deconstruct | v2 OPEN POST;

CONCEPTS: slow, sweet, gentle intercrural done on a day with nothing to do in a place that is safter than safe. we were bored and we were lazy and we were happy. for the first time in our lives there was absolutely nothing we had to do.

1. You ever just SEE a guy and know he's good at choking someone out?

2. Oh, I also stabbed a guy Friday and he still asked me out

3. Going overboard is basically 75% of my personality

4. He has great stamina, he knows how to use his tongue, and he's hung like a goddamn Pegasus. I can overlook the man bun.

5. That's really the only reason I'm dating you, the prospect that I might get bacon

I don't remember taking this, but I thought you'd want to see it. [ There's an image attached. ]

[ The walls of the cell block are nigh vibrating from excitement. New prisoners. New cellmates. Tex can feel the energy rattling behind his teeth. It's time for new picks, and he's already got an eye on a sweet candy-assed brunet. ]

Hey, sweetheart, where's the million dollar smile?

one | two

[ This is supposed to be the simplest part of the objective, but Steve isn't too sure it's going to end that way by the time they decide it'll be quicker if they split up. He takes the upper most floor of the building while Andyr takes the one below, and nearly fifteen minutes passes before he decides to check in with him. He's almost swept the entirety of each room, which means Andyr shouldn't be too far behind. ]

Almost done here. How's everything down there?

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

1, 2, 3

[ It's two years to the day since they've made this arrangement official -- they don't quite put a name to it because it defies the trappings of labels, and Natasha's never been impressed with the whole traditional relationship paradigm.

So they are what they are, close and knitted together, her and her precious boy (he still gets feisty when she says this, but she knows he enjoys it), and they're currently celebrating their anniversary in one hell of an expensive hotel suite in the middle of the deep blue sea, with a massive glass dome above their heads where they could see all the sea creatures that swim past and over them. And oh, there are many; shimmering fish of all shapes and sizes, eels and squid and octopuses with a few rays here and there.

But what's most breathtaking, she thinks, is looking up at the belly of a great white shark as it lazily swims overhead, a much smaller shark -- its offspring -- swimming along. ]

That's beautiful. [ Witnessing the wonder and majesty of nature right here is a culmination of all the things that they had worked on together; getting Andyr acclimatised to society, to the extent that he could go to the other side of the world with her without a problem. That had taken a long time, baby steps and regressions and everything in between, but it's all worth it. She's curled up against him, her head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, his arm around her. ] Didn't you tell me before that shark babies ate each other in the womb?

( continued )

[Ronan's spine curves in reaction to the fingernails dragging across his back, his body sliding against Andyr's. He feels pleasantly helpless at the mercy of Andyr's desire, and if he was better at lying to himself, he might have been able to argue that he's absolved of the responsibility for this. Because, oh, how could he resist this? Andyr's mouth on his mouth and Andyr's hands running over his skin. A boy can only handle so much temptation.

But Ronan's not so delusional, and guilt nags at him for the heaviness between his legs and every moment spent in anticipation of Andyr's next touch. His lips part as he pants against Andyr's mouth, whispering a half-formed prayer before his tongue slides back in to savor the taste of him.

Ronan's hands find Andyr's nipples and he feels fleetingly scandalized, like he's discovered something forbidden, before his thumbs begin to rub experimental circles over them and he begins to consider that he might actually be capable of giving Andyr not just attention but pleasure.]

[When he was seven, a waitress gave him a candy cane and a coloring book. When he was fourteen, he stole one of those little red kettles right out from under a bell ringer's nose - it had just over seventeen dollars and a stick of gum in it, and it took him the better part of a day to get at it.

And that's pretty much the totality of Nick's experience with Christmas. Holidays are for families, people who have other people to celebrate with, not ones who are on the run. It's not like he's the grinch - he doesn't really have any hard feelings towards the people who do have trees and a ham on the table. That just hasn't been his life, and right now he wouldn't trade with them.

Hawaii was a spur of the moment idea, the kind that Nick excels at. But hey, it's warm, beautiful, and there's plenty of beaches which means plenty of fish for Andyr to bust a nut over. And of all those beautiful beaches on the island, they just happen to find one that's "clothing optional." Of course, Nick chose the naked option (because you always go with the naked option) and is now watching him from under the white faux fur brim of his Santa hat, comfortably sprawled on the sand.

The hat doesn't count, and neither would something else that Nick can think of.]

A bow. [Nick says the word like it's been on the tip of his tongue or elusively at the edge of his mind.] That's what you need. One well placed ribbon and Christmas really would come early.

[Innuendo? You decide, Andyr.]

[ His handlers explain to him in a semi-drugged haze that they want a good show tonight.

They get a show, just not the kind they want.

-

Konstantin doesn't remember the last time he had real blood on his teeth.

This is real blood. The fearful kind, flowing thick and warm into his mouth as he clutches fast onto one body, halting and jerking in his grip. It feels good, the fight, he can feel it churning and twisting in his gut. He wants to take his time, make him hurt, but there's no time. He can feel the prickle of Andyr's own adrenaline rush, so he bites down, severs the jugular, takes one last taste before dropping the body.

He's smeared blood all over the clothing they've forced him into--some kind of exhibitionist get up that was once a beautiful blue color, cut out at the spine and on the sides, gauzy and exotic-looking. It's dark, almost black now with blood, he realizes, casually sliding his tongue over his palm to lap up where a thick streak of the stuff has stayed fast to his skin.

Another man is lying on the ground, spared the agony with a broken neck, gouged out eyes.

He looks good to Konstantin's starved stomach.

Move. Move. Move.

He's tasted blood.

It's more than enough. Andyr is fumbling with the door panel and there are alarms. Here. Four doors down. Five floors up. He can hear a group of armed guards heading their way and by the cant of their boots, there are four of them, carrying rifles--whether they're loaded with tranquilizers or actual live rounds is anyone's guess, they all rattle the same in their casings.

The man at his feet is drowning on his own blood still somehow.

He moves forward to meet Andyr at the doorway, reaching forward with his fingers and gripping fast at where the metal is soldered to metal.

Normally, one might put in a passcode to open the chamber.

But this is not normal and Konstantin is full of all kinds of rage, gripping the sides of the panel with Andyr and giving it a hard tug so that it tears from the wall with a sickening sound of metal twisting and warping and crumbling. ]

There are four, I can hear them-- [ he says, the footsteps coming louder still. ] We could take them.

[ They don't really have a choice, the door is opening. ]

nsfw nsfw /bangs fists on table

TFLNS

sav verse idk ok ( 1/2 )

for ya

nsfw

no subject

nsfw: sparring / sex

nsfw: hc shit

anniversary.

no subject

nude hawaiian beaches, merry christmas

rage rage against the dying light