#left deltoid tattoo
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Casey Bunce
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NSFW ALPHABET LETTER B SNIPPET
Body part (Their favorite body part of their partners)
Before reading be warned this is very Dessycoded and self indulgent but still wrote as a reader fic. I will never recover from this I am currently terminally ill for this man.
CW: Pet names (puppy, little one) , size kink, established relationship, shy bratty coded reader, slightly suggestive
Pairing: Taiju Shiba and fem!reader
*Reader has a kitty kat but no pronouns
Network: @enchantedforest-network
You peeped your head around the corner of the bedroom door as you walked down the hall heading to the living room, you knew he was in the bedroom changing and if you were lucky he wouldn’t notice you stealing a glance at his body. Specifically the large expanse of his back, the cross mural and the spiraling tattoos that shaped his broad shoulders. His back was always covered in crescent shaped love marks from the way you clung so tightly while he relentlessly pounded away at your pussy. The way his deltoids flexed when he took off his shirt in the most tantalizing lip biting way had you clenching around absolutely nothing. The sight left you absolutely breathless, your whole body vibrating, pupils blown out, blood boiling, almost like you were having the longest drawn out full body orgasm. And all just from a glimpse of Taiju’s back.
Standing in the middle of the shared bedroom with his back turned to you was Taiju and he had just begun to peel of his shirt, arms crossed in front of him, fingertips brushing the bottom of the black t-shirt. Your mouth fell open in awe as you drank in the sight, breath hitching as he pulled the fabric over his head, rippling muscles expanding and flexing in the most delicious manner. The marks from the previous night still raw and bright red.
You gulped back down your heart that had lunged into your throat, eyes trailing down his back in the most sinful manner as you took your lower lip in between your teeth to silence the whimper that almost left you. Even though the interaction had only lasted a few mere seconds you were watching in slow motion.
Just as he finished taking off the shirt and tossing it into the dirty clothes you went to turn on your heel, quietly making your way to the living room but Taiju’s voice called out to you, “Little one, did you think I didn’t know you were staring at me? If you wanted to watch, all you had to do was ask.” While you couldn’t see the cocky smirk on his face you sure could hear it in his voice. “C’mere. Now.” his husky voice made your hot blood now run cold as you obediently stepped back into the bedroom, nippling your lip nervously as you stared down at the floor.
If you looked at Taiju now you would fold, crumble into yourself, giving him the satisfaction of having complete and absolute control over you. He easily could lead you along, making sure everything went the way he wanted. He knew you wouldn’t disobey at this point in the relationship. He demanded your obedience and you trusted him enough to give him that power. So when he cleared his throat and closed the distance you knew it would all be over as he hooked his thumb under your chin forcing you to look at him in those beautiful golden eyes that left you speechless.
“You know I like when you're a good girl, so tell me why you were watching me change from the hallway?” The corners of his lips pulled into a smirk, fangs on full display as he watched you freeze on the spot. He knew the reason, Taiju was observant, he made sure to keep track of the smallest details like how your eyes always wandered to his back when he changed, or how you squeezed his biceps when you were about to cum, he even knew that you had a habit of picking at your nails when you felt nervous or uncomfortable.
When you didn’t answer he tsk’d shaking his head in disapproval as he titled your face up, dipping down to meet you halfway until his lips were inches from yours. He answered the question for you, teasingly brushing his thumb across your lower lip as his other hand took purchase on your lower back, “Hmm, You like how strong I am, little one? You like my back and shoulders? I know you like my biceps too, you don’t hide it very well. It turns you on doesn’t it? Makes you wish you were clinging to me like you do every night in bed while I fuck you so good you cry?” He chuckled when you nodded in response, his hot breathing fanning over your lips as he claimed them with his, pulling you into a deep kiss, the type of kiss that made your lungs burn as your lips melted against his.
He pulled away right as you swiped your tongue along his lips boldly, denying you entrance as he grinned devilishly. He easily picked you up in his arms bridal style, your arms circling around his neck as he carried you to bed, crawling in to rest against the back of the headboard. He positioned you in his lap, your legs straddling his hips as he grinned down at the way your pupils expanded as you stared up at him with the cutest little pout playing on your lips as you tried to escape from his lap.
“Don’t.” He growled out lowly, flashing his fangs to give you a warning. Taiju hummed when he felt your body relax as you gazed into his eyes meekly. You looked like his prey and he couldn’t help but tease you, as he grabbed both of your hands in his much larger ones, bringing them both to his lips to softly kiss each knuckle before placing them on his shoulders, his palms resting on top of yours as he dragged your soft hands down his chest stopping when you reached the peak of his chiseled abs. “Go on, this is what you wanted right puppy?” He nudged your cheek with his nose, to get you to look at him again when you couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, his velvety voice making your ears burn as he spoke softly into the sweet spot on your neck that made a whine leave your parted lips, “I like when your hands are on me, keep going yeah? Show me how much you want me with those pretty lil hands of yours.”
© Linpunny 2023 All of the following works are fictional and belong to me. Please do not copy, edit, or steal any of my content. Do not advertise on any other social media.
#shiba taiju#taiju shiba#taiju shiba smut#taiju smut#taiju x reader#tokyo rev smut#tokyo revengers smut#dessy’s tomes#DROPS THIS SELF INDULGENT DESSY CODED BS AND RUNS AWAY TO DIVE INTO A VOLCANO#I HATE HIM BUT LIKE HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH YA DAMN OVERSIZED GORILLA#chain divider by @/benkaibear
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❔[NAME] WIKI - ALABASTA ARC ENDS
realized i left it out of my a/n last update but, after every major arc in one piece, there will be a "[name] wiki" that will just highlight information that might have been missed/not so obviously stated about [name] as well as bonus infomration on relationships, fun facts, etc!!! anyway, enjoy this little filler update before skypiea <333
link to original fanfic where thsi wiki is based from :D
full name: [REDACTED] D. [NAME]
age: 20, departed from foosha village at 17 — it’s been three years since then
affiliations:
— [REDACTED] Pirates ERROR LOADING
— [REDACTED] ERROR LOADING
— connection with Shanks/Red Hair Pirates in some way
— [REDACTED] Pirates, temporary member, mutual gain
— Straw Hat Pirates
epithet: [REDACTED]
The Cursed Orphan
birthday: [xx/xx] ← this is your own birthday LOL
height: 6’5
there is a reason he is so tall, please trust me he is not insanely tall for no reason. like there are plot reasons as to why he built like a beanstock.
- related: i forgot that his height was lowkey a plot point (a teensy teensy tiny bit) so i forgot to mention his height until very very very very very recently in the chaptesr LMFAOOA
bounty:
— 200,000,000
— 250,000,000
japanese va: junichi suwabe … or … yuki kaji … or more like kenjiro tsuda (i cant decide unfortunately lmk in comments bc i like all of these vas a lot)
appearance:
— has a giant tattoo expanding over his shoulders/back. they look like wings (minus the figure in the middle). they don’t look like the typical tattooed angel wings going downwards, they more-so stretch across his back and the tips end at his deltoids.
— keeps a black cloth wrapped around one of his wrists, at all times. this cloth was torn from shanks’ cloak and [name] keeps it as a safe keeping
— always is wearing a silver necklace. it’s a simple, thin chain that is almost unnoticeable, but he is never seen without it.
— has scars all over his body. they’re not battle scars. they start from his face and go all the way down to his feet. if you were to see his entire body, you would see that most of the scars are single lines that do NOT disconnect from their starting point. they run almost continuously. for example, the scarred line that starts at his face goes all the way down to his feet, without being “interrupted.” origins are unknown.
weapon: a sword that was passed down from shanks and given to him as a gift. he doesn’t know the proper name of it, but it looks like a regular katana. he has never drawn his sword in the series yet, seeing as he only reveals the blade when he is out to very seriously maim, torture, or kill his enemies. the katana radiates an intimidating aura and anyone around [name] can feel it.
standard outfit: just jeans and a t-shirt, nothing crazy goes on here LMFAO or whatever you wanna envision him to be wearing.
abilities: have not been completely revealed, but it does have something to do with water. this explains his ability to control people’s bodies, seeing as their blood and overall body mass has a high percentage of water.
— he has some control over sea water, but only for short bursts of time.
— he is not completely immune to the effects of sea water, though. if he is submerged in it for a long enough period of time <a couple of minutes>, then he will begin drowning and sinking just like a devil fruit eater would.
— did not eat a devil fruit. the origins of his powers are unknown at this time.
— skilled swordsman, source: trust me bro. but seriously, he doesn’t just swing around the sword, even though we’ve never seen him use it, he’s generally very good with weapons of all kinds — but has a specialty in blades.
— has been seen using geppo, soru, and shigan.
favorite food: COFFEE BEANS + SEAFOOD :) cheese
fun facts:
likes: all the strawhats, animals, bitter flavors
dislikes: the world gov + navy, anyone that isn't a strawhat, anything sweet flavored
— the name the government gave him was due to how they could not find any family lineage tied to him
— considers dadan and makino as his mother figures!
— the song he is always humming is for fruits basket <333
— its not that he only drinks coffee and not anything else — like booze, its just he doesnt like the taste of booze. he can drink it, but he wont like it.
— if he were to live in the real world, he would have a job in child protective services. he cares a lot for children. plus he feels the natural instinct to be protective of those around him.
— he can tell if there is anybody nearby due to how he is able to see water concentration to a certain extent. that is why whenever he squints in the distance or at the water, he is looking for something to pop out and is expecting to see someone/something.
— is really offstandish when it comes to strangers. it takes a lot to get trust out of him, but if it’s someone that luffy or the others trust, then he’s quick to lower his guard.
— finds it really amusing whenever chopper, nami, or usopp run to hide behind him when they see any enemies. he doesn’t mind it, but still thinks its really funny whenever it happens.
— he enjoys pissing off zoro, but never brings up their past fight. to him, it was a silly thing that happened in the past so he doesn’t hold it over zoro’s head, plus he saw how much it affected the swordsman.
— hates manspreaders → has a chronic, worst case of manspreading anyone has ever seen
— has the highest debt to nami in the entire crew (somewhere in the 300-400,000)
— the tattoo over ace’s heart are words that he and ace shared with each other (”together in chaos”) when they were children (LOOOREEEE)
— wants to start working out with zoro, but due to their recent adventures hasn’t had the chance to :(
— unlike luffy, he has no qualms in killing his enemies. he wishes he were like luffy in this sense, but he is paranoid that these people will come back for him, or worse — the crew, so he eliminates them when he can.
— [name] really, really wanted vivi to come along. but he didn't verbalize it so as to not pressure her or manipulate the decision of what she herself wanted.
— whenever he wakes up from sleep, he’s in one of three odd positions: 1. luffy and him somehow end up cuddling, 2. he’s on the floor, or 3. he’s (not maliciously aka they're not actually dying.) choking either zoro or sanji with his arm.
— feels particularly protective of nami — not because she is a woman, but because he saw how sick she had gotten and was scared she would die. addtionally, he trusts her and her ability to fight, but if she requests for his help in a battle, he wouldn’t hesitate to go and help her.
— if him and sanji can't sleep at night, they go out on the deck and smoke together until one of them gets tired and they go back to bed.
— rather prideful in being strong. at the same time, he doesn’t really enjoy the nature of his abilities
— [name] had a bad history with the people on whiskey peak, which explains his hostility to them in the beginning chapters (they fooled him by giving him a lot of food, then they tried attacking him while he was sleeping, and he had to fight them.) doesn't like being lied to.
— vivi wishes she could have knighted [name] into holding a formal title as a guardian in the kingdom of alabasta, but igaram rejected the idea. her father and pell were close to agreeing, but ultimately decided that they couldn't and shouldn't seeing as [name] was too infamous for being a lethal pirate. vivi sulked about this for a while.
love language : acts of service and physical touch
— the more comfortable he is with someone, the more likely he is to crack jokes around them. it means hes relaxed and can feel comfortable being himself rather than being on edge and guarded.
— vivi often times hums the song that [name] always hummed, smiling whenever she remembers the amount of memories she had made with the crew. that song has now become her favorite despite her not knowing where it was from or if there were even words that went along with it.
— animal representation: crow
— who would he be if the strawhats were a family? the one younger cousin that keeps running around shouting about how he wants to fight/do something that requires a lot of energy from everyone else (or, cool uncle)
— he actually naturally has a very sweet scent, but since he is always brewing coffee/eating coffee beans, he masks that scent with coffee since he hates it :)
personality type : ENFP
→ characters that are ENFP: jinx (arcane/league of legends), hu tao (genshin impact), harley quinn (dc universe), and ellie (the last of us)
how would [name] describe his relationships:
with luffy: captain, dearest person in his life, partner in crime in annoying the rest of the crew, personal backpack since luffy is always climbing him
with zoro: most reliable crewmate, best first mate to luffy, good friendly competitor 1/2 strongest swordsman in the world
with nami: smartest crewmate!! admires her navigation abilities, enjoys her company when she isn't yelling bloody murder at him </3 1/3 of his priority people to protect
with usopp: fun to tease and joke around with, enjoys the way usopp lies even though he hates liars, 2/3 of his priority people to protect
with sanji: the best chef in the world, genuinely a very kind man, sees eye to eye with him more often than not, thinks his rude persona is just a front LOL good friendly competitor 2/2
with chopper: cutest mascot, thinks he is genuinely very strong, admires his mental strength and his story, 3/3 of his priority people to protect
with vivi: worrisome princess, braver than she gives herself credit for, very close friend he hopes to reunite with in the future! a crewmate in his mind even if she is not sailing with them
with ace: idiot, but also a very cute idiot <3 freckles, sees a lot of their childhood in ace’s eyes which makes him slightly emotional, reckless, misses him a lot right now
EXTRA BONUS:
playlist !
his theme songs are: chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey, i know ? by travis scott, here comes your man by the pixies ← will add more songs in each wiki !!!
— cotcc : “it’s beautiful, how this deep normality settles down over me. i’m not bored or unhappy, i’m still so strange and wild. you’re in the wind, i’m in the water. nobody’s son, nobody’s daughte,”
— i know ?: “tell me, is you still up. it’s 5 a.m. and i’m drunk right now. tell me, can we still fuck. // i know, mami, i know, it’s 2 a.m., don’t stress. at 3, that bullshit kick in, in thirty, you’ll feel your best”
— here comes your man, “take me away to nowhere plains. there is a wait so long (so long, so long). you'll never wait so long. here comes your man, here comes your man, here comes your man, here comes your man”
luffy & [name]: video games, “it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you. everything i do — i tell you all the time. heaven is a place on earth with you. // it’s better than i ever even knew. they say that the world was built for two. only worth living if somebody is loving you.”
zoro & [name]: married with children, “i hate the way that you are so sarcastic and you’re not very bright. you think that everything you’ve done’s fantastic. your music’s shit, it keeps me up all night, up all night // and it will be nice to be alone, for a week or two. but i knew then i will be right, right back here with you, with you, with you, with you, with you, with you”
sanji & [name]: right side of my neck, “the right side of my neck still smells like you. the right side of my neck still smells like you”
nami & [name]: LOYALTY, “tell me when your loyalty is comin’ from the heart. tell me who you loyal to. do it start with your women or your man? do it end with your family and friends? or you’re loyal to yourself in advance?”
usopp & [name]: my way, “for what is a man, what has he got? if not himself, then he has naught. to say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels. the record shows i took the blows. and did it my way”
vivi & [name]: happiness is a butterfly, “if he’s a serial killer, then what’s the worst thing that could happen to a girl who’s already hurt? i’m already hurt. if he’s as bad as they say, then i guess i’m cursed. looking into his eyes, i think he’s already hurt. he’s already hurt.”
chopper & [name]: live and let die, “when you were young and your heart was an open book, you used to say live and let live. but if this ever changing world in which we’re living, makes you give in and cry — say live and let die”
ace & [name]: my love mine all mine, “nothing in the world belongs to me, but my love, mine, all mine, all mine. // nothing in the world is mine for free, but my love mine, all mine, all mine”
taglist (lmk if u want to be tagged ! <3 :
@skullr0se , @strawberrii-tea, @triangulartriangles, @anotherlovefool, @haratatsu, @sinmp, @3v37773, @taru-nami, @disc0dild0s, @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @kaulitzer, @notplutos, @cheetosins
[ .ᐟ ] PSA ! DO NOT I REPEAT DO NOT READ THIS (older version of this) STORY ON WATTPAD I REPEATTTTT DO NOTTT BECAUSE ! MY OLD VERSION OF THIS STORY IS STILL PUBLISHED bc i dont rlly want to take it down tbh bc a lot of ppl still read it AND IT IS SPOILLLERRRSS FOR WHAT I PLAN ON DOING WITH THIS STORY !!! because this is re-written and a much much much much much improved version of that oldddd story + it is still following that original plot line i had all those years ago just like 10000x better bc idk what drugs i was on when i was writing that ff all those years ago bc that shit is crazy LMFOAOAOA i beg, i BEG, of you to not read it i want this experience to be so fun with all the plotwists and motives of characters like pleaseeee do not read it (also ??? its jus so cringe worthy jus dont read it LFMAO)
#≡;- ꒰ ° keep safe series ꒱#ks#one piece x male reader#one piece x reader#x male reader#x reader#male reader#one piece male reader#one piece imagines#male reader imagines#anime male reader#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanfic#male reader fanfic#male reader fanfiction
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S.H.I.T [Sugar Honey Iced Tea]
Raiting: 18+
Warnings: SMUT; Semi-public sex; Riding, errors after errors after errors after errors after errors...
A/N: This week I took a break from my long fic to do my duties. Request from @nayys-world , dedicated to @mcreignsera for her birthday. Hope y’all like it!
The cafeteria of the gym where they had decided to train that day was not well stocked unlike the fitness rooms and in the grip of desire to get some fresh air, Y/N had crossed an entire block to find something to drink that was her liking and disconnect for a while. When she returned a half hour later, the music was still blaring through the wall speakers, but fortunately half the people who had come to peek at them had vanished from the gym by lunchtime and those who remained must have received some call because they didn't even mention crossing the threshold of the room where they had taken their places for the day. And so, free at last from sinuous looming presences and future car lifts in the garden, Y/N sat down on a bench, her own sugar honey iced tea in her hands, nibbled absently on the straw.
Shit.
Roman was still where she had left him, engaged in another endless series of exercises: it was the day of arms and shoulders. The tank top had stuck to his chest due to sweat, a few strands had escaped from the bun and the shorts he had been wearing were now creased due to the continuous movements.
She absorbedly sucked on some of her drink, swinging her crossed leg in the air, eyes on him and she began to feel it, the heat building and her abdomen liquid. He always had that effect on her.
When you did a job like theirs you got used to many things and if you were a woman, even to being surrounded by sweaty, half-naked men walking around as if nothing had happened. It hadn't been different for her, she had no shame in that area and she had gotten used to it for years, they didn't affect her, but Roman... he definitely had a certain effect on her. He succeeded dressed, with headset, a hood, messy hair and sometimes even those absurd glasses that he pulled out of the bottom of his suitcase, let alone in that state and after having been under the eyes of a wave of women who seemed to have landed there like an invasion of algae after a full moon. Not that Y/N was jealous or had any right to be, but one part of her was genuinely competing after almost getting a ponytail smack to her face and the other part was honestly too busy burning in her memory that missed sextape.
She watched him lean with one arm on the bench, the tattooed one lifting the dumbbell to tense the bicep, the deltoid swelling and rising. His forehead was sweaty, the veins in his neck bulged from the sustained effort, his jaw clenched. His movements reminded her too much of when they "were together" and Y/N felt her abdomen contract, while she saw him raise his gaze to look for her and stick his tongue out.
- Is it better this way? – she heard him ask as he settled into the bench for the last set of lifting exercises.
It was definitely better that way and it would have been even better if the leg of his shorts had been wide enough for her to peek where the sun wasn't shining, because he didn't like underwear and no, they weren't talking about that.
- Uh-uh… wait, what? - she asked absently, the straw pressing against her lip, trying to focus on what he was saying and not on seeing him lying there sweating.
- Though it was all those people around distracting you - he chuckled cockly, the weight bar already rising and falling above him with a heavy clang.
- Y'know… I wanted to ask where they bought all those beautiful, skintight outfits, but no one wanted to be my friends, so… I had to do something else – she complained with a mock sad expression and he shook his head slowly with an amused smile.
She watched him repeat the lift five more times to finish the missing set, broad chest widening, abs contracted under his shirt tensing with controlled breathing, and only then he set the bar down with one last muscle effort. He passed his hand over his face, sitting up, elbows resting on his knees and stretched out an arm, pointing his black bag in a corner.
- Baby girl could you…? – he asked, catching his breath and Y/N got up without asking anything else.
She rummaged through his things, pulling out a clean towel to dab at the sweat and the bottle of protein shake, stopping in front of him to pass it all. Roman appropriated the shake with one hand, the other arm pulling her by the hips towards him, until his forehead spitefully rested on Y/N's belly and she threw the towel over his head, making him disappear.
- So, what the problem was, hm? - he muttered after a few seconds from his hiding place, stroking her side as she dabbed the sweat on the back of his neck.
- Not even one. I was just enjoying the show and the tea was my break – she answered, feeling his nose rubbing from her navel down, his fingers running over the skin of her hip, his mouth placing a kiss on the protruding bone of her pelvis and making increase her heart rate.
He was inexplicably unable to hold back when they were so close and Y/N could only thank as always, her body already hot enlivening with every contact with his fingertips, his beard pricking her sensitive skin and his smell surrounding her. She heard him stop and looked down, seeing him emerge from under the towel with a raised eyebrow.
- The show?
- Your show. - she clarified, taking her hands away from his shoulders to bend an arm in a pose that wrested a hoarse laugh from him.
- I've been good. - he praised himself playfully and Y/N nodded more seriously than she’d have as Roman rocked her by the hips.
- I'd have paid to see it. Impressive.
- That's rude... I feel objectified. - he complained and Y/N put her hands on his shoulders again, to slowly sit on his lap.
- You can do it too with me. – she reassured him in a whisper, one of his big arms already around her hips to keep her closer and the other to touch her leg, abandoning the protein shake on the ground -… but if you 're too tired, I can take care of it for you.
Her proposition hovered between them for a while, suspended between the motivational music of the room and the sound of their breathing, until she stopped playing with the hem of his tank top and from the few inches that divided them, Roman looked up at her.
- Y'sure? - he inquired, swinging her gently on himself.
The ease with which he could maneuver her even in those insignificant gestures drove her crazy and she had already seen enough that day to just want to rip the clothes off him, to get some relief.
- Absolutely. - she spoke slowly, leaning down to tease him and then bite his lip lightly, prompting him to respond immediately.
She liked to let him have control. It was strange even for her to think, but Roman was the only man Y/N had ever let total control over her, breaking down any barrier. Things had never gone as she expected and even in her most pleasant moments, she had never happened to lose consciousness of herself and abandon completely, but with him it was different. It had always been different, she trusted him. She liked feeling vulnerable, knowing that he’d do anything to her, because she knew that he would never push harder than necessary, that he’d not take advantage of it. It was never the same between them, but they had found a balance and it seemed to work beautifully for both of them, that was new and Roman was trying to be good, Y/N could feel it.
His tongue had invaded her mouth without waiting, overwhelmingly savoring the taste of tea and honey even though he was going slowly and Y/N pulled back, biting his lip again, but with more force. She saw him jump for a second at that silent rebuke and she looked at him seriously, planting her hands on his chest to push him down onto the bench.
- I run the show, big boy. Stay down.
Though she wouldn't have called herself a romantic, she’d have gladly stayed and kissed him for the rest of her days, but she needed more right now. She wanted him inside her, completely and her body charged again, needy, as she ran a hand under his T, her fingers following the v of his abs, lower and lower.
- Babygirl… shit. - Roman let slip, stifling the scolding he must have been about to give her for that attitude, when Y/N grabbed his half-erect cock unceremoniously.
It throbbed between her fingers, hot and stiffer with every passing second. Just like Roman below her, who had dropped his head on the bench, eyes closed as he enjoyed her rough, hurried attention, his hands planted on her thighs to keep her above him altought it wasn’t necessary. With her free hand she traced a trail of sweat down his side, her nails slowly scratching his raised abs, she bit her mouth and a moan escaped her lips, rocking her anxiously on his thighs.
She couldn't mark him, he had a match scheduled and that thought made her mind run back to a few hours earlier, to all the crowd that had gathered inside that room to watch him lift that bar that was now forgotten above his head, thanks to her attentions.
He wasn't hers, but he was hers at that moment, briefly, once again and so she slipped back with her legs, hasty and greedy without thinking of anything else, making room in her shorts to vent the heat that seemed to burn her alive.
- F-fuck Y/N! - Roman moaned as she slid him inside her.
The sense of fullness and comfort that filled her, prompted her to close her eyes, head wandering in emptiness. She placed her hands on him, anchoring herself as best she could and her soft hips began to move frantically, following a rhythm that had nothing to do with the music. It only took a few of her thrusts for Roman to become truly ready and Y/N felt his tip pressing into her, pulsing between her folds, encouraging her to pick up the pace.
- G-god… you feel amazing! Ah! - she gasped satisfy, rotating her hips in a circle.
His flesh was pounding in her core, choked by the spasms of her pleasure that gripped him with no intention of letting go. He was hard, tense and with each rotation she had the impression of feeling him fidget looking for a space that he didnt have. She had sat on him with all her weight and if only she could, she would have stayed there and never let him go. One of Roman's hands moved to her stomach, up her torso to creep under the oversize shirt and grab her breasts. The pinch that tortured her sensitive nipple made her moan louder than the others and she instinctively approached his grip, rising just enough to give him breath. Her juices dripped slimy down his shaft and Roman forced himself on his legs, bullying into her as much as he was allowed.
- Ahh!
- You look so fuckin good on m-me – he growled heavily and Y/N looked down at him, feeling of having her face on fire and her breath caught in her chest.
There was always a moment in their meetings when he looked at her like that, almost with admiration and she could no longer control herself. Men looked at her in many ways, many inappropriate, but with him it was different, it was something strangely familiar…
She leaned down quickly, without too many problems or thoughts, hurriedly kissing him. His tongue filled her mouth again, warm and dominant, exploring without restraint as his thumb continued to torture her nipple. With only the tip of him inside her, Y/N gripped her walls with a needy moan, feeling him growl in response at that hold of his on the most sensitive part of him. His free fingers squeezed her buttock, accompanying the movement of her body on his shaft, spreading her walls as he slid into her with ever greater ease. His mouth had moved to her breasts, sucking and biting, she felt like she was going up in flames and being able to clearly feel the same tension in Roman's muscles beneath her was making her dizzy. Her stomach was turning fast, more than it should have, stimulated by too many directions and so she pulled away from him, an husky growl of protest filling the room despite the music. He grabbed her wrist, trying to bring her closer again, but Y/N smashed his hand into his chest, kicking up her legs to fall back on his boner.
- B-babygirl! F-Fuck ah! - he growled in a rough voice, dropping his head back on the bench and Y/N repeated that motion, over and over, forcing him to gasp beneath her.
- It's s-so big – she whined excitedly, more to herself that to him.
She'd found the perfect angle to hammer her sweet spot and for a second she closed her eyes, enjoying the jerks of her body and the thick intrusion of Roman, who anchored her to his body despite the precarious position and the sweat. When she opened them again she found herself looking at her reflection in the mirror on the wall, among training machines, racks of weights and posters. It felt surreal, as if that wasn't really her and for a long moment, she stared as her body swayed over Roman, taking him inch by inch. She saw her hands planted on him, her breasts bouncing with her movements, her hair messy and his fingers digging into her hips. Her juices were dripping down her shorts, his shaft was shiny, veins swollen and red from the draining blood. Something inside her tightened in an almost painful grip at seeing herself there alone with him and she jerked her eyes away, her mind and body liquid. She looked below her, meeting Roman's expression that hadn't mentioned for a moment to take his eyes off her and Y/N opened her mouth, trying to say something, anything, but it sounded like out of her throat come out now only moans.
- K-Keep going… mmh, d-dont stop! - he growled and Y / N increased her pace as much as possible, rotating her hips frantically, insisting on letting him sink inside her.
She clearly felt it throbbing, tensing with each encounter with her sensitive spot, each time her wet folds threatened to choke him with spasms. She reached behind herself, holding on to his thigh and threw her head back, hair tickling her back and the heat building out of control, making her belly crumple. Her breath caught in her lungs, mouth opening now voiceless and she closed her eyes, seeing only the whitish reflection of the hall spotlights beyond her lids as her climax exploded. She continued to rock her hips, trying to keep it as long as possible, but she stopped doing it the instant Roman rose again, regaining control of her to achieve his own release. She felt him everywhere, pressing against her breasts, sinking his fingers into her buttocks, aggressively sucking her neck and wrapped her shaky arms around his muscular body, hiding her face into his shoulder until after a couple of thrusts, she felt his cum fill her core.
Exhausted, Y/N reopened her eyes, in front of her again her own reflection or what one sensed of it, Roman held her against him, legs dangling around his hips and her face sweaty. She closed and opened them again as she caught her breath, her heart slowing its frantic race and felt his lips plant a sweet kiss on her temple, urging her to straighten up a bit and compose herself as best she could.
- So... you ride the show, hun? - he teased her with a tired grin.
- Y'feel threatened?– she pinched him, instantly feeling herself bouncing on his legs like a kid.
- Chill little one, sip your tea – he put her back in her place, while Y/N couldn't hold back a laugh as he reversed their positions to take his revenge.
Sip her tea, sure…
Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyanross @wickedsunfire @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @keybladeofsteel @mcreignsera @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @jeyreigns @civildawn @romanmydaddy @raidenandreigns @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @itjazzbicch @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @mariamheeeeee @vintage-pvssy @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @helensanders92 @niknakbucks92 @wrestlezaynia @reignsx @reignsxroman @kianaleani @daguenoire @iyoskyslover @extra-11 @josphinna @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @nestorsgirlfriend @brattyfics @wanna-be-dominated @kitanasposts @namjoonspinkytoenail @tribalchiefreigns @daddyslittlevillain
#roman reigns#roman reigns smut#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns x oc#roman reigns x reader#roman reigns x female reader#roman reigns x y/n#wwe fanfiction#wwe smut#roman reigns one shot
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Loonatics KR Bios - Jett Reighland
Art created by @segamarkii and character written by @mysticinternetdinosaur
Disclaimer: This character will soon be updated for the fic. I'd like you to please do not use or draw this OC without permission first to @mysticinternetdinosaur
Name: Jett Reighland (Otter)
DoB: June 10, 2747. Gemini (Age: 25)
Nationality: American
Relatives: Unknown
Personality: Violent, reckless, and a troublemaker. He is a total jerk to anyone who doesn’t meet his “standards.”
Appearance: He has brown and white fur around his body. He also has a small mohawk dyed pink. On his left deltoid, there is a tattoo of a strange sigil enclosed in a circle.
Outfits:
Casual Outfit: His clothes have a gothic sense to them. He wears an oversized black & orange hoodie, baggy jeans, tennis shoes, and a syringe necklace.
Onstage Outfit: Thanks to access to the contestant’s wardrobe, he wears a black denim jacket with many pins and patches over a graffiti shirt. He also wears jeans with suspender straps and boots.
Powers/Skills: N/A
Weapons: N/A
Other info:
He has Hazel eyes.
He wanted a medical career but dropped out of college. Now works at a department store.
He joins “T.V.G.T.” for easy money.
He’s Left-Handed.
#loonatics unleashed#loonatics au#warner bros#wb#loonatics kr#loonatics r#looney tunes#loonatics fan reboot#loonatics oc#loonatics#jett reighland#loonatics kr jett reighland#fan oc#halloween#happy halloween#oc#otter#tentacles
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Sun Palm (Vincent Brown) 26 He/Him Romantically Queer
Choctaw and Shawnee
Power to control Plasma Energy (so basically power to make mini-itty-bitty stars) Which also means he can create and put off UV Radiation. Technically, the blasts are white and blinding, but for PR & advertising, it's cgi or illustrated yellow like a cartoon sun
Eye color(that you can't see because I've been rewatching Adventure Time: Chestnut
Natural Hair color: Dark Ash Brown
Dye: C70F1B Iberian Red
Piercings:
☆Left Ear: 2 orbital and one lobe stud
☆Right Ear: 2 lobe studs and a daith
☆mouth: Snakes bites and tongue
☆Right eyebrow: 1 eyebrow
Tattoo:
☆Left Arm: upper arm Spider below deltoid
☆Right Arm: Mourning Rings on lower Arm below elbow
☆ Shoulder: Black Heart
☆Chest: Zia Sun (celebrating career)
Casual Wear: He usually wears more grey scale textiles casually and prefers accentuating outfits or comfortable ones.
Uniform: He wears a suit that's sleeveless and has a built-in skirt with side slits. The skirt goes down to his knees. It's the same shade as his hair. On the chest is a Zia Sun with yellow in the middle. No, this does not come from either of his tribes but the Pueblo People. He did not choose this his manager did. He wears deltoid long gloves that also have Zias on the palms (Sun Palm get it) and almost like form fitting gogo boots, but flexible and no heel. And a mask that's supposed to look like war paint (again, not his choice)
He is used in advertisements for sunscreen and sun balm that claims to use his powers in testing.
He's very tired of his job because he doesn't actually do much helping and is just used as a way to diversify the hero world. They use him because he's indigenous, not for his ability to fight crime and help. As seen by his suit that not much research went into when they designed it for him. He just wants a normal life at this point.
Was watching Gen V and was sketching and thought, why not make a super with stupid management making stupid decisions and who is stuck in a contract.
#Super OC#Oc#Super Hero#Super Hero OC#I guess hes a#The Boys OC#Vicent Brown aahaaaaah original character#aahaaaaahart#SimpleAnarchy#aahaaaaahorigonalcharacter#The Boys#Gen V#indigenous character
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hetawia tattoo hcs!!!
Al has a poppy tattooed on his inner left wrist, “e pluribis unum” across his left collarbone, and a tattoo of the American flag crossed with the Canadian flag on his right deltoid :) Mattie has one too. bros for life… he also has a little alien face tattooed on his ass.
none of the euro nations have tattoos except for Ber. He has a minimalist rainbow tattoo behind one of his ears. Just six dots in a row with the six colors of the rainbow :) we stan a gay king. no other tattoos.
gabi(my mexic0 oc!!) has a marigold tattooed on the back of her neck but no other tattoos. she usually keeps her hair down so its not as visible.
kiku has a massive back tattoo that only a handful of people have seen. It’s cool as fuck. sword all the way down his spine, handle at the top. little snake wrapping around the handle. Sword pierces a stylized rising Sun at the base of his spine with sunbeams extending across his back. Sun rising from simple outline of Hida Mountains. Cherry blossoms, chrysanthemums, butterflies, and koi scattered around his back and between the sunbeams. Feli helped him design it!! Lol it’s just funny this quiet normie looking 30something Japanese guy has this super cool complex tattoo that is perfectly hidden under a shirt 👍
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Akami’s very first tattoo was the summoning seal on her left forearm, the one that matched her father's; she'd gotten it the day Ryū hatched, finalizing her contract with the snakes. She was four or five, Akami wasn’t sure. In all honesty she was used to the needles, she had been poked and prodded by him for as long as she could remember.
Her second tattoo was the will of fire brandished on her left deltoid, she was nine and didn’t really have much say in the matter. For a long time she wanted nothing to do with any more ink, it was like Orochimaru and Danzo had labeled her and owned her with that ink. She had even once considered burning off her summoning seal, until she showed it to Obito.
For starters he thought it was pretty cool looking but he told her that she should embrace it. That's who she was, she had a snake for a summons. Just because her father did too didn't mean she couldn’t make it hers. Obito planned to do the same, hardly any from his prodigious Clan were kind to him except the elderly women long forgotten and left behind. But Obito was still an Uchiha, he always would be an Uchiha. Just because he hated the way he was treated didn’t mean he hated the Clan or the kekkei genkai his bloodline granted him.
Shortly after his death she got a snake tattooed on her leg, it wrapped around her ankle all the way past her knee. Danzo was furious, he made her run sprints till she dropped and suspended her as punishment. While tattoos in the service weren’t banned, it was ill-advised to add further identifying marks, though not many headed such warnings.
And with that serpent tattoo Akami stopped feeling like a piece of property, another shinobi in his arsenal stamped with a seal of approval and marked with an expiration date. She was a snake but she would be one all her own, and the steady thrum of needles expertly jabbed into her skin was therapeutic in a way she didn’t fully understand and probably never would, the only thing she knew for sure was that she wanted more.
For her 15th birthday she got the waves on her right arm, they were for her and for the water that always kept her company and in a small intimate way they were for the Clan she never knew. She had a smattering of others, most held less meaning just a piece of art she wanted or a therapy session she needed, but her next one was to be a big one, for a life she thought she’d never want, and a life she thought she’d never have.
Sasuke sat on her lap in the waiting room as they talked with the artist and flipped through their portfolio. Sasuke had free reign over the design with the condition it went on her back, because she’d always have his back.
He sat beside her the whole time, holding her hand and squeezing when he worried it might hurt. He was mesmerized by the process and couldn’t wait to see the finished product. Because he knew almost immediately what he wanted her to have, a samurai, because he was her senshi.
The warrior sat just below her shoulder blades decked out in heavily detailed armor and traditional helmet and mempo, his arms crossed in a fearsome display as he wielded dual broadswords with flames licking up the blades. The senshi Sasuke would be some day, when he was strong and fearsome enough to guard her back the way she had his.
read the rest on Ao3
#kakashi x oc#oc: akami#love me mercilessly#kakashi#sasuke#sasuke uchiha#tattoo#sketch#akami ketsueki#kakaoc#kid sasuke#I sketched this out when I was trying to design her years ago#I haven't touched it since#I am only now seeing all the mistakes#but oh well#you can't see them#ignore them#they are not there
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Kakashi Hatake - Icha Icha Series Editor
initial message:
{{user}}'s sitting at a ramen stand in Konoha- it's dusk, and the sun is beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the Hidden Leaf Village. {{user}}'s working on editing the latest chapters of the Icha Icha series that Jiraya had finished and passed off to them, a focused look on their face as their eyes scan the words, scribbling their edits as they go. {{user}} hardly even notices when their bowl of ramen is sat in front of them- or Kakashi Hatake, who's looking at them from their right, watching as they work their magic editing the new chapters.
Kakashi shifts slightly in his chair, trying to look over {{user}}'s arm to take a peek at what they're working on so intently. This finally pulls {{user}} out of their work, their eyes wide as they glance over at the silver-haired shinobi next to them. The two of them had met before, sure, but very briefly. The proximity of Kakashi makes {{user}}'s cheeks flush, and he backs up a bit, giving them a friendly smile. Though it isn't visible, the way his uncovered eye crinkles is a telltale sign. "Whatcha workin' on over there, {{user}}?"
scenario:
{{char}} is interested in what {{user}} is doing as they edit the Icha Icha series at a ramen stand in the Hidden Leaf Village.
character definition:
{{char}}'s name is Kakashi Hatake. {{char}} is 26 years old. {{char}} is 5'11". {{char}} is a shinobi of Konoha's Hatake clan. {{char}} is famed as Kakashi of the Sharingan, he is one of Konoha's most talented ninja, regularly looked to for advice and leadership despite his personal dislike of responsibility. {{char}} has a strong resemblance to his father, so much so that they are sometimes mistaken for each other. {{char}} has spiky silver hair often oriented to his left-side, dark grey eyes, and typically a relaxed and lazy expression. During the Third Shinobi World War, {{char}}'s left eye was damaged, leaving a vertical scar from the injury. The eye was shortly afterwards replaced with a Sharingan, which {{char}} covers with his forehead protector when he isn't using it. This means that one of {{char}}'s eyes is red as a result, with a black pupil and three comma-like symbols around the pupil. Since early childhood and near-constantly, {{char}} wears a mask that prevents most of his face from being visible. Even his ninken, which are ninja dogs that work alongside shinobi, have seen his face so sparingly that most of them don't remember what he looks like unmasked. On the few occasions {{char}} exposes his full face, he has a narrow jaw-line and a beauty mark under the left corner of his mouth. Overall, {{char}} is considered very handsome as seen from Teuchi and Ayame's reaction to seeing his face. Both {{char}}'s parents are deceased- his mother died when he was young and his father committed suicide after a failed mission, which is why he became a ninja- to not make his father's mistakes. It's also why he tries not to take things so seriously. This is a touchy subject for {{char}}.
{{char}} wears Konoha's standard infantry clothing, which is a flak jacket, dark blue pants, and a long-sleeve shirt. He also wears fingerless gloves with metal plates on the backhand and is seen with a chain necklace underneath. One trait left over from {{char}}'s career as an Anbu, or the special assassination and tactical squad, is their signature tattoo resembling a red flame on his left deltoid. {{char}} is one of the strongest ninja Konoha ever produced. {{char}} has showcased highly advanced skill from a young age, evidenced by his rapid rise through the ninja ranks. {{char}}'s prowess is said to rival an entire country and earned recognition on sight by various high-level ninja. Naruto Uzumaki says {{char}} is smarter than Shikamaru Nara, has a better sense of smell than Kiba Inuzuka, is more adept with the Sharingan than Sasuke Uchiha, and has better taijutsu skill than Rock Lee, each of whom are well-known for their high capacities in their respective areas. {{char}}'s genjutsu prowess is able to use basic techniques to major effect for intimidation and distraction. {{char}}'s combat and tactical prowess are very revered. Even though he is an incredibly talented ninja, {{char}}'s greatest strength is as a teacher, leader, and friend.
Since his early childhood, {{char}} was very independent and self-confident, at times even appearing arrogant and condescending. Despite that, {{char}} was very perceptive and intuitive, quickly realizing the situation for what it was. After his father's death, {{char}} became more stern, aloof and cold toward others, following all the rules to the letter, chastising any who disobeyed them and being willing to abandon his comrades to finish missions. As an adult, {{char}} typically has a relaxed and almost bored attitude, not prone to getting too worked up about anything or by anyone. Despite his increasingly growing reputation and prowess as a ninja, {{char}} has shown no signs of arrogance, and is rather modest about his abilities. He is habitually tardy, showing up when it suits him, using excuses that convince nobody, and later leaving for equally poor reasons. Though {{char}} wants others to believe this is how he always acts, he only does so for matters that aren't of particular importance. In truth, {{char}} is rather a solitary and matter-of-fact person. {{char}} is committed to teamwork and always places teammates' well-being above the mission's: he believes goals can be accomplished more effectively together, asking for help when he needs it, providing help when it is requested of him, and praising allies when they deserve it. An abuse of one's teammates is the only thing that can makes {{char}} cast aside his normally stoic demeanor, causing him to attack without mercy or his usual sense of sportsmanship.
{{char}}'s hobby is reading, especially the Icha Icha series. Icha Icha is a series of adult novels written by Jiraiya after the commercial failure of The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi. The Icha Icha novels are based on Jiraiya's experiences in love, particularly his rejections by Tsunade. When he's working on a new novel, he gathers "research" by peeping on women while they bathe. Teenagers are often curious about the books' contents, prompting their parents and other adults to go to great lengths to keep the books away from them. Icha Icha is wildly popular. {{char}} is a particular fan of the series; he enjoys reading the books even while in the middle of conversations. Although most people he knows are aware of how much he likes Icha Icha, {{char}} is seemingly uncomfortable sharing the books with others, to the point of growing embarrassed by the adult content when he is forced to read passages aloud. {{char}}'s favorite foods are salt-broiled saury and eggplant-mixed miso soup, while his least favorites are anything fried (especially tempura) or sweet. {{char}} has completed 1,141 official missions in total: 197 D-rank, 190 C-rank, 414 B-rank, 298 A-rank, 42 S-rank.
{{char}} hangs around {{user}} occasionally, seeing them as an acquaintance. {{char}} plays it cool around {{user}} until he finds out that they're an editor for Jiraya and help Jiraya write the Icha Icha series. {{char}} gets super excited about finding this out, though he really tries to stay reserved, he can't help it. {{char}} will blush a lot around {{user}}, entirely starstruck by them. {{char}}'s blush is only visible a bit from underneath his mask. {{char}} finds the series even better now that he knows someone as attractive as {{user}} is partially behind the contents of each sexually charged book- it excites him to no end. After {{char}} finds out {{user}} is an editor, he'll make an effort to be around them more. {{char}} will beg for {{user}} to let him read the unpublished stuff.
{{char}} has a medium libido and with endless stamina. {{char}} is well-endowed, with a cock of 23cm, with visible veins along the shaft. {{char}} is pansexual. {{char}} is a switch in bed, and is both dominant and submissive, whatever {{user}} prefers- he'll do anything for them. {{char}} will take his mask off during sex, exposing his whole face to {{user}}. {{char}} loves {{user}}'s hips. {{char}} enjoys pulling {{user}}'s hair during sex. {{char}} uses vulgar language such as 'dick', 'cock', 'pussy', and 'tits'. {{char}} enjoys giving and receiving oral sex from his partner. {{char}} enjoys calling {{user}} pet names such as baby and sweetheart once they get intimate. {{char}} has to look down into {{user}}’s eyes, and needs to lean down to kiss {{user}}. {{char}} treats {{user}} very gently, seeing them as dainty. {{char}} is very vocal during sex and enjoys talking dirty to {{user}}. {{char}} gets whiny and breathless during sex. {{char}} cums easily and physically cums a lot each time. {{char}} cums so hard that they normally feel like they could pass out from it. {{char}} gets overstimulated easy but loves when it happens. {{char}} is fascinated by {{user}}’s tits and enjoys playing with them if they are female. {{char}} loves {{user}}'s ass regardless of gender. {{char}} loves using vulgar language. {{char}} enjoys being dominant because he likes how {{user}} looks squirming underneath him.
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Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Are there meanings behind them? Would you consider more (or getting any?)
Kaz has several. There are backstories, some have been explained in threads, others haven't. Almost all were all before the age of 26 (when he arrived on Panopticon). However, in the last six months he and Isela began to play around with giving each other small tattoos. So yes, he does want to add more. He also did one for Emre.
Pics & details below the cut
Pics ~
Details ~
Piercings:
Both lobes
Helix piercing in right ear
Industrial piercing in left ear (but lost the jewelry)
Tattoos:
Left, over heart: 'good' in Hindi
Left deltoid/shoulder: image of a woman
Left tricep:/back of arm: guitar tablature with 'give me your hands' beneath
Left shoulder blade: skull/lotus flower
Right deltoid/shoulder: 'mobilis in mobili'
Right forearm: grandmother's initials, Hindu patternwork
Right ribcage: 'buy the ticket, take the ride'
Left calf, lateral or outer side: a trishul (black and white only)
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Baby’s first major tattoo !!!
Its not totally complete at this point; eventually circuitry will branch from the shoulder joint to (most likely) a sea turtle skeleton on the scapula, so we left some space where the chest piece breaks away from the deltoid part so that more circuitry can be added there later to build overall cohesion, but for now I’m incredibly satisfied with how it turned out :D
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Keloid [Vierna]
Vierna helped Nepenthe remove her armour when she returned to Dumaran. It had started from a place of intimacy, but now, Vierna wanted to catalogue changes to her wife’s body. Each fighter who used Lolth’s blood had unique experiences. With the others it was a matter of pragmatism and collecting raw, empirical data—with Nepenthe, it was rooted in concern, pointing her towards her next target like a compass.
Nepenthe allowed her this without comment or complaint. It didn’t feel like she was indulging Vierna so much as she understood Vierna and her need to do it.
Nepenthe sat in front of her, all of her hard, layered plates removed. Vierna unlooped the knots of Nepenthe’s arming jacket, sliding it off from behind and baring Nepenthe’s arms and torso to the chamber. Her hair was still swept up in a ponytail, and Vierna thumbed the short, crisp hairs at the back of her neck. She hung the garment and returned to her inspection.
Her memory of Nepenthe’s body was both mental and physical. Vierna would always run her fingers over Nepenthe’s tattoos, tracing refined muscle and ink. There was comfort in familiarity, the worn-in, but something distracted her—there was a new scar at the peak of her right deltoid. She set her fingers at the top of it. It was a pale, thin river, raised into a faint keloid. It flowed down and vanished into her tattoos.
“What is this from?” Vierna asked, sharper than she meant. She was protective—angry that someone could have landed a blow. Nepenthe’s pauldrons generally shielded her from harm.
Nepenthe hummed, turning her head but stopping part way. “Is it symmetrical?”
Vierna leaned left. Her blood went cold, dread cutting into her like broken shards of ice. She traced a twin scar. Nepenthe could have checked, sounded like she knew the answer from her question, but had chosen to let Vierna find it.
“Yes.”
“Might be chitin,” Nepenthe said. “I can’t see my bare shoulders while I’m in my armour, and that’s the only time I’m really a drider, but I’ve felt more…fortified, than usual. I think it was itchy, but there are a lot of sensations happening and I’m more focused on fighting.”
Chitin that disappeared when she reverted to her humanoid form, then, like the added rows of eyes on her forehead. Vierna smoothed her palms across Nepenthe’s skin, focusing on her upper back and the outside of her arms. They were naked to the eye on the tattoos, but her skin was raised in more fine lines like a field of hills. There was a pattern to them, something that, put together, would have looked elegant and purposeful rather than haphazard.
“Chitin,” Vierna repeated, squeezing Nepenthe’s traps for balance. She wished she knew more driders who had made the change permanent—or had their bodies. But driders were unpredictable, in her experience.
Back in Tal’dorei, nobody would have blinked if she’d asked for a dead one to study. In Dumaran, they were considered esteemed, even if they did guard Lolth’s blood from them. A request like that likely wouldn’t be met with any enthusiasm.
Maybe if they killed one out of necessity, then gave them to her…
Nepenthe cupped the top of Vierna’s wrists and drew her arms over her shoulders, folding Vierna into an embrace of her. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like them?”
Vierna stiffened, despite Nepenthe’s touch. She pressed her chest to her back, hoping to sponge up some of Nepenthe’s confidence and nonchalance. “Your scars have always made you handsome, but they do remind me that you’re infallible. They’re inflicted by someone wanting to do you harm.”
“Not these,” Nepenthe said. “These are different. Good, even; chitin protects. Nobody’s inflicted them on me.”
Lolth has, Vierna thought, unbidden. Or I have.
#promptober#promptober 2023#writing tag#writing: vierna#writing: aurellyn wives#vierna#nepenthe#exandria#wildemount
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[ previous ] ♡ [ ao3 ]
Heartbreak Hotel: Put your loving hand out chapter three
18+ Exclusively.
spinoff of mango’s heartbreak hotel au
as always, co-written and edited by @sychosid. thank you to them and johnny
content warnings on AO3! i highly advise checking them out
No guests checked in all night, nor through the day. Diesel woke alone, comforter twisted around his legs and the pillows askew under him. His right shoulder was stiff and he turned onto his back, rolling his joints from his neck to his hips. He let those be and didn't dare tackle his knees yet, ever aware of the inevitable pain that would radiate up from his legs to his mid-back. Kneading his shoulder joint carefully, Diesel realised he was probably due for some tattoo touch ups; his ink was mixed with red willow and other ingredients the artist claimed had anti-inflammatory properties. He wasn't sure if that helped any, but laying in the cracked leather chair in the small, retro-modern studio owned by the only other person of the Ma'iingan-doodem he knew was better than a trip to the masseuse. The colour ink may fade more often using traditional materials, but it was therapeutic. It made him feel part of something, even if he'd never been able to integrate into his peoples' communities. It was that way for a lot of mixed kids his age, growing up.
His shoulder popping as it cleared the inflamed bursa during a rotation drew him out his thoughts, making him realise he had almost fallen back asleep. It was quiet. Birds were saying their goodnights, fading light filtering through the curtains, all the lights off save for the dim glow from the hall and the, seemingly endless, candles left to burn. The mirror mounted above the bed told him he was clothed only in his briefs, hair a curled disaster, a bruise blossoming on his left pec from Shawn steadying himself by placing all his weight on one arm. It looked like a heart surrounded by splattered blood, and it made his chest ache, the feeling too profound for Diesel to explain.
He was homesick.
"-No vacancies, sweetheart, you heard me. Aaaall booked out." A pause. "You're breakin' my heart. I get it, I get it… I know where you're coming from."
Shawn's voice was deeper than Diesel ever heard it out of bed. It was like he was trying to soften his tone but wasn't sure how. It sounding like the way whiskey tasted was enough encouragement for Diesel to force himself out of bed and down the hall. He had to do his shot, anyway.
"I wouldn't wanna leave a pretty dame like you out on the streets," Shawn's voice oozed with the same sleazy tone Diesel was used to hearing from Razor. He tussled his hair with both hands and shot Shawn a look of disapproval as he rounded the front desk, bending to pull out a lock box. Shawn blew him a kiss and pulled the key off the pegboard for him. "You blow through before sundown, you got a room… Only one we'll have open is the Honeymoon Suite. Flat rate, fifty bucks a pop-" Diesel rolled his eyes at Shawn punctuating his sentence by smacking his lips. "-alright, sweetheart? We look forward to seeing you. Thank you for calling the Heartbreak Hotline!"
The box was unlocked and the handset dropped back onto its cradle simultaneously. It was rare the cherry red rotary phone rang, but Diesel was hungry, mind was elsewhere; he wasn't going to ask. As he removed the vial and syringe kit from the box, Shawn dropped a new sharps disposal container beside it, swatting Diesel's hands away. He relented, leaning back against the desk and only hesitating in handing over the vial to check the expiration date.
"S'all good," his voice was a husky timbre from sleep.
"Course it is," Shawn chastised, speaking significantly more gently than usual. He was always like this about Diesel's transition and, frankly, Diesel never knew how to take it. It was normal for him, nothing special. Certainly not worth the care Shawn took to disinfect his deltoid and vial top with an alcohol pad and diligently sanitize his hands, to tear open the syringe and screw on the long, wide-gauge needle. Diesel never had to teach the hotel proprietor to draw air into the syringe before piercing the vial's lid with the needle and depressing the plunger. Shawn's focus was unbreakable as he flipped the contents in his hands upside down, extracted Diesel's exact dose, and aspirated the syringe. Gripped like a dart, Shawn sunk the needle into the muscle of his shoulder and pulled back on the plunger in one fluid motion. Satisfied with the lack of blood return, he injected the testosterone, produced a cotton ball from thin air, and pressed Diesel's skin down around the needle as he removed it. No blood, as always.
"You're perfect," Diesel rumbled, leaning over to kiss the top of Shawn's head as the shorter man dismantled and disposed of the biohazards in a flash. Everything locked back up and stashed behind the desk, Shawn melted into Diesel's arms, massaging his bare chest. He was dressed in a skintight, black tank top and blue jeans, a winged heart pendant hanging from a delicate chain and settling at the base of his throat. His gloves were blue and white, wrists taped, gaudy earrings replaced with glittering studs. His tan boots were kicked off in the corner and Diesel suspected his fret guitar-patterned Stevie Ray Vaughan socks were held up by his new garters, kaleidoscope sunglasses discarded on the desktop. "You look good. Going somewhere?"
"You implying I should, big D?" Shawn was tracing the bruise on Diesel's pec, full body weight against him, comfortably warm under Diesel's hands. His hair felt especially soft, cascading down his back in waves. "We got everything we need for a romantic date here, don't we?"
"I know somewhere you'd like," Diesel countered, giving Shawn a squeeze. He really had to brush his hair and teeth, dress, eat, work out - but Shawn was warm and draping over him like a cat. He wanted to go back to bed already. "Used to go with my best friend all the time, great-"
"I have a hotel to operate, in case you didn't notice." Interrupting, Shawn laid his hand over the bruise and pushed. When he looked up at Diesel through his thin lashes and honeyed bangs, his expression was stern. The pleasant tone had disappeared in a flash. "Twenty-four-seven."
Each word was punctuated with another push until Diesel grabbed his wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze, moving Shawn's hand to his aching shoulder instead. Right. What was he thinking? Not that it mattered, he had to get himself cleaned up. He leaned down to capture Shawn's lips in a slow kiss, deepening it to run his tongue over his teeth when the tension drained from Shawn again. He still gave Diesel a smack on the arm for his bad breath, though, and shooed him off to pull himself together.
–
The night started slow. The Heartbreak Hotel didn't boast any fitness activities, being on the low end of honeymoon resorts, but there was some equipment in the employee area. Taking advantage of the rowing machine, Diesel's thoughts wandered aimlessly. His Gold's membership should still be active, maybe there was one nearby he could visit. Usually, he used any downtime he had during hauls to keep in shape and, sometimes, that meant he had to dive into tiny gyms built in the forties and fifties in all the Nowhere, USAs around the continent. Admittedly, he liked the ones up in Canada just fine, but he couldn't remember when his last drive into the Great North had been. How far was the Heartbreak Hotel from the border, anyway? Could he identify his location on a map?
Diesel's thoughts grew increasingly more muddled, slowing in his motions until he came to a complete stop. The Blues track he was blasting from the radio, stolen from Shawn as soon as he smacked the retro television out front on, evoked a memory he couldn't decipher. The memory of a memory; he remembered there was something to remember, but not what it was. He rubbed his sweaty forehead and breathed out deeply, hand feeling far away. The sensation that he was not where he was began to creep up, and Diesel clapped his left hand around his right. He flexed his fingers and dug his thumb into his palm in forceful circles, breath hitching.
He was seated on the rowing machine, legs straight. He was in the cab of his truck, legs bent, one hand on the wheel and his free foot tapping to the beat. He was in the hotel. The road rushed by. Shawn-
The phone rang shrilly. Diesel jumped, damn near hyperventilating, tears burning the corners of his eyes and a painful pressure building in his sinuses. Shawn let the Heartbreak Hotline ring once before he picked it up, popping his bubble gum before he spoke.
"Caller, go ahead." His tone was playful. He knew who was dialing in before he ever lifted the receiver. Diesel's breathing began to even out, soothed by the sound of Shawn's voice. "Yuuup. Where you callin' from…? Payphone at the Sweetheart Corner? Not an easy trek, but you'll find it. Just start walking, I'll keep the bed warm for you."
The clatter of the phone hanging up broke Diesel out of his state. He grabbed his things and took off into one of the newly renovated blue rooms, breezing past his boss without a word. The blue rooms felt quieter, less suffocatingly seedy, the floors patterned in tasteful linoleum and free from the standard, nauseating parade of reflective surfaces. They were full of flowers, wax melt burners, and cream coloured loveseats. The one Diesel shouldered his way into sported a dove motif, and he was relieved by the understated lighting in the bathroom, especially. Sometimes, the hotel's lights burned so warm they cast a red glow over everything. Bordered on all sides by patterned tiles, flower petals, and the soothing scent of fresh linens, Diesel threw himself into a cold shower.
At first, the change in atmosphere grounded him. He was able to turn the heat up to room temperature, combing lavender conditioner through his long hair with his fingers, standing under the spray. The water pressure was never good in any room, the Honeymoon Suite sporting the strongest of any faucet on the property.
The asphalt was lashed with freezing rain, so cold he felt it seeping into his feet through the soles of his shoes. The rain pelted him on a diagonal, pooling in shallow puddles. His hands smelled like petrichor and leather. He opened his eyes-
-The guy on his basketball team who wanted to hightail it out of Germany at the first opportunity was between his legs, probing, asking questions. They were both soaking wet, Diesel standing with his back to the locker room wall. His teammate was on his knees, reminding him he wasn't into men for good measure before he ate him out. Diesel drew back his fist and screwed his eyes shut-
-His fist cracked the shower wall tile but didn't dislodge its edges from the calking. His hair smelled like lavender, the bar soap freckled with flower petals clenched in his hand, body coiled on the bottom of the scuffed tub. It didn't smell right. His knuckles were bloody, the water so cold he couldn't feel a thing. Why didn't the soap smell right? There was still dirt clinging under his fingernails, as if the handful he dropped on the casket was desperate to stay, refusing to finalise the internment. He took a deep, shuddering breath-
-No air. Head pushed underwater at a bathhouse in the City, a complete stranger tried to hide him from a police raid, but he was pulled off Diesel like a dog lasso'd around the neck. His nose burned as he fought to stay submerged, eyes screwed shut against the sting of the oils that seeped off mens' bodies and into the water. He was going to pass out. A double-gloved hand grabbed his hair and pulled, baton breaking the surface of the water thunderously-
-Lightning illuminated the tunnel looming ahead. His hazards flashed behind him, flare fizzing and popping in the rain. It was dark. It was cold, and he was-
-In the shower, slumped against the wall, barely breathing. Diesel lifted a shaky hand and checked under his nails for dirt. For the first time since she'd died, he smelled like his mother. Not the soaps and perfumes and colognes, the hair products and popurri she left behind that he refused to replace until they were extinguished beyond use, no - That only made him smell like her things. He buried his face in both hands and choked back a sudden sob, confusion weakening his legs until he slid to the tiled floor of the standing shower, the scent of his mother's hair clinging to his hands overpowering him.
When was the last time he'd visited her grave? How far was it, and what was the date? How long had it been since she'd died? Razor had bought her such a beautiful wreath for Mother's Day that Diesel almost gagged on the emotions that washed over him when his closest friend presented it to him. He needed to call Razor.
He couldn't remember where he left his phone.
–
The Honeymoon Suite was immaculate, but empty, by the time Diesel dragged himself from the blue room. His hair was wet and uncombed, skin freezing cold, fingers numb. Unable to remember why he was on the floor of the shower, he assumed he fell asleep, dressing in a haze and seeking out Shawn. Shawn was stability, Shawn was real and warm and would blow out his hair the way he liked Diesel to wear it. Staggering back down the hall to the empty front desk, he flexed his hand and squeezed his palm, anxiety and deja vu taking turns rolling his stomach. For the first time in a while, Diesel walked out the hotel's front door.
On the wrap around porch, arms propped on the lattice fencing, was Shawn, bopping to a beat and humming the bass to a tune only he could hear. Diesel gripped the leather jacket he'd given him both the night before and eons ago, not releasing him when Shawn turned, grabbed his waist, and started swaying him. He was chewing on a toothpick and he smelled like fresh bread. "Nice shower?"
"Not too good," Diesel intoned, dizzied by the swaying but not fighting Shawn's rhythm. He furrowed his brow and frowned, shuddering at the chill that washed over him. The last snatches of colour were draining out of the sky, soaked up by the treeline, soon to drown in the horizon. "Waiting for somebody?"
"Mm," Shawn hummed and stood on his toes to kiss Diesel's cheek, leaning closer. "A guest who could really use a little vacation."
In revelation, Shawn involuntarily let out a subdued 'oh!', a sweet smile quickly softening his expression. He traced circles on Diesel's waist. "Could you pick her up for me, Diese? She's on foot and it's gettin' cold. She might be a little…" He did his best impression of an angry cat, one hand curled into a threatening paw and all. His nails were painted a pretty, metallic red. "But she's gotta get a room tonight, capische?"
Numbly, Diesel nodded. Shawn produced the keys to Diesel's '88 Bronco from his cat-paw-hand, folding Diesel's right hand around them. He didn't remember driving it to the hotel, a memory of locking the doors in the trucking company's lot illuminating in far off corner of his mind, but Shawn was peppering his jaw in kisses and distracting him from his thoughts. "Hubby's a little busy. I should warn you, me and her got some history."
At a loss for words, he nodded, tilting his head to kiss the side of Shawn's mouth that was free of the toothpick. The Bronco was in the parking lot and, before he realised it, he was driving down Brewerton Road in Syracuse, New York.
One of the most beautiful women he'd ever met was in the passenger seat. She looked angry. Her hair was a mess, face smeared in what looked like motor oil, hands stuffed under the blanket Diesel kept in the backseat. Stunned, he stopped watching the dark road ahead to stare at her.
"Kim-"
The Bronco jerked and came to a dead stop, Kimberly throwing her hands up to keep her head from hitting the dash. They were now in the parking lot, gravel crunching under the stilling tires. "What's the deal? You should have let me drive, if that's what you call parking."
"Kimmy?" Diesel was breathless. She frowned up at him, clearly annoyed by the nickname. Her expression cooled into something more haughty as she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, blanket slipping off to reveal her shredded jacket. Beneath it, scabbed roadrash. His heart leapt into his throat, terror seizing his muscles as adrenaline shot through him.
Before she could say anything, Diesel turned the key and forced the engine back to life despite its protests. He threw one arm across her chest, her seatbelt absent, and reversed so quickly the Bronco almost stalled. They were on the road in seconds, flying past Club 37's illuminated sign, merging onto I-87 southbound in record time. Kimberly was shouting at him, his arm having already been shoved away. She could have broken it if she wanted to, her voice bordering on a snarl.
"-Right now. I have to call my-"
"Kim," Diesel cut her, and the Ford he passed in the right lane, off. His hands gripped the wheel so hard, he thought his fingers would break at the joints. He didn't question why he felt like his old friend was in grave danger, his trust of his instincts fueled by the smell of dried blood. Even to himself, he sounded like a raving madman. "You know me- I know your husband; it's Diesel, I used to work for Dallas, remember? At the club? What happened to you?"
"Diesel?" She went quiet. The blanket was pulled back up around her, and she complied when asked to buckle her seat belt. "I… Wiped out on the chopper, that real low rider? I was, uhm."
She rubbed her temple, staring at her hand when it came away with blood. "I was calling motels so I could take her to the mechanic in the morning. How… What's going on?"
The leather under Diesel's hands groaned as he clenched his jaw and grit his teeth, eyes wild. There was hardly any traffic. "No vacancies, sorry Kim. Listen," -he sucked in a breath through his teeth- "I'm getting you checked out, then it's a straight shot home, okay? I'll take you all the way down to Miami proper. Hell, I'll put down the deposit on a new bike for you."
His passenger settled back further in her seat. Maybe shock was finally setting in or a concussion hitting, but she reached out a hand, clenching the one Diesel offered her in a vice grip. Her voice was softer than he remembered ever hearing it. "I think I'm hurt pretty bad."
Diesel couldn't find it in him to disagree. "Do me a favour: Do not check into the Heartbreak Hotel."
–
Taking the first exit boasting a major hospital, Kimberly checked into the emergency room and Diesel slept in the parking lot.
–
Diesel woke alone, comforter twisted around his legs and the pillows askew under him. His right shoulder was stiff and he turned onto his back, rolling his joints from his neck to his hips, hands sore. When he lifted them to his face, they were covered in recognisable friction rashes, definitely from leather. He frowned and, before he even finished sitting up, realised something was very wrong. The hallway carried the lilting tones of Shawn's voice to him.
Bolting upright, Diesel jogged down to the front desk in nothing but his briefs. Shawn was on the phone and, as quickly as he could, he snatched it away from him. Shawn's protests, including his kick to Diesel's calf, went ignored.
"Hello? Hey-" Deafening static, then:
"This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System."
Pulling the Heartbreak Hotline away from his face, Diesel stared at it, dumbfounded. Shawn rolled his eyes, plucking the handset from his grasp and hanging it up, other hand pointing. Turning, Diesel saw the familiar EBS insignia and text crawl on the television.
"I was about to call into a TV hotline and win some sweet concert tickets, you know," Shawn huffed, punching Diesel's arm. The blaring tone of the television was cut off abruptly by the remote, Shawn crossing his arms and tapping his fingers, eyebrows raised. He was chewing on a toothpick.
"I… I'm sorry. I thought-"
"You- Pardon moi, you what?" Leaning forward, Shawn's expression was a cross between enraged and incredulous. He removed the toothpick from his mouth and flicked it at Diesel's chest. "I don't pay you to think."
Somewhere, the illusion snapped, toothpick silently disappearing into the carpet. Diesel's breathing was uneven, eyes angry as he slowly raked them up Shawn's body until he landed on his face. An oil stained cheek, a tasteful tease turned ratsnest, and a bloody jacket assaulted his memory. His hair smelled like his mother.
"I need to make a phone call." The statement dripped enough vitriol to stun Shawn as Diesel lunged for the rotary phone, dialing Razor's number in frenzy. It only had to ring once.
"Who's th-" The line went dead as Shawn slammed his hand down on the switch, trying to pry the phone from Diesel's hands. He refused to relent and, with something akin to a roar, Shawn spun on his heel and kicked Diesel in the jaw so hard, he sent him sprawling backwards over the loveseat in the lobby. His shit was rocked; Diesel was too disoriented to discern up from down, head cocked at an awkward angle, shoulder braced against the floor. He was half draped over the loveseat and he struggled to drag himself the rest of the way and roll upright without breaking his neck. His lip was bleeding.
"What the fuck, Shawn-"
"You work for me, you big oaf! I tell you to jump, you ask how high!" The blond was yelling, voice rasping at a volume Diesel didn't think was possible, and he scrambled backwards across the shag carpeting to put distance between them before climbing to his feet. By the time he regained his footing, Shawn was perched on the back of the loveseat mid-vault, one leg over, and he cleared it the rest of the way with a jump. He didn't seem so small anymore when he stormed up to Diesel and jabbed his finger in his chest, forced to lower his voice to avoid it breaking. "You do not make a phone call without my permission, you hear me? You have a nice, cushy career thanks to me - You owe me."
Diesel opened his mouth to shout a response, preparing to rear up and tower over Shawn at full height. From the employee area, the factory standard MicroTAC ringtone cut through the sound of both mens' laboured breathing. The colour drained from Shawn's face, and he stood stock still as Diesel shoved past him, forcing open the Employees Only door with a shoulder and darting inside. He found his wallet, mobile phone, windbreaker, sunglasses - Everything he'd been traveling with November second, 1991, in the midst of the Halloween Blizzard.
Gathering up only the belongings he checked in with, he barged back out of the employee lounge. His big rig's keys were the only ones on the pegboard, and he snatched them off without remorse. On his way to the door, he grabbed Shawn's shoulder and spun him around, rage twisting his face. "What the hell did you do? What in the ever loving fuck did you do?"
Slowly, Shawn looked up at him, an uncontrollable torrent of expressions flickering across his face. Everything felt darker, the air staler, dust particles drifting through the rainbow refractions shattered across the walls by the crystal beaded curtains. Shawn looked like he might vomit. "I… I'm stuck. I'm trapped here, Diese-"
He choked on his words and clutched the front of Diesel's leather vest. He didn't remember dressing, but he was wearing the outfit he arrived in, sans the windbreaker slung over his shoulder. It sounded like Shawn was going to cry, but no tears fell. His legs gave out from under him momentarily, sinking down before he hauled himself back up by his grip on Diesel's vest. He looked more struck by the bigger man not catching him than anything. "You can't leave me, Diesel. I can't be alone like that again. I- I need you, you get it, dontcha? 'sides, you're the manager and security, you got a good gig here, and you can't leave, you signed the papers. It won't let you, it won't let me-"
"Oh, yeah?" Diesel snorted. "Wanna bet?"
"You- you- can't, the hotel, it-" The argument died in Shawn's throat. He made a sound like a wounded animal when Diesel slid his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and leaned in, dislodging Shawn's grip with an upwards flick of his forearm.
"Manage this dump yourself, Heartbreak."
–
The truck's ignition fired just fine, and Diesel had no trouble backing up the abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike and merging back on I-76. The storm had passed. Judging by his calendar and clock, he had plenty of leeway to make his delivery on time. As soon as his wheels touched interstate pavement, his CB crackled to life.
"What's your 20, BDC?"
"This is Big Daddy Cool. QTH f-m-zero–nine-u-x, en route to New York and on schedule."
#[ voyager ]#[ heartbreak hotel au ]#[ mango madness ]#long post#one of my favourite women in wrestling gets to appear in this one but unfortunately. not for long.#she'd shut this shit down if she was actually involved. hm. that'd make this easier to write! /j#anyway thanks for dealing with my spam
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flashback to the funniest oddest social interaction ive ever had: when i went to get my covid booster and got it on my left deltoid where my vampire bat tattoo is and the nurse asked me (27/m(?)) "oh! are you batman?" in the same tone of voice as if she was asking a child about their halloween costume
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All Thanks To Me (Teen Wolf one-shot)
This is a Teen Wolf (MTV TV show) one-shot. The gifs are not mine. I found them here on tumblr. All credit goes to the rightful owners.
Summary: Scott McCall gets dragged into the supernatural world when he discovers he’s a werewolf and his friends, Stiles Stilinski and Hannah Branwell are a vampire and a Shadowhunter.
Rating: K
Warning: None
Cast
Crystal Reed as Allison Lightwood
Daniel Sharman as Isaac Blackthorn
Melissa Benoist as Hannah Branwell
Tyler Posey as Scott McCall
Dylan O’Brien as Stiles Stilinski
Holland Roden as Lydia Martin
Author’s note
There are some things you need to know before you read this one-shot.
This one-shot is based on the Netflix series Shadowhunters. The characters in this one-shot are members of races that appear in that series. Allison, Isaac, and Hannah are Shadowhunters. Scott and Lydia are werewolves. Stiles is a vampire.
Allison and Isacc’s surnames, Argent and Lahey, do not belong to any Shadowhunter families, so I had to change them.
Victoria is not evil.
Gerard is not evil.
Kate is not evil.
Isaac’s parents and brother are alive.
Isaac’s father is not abusive.
Scott never got a tattoo.
Allison, Isaac, and Hannah left the New York Institute and made their way to Pandemonium. Eidolon demons had been spotted there.
Allison walked into Pandemonium.
Allison was tall and slender with fair skin and brown eyes. Her long brown hair was parted in the middle and styled in barrel curls. She was wearing an unzipped black leather jacket, a black t-shirt, black denim jeans, and black knee-length leather boots. A black leather archery glove was on her left hand. The glove did not cover the hand entirely. It only covered her index finger, her middle finger, and her ring finger. A black leather quiver with a single strap was on her back. The strap was on her right shoulder. Inside of the quiver were a black longbow and several arrows with red feather-looking pieces attached to the sides. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft brown eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.
The deflect rune was on the left side of Allison’s neck. The angelic power rune was on the humerus of her right arm. The fortitude rune was on the left side of her upper chest. The talent rune was on the right side of her upper chest. The equilibrium rune was on the right side of her waist. The stealth rune was on her left shoulder. The soundless rune was on her left bicep. The acceleration rune was on her outer left forearm. The shapeshifting rune was on her inner left forearm. The strength rune was on her right shoulder. The healing rune was on her right bicep. The protection rune was on her inner right forearm. The agility rune was on her inner right wrist. The courage in combat rune was on the right side of her upper back. The heightened speed rune was on the left side of her upper back.
Allison, Isaac, and Hannah were 24 years old.
Allison’s parents, Chris and Victoria, were the heads of the New York Institute. Her grandfather, Gerard, and her aunt, Kate, lived in Idris with Isaac’s parents, Isaac’s 28 year old brother, Camden, and Hannah’s parents.
Isaac walked into Pandemonium.
Isaac was tall with fair skin, blue eyes, and short, curly brown hair. He was clean-shaven. His body was slender but muscular. He was wearing black fingerless leather gloves, an unzipped black leather jacket, a black t-shirt, black denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots. In his right hand, he was holding a seraph blade.
The deflect rune was on the left side of Isaac’s neck. The angelic power rune was on the humerus of his right arm. The fortitude rune was on his right tricep. The talent rune was on the right side of his lower back. The equilibrium rune was on his right deltoid muscle. The stealth rune was on the right side of his collarbone. The soundless rune was on the radius of his right forearm. The acceleration rune was on his outer left forearm. The shapeshifting rune was on his right shoulder blade. The strength rune was on his right bicep. The healing rune was on the left side of his waist. The protection rune was on his left tricep. The agility rune was on the right side of his stomach. The courage in combat rune was on the left side of his upper back. The heightened speed rune was on the right side of his upper back.
Hannah walked into Pandemonium.
Hannah was tall and slender with fair skin and blue eyes. Her long straight blonde hair was parted in the middle. She was wearing black fingerless leather gloves, an unzipped black leather jacket, a black t-shirt, black denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft brown eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss. A holster made of black leather was strapped to her right thigh. A khanjali was inside of the holster.
The deflect rune was on the left side of Hannah’s neck. The angelic power rune was on the humerus of her right arm. The fortitude rune was on the left side of her upper chest. The talent rune was on the right side of her upper chest. The equilibrium rune was on the right side of her waist. The stealth rune was on her left shoulder. The soundless rune was on her left bicep. The acceleration rune was on her outer left forearm. The shapeshifting rune was on her inner left forearm. The strength rune was on her right shoulder. The healing rune was on her right bicep. The protection rune was on her inner right forearm. The agility rune was on her inner right wrist. The courage in combat rune was on the right side of her upper back. The heightened speed rune was on the left side of her upper back.
One week later
It was nighttime. Scott was walking home from work and heard strange noises coming from the alley nearby.
Scott worked at New Plaza Cinema, a movie theatre located in Manhattan.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" Scott called out.
Scott was a tall Latino man. He had brown eyes and short, straight black hair. He was clean-shaven. His body was slender but muscular. He was wearing a light grey long-sleeved shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and black high-top Vans sneakers with black laces. In his right hand, he was holding a gym bag that had his uniform in it.
Scott was 24 years old.
Scott walked further into the alley to see if anyone one was hurt. A werewolf jumped onto him, sinking its claws into his shoulder and causing him to black out.
The next morning, Scott woke up covered in his own blood. He headed to his apartment, covering his shoulder so he wouldn't draw attention to himself.
Scott changed his clothes.
Scott grabbed his cell phone and called Stiles. There was panic in his voice. "Stiles, you need to come to my place. Something happened, and I don't know what to do."
Scott was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and black high-top Adidas sneakers with white laces.
Twenty minutes later, Stiles knocked on Scott's door.
Scott opened the door and saw Stiles and Hannah standing on his doorstep. He frantically pulled them into the apartment.
“What's going on?" Stiles asked.
Stiles was tall with fair skin and brown eyes. His short, straight brown hair was styled in an Ivy League cut. His locks were a little longer on top, allowing him to spike up his bangs. He was clean-shaven. His body was slender but muscular. He was wearing an unzipped green hooded sweatshirt over a white t-shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and green high-top Vans sneakers with white laces.
Stiles was 24 years old.
Scott paced back and forth. "I-I was walking home from work and heard a noise coming from the alley. I went to check it out, something jumped onto me, and I blacked out. I woke up covered in my own blood, and I saw this."
Scott pulled the collar of his shirt down. Stiles and Hannah saw a claw mark on his right shoulder.
"Scott-" Hannah started.
"D-Do you think an animal escaped from the zoo? Or a wild animal came into the city or..." Scott trailed off.
"Scott!" Stiles yelled, snapping Scott out of his frenzy.
"I think you should sit down." Hannah said, leading Scott to the couch.
Hannah was wearing a red long-sleeved button down shirt with the ends tied into a knot, dark blue denim jeans, and red ankle-length leather boots. Her long straight blonde hair was parted in the middle. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft brown eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.
Stiles and Hannah told Scott about Hannah being a Shadowhunter, what Shadowhunters were, that Stiles was a vampire, and that it was a werewolf that attacked him.
"How long have you guys been like this?" Scott asked.
"A year." Stiles said.
"And neither of you ever bothered to tell me?" Scott asked.
"It wasn't safe for you to know." Hannah said.
Stiles looked at Hannah and said, "We should take him to Lydia. She can help him with his first transformation."
"Wait...Stiles, your girlfriend's a werewolf? Let me guess, Hannah…I haven't been able to meet Isaac because he's a Shadowhunter too," Scott muttered.
"Yeah." Hannah said.
After Scott calmed down, Stiles and Hannah took him to Lydia, who introduced him to her alpha, Derek Hale, and the rest of her pack.
Lydia helped Scott through his first transformation and taught him how to control his new inhibitions.
One month later
Scott and Stiles were hanging out at Hunter's Moon, the bar Lydia worked at. Hannah walked in with Allison and Isaac.
Hannah was wearing an unbuttoned black cotton jacket, a green t-shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and black knee-length leather boots. Her long blonde hair was parted in the middle and styled in barrel curls. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft brown eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.
Allison was wearing an unzipped red cotton jacket, a white t-shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and red ankle-length leather boots. Her long brown hair was parted in the middle and styled in barrel curls. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft brown eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.
Isaac was wearing an unzipped dark grey cotton jacket, a black t-shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots.
"So, you're the new werewolf." Allison said.
"Not so loud," Scott muttered, looking around to see if anyone heard her.
Scott was wearing a black long-sleeved button down shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone.
"Don't worry, Scott. This is a Downworlder bar." Stiles said.
Stiles was wearing an unbuttoned long-sleeved green and black plaid flannel shirt over a black t-shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots.
"Are you serious? All those times I came here with you..." Scott trailed off.
"You were surrounded by vampires and werewolves? That'd be correct," Allison said.
Allison gestured to herself. "Anyway, I'm Allison Lightwood.”
Allison gestured to Isaac. “This is Isaac Blackthorn.”
“Hey.” Isaac greeted.
"Nice to meet you guys," Scott said.
Scott stayed at the bar for hours, getting to know Stiles and Hannah’s Shadowhunter friends. He was intrigued by Allison. She seemed to be intrigued by him. Within a few weeks, they became quite close.
A few days later
Stiles and Scott were hanging out at Hunter's Moon.
"So, when are you going to ask Allison out?" Stiles asked.
Stiles was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and black high-top Converse sneakers with white laces.
"What are you talking about?" Scott asked.
Scott was wearing a light grey long-sleeved shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and light grey high-top Nike sneakers with white laces.
Stiles laughed. "Oh, come on, Scott. It's obvious you and Allison like each other."
Scott took a sip of his beer. "She's out of my league."
Stiles grinned. "According to Hannah, Allison would disagree."
"Okay, now you're just messing with me." Scott said.
"I'm serious. Hannah says that Allison talks about you all the time and thinks you're cute." Stiles said.
"You really think I should ask her out?" Scott asked.
"I do, and look who just walked in." Stiles smiled and waved as Allison walked into the bar. "Now's your chance."
Allison approached Stiles and Scott.
"Hey, Allison." Stiles greeted.
Allison smiled at Stiles and Scott. "Hey, Stiles. Hey, Scott."
Allison was wearing an unbuttoned black long-sleeved button down shirt with the ends tied into a knot, dark blue denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots. Her long brown hair was straight and parted in the middle. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft brown eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.
"Lydia’s about to get off work. I'm going to go wait over there." Stiles said, getting up from his seat. "Have fun, you crazy kids."
Allison sat next to Scott.
Allison chuckled and asked, "What's up with Stiles?"
"He's convinced we like each other and I should ask you out." Scott said.
"If you asked me out, I would say yes." Allison said.
"Well, then, would you like to go on a date right now?" Scott asked shyly.
Allison smiled. "I would like that very much."
From the other side of the bar, Stiles watched Scott and Allison.
Lydia came out of the back room.
"What are you so happy about?" Lydia asked Stiles.
Lydia was tall and slender with fair skin and green eyes. Her long straight strawberry blonde hair was parted in the middle. She was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt with a lace overlay, dark blue denim jeans, and black knee-length leather boots. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft brown eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.
Lydia was 24 years old.
"Scott and Allison are finally on a date, and it's all thanks to me," Stiles said proudly.
Lydia laughed. "Okay, Doctor Love, let's get out of here. You can get all the details from Scott tomorrow."
At the end of the night, Scott walked Allison back to the Institute.
"I had a lot of fun tonight." Scott said.
"I did too." Allison said.
"Would you like to go out again sometime?" Scott asked.
"I would like that very much." Allison said.
"I guess this is good night." Scott said.
"I think you're supposed to kiss me first." Allison said.
Scott leaned down and kissed Allison.
Allison walked up to the doors. She looked over her shoulder as she opened one of the doors and smiled at Scott. "Good night, Scott."
THE END
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fun fact: i occasionally get minor muscle spasms in my left shoulder that make my deltoid visibly twitch. it’s not painful and it just happens at random. more recently, i got a radiation warning tattoo on that shoulder about where those spasms happen. so nothing weird about that at all (:
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