“Trust me, Mr. Eames, by the end of this job your heart will have grown three sizes,” Arthur says, and pulls Eames’ hat down over his eyes in one sharp move.
“Only three?” Eames asks, fixing his hat back into place.
Arthur has already started walking away.
“At least three!” he throws over his shoulder with unprecedented confidence.
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For this year's @secretsaito I wrote/am writing a fic (with a bonus moodboard) for @mostcheery for the prompt 'cold' .
Thank you to the mods for being wonderful and keeping this fandom alive through these events!
Mostcheery I hope you'll enjoy this gift, and that we all will have a wonderful and lucky year! 🍾
Happy New Year everyone. Stay silly and have fun! ♥️
Max stared at him speechless, frozen in shock, as Oskar pulled a pocket knife from the pocket of his trousers and reached out to take Max’s wrists in his warm hands, cutting the moist silk quickly but carefully as to not injure him.
Even when his hands were free, Max stood there motionless, his eyes pricking with gathering tears.
“Oskar, I-" Max’s voice broke, a tear escaping to trickle down his cheek.
"Shut up,” Oskar snapped lowly, making Max jerk back. "We don't have time for explanations now." His hand wrapped roughly around Max’s lean bicep, pulling him away from the wall. “I’ll keep watch. Get dressed as fast as you can."
Bonds of Silk
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Max/Oskar, brief Max/OMC
Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Light Bondage, Period-Typical Homophobia, Murder Mystery, Minor Character Death, mentioned period-typical violence against homosexual people, Coming Out, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Coitus Interruptus, Angst with a Happy Ending, Vulnerable Max Liebermann, Protective Oskar Rheinhardt,Other Additional Tags to Be Added, OCs - Freeform, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining
“Still having trouble sleeping?” A voice breaks the silence of the night suddenly, but Arthur doesn’t startle; he’d heard the warehouse’s door when it slid open, nearly silently, moments ago. Eames’ steps might have been soft through the snow-covered yard as he made his way closer, but Arthur was so attuned to his presence he’d known it was Eames the moment he stepped outside.
Arthur exhales the cigarette smoke before he turns to look at him. Eames is wearing the ugly orange parka he arrived with, a hat pulled down over his hair but his nose is already turning red from the cold.
“Still despising the cold?” He asks back, a smirk pulling at his lips at Eames’ amused laugh.
He comes to sit on the ledge beside Arthur, wiping the thin layer of snow from it first. The parka makes him look and feel bulkier than he already is.
“This cold’s bloody awful, Arthur. I don’t know why I still accept jobs in such godforsaken climes.”
Arthur takes a pull from his cigarette, talking through it. “For the same reason you take jobs in climates that would better fit the lowest levels of Hell: Μoney.”
“Touché. Got any more of these?” He’s pointing at Arthur’s cigarette, a ring on his middle finger that he lifted from a shop yesterday while they were tailing their mark. It catches the moonlight, shining gold for a moment. Arthur fully expects him to get bored of it sometime in the next few days and sell it off to some unlucky soul for three times its original price before something else catches Eames’ magpie-like attention.
“Yes,” Arthur says but makes no move to retrieve the pack from his coat pocket, simply rolling the cigarette between freezing fingers, offering it to him.
Eames takes a deep drag, watching him as Arthur stares at his full lips wrapping around the thin stick. The corner of his mouth quirks up.
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Fill #2 for @inceptionbingo with the prompt First Kiss
Rating: T
Words: 1,521
Written for SunshineThorki on twitter who asked for #38--running out of time
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Summary:
There is silence for so long it makes Loki feel it on his skin, suffocating him. The despair inside him mounting the longer the other occupants of the room stare at him and the Loom that's pulsing with something akin to panting, anger, like a living breathing thing.
“I need a break to think,” he says and pulls on the newfound power in him that feels both new and as if it has always been there, through a million, a billion realities.
He finds himself back in the desert where the TVA first accosted him and from there he pulls on his seidr and vanishes through space and time until he lands on a well-known prairie that has been—will be, have already been—gone as many times as there are realities.
I had such a hard time deciding which premise I wanted for this kiss it was insane lol I hope you will like some canon-adjacent thoughts 🥰
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“-the righteousness surging! Hey, do you want to have a rousing discussion about truth? Honor? Patriotism? God bless Amer–hmpf!”
Loki lets the Captain’s Glamour drop as he gets knocked back against a pillar, Thor's massive hand pressing against his mouth to shut him up. He thrashes a little at the sudden manhandling but it's mostly for show. Loki knows this. Thor also knows this, because as soon as Loki grabs his hand Thor retracts it.
“What?” snarls Loki, more irritated by the fact Thor gave up so easily than being handled in that way by him.
Thor takes away his hand resting on the side of Loki’s neck and along with it his warmth, and steps back, silent and somber like a stone statue. He isn't even looking at him and that stokes the fires of Loki's ire. He keeps quiet, though, when he notices the guards passing by them some feet down the hall, subconsciously moving closer to Thor. The last thing he'd want right now would be to be thrown back in his cell before getting to have some fun, so he waits until the guards have vanished down another corridor, before he speaks.
“You could at least furnish me with a weapon. My daggers–something.”
Thor finally looks at him, scowling—Loki doesn't care, elation fluttering in his gut—and pulls something metallic from inside his drab cape.
“At last,” Loki smiles widely, offering his hands for the weapon to be placed inside them, “a little common sens-...”
A pair of seidr-dampening handcuffs locks around his wrists and it's Loki's turn to scowl now, raising his hands between them, glaring at Thor.
“I thought you liked tricks.” Thor chuckles and is about to walk away when, in a motion quick as lightning, Loki throws his arms above and over his brother's head and pulls him close by the neck, bringing their mouths together in a forceful kiss that doesn't last more than a few seconds. Thor’s hand slaps against his lean chest in reflex, pushing him back against the wall again, growling. “Loki–”
“I do like tricks. Especially ones played at your expense.” Loki purrs and locks his hands firmly behind Thor's neck, tangling his fingers in long, blond strands of hair. Thor doesn't come easier when Loki pulls him close this time but their lips come together in another kiss that doesn't last longer than the last. The third, though, this one does last longer and the flutter in Loki's belly turns into a blizzard as Thor loses himself into the silky side, the familiar taste for a few moments more.
When he speaks, his voice has lowered, got raspier, sending sparks down Loki's spine to his toes for hearing it like that again after all this time, filled with want. “There's no time for your games, brother.”
A long leg wraps around Thor's hip, keeping him firmly pressed against Loki, their manhoods rubbing together through layers of clothing.
“This is where you are mistaken, dear Thor, there's always time for a little fun to be had.”
Those massive hands finally return to Loki's body, one pressing bruises above his hipbone and the other cradling his neck. So fiercely. So tenderly.
“This doesn't change anything, I'm still angry at you,” Thor whispers before Loki seals their mouths together in a biting, unforgiving kiss that leaves them seeking more and more when it's over.
They don't pull apart until a commotion from down the hall compels them to do so, Loki already thinking of how he's going to tease his brother into ravishing his mouth again at the first possible moment when a hard slap makes his head turn. With his lips still tingling and bruised from their kisses, it takes every little ounce of self-control in him not to start laughing at Thor's new amore’s face.
Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
I have so many WIPs that it'd probably take me a month to list all of them because when an idea strikes it needs to get written right this instant but then the spark fizzles out and the WIP doesn't get finished until that spark is back again :')
So here's my 10 most recent WIPs, including ships like Thorki, Arthur/Eames and Benny/Johnny
AELDWS 2024 A/E
Ain't no sunshine when he's gone (editing phase) B/J
Trouble Makers A/E
Nexilis (editing phase) A/E
'tis the damn season T/L
Summer of '74 T/L
Raw Carnal Haze T/L
Kiss me hard before you go T/L
Happy endings A/E
Bluebird T/L
I tag anyone who wants to do it and @ladyvaderpixetc @thisdorkyblogthing @maharlika @artforkuponuts @mystrangebones
Nice choice Anon! I hope you will enjoy this ficlet 😘
Also, to everyone:
I promise I haven't forgotten about these prompts, they are constantly on my mind, but it's uni finals for me right now and I barely have enough energy to study for my constant slew of exams as is🥲
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Thor was suddenly knocked back against the wall, gasping in surprise more than pain as the cobalt blue figure of Loki Laufeyson stood before him. Seething. Having accosted him as Thor was making his way back to his chambers.
“How dare you undermine me in front of the entire council,” Loki spat between clenched teeth. He looked beautiful and fierce, his body drawn tight in his anger, ready to strike like a snake—oh, did Thor love snakes.
Thor shook his head, trying to clear it a little, trying to hold back his smile. He wasn't successful in either.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I didn't undermine you, Loki,” Thor said, placatingly, “I simply didn't think you were being entirely honest of your intentions.”
“How would you even know, Odinson?” Loki said, his eyes burning with ire.
Thor laughed.
“You are so pretty when you're angry,” he said. “Still, beauty will get you nowhere in rebuilding that frozen realm of yours.”
Loki's expression changed between anger, shock and then anger again and, with a snarl he pushed Thor back again, making him knock his head against the gilded wall. Thor snarled and grabbed Loki by the front of his dark tunic, pulling him close until their noses touched.
“I could have you beheaded for this,” Thor threatened, but Loki's stance didn't falter. Instead, Thor felt the sharp edge of a dagger pressing under his jaw, too close to his throat.
“And I could have you dead in an instant, Your Majesty,” Loki drawled, a malicious smirk spreading against his face.
Thor gripped the Jotun Prince’s tunic tighter, pulling him in until they shared breath, their lips touching in a facsimile of a kiss.
“Do it. I dare you, little Prince,” he prompted, gripping at Loki's hip, smiling when Loki pushed forward against him, pressing their bodies together.
“You're insufferable,” Loki spat, like so many times before, closing the meager distance that separated their mouths in a biting kiss that bruised more than it conveyed anything else.
The dagger fell with a clang on the marble floor and Loki gasped when Thor pulled at his ebony hair, his nails raked under Thor's bare arms and before long Thor could taste blood in their mouths, his tongue stinging where it had scraped itself against Loki's sharp teeth. Loki smiled into their kiss, feral, driven by lust and anger as Thor gabbed at his waist and changed their positions, pressing Loki against the wall before tearing at his clothes.
“You're a beast, Allfather, how uncomely of you,” Loki mocked but still writhed his body this way and that to help Thor undress him, both of them uncaring of where they were.
“You make me one.”
Loki's laugh, mean and proud, rang under the corridor as Thor bit down hard on one blue shoulder.
