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#look a hint of skin turns me into a Victorian maiden
new-berry · 1 month
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Dan Burn is BIG. 6’6-6-7 ish.
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Sean is not small okay. Oh my god look at his tummy. Anyway.
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fandomfluffandfuck · 2 years
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Stopppppp those tags are too funny! What happens next 👉👈🥺 they date don't they 🥺🥺
related to this post/my tags on it:
"my cat is meowing thru the window at the middle aged men working on the roof rn and they're meowing back at her"
"she's obsessed w these guys i should have put her through trade school"
#stucky au anyone? 🤣 #<- no but literally!! #Bucky works from home and so he is around constantly during construction not paying much attention to the workers because yeah #he's trying to work too #but Alpine keeps meowing #and someone is meowing back at her out there #just one #like- #one very Manly Timbre making the cutest little sounds again and again whenever Alpine starts the conversation back up lol #and the ONE TIME Bucky looks out the window to see who the fuck is doing that it's when he's making making himself lunch #mid-day #the hottest part of the day... #and the guy that is meowing at Alpine is SHIRTLESS STEVE #sweaty and massive and- #again shirtless with workboots beat-up blue jeans and a goddamn tool belt around his hips #he's still got his gloves on #stained from shingle sealant #but- #as he meows at Alpine Steve stands up from Whatever The Fuck he was doing to the roof and slips those gloves off #Bucky feels like a Victorian maiden seeing a man for the first time #watching him take off those gloves is like watching him strip 😳 #his skin is sweaty and glistening his chest is heaving and he is reaching for a fucking water bottle #gulping down mouthful after mouthful #his throat exposed to Bucky's hungry eyes... Bucky watching the way his adams apple bobs as he swallows #Bucky moans Out Loud in his kitchen #it makes Steve choke-laugh #getting water all over his chin throat and chest #Steve is now literally wet and Bucky is metaphorically getting wet
I mean...
The only natural next step is for hot-roofer guy to knock on Bucky's window, right?
And Bucky has to face his embarrassment and walk over to the goddamn window because it's not like this model-looking dude can't see him. He just heard him do that and can currently see where his jaw is on the tile kitchen floor still. So, Bucky swallows as much of his mortification as he can, stumbling over to slide the window open from the bottom. His hands shake as he unlocks and lifts...
The second he steps back, a little too far, nearly landing on his ass with window now fully open, the guy leans down onto the frame, sticking his blond head right into Bucky's kitchen. His hair would be darker if not for sweat dampening it. Leaning into his home. Bucky is being killed in his own home because mystery-hot-yet-cute-roofer man has forearms that are perfectly muscular and hairy. There is sweat clinging to the hair. Bucky didn't know forearms could be so attractive. His hands are large. His fingers thick and long.
His face is even more attractive. Strong jaw. Delightfully crooked nose. Bright eyes. Sculpted cheekbones. Faint freckles from working in the sun. Swest running in little rivers down his skin.
Bucky could not be more stunned. Well, actually, he regrets thinking that when the guy opens his mouth and says-
"You got a towel I could use sweetheart, since you made me spill my water and all?"
His. Voice. Deep with just the perfect amount of gravel. A hint of roughness. Oh.
Bucky doesn't exactly manage to say words back to the man. The worker who has been charming his cat and is now charming him, calling him sweetheart.
Swooning in his kitchen, he sputters and then nods, jerking his head up and down too fast. It must look stupid and uncoordinated. But mystery man just smirks and taps his fingers on the window frame where he's perched, I'm waiting, his fingers and single raised eyebrow say.
Bucky takes the gilded invitation to turn away and hide his burning face, fetching him a kitchen towel from a lower drawer. And- ohgodohgodohgod- is he looking at my ass? I hope he's looking at my ass. I hope he's not too though, these shorts don't to anything good for me! Of all the days to not wear leggings around the house! Bucky thinks frantically, bending over, grabbing his best kitchen towel.
He stands up. Turns around. Watches Steve quickly drag his eyes up to his face. Smirk still strong on his face.
Bucky can feel his embarrassment rise back up like a rising tide, threatening to drown him.
Handing over the towel, Bucky realizes his mistake. Now he has to watch the ridiculously attractive and ridiculously built man wipe his chin, chest, and stomach down. Then he even has the audacity to wipe his sweaty forehead with it, swiping the gathered sweat and grime away... looking at him unashamed all the while.
Bucky doesn't know if he can will himself to not have a nosebleed but he's thinking about it. And he's also half focused on willing himself to not combust spontaneously.
Once he's done teasing Bucky horribly drying off, he lays the towel limp over the window frame and sticks a hand out for Alpine to sniff. She sniffs. Then instantly lifts her chin - up on the little table Bucky has set next to the window - begging for scratches. The daeker pink bell on her light pink collar jingles cheerily as she rolls over for him.
The man chuckles quietly, asking, "does this princess here got a name?"
"Alpine," Bucky pushes out, a cat has his tongue. And it is not Alpine.
"Mm, cute name," he barely even pauses, swinging his eyes up from her white, fluffy form to meet his eyes, "and what about yours, darlin'?"
Darling-! Bucky feels like he's been hit by lightning. He has never swooned so hard in his goddamn life. Never in his life has he needed a fainting couch other than right now. Today. "M-mine-?" He finally squeaks.
"Mmm-hmm," the other man says, mouth turned up easily.
"Uh, um-" he fumbles, "Bucky. My name is Bucky."
"Bucky?" He repeats, an eyebrow raised, saying it slow and careful. Bucky nods, heart beating out of his chest. "Bucky, that's an even cuter name than Alpine."
"Uh-"
"Well, Buck, my name is Steve-"
Buck! Buck-! He's already given his nickname a nickname! Who is this guy! Why is this man so- everything?
"And I was wondering if once I'm done fixin' your roof you'd be fixin' to go out with me?"
Bucky-
Bucky processes the words, swept up in the unending charm of this guy, and instantly his mouth is running away, cut loose from the cat and getting him into trouble.
"W-we don't have to go anywhere to go out, y’know? You, uh, could climb in and I could... could make you dinner here. Now that the roof doesn't leak. I'm-" Bucky fumbles, fiddling with his own fingers, looking at Steve's hands as they scratch Alpine, not at his way too handsome face, "-I've only got one arm but, um, I... I cook just fine. I promise."
Steve cracks up, "oh, I bet you do," he winks, "I'd like that though, sweetheart, in fact-"
Steve doesn't get to the end of his sentence though, the charm and golden honey is cut off by someone over his shoulder yelling, "ROGERS! QUIT CHASING THAT PUSSY AND GET YOUR ASS BACK TO WORK!"
A few of the other workers milling around behind Steve (not that he can see them, Steve's shoulders block all of his view of them, he just assumes they're still there) crack up. Hollering there own remarks after the boss.
And it's Buckys turn to choke-laugh then. Bending over and slapping his own chest with his hand. Breaking down into hysterics between the perfect timing, word choice, and his own nerves.
Bucky cooks for him and Steve compliments his cooking. They talk. They get along fantastically. Steve treats him like no one else has since he had his arm amputated- he treats him like a person. More than that. Like an incredible person. A worthy person. Steve woos him through their next dates, buying him flowers, wine that should go good with another homemade meal, and he makes Bucky a little wooden house just for Alpine. As it turns out Steve is incredibly good with his hands, roofing, construction, carpentry, and- 😳😳 other things that require a firm grip from strong hands.
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great-pink-owl · 2 years
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Coffee
Rating G | Alec Lightwood | Izzy Lightwood | Outside POV
Coffee
Sam sighs softly, one hip propped against the serving counter as her eyes roam the deserted interior of her small café. The sweet smell of cinnamon and baking bread is still lingering from the fresh batch of cinnamon buns she’d just put in the display case. She probably won’t sell a single one today. She thinks Mrs. Danolly—the homeless woman who’s taken up residence in the ally behind the small coffee shop—will be delighted by the donation.
Outside, rain lashes against the windows in sheets, and thunder rumbles menacingly in the distance as the storm grows in intensity. The weather prediction for the day had called for slight cloud cover with a cool breeze, a perfect day to hole up in a local café and eat cinnamon buns. This downpour came out of nowhere and now Sam is bemoaning the day’s lost sales.
She’s just debating the merits of closing early and going home to curl up with Netflix and a mug of spiked cocoa when the little bell above the entrance jingles cheerfully. She perks up as two people spill into the cozy interior of her shop, soaking wet and leaving a puddle on her rustic faux wood floors.
Oh.
They’re…stunning. Both strangers have dark hair, flawless skin, and cheekbones that should be illegal. The hint of an inky black tattoo peeks out enticingly from the collar of the man’s jacket. Even with their disheveled appearance, it’s impossible to miss just how stupidly attractive they both are. Or maybe Sam is just projecting because she hasn’t gotten laid in nearly a year. Both are possible.
The woman is giggling gleefully where she leans into her companion’s side, arms wrapped around his middle to keep her balance when she teeters dangerously in her six-inch stilettos. She has the broken heel of one boot clutched in her left hand. She murmurs something too low for Sam to hear, bringing her empty hand up to ruffle the man’s dark hair with a grin, raindrops flying in every direction with the gesture.
“Yes Izzy, I’m well aware.” He rolls his eyes fondly, hooks an arm around her, and hauls her over to a nearby table. He deposits her unceremoniously into a chair and swipes the broken heel, shoving it into a pocket before draping his wet jacket over the other chair. After a quick conversation, he drops a kiss to the top of her head and turns to make his way toward the counter.
Sam can’t help but track the way he moves with an effortless sort of grace, the way his soaked jeans cling to strong thigh muscles that make her want to fan herself and swoon like some Victorian maiden. She forcefully resists the urge to check for drool and smiles brightly, looking up, and then up some more, to meet vibrant hazel eyes.
Dear god he’s tall.
It’s possible she’s a little bit in love. Definitely a little bit in lust.
“Hi!” Sam is grateful when her voice comes out steady, if perhaps a touch breathless. After all, it isn’t every day that members of the Greek pantheon come into your coffee shop to escape the rain. “What can I get for you?”
“Uhm…” He absently brushes a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear as he scans the menu and Sam’s eyes involuntarily followed a stray water droplet down the corded muscles of his bare forearm. More of those dark tattoos stand out against pale skin and it takes everything in her not to lick her lips like a starving person.
Shit. People are not supposed to be this pretty. She thinks a bit hysterically.
“Large hot chocolate and a caramel latte with whipped cream.”
There’s a gasp behind him and the woman, Izzy—wife? girlfriend? the thought is a little depressing—makes a triumphant noise, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. Her expression is one of abject delight as she claps her hands together in front of her. Full red lips curl up mischievously. “I knew it! Jace owes me 20 bucks.”
Sam isn’t sure what expression her face is making as she looks between them, but the man huffs out a laugh as he hands his card over to pay for their drinks. “You’re both children,” he replies absently, gaze lighting up when he catches sight of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the pastry case. “Oh, can I get one of those as well?”
“Oh my god, Alec….are you…are you ordering sweets? What has Magnus done to you?” The woman places the back of her hand to her forehead in a theatrical display, pretty, dark eyes glittering wickedly and Sam can’t suppress her giggle this time. She thinks they must be siblings, or maybe childhood friends. The teasing between them is saturated with that exasperated affection that only people who have grown up together can achieve.
Feeling bold, Sam gives Alec a coy smile as she plates the cinnamon bun and passes it across the counter. “On the house handsome.” A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone, right?
She certainly isn’t expecting his owlish blink, his expression bewildered as he accepts the plate hesitantly.
“Oh…uh, I uh…thanks.”
Across the room, Izzy chokes on a laugh and Sam nearly dies. How can someone so tall and intimidating and gorgeous look so adorably confused? Has nobody ever flirted with this man? Do people not have eyes?
Taking pity on him, Sam schools her smile into something more professional. “Let me just get those drinks started. I’ll bring them over to you.”
He nods at her, still looking a little bemused, before ambling over to the table to drop into the chair across from his presumed sister, who’s still grinning a little bit wolfishly. She’s clearly amused by his flustered state.
“You’re sharing that, Hermano.”
“Not a chance, you heathen, get your own.”
Sam can’t help chuckling quietly when Alec pulls the plate closer to himself, batting his sister’s hand—thank you 9th grade Spanish—away when she reaches for it. He eventually relents, after nearly a full minute of pouting on Izzy’s part, and tears the roll in half. He pushes the plate towards her grabby hands with a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, one corner of his mouth curling up in amusement.
Quickly finishing up their drink orders, Sam delivers them to their table with a flourish and winks at Izzy this time.
“Caramel latte for you and hot chocolate for the beautiful lady.” She grins when Izzy ends up looking just as flustered as her brother.
Sam retreats back behind her counter and pretends to look busy, surreptitiously glancing over to watch their lighthearted banter until the rain starts to lessen and they eventually take their leave. When she closes up shop later that night—depositing the leftover cinnamon buns with a very grateful Mrs. Danolly on her way—she still carries some of that warmth and affection home with her.
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Come read more of my stories on AO3
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gorjee-art · 5 years
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Advice
This is just a short story I’ve made for classes and whatnot, but I ended up liking it as a story so, for good practice and a lil bit of fun, I give you this. Hope you like it! Feedback is appreciated! 
Through twisting and turning hallways of a castle, echoed a voice of a giggling woman, as a light beams through the darkened tunnels, shining like a heavenly gateway. Inside was a royal bath, bubbles floated everywhere in the room with a ceiling revealing the night sky, lit by hundreds of warm candle lights dancing on the marble walls decorated with potions and bottles meant for cleansing, with a heated pool in the center, bubbling with suds. A slim woman with fair skin and hair made of a twilight sky swirling with pink and purples shimmering with starlight, cupped a handful of the foam as set her palms near her pink lips and blew to make the foam break apart into a cloud of bubbles to make it all float back in the skies above her. She giggled once again, seemingly amused with floating spheres above her, legs splashing in the warm waters, happy like a child to be observing what was above her. As she gazed, she lost herself in thought and had an idea to spin herself a tale.
“At last, the Sandman sets his stage, the scene framed with curves and twists of shimmering gold. Upon the rooftops, his foot placed on the tops of chimneys like a marble statue, the moon shining down on his porcelain skin, a spotlight made for the star, in a galaxy of his own childish mind.”  
Her tone was almost as though she was entertaining an audience, her voice dancing with energy and whimsy, with her hands playing along with setting a scene; her body spoke more than her voice for what she told.
“A mischievous creature, his aura demanding attention for those who saw him in their dreams, staring with eyes filled with curiosity and whimsy for he meets them with his own maddened gaze, a Cheshire in their wonderlands, painting his own twisted versions of fairytale and myth. For the fools that dare come closer to the man encrusted with gold, would lose their minds as he once did. For the King of Dreams never liked the concept of order, but would rather prefer the beauty that is chaos, and as a man that starved affection and attention, with an innocent smile, he’d display his work with pride, with the feeble mind of humanity that couldn’t bear to look away. His subjects would forever be in his imagination, keeping him company as they slept their days away. Henceforth, he was known by his name, for they took his title as “The Sandman”, he kept his audience, that cherished the thought of Willing Madness and welcomed them with open arms, with a promise of tea, sweets, and tales told by bold men and a man of his word, many have awoken happily. For each morning, the curtain will close, leaving the King of Dreams to sit alone in his throne…”
She finished, her hands laid on her chest and bowing her head with her eyes shut closed as if to end a scene.
“Ahem,” Her purple eyes shot open to focus upon a young lady, clasped hands hiding away her blacked claws posed in the center of a golden Victorian dress, her face bitter as her frown revealed orange tusks. The pair locked eyes, the lady’s own amber stained spheres met of those belonging to a goddess.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Gorjina.”
Her voice was filled with grace and patience but a hint of strictness and a respect for her ancestor. That seemed to please to whom was “Gorjina Star Nebula”.
“Not at all, dear.” She said with a smile “What is it you need? Or, would you rather join me for a bath, you look…tense.” She eyed the maiden with a cunning grin, making it well known to her that she was teasing the girl’s stress ”Every girl needs a spa day these days, especially you, Norma.”
Norma rolled her eyes at the remark and raised a brow,
“I’m not interested, I just-“ she paused, a moment of silence to chase her train of thought. Her expression faded from an annoyed sneer to a look of worry but quickly shook it off to set back to a tone of professionalism “I just need some advice.”
Gorjina stared and questioned her moment of silence. Concerned, she waited to hear her darling descendant’s woes, raising her hand and fluttered it as if to say, ‘go on’. Norma neared closer to the pool her eyes jutting away from side to side.
“Be honest…” Her voice softened “ do you… consider me as an awful person? Are you haunting my mind as a punishment?”
The final word was said with hesitation, as if it was a truth never meant to be revealed, with guilty eyes she struggled to look Gorjina face to face. However, the goddess stared back with shock,
“She couldn’t have, she wouldn’t, she couldn’t be this…moronic” she thought to herself.
With eyes wide and jaw agape, she laughed a wicked laugh, it was so loud that it screamed up to the heavens above, Norma quickly shut her ears closed and her face crinkled with anger and fury, black smoke spilling out from her gritting teeth.
“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” Norma spat with clear insult.
“You are merely pathetic! Not a monster! If you so consider your misdeeds as sin, then I would be Lucifer himself! You haven’t killed, stole, lied in front of a crying child, do you even HEAR yourself?” Gorjina continued to giggle, gasping for breaths of air as she fanned her weeping tears away
“A punishment? A PUNISHMENT? How low do you think of me Norma? I would be insulted and turn you into a useless doll if wasn’t so funny. Please, you’re only but a serpent living in the caves on top of a pile of gold you so greedily keep to yourself, yet you never bother anyone and they don’t bother you. How could you be horrendous, Norma? Please, I’d ADORE to hear how your mind would come up with this idiocy.”
Norma continued to sneer and growl at the woman who lived in her mind, with anger blinding her judgement.
“Then why does no one come over? Why is everyone that surrounds me takes a good look at me and runs away in a couple of seconds, look at me Gorjina I’m a freak! They’ve hurt me! I’m nothing but a parasite amounting to NOTHING!” As the outburst ends Norma heaves for breath as the smoke subsides, with a few tears sliding down her cheeks.
“What is… my purpose? Who am I? What’s the point in anything? Was I really meant to be an artist? Does my life have meaning?“ “Slow down, dear.” She lets out a sigh, letting the tips of her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose as she processed the questions given,  “Your purpose is achieving your goals and making yourself happier and more fulfilled as a person. You are Norma Kit; you decide what is the point. You’ve already gone this far, why stop doing what you love? And everyone has some meaning and impact on the Earth so long as you’re not some parasite more useless than the ground you’ve walked on, by which you’re not. What’s gotten into you? These are idiotic sentiments; they have no use for you.” She hissed.
Norma sighed, with a look of defeat she buried her face in her palms. With a flick of a wrist Gorjina fashioned her a couch before Norma could sit down. Gorjina with a feeling of pity, swam across to her broken apprentice to make sure that she is comforted. She rested her arms on the edges of the pool and looked up at her.
“That’s it, let it all out…” Gorjina said in a soft whisper, with a snap, her own sorcery made fictional “servants” come to life, made with odd shapes and colors they had no identity besides being what Gorjina meant for them to be. One pet Norma’s caramel hair to soothe her woes the other released the bow that kept her hair in a bun and tidied it up.
“You should cease your little habit of hiding away what makes you human, you could burst one day.”
“I know.” Norma said admittedly.
“Then why continue dear? I’m tired of reminding you that you are my flesh and blood, yes you may be strong, but you are also fragile, I’m here to aid my family and these choices you make in life are…”
Gorjina bit back her tongue and re thought her choice of wording
“…silly. Why close the doors of which are in front of you?”
“I don’t know.”
Feeling slight disappointment for her descendant, she sighed, rolled her eyes and asked a simple question.
“Why are you really here, Norma?”
“I just wanted to be sure, I suppose. It’s been getting to me again. It bothers me that these thoughts come around so…often. I needed just, an answer I can be sure is true.”
“It’s normal, darling. Humanity is known to push themselves and question life to do remarkable things. However, these questions about yourself will grant you these thoughts, and it has simple answers. So stop it before you waste anymore of my time.” She said with a huff and a raised nose, as she turned her back to Norma, sinking into the bubbling water submerging her body. The servants disappeared with her, fading into colorful bits of shimmering smoke, as Norma realized this, she fell on to her knees to call for her.
“Wait, wait, wait! No, you get back here! At least tell me how I stop it!”
Gorjina stopped for a moment, and looked up at her young apprentice, raising her hand so her chin may rest on it, and with no amusement she asked:
“-And what do I get in return for this favor?”
Norma thought for a moment and reached for her ears, removing two pearl earrings and set them in the palm of her cupped hands. “Here, you can have them. Just fix me.”
Gorjee stared at what she put in place, chuckling to herself, “I’m afraid I can’t accept your offer.”
“What?! But these are real pearls! Don’t bail out on this!”
“Oh, I know they are, and they are quite lovely,” She raised her hands from the water to shut Norma’s cupped hands, “but you need to keep them.”
“I’m…confused.”
“You need to keep those that simply cannot have a price. That should end your troubled thoughts. Look how you gave them away with no thought, no love for these lovely treasures. So desperate to let someone fix you, when the answer was right in front of you.” After a bit of thought Gorjina raised a brow and chuckled. “Besides, dear. I’m an artist.” With a quick flick of a wrist and a sudden puff of smoke, she was covered in encrusted jewels, pearls, gems, and treasures alike. “I can make my own, don’t you know…?”
“But- But you- I.”
Gorjina quickly hushed Norma, “To put this simply, you focus on those that don’t desire your presence, and you get hurt by it. So you hide away to a place that you believe no one will ever harm you, when your mind is your worst enemy. Thus, I stay here and you’re not alone, and many of us would be delighted to help you with your journey of life, and I’m afraid you don’t have much time as you think you do. You’re fragile, stop making these gray hairs for yourself.”
Norma looked at her earrings and looked back at Gorjina with a smile and an eased expression, as Gorjina looked back all the same. Displaying a love only a mother can have for their child.
“Now shoo, I’ve done enough for you.” As Gorjina turned away and exited her bath, quickly covering herself in robes of silk, both looked up to see the moon starting to set and the sun rising with birds beginning to chirp their own songs.
“It’s time to wake up, dear. It’s going to be a beautiful morning” she chuckled, and snapped her fingers.
Suddenly, Norma was in a modern room, laying on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. No dress except for a t-shirt and hair a ratty mess she groggily, turned her head to look at her clock for it to be 10:34 am.
“Not so bad.” She thought to herself,  with a few stretches and popping bones she sat on the edge of her bed to face her window. A beautiful day, as Gorjina had predicted…
“Meh.” she said with a gruff and closed the curtains and buried her face on the pillow with a smile.
“You’re an absolute disgrace, you understand that right?” her head echoed.
“Mm…you love me.”
The voice sighed and chuckled “You at least understood something, Norma.”
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