“You got in for auditions at labels?” Louis asked, eyebrows high. Harry was at least somewhat glad he was able to turn the tables for at least a little bit.

Shrugging, Harry said, “A couple.”

“Five,” Mitch yelled from where he was mixing drinks a few feet over. “He’s gone to LA for five different labels.”

Turning back to Harry, Louis said, “They’re fucking idiots.”

“Said I wasn’t what they were looking for,” Harry said. “Or that I was too mediocre to gain a true following or something like that.”

Louis leaned forward and said, “Well, I’m telling you they are wrong and I’d like to prove to you how much I believe that.”

One last swig to drain the cup, Harry stood up and asked, “Oh yeah? And how’d you like to do that?”

“Write with me.”

“Yeah right,” Harry said turning around to walk back to his makeshift stage. This had to be a prank someone was pulling on him. Hell, Grimmy knew exactly how much he loved Louis and his music. He’d probably run into him and asked him to pull Harry’s leg or something.

“I’m serious,” Louis called after him.

“Okay,” Harry said with a laugh before he picked up his guitar. “I’ll dedicate this next set to you and if you’re still here afterwards, we can exchange numbers.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Curly.”

#mine #voice au #snippet #wip wednesday

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mentalmimosa · 6 years

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the naive type

Prompts: One night stand and Private investigator AU. Prompts from this generator.

It’s not Tony’s fault that the guy’s gorgeous, that he has eyes that’d stop a train in its tracks. Dark hair, too, just this side of too long, and a habit of sweeping it out of his face in this careless, insolent way that Tony’s sure the guy’s practiced--while staring in a mirror, probably, smirking as he thinks about all the old mooks he’ll be able to roll with that gesture, with a flash of those perfect white teeth.

It’s not Tony’s fault either that he’s had a few too many; that he’d gone out looking for this guy when the world was a little too sideways, the night blurred at the edges like a painting left out in the rain. This case--this fucking case--it’s sucking the life out of him, draining not only his bankroll but his sanity: Captain America is missing and the feds are trying to keep it quiet and if Tony doesn’t find him in the next 72, Uncle Sam is coming for his head. And the fat retainer they paid him for his discretion, his speed, his--how had their Miss Carter put it? Oh yes: his innumerable talents and skill.

Little did they know (or maybe that did?) that said talents include downing half a flask of whiskey after dinner without breaking a sweat. It was the second half that made him blotto.

And then the call had come. The man he’d been sniffing out for two days had finally showed up at his favorite haunt, the one place everybody who knew him swore that he could always be found: a bar called Les Jeux out near the docks and so, by hook or by crook, Tony was gonna haul his ass across town to corner the guy and finally get him to spill. That was the plan.

Except in his swimmy state, he hadn’t accounted for the guy--Barnes, James. B--to have a plan of his own. Especially one that involved him being beautiful, smokey eyes and an open collar and a tendency to stare at Tony’s mouth when he spoke, like he was dying to see each and every letter form and die on Tony’s lips.

“We grew up together, yeah,” he says from behind his gin and tonic. “And before this whole Army business, I’ve have told you we were best friends.”

“Before?” Tony says, trying to hike his voice over the musical stylings of an overly enthusiastic pianist. “What, you don’t approve?”

“Of Steve signing up to be a dancing monkey? No, Mr. Stark. I do not.”

“What he’s doing is important. He means a lot to uh, a lot of people, they say.”

Barnes leans closer, one elbow pitched on the bar. “He’d rather be in Europe punching Nazis for real than running around the country like a star-spangled clown. That I can tell you for sure.”

“I’m sure they’d let him if he asked.”

A slow blink, another long sip of gin. “It’s funny,” Barnes says. “You didn’t strike me as the naive type, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony. I don’t--I’d rather you call me Tony.”

“Tony,” Barnes says delicately, turning the word over on his tongue. “Hmmm. It suits you.” He tugs at Tony’s wrinkled tie and runs his fingers over one weatherbeaten lapel. “Better than your get up, I must say.”

“It’s been a long day.”

Barnes’ fingers are cool, a little damp from his drink, and they linger. “Has it?”

“Yeah. Your friend’s AWOL act is running me ragged.”

“Hmmm. You need something to take the edge off, is that it?”

Something in Tony’s gut flutters, like he’s swallowed a jar of butterflies. “Truth be told, I’ve been trying all night and nothing’s made a damn difference.”

Barnes chuckles. “You’ve been drinking. That’s not trying. That’s opening up and hoping the abyss will come in.” He touches the thin strip of skin poking out above Tony’s shirt collar, a quick press of two fingers. “There are other ways, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Like...I could call my friend Betty over. That blonde over there, see? She’s a real nice girl. She can take you in the back and make you forget your troubles for a little while.” He grins. “Or a long while, depending on your preference.”

Oh, Tony’s pickled brain thinks helpfully. Oh.

“No, no, Mr. Barnes. I mean, I appreciate the offer, it’s just--”

Barnes’s thumb paints his jaw and sends a thousand hungry sparks up and over his skin. “Hmm? Just what?”

Tony looks the guy square in the eye. “I’m not in the mood for a Betty tonight.”

Which is how he ends up in a backroom--a storeroom, Barnes tells him between kisses, a secret space left over from Prohibition--with his pants around his ankles and his back against the wall and Barnes’ hand squeezing them both, jerking and sliding and god, what Tony wouldn’t give for some Vaseline or some good ol’ KY.

“Yeah?” Barnes spits in his mouth, his voice slurred by pleasure, by the sweep of Tony’s tongue. “You like that?”

Tony tugs at the guy’s hair, yanks it out of its neat Brylcreem lines, and arches his hips into that sweet devil of a fist. “If you’ve gotta ask, Barnes, that means you’re doing it wrong.”

Barnes laughs and jacks them both harder, his breath coming hot and fast. “You’re about to come all over my dick,” he says. “I think you’ve earned the right to call me Buck.”

“Buck, huh?” Tony clutches at the guy’s perfect ass. “Not Jimmy or James?”

“Fuck no. Bucky.”

“Is that what Steve calls you?”

Barnes bit Tony’s lip, none too nice, and growls: “Yes.”

“What? You don’t want to talk about Steve now?”

Bucky hissed and Tony could feel the guy’s cock jump, the spurt of wet from the tip.

“Wait,” Tony says, his last two brain cells firing up. “No. No, you want to think about Steve when you’re jerking me off, don’t you? Is that what’s gonna put you over the hump? Huh? Thinking about Captain America while you play with your cock?”

Bucky makes a hot, wounded sound and leans into him, crushes Tony against the wall and works them faster. “Shut up . Shut the fuck up, Stark!”

Ah, god, Tony thinks with a groan, at last: the first sunlight in ages. So they're more than friends, aren't they, more than just old buddy, old pals. Hell, the gods of fools and private dicks have blessed him at last; it's the first hint he's found of anything useful, anything that might actually lead him to the whereabouts of Steve Rogers, the star spangled king.

He digs his nails into the back of Bucky’s neck. “You’re about to come on my cock,” he says, way too loud. “I think you’d better call me Tony. Unless you’d rather just straight up call me Steve.”

Bucky moans like he’s been shot through the heart and there’s heat everywhere, the smell of spunk, and a needy, knowing rut as Tony’s hand catches what Buck can no longer hold and picks up the last few desperate strokes and then Tony’s coming, too; quick furious spurts that make him feel divine and stupid and more clear-headed than he’s been in a week. Yeah, this Barnes guy may have been a pain in the ass to find, he thinks, but by god, he’d been worth the wait.

Barnes’ mouth finds his and they kiss again, slower this time but deeper, slick hands sliding under each other’s jackets, between buttons, plucking at the hints of bare flesh.

“So,” Tony says when he can speak again, when his lips are ready for something other than another scorching kiss. “Let’s try this again, Buck. When’s the last time you saw Steve Rogers?”

#winteriron #background stucky #noir au #private eye tony stark

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imagine--drv3 · 7 years

Text

May I ask for the boys hearing their s/o singing for the first time? Thank you, and I'm sorry if this has been done before lol

I was so excited to do this request, it’s adorable!!

Korekiyo Shinguuji

Shinguuji’s discovery of your talents was a hugely cliche situation. But, since you were the kind of person to keep your voice to yourself, it was unlikely to happen any other way...

You were taking a shower and happened to forget Shinguuji was in the next room. So, of course, you let loose.

Shinguuji had never heard your singing before, and at first, he thought it wasn’t even you. Edging closer to the bathroom door, he leaned in and started theorizing.

Perhaps you had bought a new speaker? Were you listening to some a capella youtube cover?

But no, it... seemed to be your voice.

Shinguuji was the kind of person to take new information in stride. There were hardly ever moments where he felt taken aback.

And yet, standing in front of the bathroom door that day, he was genuinely surprised.

Since when did you have such an operatic voice??

He couldn’t help but listen until your voice faded and the water trickling down the drain ebbed away.

Then, he calmly raised his hands and started clapping.

Your surprised squeak only encouraged him. He stood there, clapping for you, until you hesitantly opened the door.

“Human beings sure are wonderful,” he sighed, looking at you fondly. “Some more so than others.”

Rantarou Amami

As Rantarou waited for your return, he balled his wet rag up and heaved a deep sigh.

He was too sick to leave his bed, and worse, he couldn’t sleep a wink. He felt completely tired out; his burning throat and woozy head were all he could focus on. Groaning weakly, he pushed the rag back onto his forehead and tried to clear his mind.

You must have heard his groan; the door creaked open quietly, and Rantarou could see you peering into the room. He grinned at you, but to you, it seemed more like a grimace.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked him, sitting at the edge of his bed.

“No.” Rantarou feebly reached for your hand, seeking comfort. You took it and ran your thumb over his skin, hoping to soothe him somewhat. This time, his smile seemed more peaceful and genuine.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, you had an idea. You cleared your throat and tried to pick something lovely...

“Lullaby, and good night, in the skies stars are bright...”

Rantarou’s eyes flew open as his entire face lit up. This was the first time he’d heard you sing... and you had such a pretty voice

You continued your lullaby, letting go of his hand to stroke his hair instead. His breathing gradually slowed... soon enough, he completely relaxed into the pillows, a content smile lingering on his face.

You stayed by his side until sleep overtook you, too.

Kokichi Ouma

“Hey hey, let’s go check that out!!” Ouma exclaimed, pointing at a karaoke bar that had just opened on your street.

“We can’t go everywhere you decide to go on a whim, you know,” you said, but he was already long gone, pulling you towards the building with the focused determination of a dog going after a treat.

So, you gave up and followed him inside. You were used to following him into unplanned excursions, anyway.

“What shall we sing?!” Ouma flipped through the choices rapidly. “Can you hit high notes or low ones? We have to sing something they won’t expect. Let’s try for that one American song, the one people compare to the ogre!”

“No.” You said firmly. “Please, anything but that.”

“Aaaaaaanything?” he repeated, batting his eyelashes.

"...I already know what song you want me to do, so let’s just get this over with.”

“Hah!” Ouma pumps his fist in the air and pushes you towards the DJ. “Go, make me proud!”

“Wait, you’re not coming with me??” You turned back, but he was already gone.

So, rolling your eyes, you went through the queue and found yourself at the edge of the stage. Ouma stared up at you with practical stars in his eyes. Knowing him, he was probably actually hoping you’d fall on your face or something.

Oh, well. You decided to make the best of it, since he was having so much fun.

“Yo listen up, here’s a story. About a little guy who lives in a blue world...”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ouma’s jaw drop, and you knew why. You actually sounded really good.

Winking at him, you played into the atmosphere, dramatically posing and dancing along to the song. “Blue his house, with a blue little window and a blue corvette...”

Ouma cheered you on for the rest of the song, bouncing up and down with glee. You finished with a flourish of your wrist, grinning down at your boyfriend with satisfaction. For once, you’d managed to surprise him.

As soon as you were off the stage, he flung himself into your arms. “That’s it. We’re perfect for each other. I’m never letting you go.”

He didn’t even try to pretend he was lying.

Shuuichi Saihara

Saihara already knew you could play the piano. It was one of his favorite things to listen to.

You weren’t perfect; you were never a child prodigy, you had to work hard with your playing. Even so, listening to you practice made him happy. You were so determined to keep going until you had mastered each piece that you would play it over and over, never giving up!

But he didn’t know that you also had a talent for singing until he heard you accompanying the piano with your voice

He had been in the next room over, absentmindedly flipping through an old book, when your voice floated through the quiet house.

“What can I share... with... you? To show my love... is... true?”

He knew your voice was lovely, but your singing was something else. Without even thinking about it, he stood and followed the sound to the next room...

“To show my love... is... true?”

Seemingly caressing the keys, your eyes remained closed as you poured over the piano, rocking in time to the music. The memory of the melody was imprinted into your fingertips... you knew exactly where to play without needing to see the keys. Saihara was enraptured; he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Love’s all we need... to... share...”

Your voice was sweet, but firm; each note seemed to dance and shimmer over your heads.

“To show how much... we... care,” you finished.

Slowly opening your eyes, you were surprised to find Saihara standing in the doorway, tears spilling down his cheeks.

He would never forget the first time he heard you sing. Never.

Kaito Momota

"Happy biiiiirthdaaaaay toooo yooooou..! Happy biiiirthdaaaay toooooooooo you...!”

Momota played along with you, grinning and rocking back and forth while you waved a cupcake in front of his face.

“Haaaaaappy biiiiiiiiiirthdaaaaaay deeeeeeaaaar Moooomotaaaaaaaa...!”

He pretended to lunge for the treat, and you responded by caking his nose with icing.

Dissolving into giggles at his shocked, sugary face, you somehow managed to finish the last verse.

“Haaappy biiiirthdaaaay tooooo yoooooooouuuu...!”

“I can’t believe I played right into your hands...!” Momota hung his head, pouting over-dramatically. You kept giggling, and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Didn’t I tell you I would give you something sweet?” You teased him.

“Yeah, but I was thinking you would give it to me instead of smearing it over my nose.” He complained. You only shrugged, smiling ‘innocently’.

“Let’s back up for a moment, though,” he grabbed your wrist, his eyes shining with excitement. “I didn’t know you could sing..!”

“Can’t everyone?” You replied.

“Baaaaaaaabe...” He went back to pouting. “You know what I mean! Your voice is so nice... it’s like, strong, but not forceful... y’know?”

“Awh, thanks.” You took his compliment, genuinely pleased. “I’m glad you think so.”

Can you sing something else for me?” He asked enthusiastically.

“Sure! You just have to do me one favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Wipe the frosting off of your face already. I can’t take you seriously at all.”

He started laughing, and you couldn’t help joining in.

“Alright, alright. To hear that again? No sweat. It’s a promise!”

Kiibo

It wasn’t long before Kiibo heard you sing for the first time. It was a beautiful day, one you didn’t want to waste, so you convinced Kiibo to go on a drive with you.

With the windows rolled down and the radio turned up, you burst into song right then and there. Kiibo glanced over at you with a puzzled look, but focused on driving.

“Kiibo!” You hold your hand out of the window, letting the breeze flow around your skin. “Sing with me!”

“No, I do not sing. You should enjoy yourself, though,” Kiibo answered politely.

“Come on, party pooper! You’re missing out!” You aren’t too bothered, though. The next song that comes on happens to be one of your favorites, so you let out a loud cheer.

Kiibo smiles at you and listens to you sing for the rest of the drive. When you finally pull into your destination, he waits patiently for the song to finish before turning off the car.

“So?” You pretended to hold a mic in front of his mouth. “What’s the verdict? Will I make it to the next round, or are my Idol dreams forever destined to be crushed?”

He taps his chin. “Well, you went flat on some of the lower notes, but your upper range is really strong. I think with the right song choice, you could -”

You whack his arm. “Hey, I wasn’t really asking you to judge me! Now my confidence is crushed. How can I possibly continue in this competition?”

He looks into your eyes and replies with total innocence. “You can continue because your voice makes me happy. I would listen to you forever, if you wanted me to.”

You weren’t expecting such a serious answer; with heat rising in your cheeks, you manage to stammer out that that would not be necessary,, thank you very much!

Kiibo nods. “Of course, it’s your decision. I’m glad I’m one step closer to knowing the person I love.”

You couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

Gonta Gokuhara

Your monthly hike was going very well. Gonta seemed happy with the wildlife around you (especially the bugs, of course), and you spent some time admiring the scenery. Sunlight was shining through patches of the forest, giving the whole area a holy and peaceful feeling.

Gonta was being the perfect gentleman to you, too, as always. His large hand was holding yours most of the time; he moved branches aside for you, helped you up some of the messier paths, and the two of you were having such a lovely time you felt happiness bubbling up inside you.

You started to hum a tune, an old favorite of yours. It caught Gonta’s attention; he tilted his head and asked, “What is that?”

“It’s one of my favorite songs!” you replied.

“Really? How does it go?” he asked, completely abandoning the hike to stop and listen to you.

“Well - hold on.” you drink some of your water and clear your throat. “Okay, it goes like...”

Gonta was looking so expectant you felt a bit nervous, but you managed to sing it anyway.

“Hush... now... I see a light in the sky... Oh, it’s almost blinding me... I can’t believe I’ve been touched by an angel with love...”

When you finish, Gonta has the biggest smile. “That was so amazing! Wow!” In his enthusiasm, he pulled you into an (almost literally) crushing hug. “You’re incredible!”

You wheeze laugh and return the hug. “That’s so sweet of you, Gonta. Thanks!”

“Promise me I’ll get to hear you sing again?” he asked.

“Of course!” Anything for him. “I promise.”

Ryouma Hoshi

Singing along to your usual playlist, you got started on the kitchen floor. With each beat of the music, you swept the broom back and forth, imagining it was a mic stand.

With the music blaring through the apartment, you didn’t notice Hoshi unlocking the door, and you didn’t notice him stare at you as you started to really get into it. Tossing your hair back and forth, you started to really belt into the broom handle.

“Whoa, well I never meant to brag, but I've gotten what I wanted noooow..!”

Hoshi’s expression softened. You were having so much fun, there was no way he could ruin the moment...

Backing out of the doorway, he closed the door behind him and leaned into it. He could still hear you really wailing over the music, and could tell you were still dancing to the beat. The floor was thumping, and you were starting to get out of breath. But that didn’t surprise him; when it came to the things you loved, you really gave 110%. You inspired him to be a better version of himself, because you always pushed yourself to do better...

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the song ended. Shaking his head, he once more stepped into the apartment, this time making sure to call your name before your next song began.

“How was your day?” you asked cheerfully.

“Not too great, unfortunately.” He paused. “But you know, something made it a lot better just now.”

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