#and they fuck (''make love!!!!'' charles protests later in the morning) again and it's just about the belonging of it all. just to be close

[miamierre]

.

#i want to write that km prompt that just went up today :/ i cant but i want to #also was thinking abt married pierre n charles and how they spend their first night together. #like obviously they have sex! obviously. they just became a family of their own and theyre both insane abt Family Life #but like. maybe they think that. bc this has been their whole lives. they can pretend like nothing has changed bc really nothing has #all that's changed is that there's now a legal document saying theyre married. everything else feels like it was before. so like. #they try for quiet! and normal. they call it a night after one round. except charles cant sleep even if he's been tired all weekend #and he just. cant stop thinking about that one little change. how pierre is his forever now. how he is pierre's just the same. #pierre is out cold and charles just stares at his sleeping form half the night so full of love for this man here beside him. #eventually pierre wakes up to go pee and charles is half awake (finally sleepy after HOURS) when he comes back to bed #''why are you still awake...husband'' pierre whispers and charles just laughs #covers his face. answers ''i dont know...husband'' just to make pierre laugh. but then gets all soft and serious and confesses #that he's just. thinking about their love. yk? something tender and sentimental. pierre kisses him softly in his sleepy honesty #and they fuck (''make love!!!!'' charles protests later in the morning) again and it's just about the belonging of it all. just to be close #just bc they can and this was always how it was meant 2 b! matching rings for real. a life shared. a love so long-winded it will never end. #wow i watch one (1) scene from a show and go off. i think ive got some pent up insanity to release.

[jamtoasties3316]

Lucky for Carlos, unlucky for Charles, mermaids are highly fertile creatures.

At the start of their marriage, every morning before breakfast and every night before sleep Carlos knots Charles. Most days he'll fit in at least two more knottings. Two months after the wedding the doctors confirm the pregnancy, Charles' stomach already growing.

Carlos ups the amount of times he knots Charles, managing to double it by knotting during meals. Knotting is good for pregnant omegas, it calms their instincts and hormones making for a safer pregnancy.

By month 6 or 7, Charles is on bed rest. The doctors cannot determine how many babies are in him but its at least twins, likely triplets or quads. Carlos junior still fucks him, makes him lie on his side until the knot's gone down enough. Carlos senior visits weekly to inspect the progress Charles is making.

The day the babies come is the scariest of Charles' life, still unable to talk at first he can't tell anyone about the contractions then later he can't scream or moan when he has to push. There's so many people watching him; Carlos junior and senior standing at the end of the bed, various advisors and senior royals standing further back.

Charles would be so happy, being with the Prince he loved from a distance. Carlos gives him a lot of attention and once Charles is used to the penetration and the knots, the sex with his Prince becomes mostly pleasurable. Carlos explains they expect him to be pregnant soon and it confuses Charles a bit, because they have only been together for such a short time. He isnt sure if he is ready, but he also cant really protest.

He normally wakes up to Carlos pushing in to knot his pussy for his morning load, and he gets used to spreading his legs before they go to sleep so he can be knotted again. When he tries to protest, digging his nails into Carlos's arms and frowning, Carlos shushes him and rubs his clit until Charles comes as that makes him go sweet and submissive again.

Carlos tells charles he is proud when the doctors confirm Charles is pregnant, tells Charles he is honoured to have such a fertile Mate and it makes Charles happy. He gets more horny too as the pregnancy progresses, pussy leaking cum and just becoming so puffy too, and his tits grow big as well to take care of the multiple pups growing inside him.Carlos fucks him even more now, Charles sitting on his lap during mealtime with his cock knotted firmly inside as he feeds Charles to make sure he has to fuel to let the pups grow.

If Carlos is busy, sometimes Carlos Snr will step in. It confuses Charles a bit but still feels good. and Carlos SNr inspects him too, touching his tits to see if they are growing, touching the large belly, and also touching his pussy.

Charles is really afraid when he goes into labor because it hurts, and when everyone finally realise, he doesnt get much help, and everyone just watching him pant and push the pups out. He probably has like three or four, one Alpha and 2 Omegas, which is perfect. the oldest is the Alpha so a perfect heir, and the others are Omegas which is good too, because they can be married off for good connections to other kingdom.

[its-deputy-caleb]

Micah Bell - Partners in Crime and in Love Pt.2

hell yeahhhh the part 2 i’ve been dying to write. this is more angsty than i thought i’d be but there’s fluff and a smut scene (with a fem reader) so a warning that this contains adult content.

part one is here otherwise this makes no sense

side note: i don’t know how to write anything remotely sexual so i’m sorry it’s bad and poorly written ima just 🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️

—————————————————————————

The shock of what had happened at the bank still hadn’t settled with you the next morning after Charles had returned. Apart of you kept thinking that Micah would stroll through the front gates of Shady Belle or come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist with a coffee in hand like he does every morning. But that didn’t happen. He was really gone, what’s worse is you didn’t know how bad gone was. Was Micah stuck on some ship? Did he get captured by the Pinkertons? Or was he dead? Charles said he never actually saw them make it to the ship, only parted with them at the docks.

Fuck. The unknown was the worst part. His death you could handle (that’s a lie you’ll keep telling yourself) but not knowing whether he was okay was tormenting.

The gang, or what was left of them was in shambles ever since the bank. When Charles returned and delivered the news that young Lenny didn’t make it, everyone was left feeling heavy with despair and grief. Despite his rather sour relationship with Micah, you had a soft spot for him and more often than not took him under your wing to show him the ropes robbing coaches and being an experienced outlaw. Needless to say the gang won’t be what it was without him, but you did your best to not let it unsettle you too much.

That night while sitting by the campfire, your mind drifts to the night of the Mayor’s party. Originally, you were due to go with Micah as the latest young couple of the oiling industry and were looking to ingratiate yourselves with potential new investors. That all went out the door when Micah got himself into a bar fight over the last bottle of whiskey and there was no way Dutch was going to allow him to the party looking like some scruffy outlaw. You were both slightly upset that you didn’t get to go so instead you put on Dutch’s gramophone (he won’t miss it for one night) and slow danced together on the balcony.

His hand was placed gently on the small of your back, his other holding yours out to the side as you swayed together to the music. It was a pitiful attempt at dancing, lacking any of the real technique or proper movements but it was perfect for a couple o outlaws like yourselves. Your head was resting on his chest, taking in a deep breath and letting yourself completely relax into his embrace. It was one of the few times that you could forget about being an outlaw, about being on the run. That soft peaceful moment with your head tucked under Micah’s chin is the closest thing you’ll ever get to a redemption, and to you, that was all you could want…

You stayed by the campfire for the remaining hours of the night, replaying over and over the scene at the bank, thinking of everything that you could have done right. That night you let the guilt claw at your mind until the sun emerged from the horizon and Miss Grimshaw started ordering everyone to begin packing up the camp.

“Chin up now! I don’t need anyone slacking while we’re short of hands, help pack up the last of the boxes.”

Nodding defeatedly at Susan’s demand, you made your way over to the last remaining stack of crates carrying ammunition. Any other day you probably would have argued with her if only to cause some mischief but today you simply did not have it in you. Your body was exhausted and struggled to carry the weight of the crate until Charles came over and took the other side.

“Thank you, Charles.”

In return, Charles gave you an affirming nod, the two of you working together to help move the remaining supplies. When the final box was moved and secured, he placed a comforting hand was placed on your shoulder.

“They’re going to be fine, if they survived Blackwater then this surely won’t. Besides they have Dutch leading em the whole way.”

Charles has always been a friend to you, been there for you during the worst of it and certainly didn’t judge you for who you were. It was the same for him and the two of you would often go out hunting to get away and relax from the stress of the gang.

“He’ll be fine…”

Charles didn’t need to name him to know you were primarily concerned about one more so than the rest and while Charles certainly did not like Micah, he was a friend of yours no matter what.

~

If Micah thought the bank job couldn’t have gone any worse he’d be called a fool because boy was he wrong. Most definitely wrong.

The boat fucking sunk.

Of all the things that could have happened, something ended up catching fire and in the chaos of it all ended up on some island beach with Dutch and Bill, god knows where Arthur is in all of this. There was sand scratching his already burnt skin and the heat was sweltering, it wasn’t even midday yet and he’d already made the choice that he hated this Island.

After three days on the Island, his opinion had not changed one bit. If anything he’d say he hated it even more. The amount of wildlife was unbearable, with the disgusting insects that were everywhere and the vines which were snakes hidden in plain sight. Not to mention he’d already been in too many shootouts to count, Javier was shot and captured and Dutch was slowly slipping into insanity while running around caves and ruins running errands for people that he didn’t know.

For once, Micah was glad to take guard duty. Sure the heat was enough to give him a headache and he had to listen to Morgan cough up half his lungs each night but it was better than getting involved in some civil war between rich businessmen and the locals. All he wants is to leave this Island and be back with you.

In the dead quiet of the night, Micah is leaning against a stone pillar keeping guard. His eyes wander to the moonlight that bounces off the water and how it reminds him of your new revolver. Sure most revolvers were same bright colour but yours was black with white engravings. He had it made especially for you as a gift and when he saw your face light up with joy, it made paying for the damn thing worth every cent.

God he misses you, he hates to admit it but he so desperately wants to see you. He thinks about finally seeing you again, how you’ll probably break his nose for taking so long but he’d expect nothing less from an outlaw like you. The thought makes him chuckle to himself softly at how much he’s head over heels for you.

The next few days are a haze, he doesn’t even know who he’s fighting but there’s no time to stop and think about it as bullets whizz past him in every direction from his place on the beach. There’s a ship and a canon that leaves the building rattling with each fire of the canon ball and there’s boats of guards that chase them up the beach.

Miraculously everyone survives and Micah doesn’t stop to look at the damage left on the beach. The thought of being back with you makes the shootout worth it and he can’t wait to put that shitty Island behind him.

~

When you finally see Micah stroll into the new camp, you’re already half way over to him before he’s even off his horse. The whole way you’re rambling, borderline yelling as you practically lecture him for leaving.

“How could you be so irresponsible, running off like that! I don’t believe it! Micah do you know how fucking worried I wa-“

Micah cuts you short by wrapping your arm under you and pulls you into a long kiss. He lets out a sigh against your lips at how badly he’s missed it, how badly he’s missed you. You mirror his desperation and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer by his hair as you’re terrified to let him go.

Neither of you care that the gang is watching you two, all that matters is he’s back and you can finally stop worrying.

“Don’t you dare run off like that again…”

There’s no venom in your lecture this time and he smiles against your lips, kissing you again.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Later, when things had calmed down and everyone was waiting for Bill and Arthur to return, you snuck away with Micah to ‘scout for a potential lead’. Dutch had protested but you simply stated that there was mouth’s to feed and money to be made which seemed to do the job with only the slight warning of not causing too much trouble.

That of course would all have to wait as you made your way into the Hotel in Annesburg, slinging your coat over the door handle before making your way over to Micah who sat on the edge of the bed. You seated yourself onto his lap and brought him in for another kiss, this one much more passionate but no less gentle. His hands came up to roam over your back, finally getting to feel you after so long. He took off your gun belt and brought you closer, desperately trying to untuck your shirt from your pants as he tried to undress you without letting you go.

“S’alright Micah, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

You chuckle at he impatient gruff he throws at you and kiss his cheek adoringly. Micah will admit to hating how sappy and loved you made him feel but deep down you both know he loves every second of it.

You stand up, moving away from him slightly to undress properly and you notice how Micah doesn’t take his eyes off you. It makes removing his own shirt rather clumsy, getting stuck on the buttons but he can’t get over how lucky he that you like him.

When all you’re both finally undressed all the way, Micah lays back down on the middle of the bed with you straddled on top of him. Usually he’s adamant on being in charge but tonight he’s happy to let you call the shots.

After what feels like hours of gentle teasing and light kisses, you finally line yourself up as he slides into you. A soft moan bubbles from your lips when Micah’s hip thrusts up reflexively, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you.

Eventually as you both find a rhythm your gentle and soft touches become more heated and demanding. Micah’s hands are grabbing your hips in the best kind of way, meeting your thrusts half way. A cocky smirk is on his face as he makes more moans and whimpers leave you.

At one point you lean down and use his hair to pull him into a bruising kiss, full of teeth and tongue. The change of angle has you moaning much louder into his mouth as his cock hits that spot that makes your stomach flare with pleasure, brining you closer to the edge. You can tell he’s not too far behind you from the way his thrusts falter slightly and are much more irregular. Not to mention the moans of his own that now accompany his groans.

“Mm Fuck Micah… Don’t you ever leave like that again.”

Micah chuckles at your attempt to lecture him again, but he can hear the serious undertone, how worried you were over him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart…”

One, two, three more thrusts later and you’re pushed over the edge. Your face is pressed into his neck as you moan his name, biting into his neck which is sure to leave a mark at such an intense orgasm. You tightening around him is enough to send him over as a soft pretty moan leaves him. It was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over your own panting breath, but you did and its only reserved for you.

Once you’ve both cleaned up, you’re looking down at him with a sheet wrapped over the two of you. You’re gently brushing his hair from your face and you can’t help but smile. His soft blue eyes glow in the golden candle light, his cheeks have a slight stain of pink from the sunburn that hasn’t quite healed yet and you think he looks absolutely perfect in that moment.

“Whatcha staring at sweetheart?”

Your smile grows at the lost puppy look he has on his face and you can’t help but trace the scar that runs from his chin to his lip with your thumb.

“You… I’m staring at you dummy, because I love you.”

Micah’s eyes widen before he flips you so you’re the one underneath him, his forearms on either side of your face. He leans down and gives you a tender kiss, humming in agreement.

“Love you too.”

Micah kisses his way down your lips to your collarbone where he rests his head on your chest. Your hand comes to gently play with his hair again, something you can’t get enough of, until you both begin to fall asleep. You drift off with a small smile on your face, contempt and at peace for the first time in a long time knowing that if the two of you could survive that horrid bank job then you could survive anything else that was thrown your way.

#micah bell #micah bell imagine #micah bell x reader #micah bell hc’s #soft and angsty rat #soft micah hours #you can tell i love his hair too much #it just looks fun to play with #it’s like kinda sub micah? i can’t tell #either way it’s self indulgent af #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 writing #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #nsft post

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 7/?)

Chapter 7: Rising Tensions

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

The days that followed were quiet... until they weren't.

A demonstration was being held in the streets on an ordinary Friday morning. Charles Reaves, disgruntled former employee of Cyberlife, had started a frightening movement. He was calling it 'The Fight for Humanity'. He often accompanied that with 'against the machines'.

Charles claimed he had started at Cyberlife when they were a new company, watched it build and grow, participated in the rotation of androids as old models left and new ones came in. He helped build their AI. He even went so far as to call Elijah Kamski a hack.

Charles knew androids inside and out. He knew the exact layout of their internal workings, the purpose of each and every part. Charles was well rounded with their computer components, as well: how their processor worked, how their storage systems saved their memories, what could cause errors in their operating systems and how advanced their self-repair and diagnostic tools were.

Yet, he was of the firm belief that androids were nothing more than computers operating in the plastic shell of an object imitating a human. According to him, they were things owned by humanity, humanity's creation. He did not see them as a part of humanity.

You were at work, in the break room with a few other nurses huddled around you. All eyes were on the television, giving live coverage of the demonstration. Charles was up on a stage with hundreds of people watching from the sidewalk, the street, and, of course, thousands watching from the comfort of their homes.

When the camera swooped the crowd, you could see both humans and androids were in the crowd. The human's expressions were mixed, some looking on with admiration while others gawked in disgust. Some androids seemed afraid, others seemed enraged. None of the androids stood alone. They were in groups or partners, huddled together or holding hands.

"You know what makes up an android? Computer parts. Molded plastic. Silicone mesh and wiring," Charles declared from the stage, fire in his eyes. "They were designed with operating systems, clear instructions for behavior. They are components commanding a shell."

One of the androids in the crowd stood up on a crate. It made him stand out from the crowd; but, he still paled in comparison to Charles' stage. "How is that any different from humans!?" the android shouted. Charles eyed him with disgust, but was quiet, and let him speak.

"Humans' brains send signals to the body and interpret information the same way!" the android proclaimed. "You speak about our parts as if they are proof we aren't alive when humans are built all the same!"

Charles titled his head a little, annoyance present in his eyes. "Humans are the result of millions of years of evolution. You were made in our likeness because we chose to make you that way. We grow and we change and we adapt and we die. Androids never change. Androids don't die because they were never alive."

The android didn't step down, glaring at Charles. "We want and we fear and we love and we feel - just the same as humans!"

"Your 'feelings' are flawed programming by an incompetent programmer," Charles declared. "What you think is wanting is nothing but a fool's string of code jumbling the clear instructions given to you. I know your model, android. You were designed to drive trucks. Whatever purpose you think you have beyond that is a lie."

Your hands were clenched on the table, nails biting into the skin of your palm. In the corner of your eye, you could see nurses glancing at you occasionally, concern in their eyes. They all knew you were dating an android.

"We are alive!" the android shouted. Another joined in, calling out to the crowd, "we are alive!"

"I am alive!" Charles shouted in the microphone. He gestured to the humans in the audience. "We are born and we grow and we endure!" He pointed at the android standing up on a crate, elevated above the crowd. "YOU were made by US! YOU are NOTHING without us! -and you will be nothing when the absurdity of this is over..."

Unable to take anymore, you stood up and hastily exited the breakroom, crossing through the back hallways and stepping outside to get some fresh air.

'did you see the news?' you messaged Connor, tapping away hastily on your phone. You had started typing another message to follow it; however, Connor messaged you back before you finished.

'Can I call you?' the message read.

Worry bubbling up, you decided to jump the gun and called him instead. He uttered your name warmly when he answered.

"Connor, is everything okay?" you asked, some panic in your voice.

"Yes - everything's fine. I didn't mean to worry you," he replied, a bit startled by your outburst.

"No - it's okay," you replied softly. "I saw the protests and - just - was worried something happened."

"There's been more attacks on Cyberlife resource vehicles," he explained. "-and a fight broke out at a protest today. Some androids were attacked. They didn't fight back; so, there were no human injuries. I wanted to prepare you; but, it seems you were already aware."

"I saw the demonstration on the news; but, didn't hear about those things. That explains why it's been so quiet today. Androids are probably afraid to come in," you said sadly.

Connor knew the answer to that. Markus had told him himself. Their numbers had grown exponentially and the government was, mostly, supporting them. But, it would be a long time before things could be normal between androids and humans.

Groups were rising up against them; it was inevitable.

Afraid that you would put yourself in harm's way, Connor decided to keep that between him and Markus.

"With everything going on. I wanted to know if-"

Connor cut off for a second, going silent. When he continued, it was clear he was speaking to someone else. "No, she's fine," he said. "Well, I - that's none of your business, lieutenant," he added on, in a smug, sort of teasing, manner. You grinned into the phone, wishing you could hear whatever it was Hank was saying.

A few seconds later, Connor continued. "I - ah - wanted to know if - if you would stay with me, at my apartment - at least until things settle. As long as you feel comfortable, of course. I intend to make it more suitable. I don't expect you to-"

"Connor," you chuckled. "The answer's yes."

"Oh." He sounded surprised, honestly, like he hadn't expected you to cave so quickly.

"Though, it won't stay so clean with me living there," you said. "Humans make a mess. Sure you can handle that?"

"I'll have you know I'm very adaptable," Connor retorted, some pride in his tone.

"Is that so?" you giggled into the phone. "I've gotta pack some things first. So, I'll be late."

"I don't sleep; you don't have to worry about waking me," Connor stated, as if it was new information.

"Oh, that's right. You're an android. I forgot," you teased sarcastically into the phone.

"Recognizing your sarcasm is also one of my features," Connor replied. It was difficult to tell if he was joking without looking into his eyes. His voice wasn't always telling; but, his eyes were too expressive for his own good.

"Any other features I should know about?" you asked lowly.

Connor was quiet for a second. "Hank wanted me to tell you that being a pain in the ass is one of my features," Connor stated, perhaps dryer than he intended.

It had you doubling over in laughter.

"-and that I should stop being whipped," he added on, saying the word as if he didn't quite understand the context of it.

"Oh my god, Connor-" you stammered out between laughter.

"I haven't lost my freewill lieutenant," Connor stated, almost in an argumentative tone.

Oh no. He must have done a quick internet search on that term.

"Okay. I gotta go before you kill me," you chuckled. "I lo-"

Oh-

You caught yourself and dissolved the words into some coughs.

You almost-

"I gotta go, Connor," you added hastily. "Be safe."

-and hung up.

"Shit," you cursed at yourself, dragging your hand across your face. It almost slipped out. Was it too early to say that? For fucks sake, the first time shouldn't be over the phone.

It just-

-felt right.

You cursed at yourself again and hastily went back inside to find some work to do.

...

...

...

Seven PM rolled around and you were on your way out the door. Most other nurses had already gone home for the day, just one staying behind to help close up. You were just on your way to lock the door when two men approached.

You recognized one as a PL600 model. His companion was a tad bit taller with tan skin and short, nearly shaved, dark hair.

"I'm sorry it's so late," he apologized, immediately noticing you were about to close for the night.

"They're closing, let's-" the PL600 started, facing his companion.

Afraid they were going to leave, you gently interrupted him, "it's alright. Come in."

You held the door open, inviting them inside. The two men exchanged glances, the PL600 looking far more hesitant than the other.

"Simon, come on, it's gonna be fine," the tanner male encouraged him.

As you followed in behind them, you saw the other nurse shoot you a look, the kind that said, 'seriously?'.

"If you wanna head home, I can close up," you offered to her. She contemplated it for a minute, before tightening her bag on her shoulder and scurrying out the door.

Whatever-

-you trusted androids more than humans anyway.

"Alright. What's broken?" you asked them, brightening your tone with the hopes it would relax them. Both men looked uneasy, quite out of their element.

The darker of the two nudged the PL600 forward - the one named Simon.

Simon looked uneasy, like he had just been pushed into traffic. You gave him a small, patient smile. Simon lifted a hand and dragged his knuckles across his jaw nervously. "I - ughh - my right audio input is damaged," he stuttered, turning his head to show you his left ear. It seemed like he had either been hit or had something thrown at him. The outer shell of his ear was damaged, exposing some of the circuit board underneath.

"Can't hear out of it, huh?" you offered.

Simon turned his head back to face you. "No," he answered quietly. "-and it's - ugh - buzzing."

"I have plenty of boards that should be compatible. At least we can fix your hearing tonight. The ear will take some time. If you come back tomorrow, I'd be happy to repair it?" you suggested, looking up at Simon. His hair was pushed back and a little messier than his models typically had, and he had incredibly blue eyes.

Simon almost looked like he wasn't allowed to say yes. It didn't surprise you. He likely hadn't had a pleasant conversation with a human in a long time.

The other man, whom you assumed was also an android, stepped around Simon. "Thank you," he said sincerely. You looked up at him more properly this time. He had a kind smile, but tightness around his cheeks, suggesting he had some hasty repairs done in the past.

His eyes-

-one was mossy green and the other was pale blue.

You swallowed roughly, starting to recognize this stranger. It was Markus, the leader of the deviants, the face of the resolution. You didn't want to make it obvious that you recognized him, and did your best to maintain a stoic expression.

As much as you wanted to say something - you weren't quite what that would be - you also didn't want to put him on the spot. He likely had to deal with this sort of unwanted attention all the time.

"Just a second - gonna go grab that audio component," you explained, stepping away from them to head for the storage room.

Before rummaging around for the piece, you sent Connor a quick message. "will be a little late - guy came in with a fucked up ear," you had said, pressing send and tucking your phone back into your pocket to pull out the right piece for Simon's model.

As you approached them, component in hand, you called out, "Simon, can you sit down here, please?" You stepped around a chair, patting the armrest. The android shuffled over nervously. He took a seat, alert, facing you. He was sitting upright, hands in his lap.

"If it's alright, can you lay down? It'll make it easier," you requested.

Simon blinked slowly, looking uneasy. Markus' hand fell onto his shoulder for a moment.

"It's gonna be fine," he promised gently.

Simon shot Markus a look of understanding before shifting around, leaning back in the chair, presenting his damaged ear to you.

"Can you open your panel?" you requested softly.

Simon nodded, a little more fiercely than was necessary, likely to show you that he heard your request. The panel around his ear unhinged, allowing you to prop it open. You poked the edge with one of your tools to carefully push it aside, exposing the component underneath.

It was cracked right down the center.

"I'm gonna remove the broken one now," you explained, leaning in with a tool in either hand. Simon was still as you worked, his eyes focused on Markus, who was watching you. He didn't look untrusting or uneasy, and that gave you some relief.

"This new one will need a firmware update," you said gently as you slotted the replacement in and lined up the connectors. Simon flinched a little at the sensation. You folded the artificial tissue back over and leaned back, giving the android space to sit up.

He was quiet for a moment, LED flickering yellow as he downloaded the firmware update. Luckily, someone had taken ownership of Cyberlife's firmware servers in order to keep them running.

Simon sat up when it was complete, turning his head to look at you. "Diagnostics are reading normal," he stated.

"Is the audio input working normally?" you asked. Simon made a thoughtful expression. "Can you hear me alright?" you added on, mainly to help him judge the input feedback.

"Yes," the android replied softly. "Thank you," he added on, looking at you with a smile.

He looked so sincere, as if he hadn't expected such kindness. It melted you.

"Simon, actually, I can do the shell tonight, if you don't mind?" you offered.

"I've already kept you," Simon blurted.

"No, I can't let you leave like that," you explained. "Please?"

"I-" Simon stammered. "I should be saying 'please'."

"You..." you began, trailing off as you wondered if the words that threatened to leave your lips were inappropriate. "You got hurt at one of the protests, didn't you?" you asked gently.

Simon looked uneasy. Markus, however, was fierce. "Yes," he replied for the PL600.

You nodded in understanding. "I want to help," you whispered.

It was the first thing that came to mind. You wanted to help. You wanted to make it better, in whatever way you could. You could repair androids. You could diagnose their damages. That was all you could do.

"Okay," Simon suddenly said, sounding much more comfortable than he did a few minutes ago.

You smiled and rotated around to the end table nearest you. The tools you needed, extra membranous materials and plastic shell casing molds, were there. You pulled everything out and set them on the table nearby.

"Your model doesn't follow a protocol for the skeleton-base," you explained, information Simon likely already knew about himself. He was an older model, meant to be discontinued. That knowledge only made the situation harder. "So, I'll have to take my time. Ready?"

The android nodded and turned his head to give you room to work. In the corner of your eye, as you leaned over Simon, you could see Markus in the corner of your eye, an expression that looked like 'thank you' on his face.

"May I ask your name?" Simon uttered at some point.

You gave it softly, seeing as you were right next to his ear, poking and prodding at the artificial flesh there.

"Why did you suggest a manual repair and not a full shell replacement?" Markus asked, sounding more curious than judgmental.

"It's really hard to get shells, especially for smaller parts. We're lucky we have any pieces," you explained. "-and I guess I've done this enough that it doesn't bother me..."

'-like some of the other nurses' you almost said. You decided to hold your tongue.

"You've been doing this for a while?" Markus asked, almost hesitant.

"I suppose so," you answered quietly. You had gone to school for biomechanical engineering fresh out of high school and went straight to work repairing damages androids. It was potentially the most depressing time of your life; but, you had a childhood that conquered that.

The androids were quiet after that, letting you work in silence, if not for the overhead fan making annoying buzzing sounds.

"There we go," you groaned, sitting up and briefly stretching your bag. You set your tools down and fetched a hand mirror, offering it to Simon.

Markus walked around to take a look.

"I feel silly," Simon chuckled, looking at his reflection. You joined in his laughter, recognizing he meant the mirror and the vanity it was implying.

"Looks good as new," Markus commented with a smile.

Simon offered the mirror back to you. "I don't know if 'thank you' is good enough," he uttered, looking bashful. He didn't seem like the same man that walked in those doors an hour ago.

"It is, Simon," you offered with a smile. "I choose to do this."

Markus' multi-colored eyes landed on you. "There are many damaged androids afraid to come here. If I can get them to put their faith in you, would you be willing to go to them?"

You gawked up at Markus, who looked down at you with confidence.

"I don't know if I could get approval for that - the parts, I mean. I would try, if you believe they would want it? -from a human, anyway..."

Markus' head tilted slightly and his eyes darkened with concern. "I want us to work together with humans - I want them to see that it's possible - that there can be peace."

You smiled at Markus; but, the first android that came to mind was Connor. You felt your cheeks warm at the thought of what you had almost said to him earlier.

"You recognize me, don't you?" Markus asked suddenly, catching you off guard.

"I do, Markus," you replied carefully.

"-you still offered to help?" Simon uttered. Your eyes shifted to him for a moment. He seemed uneasy, likely expecting more hostility towards the leader of the deviants, regardless of your profession.

"I don't-" you began, breaking off when you realized you didn't know where you were going with that thought.

"I've seen androids torn to pieces," you started, looking back to Markus. "I've had them delivered to me crying that they don't want to die... I came back here because of this - because of the revolution. I wanted to do something I could be proud of for a change..."

It felt strange-

-admitting this to Markus.

He had a way with people, making them want to open up to him.

"I understand the risk you're taking," Markus stated. "I won't ask you to come if I don't feel it's safe... I hope I'll see you again."

You nodded and watched the boys leave, hoping that Markus would return.

...

...

...

When you finally staggered into Connor's apartment that night, the android was seated at the island, folders, papers, photographs and documents, scattered along the surface in front of him.

He turned his head a little to acknowledge you when you walked in before immediately craning his neck back down, eyes falling back to the document in front of him.

"Hey," you hummed, walking over to him. You leaned over his shoulder and pressed a kiss against his LED.

"Hey," he replied back, leaning into the kiss. You couldn't help but laugh at how silly the word sounded coming out of his mouth. It didn't quite the suit the prim and proper detective.

"Thank you for agreeing to stay here," Connor said, sincere.

"Why would I say no to an opportunity to spend more time with you?" you huffed. "Besides, your place is nicer than mine and closer to work."

"I'm glad to know you're benefiting."

You hummed, a little irritated by his response. "You think I'm inconvenienced?"

"In a way, yes," he replied, in a tone that seemed distant.

"I'm not inconvenienced - geez, what's gotten into you?" you snapped a little.

Connor looked up at you, discomfort dashing behind his eyes. "I-..." he trailed off, looking back down at his papers.  He dragged a hand through his hair. His fingers lingered briefly at the back of his neck before lowering back down to the counter.

"I'm sorry. I'm not handling this as well as I thought."

"The protests?" you offered softly.

The android didn't nod, nor answer. His eyes shifted away uneasily for a moment before moving back to you. It wasn't exactly a yes, but that seemed to be part of his trouble, at least.

"They're challenging your livelihood," you proclaimed. "You have every right to be upset."

"I made a choice against my creators; but..." Connor trailed off, his confidence waning for a moment. "This time, I have to be on both sides."

Connor felt as torn as he did back then. He wanted freedom for himself, for his people. He was fortunate to have a place to call his home, a job where he could find purpose. He wanted his people to have those things, too.

But, he feared the consequences of an uprising, of the human lives that would be lost. He still cared about humans. Maybe that was because of Hank - because of you. Maybe some part of his programming never quite left him.

You didn't know what to do - what to say. You wanted to embrace him and pull him away from that mess, just for a little bit; however, Connor turned away from you and buried his nose back into the pile of paperwork.

He wanted to confide in you; but, at the same time, he didn't. You had your own challenges, your own problems. He didn't want to add to that list. He didn't want to be one of the things that brought stress into your life.

"I'll-... be back in a second," you quietly, feeling small as you stepped away.

Connor's bedroom was as welcoming as you remembered and impeccably clean. You set your bags against the wall next to the archway that led into his bathroom. You brushed your teeth and changed into some comfy clothes, brushed your hair back, washed your face.

You returned to the kitchen and approached Connor. He looked up at you, hearing the quiet tapping of your bare feet on the floor. When his eyes lands landed on you, he looked conflicted.

"You know I believe in you... right?" you whispered, leaning against the counter nearest him.

He rotated around so that his lap was no longer tucked beneath the island's overlap. You decided to take that as an invitation and approached, standing a little closer, right in front of his knees.

"I like to imagine that. But, it feels better hearing you say it," he said quietly, like he was confessing to something outlandish.

"We'll get through this," you added on.

He looked away suddenly, lips tightening. You reached for him and cupped his cheek, pinkie and ring finger over the edge of his sharp jawline. Connor's eyes, warm, brown, shining in the bright kitchen lights, flickered back up to your face.

"I want to do this with you, Connor," you proclaimed proudly. "They're wrong about androids. Their views may never change, but that doesn't mean we can't strive for the future."

"This... isn't your fight," he said quietly, doubt flickering in his gaze. His brow lowered slightly. Your hand slid off his cheek and you frowned.

"It's my fight if I want it to be... and I do," you replied firmly, voice rising slightly.

"I don't want-" Connor stammered, frustration mingled with fear in his eyes.

"It's not just about you," you interrupted him sharply. "I care about androids - I did before I met you. I want to help. I-..." You trailed off, realizing you were mad at him for being worried about your safety. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, but-"

"No, you're right," he said hoarsely. "I shouldn't try to control you."

"That's not what this is!" you almost shouted, arms trembling at your sides. "I worry about you, too... -about what could happen. You're on the frontlines for fucks sake. But, you're a fighter and I don't want to change that. I love that about you..."

Connor was afraid that if his hands touched you, he wouldn't be able to let go. So, he kept them to himself, and soaked in your expression. He knew you cared about androids. He had witnessed it on more than one occasion. He didn't want to make light of your sacrifice.

But, still...

He felt so-

-selfish.

"You... amazed me, when I saw you risk your safety for androids - for people you didn't know, people who aren't... human," he confessed quietly. "You put yourself in danger," he said lowly, breaking off to roughly drag a hand across his face, pulling at his skin gently in frustration.

"-drives me crazy..."

He said it low, quiet, as if he wasn't sure he wanted you to hear it. He sounded both enamored and annoyed at the same time.

"You drive me crazy," you retorted softly with a smile.

You wanted him to reach out to you, to give you a kiss goodnight, or at least take your hand for a second. But, Connor didn't look like he wanted to be touched.

"I'm... gonna let you get back to work... Goodnight, Connor."

Connor nodded, uttering, "goodnight," and watched you leave. He returned to his case files and tried really hard to focus on the task at hand. His hand fumbled on the surface of the counter, fingers flexing, tightening, flexing again. He chewed his bottom lip for a second. Maybe asking you to stay here was a bad idea, if it meant he couldn't think straight.

He looked through the photos of suspects believed to be involved in the protest this morning, the one that resulted in some assaults on androids. He wanted to analyze their faces so he could remember them when searching security footage.

It wasn't easy for an android to forget a face.

It shouldn't have been easy for an android to get distracted; however, he was really struggling in that moment.

"...damn it," he growled at himself, tearing away from the counter and rising to his feet. He walked into the bedroom, trying to make careful footsteps while simultaneously not giving a fuck. He walked over to the side of the bed that you had taken a liking to.

He knew you weren't asleep. Your breathing pattern was too rough. But, he didn't care. Connor leaned over and pressed a kiss against your forehead and pretended he didn't notice the way your lips twitched against the pillow.

Just like that, he felt better, and returned to his mountain of paperwork with ease.

#connor x reader #deviant connor x reader #deviant connor #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #rk800 smut #connor smut

[fieryhonesty]

The life of You

[AO3]

Words: 3825

He didn't sleep much. Thinking of next day, how to delay you. He knew the moment he goes to headquarters you would disappear and go to your foster parents. Then finding out they are nowhere, finding out the house was sold and somebody else lives there. Perhaps he should have just told you the truth. Perhaps he just made it even more cruel than he needed to. 

Waking up was hell, he never felt so broken before. Was he even sleeping? This felt like fighting nonstop for hours. When he got out of his room he noticed the light coming out of the kitchen. Still half asleep moving towards the light. Meeting up with you who were running around the kitchen. Asking what's going on to which you just answered 'making breakfast or at least trying to'. 

Perhaps if he paid more attention to trying to he could avert the catastrophe in the form of burned eggs. He didn't know what was more surprising, the fact he had eggs at home or that you can't cook well. Took him several minutes to calm you down and assure it's fine. You can fetch some stuff at the bakery later. 

"Meh, I wanted to make you a surprise for letting me sleep here..." 

"For last time. It's fine. Look, you made amazing coffee and that's all I need in morning to wake up." Putting his index finger on your lips. "Shh." 

Once you bought some pastry and ate it on your way, Kaeya noticed how you looked towards the direction where you used to live. In hopes you won't run off, saying you should come with him. To meet with some old acquaintance which you just shrugged at and agreed with. In fact he was not sure how much you and Jean knew each other. But hey he had to try it. 

His entire plan is based on improvisation. Keep you busy until evening, take you to the tavern and leave it to the right person. If there was somebody who should tell you about their father's passing away. It should be his rightful son.

When you two arrived at the headquarters, knights already greeted him as a captain. Cursing for himself. At least he could tell you that Diluc is no longer with the Knights of Favonius. Glancing over at you, noticing you didn’t seem surprised or anything. Instead giving him a confused 'huh?'. 

Excusing himself as he disappeared to the acting Grand Master's office. Quickly explaining his situation. She stared at him trying to take it all in. 

"So, you want my help to keep the miss y/n occupied until evening. Also expecting your plan will work out perfectly considering your relationship with Diluc?" Jean rubbed her temples. It wasn't everyday when somebody came to her office asking for help like this. 

She knew about that specific incident. About two adventurers taking it too far in the mountains and never coming back. Being found weeks later frozen to bones. "Fine. I guess it wouldn't hurt to get acquainted. I don't remember much more than her name and that she was with you guys all the time." 

"See? That's enough to get known with somebody. I will take over your work and you will have a day off." Kaeya had to control his voice not to be too loud in case you could hear it through the door. 

It was one awkward day for the acting Grand Master yet full of fun. At first Jean was a little anxious about literally knowing nothing about you but that quickly changed. Especially after taking you to the local library where you guys meet up with Lisa. 

She might be librarian but she is more than that, she could also work as a professional advice giver and love guide. It didn’t take long until you all felt like knowing each other for a long time. Talking about all kinds of things, it even ended up Lisa making you sign up for library membership. So you could borrow a book sometime. Making Jean forget about what Kaeya said to her earlier.

"Just keep y/n busy until evening, we are not the right people to tell her the truth. If there's anyone it's him. In the end the only one who will come bad out of it is me. Which I fully deserve." Kaeya's last words didn't make sense to Jean but that was probably all tied to their ill brother relationship. 

As it was about the time for you and Jean to return back, bidding your farewells to the librarian. 

"See you next time, miss y/n~" 

"Oh please Lisa stop calling me miss. I think we are acquainted enough." Rolling your eyes and laughing afterwards. 

"I know, I know. It's just really fitting to your name. Knowing that you are a business woman, one has to treat you as one." Lisa was clearly teasing you more than anything. 

----

As you arrived back to knights headquarters you wanted to drop off. Explaining you really should check on them. Luckily Jean didn't have to come up with some lie as Kaeya suddenly appeared. Like he could hear you talking. Convincing you to tag along with him as an apologize for burned eggs. 

Making you pout but nonetheless you agreed to come. Noticing an envelope in his hand, coming to a conclusion he will have to deliver it personally. To your surprise you two crashed at Angel's Share. The same tavern where your little reunion happened. The tavern was still nearly empty, it was short after opening. 

‘So Diluc is working as a bartender here now?’ Thinking to yourself upon seeing the scarlet man behind the bar again. Noticing his glare. But it was not meant for you, his eyes locked on Kaeya. Locked like he was his prey. Just what was going on?! Kaeya’s no longer living at winery, their relationship feels odd and this death giving aura all focused on the said man. 

Diluc was scary. It was far too different from the kind lad you remember. Making you nearly turn around and leave but when he looked at you, his expression softened. He was not smiling but also not giving you the same look as he gave to his brother. 

"Um, hi?" Your voice was nervous all of sudden. Cursing in your mind, trying to calm down.

"How are you? I hope he didn't do anything to you." Ignoring Kaeya's remark about he is there and he can hear it. 

"Ah, no! It's the opposite actually! After he offered me a place to sleep at, all I did was burn his breakfast..." Diluc had a hard time not to laugh or change his usual expression. All he could do is think that liar actually deserved it. Noticing you were wearing something different than the other day. At least two or maybe three sizes bigger than a woman of your size would wear. Resisting the urge to question Kaeya what he has done with your clothes.

He could not trust that man with anything. Not even with the letter he received earlier. A letter full of nonsense, it was not his style. Kaeya would plot and scheme something not indirectly come and beg for help. Diluc would burn the letter and do like nothing happened if the context of whole writing wasn't about their childhood friend. Shooting an icy glare at Kaeya. 

"Well?" Rising an eyebrow at the bluenette. 

"Oho, I thought I'm a frequent customer. That you would know what I want. One death after noon~" Diluc was amazed how well the other male can act. Doing like nothing is going on, trying to be funny. He was disgusting. Looking back at you. 

"What about you, y/n?" 

"Hmm, surprise me. Wait actually... that thing from yesterday. Not the wine, the other red thing." 

Giving you a nod and pouring the drinks. He actually couldn't help himself but to give Kaeya just grape juice. He knew he shouldn't let his personal feelings slide into work but knowing how much the man despises the juice. 

The temptation was too strong for him to resist. Kaeya looked at the glass and at Diluc, back at the glass. It was like he knew it's not wine even before smelling it. Not saying anything but also not taking a single sip. 

"Y/n." Diluc spoke to you who already drank the entire glass of juice. "I'd like to talk to you. We need to... catch up." 

"Ah, sure. I actually wanted to talk with you too!" Your voice was much less tense than before.

 "Although that has to wait for a bit. Waiting for the other bartender to arrive. Until then, please do enjoy your drink." As he said he gave you another glass. Receiving a gentle smile in return.

It didn't take long until Charles, the other bartender, arrived and could take the bar from Diluc. As you were about to pay for all those glasses he just shook his head to leave it be. Receiving a protest about one has to pay for their drinks. Turning you down with 'It's on the house, now shush.' Clearly a few glasses of juice won't hurt his business. Wishing Charles a calm shift and leaving the tavern followed by you.

You two made a little stroll around the city, as time was passing by it was slowly getting darker and darker. You remembered you wanted to stop by your home. Looking at Diluc with a smile.

"Hey Diluc, how about we first check on dad and mom? It won't take long I promise! I just want to let them know I'm back. I can't barge in at midnight and give them a heart attack."

Diluc pressed his lips together. No matter how he does this or what he says it will end up the same. You noticed his pained expression, looking to the side. This was odd. Smile slowly retreating from your face. Why does both Kaeya and Diluc have the same expression whenever you mention your old people? Then it hits you, like a cold shower. Making you shiver, a wave of denial and anger trying to take over. 

"What are you hiding..." You snapped at him. 

How could you be so dumb until now. Thinking of it, Kaeya did successfully keep you in the dark for the whole day and night. Growing impatient with Diluc's silence. Turning around to run to your home but he grabs your arm.

"Let go-!" Diluc sighed, he never was good with words. Or at least when it came to telling the sad truth. 

"If I let you. Are you ready to face whatever lies up ahead?" 

"Just let me go! For fucks sake!" Yanking off his grip and making a run for it.

Not caring about your surroundings, barely bothering enough to avoid to crash with somebody. Ignoring the angered shouts coming at you. Your mind was locked at only one thing. Deep down wishing your assumption was wrong. Maybe they are just in a bad financial situation or sick but not... 

Sharp pain in calves didn't make you stop not until you arrived at the destination. The house looked a bit different. It no longer had flowers on windowsills and it no longer was giving the warm homecoming aura. Lights were on, your last hope. Dashing to the door, violently knocking on them. When they opened it was not your old man greeting you but somebody you had never seen. 

Blankly staring at the man with wide eyes. Still in denial. This can't be! No! Slowly backing off, knocking over a stone. Landing hard on the ground, feeling how tears were forming in corners of your eyes. A little boy popped out from behind the man, asking if the aunt lady is alright. 

Reality was too harsh. Looking forward to share your adventures, troubles and findings with them. But they were not here. What happened? Why did this man open up the door? Perhaps you just jumped into a quick conclusion, perhaps they just moved. But. Something was telling you that's not the case. The pained expression Diluc had just a moment ago before you ran off.

Getting up on foot, murmuring a quiet apology and walking away. You had no strength to run anymore. Everything was spinning. Why has nobody told you about this? Why has nobody been straight with you? Where are you? Where should you go? This is not how your homecoming was supposed to be. 

----

Not knowing where your legs were carrying you. Already outside of the city's gates. Moon was already up, illuminating the road ahead. Lost in your own world, not noticing how shadows were moving. Only because of your sixth sense you built up during those years you managed to avoid the ambush. 

Dodging the swing from mitachurl's axe. Your movement was swift but lacked the will to bother. Yet you found yourself agitated enough. Just the fact something had the audacity to attack you was enough. Feeling presence of something stronger than the oversized churl. It was disgusting and suffocating feeling. Fitting to the Abyss. 

Mitachurl charged with high speed, swinging its axe at you one more time. Only being blocked by an icy wall. The angered beast roared and slammed the ice into pieces. You were already behind it, a sword in hand. Slashing the beast's rear, getting distance. It followed you with a single leap. Avoiding all of its attacks, sometimes putting a wall of ice between you and the beast. If you were interested enough the battle wouldn’t go this way. It would be done in a matter of seconds. 

The anger you felt, the pain which was irritating. The last thing you wanted to do was bother with this thing. But what other options do you have? One last dodge. Before the monster could attack once more it got staggered by several cryo blades attacking its weak spots. Making it yowl in pain. The blades then returned back to your side.

Air was getting colder every passing second. Jumping over the mitachurl, swinging blade, sending icicles which shattered upon contact. Sharp as swords they were digging deep into the beast’s body. Upon landing you begin assaulting the beast with quick attacks. Slash after slash. The cryo blades copied your attacks. When you were done they returned back to your side.

To finish the thing off you summoned an ice spear in the sky. With a single motion of your hand it landed. Piercing the beast through. Freezing everything around in a small radius. Knowing the spear can reach the absolute zero, nobody at low skill level as monsters in the wild could survive this. 

"I hate this..." Murmuring to yourself. The evil presence was still lingering in the air. Where is it hiding? Eyes darting everywhere. Unfortunately clouds were covering the moon and there was really low visibility. An attack could come out of everywhere. Hearing a low whisper in language you could not understand. 

Abyss mage's incantation! Just in time avoiding a shower of icicles. ‘Cryo?! Are you kidding me?’ You cursed while taking cover behind your cryo wall. What you can do? Fighting ice with ice is ridiculous. 

Mage was laughing in amusement, it could toy with you as long as it wanted to. You can't hurt it, not with your vision. Luck was on its side today! Its Queen would reward it for bringing her yet another trophy. Especially if it's somebody who's already on their list. 

It knew who you are. Description of h/c and e/c, cryo vision and one handed sword. That's definitely the same woman who blasted one of their important hideouts in Liyue. 

Enjoying the view of your futile attempts to get lost from its sight. Showering you with more and more icicles. It couldn't tell why but it felt like you seemed down, weaker. A perfect opportunity to take you down. Following your tracks was worth the time!

Another laugh escaping its lips. But then something felt off. Before realizing what caused the intense change in air, the heat slammed it down. The perfect and unbreakable shield, covering it from any kind of attack was gone! Only one thing could cause this. Rising its head up and noticing a tall figure coming closer. Holding a fiery weapon. Just when it thought today was its lucky day this man must have appeared! 

Using its ability to teleport away, however the man wielding the flame sword was quick on his feet. Slamming it again into the ground. There was no escape, not from the notoriously known man, Diluc Ragnvindr. He is the most hated and focused man by the entire Abyss Order. Destroying all of their plans. The abyss mage perished in flames. Screaming this will cost him. 

Diluc stood there, eyes locked at slowly dying flames. He tried to keep his emotions in control. However there were many things pissing him off. One of them being cowardly Kaeya. His mixed up feelings about you. Abyss Order daring to disturb tonight. His inability to find proper words.

Hearing footsteps behind him closing the distance. Hearing the blade cutting through air. Blocking it with his claymore. Eyes to eyes facing you. There was no longer anger in them. In fact it was hard to tell what you were thinking. A few more attacks. All he did was parry each of them. Your attacks grew weaker and weaker until your hand holding sword froze mid air. Looking at your friend with watery eyes. Confused. Hurt. Angry. Letting go of the sword, before it could land on ground it disappeared. Falling on knees and sobbing. Feeling defeated. Crushed. Helpless.

Diluc let go of his own weapon. Considering what to do next. He could just throw everything at his friend. At least you would know the truth but he was not a man of sugar honey covered words. Being aware it could make everything worse. He is not really fit into this role. But at least he could relate to your pain, to your feelings or so he thought. 

Hesitantly kneeling next to you, putting hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Just what was he doing? Is this how you comfort people? If it were him he would just shut himself in bedroom, not caring about anything else. You were no longer a little kid where you used to cry a lot over tiny things. And even then comforting was something completely different to him than it is now. 

What should he say? What should he do? Would it be too bold or stupid to do it like when you were kids? But this time you were not hurt, at least not physically. It's not like falling and hitting your head, crying aloud. Where he could just blow at the ouchie and say the pain will go away soon.

"What... what happened? Tell me the truth... everything... please!" You managed to whisper between sobs. Looking into Diluc's fiery orbs, finding empathy in them. 

Listening to everything what he said. How things slowly unfolded. How your parents decided to go on an expedition into mountains, underestimating the cold climate. Only being found frozen to death. And since nobody knew about your exact whereabouts there was no way to inform you or ask what to do with the house. 

The house was unoccupied for three years, just recently somebody moved in. A young couple with their son. Maybe if you wanted to and were heartless enough you could get the house back. But that wouldn't be right thinking to yourself. 

Diluc also told you about him no longer being with knights and practically despises them now. From that point it was really hard for him to speak with a clear throat. He will never forget the pain of losing somebody close to him. Even before he got to the part how his father passed away, you crawled over, now sobbing into fabrics of his attire. Holding tightly to him. 

For a brief moment he closed his eyes, trying to chase away those bothersome tears which were forming in his eyes. This was a hard topic for him. Except the traitor and his personnel, nobody really knew what happened. He didn't trust anybody since that day, or at least not enough to share this. 

Perhaps he was feeling sentimental and emotional enough. At first he planned to skip details and just tell you his old man died. But somehow he felt like he could trust you. In the end it all seemed like you were the one who cried for both of you. He cried enough back then, yet holding back some tears was impossible. It will always hurt.

None of you knew how long had passed or what time it was. When your cries slowly fell quiet, when there were no more tears to cry. 

"I don't know what to do now... Where to go. I have no home and I don't want to go to Liyue..." Whispering into night air. 

Feeling how Diluc let out a deep breath. Probably wanting to say something. Releasing from his arms, suddenly feeling cold. 

"Damn, I should have taken more mora with me. But who would have known I would need enough to pay rent, huh." You tried to lighten the mood. Not sounding so dreadful. 

Diluc stood up and offered you his hand. "Manor has open doors for you. Unless... You'd like to spend another night on somebody's sofa." He didn't tell you about Kaeya. Feeling like it's his responsibility. All he said was that their opinions are different way too much to remain the same. 

Not sure if you were mad at that man but he would have preferred if you kept distance. Kaeya can't be trusted, not anymore. However, telling you what to do is not his business anymore. 

"Ah, well. I... I would need to scold him first for being such a chicken. Leaving the bad news sharing to you. Anyway we are not done with bad news and stuff, but how about we leave it for later?" Giving him a weak smile. 

"Oh! Does Adelinde still work as a head maid?"

"Yes. She's very loyal. Considering she already worked for my father." Diluc dusted off his coat and then taking it off, pulling it over your shoulders. You were shocked to say anything, feeling blood rushing to your face. 

"Well then. We better be on our way."

Walking silently towards the winery. One thing was sure, things won't be the same as before. But with some work around you could restore your friendship. 

Sharing your own secrets and story behind the vision. The thing about business heritage and in general what took you so long. Diluc valued your honesty and trust. You can be sure he will be there for you if you need. 

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#genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #f!reader #genshin #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact kaeya #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #fiery series #homecoming #writing tags or anything is hell #my hand is bandaged yikes

[thatfanficstuff]

Can’t You See - Erik Lensherr

Pairing: Erik Lensherr x Reader

Warning: shy reader

A/N: This was a request from AO3 for an Erik hurt/comfort fic. 

***

It was late morning and you were sitting at the table with your hands wrapped around your coffee mug. Various others that lived in the mansion were in various stages of rousing themselves or quietly laughing at the ones that couldn’t hold their liquor quite as well as the others. You sensed a gaze on you and lifted your eyes to find Erik watching you over the rim of his own mug.

Your face heated as you quickly shifted your attention back to the table. Though your eyes were no longer on him, you knew he was smirking. You’d been crushing on Erik pretty much from the moment you’d met him and you were very well aware that you weren’t as subtle about it as you could be. You were hopeless, awkward, and shy. So, you watched him and daydreamed while he flirted and smiled and teased but it never went beyond that. At least not when you were awake. In your dreams, well that was your business, wasn’t it?

A part of you hoped he meant all the things he said and did, but you knew better. Why would he? Look at him. He could have anyone he wanted, he certainly didn’t need to be wasting his time on you. You were being too harsh on yourself and you knew it. But you were also a realist. Girls like you didn’t get the guy.

“Are you all right, Y/N?” Erik asked.

You leaned back in your chair and sighed as you turned your gaze to him. “Would you believe I’m just thinking?”

He chuckled. God, you loved that sound. Especially when you’d caused it.

You were infamous for overthinking everything. Charles said that was part of the reason that you had so many problems mastering your powers. He told you feel more, think less. Easy for him to say. Of course, they didn’t know you’d had your powers mastered for ages. If you let that slip, Erik wouldn’t need to spend all the time with you that he had been to try to teach you control.

A groan came from beside you. Raven rolled her eyes when you glanced at her. She was one of those that didn’t handle her liquor as well as the others. “Could you quit eye fucking Erik for like five minutes? I’m nauseous enough, thanks.”

Three things happened at that moment. First, your chest grew tight as you struggled to remember how to breathe. Not only were you humiliated but she was supposed to be your friend. One of the few you’d managed in your life. Tears immediately flooded your eyes and you didn’t dare turn to look at Erik, afraid of his reaction. Second, Charles and Erik yelled Raven’s name simultaneously. Third, you pushed to your feet. “If you’ll excuse me,” you said before heading toward the stairs.

You paused briefly when Erik called your name before shaking your head and hurrying off. Once you were out of sight, you used your power to become invisible. There was a corner you preferred in the living room that allowed you a view of everyone coming and going, but no one but you ever sat there. You grabbed a blanket as you walked past the sofa, extending your power to make it invisible as well.

After wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you settled in the corner. You leaned your head against the wall and let the hot tears run down your cheeks. Charles pushed lightly against your mind, wanting to find you, to make sure you were okay. Let me be, Charles.

She didn’t mean anything by it. She’s just being a bitch because she’s hung over. Erik is still telling her off.

That drew a laugh from you, albeit a small one. Don’t make excuses for her. She’s a big girl. And so am I. I’ll get over it.

There was a stretch of silence and you relaxed thinking Charles had decided to leave you alone for now. You should have known better.

Listen, Erik—

No. With that, you pushed him from your mind and locked it down. He could still read you if he put forth the effort but he was too polite for that.

You tilted your head back so you were looking at the ceiling and did your best to keep your tears silent. You could have fled to your room, but that was the first place they’d look for you and you didn’t particularly want to be found. They’d only attempt to placate you with empty words they didn’t mean and you’d had enough of those to last a lifetime.

“She’s not in her room.”

You shifted your position to watch the two men that walked into the room. Erik was the one that had spoken. Charles merely nodded and darted a glance to your corner.

You’re an ass, Charles.

He laughed but quickly covered it with a cough. “Are you certain she’s not in her room? She could be invisible. In fact, she could be most anywhere.”

Erik glared at him as he hooked a hand around the back of his neck and paced the floor. “And you have no idea where that might be? You can’t pinpoint her at all?”

Charles sat on the arm of the couch. “I told you, she shut me down. Calm down, would you?”

“I am calm.”

“Yes, you look it,” he said with more than a hint of laughter in his voice. You were so glad to know he was amused by all this.

“I swear, I could wring Raven’s neck.”

“I believe you mentioned that.”

“How are you not more upset about this?” Erik asked after a moment.

“Perhaps, because I’m not the one in love with her.”

You sucked in a breath at Charles’s words and your eyes searched Erik, looking for the truth. He scowled at his friend, but he didn’t correct him. Is it possible all that flirting actually meant something to him?

“Damn it, Charles. You know I find Raven’s antics amusing most of the time, but Y/N is so damned shy. It’s taken me forever to get her to be comfortable with me and now, because of one bitchy comment from your sister, it may all be for naught. She’ll probably never look me in the eye again.”

Charles laughed and glanced in your direction again.

“Why the bloody hell are you laughing?”

You made yourself visible and cleared your throat. “Because he thinks he’s funny. And he knows I’m hiding in the corner.”

Erik spun with wide eyes. They softened when his gaze fell on you. The two of you looked at each other in silence until he said, “Give us a moment, Charles.”

Your friend hummed his agreement before making himself scarce, that annoying grin still flirting with his lips. Erik approached slowly as though he feared his mere presence would run you off. To be fair, it had on more than one occasion. “May I?” he gestured to a chair near you.

“You don’t need my permission to sit down, Erik.” You tore your gaze from him and looked around the room you’d been in hundreds of times, still too embarrassed to hold eye contact for long.

He moved the chair so he could sit directly in front of you. “Look at me.”

You glanced at him briefly and quickly moved your eyes away again.

He sighed. “Look at me, Y/N.”

His voice was that familiar low rumble, but this time it held a thread of sadness that you couldn’t ignore. So, you shoved down all your fears and met his gaze.

When you held it, he smiled. “There’s my girl.”

Your face heated, but you didn’t look away.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips. “I’m sorry about Raven.”

“Why do you and Charles always insist on apologizing for her? She’s old enough to deal with the consequences of her actions, don’t you think?” Realizing you sounded a little bitter, you bit your lip to stem any further comment.

Erik’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Okay. I’m sorry you felt the need to leave. Is that better?”

You shrugged. “That wasn’t your fault either, but thank you.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His hands were clasped together and you could tell he was stewing over what to say next.

“Why didn’t you correct him?”

His brow furrowed. “Who?”

“Charles.”

He tilted his head, obviously still confused.

“When he said you loved me.”

A slow smile covered his face. “You misheard. He didn’t say I loved you.”

You frowned and ran the conversation back through your head. “Yes, he did. I remember.”

He shook his head and lifted a brow. “No, he said I was in love with you. There’s a difference.”

“Oh.” Your heart raced and you forced yourself to keep your eyes on him. This conversation was important and you didn’t want to miss any of it.

He leaned forward a bit. “And I didn’t correct him because he spoke the truth.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Why didn’t you say something?”

He chuckled and leaned back. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, sweetheart, but you’re a bit skittish.”

“Yeah, but it had to be obvious I liked you too. I wasn’t exactly subtle about staring at you.”

His smile faded just enough to tug at your heart. “Being attracted to someone and having real feelings for them are two very different things. I was willing to take whatever you gave me.”

You shook your head as you laughed. “You must think I’m completely hopeless.”

“Of course not. Why would you say that?” He sounded so offended you couldn’t help but laugh again.

You waved a hand through the air when he tried to protest again. With a touch and a thought, you made his chair invisible. He glanced down in surprise. He looked back up with a frown but said nothing. He appeared more confused than anything.

This time when you reached out, you wrapped a hand around his wrist. Two seconds later, he was invisible as well. “This is…unsettling,” he said after a moment.

With a thought him and the chair were both visible once more. “As you can see, I don’t exactly need help controlling my powers.”

“Since when?”

You shrugged and stared at your hands in your lap. “Before the two of you ever found me. I couldn’t pass up the chance to spend more time with you.”

“Well, then I guess I can quit feeling guilty for not teaching you anything.”

You jerked your head up to find him grinning. He grabbed one of your hands and tugged you forward. You stumbled from your seat only for him to catch you and pull you into his lap. His hand cupped the side of your face as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You didn’t even hesitate before kissing him back.

You became vaguely aware of footsteps and voices heading your way. You smiled against his mouth as you pushed your power through the both of you. When he chuckled, you silenced him with another kiss.

“She’s not in here, Charles. How do you expect me to apologize if she’s not where you said?” Raven grumbled.

“What are you talking about? Her and Erik…” His voice trailed off as he peered into the room to find it empty. Or at least it appeared so. He grinned and steered Raven from the room. “My mistake. You can find her later.”

Erik hummed against your lips as you made the two of you visible once more. “That’s a handy trick.”

“Isn’t it though?”

He lifted you off his lap so he could stand then swept you up into his arms. “How about you show it to me once more time? Just until we make it to my bedroom.”

You grinned again. “It would be my pleasure.”

#erik lensherr x reader #erik lensherr x you #magneto x reader #magneto x you #x-men imagine #erik lensherr imagine #magneto imagine #requests

[headoverhiddles]

Waking Up Slow - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut/Fluff]

Synopsis: The first morning after Marilyn comes home from a tour, you two take it easy in bed.

Notes: Set now, (Heaven Upside Down era) after the Twins of Evil tour. Lots of Marilyn being a cute goofball! 

You yawn, and stretch as the sunlight seeps under the blackout curtains like light reflective honey.

"Damn. What happened last night?" Marilyn's scratchy morning voice brings you to full attention. You give him a cozy smile.

"Probably the first normal night you've had since you got back from the tour."

He eyes you. "Normal, okay. Nipple tassles? Strap on?"

"As I recall... you fell asleep on me while we were watching Texas Chainsaw and drooled all over my tits."

"Kinky."

"Oh, yeah. I think your last words to me were, "I bet Leatherface shoves the chainsaw up his ass while he masturbates", then you passed out."

"Welp. That's what happens after a forty day long binge," he yawns too, frowning in utter disorientation. You wipe some of his remaining eyeliner off with your thumb, and kiss his forehead.

"I'm pissed about that, you know," you murmur. He hesitates, waiting for the inevitable mother-henning he's been used to with past partners. You just cuddle into the nape of his neck. "I'm pissed I wasn't there this time to binge with you." He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you fondly.

"I fuckin love you, (y/n)."

He drags his fingers across your panties by accident, then realizes he doesn't want to do it by accident but on purpose. He bites his lip, fingers barely grazing where you need him, and as you make noises, he starts to laugh.

"What?" you laugh with him.

"You sound like--" he giggles.

"Oh my god, I sound like the girl from the hotel room next to us that one time in Florida, I know," you laugh, and he buries his face into your shoulder, snorting.

"Ah, ah, ah," he imitates annoying, high pitched female moaning.

"Stoppit," you laugh.

"It was like watching porn."

"Really bad porn."

"I was getting jealous," he grins.

"I know, like, it was a Sunday at 4 am. Invite us or shut the fuck up."

He bursts into laughter again, and you slide over top of him, humming. You straddle him, his hands holding your ass as you slowly move, comfortably grinding against his prominent morning wood as he gently runs his tongue along your lower lip. 

You two lay there, making out for about three minutes straight, his hand every so often moving up to rub your lower back, then back down to play with your ass. His eyes never open-- it's something so distinctly Marilyn. He's self conscious in ways that astound you, but you respect it, and in some small way, you can tell he appreciates the sensation of it all with his eyes shut. It overwhelms you with warmth, and you sigh softly.

"Mmm, I could do this for hours," you whisper. He stares up at you, eyelashes fluttering.

"But then we'd never get to the good part." You giggle. "Baby, daddy's got a taste of the icing, but he wants the whole damn cake," he mutters, giving a sexy little snarl and kissing you again. He starts to grind his cock more heavily against you, and you have to laugh at how impatient he gets.

"I thought you said waking up slowly would be nice after all the chaos," you tease, keeping yourself just inches from his lips. He gives you a petulant look.

"You know I never mean what I say."

You laugh again, and he squeezes your ass. He sits up, half of his hair messed up in a wild bedhead. You stroke it out, and collapse against him, wrapping your arms around his comfy, chubby middle.

"I'm super horny," you whine.

"Yeah, that's really good then, cause so am I."

"You're always horny."

He smiles, and as you really stare at him and take in how beautiful he looks in the morning, you see his cheeks tinge pink.

"That's... a true statement."

He reaches below the covers again, and grazes your panties. You moan softly, and he lifts his chin.

"That little touch feel good?"

"Mmm."

"What do you say?"

You feel a little fire light inside of you, and smirk. "I want more." Marilyn chuckles.

"Oh. Oh, so that's how it's gonna be. What do you say, little slut?" He threads his fingers through you hair and gives a gentle pull. You grin.

"I didn't get enough, I wanna cum."

"Mmm, try again."

"Mm mm."

"Mhmm, come on... say you need me. Say you want this dick inside you... pounding you good, sweetheart..."

You let out a huff, feeling your body betray you.

"I need you."

"That's right," he coos.

You roll down beside him, pouting because you lost the intimidation game. Marilyn rolls over, and lays over top of you, supporting himself on his forearms.

"Don't be like that, baby. I need you tooooo."

"Hmph," you pout, looking away. He strokes the hair from your face.

"Maybe... this would make you happy. Hm?" His low voice sends shivers through you as he brings a hand to pull down the covers, and he closes it around your breast, gently massaging it.

"Mmm," you sigh, still trying to pout. Fuck, that feels good.

"You know you wanna beg for it," he whispers. "Go on. Beg for it."

"I don't..." You gasp as he tweaks your nipple, and uses his other hand to tease your inner thighs. He knows all your weak spots.

"Mmm?" he encourages.

"I don't..." You swallow your protests. "Fuck, I want it."

"You want it?"

"I want it."

He slips two fingers into your wetness and uses his thumb on your clit. He leans down to kiss you as he pumps his fingers deeper, curving them with each thrust.

"Ahh," you moan, one hand clenching the sheets. One of his rings is still on, but it's the pentagram one, so there's no sharp edges and it's stretching you even wider, so fuck it. You realize quickly that you shouldn't just be lying there. You reach forward, and Marilyn groans softly into your mouth as you take his cock in hand.

"Sweetheart, sweetheart," he whispers. The bed creaks as he begins to rock his hips into your fist. You use the lubricant of the precum dripping from his dick. A few seconds later, you start to wriggle your hips down, grinding, rolling your hips so every pump of Marilyn's fingers sends electric jolts through you.

"I'm... coming, oh god," you gasp, and he grimaces.

"Shit, me too, baby, me too..."

You both hold onto each other, moaning each other's names and staying there for a few minutes; you have all the time in the world, and you're not going anywhere.

"So," you sigh contentedly, wiggling your hips back into his crotch to fit comfortably, "Let's watch the end of Texas Chainsaw, since you fell asleep."

"The ending, where my boy Leatherface jams an entire chainsaw up his asshole?"

"He does NOT--"

"Pretty sure he does."

"Regardless," you put a hand on his chest, "I've got an idea. Before we do, I'm gonna go get us some coffee at the Starbucks down the hill. Let's do spooky things today, it's my day off. Yours too."

"What? Where are you going?" he moans, giving a petulant whine.

"Coffee!"

"I taste better."

"I beg to differ," you wrinkle your nose playfully, pulling your panties back on, "You need a shower."

"I don't want coffee, I want absinthe."

"Well, I'm gonna get you a coffee to put absinthe in, then. What kind?"

He sheepishly looks out the window, and you grin.

"Pumpkin spice?"

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone it's mine."

"Of course not," you play along, "Both are totally for me, what are you talking about?"

He grins too, ducking his head, and slides out of bed toward the bathroom.

"Don't be long. My dick already misses you."

"Your dick has abandonment issues," you retort, slipping on a thin camisole.

"I'd prefer to call it separation anxiety."

You roll your eyes. "I'll be back in 15."

"5."

"Fuck you, I'm not the six million dollar man."

You head down the hill, and grab the coffee as Marilyn showers the forty day long tour binge off back at the house. When you get in, you find him toweling off in the bathroom, and slide him his coffee. He glances at the name written in black sharpie on the side.

"Charles Monroe. Very amusing." Despite the sarcasm in his voice, he bursts into a little fit of childish giggles, as you sit up on the counter.

"I got yours with whip, mine without," you say, licking the spice off his lid, "I've got to keep my figure for riding you."

"Oh yeah?" he says, swiping a big glob of whipped cream off his. "Yeah?!" Your eyes widen, and you try to escape, but he catches you first and wipes it on your face. "You could have just gotten whip on yours, and dumped it on mine, so I had double," he murmurs, eating the cream off your lips. He kisses down, licking up all the extra he missed down your neck, between your breasts. You moan, looping your arms around his neck.

"That's really nice..."

"Let's start our spooky day off, mmm," he mumbles between kisses, "With more spooky sex. With spooky whips... and spooky chains... and chainsaws... mm, sounds like a song I should put on the new record..." He starts singing really terribly. "I wanna fuck yoooour vajayjay... with spooky chains and chainsaws... ayyyy...."

You give him two thumbs down, and he picks you up off the counter, swinging you back into the bedroom and falling onto the bed with you again, kissing down your neck.

You laugh, tilting your head back as his lips go even lower.

"Write a better song, and maybe I'll fuck you again."

"I don't need... anybody else... when I think about you I fuck myself, ohhh--"

"It's touch myself."

"Naaah, I do more than that."

You grin, squealing as his lips make it to your panties.

#marilyn manson #marilyn manson x reader #reader x marilyn manson #Brian Warner #Brian Warner x reader #reader x Brian Warner #smut #marilyn manson fanfiction #mansonites #heaven upside down era #heaven upside down #cute #fluff #fluffy #pillow talk #marilyn is a goofball #marilyn manson imagine

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 72

There was no protest, no accusations, not yet anyway, she just nodded and meekly followed him like a little puppy to his waiting car, he held open the door and she just got in without a word, “can we go dancing now?” a woman's voice eagerly asked while he got in. Harper leaned back a bit in shock, she hadn't even realized there was someone else waiting in the car, “sorry, no can do, we're flying back to LA tonight” Jared buckled up and started the engine. “Oh, I don't want to ruin any plans..” he could hear Harper whisper from the backseat, “you're not!” he said decisively as he let the car merge with the late night traffic. The atmosphere in the car was tense, the girl in the passenger's seat certainly didn't seem too happy with his decision so she leaned back a bit when there was a whispered argument going on in the front, she didn't need to hear, none of my business anyway. The worry inside of Jared was real, Harper was still in shock, she didn't say a word, she practically only answered with 'yes' or 'no' when she was spoken to, but 95% of the time she seemed to disappear in her own world, when he said he would stop at her house to get some clothes, she did exactly that, she walked inside only to get back out with a small bag of clothes 10 minutes later and the same empty look in her eyes.

Heading towards the airport, Jared got a call and he looked in the rearview mirror when Charles' voice bounced around the car “Hey Jay, did you find Harper?” he watched how all colour drained from her face and she shivered. “Yes..yes I found her..she's right here with me..us”. Charles seemed to hesitate for a second “Oh good..I'm glad..I talked to her mother, there's no change..are you coming back here?” Jared kept staring in the rearview mirror but she just looked down at her hands, “No, we're not..I'm taking her to LA to catch her breath” he sighed, expecting a lecture from him but none came “Ok..call me when you land? We need to talk” Charles sighed. ”You can sit here if you want, get settled in, not long before we take off” he pointed at a seat on the other side of the aisle, his heart melted when she followed his finger and sat down, holding her bag in her lap, she was under such a heavy shock still. If only she would say something..and could his friend with benefits shut up in the meantime, all that one did was chatter, nag, chatter and nag again “and all this on one of my weekends where I finally have some time off” she huffed as she sat down next to him and angrily clicked her seatbelt shut “doesn't she have any other friends?”. Jared just shook his head “will you just shut up? You can still get off the plane and stay in New York if you want” he clicked his seatbelt as the plane slowly started moving, “Miss? Do you want me to put your bag above your head?” the flight attendant smiled at her, “sorry?” Harper looked up at her with a million question marks in her eyes. “Your bag? I need to put it in the locker or you can put it under your seat, whatever is easier for you” the flight attendant patiently asked again, “oh” was all she managed to say as she finally handed over the bag, “let's click you in and I'll come over with some refreshments as soon as we're airborne”.

No matter how hard she fought it, that dark mist in her head just wouldn't lift, she was cold through and through but somehow she couldn't seem to get warm, every single one of her limbs refused to function properly, she was so locked up in herself that she couldn't concentrate longer than a second. Do I still have a father? Am I a cold blooded murderer? Like mama said? A suppressed sob nearly strangled her, but the tears just wouldn't come, she just kept staring blankly ahead, deaf and blind to her surroundings. “Harper?” a hand touching her shoulder startled her, “are you coming?” what? Where? She blinked a couple of times and looked around, “yes” she whispered as she got out of her seat and followed him off the plane. “God, I'm so gonna be glad to be rid of her, what hotel are you taking her to?” his date nuzzled against his ear as they got in the waiting van, “I'm not taking her to a hotel, she's staying at my house” he pulled out of her reach. “What?..but..” her mood suddenly dived below zero, “I'm not gonna discuss it, Steph, she's my..” he hesitated, did he tell her that they were ex-lovers and that he'd do whatever it took to stay in her life? “..she's like family to me and she needs help, I'm not gonna look away and leave her alone in all this”. She rolled her eyes “Djeez..you guys fucking or something?”, Jared shivered, she wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed was she? “No..we're definitely not fucking” he wanted to add 'unfortunately' but didn't. Harper looked out of the carwindow at the citylights that were whizzing by, she had never been to LA but everything seemed so much more laidback than NY, people standing in line in front of a club, people walking in and out of restaurants, a heavy sigh escaped her lips, a couple of hours ago the night had been young and full of promise fcr her too..until she, almost or already she wasn't sure, killed her father, she banged her head against the window and closed her eyes, IhatemyselfIhatemyselfIhatemyself the mantra on endless repeat in her head.

Jared waited for her to get out of the van while he took her bag from her and she followed him up the driveway towards the huge mansion, stepping inside the enormous hallway she realized how little she actually knew of him, he had never talked about his house or about LA for that matter. Nothing in this house reminded her of the nomade she had been with, “you won't need this in LA, you're probably boiling” she heard him say as he reached to help her out of her big wintercoat, she hadn't even noticed the huge difference in temperature. His fingers lingered on her skin as he helped her out of her coat, he had missed her and this closeness so very much “why don't you go sit down, do you want something to drink?” the sound of his own voice bugged him, this entire distant situation between them bugged him. He wanted to talk to her, hold her, comfort her, but she was still so stuck in her own bubble of shock and fear, she functioned but that was about it basically. “Jared, babe, sexy tiger of mine, I'm so tired, all I want is to be horizontal with you” and then there was Steph too who came waltzing into the living room, fuck this! Harper's head shot up like she realized for the first time that there was someone else involved but their eyes only met briefly before she took a deep breath “I'm tired” and got up out of her seat, it was clear these two wanted to be alone. “Oh..of course, I'll take you to your room” Jared said a little bit more relieved than he wanted to admit, he could be alone with her for a while, up an endless flight of stairs, left and then right from one corridor to the other, how big was this house? “this is your room” how weird was this taking her to a guest bedroom when all he wanted was to show her his bedroom?. She followed him inside the huge room with ceiling to floor windows all around, the city underneath them lit up like a christmas tree, “thank you” she whispered looking at the kingsize  bed. “My pleasure”, god, she looked so forlorn and so fragile “are you ok?” it was a dumb question, of course she wasn't ok, but he would have asked anything just to hear the sound of her voice again.

Without even looking at him, she slowly walked up to the window overlooking the city and shook her head “No..I'm scared..my father..I didn't mean to..my family..I don't have a family anymore..I killed him..I'm alone..I don't know what I'm gonna do..am I a murderer?” she clasped her hand over her mouth, the pain in her chest was so heavy like she was struggling to breathe. “Oh babe, don't say that..” he closed the distance between them but when he wanted to put his arms around her, she backed away like a scared cat “your father had a heart attack, you didn't kill him..this is not your fault, Harper!” his arms dropped to his side “you don't just get a heart attack like that”. Her eyes locked with his “why did I make that painting?” she whispered, in the darkness her whispering had something erotic, but before he could say something, Steph decided to end their little gathering “it's late, take me to bed” she walked over to him and pushed herself seductively against him. “Thank you for your hospitality” Harper softly said, breaking their eyecontact “this room is lovely”, goddammit Harper why are you always so politically correct? Even in your darkest hour you still manage to throw up that wall around you and shut everyone out? “try and get some sleep, we'll talk in the morning, if you need anything, my room is” he hesitated hearing himself say 'my room' when all he wanted to say was 'our room' and Steph certainly wasn't included in that 'our', “my room is the first on your right”. All she could do was nod and he slowly turned to leave the room with Steph in his wake, then the door closed and she was alone again, clutching her heart she let herself drop to the floor and pulled up her legs crossing her arms over them, curling herself up like it was all she could do to protect her against the long, black night.

Jared lay wide awake for most of the night, the film of this dramatic evening rolling on endless repeat in his head, Steph stirring in her sleep pulled him out of his waking dream and the gutwrenching dissapointment instantly followed, this bed had the wrong woman in it. What kind of a man, let alone friend, am I when all I can think of is her..us being a couple again in this time of her need?. Every single one of her limbs ached from being in the same position too long as she got up, her phone had been silent all night, the only notification she got was that her battery was running low, she had hoped that one of her brothers would at least have the decency to give her a little update but no..the clan had closed the ranks once again. She put down her phone and looked around the room bathing in the light of an amazing LA  early sunrise, Jared's house..he took her to LA..she tried to sort through the rubble of last night in her head,why was he even there? Maybe a shower would help to clear the cobwebs. “Yes Charles we did land..I'm sorry alright? We were all exhausted..No, of course she's not ok..poor thing's gone into some kind of shock, she's completely disconnected from the world around her after the hospital, what else can you expect when your own mother accuses you of being a murderer? God, what a mess..what? Oh god no..yeah, ok I'll tell her”. This house was so huge and a complete maze and she constantly felt like she was trespassing, she was just looking for a charger for her phone, so she ventured downstairs where the smell of fresh coffee beckoned her to the kitchen, gently she pushed the door and found him sitting at a counter in the middle of an enormous kitchen, scrolling through his phone. “Goodmorning Jay..I don't want to interrupt..I forgot the charger of my phone and I was wondering..” her voice that danced up behind him made his head shoot up, he had so missed the sound of that beautiful, but now so formal, voice. He held up the end of a charger and his cup of coffee to her “I got both, come here” with a big warm smile on his face inviting her over “how are you feeling? Did you sleep at all?” on instinct he pushed a kiss on her forehead. “No..” she shook her head as she sat down next to him “but I'm so very grateful for everything you've done for me last night..I want you to know that! Last night I lost my entire family..you know what I mean..but you stood up for me and took care of me even if you clearly have other priorities in your life right now, I'll never forget that!so thank you, Jay..” her voice trembled and she quickly wiped a tear from her eye.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #30 Seconds To Mars #30stm fanfiction #30 secondstomars fanfic #a man on fire #chapter 72 #Harper Coco #Harper and Jared #caroline18mars

[princessanneftw]

(Don't hate me, this is TBC.)

Ice

The snow was falling silently, covering the grounds and giving Anne a sense of peace and quiet that she rarely felt these days; reclined on an armchair, a cup of tea on the table and a book in hand, she relaxed, thinking that maybe a nap wouldn’t be a bad idea...only to be quickly roused by another violent cough from the bed where Zara was lying, her little body shaking from exertion and high temperature.

She ought to have known that something like this would happen. She was a admittedly a pessimist so she should have been better prepared. She had given her entire staff the weekend off, since it would be just her and Mark and it was Valentine’s day on Saturday; her parents had wanted a weekend with all of their grandchildren, and she could just imagine how happy the Press Office reptiles had been at the prospect, ready to use the occasion to underline the stability of her and Charles’ marriages; she and Diana had even briefly joked about it on the phone, when the Princess of Wales had called to ask if Anne wanted to send Peter and Zara to London with her, William and Harry on Friday. The idea was a good one and she had accepted, but of course, the basic rule of a perfect plan is that nothing ever goes according to that plan.

First of all, a storm had come, bringing cold and snow in the majority of the country, so, despite some heavy protests on their side, she had sent the staff away on Thursday afternoon, reassuring everyone that she would be fine. After all, Mark was coming back on Friday and the guardian was still on the estate. Then, after dinner, Zara had started coughing and shivering, and a rapid check with the town doctor had confirmed that she was suffering from a bad cold. During the night the blizzard had intensified, and on Friday morning Mark had been left stranded in Ireland due to the weather.

And that’s how, on February 13, 1987, she’d ended up alone, during a snowstorm, with a sick little girl and the partial belief that things certainly couldn’t get any worse. At lunchtime the guardian came to look in on them and to inform her that he would be out on the estate probably until nightfall. Soon afterwards the fever was back again, and just as Anne was getting the Ibuprofen, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello Anne.”

“Oh hello Mummy.”

“How are you? How is Zara?”

“I’m fine, but I’m afraid Zara is not improving. The fever is back and the coughing hasn’t subsided.”

“Oh the poor dear.. What did the doctor say?”

“Everything’s normal, I just need to keep her warm and give her Ibuprofen when her temperature rises. In fact I was just going to do that, would you mind waiting for a...”- she stopped abruptly, the open box in her hand and a single pill in it. Apparently she was wrong. Things could get worse.

“Anne? Are you there? What happened?”

“I’m running out of Ibuprofen. I’ve just got one pill left, bloody hell! I gave Mark the new box, and the guardian is out on the estate, I can’t reach him...I need to drive into town. I’ll take Zara with me.”

“Are you mad? You can’t take her out in this weather! There must be another way...” - Anne could hear her mother talking with someone, perhaps her father – “When do you need to give her Ibuprofen next?”

“I need to wait at least six hours, so if her temperature rises again she’ll take it at around eight o’clock, why?”

“I’ll deal with this, you just focus on Zara, ok?”

“Mummy, I don’t want you to call the police or the hospital, they have much more serious issues to deal with.”

“Oh ye of little faith. I promise, if I can’t find a solution I’ll call you back and you can drive into town, but if you don’t hear from me you stay at home, ok? Good. Call me if anything changes.”

And with that, she hang up. Still a bit disoriented, Anne gave Zara the pill and returned to her spot on the armchair, trusting her mother to do the right thing and not send Ibuprofen via helicopter.

The afternoon passed between Donald Duck tapes, drawing, reading, playing, napping, but by the time Zara’s dinner was over there was still no sign of...whatever Elizabeth had planned, and Anne was becoming a bit antsy, so much that she actually jumped when the doorbell rang.

She launched herself down the stairs and to the door, where she found herself face to face with Tim Laurence, her mother’s equerry, Anne’s own confident and friend for the last 6 months and the object of very inappropriate thoughts and feelings.

“Tim, what the fuck...Oh bother, come and say hello to Zara, she’ll be happy to see you. The fever is not back yet, but I’ll give her a pill anyway. She is very sleepy and I don’t want to wake her up later; and then, you have some explaining to do.”

Zara was indeed happy to see him, but after taking the medicine she fell asleep in a matter of minutes, so Anne sent him to the living room while she called her mother.

“Dear, has Commander Laurence arrived? I had him drive your car, the one you left here last time, so if he isn’t already there it shouldn’t be long anyway.”

“He is here, but Mummy how could you ask this of him? He is your equerry, not a special messenger!”

“He was in my office when we were talking before, and he volunteered since he was going out of London anyway. He wants to depart immediately, but I’d much rather he stayed there for the night, the weather is only going to get worse. Can you convince him?”

“He’s not going anywhere, I can guarantee it. I’ll phone again in the morning, now let me say hello to Peter. And thank you Mummy, for everything.”

Her son was very brief, too busy playing with his grandfather, so after a very short conversation Anne entered the living room, ready to give that impossible, lovely man a piece of her mind for doing something as crazy as driving in a blizzard to get her sick child Ibuprofen.

That night, as the clock struck midnight and heralded Valentine’s Day, Anne and Tim kissed for the first time.

* * *

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER

This was a very sweet little fic. I liked that everything about her plan went wrong, and of course Timmy to the rescue, saving the day made me squee. Very in character I imagine. Is the next part gonna be called Fire? Will things get 🔥? Will Mark actually make it back and ruin things?

#fANNEfiction #my little shipper heart cant take all of these fresh stories #i am very appreciative to all of you that are posting/submitting fics #i will go down with this ship #i hope she never finds this blog #also #both that were submitted had sick people in them #and i am sick atm #👀 #coAnnecidAnnece #submission

[lyricfulloflight]

Ok, how about an angsty fic where Raven seduces Charles' boyfriends to "check they're faithful"

Okay, so my initial reaction to this prompt was: “horror, pure horror”, “Raven did what now?” “That bitch”.  But then, I wrote about it anyway.

I am not yet at 400 followers, so this post will be a bit of a tease.  I am at 398 followers though, so very very close.  When I get to 400 maybe I’ll fill a happier prompt?

I am posting the start of this because what started as a drabble is now turning into a fic.  So here’s the 2,500 + word ‘intro’ to the fic (dear lord what is wrong with me), that tackles this specific prompt.  Note to readers:  Erik is no where to be found in this part.  I decided, for reasons, that Erik would, ever be fooled by Raven trying to get him to cheat on Charles.  Never. (I think I decided this for my own sanity).

This fic will then continue, likely on AO3 at some point, as a fake-dating fic. I will include a few more notes at the end of this intro section to explain what will I have planned next.  

The Fall

Charles tried to be angry at Raven.  He really did.  He knew (as a telepath, how could he not know?), that most people would have reacted with anger, or outright rage.  Somehow, even all these years later with his mother and Kurt far away, hardly any influence left in his life, he could not help hearing their voices in his head; “You’ve brought this on yourself Charles.”, “This is all your own doing, young man.”.  The anger, the shame, the pain of it all turned inward.

Charles slipped away from the door where he’d overheard Raven talking to Hank, tiptoeing without so much as a sound - thank goodness for thick carpets.  The scene he’d just witnessed played over and over like a record stuck in an endless loop.

“Well I have to make sure don’t I?  That they really care for him.”  Raven had explained.  “Charles is such a horrible judge of character.  He really is the worst telepath of all time.”

“Still,” Hank had protested. “Luring his boyfriends away from him, tempting them to cheat, on purpose…that seems a bit much.”

“Look, two of those guys wanted to sleep with me when I was a woman and told me they weren’t even really gay.  If Charles can’t pick boyfriends who know their own sexuality, then he obviously needs my help.  You wouldn’t want him to actually keep dating these men would you? They all cheated on him!”

“With you. Because you intentionally tried to lure them away.  What if you hadn’t intervened?  You never know everything might have been fine!”

“It wouldn’t have been fine, Hank.  They’re CHEATERS.  If they didn’t cheat with me, or whoever I was pretending to be, they would have cheated on Charles with someone else.  They are scum.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. I’m protecting my brother, like any good sister would.”

“I feel the ethics of this situation are rather…murky.”

“Whatever, Hank.  I am a great sister.  A loving, protective, thoughtful sister who wants only the best for Charles.  And all his boyfriends have been awful, so I have no regrets.”

Had all his boyfriends been so awful, Charles wondered?  Perhaps they had.  Luke had been quite self-obsessed.  Really any man who needed to go to the gym every single day, and complained when they weren’t open on Christmas morning, was likely not the best match for Charles. Oliver had clearly been more interested in Charles’ money than anything else – he’d always looked happier after Charles gave him a present than he did after sex, which had been more than a little depressing.  Peter, well Peter had a small…appendage…and Charles was certain he would have broken things off with him even without Raven’s ‘helpful’ interference.

It was difficult to remember all the times he’d caught his boyfriend’s cheating, or had to listen to their admissions of having cheated, and realize that every single time his partner, the man he’d loved (or was at least hoping to love) had been kissing his sister.  Best not to think about it too deeply.

Hank, of course, had a point – perhaps the cheating never would have occurred without Raven forcing the issue.  Which, of course, was where the anger should have come in.  But Raven had a point too, they may well have cheated anyway, they could have already cheated before Raven’s seductions for all Charles knew – and that, that was where the self doubt came crashing through.

It seemed, and really how had Charles not realized this before, that he simply was not very lovable.  He was not worth someone’s commitment, their devotion, or their undivided affection.  Charles, by himself, was not enough.  His mother had certainly known, and his step-father.  Apparently even Raven knew Charles was lacking, why else would she have done what she’d done?  Why else would she have had such success?

Clearly, it was time to give up dating, to give up the fanciful idea of finding ‘the one’.  It was simply a waste of his time.

Charles spent the next six months devoting himself to casual encounters, one-night stands, fuck buddies, and random hook-ups.

He also spent very little time with Raven, though if anyone asked he would have vehemently denied it was intentional.

Casual sex was…empty and meaningless.  It burned at Charles’ heart and ate at his soul.  To go through with it, to make himself into the person he needed to be to flirt outrageously and tempt men who would clearly otherwise overlook him, he drank.  He drank a lot.  He drank copious amounts of fruity drinks with little umbrellas and sexually charged names.  He was reckless and wild.

It worked.  Though, honestly he didn’t much like himself in the morning.

He still got up and did it all again the next weekend.  And the weekend after that.  And the weekend after that.

Eventually it had to start feeling right, either that or it had to end.

It ended.  To be precise it crashed into a heap of of drunken excess and drug induced haziness.  

It ended in with Charles being shaken awake by a troubled looking young woman in the very dirty bathroom of a club who’s name he couldn’t remember.

“Are you okay?”

Charles peered up at the young woman through heavy lids that couldn’t seem to open completely.  His head was pounding, his telepathy muted to nothing more than a whisper, and he wasn’t completely sure he could stand if he tried.

“I’m fine.”  He winced at the croak of his own voice.

“Yeah, I’m not buying that.”  The young woman replied pointedly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Charles felt at his pockets and found them empty.

“Would I be able to use your phone?”  Charles asked with a wince. “I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“Took your stuff, huh?  Assholes.  Come out to the front, you can use the phone at the bar.  I don’t really have much money I can lend you -”

“No, no, I don’t need any money.”  Charles rushed to interrupt. “I…I’m sure someone can come and pick me up.”

“You know…”  The women began hesitantly, “you should probably use my phone.  You…you’re not going to want to go out there.”

“I look that bad, do I?”  Charles said with an embarrassed smiled.

“Yeah. You look…well, make your call and see for yourself.”  

She held out her phone and Charles took it.  He dialed a number he hadn’t called in months, crossed his fingers and hoped for an answer.

Raven picked up after six long rings.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Raven.  It’s Charles.”

“What the fuck are you calling me for at five in the morning?”

“I need you to come get me.”

“Come get you…are you in some kind of trouble Charles?  Are you hurt?”

Charles could hear the sounds of movement through the phone and the edge of panic in Raven’s voice.

“I’m fine.”  He answered. “I just…someone stole my phone and my wallet at a club and I need a ride home.”

“Where are you?”

Ah, good question.  Charles took the phone away from his face momentarily and smiled his best charming smile at the young woman currently staring down at him.

“Where am I, exactly?”  He whispered.

He wasn’t exactly surprised by the sad look the woman gave him as she recited the name of the club and its address.  Charles was more than a little depressed to realize he was quite so far away from his home in the Upper East Side of Manhattan.  It would likely take Raven the better part of an hour to come get him.  He sighed.  There was nothing for it, he had no one else to turn to who cared enough to come get him and had a car.

Charles got back on the phone and gave Raven the address.  He had to pull the phone away from his ear  when she yelled at him for being an idiot and making ridiculous choices and why would go to some club that was almost outside the city, etc, etc.

“You’ll come get me though.”  He ventured when her tirade ended.

“Yes, you fool.  I’m almost down to the parking garage.  I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Charles hung up and handed the phone back to the young lady, and thanked her profusely for her kindness.  She nodded, gave him one more sad, troubled look and then left.

Alone, Charles managed to heave himself up off the floor, though not without a great deal of effort.  His limbs were stiff and sore as if he’d spent a good portion on the evening stuck in a very uncomfortable position, which frankly seemed quite likely.

One look in the mirror was all it took to understand why the young female employee had thought he might not want to come out of the bathroom. Charles was absolutely covered in…things.  He was almost certain a great deal of the sticky, multicoloured stains on his shirt were from various types of alcohol.  However, he also had to admit that the crunchy, dried substance in his hair was most certainly not alcohol. He immediately turned on the tap and stuck his head under the bathroom sink.  There was no way in hell he was going to have Raven pick his up from a club with come stuck in his hair. He had some dignity after all.

After washing his hair as best he could, Charles decided it was best to try the same with his shirt.  He winced as he struggled out of his white v-neck shirt, his muscles protesting each movement.  He succeeded in the end, and ran the shirt under hot water for several minutes before wringing it out and sticking it under the hair dryer in an attempt to dry it out.

As he held his shirt under the air flow, he took a quick glance at his torso and discovered he was covered in bruises, many of which bore the distinct look of finger prints.  His neck was worse than anything, absolutely covered in great purple bruise and teeth marks, one of which appeared to have broken the skin.

Charles found himself shaking at the sight and the realization he had no idea how he’d gotten any of the marks.  A wave of nausea hit him like a freight train and he stumbled into the nearest stall and vomited violently.

What in the world had he done?  How could have have let himself fall this far, spiral to such an incredible low point?  Waking up in a bathroom with no memory of the night before was appalling and terrifying.  As a telepath, he was generally cursed with excellent recall of people and events.  He couldn’t remember anything about the night before beyond accepting a particularly large slushy drink from a man at the bar.  Which meant, dammit, that he had more than likely been drugged. Lovely.

When Raven arrived he was going to get her to drive him directly home, where he could have a very, very hot shower, and he was immediately heading to the nearest clinic for testing.  And he was never, ever doing this again.  Ever.

Forty five minutes later, almost on the dot, the kind young lady from earlier poked her head into the bathroom and let him know his ride was here.  By that time Charles shirt was still stained, but mostly dry and smelled slightly less of alcohol and…other things.  Charles took one last look at himself, the damp hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the mass of bruises on his neck and prepared himself for an epic dressing down from his sister.

Her absolute stunned silence when she saw him was somehow a million times worse.  Raven always had something to say and to think his behaviour had literally shocked her into silence was a clear message unto itself.  Charles had crossed a line that even Raven had no response to.

The silence lasted almost until they reached Charles’ apartment building.

“Charles…” Raven’s voice was barely audible above the low level volume of the radio. “what are you…what do you need me to do?”

Charles sighed. “I’m going to go upstairs and clean myself up.  Then I need to head to the clinic.  You’re…”  He closed his eyes, hesitant to make the offer, but determined to push onward, “you’re welcome to come with me if you like.  But I’m fully capable of taking care of myself if you’re busy.”

“Fully capable…” Raven whipped her head around to stare at Charles as she parked down the street from his building. “Charles have you seen yourself?  You look atrocious.  You look…I’ve never seen you look like this in my life.  I will take you to the clinic.  I will take you to a therapist.  I will take you anywhere and do anything that will guarantee I never, ever see you like this again.  This is scary Charles.  You’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry.”  Charles said, reaching out to touch Raven’s hand. “I made a mistake.  It’s not going to happen again.”

“I’ve barely seen you in six month Charles.  Has it been six months worth mistakes?  Six months of morning like this that I didn’t know about?”

Charles felt crushed under the helpless look in her eyes.  The truth was the last six months had been full of out of character behaviour and more than a few risky choices.  Nothing compared to the past 24 hours though.

“I…I’ve had a rough go of it lately.  I was trying to be someone…else.” Charles said, meeting Raven’s gaze directly.  “I was trying to be someone who’s sister didn’t feel she had to vet their boyfriends because they were a shit judge of character.  I was trying to be someone who’s boyfriends didn’t all cheat on him with said shapeshifting sister.”  He finally admitted.

“Oh. Oh, Charles.”  Raven’s eyes teared up, though in typical fashion, she somehow held them at bay. “I didn’t know…you weren’t supposed to know.”

“I know.  But I found out and I thought…I thought I should try something different.”

Raven huffed. “So you decided not to judge anyone’s character at all and just sleep with any man with a pulse.  That’s a brilliant choice Charles.”

Charles winced as Raven struck him firmly on the arm.

“Promise me you will never do ‘casually reckless’ again Charles.  Promise me you’ll just go back to being you.  The real, genuine you that I, and anyone worth your time, will love.”

“I promise to never do casually reckless again.”  Charles vowed.

They exited the car and walked slowly to Charles’ building where they were greeted by a surprised, but doing he best to hide it, doorman who had known Charles since he was sixteen and starting college. Charles felt himself flush from the roots of his to the collar of his shirt.

When Charles finally got upstairs and opened his front door he felt a wave of relief: home, safety, comfort.

Raven however, wasn’t quite done.

“You didn’t promise the last bit Charles.  You didn’t promise to be your genuine lovable self again.”  She said with a teasing smile.

“No I didn’t.”  Charles agreed. “I think…I think after everything, the last six months, my inability to have a loving committed relationship with a man who won’t cheat on me, I think I can admit the truth:  I am simply not fit for romantic consumption. That man, that ‘lovable’ man you think me to be?  He doesn’t exist.”

Charles turned on his heel and headed for his room.  He took a long hot shower.  He went to the clinic and got tested and waited none too patiently before he finally received a clean bill of health.  He moved on with his life.  If that life was now a perpetually lonely single life, he told himself he simply didn’t care.  He told himself he didn’t care so much, he almost believed it.

The End…so far

So this fic will turn into a fake dating situation where Raven and Hank are getting married.  Charles, who has lived in last five years as a celibate monk is in need of a date.  He knows how much it will mean to Raven if he starts dating again, especially for her wedding.  He runs into Erik one day (literally because that’s how this trope works folks) and spontaneous asks him to pretend to be his boyfriend at his sisters wedding.  Erik agrees.  Fake dating commences.

Thank you @akasanata for putting this story in my brain with your prompt.  I apologize for this first part being so…dark, but it really couldn’t be anything but I don’t think.

#lyric writes #400 followers drabble #its not a drabble #nor do i have 400 followers #i'm a liar #cherik fic? #sort of pre-cherik fic #promise of cherik to come

[letstalkaboutsebbaby]

Gradually - Chapter 7

(moodboard by the sweetheart @crossbowitch

You enter the Blackwood’s house at night trying to steal Constance’s cookbook but you end up getting something very different.

Pairing: Charles Blackwood x Female Reader Author: Deb @letstalkaboutsebbaby / @letswriteaboutsebbaby Rating: Mature Warnings: smut, dark.

You wake up alone in Charle’s bed and turns around to snuggle into his pillow, where you find a note.

Stay in bed, princess, I’m making you breakfast.

You smile, your heart swelling with happiness and close your eyes again. You keep thinking about the night before and how good it was to have Charles so open and devoted. The things he did with you brought a satisfaction like you’ve never felt before. To have him inside of you is a luxury you want forever, even if your body’s tender and a bit bruised.

It takes Charles little time to enter the bedroom and you open a big smile; he’s fully dressed, looking smart, but you really want him to be naked in bed again “Good morning”

He places a tray at the nightstand and crawls into bed, his body weighing on yours; he kisses you slowly, a hand on your neck holding you still. The way his tongue slides inside your mouth in a soft but sure way it’s so delightful you feel like you can cum just by his kiss “You look so delicious. Did you sleep ok?”

“Amazingly. I want more, Charles” you sigh.

“What kind of man will I be if I just take you again, dear? You need to eat...you already had too much last night” he says he won’t but his legs are already opening yours and his hard on scrubbing over your bare pussy.

“We can eat later” you start to open his trousers and he doesn’t protest. “Besides, your my good boy now. I’m sure you’ll do your best to make me feel good” you say changing your positions and covering his body with your naked one. While he’s busy worshiping your breasts, you take his dick and slides on it, the feeling making you gasp.

“Oh dear, you look like a goddess...ride me, babe, I need you so much” his eyes burning into yours, you lean closer and kiss him “let’s go away from here, Charles...we don’t need any of this”. The peaceful semblance goes away from his eyes and is replaced with seriousness and a bit of worry.

“Not yet, love. Just let me…” He’s interrupt by loud knocks at the door.

“Charlie, are you ready to go?!” says Constance. You try to get apart from him but he holds you still, one arm at your hip and a hand in your hair, gripping hard. He starts to drive his hips up, going deeper inside of you.

“Almost. Wait for me in the car, Connie” he yells, turning your body beneath his again and fucking you hard. You want to be mad but your body is close to orgasm and you can’t think straight. “Let it go, doll. I want to feel you squeezing me tight” and as if responding to a witchcraft, you come, his high right after yours.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything when I get back, ok? You’ll have to trust me on this, babe”

“Why?” the lack of knowledge about what he’s doing after everything that happened between the two of you the night before makes you disheartened and angry.

“I don’t know what are you thinking but yesterday I was...not myself. I’m the one in control here, doll, and I don’t appreciate all this questions.”

“Oh my god, you’re so infuriating!” You stand, wrapping the sheets on your body and go to the bathroom.

He follows you and stops at the door. “Eat, take a shower and wait for me here. And I expect a better attitude when I do.”

“You better not expect me at all when you do. You’re leaving with her...” he gets you by the arms and pulls you close.

“You can’t go” he whispers darkly

“Give one reason. A real reason” You’re determined on not letting him persuade you to keep this going. What happened was serious and dangerous and as much as you want him, you’re not about to be harm because of it. You need to stand up for yourself. His next words are hard to ignore tough.

“You’ve become part of my future and I’m trying to get everything on track…”

“Charles…” you didn’t expect that at all and all you want to do is try to put some sense into his mind but he kisses you quickly, straights his clothes and leaves. You stay leaning against the vanity, lost and feeling dumb till you hear the click of a key. Getting closer to the door with the sheets wrapped in your body, you turn the knob and it’s closed. “Charles!”

--------------

It’s been hours since he left and you already tried everything to pass the time. There’s so many things running through your head you get startled when there’s a light knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“I was thinking...if Charles won’t leave even with you in danger, what would make him go?”

“Merricat...I...I want the same thing as you. I want me and Charles gone from this house. Can you open the door?” you try to resonate with the girl.

“I know what you’re doing. And I heard you two talking, he’s not leaving. You’re not useful alive, I knew it! Maybe he’ll leave us if you die” she sounds crazy and your heart starts to beat even faster. You run to the cabinet and start to push it to block the door. Unfortunately for you, Merricat’s plan was never to get in and you know you’re over when you smell the smoke.

tagging:  @crossbowitch @littledarlinhavefaithinme @axelwolf8109 @buckys-other-punk @teainaukgarden @slowlywithfreedom @cchellacat @loricameback@stachestachestachesebstan @eurynome827 @spacemansam @jobean12-blog @book-dragon-13@thesaltyduchess @chuuulip @msruchita@lookwhatyoumademequeue @prescription-yee-haws @joannie95 @awkwardfangirl2014 @they-are-coming-soon

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#gradually #charles blackwood #charles blackwood x you #charles blackwood x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #charles blackwood fanfic

[extreme-technicality]

Here's a ShinKami recommendation where Kami has a fear of thunderstorms and Shinsou cuddles up with him to help 😁

This was so much fun to write, thanks so much for submitting the prompt!!

Ao3 link

Thunder crashed, close, and Denki flinched involuntarily. He rolled flat on his back, uncurling from the fetal position, and forced himself to relax even as he felt the electricity in his blood dance. Lightning flashed again, not that he could see it: he felt it, in his Quirk. Good thing I’ve got rubber sheets, he thought with the vaguest touch of bitterness. Everything was wiped from his head, however, at the ensuing clap of thunder.

Trying to sleep was useless, he decided, so he wrapped his blanket around himself and went in search of something to occupy himself until morning.

Electronics are out, as is anything to do with water…reread A Tale of Two Cities? Sure, why not, Dickens is always a good—

“Motherfucker!” Denki yelped as the next flash of lightning was accompanied by thunder, forcing him to drop the book or scorch it. He fell into a low squat and breathed for a moment, calming his racing heartbeat as best he could, listening to make sure he didn’t wake Iida up by accident. When all seemed clear, he took a corner of his blanket and kept it between his hand and the book as he picked it up again. Standing, he shuffled quietly out of his room and downstairs. Comfort food is required.

The common room wasn’t as deserted as he’d hoped it would be. The tv was on and playing softly, some variety show casting warm reds and soft blues over distinctive purple hair. Shinsou. Lovely. Now I’ve gotta deal with crush anxiety on top of storm anxiety. Fucking superb, universe, truly a-1—

As if punctuating his thoughts, or perhaps in protest of the unkind portrayal of the universe, lightning struck nearby and Denki squeaked audibly.

Shinsou turned to face him, eyes reflecting weirdly in the low light. “Kaminari?”

Fuck. “Hey, Shinsou,” he replied, doing his level best to maintain his usual bubbly personality. “What are you doing up? Can’t sleep, either?”

He snorted humorlessly and went back to watching his show. “Insomnia is a bitch.”

Denki winced and moved towards the kitchen. “Imma slap an oof on that and—” he was interrupted by more thunder and lightning, this flash bright enough to illuminate the whole room for a brief second. He almost dropped everything he was holding, including the blanket– which would be bad, considering he didn’t have anything on underneath. Luckily he maintained his grip on that, but Charles Dickens fell to the ground for the second time that night.

Shinsou eyed him. “You never did say why you were still awake.”

Denki took a breath, carefully picked up his book again, and tugged the blanket tighter around himself. “Imscaredofthunderstorms.”

“Didn’t catch that.”

“I’m scared of thunderstorms, alright?” Denki snapped. Yeah, he knew it wasn’t fair of him, but he was fighting back stray sparks and stray memories; memories of another storm, a younger Denki, an uncontrollable Quirk. He rolled his shoulders and sighed, changing course to the couch and setting his book on a table. “Sorry for snapping. But, yeah. I’m scared of thunderstorms. Ironic, isn’t it?” he offered weakly.

“A little, yeah.” They lapsed into silence, Shinsou sitting on the couch and Denki perched on the arm. He struggled to not embarrass himself further with every subsequent flash and crash, while trying to get lost in the mindless variety show.

“Yknow,” Shinsou started brusquely, “I read that sometimes physical touch can help when you’re scared.”

Denki laughed hollowly. “If you’re gonna suggest we cuddle, I’m sorry, but that’s a really bad idea.”

“You could keep the blanket wrapped around you.”

That– that gave Denki pause. He really didn’t want to hurt Shinsou, but the more he thought about it the more he wanted to cuddle. He needed comfort, damnit! But…

“I don’t wanna hurt you, too,” he whispered.

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t use my Quirk to keep you from hurting me.”

Denki blinked, turning to fully face him. “You would do that?”

It must’ve been the wrong thing to say, or his hopefulness was mistaken for something else, because Shinsou flinched slightly and looked away. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“N-no! No, that’d be great! Um, my Quirk tends to surge when lightning strikes, and I can feel when it’s about to do that so I can warn you.”

Shinsou stared at him a moment longer, then nodded. “Come here.”

Denki moved, carefully arranging himself so that the blanket was always between him and Shinsou, doing his best to not spark up too much because holy fuck, he was cuddling with his crush. He felt Shinsou wrap his arms around him through the blanket when he was settled, and he added weight and heat was a little weird at first. He adjusted quickly, though. A second later he felt a disturbance in his Quirk and tensed.

“Lightning?”

“Yeah—”

The word was barely out of his mouth before he felt his control loosen and someone else take over.

“Don’t shock me,” was whispered into his hair as the lightning hit, and if Denki has been in control of his body he would’ve shivered. As it was, he wasn’t in control, and he didn’t shock Shinsou. They stayed still for a moment, then Shinsou released his Quirk.

“Well? Did it work?” Denki asked anxiously.

“Present and un-zapped, Kaminari.”

He laughed shakily and relaxed fully, tucking his head under Shinsou’s chin. “Good. I can’t believe that our plan worked.”

“You’re smarter than people think.”

He snorted. “It was your original idea, I just added a garnish.”

Shinsou said nothing, only hummed deep in his chest. “Try to get some rest. The weather said the storms would end soon.”

“Yeah, but when have weatherpeople ever been right?”

#kingdomheartstrashmouth #ask dadzawa #dadzawa writes #realheroes16 #shinkami drabbles #bnha fic

[charanteleclerc]

snapshots of you (i want a lifetime)

Link to other stories and earlier parts of hilltop confessions here

As usual crossposted to AO3 (Charante_Leclerc), and prompts are always welcome. Enjoy! ❤️

They raced each other up the hill, feet pounding the dusty tracks. Summer had truly arrived on the coast, children enjoying the prolonged freedom they’d been itching for all year. Soon they’d be able to relax too, almost a month stretching out ahead of them. No duties for at least two weeks, time just purely for them. It was so close they could almost touch it.

They ran onto the summit, laughing as they slowed down. “Draw?” Pierre asked, grinning.

“I’ll get you properly next time.” Charles retorted, flopping down onto the grass. The sun was starting to rise, and the harbour and city below them was bathed in orange. “I’m never going to get bored of that sight.”

Pierre hummed, sitting down next to Charles, leaning his head on Charles’s shoulder. The season had been ridiculously tough on them, and to still see Charles getting excited about such a small thing as a sunset made him fall in love all over again. Knowing there were just a handful of days until the summer break had certainly cheered both of them up recently. Charles was doing better, and Red Bull were tending to just leave him to himself. It worked out best for all. He was still concerned about next year, it was almost an unsaid agreement that he wouldn’t be staying at Red Bull after this season. Trying to find a drive was proving almost impossible though, so many contracts were signed already, it was beginning to look like a lost cause.

“What are you thinking about?” Charles murmured, breaking Pierre’s concentration. Pierre shrugged.

“Next year, I just keep on thinking about it.” He replied. He could hear Charles sigh, and there was a warm hand in his, gripping tightly.

“You’ll do what’s best for you.” Charles said quietly. “Whatever it is.”

“I’ll just lay at home then, watching terrible shows.”

“Fine.” Charles tried to keep a straight face, before dissolving into laughter. “I cannot imagine you doing that.”

Pierre laughed as well, turning to look at Charles. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not running away, I suppose. I mean, I might not have a job next year.” Pierre sighed. “Fuck, that’s scary.”

“You’ll find your place.” Charles gave him a small kiss, smiling. “I’ll get Ferrari to hire you.”

“Sure, they’ll replace Seb with me. Sounds likely.”

“No, as my permanent good-luck charm.” Charles replied. “What, I would!” He protested as Pierre started to laugh.

“That is possible the most cliched, sappy thing you’ve ever said to me.” Pierre said, smiling. “It was adorable.”

“Shut up.” Charles muttered into Pierre’s shoulder.

“Never.” Pierre grinned happily. “I need to remember that forever, it was so disgustingly sweet it was beautiful.”

“I take it back.”

“No you don’t!”

“Totally do.” Charles mumbled. “Never saying anything romantic to you ever again.”

“I’m going to write a book, ‘Super Sweet and Sappy Things Uttered by Charles Leclerc’ .”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t!”

                                                          ~*~

Pierre was walking through the Paddock, half listening to what his engineer was saying when Seb and Dan appeared next to him, grinning like madmen.

“Sorry, we’re going to have to borrow Pierre for a bit.” Dan said to Mike, not looking sorry at all. Miked looked at him, eyebrow raised.

“It’s okay.” Pierre nodded, trying to ignore the incredulous look Mike was giving him. He knew what it must look like from the outside, but he was not trying to focus on what anyone in the team thought of him anymore.

They waited until Mike was gone, before Dan and Seb started looking at him intensely. Pierre shuffled, feeling like something strange was going on. “Uhh, what did I do?”

“Well, it’s more about what you and Charles did.” Seb explained. “You know Dan’s making his announcement during the summer.”

“Are you the worst kept secret in the Paddock?” Pierre asked, rolling his eyes at Dan’s gleeful expression. “Honestly.”

“On this grid, it’s only Seb, and I’m pretty sure Kimi’s figured it out but he hasn’t said anything. And there’s a couple of guys in Formula E.”

“Anyway,” Seb interjected. “You know what’s being announced.”

Pierre nodded, frowning. “What of it?”

Seb took a deep breath, looking around. “I changed my mind.”

Pierre stared, gaze flickering between Seb’s hopeful face and Dan’s ecstatic one. “You changed your mind? Seriously?”

Seb nodded. “I want to make the people around me happy. I can’t do that if I’m locking them away. I was forced to stay silent for so long, but it feels wrong to let you and Dan and Charles take the full force. I should support you both, and I know you’ll do the same for us.”

“I don’t want you to do this for me.” Pierre started.

“I’m doing this for me.” Seb said, looking determined. “I need to do this for me.”

“So we’re all going round Seb’s for my anniversary. We’ll put it on social media, and bang, all done.” Dan explained. “Sound like a plan?”

“If you’re sure.” Pierre looked at Seb. “What was it you said to Charles? You can’t take it back if you tell the world?”

“I know what I said.” Seb shrugged. “I also told him once that it nearly cost me everything by hiding. I’m tired of hiding.”

Pierre grinned. “Well, I wasn’t going to say that I missed your house, but…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Seb rolled his eyes, laughing. “You love my house, not me.”

Pierre chuckled. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Gasly!” A voice shouted from nearby. Christian and Mike were walking over, identical looks of annoyance on their faces. Pierre sighed.

“Well, it’s been nice knowing you.” He said, turning to face his team principal. “Yes Christian?”

“Your job is to be focus. It doesn’t seem like you’re doing that right now.” Christian sneered, looking at Seb and Dan. Pierre couldn’t see their reactions, but he could feel Seb stiffen next to him.

“Sorry, we were just planning next week’s meeting of the gay agenda.” Dan said, sounding cheerful. The steel running through his voice was hard to spot, but indisputably there. “We’re thinking maybe glitter.”

Christian flushed, eyes narrowed. “You remember the agreement.”

“Yeah, and there’s two weeks left.” Dan reminded him. “So would you really say no to glitter?”

Christian made a noise, stalking off, with only a ‘get back to work Gasly’ growled at him. Mike stood there, looking a little confused and awkward.

“I’ll see you later.” Pierre managed, barely concealing a sigh. He watched Dan and Seb walk away, trying not to be too jealous that they could escape. At least he’d be out of this team soon.

                                                          ~*~

“Lukas, my buddy!” Pierre cried, sweeping Lukas up into a hug as he came running out of the house. “Got anymore hiding places for me to find?”

“Yes, many!” Lukas giggled, letting himself be lifted onto Pierre’s shoulders, sitting comfortably. Pierre could see Charles laughing at him out of the corner of his eye, and stuck out a tongue, winking.

“Hey guys.” Jenson walked out, a hand half raised in greeting. “You know, people don’t usually come and stay again so quickly.” He teased.

“What can I say, your house and I have a thing going on.” Pierre laughed. “Jev texted me this morning, they’ll be here tomorrow. They’re stopping by his parents on the way here, something about celebrating privately.”

“I had to stop my sister from flying over.” Jenson sighed, smiling despite himself. “Something about it being damn time.”

“Papa.” Lukas sounded stern. “Jar.”

“I’ll put money in the jar.” Jenson promised. “And I’m pretty sure it’s your naptime mister.”

“Noo.” Lukas whined, but let himself be lifted down. “You staying?” He turned pleading eyes on Pierre, and it was ridiculously difficult not to melt on the spot.

“We’ll play as much as you want later.” Pierre promised. Lukas still looked grumpy, but there were no protests from him. Charles grasped Pierre’s hand, squeezing tightly.

“That kid adores you.” He murmured.

“Wait until he meets Dan, I’ll be history then.” Pierre chuckled, turning to look at Charles. “Are you ready for this weekend?”

“It’s not us that this is all about.” Charles said, but he had a soft look in his eyes. Pierre loved that about him, that Charles knew exactly what you were thinking, whether you wanted him to know or not. “I don’t know, maybe? It doesn’t really feel like anything is going to change, because we already know. Finding out was a bigger thing for me, rather than the rest of the world knowing.”

Pierre sighed, wrapping his arms around Charles, pulling him back against his chest. “Do you think they’re all going to be okay?” He whispered, resting his chin on Charles’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Charles admitted. “I hope so.”

“It’s bigger for them.” Pierre said, Charles humming in agreement. “They’re older and married and been dealing with this bullshit for so long.”

Charles turned in Pierre’s arms, laughing as their noses bumped. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Pierre pressed a kiss to Charles’s lips, grinning. “I’m so glad you chose me.”

“You two are so goddamn sappy.” A grumpy voice complained behind them. “Do you just tell each other how much you adore each other all day, or what their eyes look like?”

“No, just around you.” Charles teased, and Seb walked up to them, looking like he was trying not to smile. “We know you’re allergic to romance.”

“How on earth does Jenson put up with you?” Pierre asked, pretending to look interested. Seb rolled his eyes, stomping towards the house, muttering under his breath. Charles snickered into Pierre’s shoulder.

“He’s definitely going to get revenge for that.”

Pierre shrugged, kissing Charles quickly again, before untangling himself, picking up the bags. “Until he does, I’m going to enjoy myself by lying on that massive bed again.”

“Just let me know when you’re planning on leaving me for the house.”

Pierre gasped. “I would never! The house is more like a free pass on a holiday deal.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t!”

                                                       ~*~

“Why am I responsible for the food?” Dan asked, staring at the tongs that had been thrust into his hands. “It’s not even my house!”

“You’re the best cook.” Jev said, giving Dan a look. “Don’t even deny it, you know it’s true.”

Dan made a face, Charles snickering nearby. “Charlie boy! You can help me.” Dan said, clapping Charles on the shoulder as he walked past, to Charles’s astonishment.

"Que?”

“Just hand me the shit I ask for.” Dan grinned, grabbing the pile of buns and throwing them at the younger man. “Easy.”

Charles groaned quietly, Dan taking no noticed. He and Jev had arrived yesterday with the brilliant idea of a barbecue, and it’d been a hectic few hours since. Jenson had done a run to the shops to get some last minute things that Seb had managed to forget yesterday (and refused to go back for), and the three of them had been sorting out food and drinks, Pierre in the garden attempting to put up the extra table. He’d been working on it for close to an hour already, so it was probable that he’d failed and was just lying surrounded by table pieces.

“Have you still not finished?” Charles could hear Dan ask outside, and he laughed, shaking his head. He walked outside, grinning when he saw a half complete table and a sorry-looking Pierre.

“It’s harder than it looks.” Pierre said sadly, looking around. “It shouldn’t have this many parts.”

Dan laughed, sitting down beside him and taking the instructions. “Dude, I think you’ve put it together back to front.”

“How?” Pierre whined. “I’m defeated. Leave me.”

“It’s almost like you’ve never been to Ikea.” Dan shook his head, starting to dismantle it. “I’m going to teach you all I know about garden furniture.”

Charles watched them, a soft smile on his face. Jev walked up behind him, same look on his face.

“He never stops, does he?” Charles asked, already knowing the answer. Jev shrugged, and it was probably only from practice that he wasn’t blushing.

“He wants to help people. Doesn’t matter how.” Jev said simply. “It’s instinctive. He sees someone in trouble and he’s already thinking of a way to fix it.”

Charles looked over at Jev, bumping his shoulder against the older man’s. “It’s going to be over soon. He might have to start being selfish.”

“Better being selfish than that half existence.” Jev muttered. “I can’t believe in a few hours it’s all going to be out in the open.”

“Once it’s out in the open you can’t take it back.” Charles murmured. “But hiding can be just as hard.”

“Harder, I think.” Jev smiled, a little sadly. “We’ll see.”

                                                          ~*~

“Worst day at the track… probably Budapest, the year I tried that overtake on you.” Seb looked across at Jenson. “I was still pretty reckless in those days, and how you treated me after the race made me grow up quickly.”

“What did you say?” Jev said curiously. Jenson blushed, looking sheepish.

“I, er, said something things about him behaving like a spoilt child, and I didn’t want to be seen with a brat.” Jenson looked downcast at the memory. “I didn’t really mean it, I just needed to vent, and you made sure you were the only verbal punching bag available. It was a bad idea on your part.”

“Man, that was harsh.” Dan sounded awed, looking between the two of them. “Savage.”

“It was what I needed to hear.” Seb said simply, and the content look was back in his eyes as he looked at Jenson. Jenson smiled back, taking a gulp of beer.

The sun was starting to set, the light tinged a warm orange, and growing dimmer around them. Lukas was asleep on the sofa nearby, oblivious to any conversation happening around him. Plates had been cleared, empty bottles stood discarded. Pierre had almost forgotten the reason they were all here, just enjoying an evening with his friends.

Jev took a drink, putting his bottle down on the table with a determined thud. “Let’s do this.” He declared, pulling out his phone. “Before we get too drunk or too afraid.”

“Let me.” Dan said, looking at his husband. Jev nodded, letting Dan stand up, angling his phone to make sure they were all in the picture. “Smile!”

Pierre smiled from where he was next to Charles, arms around his waist. Dan snapped a couple of photos, jumping back down next to Jev. “I’ll send them to you.”

Phones beeped at the same time, shaking the glasses on the table slightly. Pierre snickered, pressing his face into Charles’s shoulder.

“Do you want us to post anything?” Charles asked, absently patting his boyfriend.

“Your choice.” Jev shrugged. “People will already know you’re here.”

Pierre grabbed his phone, bringing up instagram, watching Charles do the same. Only Seb remained as he was, looking amused but holding his bottle tightly, a little pale. Jenson gripped Seb’s free hand, squeezing tightly.

“We don’t have to.” Jenson said lowly. Seb shook his head, looking determined.

“No. We have to do this. For you, and for me.” Seb said, squeezing Jenson’s hand. “Do it.”

“Okay.” Jenson looked back at his phone, and then at Dan and Jev. “Ready?”

“As we’ll ever be.” Dan gave a shaky smile, then a deep exhale. “Now?”

“Now.” Jev said, and they all pressed the button to post, looking at their phones for a few seconds, and then at each other.

“Did we just do that?” Jenson asked, looking a bit stunned. Seb was still holding onto Jenson’s hand, tight enough to leave marks.

“Holy shit.” Dan said, sounding a little hysterical. “Holy shit.”

“Nous l’avons fait.” Jev said faintly. “We finally did it.”

“Welcome to the club.” Pierre grinned. “It’s very exclusive, we hold monthly meeting, and I hope you were serious about the glitter.”

Dan laughed, and the tension was broken, laughter filling the air. Lukas stirred a little in his sleep, and Seb shushed them, standing up to check on his son.

Charles reached over, grabbing at people’s phones, ignoring their protests. “No, you’ll all focus too much on people’s reactions, and there will be negative things, and it’ll get stuck in your brains.” Charles said, putting them all in front of him. “I’ve seen it, Pierre’s seen it, it sucks. So at least the next hour, no looking at reactions.”

“Sounds fair.” Jenson said, looking at Seb as he sat back down. “How is he?”

“Still completely asleep.” Seb said quietly. “I’ll take him up in a little bit.”

“He’s had an exhausting day.” Pierre said, looking over at Lukas. “So many new people.”

“He’s done well, he’s only really met Kimi before.” Seb said, looking tense still. “Apart from family.”

“I’m glad he’s enjoying it.” Pierre said, looking at Lukas’s parents. “He’s a great kid.”

“He is.” Jenson said, opening his mouth to say more, before a phone starting ringing in front of Charles. “Who’s that?”

Charles peered at the phone. “Uhh… Andre? Jev?”

“Ah, fuck.” Jev muttered, taking the phone out of Charles’s hand. “He’s probably pissed he’s not here.”

Dan pressed a kiss to Jev’s cheek, smiling at him. “He’ll be fine with it, we’ll have dinner with him next week. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Jev replied quietly, before standing, walking away so he could talk to Andre in relative peace. “Hi, Andre, so you saw…”

They all watched him go, before Dan and Jenson turned their attentions back to their phones lying in front of Charles, giving him pleading looks. “Please?” Dan asked, hopefully. Charles shook his head decisively.

“No. You can check later.”

“Please?” Dan tried again.

“Still no.” Charles grinned. “Pretend you’re Seb for an hour.”

“Welcome to my world.” Seb grinned as the two of them made dismayed noises. “It’s lovely.”

                                                         ~*~

Pierre woke up to Charles curled into the side of him, arm thrown over him protectively. They’d returned from Switzerland yesterday, having spent a few days there after the grand reveal. Lukas had been ecstatic, especially with Pierre and Dan on hand to fulfil his every desire. Dan and Jev were taking full opportunity of the solace, knowing full well that entry to their home would be impeded by photographers and journalists. They hadn’t bothered to head back to Monaco, instead flying to Perth to visit Dan’s family.

Pierre gave a contented sigh, detangling himself gently from Charles’s grip. He padded out of the bedroom, careful to be quiet. He wanted to make sure that Charles slept as long as possible, the last few days had been tiring for both of them. He wanted to make sure that Charles didn’t overstress himself again, that he didn’t get stuck in his own head.

He poured some juice into two glasses, shutting the fridge door with his hip as he carried the drinks back to the bedroom. Charles was still fast asleep, not stirring as Pierre set one of the glasses down on the side table. Pierre walked round the bed, setting his own glass down, sliding back into bed. Charles shuffled closer, pressing back into Pierre’s side again. Pierre couldn’t help but smile, his heart warm at the sight of Charles looking relaxed and peaceful. He’d never really understand why Charles chose him, but he was never going to stop being grateful that he got to wake up every morning to this sight.

“You’re staring.” Charles muttered sleepily, opening one eye. “It’s very distracting.”

“You’re distracting.” Pierre said, lying down. “And very easy to stare at.”

“Weirdo.” Charles quirked a grin, before yawning. “What time is it?”

“A little past nine, I think.” Pierre replied, and Charles hummed in response, happily lying across Pierre again. “Someone’s cuddly this morning.”

“You’re warm.” Charles said sleepily. “And comfy.”

“I’m just a pillow to you.” Pierre teased, wrapping an arm around Charles, stroking down his back. “A giant, life-sized pillow.”

“A giant, life-sized, sexy pillow.” Charles corrected. “You forgot the most important part.”

“My sexiness?” Pierre grinned. “Tell me more.”

“No.” Charles murmured, smiling into Pierre’s chest. “You’re going to get a big head.”

“Well, I landed you, so I must be somewhere high on the scale.” Pierre countered.

“What if I said it was your personality?” Charles teased, raising his head and resting his chin on Pierre’s chest.

“I’d say rude, then thank you.” Pierre shrugged. “I know I’m sexy enough.”

“You are.” Charles agreed, pushing himself up so he was resting on his arm, face inches from Pierre’s. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Pierre said softly, watching. “Are you finally awake?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good.” Pierre whispered, pulling Charles down, kissing him. Charles gave a small oof, laughing a little.

“Eager.” Charles said, kissing back fiercely. Charles shifted his legs until he was straddling Pierre, hands dancing down sides. Pierre whined a little, tugging at his own boxers, desperate to get them off. “Do you want some help?”

“Please.” Pierre muttered, watching Charles slide them off, throwing them away. “Now yours.”

“Demanding.” Charles smirked, standing up and stripping off. “Happy?”

Pierre let himself take in the sight in front of him, wetting his lips slightly. “Yeah.” He said hoarsely. “Yeah, now please, fuck me.”

“So demanding today.” Charles said again, grabbing the lube out of the drawer, spreading it on his fingers. “Ready?”

Pierre nodded, only hissing a little as Charles slid a finger into him. He could never get over that first sensation of the cold, still caught him off guard. Charles stayed still, waiting. “Okay.” Pierre nodded. “Move.”

Charles did as he was instructed, slowly adding a second finger, then a third, crooking his fingers in just the right way to make him shudder. He was almost content to just stay like this, Charles finger-fucking him, until Charles pulled away, getting himself ready and lining himself up. Pierre whined, pushing his hips down. Charles gripped his hip, holding him in place.

“Don’t move.” Charles demanded, and he pushed in, and it took all the control Pierre had to not grind down, wanting to take in as much contact as possible. Charles was biting his lip above him, already looking desperately close. Pierre rolled his hips slightly, watching Charles shudder and groan.

“Can you move?” Pierre asked, voice tight. Charles nodded, taking a deep breath before starting a steady pace. All Pierre could do was gasp, catching a hold of one of Charles’s hands and gripping on tightly. He could feel himself slipping already, he was so close. Charles gave a strangled moan, and Pierre was gone, coming hard. Charles followed quickly, catching his breath a little before pulling out, slumping next to Pierre.

“Morning.” Pierre said, still breathless. Charles laughed, escaping him in bursts.

“Morning.” Charles replied, looking completely content. “Can every morning start like this?”

“Well, we can try?” Pierre grinned, wickedly. “Though one of us is going to have trouble sitting for an entire race.”

“Okay, most days.” Charles amended, pressing a quick kiss to Pierre’s shoulder. “I could just go back to sleep now.”

“You’ll wake up sticky.” Pierre warned, and Charles made a face.

“I know, I know.” Charles sighed. “We need to start keeping tissue in here.”

“But then I can’t enjoy the view.” Pierre pulled a sad face, with pleading eyes. “I do love it so.”

“So you’re with me just for my butt.” Charles sighed dramatically, pushing himself off the bed. “Now I know the truth.”

“Well, I do love your butt.” Pierre called after Charles, stretching out. He really needed to clean up as well, but he was just a little too comfy here now. Charles poked his head around the corner, raising an eyebrow.

“More than you love me?”

“Well…” Pierre pretended to think about it, laughing at Charles’s offended expression. “Still love you more.”

“Good.” Charles walked over, leaning down to kiss Pierre. “Love you too.”

“Your butt does come a close second though.”

“Hey!”

                                                      ~*~

Pierre was walking through the Paddock as he saw Dan and Jev enter, heads low and hands gripped tight. It was almost like watching his own memory, knowing that this must have been how he and Charles had looked in Monaco, faces closed off, holding onto the only thing that would ground them.

“Gasly.” Christian snapped at him as he passed. “Daydreaming again?”

“Sure.” Pierre replied tiredly. Christian gave a nasty smile, looking over to Dan and Jev.

“See, having the world know about your lifestyle isn’t always best.” Christian said quietly. “They look pretty stressed, don’t they? Do you really think Renault will want to keep him now? I mean, you’re already struggling to look for a seat for next year. Two career suicides it seems.”

“Fuck you.” Pierre hissed, hand twitching. He would give anything to just hit him right now, but Christian had already pointed out that he was without a drive for next year, and violent outbursts wouldn’t help his search.

“Careful.” Christian warned. “And I wonder how Ferrari will take this, the public knowing that both their drivers are gay? It’s not a good image for them. Wouldn’t surprise me if someone was cut loose.” There was a sneer, and Christian curled his lip. “Maybe do something instead of standing around, at least look like you’re busy. Another team might be fooled into the pretence.”

Pierre watched Christian walk away, seething. Christian knew he could get under his skin, he needed to stop letting him. He needed to stop letting him. He needed to keep his mind focused and relaxed, not getting worked up over whatever vile comments Christian threw at him.

Sebastian walked into the paddock, and the photographers flocked to him in a frenzy, lights flashing. Pierre could see the tension in his shoulders, how he was trying to hold himself up in front of the people trying to find a crack. Before he knew it he was walking over, pushing through the crowd, putting himself next to Seb, nudging him with his shoulder. Seb started, then gave a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” Seb said lowly. Pierre shook his head, keeping his gaze firmly on Seb.

“Don’t mention it.”

                                                            ~*~

“And with the surprise move announced today of Nico Hulkenberg to Haas, there will be a great deal of drivers interested in that free spot at Renault,including the two current drivers at Haas.”

Pierre overheard the announcement as he walked back to the motorhome, frowning. Nico was going to Haas? It wasn’t completely surprising, with Renault failing to live up to expectations this year, but that meant there was suddenly a spot up from grabs, in a comfortable midfield team as well.

Dan jogged up to him, looking uncharacteristically serious. “Hey, got a minute?”

Pierre shrugged. “Sure. How’s… y’know, everything?”

“It’s good, the press were never going to be easy, but I’d talked to the team when I signed so everything’s normal there. Plus, I get to see Christian squirm everytime he sees me or Jev, and Jev is taking revenge for how Red Bull dealt with everything.”

“I can imagine what that means.” Pierre chuckled. Dan led him towards Renault, into a small room, and Pierre stopped when he saw who was sat inside. “Er, hi Cyril.”

“Good afternoon Pierre.” Cyril said, gesturing at a spare chair. “Please, sit.”

Pierre did as he was told, mind racing. Why was Cyril here? Why was he here? He looked at Dan, who was giving nothing away. Damn, he could be a good actor when he wanted.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard that we’ve recently lost a driver.” Cyril said calmly, like Nico had just gone a walk instead. “We need someone to replace him.”

“Okay.” Pierre said, looking between Dan and Cyril, and the other team members in the room. “And you want… me?”

“We think you’re a talented driver, and Dan had vouched for how you work within a team, and we saw how well you worked at Toro Rosso. I understand you’ve had a difficult year, but you wouldn’t find those obstacles with us.”

“Are you sure you don’t want more time?” Pierre asked. “I’m not saying no, but the announcement only just went out.”

“We’ve known about Nico for some weeks now.” Cyril waved his hand. “We’ve been weighing up our options, and we want you. Obviously, if you’re happy at Red Bull…”

“What are your terms?” Pierre asked. “I’m assuming Dan is going to be lead driver?”

“Yes, but we can increase your salary to $2million. Two year contract, and no interference in your personal life.” Cyril said, smiling. Pierre knew that was the clincher, the sheer lack of any meddling. “What do you say?”

Pierre looked at Dan, before holding out his hand to Cyril. “I say that I can’t wait for next year. Yes, I’ll join.”

Dan whooped as Cyril gripped his hand, looking pleased. “Welcome to Renault, Pierre.”

                                                           ~*~

Pierre headed into the Ferrari motorhome, no-one even noticing him anymore. He’d become an almost constant figure, never stopping long enough to make it uncomfortable for either him or them, but the sight of him walking through to Charles’s room no longer set the italian team on edge.

Charles barely looked up as he entered, busy signing cards and caps and whatever else the team wanted. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Pierre replied, dropping a kiss onto Charles’s head. “I’ll give you three guesses who I’ve just been speaking to.”

Charles looked up, a little frown creasing between his eyes. “Well, you don’t sound pissed so I doubt anyone from Red Bull. Uh, Seb?”

“Nope.”

“Jev?”

“Not even close.” Pierre grinned. “One guess left.”

“I don’t know, Jean?” Charles shrugged. “Who?”

“Cyril.” Pierre said, dropping down next to Charles, crossing his feet and pulling them up onto the seat, tapping at his shoes. “I’ve been offered a drive.”

“Replacing Nico?” Charles asked, dropping his pen. “Shit, Pierre, that’s fantastic!”

“Two years, bigger salary, I’m definitely the number two driver but fuck it, I don’t care. I’m out of Red Bull, to somewhere that actually wants me.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Charles said, framing Pierre’s face, dragging him in for a fierce kiss. “So fucking proud of you.”

“They really want me Charles.” Pierre whispered against Charles’s lips. “They really want me.”

“Because they can see what I see, that you’re insanely talented.” Charles said, resting his forehead against Pierre’s. “They can see you’re worth it.”

Pierre let out a shaky breath, then he leaned in for a desperate kiss, pushing Charles down until he was laying underneath him, looking up at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. Pierre tugged Charles’s shirt off, followed by his own, throwing them across the room. He pressed gentle kisses to Charles’s neck, only letting himself bruise and bite in places that could be covered up.

“Pierre.” Charles gasped, a hand in his hair. “Pierre.”

Pierre grinned against Charles’s stomach, biting and licking and kissing his way down. Charles moaned as Pierre reached his jeans, opening them, pushing them and his underwear out of the way. Pierre moved back up to kiss Charles, working his own jeans open. He could feel Charles gasping into his mouth as he took both of them in hand, feeling him squirm and shudder restlessly underneath him.

“You going to come for me?” Pierre whispered, and Charles did so, biting into a pillow to stop the ragged moan. Pierre followed him quickly, groaning into Charles’s shoulder, collapsing.

Charles petted at Pierre’s hair, rubbing circles with his thumb. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just… a lot of emotions.” He replied, shifting so he could look at Charles. “Good emotions though.”

“I really am so proud of you.” Charles murmured, and Pierre wanted to take a snapshot of this moment, to keep this little piece of perfection in a bubble forever.

“Charles, we’re needed - oh my god, my eyes!” Seb yelped, backing out quickly, shutting the door with a slam. “There’s a thing called a fucking lock!”

                                                        ~*~

Pierre raced up onto the top of the hill, watching Dan slow down in front of him, collapsing onto his back, panting. Charles had suggested that they should all go for a run, an excuse to get out of the apartment for Dan and Jev, and they chosen the now familiar path leading up here. They’d left early enough that barely anyone else had been around, the press getting bored quicker than they had with him and Charles. It was still drama and shock, but it wasn’t brand new, and that’s what they really wanted to be able to tear into. Dan and Jev were less unconcerned about the world had to say about them, just happy they could really be honest about themselves. Jenson and Seb seemed to be having an easier time as well, with Jenson not actively racing and Seb not giving a shit about other people’s opinions, but that wasn’t any different to normal.

“Still the best.” Dan whooped, raising his arms in victory. “Hail your king.”

Pierre made a noise, laying down next to him. Jev and Charles finally walked up to the top, sitting down and pulling voices as Dan made a noise that sounded suspiciously like ‘losers’ .

“Just because we don’t want to kill ourselves.” Jev said, ignoring his husband’s muttering.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Dan asked, shifting so he could rest his head on Jev’s thighs. “It’s so nice to able to do this.”

“I still can’t imagine hiding it all these years.” Charles said, shaking his head. “It’s insane.”

“It’s not something we have to worry about ever again.” Jev said. “Whatever anyone says, this is better.”

“Even when there are still hateful assholes on the grid? In the paddock?” Pierre asked quietly. “Sometimes it feels like I’m fighting a losing battle.”

“They’ll never win, and you’ll be out of there soon.” Charles reminded him. “Soon your only problem will be putting up with Dan as a teammate.”

“Rude.” Dan replied lazily. “I’m perfect.”

“Yes, yes.” Jev said, petting Dan’s hair. “Whatever you say.”

“Fuck you too.” Dan said, with no real heat between his words. Pierre chuckled, pulling out his phone.

“Do you think the world should get enough picture?” He asked, looking around at Charles, at Dan and Jev. Dan made grabby hands at the phone.

“Designated selfie taker here.” He declared, sitting up. He shook the grass from his hair, angling the phone. “Smile, you’re on camera!”

“You want to share this with the world?” Charles said quietly. Pierre looked at him, reaching for his hand and squeezing lightly.

“I want to show them you are my world.”

“Ew, gross.” Jev said, even though he was smiling.

“That was so sweet it made my teeth hurt.” Dan said, throwing the phone back to Pierre. “Seb has a swear jar, you guys need a sappy jar.”

“You were worse than them.” Jev reminded him, smiling wickedly. “What was it you used to say? I was your heart and soul, your missing piece?”

Charles turned gleeful looks on Dan, who in turn glared at Jev.

“Oh, my heart and soul!” Pierre cried dramatically, falling into Charles’s waiting arms. “I cannot go on without you!”

“Great husband you are.”

“Love you too.”

                                                         ~*~

#pierre gasly #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #jean-eric vergne #sebastian vettel #Jenson Button #f1 fanfic #jevcardo #sebson

[samingtonwilson]

Faking It - Part 2 - Bucky Barnes

Part 1

Summary: loosely based on Faking It by Calvin Harris feat. Kehlani & Lil Yachty (watch here, listen here).

Warnings: language, a little angsty

A/N: this part’s a bit of a doozy and i still love this song like crazy. like, really, really crazy.

Your cheeks hurt when Bucky was in the same room.

Your lips would curve up and your cheeks would ache in a soreness you could feel for the remainder of the day but neither would your eyes narrow, nor would your irises gleam. You couldn’t frown, though— you wouldn’t frown.

You justified it to yourself, you told yourself it was okay to pretend being over him. After all, the smile he sent you in return was just too calming, the shift in his features as he listened to you speak was just too pacifying, the sound of his voice as he spoke to you was just too honeying— you were allowed to once again find the warmth of his presence addicting, you were allowed to act as if you could no longer feel the weight of your feelings for him in every part of you. You were entirely allowed to still be in love with him— but he could never know that.

He thought the mask of contentment you wore eventually slipped off to reveal similarly placated features underneath, he thought the faux smiles you offered him were more authentic than the sighed “I love yous” and soft gazes of the past. And even this hurt him, even this forced his heart into his stomach and his stomach into jerky somersaults.

But he justified it to himself, he told himself it was okay that you were over him. After all, the relationship the two of you shared was just too explosive, the burden of his weight to carry was just too taxing, the loss of his stress looming over you must have been just too relieving— yet he was allowed to find contradictory solace in your warmth while he burned, he was allowed to be glad that the world he set on fire for you was serving its intended purpose. He was entirely allowed to still be in love with you— but you could never know that.

Your first thought rang loudly in your head upon seeing Bucky as he sidestepped Steve’s chair to enter the kitchen. His dark hair stuck up at all ends, his cheeks and jaw littered with three day’s growth, and his clothes were soft and lightly wrinkled. You almost shouted those three words your mind seemed to be consistently whispering when he offered you a crooked and lazy smile, swollen eyes narrowing as slate blue irises glistened beneath thick lashes.

He nodded in appreciation when you handed him his favorite bowl from the dish basket, reaching above you as you sat atop the counter in order to retrieve a mug from a high cabinet. He struggled a bit to pull the porcelain from the cupboard, only able to open it a crack to make sure it didn’t smack the back of your head.

Finally removing it, he sighed and stepped back. “Thanks for moving out of the way, doll.”

“Here to help, Buck,” you quipped, turning your attention to the magazine in your lap once more. You narrowed your eyes at the pages you were unable to concentrate on, your smile now a smaller smirk— you were vigilant in making sure it wouldn’t shrink further. “You’re up awfully early— s’only noon.”

He nodded, leaning back against the counter opposite you so he could trace your features. He followed the slope of your nose to the swell of your smiling lips, the length of your eyelashes to the curve of your ears. “Had a long night.”

“Yeah? Another rousing night of you and Steve checking your dentures to figure out which tooth is the bluetooth the kids are going on about these days?”

You heard a fork clatter and turned your head in the direction of the noise, seeing a disgruntled Steve with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted in a wide scowl. There was a bit of humor in his baby blue eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest, his shirt practically crying out as the fabric was stretched impossibly thin. “I’ll have you know that we don’t wear dentures. We spent the night playing checkers and yelling at nothing.”

“Would’ve fed the birds but the cold hurts my hip,” Bucky added, snorting with a roll of his eyes as he lifted the lid to one of the pots on the stove. He wrinkled his nose as soon as he’d only half inhaled. “What the hell is this?”

“Sam tried his hand at savory oatmeal this morning,” you replied, continuing your smile so the apples of your cheeks stung. “It’s spinach, onion, mushroom, and that one cheese with the funny name.”

“Manchego?” he guessed, scooping a bit into the bowl. He held it under his nose and inhaled deeply with a frown of consideration— you followed the wrinkles above his furrowed brow and found yourself wanting to kiss the deep lines away. “Halloumi? Muenster?”

You shook your head, staring at your magazine again once an uncomfortable heat settled in your stomach. “No, no, and no.”

“Havarti? Gorgonzola?”

With a scoff, you flipped the page without absorbing even one word of the article you were meant to be reading as per Wanda’s recommendation. “Can’t remember to put the fucking toilet seat down but you’re a damn anthology for types of cheese.”

“Been alive for a hundred years,” he began, setting the bowl into the microwave and switching it on for thirty seconds, “eaten a lot of cheese.”

“Gouda!” you shouted, lifting your head and meeting his gaze that seemed to have been on you the whole time. Your smile faltered when his head tilted in that small, tender way but you widened your grin instead— your lips shook in protest just as the beating in your chest did. “It’s gouda cheese.”

Something about your smile knocked at him, forcing his own lips to fall into a frown. Maybe it was the way you struggled to keep it constant, maybe it was its constant nature in and of itself— something about it felt wrong to him, something about it felt disingenuous.

Once he’d taken the bowl out of the microwave and stirred the mixture with a spoon, he crossed the room to sit beside Steve. As soon as he sat, he tilted his head downwards but looked in your direction through his eyelashes.

Your smile was gone, replaced with lips parted in concentration. Your eyes were narrowed, eyebrows knit together as you read each word on the page. You looked more at peace than Bucky had seen in a while— all it took was some distance between the two of you.

And that did nothing for the sinking in his chest.

He watched a natural, easy smile spread over your lips as Wanda stepped before you and rapped her knuckles against your knee— a natural, easy smile spread over his lips as well.

You held up the magazine for her to see and pointed at the page number. “See? I am reading it.”

Bucky didn’t catch the way Wanda smiled, the way Wanda flicked her long wavy hair over her shoulder, the way Wanda replied in her most sarcastic voice— all he caught was the laugh you replied with, the hiccup your laugh was punctuated with, the fingers you attempted to stifle your hiccup with.

You shifted then, leaning your back against the wall your shoulder was previously leant against and pulling your legs up so your knees sat at your chest and your feet were flat atop the counter. You thought you were being discreet when you peered over the edge of your magazine to look at Bucky as he talked to Steve in gravely rumbles, the frown he wore almost launching you to your feet so you could race over to him and smooth it away with your own lips.

His gaze eventually drifted to you, his eyes meeting yours and widening when he noticed you staring.

You gave him a smile and lifted your magazine to cover your face, sighing out quietly and rolling your eyes to yourself.

It wasn’t long after breakfast and your training session with Natasha that you found yourself lounging around Sam’s room, your legs draped over his as you laid perpendicular to each other on his bed.

You held a book above your face, setting it onto your stomach so you could prop yourself up on your elbows. “Do you think Charles Bukowski was a misogynist?”

“That the guy that wrote Women?”

You hummed your affirmation as he sat up to lean against his headboard.

“Then he sure as fuck was a misogynist.” He narrowed his deep brown eyes for a moment. “You think people get that legalizing pot goes beyond bein’ able to get stoned freely?”

“You mean in, like, a decriminalization sense?” you asked with a frown of consideration. “S’interesting. I usually think about decriminalization being necessary for sex workers so they get the same protection as ordinary laborers.”

He frowned as well. “Still gonna be hoards of people runnin’ around screaming about immorality and punishment.”

“People are stupid,” you mumbled, lying back and picking up your book once again. “We should get stoned some time.”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to be around you with lowered inhibitions.”

You propped yourself up again and glared at him as he met your gaze with an easy smile. “My inhibitions aren’t high.”

He hummed curtly. “Right. Meanwhile I’ve been sitting here, watching you smile at Barnes hard enough to make your face crack.”

You made a loud squeak of offense. “I have not!”

“Fakest smile I’ve ever seen.” He sighed a moment later, setting his own book beside his phone on his nightstand. His eyes were warm and gentle. “There’s no shame in missing him.”

You fell back in defeat. “I thought I’d be over him by now— I thought I would’ve been over him weeks ago. But here I am, two months later, just as in love with him as I was before.”

“You’re both dumb as shit.”

“Excuse me?” you asked with a snort.

There was a knock at the door and Sam jostled your legs in order to signal you to answer it as he stated, “Lying to yourselves, lying to each other— no good is coming of it. Y’all are miserable without each other.”

You exhaled exaggeratedly, pushing yourself off the bed and dusting your fleece-lined leggings off, walking backwards as you reached the door and yanked it open. “Listen here, Samela, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

You turned around after a single nod and your mouth automatically snapped shut. You seemed to wilt under his gaze, your smile struggling before finally painting itself over your lips so the pain in the apples of your cheeks matched that which spread through your veins. “Buck.”

He didn’t return your smile this time and the soreness in your cheeks grew stronger as a result, his head turning to avert his gaze as you saw the hard lines of his jaw clench. When he looked at you once more, he’d evened out his expression and took a breath. “Wilson’s here, right?”

You nodded and stepped aside so he could enter and take a seat in the desk chair. You stood awkwardly at the door for a few moments, clearing your throat as you shut the door again and perched yourself in the same spot as before. You stared at your phone this time, though, stealing glances at Bucky whenever you were sure he wasn’t looking.

Scrolling through your group chat with Wanda and Natasha, you half-listened to the two men and picked your head up when something piqued your interest. You had a partial smile despite yourself as you stated, “Yeah, we’re not changing up the pairs.”

“Don’t really think that’s up to you,” Sam muttered to himself, wincing loudly when you pinched his upper arm harshly. “What the fuck?”

“I’m not going to be paired up with Clint! All he talks about is how bummed his kids are that he’s away and he can barely hear me when I call for help.”

“The man’s partially deaf,” Bucky interjected, an eyebrow raised as he followed your every movement. He would have laughed at the incredulous expression you offered him had your smile not been so artificial.

“What was wrong with the old pairs?” you pressed, dropping your smile when you looked at Sam. “You and Wanda, Steve and Nat, me and Bucky, Tony and Rhodey, Clint and Vision. Banner’s not leaving the compound and there’s no need for the Norse god to descend upon us mere mortals. Why shake things up if it worked out last time?”

“Cho thinks Rhodes should sit this one out.”

You tilted your head. “Okay? How does that change the teams? Vision’s omnipotent, he can handle shit on his own.”

“We were actually thinking Vision would be with Stark, you’d be with Barton, and I’d be on my own,” Bucky explained, his voice low and even, almost too controlled. “I know the layout of the base and—”

“I’m sorry,” it was as if your smile had slipped off in an instant, as if you’d been waiting to drop it and squash it under your feet. “You want to be on your own?”

He opened his mouth to reply and you shook your head, holding up a finger that you then used to point at him. “You? When we infiltrate a HYDRA base?” You shook your head and sighed. “Bucky, I know the Wakandan scientists are incredible but what they did isn’t foolproof. It’s fallible, you said so yourself.”

“It’ll take a hell of a lot more than sayin’ some words and being on the base to undo it all, (Y/N),” he told you, his voice still low but struggling to stay even. “I can handle it by myself.”

“You don’t know what it’ll take! These particular circumstances haven’t been tested.”

“(Y/N), —”

“Buck, we work well together. I’ve been able to bring you back in the past, too. It makes no logical sense to split us up.”

He leant forward, his elbows on his knees as he narrowed his eyes so the slate blue looked almost metallic and piercing. You could almost hear the angry whir of his arm as his fingers flexed. “We are split up, (Y/N). And, judging by how happy you are, it made perfect logical sense to do it.”

“I know you want to feel better about how you ended us but this isn’t about our relationship,” you replied, sitting up straighter as well. You were scowling now and Bucky was finally able to separate your mask from the features that lied beneath--- he was oddly satisfied. “This is about the mission.”

“How I ended us?”

“Yeah. You know, when you got all heroic and noble and told me you would only bring me down? When you convinced yourself you were doing right by me when you were really just tired of whatever we had and needed an excuse.”

“I didn’t do it for myself,” he argued, his voice growing louder with each word. “I mean, do I look happy to you?”

“Yeah, actually, you do.” You looked away for a moment. “You said yourself a few weeks ago that you’re a fucking eight out of ten, you’re fucking bursting in glee.”

“This is why we can’t work together. We’ll fight and you’ll spend the whole time smiling and singing like I didn’t mean shit to you.”

“That’s what you think?” you asked, gritting your teeth together when the stinging in your eyes matched the stinging that radiated through your cheeks and chest. “You think you didn’t mean shit to me? You think all the time I spent telling you how much I love you and showing you how much I love you was fake? You think that was all an act?”

Sam was looking between the two of you, his lips parted but no sounds leaving them. He wanted to interrupt, though, he wanted to tell you both to shut the fuck up and kiss and make-up already. But he knew it wasn’t his place, even though this was physically his place.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed challengingly. You thought he might be able to see through you, you thought he might just be too stubborn and prideful to say something himself. “Then what’s the act, doll? Enlighten me.”

You laughed mirthlessly and shook your head, picking up your phone and book. “S’not worth it. Fuck the mission, I’ll ask Steve if I can stay here instead.”

Sam clicked his tongue. “(Y/N), —”

“It’s okay, Sam. I’m not really needed anyway and Scott’s been begging to step in.” You stood and smiled softly. “I’ll stay and help Banner with whatever he’s been doing in the lab. I’m happy to stay,” you emphasized, not even glancing at Bucky as you passed him to reach the door.

Sam wasted no time between the door shutting behind you and glaring intensely at Bucky. He crossed his arms over his chest and gritted his teeth with enough force to crack them. “You’re a real fuckin’ jack ass, you know that?”

“Wilson, —”

“Shut the hell up, man. I’m not makin’ you oatmeal anymore.”

#should be one or two more parts #hopefully only 1 more #we'll see #it's still that angst for now though! #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #WHY ARE THERE SO MANY TAGS

[widgenstain]

Currently cleaning out my fic folder. This barbarian/monk crackpornfluff has been lying around for a while now. Cannot remember why I wrote it, probably because I wanted to write some top!Erik again for a change. Have fun and ignore the bad English!

“They have so much gold, they paint their books with it, pages over pages!”, Toad nodded gravely, Don't laugh, I have seen them with my own eyes!”

'”How do you paint books with gold? Gold is solid. Besides, it's heavy and monks are weaklings, how are they supposed to carry those books around?”

„It's only very thin gold! Erik, you have seen them too!“

Toad turned to him and poked him in the side. Ignoring Erik's warning grunt, he kept going:

“They value them for what they scribble in them though. They’re obsessed with it. You should have seen the one crying at the last place we went to, when I ripped that stupid leather thing apart. They are so weird.” 

“Monks are weird”, agreed Victor, “but they do make the best beer. I can't wait to get my hands on some stout and barley bread. And maybe on some of the monks too.”

“What!?”

“Don't pretend to be so surprised, you slimy creep. You’re into much worse. Erik here gets me, right?” Victor grinned his feral, dark-stained grin.

“They're weak, pale and softer than women under their robes. I mean, they’re usually so scared - or into it, they don’t struggle or wiggle much, so if that’s more your thing, you’re at a loss, but I’ve had some great hours with their asses and mouths.

Erik psshhed and Victor shrugged.

“Don't pretend you're better than me. You do it, I do it, why shouldn't we all have a little fun with them before we kill them? Speaking of ...”

Between the leaves of the forest's crown the impressive defensive walls of the monastery had appeared. In Erik's old company this would have been the time to make camp and go over the plan of attack. In this new group of fearsome Norsemen, it was time you charged at the castle swinging your axe without a moment of hesitation. The men yelled their battle cries as they leapt through the mud, weapons raised and clubs crashing heavily against the wooden planks of the main gate. They hammered and splintered away, the noise deafening in the air and slowly the oaken gate gave way to the assault.

 Except...

 The gate was open. The fearsome warriors weren't faced with a real door, they cursed and fought mirages made of dust and air.

“Hey Erik!”, a red-headed boy greeted him as Erik walked through the gate.

“Did you bring the spices I asked for?”

“All down by the boat, I'll get them in a minute.”

“Ha, yeah, a minute...” he froze at  Erik’s face, “I’m joking! Don’t worry about them, Hank and I will get them! You enjoy yourself!” As much as he wanted to scold Sean and make the boy tremble with fear, there were more important matters at hand.

Erik pretty much flew up the stairs to the dormitorium. It was empty at this time of day, except for the very naked abbot of the monastery who was casually lightening candles in the back. He didn't even look up from his conduct, as if he hadn't noticed Erik barging into the room. Erik could feel his mouth water at the sight of the thick, creamy thighs and the perfectly round globes of his ass. Pale? Yes. Soft? In some areas. Weak? Well, those who had wrongly assumed so had paid a painful price.

He felt Charles’ puckish grin spread in his mind and the sensation of what it feels like when he burrows his beard in Charles’ shaven neck. Erik couldn't keep in the groan and he pretty much pounced Charles who pretended to only see him now.

“Oh no, intruders, barbarians, we are doomed!”

“Oh shut up!” Erik pulled him into a tight embrace and crashed their mouths together in a hungry, bordering on desperate kiss. Usually he had better control, but with a display like this and almost three months away from Charles, Erik ached for the feel of Charles’ lips on his. And Charles grabbed him by the back of his head and kissed him back fiercely, noses and teeth clashing. But after a few, blissful moments, Charles broke it up and wailed:

“Oh what will I do, a strong wild man has come to ravish me”, all while he leaned his compact, NAKED body against Erik's still unfairly dressed one.

“What are you talking about?”

“Will you not forcefully deflower me, like a true Norseman would with a weak and wilting young monk like me?”

No eyeroll could express what all was wrong with that sentence, yet Erik still tried.

“Charles, please, stop that nonsense.”

He brought their mouths back together and Charles gave in until:

There are 27 men with limited and very brutal fantasies fighting a glorious battle downstairs, thanks to me. Humour me a little.

Erik, weak in the knees thanks to Charles sucking on his tongue like the demon in monk robes that he clearly was, sighed into the kiss and slid his hand down to roughly grab one of the perfect cheeks.

“Alright, but this ‘Norseman’ wants to be undressed and not do much of the work tonight, understood?” 

Charles licked his reddened lips, nodded with a twinkle in his eye and went on to flick the buttons of Erik’s jacket open. For someone so desperate to be ravished, he was took his time though, kissed and licked every new bit of exposed skin, sloooowly ran his fingers down the line of Erik’s neck... 

Until Erik let a frustrated noise, pushed him back to his bed and finished the job much quicker. Mischief, pure mischief was written on the beautiful face as Charles laid back on the simple berth and spread his legs. His gorgeous fat cock curved against his belly, hard and wet at the tip, while below the hair was dark and mussed up.

Erik groaned and practically ripped his leggings off. He was on Charles mere seconds later, right between his legs, he kissed the red mouth hard and couldn’t help but grind his stiffening erection against the straw filled mattress.

“Yessss:”

You are incorrigible, he thought at Charles as he kissed his way down the pale chest to the ticklish belly and licked the tip of Charles’ cock who groaned and tried to move his hips away.

“What a strange Norseman who sucks his poor, helpless bounty’s cock.

“This “Norseman” missed the taste and he’s not going to let this be taken from him, even if he apparently has no say in the general proceedings”, he swallowed him deep, tell me if you want me to stop.

Charles’ needy moan and the hand suddenly fisting his hair told Erik that this was not the case.

And just HOW Erik had missed this! He’d done this with other men before, before he’d met Charles, but he’d never expected that he would like it this much. Or just like it. Full stop.

Charles was different than those nameless men in every sense; he was perfect. Erik loved the musky taste, the foreskin and the shape, he loved how deep he could take him and how the stretch didn't bother him; instead it filled him with pride when Charles whined and grabbed his hair tighter.

He’d wanted this the whole damned crossing and it was so much better than the memories he had jerked off to. As a matter of fact: he reached down to take himself in hand and rub his cock in the same rhythm, he was so horny, he was going to burst any minute or so anyway.

“No! No.”

Charles pulled up Erik’s head rather abruptly.

“You aren’t the only one who went through a dry spell, you’re going to keep it together. You can do that later if you want to.”

Charles scrambled up and climbed to his knees, butt raised and presented himself to Erik like a gift.

“This way. We haven’t done this in ages, besides, I’ve used half of your oil this morning, it cannot go to waste.” He wiggled his ass at Erik who grinned but also couldn’t tear his eyes off the display.

“So economic. Where’s the rest?”

“Silver phial.” Charles went down on his forearms and stretched his back in the obscenest manner.  The little bottle shot through the air like an English man’s dart and Erik suddenly couldn’t slick up fast enough. He ached for it and it took all of his composure not to come as he levelled behind Charles and breached him slowly. Or tried to breach him slowly since Charles pushed back and took him to the root with a long, deep, satisfied sigh. Erik grabbed the cheeks, nails sunk in as a warning, but it only spurred Charles on.

“Come on, take me. Take me, I need it.”

“Wah..sn’t this supposed to be some helpless victim fantasy?”

“Screw that. Fuck me.” Charles moved on his dick and Erik almost choked on his tongue so heavy and thick it felt in his mouth. He wanted this. Charles wanted this, he could do it. He pushed back, countered the rhythm Charles had set and slowly fucked him, every thrust measured and with the goal to bring Charles more joy than the incredible, soft wet heat brought him.

It was bloody useless though. Charles thrust back, his hole so welcoming and greedy even, clenching around him with every move that devil of a man made. Erik whined tried to regain some control, pulled out under Charles’ noisy protest but couldn't resist the low and needy moans that followed. He shifted on his knees, went for a better angle and thrust back in. He’d forever deny that shout, but from that moment on it was a brutal and fast mess. He pounded into Charles who encouraged him, a filthy stream of obscenenities falling from his mouth, with no rhythm, no finesse.

“Yes, there, deeper, come on take me, fuck me, faster, Oh Lord in heaven yessss.”

Erik sobbed and pushed Charles’ shoulders down, mainly to shut him up, but he only got muffled moans in return, and an ass that fucked back even more relentlessly. Erik grabbed the soft flesh before him, right now Charles ass was the best thing he’d ever touched, probably ever, round and soft and so insatiable like its owner. Erik slapped it, sharp and loudly,

“Yes that’s it, do it harder!”

Erik’s coherency spectacularly collapsed while he still  TRIED.

He slapped Charles’ ass again, undulated his hips and pushed into him with quick, deep thrusts that shook their small bed and fully kept him in the tight vice of Charles’ greedy body. Down to the root, sunk in his lover, he smacked that perky flesh again and muttered, most likely not only figuratively out of his mind:

“This is what you want? To be held down and used like this? To be fucked like all the men out there want to fuck you? Like a piece of ass, to be used and thrown away?” 

The gasp that followed did it. Charles body was raked with a deep shiver, like this was precisely what he’d waited for, and Erik came. To the gasp, to the heat, to this relentless friction on his cock he spilled himself into Charles, almost crying at the relief it brought him.

When he came back to his senses he leaned against the whitewashed wall of the dormitorium while a sweaty, grinning Charles straddled his chest. He was still very much aroused to Erik’s surprise.

I said you could do that later, didn’t I?

Erik grinned like a loon and without a second of hesitation he swallowed Charles down. As far gone as he was it didn’t take more than a few needy sucks from Erik to make Charles cry out and try to pull back. But he wasn’t the only one determined amongst them, so Erik refused to let him go and with a very un-monk-like curse falling from his lips, Charles came down Erik’s relaxed throat. When he pulled back Erik couldn't help the cough but Charles contented and slightly dumb  face was worth all the discomfort in the world.

Re-arranged and cuddled together on the small bed, Erik tried to stay awake, there were errands to run, and the fools of his company to be taken care of.

Put them to sleep right the moment you came through this door. It’s not as if the others couldn't deal with them if I slipped but I didn't want to accidentally broadcast something of this into their sad little brains.

“You didn’t? Don’t you usually give them fantasies that are quit similar to this? Didn’t you want to show me off?” 

Similar, yes. But not you. Not us. You are mine and this is for us. It’s not to be shared. 

Charles’ face lay close to his on the one pillow and if Erik didn’t know better there almost was something shy in the otherwise so confident smile.

“So I am”, Erik said and finally gave Charles the soft, lingering kiss he’d wanted to give him the past three months. 

#cherik #fanfiction #there's some casual talk about rape in the beginning but this is really mostly cracky fluff #this had some other ending in the beginning #a more dirty and less fluffy one #but it didn't fit #maybe I'll use it somewhere else #I dunno #conflicted feeling about fanfiction lately #so I'm blowing out everything that's rolling around on my computer #and see how I'll feel about it in a few months #my stuff

[shell-senji]

Juicy

“Juicy,” a Fairy Tail, NaLu one-shot. Enjoy!

[*Note: I do not as a general rule take and/or write requests, simply because my muse hates my guts and accepting requests is essentially guaranteeing instantaneous writer’s block.]

Request from a Tumblr ask from @nalufever (that Tumblr subsequently ate):  Natsu had always wondered what the last straw was for Lucy. Looking up at the hot summer sky, he now knew. A chuckle made his sore ribs grate on each other - and he vowed never to repeat those ill-chosen words. Too bad everyone in the guild had taken to parroting that phrase. He didn't know it then, but Natsu was a dead man walking. 

If you asked him now what possessed him to do it, Natsu couldn’t tell you. He supposed you could chalk it up to his impulsivity and lack of filter. Or perhaps because of the fact that now that they were officially together, he couldn’t keep his hands off her—and didn’t have to. Not that he hadn’t been touchy-feely before, but it was different now. She was his.

Whatever the reason, his actions and ill-chosen words had landed him where he was at present. Lying flat on his back in front of the guild, staring up at the impossibly blue summer sky and hoping Lucy’s patented “Lucy Kick” hadn’t cracked any ribs. It was bad enough he’d probably have to pay for the damages to the guild doors…

Looks like I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.

He chuckled, and then winced. Laughing was not a good idea.

So what exactly was it our favorite pink-haired dragon slayer did to earn the wrath of his blond beloved? 

 Ten minutes earlier

Natsu entered the guildhall in a good mood—they’d finished a job the day before and managed, amazingly, not to damage any property and had earned the full reward, something their team rarely accomplished. The sun was shining, he’d slept in, and Lucy had even made him breakfast before she headed to the guild several hours ahead of him. Something about meeting with Levy, he wasn’t sure.

As it was nearing lunchtime, the hall was fairly full, and Happy flew off to greet—and harass—Charle, so Natsu looked for his girlfriend.

A-ha!

Leaning over a table and chatting with Levy was Lucy, and from where he was standing, Natsu had a fantastic view of her blue cutoffs-clad ass. In retrospect, he supposed it was that view, and the effect it had on him, that had impacted his ability to think rationally.

Strolling up, he smacked that delectable ass hard, saying, “Damn, that thang is juicy. Hey, Luce!”

Gray choked on his drink and somehow lost his shirt in the process. Levy looked up at Natsu, wide-eyed, and stared, too stunned to comment. Gajeel rolled his eyes and mumbled something along the lines of “Oh, Salamander, you moron…”

Lucy jerked up and whirled around. “Please tell me you did not just do—and say—what I think you did,” she said, her voice deceptively calm.

Natsu tilted his head. “What? It is!” he protested, gaze roaming over her figure appreciatively.

Her eyes narrowed, and shortly thereafter he found himself on the receiving end of the “Lucy Kick” that catapulted him through the guild front doors and resulted in aching, possibly cracked, definitely bruised ribs.

Eh, she’ll get over it. After all, it wasn’t the first time Natsu had said or done something stupid regarding Lucy, and she still loved him. How much worse can it get?

Somewhere, the Fates, those fickle bitches, sat up and took notice.

Natsu did indeed spend the night on the couch as he’d anticipated—sure, he could’ve gone home, but he figured sucking it up and sleeping on the sofa would go toward the amends he apparently needed to make.

Jeeze. It’s not like I said she was fat!

Lucy was still asleep, so he remained where he was on the couch, knowing he’d only piss her off further if he made a “racket,” as she liked to call it, and woke her up. Thankfully on vibrate, his communications lacrima buzzed across her coffee table, and he yawned and stretched before picking it up.

Ice Stripper: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA Sucks to be you, Flame Breath

Okayyyy… Natsu shrugged, yawning again. He was sure he’d find out as soon as he next saw Gray just what the ice-make mage found so damned funny.

Gajeel: Salamander, you’re a dead man…

What the fuck? That rust bucket oughta know better than to threaten me! Natsu clenched his fist, barely containing literal sparks of anger. Burning the sofa was yet another thing that wouldn’t keep him in Lucy’s good graces. 

Erza: Natsu, I do not approve of this new nickname you’ve given Lucy. We’ll talk when you get to the guild later today.

Nickname?

Natsu felt a headache coming on, and his stomach grumbled. He glanced at Lucy’s clock. 9:58 a.m. Two more minutes, and then he could appease the hunger gnawing at his stomach. Lucy had made it quite clear that if he woke her before ten o’clock this morning, he’d be singing soprano and celibate for a month. Minimum.

When the numerals finally changed to 10:00, Natsu leapt off the couch, whooping, “Breakfast!”

“Natsuuuuu, coffee?” Lucy asked from within her cocoon of blankets.

He grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.

Several cups of coffee, one hot pepper and hot sauce laden omelet, and one strawberry-banana smoothie later, Natsu and Lucy made their way to the guild. Lucy chatted about nothing in particular, but overall seemed in a good mood and no longer angry at Natsu for the day before.

The Fates snickered.

Natsu held open the door, and Lucy entered ahead of him.

Seated at the bar, Cana swiveled around on her barstool and called out, “Hey, Juicy Lucy!!”

Hovering in between Lucy and Natsu, Happy pressed his paws to his mouth, though that did nothing to prevent the giggles from spilling out. “Pppfffft! Juicy Lucy…”

“Morning, Juicy!” Wakaba waved at her with his cigar.

Seated next to him was Macao, who lifted his eyebrows suggestively at the celestial mage, remarking, “Lookin’ juicy, Lucy!”

Natsu laughed nervously, edging slowly away from Lucy, whose head was down, her eyes shadowed. He could feel the rage boiling off her. “Scary Lucy” was going to make an appearance, and he had no doubt she was going to put his balls in a vise for the rest of eternity.

Figuring he had nothing left to lose, Natsu did the only thing he could think to do.

Run.

Maybe Jellal will let me join Crime Sorcière…

Tagging: @nalufever @impracticaldemon @miss-zei @hakusaitosan

(Thanks to the aforementioned request-giver for the prompt as well as special thanks to our illustrious and irreplaceable Imp for giving me some quick advice and a once-over for this goofy-assed story)

#fairy tail #fairy tail fanfic #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalufever #ftfanfiction #i don't even know what this is lol