#maybe our humour is just terrible but oh my god i could not breathe

[fearandhatred]

spoilers for the children's book i want my hat back by jon klassen under the cut but this book is genuinely a masterclass in comedy. my friend and i were reading it for fun in the bookstore once and we started crying laughing at this page. literally the most hilarious thing ever crafted

#fearandhatred #maybe our humour is just terrible but oh my god i could not breathe

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: Wanda's boyfriend continues to be an aggravation in your life, causing some distance between you and Wanda

warning/s: none

author's note: i really appreciate the feedback you guys gave in the last part – it’s always motivating to read your reactions/comments 🥰

part one | part two | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

Sorting things out with Wanda made everything return to normal in no time. So much in fact that she decided I was worth inviting to her and her brother's birthday party.

Never in a million years did I expect the most popular girl in our grade to know who I was, let alone invite me to her birthday party, so to say I was surprised was an understatement.

"It's not a big deal if you can't make it," she said when she handed me the invitation in class. "I mean, I'd love it if you could, but yeah, no pressure."

I was in awe, accepting the invite and reading it quickly. It must have been a pretty expensive party if she was giving out special invites, that's for sure.

"You want me to come?" I asked, still unsure whether this was a joke or not.

"Only if you want to," she said quickly, eyes darting around the room and anywhere but at me. "Like I said, you don't have to. It's not a big deal and– I– yeah." She pressed her lips together and stopped rambling, offering me a small smile.

"Thanks," I said quietly, slotting the invite in my notebook. "I'll, er, I'll think about it."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and faced forward, nodding. "Yeah, sure, no rush."

After that awkward conversation, I discovered she'd also invited Y/BF/N, the two of them developing a little friendship the more she'd hung out with me. He didn't mind going, but only wanted to do so if I went.

"I feel like I kinda don't wanna go," I admitted to him after school as we were studying in the library.

"Oh?" He rose an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

I played with the pencil in my hand. "I don't know, it's just– it's gonna be full of all of her other friends. And they don't really like me. Plus, her dick of a boyfriend is gonna be there. I just think she might have invited me to be nice. Like she might have felt like she had to because we sit together, y'know?"

"I think you know that isn't true," he said knowingly. "Maybe, just maybe, she actually wants us there, wants you there, to celebrate her birthday."

I chewed the inside of my mouth, giving it some thought. But the idea of going to Wanda's house party and seeing a bunch of people I didn't care about getting pissed wasn't comforting. Besides, even if I went, I'd probably see Wanda once before she'd get scooped away by Nate. What was the point?

"Nah, I don't think I'm going," I decided. "She won't notice. I'll just get her a present instead."

Y/BF/N sighed, clearly not impressed with my answer. Nonetheless, he said, "Okay, suit yourself."

"You can go if you want," I added, knowing his presence wasn't linked with mine.

"No Y/N, no party," he said with a dismissive shrug, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Such a good friend," I said teasingly, but there was truth to my words. And I knew he knew that. 

When I saw photos and videos of Wanda and Pietro's party all over my social media the day after, I knew I'd made the right choice in not going. It was the same visuals of everyone getting drunk, doing stupid shit and making a mess. Call me a loser, but that wasn't really my scene. Pietro and Wanda both seemed to enjoy it though, judging from the pictures.

Instead, I bought her a birthday present, knowing I didn't have to but I kind of wanted to, and planned to give it to her when she turned up to class. It was her birthday today, despite throwing the party over the weekend, so I hoped it would make up for my absence (thought I doubted she noticed).

She showed up and settled beside me as I was writing the date in my notebook, making me look up to see she'd made an extra effort to dress up for her birthday, looking fancier than usual. I couldn't help but smile at the giant '18' birthday badge pinned to her jacket.

"Happy birthday, Wanda," was the first thing I said when I saw her. "You look amazing."

A bashful smile appeared on her lips. "Thank you, Y/N."

"I hope your party went well," I said, giving her my full attention whilst trying not to drool over how beautiful she looked.

Surprisingly, her smile faded and her eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah, it did... could you not make it? I tried looking for you and– yeah..."

I opened my mouth to speak, admittedly a little embarrassed that she'd caught me out. I was sure she wouldn't notice – the pictures made it seem like there were loads of guests, I'd definitely have blended in if I were there – but clearly I was mistaken.

"I just thought–" she began, before shaking her head. "Never mind."

"Sorry, I thought–" I started, but like her, didn't know what to say. "Parties aren't my thing," I admitted truthfully. "But it looked fun. You enjoyed it, right?"

She nodded, a small forced smile on her lips. "Yeah, right. It's cool. No biggie."

I swallowed awkwardly. It seemed like a biggie and now I felt bad.

"I, er, got you a gift," I blurted, hoping to change the subject. Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out the terribly wrapped present and held it out nervously. "I hope you, er, like it."

Her eyebrows raised as her eyes flickered between the present and I. "Oh? You didn't have to. I wasn't expecting anything."

Was it hot in here or was it just me?

I pulled my collar away from my neck, hoping to circulate some air. "I wanted to. It's not a big deal."

She accepted the gift, fingers brushing mine and making me even more nervous, before opening it up. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she revealed a brand new leather paintbrush carry case.

"The one you always carry around is tattered and falling apart, so I thought I'd get you a new one," I explained, feeling like I had to. "I mean, unless the other one has some sort of sentimental value, then in that case, I can just return this."

"Are you kidding? I love it!" she exclaimed, looking to me with a grin. "It's beautiful, Y/N. I don't even know what else to say."

My shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile tugging at my lips. "Good. Th-that's good. I'm glad you like it."

Without warning, she moved forward off her stool and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I was startled, unable to think straight with her body pressed so close to mine and her floral perfume wafting into my nose. Why did she have to smell so good?

"Thank you," she muttered, pulling away but not quite letting go. Her eyes were glowing as they watched me carefully, accompanying her weak-in-the-knees smile. I was sure I'd melt. "It means a lot."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for fear I'd say something stupid. I resisted the urge to look down at her lips, which were pulled into a small, appreciative smile. She let go of me, looking to the case again and unravelling it. I caught my breath meanwhile, my senses still on override as her perfume lingered.

She was just so damn beautiful.

—

"Okay, how about this – robotic or organic aliens. Which would you rather invade our planet?" Y/BF/N asked.

I chuckled at his question. "Definitely haven't thought about that one, but let's see..."

We were hanging in the bleachers out near the football field as we waited for football practice to end. Y/BF/N had a Film project to do and needed to film the field, so I offered to help like the good friend I was.

"Probably organic," I answered as I balanced on the bleachers, standing up and tiptoeing down them like steps. "At least we could reason with them if they tried to kill us because they'd have a conscience. Robotic aliens would just be programmed to take over and that's it."

Y/BF/N seemed against the idea as he played with his camera. "Yeah, but if they were robotic, all we'd have to do is launch a missile at them and they'd explode. You can break metal. It's harder to break organic matter."

I stifled a laugh. "You've given this much thought, I see."

He gave me a knowing look. "You telling me you don't think aliens exist?"

I stopped tiptoeing and stood still as I looked down at him with humoured eyes. "You know I know aliens exist."

He waved his hand like that was enough reasoning. "There you go then!"

I laughed, wondering how he thought of this stuff, then continued to balance as I walked down the bleachers. Probably the wrong choice as when I heard a voice call me, I looked up, saw it was Wanda, then proceeded to miss a step and fall onto my arse.

"Oh God, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, moving forward to help me.

My face heated up as Y/BF/N laughed his arse off beside me. I accepted Wanda's hand and let her pull me up, before letting go immediately when I could handle it myself. Her presence always made me nervous, but this was just terrible.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said, glancing at her and freezing at her piercing gaze and suppressed smile.

"You sure?" she asked, glancing at Y/BF/N, before trying to hide her own laughter.

Fuck me, why was I such a mess whenever she was around?

"Very sure," I said, though my back began to ache from where I hit it. "What's up, anyway?"

Y/BF/N finally shut up, to my relief, and Wanda minimised her laughter before scratching her head.

"I'm waiting for practice to end so I can take Pietro home," she said, nodding to the field. "I saw you both sat here and thought I'd say hi. Are you guys watching practice?"

"Not really," I answered, before tilting my head to Y/BF/N. "We're just waiting for it to end so Y/BF/N can film for his project."

"Ooh, that sounds interesting," she said, intrigued and looking to him now. "What's that about?"

As he caught her up on it, I found myself checking Wanda out without realising. She was animated as she listened to Y/BF/N talk about his assignment, eyes giving him all of her attention, and a permanent smile was fixed on her lips as she listened to him. Though it wasn't directed at me, I felt butterflies swirling a storm in my stomach and clutched it, hoping they'd go away. I loved and hated the feeling all at once.

Breaking me from my reverie, a football flew past all three of us and hit the bleachers, startling us all. We looked in the direction it came from and saw the football team looking back at us, some laughing and some disgruntled. Two players ran towards us and when they got close enough, I made them out as Pietro and Nate.

Nate was laughing as he looked between us all, before his gaze fell on me. "It's Y/N, right? I feel like I'm always throwing that thing at you. Sorry about that."

But his constant laughing and lack of guilt refuted his words. I merely clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes his way, not that he seemed to care nor notice. I was a mere fly in a world that revolved around him. He'd never notice.

"Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't even know you were over here," he added, looking to Wanda. "You okay?"

Wanda crossed her arms and seemed frustrated. "I'm fine, Nate. Just get your ball."

He shrugged and grabbed his ball. Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to Wanda's cheek which made me wince, but she made no attempt in enjoying it. He didn't seem to care as he took off running back to his team. Pietro smiled apologetically at the three of us.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "He can be such a dick sometimes."

That was the understatement of the century.

With that, he turned and ran back to his team to finish up. Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair, as Y/BF/N and I exchanged glances.

"I should get the car running," she said awkwardly, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and towards the car park. "Good luck with your assignment, Y/BF/N. And I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N."

Waving goodbye with an awkward smile, I watched her leave and wondered the same thing I always did whenever Nate decided to make an appearance in my life.

How could she be dating such a dick?

—

Apart from the birthday party I didn't go to, I'd never been invited (or had a reason to go) to Wanda's house. I'd seen it, rode my bike past it, but never actually been in it. So, when she invited me to her place to work on a project we'd been assigned in class, I was unsure how to feel. She was adamant though and I had no reason to say no, so the only thing left to do was say yes. Even when she offered to drive me there after school.

"This is your car?" I asked with disbelief.

I knew absolutely nothing about cars, but I wasn't blind. Hers was a gorgeous deep red colour with a convertible roof that was currently lowered so anyone in it would feel the sun on their back and wind in their hair.

"Yeah, you like it?" she asked as she got into the driver's seat.

I gulped and sat in the passenger's seat, throwing my backpack at my feet. "It's so nice. You sure you don't mind me drinking in this?"

I had a Pepsi bottle in my hand and was deathly afraid of opening it now in case I spilt it and the cleaning bill would be more than I made in a year at the pizza parlour.

She laughed, already pulling out of the car park. "Of course. Don't be silly."

I glanced in her direction, trying not to get distracted by how good she looked in the driver's seat. She was wearing a red leather jacket, funnily enough, matching the exterior of her car, and she had dark eyeliner around her eyes, accentuating the shape and colour of them and leaving me speechless whenever she looked my way.

"There's CDs in the glove compartment," she was saying as she focused on the road. "Or you can mess around with the radio. It's up to you."

"CDs?" I asked, it piquing my interest. I reached into the glove compartment, adding, "What is this, the 2000s?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, accepting my teasing, as I flicked through the small stack of albums.

"I don't know, I guess I just like having the physical version," she said with a shrug. "It's kind of like a collection."

I chuckled at her need to explain herself, watching the way she rubbed her neck nervously, smiling with embarrassment. Looking back to the albums, a particular one grabbed my attention and I plucked it out with raised brows.

"Oh my God, you like Paramore?" I asked, looking to her with surprise. "Now it's definitely the 2000s."

Her cheeks flushed as she grew flustered. I nudged her in the side gently, getting her attention briefly.

"I'm kidding," I reassured, tilting my head her way playfully. "I actually love Paramore. They're my favourite band."

"Really?" she asked with surprise as I put the CD in her car. I hummed in response, to which she continued, "Have you ever seen them live?"

As For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic played quietly in the background, I nodded my head. "Yeah, once. It was a few years ago, but the tickets were shitty and I could just about make them out on stage in the distance."

Wanda laughed, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "No, that's so sad!"

I chuckled in agreement. "Yeah. It was, but oh well. They have a tour coming up this summer, right? Maybe I can get better tickets this time 'round... what about you? Have you ever seen them live?"

She hummed, making a turn at some traffic lights and chewing her lower lip as she focused on doing so. It was definitely the wrong time, but I found myself admiring how attractive it was, especially when her jaw tensed and her defined jawline was on display.

"Yeah, I saw them a few times," she finally responded, pulling me from my stupor. "Some really good seats, some really shitty ones." She giggled at the end, making me smile. "Maybe we could go to that concert in the summer. If you're up for it?"

This seemed like one of those times where you made plans with a friend that you knew would never happen, so to not cause an awkwardness in the conversation, I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, maybe."

She glanced at me and I mirrored her smile, the flash of excitement in her eyes knocking me breathless.

When we reached her house, I was awestruck at how big it was from the inside. I mean, it looked huge from the outside, but the inside was even better. Her family were rich, I knew that, but this was some other level of rich.

"Here, c'mon, I'll get you a drink, then we can go into the dining room to start," Wanda said, failing to recognise my amazement and instead leading me to the kitchen. "We have tropical juice, apple juice, water, Sprite, Cola... which d'you want?"

I settled at the island, taking a seat and subtly admiring her kitchen. "Er, apple juice is fine with me."

She smiled brightly before pouring me a glass, whilst pouring herself some Sprite. Standing opposite me, we both took a moment to have a drink, but didn't get chance to exchange words as her mum entered the room and noticed me instantly.

"Y/N, it's so lovely to see you again!" she said kindly, patting me on the shoulder before heading to the fridge. "You girls hanging out? Studying?"

"We have a project," Wanda filled in as I nodded in agreement. "We alright to claim the dining room?"

After grabbing some water from the fridge, Wanda's mum pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "Sure thing, sweetie. If you need anything, just let me know." Smiling once more at me, she said, "It's good to see you, Y/N."

"You too," I said with a friendly smile before she left.

"Come on," Wanda said, motioning for me to follow. "We have tons to do."

The next hour and a half was spent with Wanda and I planning out our project, our work sprawled along the dining table messily. We were making progress, until she got a call suddenly. It seemed serious as she gave me an apologetic glance and excused herself. I let her go and leaned back in my seat, wondering what I could do as I waited for her to return. That thought was resolved quite quickly when Pietro popped his head in the doorway and spotted me.

"Y/N! What an honour to welcome you to our humble abode," he exclaimed, entering the room fully. "What brings you here?"

Pietro's presence always brought an amused smile to my lips. "Wanda and I are working on a Chemistry project. She's just nipped out for a phone call."

He tutted dramatically, crossing his arms. "Well, well, well. We can't have that! Wanda needs to learn to entertain her guests. C'mon. I was about to head to the gaming room and could use the company."

I was visibly surprised. "You have a gaming room? Dude, that's awesome!"

He laughed. "C'mon."

Joining Pietro, the two of us headed to this so-called gaming room and I was not disappointed. There was a huge TV with a PlayStation and Nintendo Switch connected to it, a snooker table, a foosball table, a dart board, some old arcade games – it was amazing, any gamer's biggest dream.

"What you feeling, princess?" he said with that flirtatious smile of his.

I rolled my eyes playfully. He was being overtly flirty, more so than his sister was – was it a Maximoff personality trait or something? – and I wasn't sure whether he meant it or was just being his usual self.

"Are you flirting?" I deadpanned, tilting my head curiously. "I can't tell."

He pocketed his hands, swinging back on the heels of his feet. "That depends. Is it working?"

Despite my lack of interest in him like that, I felt my face heat up at the attention. "Pietro, I must tell you that any moves you attempt to make kind of won't work."

"And why's that?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the snooker table with a cheeky smile on his lips. "Am I not your type?"

"Unless you change into a girl, then no," I played along, making him flush with embarrassment. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm gay."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," he mumbled to himself, before sighing and meeting my eyes. "We can still be friends, right? Or is that forbidden since you're already friends with my sister?"

I laughed and approached him. "Friends works. I don't think Wanda will care. I certainly don't."

He grinned. "Awesome! Well, d'you wanna play a round of foosball?"

"Sure," I said with an amused expression. "Bet I can kick your arse."

He pushed himself off the table and feigned surprise. "Oh? Game on, Y/L/N."

I didn't realise how long Wanda had been on the phone until I managed to get through three rounds of foosball and was in the middle of a snooker game with Pietro.

"You may have beat me at foosball, but you're terrible at this," he pointed out with stifled laughter.

I'd missed my third shot and it was more funny than it was embarrassing.

"Your talking distracts me," I said dismissively, before lining up the next shot with my cue.

He watched as I tried to take my shot before sighing loudly. I glanced at him with a quirked brow.

"You have a thought you'd like to share?" I asked playfully.

He hesitated, moving forward to correct my posture. "Look, if you just aim it like this–"

"Don't even think about it, Romeo," I said jokingly, standing up straight and pushing him away gently. "I know what you're thinking."

He laughed. "What? I was just going to help you aim!"

I gave him a knowing look. "So holding me close is just a bonus?"

"Fine, take your shot without my help and see what happens," he said dismissively, waving his hand.

"I'll do just that," I said with confidence, before bending down and taking my shot. The ball hit the other and neither were pocketed, which was an achievement as I'd got the cue ball in several times before, but still pretty shit as I didn't score any points.

Pietro smiled with satisfaction, leaning on his cue. "You happy with that?"

I held in a laugh as I looked to him. "Shut up."

He chuckled before bumping me out the way. "Now for the professional."

Bending down to take his shot, he pulled back his cue before hitting the balls. They rolled around on the table and one ball was about to go in, but I quickly grabbed it before he could get the point.

"Y/N!" he shouted between laughter. "That's cheating!"

"Technically we didn't establish rules," I pointed out, before moving backwards as he tried to grab it from my hand. "What do you say to calling it a draw and playing something else?"

"I say that's a childish way to admit you've lost," he responded, before moving forward quickly. I dodged his attempt and he pursed his lips. "Y/N."

"Pietro."

He smirked. "Seriously?"

I grinned.

He tried to grab it again and ended up chasing me around the room as I avoided giving in. Taking the piss out of Y/BF/N enough times had prepared me for moments like this, so I was able to avoid Pietro long enough to run into whoever walked through the door.

"Shit, Wanda, I'm sorry," I said between laughter, steadying both me and her.

She smiled with confusion, about to speak, but Pietro caught up to me and lifted me up, throwing me onto the couch before I could protest.

"No more cheating," he said sternly, as I lifted my head from the pile of cushions on the couch to look up at him.

"You're an arse," I said, pushing myself up off the couch.

"And you're a sore loser!"

We had a mini staring competition before the two of erupted into laughter.

"You're not half bad, Pietro," I complimented as he helped me up.

"Thank you, princess," he said, the flirtatious smile on his lips again.

I shoved him in the shoulder playfully before looking to Wanda, who was chewing on her lip as she looked between Pietro and I with an unreadable expression.

"So, what prompted you to leave Y/N alone for an hour?" Pietro asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, making me shove him away. He grinned at me before looking to Wanda.

"Nate called," Wanda responded carefully, arms crossed as she continued to look between us. God, I hoped she didn't think Pietro and I liked each other. That would be embarrassing.

Pietro scoffed from beside me, making Wanda sigh with annoyance.

"Don't start, Piet," she said and gave him a look which he seemed to understand.

By the sounds of it, Pietro didn't seem to like Wanda's dick of a boyfriend either. That was strange since wasn't impressing the brother the first part of being in a relationship with someone? And they were on the same football team, so I figured he'd at least tolerate him.

"Are we alright to get back to studying?" Wanda asked, directing her stare to me. The annoyance she held for Pietro was still present in her eyes and I suddenly felt nervous when she looked my way.

"Yeah, of course," I said, before giving Pietro a half-smile. "Rematch at snooker next time. Sound good?"

"Try to keep the balls on the table and we'll see," he teased, before nodding to Wanda. "You should get back to your project before Wanda kills us both with her deadly glare."

I smiled awkwardly, looking back to Wanda as she was indeed glaring at her brother. Clearly there was some sibling rivalry going on here, and I definitely didn't want to get in the middle of it, so I headed to Wanda, signalling I was ready to leave.

The two of us headed back to the dining room in an uncomfortable silence. I felt like I'd done something wrong and she was giving me the silent treatment which was strange. Then I figured it was probably something with Nate that made her annoyed, so didn't question it too much.

We sat back down and I looked at what we'd done so far to try and pick up where we left off, but then she spoke out of the blue, taking me by surprise.

"Do you like my brother?"

It was so abrupt that I took a moment to acknowledge it, blinking. "What?"

"Pietro," she clarified, saying it with such dismissiveness like it wasn't a big deal. Her attention was on the books before us as she continued, "Do you like him?"

I tried not to laugh as I shook my head. "No, Wanda. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. But yeah, no, I don't like him like that."

She chewed her lip, nodding, but I swear I saw a hint of a smile on her lips. I hoped it wasn't the thought of Pietro and I that made her annoyed. I wasn't that bad, was I? I know she cared about her brother and was probably overprotective, but me being his girlfriend couldn't have been that bad, right?

We got back to work in no time, getting a lot done. I didn't realise how late it was getting until Wanda's mum poked her head in, asking if I wanted to stay for dinner.

"Dinner?" I asked, eyebrows raising with surprise. I checked my watch and realised how long I'd been here. "Damn, maybe I should head back."

"Nonsense, you must stay," her mum insisted. "Y/M/N won't mind. A daughter of hers is a daughter of mine."

"You can even sleepover if you want," Wanda offered, and I almost choked on my own spit. "It's getting pretty late."

I shook my head, forcing a small smile so they wouldn't get offended. "Honestly, it's fine. I can head back."

"Please?" Wanda asked with a hopeful expression. "It's the least I can do. I kinda wasted your time for an hour earlier..."

"I should ask my mum," I said, chewing on the inside of my mouth.

"Oh, I'll ring and let her know," Wanda's mum said breezily, before looking to Wanda. "D'you think you can clear your things up? Your brother is gonna set the table."

"Sure, mum." Wanda smiled her way as she left, before looking to me. "I've got clothes and a spare toothbrush you can use tonight."

I smiled awkwardly, nodding. Sleeping over at my crush's house wasn't how I thought I'd be spending my Wednesday evening, yet here we were.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #marvel #mcu

[ijustwant2write]

Bad Boy-John Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @markshade​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi do you think u can do a John Shelby imagine where they are dating and y/n is a good innocent girl but freaky with John and her parents want to Him over for dinner John wants to piss off her dad cause he’s not a fan of the blinders and does subtle things to annoy him like touching y/n at the end of the night when they are saying goodbye at his car they have a heated make out sesh and John knows her dad is looking through the window so spices it up a bit . ❤️’

Characters: John Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Smut from the start (unsafe sex!), dirty talk, swearing, arguing, mentions of violence and death, fluff

(A/N: Amelia and Henry are made up characters)

                                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I clamped my hand over my mouth tightly, struggling to keep in the whimpers and moans as John continuously thrusted into me. However, the boxes I was perched on were full of bottles of beer, causing them to clang against each other.We were in the stock room of the Garrison, luckily having the music, singing and loud chatter drowning out the noise we were creating. John’s hands gripped at the skin around my hips, that cocky smirk on his face that I loved so much. For some reason, an idea popped into my head, and in the state of euphoria I was in just made me say it out loud.

“John...” was all I managed to breath out at first.

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name. Say it again.” he instructed.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

He suddenly stopped, making me realise it wasn’t the best time to bring that up.“You what?”

We were both heavily breathing.“Sorry, I don’t know why I said that just then.”

He scoffed, sighing as he slid out of me.“Well, that’s finished with.”

“I’m sorry! They want to meet you. They know who you are, but they want to try and treat this like they did with my sister.”

“You sure you want that? Remember what you told me when they first found out about us?”

I rolled my eyes, hitching up my stocking as he did up his trousers.“It was their idea, not mine.”

“You don’t want me meeting them?”

“Of course I do, I just-” I caught him trying to hide a laugh, he was winding me up.“You’re such a little shit.”

He stood in between my legs again, hands on my thighs before I could push my skirt down.“Well, if I have been summoned by the Lord (Y/L/N)-”

“Oh my god,” I threw my head back as I laughed in frustration,“would you stop calling him that! I’m the same class as you.”

“What have I always said?”

I shrugged my shoulders, but knew what he was referring to.

“You were always meant to be a fucking princess, Princess (Y/N) of Birmingham.”

I laughed at him.“Oh shut up! Are you coming to dinner or not?”

“If you ask me nicely.”

“And how do I do that?”

“By finishing what we started.”

John and I had been together for a few months now, much to my parents dismay. It had started as a drunk one night stand; we were both at the Garrison, and seemingly chose each other for the night. However, when you’re young, poor and living in Small Heath, there aren’t a lot of places to go out, so me and my friends went to the Garrison all the time. This meant I also saw John again....and again....and again, and again. We slept we each other maybe three more times before wondering if this could become a thing; from there onwards, we found out more about each other, and he brought out a side of me I had been hiding, also wanting to release.

On the day of the dinner, I wanted to see John before he arrived. I lied to my mum, saying we had no bread (which I had hidden away), and practically running out of the house to ‘buy’ some. I told John what time to be at mine, also lying to make him leave earlier so I could meet him halfway. In the bakery, I threw the money onto the counter after picking up a loaf of bread, speedily walking away as I prayed I would run into John. Luck was on my side as I spotted him, already heading in the direction of my home.

“John!” I shouted, the whole street now looking at me as I sprinted past them. 

He whipped around at the noise, hand hovering over where his gun would be. When he saw me, he didn’t relax, wondering why I was yelling his name and running like a mad man.

“I’m so glad I caught you.” I struggled to say, out of breath.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he panicked.

“No, no I’m fine. I’m a terrible runner though.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Bread.” I said, holding up the loaf as evidence.“And also, to see you.”

“I was just leaving.”

“Yes, I can see that. I just wanted to go over some rules.”

“Rules? Oh come on (Y/N)-”

“No, listen to me.” I held up the bread instead of pointing my finger at him.“I love you. I always take your side for everything. We both know my parents don’t like this, but seeing as I am a grown woman, they don’t do anything to stop me. So just for today, we’re going to abide to their rules.”

He rolled his eyes.“Right, so I’ve got to be the uptight prat that your parents want you to be with?”

“They know what you’re like already, and even if they didn’t, they would be able to see through that act. Just let my dad be my dad.”

“If he says something fucking offensive, I’m not going to stay quiet!”

“Fine, then be political about it. Don’t shout at each other, try to make small talk, but no talking about guns, violence, killing-”

“Alright, are you going to go?”

“Sorry. I just want this to be easy. I hate seeing you stressed. I love you.”

He held my hand, starting to walk.“Yeah, yeah. Come on, I’ve got the car parked up in the garage.”

I hated that he hadn’t sent it back, but I understood why he was being like this. I was making him be someone he wasn’t. I loved John as a person, however, I couldn’t be dealing with a screaming match between him and my family.

“John, I do love you.” I said after a few minutes of walking.

“I know. I love you too.” he eventually smiled.“Just want you all to myself now, you know? We wouldn’t have to be dealing with this.”

“Soon darling. We’ll get that house soon enough. Oh, I’ve just remembered something else!”

“Rule number...I’ve lost count, maybe one hundred?”

“No inappropriate stuff. No touching, kissing, being sneaky, nothing!”

“That’s going to be incredibly hard. Especially with that dress.” 

Once we made it to my house, I gave him a quick kiss on the lips before getting out of the car. Opening the front door. I called out to my parents, hearing them reply from the front room. I told John to remove his coat whilst I rushed into the kitchen with the bread, carelessly chucking it on the side before getting back to him. I saw a hint of nerves in his eyes, though his pride covered it. Taking his hand in mine, I guided us to my family, surprised to see who was sitting with them.

“Amelia? What are you doing here? And with Henry?” I asked.

“Well, Henry would happen to be here with me because he’s my husband. I’m sure you remember being at the wedding.” she quipped.

“I don’t remember the boring days of my life. Not worth it.”

“(Y/N).” mum warned.

“Anyway,” I looked up at John,“I would like you to all meet John Shelby. We’ve been seeing each other for quite some time and-”

“We know who he is.” dad sighed, not even bothering to stand from his seat. 

“You’re the ones who invited him over. It would be nice of you to greet him properly.”

Dad stood slowly, making his way towards us, making me think he was getting up to shake John’s hand. Instead he just stopped, not looking either of us in the eye.

“I need a drink.”

He broke us apart by walking through us, mum timidly following. I felt like swearing and screaming. It was their idea. They wanted to meet him but then they were being like this. I sent an apologetic smile to John as we sat down.

“So,” I thought I would try and make conversation,“John, this is my sister Amelia and her husband Henry. She used to live here but she moved away a few years ago.”

“Had to find a better area, you know? Safer for the children we were planning for.” Amelia smugly smiled.

“Such a saint is my sister.”

“It’s like Mary and Joseph.” John chuckled, causing me to laugh.

“Well that would make you Judas and...and whoever he was with then, wouldn’t it?” Amelia desperately tried.

“Nice one Amelia. Don’t think too hard next time, yeah?”

Before she could snap back, mum called us to the dinner table. I realised we would all be squashed around it, seeing as only four people could usually fit there. I made sure John was sat beside me, Amelia and Henry opposite us and my parents at either head of the table. Our knees were almost touching we were that close. Dinner started silent, everyone tucking into the small meal. We were poor, we never had a lot to eat; which was why I was surprised that Amelia was here, there were now three more mouths to feed, not just John. But I knew why she was really here. Amelia had done what our parents wanted, found a good man who could provide her with the bare necessities and keep her out of trouble. They wanted me to reflect on who I was in love with, try to change my mind. Wasn’t going to happen.

“So what is it you actually do?” Henry asked. I was unsure if it was supposed to be malicious or whether he was actually curious.

“Work in the betting shop.” John answered.

“Yeah, but, you know, on the side.”

“Henry, we don’t want to get involved.” Amelia scolded him.

“Just because you’ve graced me with your presence, that doesn’t mean you’re on some sort of hit list.”

“No, but my sister is.”

“Amelia, shut up.” I snapped.

“No, she’s right.” John said, causing me to whip my head round to him. He went against my instructions, placing his hand on my thigh.“But I wouldn’t let anyone hurt my girl. They would be dead before they even thought about it.”

Although I had told him to not talk of such things or stoop to my families level, my heart melted at the (somewhat morbid) statement.

“Am I hearing this right?” mum laughed, but their was no humour behind it.

“Mum, try to not get upset.” Amelia held her hand.

Now it was my turn to laugh.“Oh my god.” Everyone looked at me, John was smirking whilst the others were frowning.“You’re such a hypocrite.”

“What?”

“You were sneaking out all the time, seeing different boys every weekend. What makes you so much better than me?”

“I’m not with a criminal.”

“All of you stop it!” dad exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the table.“And get your fucking hand off my daughter.”

Amelia tutted.“Henry would never-”

“You and Henry were fucking upstairs before dinner when he came round the first time!” I butted in.

“Sounds like a good time to me.” John mumbled under his breath.

“How dare you?!” mum was shocked.

“I knew this was a stupid idea. Get out, now!”

“With pleasure.” John stood, grabbing my hand.

I quickly left with him, grabbing the key off the counter and locking the door behind me. It made me laugh hearing their shouts of protest and banging on the door. We rushed to the car, scared that they would somehow break down the door. John leaned me back against it, hands sliding down the side of my body and gripping my arse. He knew what he was doing, especially since my family now had their faces pressed against the window.

“Well, that was...quick.” I giggled.

“Yeah, you’re not used to that.” John joked.

“You have to make it all about sex, don’t you?”

“(Y/N), I don’t give a fuck about what they think, and neither do you. As soon as I get this bit of business sorted with Tom and Arthur, I’m buying that house and you are moving in with me. Then we’ll get married straight away-”

“I hope this isn’t your proposal.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got something big planned for that.”

He leaned down to kiss me, gripping onto my arse firmly. As he deepened the kiss, adding tongues, he forced his knee between my legs, and I subconsciously started rubbing against it, only subtly. I made sure he stayed close by pulling him in by his coat. The neighbours would surely be watching, it was a small street, which would drive my parents insane. This only fuelled something in me, and I wanted to keep going. 

“I suggest we take this somewhere more private. Like, right now.” John breathlessly said.

I frantically nodded, and we both headed for opposite sides of the car, until I saw I still had the key in my hand. Hurriedly making my way back to the door, I ignored my family who had now managed to open the windows, screaming at me as I posted the key through the letter box. Running as fast as I could back to the car, I felt the adrenaline rush through me, giggling like a maniac at the thought of my parents catching me. Slamming the door shut as I jumped in the car, John floored it, and we looked like we escaped from an insane asylum as we laughed.

I stuck my head out of the car and screamed,“I fucking love you John Shelby!”

He pulled me back in by my dress, squeezing my thigh once I sat down.“I love you too, you fucking maniac.”

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed back there, you know.”

“Good thing you’re staying with me then.”

“You sure you’re ready for all of this?”

“I’ve been ready since I laid eyes on your face...and those tits, and that arse-”

“You make it seem like you’re only in it for my body.”

“Nah, that’s the ultimate bonus though. I already said it, but once you’re with me, I protect you and love you. You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine. Make sure to do your coat up before you get out the car, it’s a bit obvious down there.”

#john shelby #john shelby imagine #john shelby imagines #john shelby x reader #john shelby one shot #john shelby fanfiction #john shelby fan fiction #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fan fic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders x reader

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Crashing | Jurdan Fake Hating One Shot

Written for: @poeticbrownmermaid​ for my 1k celebration!

Massive thank you to: @clockworkgraystairs​ and @sweetlyvillainous​ for beta reading this and holding my hand before I posted 🥺❤️

Summary: You’ve heard of fake dating. Get ready for fake hating. It’s all very romantic.

Rating: M/E for explicit language and a short, soft focus smut scene (a steam scene, if you will). The sexy parts start and stop after the ☽☽ in case you want to skip.

Masterlist

“You taste—” I’m cut off by my own giggle, which rises to my lips like my mouth is a glass and my laugh is the Champagne they’re serving at this dumb party. “You taste like bubblegum.”

Cardan looks at me funny, then snorts. “What?”

His eyes are beguiling when they’re amused. Even more beguiling when they’re amused and looking at me. They are dark intoxication. They compete against the night sky for vastness. I could swallow them whole.

We’re on the terrace under the stars outside his fancy-pants mansion. I’m sitting on the stone railing, my knees bracketing his lithe frame. His hands and lips are breathless effervescence on me.

I’m in a daring dress of red satin that I would’ve never chosen for myself had Oriana not insisted on finding us girls a tailor. It’s an elegant, backless number with an audacious slit up the side. The whole time before this in the ballroom, I could sense Cardan’s eyes eating it up while he pretended to hate me.

In this dress, I am a femme fatale spy from a film, meeting her tryst in the secret of shadows. Which is honestly not too far off from the reality of the situation, though I am no spy.

Cardan ghosts one hand up the exposed skin of my thigh. The night air is bracing as his touch.

“Jude,” he murmurs, “Are you drunk?”

He’s in a rakish black velvet suit with two blood-red rubies dangling from the pointed tips of his collar. It is decadence and sin given form. The first hour of this hell party was just that: Hell. By the time Cardan pressed a napkin into my palm with the words “Terrace. 10 min.” scrawled on it in smeared ink, I was beginning to glare at him in earnest—if only for the way he must’ve known he was teasing me.

Now, we’re making out behind two conveniently tall potted plants.

It’s all very romantic.

“I had one glass of wine, Cardan,” I say. I slide my hands from his hair and scrape my nails lightly down the column of his neck. It is heady, watching his eyes shutter. My hands slide down his chest and take up his lapels. I give them a firm tug. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I,” he says, lips hovering over my own, “Don’t believe you.” His breath fans across my face. It really does smell like bubblegum. And not the minty kind, either. I’m talking bright pink and bubblicious.

I lean back a little and stick my bottom lip out in a mock-pout. “Why not?”

“For starters,” he says, “You’re a lightweight.” He trails that damned hand down my exposed thigh again.

I shiver. “So? I also ate like twenty of those canopy things.”

“Canapés?” Cardan smirks.

“Yeah, whatever, Your Highness.”

He flashes me a grin and I’m briefly stricken into silence. “Then, what have you to say to your unprecedented giddiness this evening, Your Majesty?”

“Ew, don’t call me that.” I grimace. “I just called you ‘Your Highness’.”

“What? Scared of the implication?”

“Uh, yeah.” My brows shoot up on my forehead. “Mainly because it implies that I’m your mother.”

Cardan’s face goes slack. “Shit, really?”

I nod and bite back my grin.

“I thought they were interchangeable.”

“About as interchangeable as a fork and a spoon.”

He sputters a laugh. “Shows what I know about royalty.”

“You realise how ironic that is, don’t you?” I say, nodding pointedly in the direction of the party.

It goes on without us, spilling its mirth in great golden shafts out onto the terrace. It doesn’t touch us, though. The air is cool, clear of the preening bullshit that so regularly lathers these kinds of events. And though he makes me dizzy, Cardan is the only real thing here.

I think I like parties better this way. From the shadows. In there, we’d have to talk to people, explain ourselves. We’re supposed to hate each other. We were always supposed to hate each other.

A smile plays at the corners of Cardan’s lips as if he’s gleaned these thoughts of mine. “You haven’t answered my question.”

I narrow my eyes. “You think I’m too giddy to not be drunk.”

“Mhmm.” He nudges his nose against mine. “I’ve never heard you giggle before.” A slender finger tracks up my spine and it takes a considerable amount of concentration not to squeeze my thighs together. Goosebumps and a flush spring to my skin, anyway. “It’s delightful,” he tells me.

“Well, maybe you should work on your sense of humour.” My voice comes out shakier than I want it to.

“Maybe,” Cardan says, grabbing the back of my knee and hitching it up. “But that sounds like effort.”

I want to roll my eyes. This is exactly the reason we used to hate each other. His laziness, his arrogance, and entitlement made me want to punch him clean across his pretty cheekbones. I know my stubbornness and sharp tongue made him hate me right back.

Yet, when our worlds crumbled around us, we found ourselves crashing into each other. Entwined in a thicket of mutual understanding. Suddenly, there was so very little to hate.

We pretend to in public to keep up appearances. Everyone knows we hated each other. If we started being friendly around everyone else, people would talk. That’s the last thing we want. Even if they’d technically be right.

In private, though, Cardan is probably my most closely held secret.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still annoying as all hell. Like right now. But I’ve always liked a challenge.

I hook my leg around his back, pulling him in. My fingers card through his hair again. “I can be delightful in other ways,” I say, biting my lip.

His eyes lower to my mouth. “Oh, I’m well aware.” Cardan’s voice comes out a rasp. He cants my chin with the crook of his finger, pulling my lip from between my teeth with the pad of his thumb. He looks at me with undiluted lust. The weight of his gaze is like a dizzying nightmare.

Then, he devours me.

Our mouths slide together, slowly at first, but building in fervor. Hot and heavy, like a fever. His grip on my thigh is bruising. His other hand splays across my bare back, crushing me to him, long fingers twining in my hair. Everything turns saturated and slow.

I invade his mouth with my tongue, determined to drink him up. He tastes like bubblegum and our reconciliation. At the same time, I hook my other leg behind him so he’s pressed flush against the apex of my thighs. ☽☽

A muffled groan rolls between his teeth. “Fuck, Jude.” Cardan is growing firm beneath his trousers. The feel of it sends a curl of sweet desire, dark and throbbing, through my core.

“You’re going to have to be quieter than that,” I tease. I’m so featherbrained on the savour of his mouth, his liquid touch. My veins feel full of amber liquor instead of blood. I know I’m not drunk, and yet I feel it.

His fingers drawl back up my leg. “The question is, dear,” he says, “Can you be quiet?” The coolness of his hands sends a shock along the heat of my inner thigh.

I realise where he’s going with this and my breath hitches. My cheeks blaze. “Yes,” I tell him, though I don’t sound as confident as I should for such a high stakes rendezvous.

“Hmm,” Cardan thrums. “We’ll see about that.”

His fingers are deft and twice as sly. He hisses through his teeth when they glide over me, exploring.

As a steady rain, he begins my unravelling. His mouth covers mine, swallowing a soft whimper that escapes my throat. I want to moan his name, to curse aloud, but I can’t if we’re to stay hidden.

The thought is both terrible and exciting at once.

Cardan keeps a torturous pace. I cling to him, panting, clutching at his arms, clawing at his back. His mouth roams my jawline. His teeth tug my ear. My mind is frenetic, frenzied, and at once thick in a viscous haze.

All I can think about is how this party is so stupid and soul-sucking, but Cardan is the farthest thing from stupid and soul-sucking. About how he makes me feel very much alive. About how I like him more than anyone here, probably more than even myself.

His other arm wraps certain and solid around me as he spins my world on its side. I lean my forehead on his shoulder. He kisses my neck. I can’t help the gasps that leave me.

My heart is racing. So quickly does it pump, in time with his ministrations, I think I might turn to white lightning in a bottle before all is said and done.

I know it when I’m drawing towards that precipice. My toes curl and flex. My legs begin to quiver. My knees lock up.

“Cardan,” I gasp. “Please.”

“Can you be quiet for me, Jude?” Cardan murmurs rough against my ear. He sounds a little breathless, too.

I am so muddled, I am so close. I can only manage a soft sob in response. Now he’s doubling his efforts and oh, gods is he clever.

I bite his shoulder to keep from making a sound as I shoot over the edge, a wondrous arc so high I’m sure I scrape the stars of their dust.

My hips writhe against his palm. I pull and rake my fingers through his hair as I spiral through the five stages of sweet delirium.

He holds me through it. Presses his lips to my hair and whispers what I think must be comforting things into my ear. I can’t tell because I’m incapable of comprehending much of anything beyond myself in his arms. He strokes soft circles over my back until it’s done. ☽☽

When everything settles, I’m still clinging to him, my forehead against the sureness of his shoulder. A sheen of sweat dewing my skin.

I’ve always hated this part about intimacy. The aftermath. Everything is too quiet. The excitement is gone. You’re faced with the reality of looking at each other without the rosy filter of lust. Maybe you’ll see each other for who you really are, and that’s a scary thought.

That’s probably how I felt once with Cardan, too. Back when we started…whatever this is. But now, in this moment with him, it feels less vulnerable and more like holding someone’s hand as you stare upon something a little terrifying.

Which is why I’m able to look up at him and ask in every manner of seriousness, “Why do you taste like bubblegum?”

His responding laugh is gentle and he shakes his head. “One-track mind,” he says. I shrug and wait.

“They’re serving bubblegum cocktails at the bar inside.”

My nose crinkles. “You actually drank one of those?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“No, I think I’ll sleep quite soundly if I never do.”

Cardan gives me an awful kind of grin that makes my toes curl anew. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” he says, then tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “I happen to like bubblegum cocktails.”

I give him a dubious look. I can’t help but feel that maybe we’re not talking about bubblegum cocktails anymore.

For a long moment, we just sit there staring at each other. There’s a bloom of laughter from inside the house. The clink of glasses. His eyes trace the lines of my face. I still feel drunk on him and he’s looking at me too soberly.

So I say, “You have shit taste, then,” and hop off the railing. I side-step him before beginning the task of smoothing down my dress. If I walk back into the party all flushed and disheveled, people will know what I’ve been doing—which is almost as bad as if people knew who I’ve been doing.

“Oh, you can’t say that dear,” Cardan lilts as he leans back against the balcony with all the insouciance of someone who lives in this ridiculous mansion. And rightly so, because he does. “Not when you taste equally delicious.” Then he brings his fingers, the ones that have just been inside me, to his mouth and closes his lips around them, burning gaze locked on mine.

My eyes go wide. My jaw slacks as I watch him. I’m somewhere between affronted by his audacity and completely turned on again. Which is a confusing place to be.

He laughs at my probably very foolish expression and I turn on my heel to head back to the party. I’m not actually offended. I just can’t bear to look at him while he’s tasting me off his fingers without combusting on the spot.

Cardan grabs my wrist. “Wait, wait,” he says, still laughing.

I arc a brow and turn to face him. “I’m waiting.”

“I’m sorry,” he says and sounds earnest enough. “It’s just… you make me giddy, too.”

His words are a punch to the gut. I hadn’t realised it until he said it, but it’s true. It’s not the way he kisses me or the high of a climax, though those are surely nice things, too. It’s the way I feel when we’re together. Just his presence makes my head swim, my stomach turn flips.

He makes me feel a little bit invincible, and entirely beyond reason.

I look at him, the warm glow of the party playing off the sharp angles of his face. He’s still holding my hand, fiddling with the ruby ring I always wear.

On the crest of a breath, Cardan says, “Stay tonight.”

“Why?” I whisper, because we’ve never spent the night. I’m not sure we’d even know how.

“Because I’ll miss you terribly?”

A smile tugs at my lips. “I think you’ll survive.”

“Because you’ll miss me terribly.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely survive,” I say. Even as my heart gives a squeeze. I don’t want to leave.

Not yet, not yet.

“Because you’re too intoxicated to drive home,” he says.

“I took an Uber here, Cardan,” I tell him. “And for the last time, I’m not drunk.”

“I’m not saying you’re drunk, Jude.”

He’s not grinning at me, which I think is a good sign. It means he’s not hinting at something sexual. Then again, that might also be a very bad sign. It means he’s hinting at something deeper. I’m not sure I want to get into that conversation just yet.

“Fine,” I say. I do want to stay. The thought of it sends a little thrill through me. “Hate me for an hour more. We’ll have a big argument about… something. And then I’ll tell Madoc I’m leaving.”

His hands snake around my waist. “What will we argue about tonight?”

I smile at him sweetly. “If your head is half as cunning as your fingers, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Cardan hums. “I do love it when we’re at each other’s throats.”

I roll my eyes but I’m betrayed by my laugh for not the first time tonight. Stupid punch-drunk feelings.

☽☽☽☽☽

Enjoyed this? Try:  King  |  Wicked Game  |  We’re All Mad Here

Masterlist

AN: So this was supposed to be a drabble for my 1k celebration but my hand slipped and whoops! It’s 2.5K words. I really hope you enjoyed this secret tryst one shot. I had so much fun writing it. If you liked this and want to see more from me, comments and/or reblogs are very much appreciated!

I have a tag list so if you’d like to be added to that, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you! I also recently jumped on the Twitter/Instagram bandwagon. You can follow me @/rebelwriter23 on Twitter and @/slightlyrebelliouswriter23 on Instagram.

Back to the forest now. -Em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Crashing- Illenium

Tag List: @velarhysismine​ @knifewifejude​ @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @thesirenwashere​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ @whocares-idont​ @babycardan @sweetlyvillainous​ @aesthetics-11​ @storiesandschemes​ @jurdanhell​ @poeticbrownmermaid​ @thechainofiron​ @random-llama-socks​ @villanellevi​ @lady-thea-of-narnia​ @b00kworm​ @flowersinvegas​ @vanessa172003​ @cardanstrickytail​ @queen-of-glass​ @doingmyrainbow​ @words-of-the-wise​ @scarznstars​ @charincharge​ @fizziefaerie​ @fateandluminary​ @tessas-herondales​ @styles-taylor​ @jyoti96​ @losssssstttttt​ @transbordeamento​ @katsemkitgostadetog @gloriouspalacebakerylawyer​ @woodsbeyond1​ @hizqueen4life​ @highqueenjudeduarte​ @m-like-magic1-blog​ @dorkzrul​ @whataboutmyfries​ @livelovereading123​ @queenofgreenbriar​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @lifeminuspickles​ @df3ndyr​ @christalpaez @aknymph​ @iammissstark​ @disco-tits1​ @star-flecked-soul​

#tfota #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota fic #jurdan fic #tcp #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #twk #qon #tqon #holly black #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte x cardan greenbriar

[emiefaunwrites]

Cause we are horrible people would you be able to write a close call for Leon? It's OK if you need time to think of it!

Hey anon!

A part of me was waiting for this ask and so I've been thinking about what things happen. And as your ask came through...well, by jove I got one!

So yes, anon. I will indugle in a little meanness and give you a close call for Leon. Trigger warnings for accidents and injury underneath so please don't read if that upsets you.

Thanks for the ask! Hope you enjoyyyy!

*********************

• Leon is a major clutz.

• He's constantly knocking things over, tripping over his own feet and has absolutely terrible balance (which is a big surprise considering the one-legged contortions he twists into when pitching!)

• But that doesn't stop him enjoying life!

• He won't let his clutzy tendencies stop him from doing the things he enjoys, even if it has resulted in some majorly embarrassing scenarios.

• So he's learnt to brush things off with humour.

• He knocks something over? 'Looks better that way anyway.'

• He trips over something? 'Shouldn't have been having a nap where I was walking!'

• He loses his balance? 'Practicing my dance moves.'

• He always has a witty response for whatever happens.

• But one day, his clutziness nearly costs him dearly.

• He and Kei are practicing baseball techniques in the garden while Taka's out one day.

• He's taught her how to swing and though she doesn't have his strength, the girl hits hard.

• He's had to climb into bushes, run into the neighbours gardens, even had to run across the street to get the ball.

• And this time, it's landed on the roof.

• Now Leon's been banned from ladders ever since he wobbled one year while putting the Christmas Tree up.

• But Taka won't be back for another hour, and Kei's really seeming to be into this today.

• What other way will he get the ball down?

• 'Okay, sweet pea. Stay there alright? Daddy'll get the ball down.'

• He heads into the garage to grab the ladder that Mondo left behind when he was helping clear out the gutters a few months back.

• Looking back up to where the ball has landed, it's in the most awkward groove ever and won't be easy to reach.

• And now he's looking up, he realises how high a two-storey building is and his stomach turns.

• Maybe he should wait. Taka will be back soon and he's fine with heights and ladders and...

• 'Fank you, Daddy!'

• Ahhhh, he can't let his little girl down! And with a steely determination, he lines the ladder up and starts to climb.

• 'Just don't look down. Don't look down.'

• Slowly and steadily, he makes his way up the ladder and when he reaches the top, he needs to take a few deep, grounding breaths.

• Goddamn it, it's REALLY not going to be easy to get!

• Reaching out, he can't quite make it and so has to lean out quite procariously.

• His fingers brush against the ball, nearly there, nearly there...

• And then it pops out of the guttering and drops onto the ground.

• With a relieved sigh, Leon goes to move back to grab the ladder...

• But Leon Kuwata has terrible balance.

• Taka's at work, giving a presentation to an important group of people when his phone rings.

• Apologising profusely, he goes to look and see its the house phone.

• Odd. Leon normally calls on his mobile.

• Something compels him to answer the phone, beginning to scold his husband for interrupting him at work...

• 'P-papa?'

• Kei? Why is SHE calling? And why is she crying?

• 'What's the matter, darling? Where's Daddy?'

• 'D-daddy f-f-fell. He n-no wake u-up.'

• Oh my god oh my god oh my god WHAT'S HAPPENED?

• 'Tell me what happened, Kei.'

• 'I h-hit ball on r-r-roof and Daddy g-get. He f-f-fall down and...and h-hit his h-head. There's r-r-red paint e-e-everwhere and D-D-Daddy no w-wake u-up.'

• No no no no no what was Leon THINKING?! And now he's...he's...

• No. He can't panic. He needs to get home...

• No that'll be too late. Who knows how long Leon's been out for. He has to get to the hospital and...

• 'Kei, remember what Papa taught you? What you do if you ever get in trouble?'

• 'Y-y-yeah...'

• 'I need you to do that okay, darling? I need you to do exactly what I taught you and tell the nice man or lady what happened.'

• 'O-okay.'

• 'Good girl. Do it now, okay? Papa'll see you soon.'

• He gives no apologies as he flies out of the room, shouting at the receptionist to call Mondo and send him straight to the house.

• He isn't one for speeding but Taka definitely drives faster than normal, heading to the nearest hospital to wait for them to arrive.

• He's there twenty mintues before he sees the doctors wheeling Leon through, Mondo and Kei following behind.

• The wait during the surgery is agony - Taka having to distract himself by asking the nurses if he can borrow a shower to clean the blood out of his daughter's hair.

• Poor Kei is terrified, not saying a word as her Papa cleans her up and changes her clothes, holding onto him for dear life as they go back to the waiting room.

• And eventually, the surgeon comes out to explain there was a fracture in Leon's skull that resulted in a lot of swelling - but the surgery was a success and he'll be alright.

• Taka's allowed to go see him when he wakes up, asking Mondo to look after Kei for a little bit.

• And as he walks in to see his groggy husband blinking at him from one of the beds, head in a bandage, Taka finally loses it.

• 'YOU IDIOT! I TOLD you not to climb ladders! Why don't you ever LISTEN?! D'you know how frightened I was?! How frightened KEI was?! What the HELL were you thinking?!'

• Leon's too groggy to respond, face scrunched up as he tries to focus through the many drugs he's on for the pain.

• 'You could have DIED, Leon! You could have died RIGHT THERE! Right in front of our little girl! How could you be so STUPID?! How could you...how...how...'

• All at once Taka's rage ebbs away at the guilty look on his husband's face, replaced with sobs as he drops to his knees at the bedside.

• 'I could have lost you! You could have...oh God, Leon, I can't lose you! I can't...I can't...'

• Leon can't do too much, still very much out of it, but he can see how much his husband is hurting. And its all his fault.

• So with a grunt, he lifts a heavy arm to brush away the tears, cups Taka's face and says:

• 'Can't have hurt...as much as...when you...fell from...heaven.'

• The comment catches Taka completely on guard, the small strained smile on Leon's lips like a breath of fresh air.

• He can't help but laugh, relief making him dizzy as he clasps Leon's fingers in his own.

#kiyotaka ishimaru #leon kuwata #ishileon #kei kuwata #mondo oowada #ask request #anon ask #tw: accident #tw: injury

[clairecrive]

“All the time in the world”- Bob Saginowski x reader

I’m honestly so happy with the response of the Bronson piece! I love you guys so much <3 so here’s a little Bob fluff that never hurts. Also, this is my first time writing him so if he sounds a little bit off that’s why. 

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @of-love-and-of-the-sea​, @evelynshelby​, @deaflikehawkeye​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @fandom--0verdose​, @sopxhiea​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @fuseburner​ (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

You did it. You finally had sex with him. You had only been going out for a while, a couple of weeks, maybe a month. However, you had known Bob for way longer. You were a regular at his bar, either with your groups of friends or by yourself. That would be the case in which you had met Bob, well you actually had talked to him. When you were tipsy, you tended to marvel about the stupidest things out loud. Bob thought you were amusing and decided to humour you. That had led to a really long talk and long walk home since you were drunk and he refused to let you go home alone. Then one night when you were there on your own, he told you that his shift had ended early and asked if you wanted to grab a bite with him.

From that moment you began unofficially dating. You would see each other every other day and not only at the bar where he worked. Then after the third date, before you could climb off his pick up, he kissed you sealing the deal. Seems like you were dating then. 

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t like him. Well, of course you did, otherwise, you wouldn’t be dating him. However, your feelings were shifting from “like” to something more. And that bothered you to no end. You didn’t get attached to boys. Especially those who you had been seeing for less than a month. Nothing good ever comes from that. You were a pro at hiding your feelings. Been doing it for so long that you felt now unable to suppress these feelings any longer. 

That was going to be a problem.

 It was way too soon to feel like you did and even sooner to let him know. But you couldn’t go on this way anymore. Seemed like the sex only brought it up and made it impossible for you to ignore. You were laying down next to him, Bob had dozed off and your mind had gone wild. Suddenly, it was all becoming too much for you and you felt like you needed to leave. Without giving it a second thought, you began to pick up your clothes and got dressed quickly. 

When you were about to leave his room, something made you stop and look at him. Sprawled over the sheets half-naked, his face restful and peaceful, he looked so innocent. Bob had always been good to you and this was how you were going to repay him? By acting like one of those assholes in those rom coms that you hated? You couldn’t leave like this and you knew it. You owed him at least to tell him something. So, before leaving, you looked for a pen and a piece of paper and left him a note. 

“I need to sort myself out and think things through. Last night was amazing though. Don’t take this personally because you have done nothing wrong.”

Those were the words that met Bob when he opened his eyes. Waking up to an empty and cold bed wasn’t what he was expecting and your words left him even more dumbfounded. Despite what you said, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done something wrong. Furrowing his eyebrows, he quickly went through your time spent together. He was totally clueless though because he genuinely thought that everything was going great between you. Apparently, he had been blind because they were not. He wondered if he needed to give you some space but thought against it. The only way to solve this was by talking things through. Even if it meant breaking up. So he got dressed quickly and headed over your house. After climbing the stairs of your patio, he was about to ring the bell when your voice met his ears. It came from the back of the house. Walking towards it, he stopped just before he came into view when he overheard something interesting.

“So you left him in bed, after your first time together, because you’re afraid?” Your friend's Nadia incredulous voice met his ears.

“I know, I know, I’m a terrible person.” You groaned but your voice came out muffled and peeking from his hideout, he saw that you hid it in your palms.

“I’m sorry but I don’t understand, what are you afraid of?”

“Haven’t you heard a word I said?” Now it was you who was incredulous. It seemed like you two had been talking for a while.

“I did but it’s all bullshit it you ask me.” Nadia sassed earning a glare from you.

“I can’t tell him how I feel Nadia, I’ll scare him away.” you sighed sounding defeated.

“Well, I think you’ve already accomplished that by running away after sex,” she pointed out and when she received your you’re not helping look, she continued, “you should talk to him y/n, really. It’ll solve everything.”

“I know, I know that communication is the key to every healthy relationship but I… I just can’t.” Shaking your head you let it hang from the backrest of the swing you were sitting on.

“Talking to him means that I need to explain why I left and that would lead to my feelings for him, which he can’t know about yet,” you continued sighing, eyes looking up to the sky.

“You had no problem talking about it with me,” Nadia pointed out scrolling her shoulders.

“Are you dumb? That’s different,” you retorted snapping your head in her direction, “if I tell him that I think I love him, he’ll run away!” exclaiming, your expression resembled one of those teachers after they had repeated the same thing for the hundredth time and their students still weren’t grasping it. “It’s been three weeks Nadia, it’s way too soon for the “L” word,” defeated your head went back on the backrest. “Besides, who’s to say that he’s even looking for a serious relationship? He’s really busy with work, he has a lot on his plate right now.” You didn’t believe that. Bob could hear it in your tone and so could Nadia. Both knew you very well.

“Bob doesn’t strike me as someone who’s seeking a one night stand or something temporary.” And in fact, he wasn't. Everyone who knew him was aware of that. It was as plain as day even for Nadia that didn’t know Bob that well.

“Maybe I should just put both of us out of our misery and break up with him,” was your totally unrelated consideration. 

“Are you out of your mind? God, what does your mind tell you? You’re in love with the guy and you want to break up with him?” Bob shook his head at your total illogical thought process while Nadia looked completely confused by you. She was having none of it, what the hell.

“This is not what I signed for when we started dating, Nadia. This got way too serious way too fast,” looking at her you defended yourself. “Look at me! I’m here worrying about a guy when I promised myself I never was going to again.”

“Bob’s not the problem here. For all we know, he could be in love with you too and be heartbroken that you run away-” Nadia wasn’t able to finish her sentence.

“Please,” you scoffed, “have you met me? Why would he love me? And stop saying that I’ve run away, I’ve left him a note,” huffing out annoyed at your friend, both of them knew that they were getting closer to the true motive of your actions.

“-what I think it’s the problem here is you and your inability to let yourself go and feel your emotions instead of repressing them,” now it was her time to interrupt you.

“I hate that you know me so well,” you whisper under your breath, “I just- I don’t want to put myself in that vulnerable position again where he can hurt me.” And here it is, thought Bob. This was the problem then.

“Everyone’s bound to get hurt once in a while y/n, that’s life. And you ought to live it to the fullest and not repress every feeling and avoid any deep connection. You’re missing out on a lot, plus, it’s not healthy,” Nadia observed with wisdom that Bob would have never associated with her. But she had a point.

“If you think that it’s too soon to confess your feelings for him then don’t. Show him instead,” she added when you didn’t say anything.

“I’ve been doing that for the past week. Smothering him with kisses and affection, romantic dinners and shit that I’ve always despised in movies. I went over his bar often and stuff. He probably thinks I’m clingy now and he’s fed up with me,” you confessed listing with the help of your fingers.

“Sounds to me you just stopped being distant and started being a loving girlfriend,” Nadia commented with a patronizing smile. “Oh, and he probably already knows too. He’s very attentive and he knows you so…” Scrolling her shoulders she stated what she thought was pretty obvious while she observed your face scrunch up in desperation.

“It’s only been three weeks goddammit, why am I feeling this way?”

“Time is relative y/n. Stop worrying about it too much. Couples have married after two weeks of dating.” Nadia pointed out thinking to help her case but she got the opposite reaction from you.

“That’s madness,” you spat with wide eyes. 

The two girls continued talking but Bob had heard enough. As Nadia said, he had noticed the change in behavior and despite what you thought, he had thoroughly enjoyed it. But he had also been wondering what had caused it. Now he knew. Deciding to pick up Nadia’s advice, he turned around and headed back home. He knew how to solve this. He was just going to show you.

At home, Bob prepared a nice dinner. Nothing too complicated but he knew you liked it. He wasn’t good with words and apparently neither were you when it came to your feelings. So he needed to find another way. And he thought that paying attention to the details in a way that showed how much he cared, was the right one.

Show, don’t tell.

That was what he was going to do. Since the very first time you two had eaten together, you had always been very passionate about food. Bob was a much better bartender than he was a cook, hence his occupation, but he tried anyway to deliver a delicious meal. Your favourite nonetheless. From what he’d gathered, it was best for him to take matters into his own hands. Otherwise, if he had to wait for you, he’d probably wait a long time. So he sent you a text, mentioning the homemade diner he asked if you would join him. As he predicted, you’d said yes. You’d never turn down an invitation where food was involved. That alone showed how much Bod knew you. Surely, he wouldn’t pay so much attention to someone he didn’t care about, right? He thought your reservations were fair. He understood where you were coming from. On the other hand, he thought it was very clear his stand on relationships, yours in particular. Apparently not. He was to rectify that soon though.

When dinner time came around, you parked in front of Bob’s house right on time. He had probably heard you pull up because when you walked to his door you saw that it was open and Rocco was waiting for you on the threshold.

“Hello, you handsome boy,” you cooed at his cute little face giving him some well-deserved belly rubs until you noticed that he was holding something in his mouth. Gently pulling it out of his mouth, you saw that it was a folded piece of paper. 

It said:

“Please don’t run away like that again. If you don’t talk to me then how is this going to work?”

As you let the words sink in, your eyes flickered to Rocco who was now looking at you with his head tilted to the side. The pang of guilt was impossible to avoid and you knew that this dinner wasn’t going to be like any other. 

Closing the door behind you, you made your way through the hallway that leads to the kitchen expecting to find Bob dealing with your food. And there he was.

The table was already set, two sweet-scented candles were lit and he had just set your plates down when you walked into the room. You lingered near the door for a bit, not knowing what mood he was going to be in. You had left after having sex with him after all.  Still drying his hands with a cloth, he turned to where you were standing and as if he felt your insecurity, Bob gave you a small smile. 

Feeling a little more confident in yourself you crossed the room to meet him before you’d sit down at the table. 

“Hi,” you started shyly.

“Hi, babe,” two words and he managed to make you swoon. Oh, how you loved this man.

“I’m so so sorry for this morning, I-” he didn’t let you continue and you were secretly grateful for it ‘cause you would have probably made a mess.

“I know,” he reassured you holding you gently by the waist.

“You know?” How could he possibly know?

“I get that you have reservations when it comes to relationships, I do too,” he shared putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You do?” If you weren’t so damn confused by what was going on, you were sure you’d have punched yourself for being so stupid.

“Of course. I have been alone for a long time. Being in a relationship after a while can be difficult.” Gently cradling your face in his hands, he added, “But I want you to know that you can always talk to me.”

“I’m scared that what I’m going to say to you will make you run away from me. And I kinda like you so I don’t want that to happen,” you confessed quietly. He was so close to you now that you could whisper and he would hear. Somehow it made it easier to talk.

“I won’t,” he promised and you believed him. Why? Good question, it’s just one of those things that you just know. 

“I just-,” how were you going to tell him? “my feelings for you scare me,” by just saying it, you figured.

“You don’t have to tell me anything right now. Just know that we can turn that fear into assurance. I and Rocco are always up for some cuddles, aren’t we buddy?” And as if on cue, Rocco barked agreeing with his favourite human. You couldn’t help but giggle in happiness, you were really a lucky gal.

“Now let’s go eat. The food is getting cold.” And with that both your minds were at ease, ready to enjoy the night together. Yes, there were some things that needed to be discussed still but you had all the time in the world for that. It seemed that neither you not Bob had any intention to leave.

#bob saginowski x reader #bob saginowski #bob saginowski imagine #bob saginowski fluff #bob saginowski angst #the drop #bob saginowski one shot #tom hardy imagines #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

[ineloqueent]

the whole of the moon

Platonic!Queen x Reader

cannot remember where this gif is from. if it’s yours, drop me a line!

synopsis: a late-night shopping trip goes awry...

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy birthday, dearest vi ( @doing-albri​ )!! i hope you have a wonderful day, because you deserve it. i’m sorry this is so short; i’ve been terribly busy, for whole months, it seems. but i’ve done my best, and i hope you’ll enjoy it. inspired by this song <3

⭒

1975

“Just like old times,” said Roger happily, cranking up the music and beginning to tap his fingers on the steering wheel.

Brian immediately grimaced, and reached over to turn the volume down again.

“Hey!” Roger smacked Brian’s hand away from the knob, and you laughed, from your place between John and Freddie in the backseat.

Brian turned his head to wink at you.

“Some of us need our hearing to be able to play, Rog,” he said.

John wrinkled his nose, flexing his fingers as he shifted a ring from his pointer to his pinky, and back again. “You’ve still got yours left?”

Brian looked confused. “Yeah..?”

“Oh,” said John, with an air of sarcasm, “that’s right. You’re the one who talked our ears off yesterday.”

Now Brian looked miffed. “Just because you don’t understand zodiacal light, doesn’t mean it’s uninteresting.”

Deacy rolled his eyes.

“No offense, darling,” Freddie sighed, “but if you say one more word about science before we’ve finished this champagne-run, I’m going to climb over the console and strangle you.”

Roger guffawed, and John grinned so broadly one would’ve thought him a small child on  Christmas morning.

“Fine,” said Brian, miffed. “I won’t talk at all.”

“Good riddance,” Roger muttered, and Brian crossed his arms.

“Why did I agree to going with you all, again?”

You leaned forward to tug on one of his curls, and Brian whirled, startled, pushing his fingers into his hair. He relaxed when he saw it was only you. “To be the voice of reason, of course,” you told him.

He smiled. “You’re not wrong.”

Roger grumbled, “Don’t boost his ego, sweetheart.”

“Too late,” said Freddie. “He’s going to start talking about time dilation any moment now.”

“Time dilation?” Brian asked. “Hadn’t even thought of that. But if you really want to know—”

A collective groan rose from the other three, and you laughed again.

You loved this.

You loved them.

You loved travelling the world with your four best friends, watching them live their dreams, and getting to be a part of that reality, the reality no one could ever have thought would take on such a life of its own.

Tour life could be hectic at times, but you wouldn’t have given it up for the world.

Not when you arrived in a ramshackle town where the nicest place in sight was the funeral home, not when your legs felt tired enough to give out from beneath you, as you stood watching the show from the wings, for the umpteenth night in a row.

Because when John decided to put on a record, he always asked for your opinion, and picking Roger’s outfit was as much your job as it was his, and when Brian and Freddie played to the crowd as though they were old friends, it was like you held the world in the palm of your hand.

Even if the four of them argued constantly.

As the van suddenly swerved, and the three of you in the back clung to each other in terror, Brian said crossly, “Jesus, Roger, watch the road!”

“I am!” protested the drummer, and Brian grumbled a response in the negative.

“You absolutely are not,” said Freddie, hanging onto the headrest of Brian’s seat. “And I refuse to die in the middle of nowhere, thank you very much, so you can keep your eyes forward if you want to still be in the band by tomorrow night.”

Roger rolled his eyes, and made a blah blah blah gesture with his hand. But he was clearly not as adept at multitasking as he thought, because a moment later, Deacy cried,

“Watch out for that deer!”

“Yes, Roger, slow down,” said Brian warningly. “I swear I will murder you in cold blood if you kill that deer.”

“What deer?” Roger squinted. “I don’t see a— DEER!”

He swerved so violently this time that your seatbelt dug into your skin, and you pushed against the seatbacks to keep from falling forward.

The van hurtled off the side of the road, but Roger had somehow managed to slow the vehicle significantly before the swerve, and so the off-road trip would have been only a momentary pause in your journey into town.

Had it not been for the barbed wire lying in the grass.

The tyres of the van had surely seen better days, after so many miles on the road, and you felt the moment all four of them punctured.

Roger gripped the steering wheel for dear life, and Brian, struggling to combat inertia, had both hands on the dashboard, one knee against the console and other against the door, whilst Freddie still clung to the headrest, and John pushed at the back of Roger’s seat. You, stranded in the middle, failed to maintain any sort of position.

The van ploughed forward like a tidal wave, into the field by the road, then sank abruptly to a stop with a whumph, when the last of its momentum had been wasted.

There was a silence as you looked around the car, at Roger’s tousled hair and Brian’s wide eyes, Freddie’s gritted teeth and John’s crooked collar.

Then the shouting started.

“Roger you moron!”

“How the hell did you not see that coming?!”

“I’ve told you, I need to get my eyes checked!”

“Well, kindly do it before you kill us all!”

“I’ve seen 90-year-old women drive better than you do!”

“Fuck off, Brian! If you hadn’t—”

“We’re never going to get that champagne!”

You all turned to Freddie.

“Really,” you said, “you’re thinking about Moët et Chandon right now?”

Freddie shrugged. “Seems we’d all be in better humour if we’d had the option to have a glass before we left.”

“Or maybe,” Brian drawled, “we’d all be dead, because Roger can barely drive when he’s sober.”

Roger was fuming, bright red in the face with a will to speak but no adequate words to suit, and he looked as though if he stayed silent for a moment longer, he would try to throw a punch at Brian.

Brian, to his credit, folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, and stared Roger down.

Laughter broke the silence, and you all turned to find John completely beside himself with amusement.

He did not stop laughing until he was wiping tears from his eyes, and by then, you had begun smiling too.

“What,” barked Roger.

Deacy shook his head, his soft hair flying about his face. “Don’t any of you see how funny this is?”

“Funny..?” asked Brian cautiously.

“Well,” said Deacy, “are any of you hurt?”

You looked around, tallied the appearances of everyone in your head.

“No,” you replied.

“Okay, then listen: we ran out of champagne, so, despite the fact that it was half-past eleven at night, we all piled into a sort of run-down van, without security, without crew, and set off to buy a bottle of champagne. We’d been driving for all of five minutes before we started arguing the first time, and half an hour into the trip, Roger drives us off the side of a road after Brian finishes rambling about science—”

“Astrophysics, actually—”

“—and all four tyres puncture,” John went on. “And now, we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

There was a pause.

But despite everything, John was right. This really was funny.

You started to laugh as well, and Deacy grinned at you until both Freddie and Brian were smiling, and the corner of Roger’s mouth tugged upward as his colour faded.

Brian sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls. “So, now what?”

“Spare tyres?” you suggested.

“About that…” Roger mumbled.

“Oh, dear god,” Freddie said, dropping his head to his hands.

John laughed again, and Brian made a noncommittal noise.

“So we walk,” you said.

Freddie shook his head. “I am not walking on the side of a road in the middle of the night.”

Roger wrinkled his nose too. “Bloody insects,” he muttered, “get in your hair.”

“And Brian’s stretched his hamstring again,” said Deacy. You glanced over at Brian, who winced apologetically. He wasn’t one to complain, though; you’d all but forgotten his incapacity.

“Which just leaves just you and me,” Deacy nodded to you.

“I dunno, Deacs,” you made a face. “Freddie’s onto something, about not walking on the side of a deserted road in the pitch black. And,” you continued, before John could object, “you’re not going on your own. We’ll simply have to wait until morning.”

Everyone seemed lost in thought.

“Right,” Brian said, “that’s it.” He pulled on the handle of the passenger door, and it clicked open. “We’re sleeping under the stars.”

“Not this again!” Roger cried, but Brian reprimanded him.

“I think you’ve said enough for the time being, Rog.”

The heavy door slammed behind Brian, and you could hear the boot being opened.

“He’s right, you know,” John remarked, in a rare display of solidarity with the guitarist.

Roger only sniffed.

A few seconds later, Brian knocked on Freddie’s window.

“Come on, then!” he said, smilingly. “I’m only sorry none of us brought our instruments.”

Deacy widened his eyes at you. “Thank god for that.”

You laughed and pushed him lightly, toward his door, and when he’d hopped out, you followed.

You rounded the car with John, to find Brian already staring up at the sky, as Freddie and Roger joined you as well.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Brian murmured.

You turned your face to the sky, and saw what he meant.

There was no light pollution here, no skyscrapers or tall houses to obstruct the view, and the world above stretched on endlessly, a plethora of life above your heads. It was so very bright, and yet so very far away. It was indeed beautiful.

You breathed the night air, and nodded.

“I found a picnic blanket,” Brian added, holding it up, “and apparently, Crystal keeps a chocolate stash, so we’ve got that too.” He then sank into the grass, stretching out his long legs, entirely without regard for the light blue suit he wore, and Freddie looked on in distaste.

“That’s no way to treat perfectly good fashion, darling. Now, if it’d been that horrible knitted sweater of yours, and those old, tatty velvet trousers, I’d have said otherwise, but that there is a perfectly good—”

“Sit down, Freddie,” you said, and Freddie closed his mouth and sat. You made your way over to Brian, who had now reclined completely, his fingers winding absently in the pale grass.

Soon, you were all sprawled in the field, which, funnily enough, was peppered with moonflowers, and you sighed, utterly at ease with the peacefulness of the scene around you: your family, the sky, the stars, and the whole of the moon. It shone radiantly this night, full and subtly tinged with orange, warmth softening the usual coldness of its light.

“Spare some of that chocolate?” John whispered from beside you.

You nudged Brian, who passed over the wrapped sweets, which you then handed to John.

Roger was placated by the sharing of the chocolate, and Freddie seemed perfectly content to laze about in a manner similar to that of one of his many cats. The latter fell asleep within minutes, having stolen Roger’s jacket.

It wasn’t long before only you and Brian remained awake, gazing up at the stardust which spilled from the heavens, and the world was quiet.

Brian shifted slightly, and you turned your head to find him looking at you.

A soft smile touched his lips, and his cheeks were rosy in the blue-dark.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

You could not help but smile back, because your heart was as full as it had ever been.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” you whispered.

#tina's writing #platonic!queen x reader #queen #fic

[darlingandmreames]

All My Reckless Dreams and My Restless Hours

(also on ao3)

Prompt: travel and All My Love by George Ezra

Summary:  What he and Arthur had was casual, nothing more. Eames knew that. But at some point it had stopped being just a hookup to him and started being something...more. And Eames didn't know what to do with that

@arthureamesmonth

“God I missed this.”

Eames opened his eyes and looked over. Arthur’s voice was slightly breathless and he looked wonderfully disheveled, his face still flushed and relaxed. Eames reached out, fingers brushing Arthur’s shoulder slightly, and Arthur opened his eyes, turning his head to look at him with a small smile. No matter how many times Eames saw that smile, it still managed to catch him off guard every time. It was so different from his normal one. Happier. More intimate. Almost shy even. “It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?”

Arthur hummed in agreement and moved in closer. Eames shifted to give him space as he curled up next to him, head resting on Eames’ chest and arm draped across his body. “Mm. Too long.”

Eames had been surprised at first at how physically affectionate Arthur was- he’d certainly never struck Eames as the type to enjoy cuddling, and it wasn’t exactly something he associated with hooking up- but he’d quickly come to expect it. It was nice, honestly. A glimpse at a side of Arthur Eames doubted he let many people see. Eames turned his head and stared out the broad windows at the skyline, running his hand absentmindedly through Arthur’s hair. He could see why Arthur had insisted on this hotel; the view was phenomenal, the glittering lights of Seoul spreading out to the horizon far below them. It would look beautiful in the morning, too, as the sun rose. It was something to look forward to; Eames knew his jet lag meant he'd almost certainly be awake for it. He'd only gotten in that morning and his body was still very much on Mumbai time, so an early morning was all but guaranteed. 

"How long is your job?"

"Not long. Probably only a week or two." 

Arthur shifted against him. "That's quite short."

"It's a simple one, and most of the ground work's already been laid by the rest of the team honestly. I'm just coming in for the finishing touches." Eames shrugged, careful not to move too much. Arthur seemed to have settled quite comfortably against him, and he hated being moved once he was settled. "How long'll you be staying in town?"

"Not sure yet. There are a couple of jobs I could take, but I don't have anything concrete set up yet."

Eames nodded, not looking away from the distant lights of the skyline. He'd hoped they might have more than a few days together, but he knew the odds of that were slim. Outside of working a job together they were rarely in the same place together for long. Working in extraction meant almost always being on the go, hopping from country to country, continent to continent, job to job. The excitement of being constantly moving, of seeing the world from first class seats and penthouse hotel rooms, had been one of the things that had drawn him into the field in the first place. A few nights together, if that, was generally the most they could manage, but it wasn't like that was a surprise. And besides, it wasn’t like they were actually seeing each other. A couple nights was more than enough for a hookup. It was perfectly fine.

Or at least it had been. Until he’d started to notice that he missed Arthur after they went their separate ways. He didn’t just miss the sex, either, though he did definitely miss that too. He missed Arthur’s company. Missed his dry humour and sarcastic comments. Missed waking up next to him. He’d started looking for excuses for them to cross paths, reasons for them to be in the same city for even just a night or two. He honestly hadn’t even been that interested in the job he was about to start and probably would’ve turned it down normally. It was in Seoul though, and he’d known Arthur was going to be finishing up a job there right around then. So he’d accepted it, interest be damned. 

He knew it was stupid of him to do. He was putting in far more effort than the occasional hookup was worth. But every time he told himself he’d stop, that he’d go back to treating what they had as casual because that’s what it was, he remembered what it felt like to have Arthur curled against him like this. How it felt to have Arthur smile at him as they laid in bed together. And then he found himself asking Arthur about his upcoming jobs as nonchalantly as he could manage, looking for an excuse for them to meet up even though he knew it would just hurt more when they parted ways again afterwards. It seemed to get harder each time, and Eames had no doubt it would be the same when they said their goodbyes again in a day or two. He focused on the distant, crisscrossing lines of the city streets outside, trying to ignore the creeping tendrils of sadness in his chest at the thought of it. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Hm?” Eames glanced down, startled out of his thoughts.

“You’re weirdly quiet and tense.” Arthur was tracing abstract patterns gently over Eames’ skin. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just…just tired, that’s all.”

“Mm.” Arthur traced the outline of one of Eames’ tattoos lazily, the feeling of the slight calluses on his fingers against Eames’ skin sending a slight shiver down his spine. “For someone who lies for a living, you’re really terrible at it the rest of the time, you know that?”

“I did have an almost 18 hour travel time to get here, you know,” Eames chuckled, trying to shift the topic. “I really am tired.”

“I’m sure you are.” Arthur moved on to another tattoo, moving his fingers around the edges softly. “But it’s not what’s bothering you.”

Arthur’s voice was quiet but sure and Eames sighed, looking back out the window. There were very few people who could reliably and accurately read Eames, but Arthur was undeniably one of them. And he was right, of course. Not that it made Eames any more eager to have the conversation he knew was coming. The one he’d been intentionally avoiding for a while. “I’ve just been…thinking. About us.”

Arthur’s fingers paused and Eames felt him look up. “Oh?”

Eames kept his gaze fixed on the lights outside. “I mean, I’m certainly not usually one for labels or such, but I just…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “What is this? What are we?”

Arthur propped himself up on his elbow, looking Eames in the face. “What do you want us to be?”

Eames frowned, still looking out the window. It was easier than looking at Arthur and seeing his expression, or at least what Eames imagined his expression could be. What he worried it could be. “I asked you first.”

“And I have an answer. But I want to hear yours first. I want to know what you want, uninfluenced by what I want.”

“I don’t…” Eames shrugged, still looking away. “This was supposed to be casual. Hooking up on jobs or between them. That's it. That's what people like us do. It's what our lives allow. I know that. And maybe…maybe that's all it is still." He shifted his gaze away from the window and stared at the sheets, still avoiding looking at Arthur. "But goodbyes are harder now, you know? They've been getting harder for a while. And that…that hasn’t happened before with other people. It’s different. You’re different.” He finally looked up hesitantly. Arthur was watching him with a serious expression that looked so out of place with his messy hair and the flush that hadn’t quite left his cheeks. Eames reached out and brushed his hair back gently. “You’re different,” he muttered again, not sure how else to say it. Because he was. Arthur was different. Maybe not at first, not when they’d first started doing this a little over a year ago. It had been casual then, nothing more. But not anymore. Not for a while. What do you want us to be? He took a deep breath, resting his hand against the side of Arthur’s face. He needed to say this, to tell him. “I…I-I want this to be real, Arthur. I want us to be real, because I think I’m falling for you. No, I know I am. And I get it if you don’t feel the same way, if this is still just a casual hookup for you, because that’s all it’s supposed to be, but I…it’s not just that for me anymore. And if that is all this still is for you then I can’t keep doing this. Because I look at you and…” He stared at Arthur, running his thumb across his cheek. “If I still dreamt, darling, it would be of you.”

Eames looked away as soon as the words were out of his mouth, not wanting to see Arthur's reaction. He couldn't see his reaction. Arthur was silent for a moment and Eames bit his lip. Maybe this had been a bad idea. It had been a bad idea. That was obvious. It was too much, too vulnerable. He shouldn't have said anything. Should’ve just let things lie. 

He was about to apologize and offer to leave when he felt Arthur's fingers on his face, tilting his chin to look at him. "You're a hopeless romantic." Arthur leaned in and kissed him lightly. "A bit of an idiot, but a hopelessly romantic one."

"Wait, you…" Eames pulled back slightly, needing to see Arthur's expression. "You're okay with this? With us?"

"I told you I already had an answer. I was just waiting for you to figure out yours." Arthur was smiling, watching him with a warm expression that made Eames' breath catch slightly in his throat. "This has been real for me for a while. And you know me. I don't do things halfway." Arthur kissed him again, slower and deeper than before, pulling back just enough to whisper against his lips. "All my love is yours, Eames. I'm yours, if you'll have me."

Eames pulled him back in, leaning into the kiss. He'd kissed Arthur plenty of times, but not like this. He didn't think he'd ever kissed anyone like this. Not this gently, this deeply, this sincerely. Not with so many unspoken promises. I miss you when you're gone. I'm falling for you. I've already fallen for you. Eames tried to communicate each promise with every kiss, Arthur returning them with equal affection. No matter where you go, I'll be there if you want me. Wherever you are, I'm yours. Even after they pulled apart to breathe Eames kept his eyes closed, resting his forehead against Arthur's. It took him a moment to find his voice, but when he finally did he let out a quiet, breathy laugh. "I really am a bit of an idiot, aren't I?"

"Just a little." Arthur kissed his cheek softly and moved closer, resting his head in the crook of Eames' neck. "But it's part of your charm." He slipped his hand into Eames’, intertwining their fingers. “You know, since I don’t have a job set up, I was thinking I might just stay in Seoul for a little. Maybe a week or two.”

Eames wrapped his other arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “I’d love that.” Arthur let out a small, contented hum as he nestled against Eames’ side. It was a familiar sound, one that Eames had heard more times than he could count by now. Now, though, he thought it might be the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard. He closed his eyes and settled back against the pillows, holding Arthur close. Eames could feel his jet lag starting to catch up to him and he knew he'd start to drift off soon, but even encroaching sleep couldn't dampen the warmth in his chest. "I'd love it more than anything."

#arthur x eames #arthur/eames #dream husbands #dreamhusbands #arthureamesmonth2020 #I'm not sure how I feel about this one but here ya go anyways kjhgkjshfd #local trash goblin writes stuff

[blog-sliverofjade]

Of Doms & Subs 19: The End is Just the Beginning

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary:  What’s a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 2213

Of Doms & Subs Master List

Ellie anticipated a panic attack.  It had been some time since she’d been underneath a man, and she expected to feel trapped as she had so often with Will.  Maybe it was because there wasn’t much difference in their sizes but was more likely due to the fact that he was the polar opposite of Will.  Unlike her ex-husband, he’d shown his teeth from the very beginning.  Was that only four days ago?  Her wolf didn’t care; she’d found their mate.  She let herself settle into that easy bliss and release her human hang-ups, if only for a little while.

Mickayla had warned her that her sex drive would crank up to 11, but no warning in the world could have prepared her for this.  A few minutes of a semi-naked make out session and her body felt wound to the breaking point.  Heat washed over her like waves lapping at a shore.  Excitement, wonder, and love burst inside her, deliciously sharpened by a hint of fear.  The kind of adrenaline charged fear she felt when free climbing, knowing that no anchor kept her from falling.  Only she wanted to dive off the precipice she teetered on and fly.

She disentangled her leg from his to cradle him between her thighs.  Even through their underwear and his pants, he undoubtedly felt how damp her panties were.  Though she was too far gone to feel embarrassed.  A button on his shirt scraped against a nipple and her breath caught.  Angus released her mouth and she nearly whined at the loss.  The usual sternness dominating his features had melted away and he appeared vulnerable for the first time, soft even.  His thumb brushed over her swollen bottom lip.  She caught his wrist to press a kiss to his palm, which made him smile.

Cupping the side of her neck, Angus turned his attention to her breasts, heaving as she panted.  The white mounds moulded easily to his hand even as they overfilled it; he lowered his head to a pert nipple that was practically sitting up and begging for attention.  She jerked towards him as if a jolt of electricity shot through her.  He licked and laved the rosy bud to a stiff peak and then moved to the next one.

When she settled again, he slipped a hand between her legs and brushed her clit.  Her back bowed at the light touch.  When did she become so sensitive?  Was it the werewolf thing?  Or was it because it’d been so long?  He dipped a finger into her slick petals.  Oh God, she was dripping.  Her hips tried to follow him on the withdrawal.  The need painted across her face resembled a grimace of pain.  He stilled and pulled back to look at her.

“Are you all right, mo cridhe?”  The hand on her neck moved to stroke her hair.

“Yes!” cried Ellie, squirming around his finger.

“Are you certain?  We can stop.”  Angus began to withdraw, but she gripped his wrist with supernatural strength, keeping him within her walls.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she panted.

“Oh?  What am I doing?”  The hunger on his face was at complete odds with his innocent tone.

“You’re trying to give me an out,” she scowled.

“Well then, while we’re on the subject,” his dark eyes were lit with his sly humour that she was learning how to read, “Do you want this?  Because I swear to God I’ll not stop until your legs are quivering and the neighbours are very well aware of my name, to say nothing of the pack.”  She bit her lip, torn between arousal and mortification.  His finger shifted ever so slightly and either she’d closed her eyes or her vision had short-circuited due to the pleasure from the minute movement.

“If you stop, I will bite you,” she hissed, glaring up at him.

“That’s hardly a deterrent.”  The gleam in his bottomless eyes filled her mind’s eye with flashes of fangs and entwined bodies that had her tossing her head back, exposing her throat.  He nipped at the velvety flesh and she thrashed under the overwhelming pleasure that washed through her, whining softly.  He smiled into her pulse point and added another digit, crooking them and beginning to pump in and out.  The knot low in her belly wound tighter and tighter.  She gasped when he hit one spot in particular.

“Ah, there we are,” he whispered in a voice like dark chocolate and velvet.  Rocking on his hand, she gripped one of his shoulders like it was a lifeline, nails digging into his skin through the shirt.

Her silken walls fluttered around his fingers and her mewls grew louder.  He and his wolf were one in their smugness.  Her reactions made him wonder if her ex had ever seen to her satisfaction.  The thought that he would be the one to give her such pleasure had him grinning ferally.

“Tha gaol agam ort, m'eudail.”  Long ago, he’d taught himself to use his voice like a tool: he could crack it like a whip or light fires in people’s hearts.  Or he could intimately caress someone.  She’d seemed particularly affected by it, especially when she first submitted to him.  The carpet still smelled like her.  “Cum for me, a leanbh.”

There was no need to draw upon his dominance, even if he was willing to use it in bedroom games.  He curved his fingers again and she bowed off the bed with a scream that only died out when she ran out of breath, but her orgasm continued, drawn out by his deft hand.  Blunt fingernails dug into his thigh.  Though they would heal in moments, he purred internally at the possessiveness of it.  In turn, he bit the juncture of her neck and shoulder, almost breaking the skin, but not quite.  He laved at the small hurt as she came down, his strokes slowing.

Sitting up, Angus drank in her ample curves, her arms flung around her head, and unbuttoned his shirt.  She drew one leg up so she could turn and ogled him in kind from a better angle.  He stood and reached for his belt; white teeth nibbled a slick, pink lip.  The way she watched him, as if in need, was a seduction unto itself.  A faint clink of the pants falling to the floor and he was nude before her.

Werewolves quickly learned to shed any discomfort they had with nudity, but pink still spread across Ellie’s face, slackened in awe.  He smiled with certain amount of male satisfaction in knowing that she was with him because she wanted to be, and not because she wanted to jump the hierarchy.  Knowing that she worried about the pack and for him, even challenging his arguments, filled him with a pride and admiration.

“Hmm, I’m not terribly familiar with the mating habits of wolves.”  Her voice was husky from screaming and hunger.  “But how long are we supposed to stare at each other?”

“You’re going to have to learn to watch that mouth,” he rumbled and slunk across the bed with eyes that glowed wolf.

“Oh?”  The shape of said mouth as she formed the sound made him wonder if she would manage such arch coyness if that same mouth was wrapped around his cock.  In reply, he sank his teeth into her bottom lip, lapping at the crimson beads that welled up.

“You bit me.”  If she was trying for indignation, her tone was far too breathy to be effective.

“You threatened to bite me first.”  His shrug was met with bright laughter.  She spread her thighs in welcome and he settled into the cradle of her hips, which pressed up against him when his length fell against her crease, brushing her clit.  Panting, she threw her head back with a low moan.

Looking into her caramel apple coloured eyes when she could focus again, he pressed into her wet heat.  Impatient, she wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed him deeper into her channel.  He resisted and chuckled at her frustrated pout.

“This is our first time together,” he smiled, propping himself up on one elbow and stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers.  “There’ll be plenty of time for animalism in the second round.”

“S-second round?” she blinked.

“Supernatural stamina means a refractory period of minutes.”  He took advantage of her open mouth to caress her tongue with his, pushing deeper into her until he was fully sheathed.  She snaked her arms around his neck and writhed under him, trying to coax him into moving faster.

Ellie rolled her hips, savouring the perfect fit as if they were made for each other, returning his kiss with interest only to pull away with a gasp as he moved again.  He rocked into her aching core, kneaded the meat of a thigh curled around him, and the way he licked his lips was downright indecent.

Their slow, smooth rhythm soon had her squirming with bliss; Angus watched with a face slack in awe and lust, an expression which she no doubt mirrored.  Yet he maintained a firm grip on his self-control and she wanted to snap the leash.  Clenching around him as tightly as she could, she dug her feet into his marbled ass for leverage to drive herself up his shaft.  He snarled at her impatience.  Once, she would have shrank from the aggression; instead, she did it again and arched her head back to flaunt the line of her throat.  The way he’d reacted whenever her neck was vulnerable hadn’t gone unnoticed.

With a roar, he sank his teeth into her sensitive flesh and slammed into her, the bed thumped into the wall in time with the snap of his hips.  The knot in her lower belly snapped and she came with a scream, gouging furrows in his corded back.  He didn’t let up, pounding into her quivering pussy, forcing her to climax again and again until it all blended into one.  Only after she was a trembling wreck did he delved as deeply as he could, pulsing as he filled her to overflowing, their combined fluids painting her folds.

They lay there for awhile to catch their breath, still connected, foreheads pressed together.  She shook occasionally, her inner walls fluttering around him.

“I think I love you,” whispered Ellie.

“You’re still capable of thought?  Then I haven’t done my job properly,” he smirked.  She laughed throatily; he kissed the bite mark, which was already fading.  “If you change your mind and want to leave, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to watch you walk away.”

It wasn’t a flowery speech, or a grand declaration of his affection.  He all but admitted weakness.  To her.  A wolf who’d been told since her Making that she would never have any power in their world.  And an Alpha had placed himself in her hands.  That knowledge stole her breath, her thought, and most of all, her heart.

The next day, Angus mobilized Ian, Jim, Mickayla, and Shane to pack up her little apartment.  They picked up her brother, Peter, from Vancouver (Washington, not British Columbia) to help.  He’d volunteered even after she’d confessed that she turned furry every full moon.

“She’s been through hell.”  Peter’s growl was worthy of a werewolf, unaware that she overheard through the open window as she packed.  Apparently, not all of their attributes were public knowledge otherwise he would have lowered his voice.  “If you hurt her, I will pump you full of silver.”

Ellie peered down into the packing lot where they were supposed to be loading the SUV.  Her brother loomed over Angus, using his larger size in a blatant attempt at intimidation.  Angus nodded solemnly, and she had to stifle a laugh.  Her Alpha could eat him for breakfast.  Literally.

Later, she thanked him profusely for not murdering her brother for his temerity.  He said something about “not disciplining foolhardy pups” for trying to protect their family, but he accepted her gratitude with fervour.

Her meager belongings looked shabby in Angus’s- their- condo, even with her new, albeit small, wardrobe.  Yet he didn’t bat an eye at her tablet with the cracked corner, or her ancient   laptop, instead placing them next to his own shiny devices to charge.  Nor did he hesitate to place her dog-eared novels next to his first editions.  He returned her keys and her lime green jalopy received a place of honour next to his Tesla.

The following days passed in a whirlwind and before she knew it she was standing in a conference room of sorts in the pack’s warehouse.  Framed by a skylight, the luminous face of the full moon watched from above while she ritually consumed his flesh and was bound to the pack.

While they prepared to shift, several members handed cash over to Mickayla.  Ellie arched a brow in her direction.

“They thought you’d mate our fearless leader tonight,” she shrugged and forked over a portion of the winnings, which disappeared into a back pocket.

“There’s no need to rush.”  Ellie’s smile lit up her face as Angus came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her.  “We have forever ahead of us.”

Tha gaol agam ort, m'eudail - I love you

#my writing #mercy thompson series #patricia briggs #angus hopper #citrus scale #lime #lemon #original female character #fan fiction #mercyverse #alpha and omega series #pack dynamics #mating ritual #mating bond #mating #werewolf culture #werewolf character #werewolves #werewolf #fan fic #modern fantasy #urban fantasy

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Red alert

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 22 | Part 23 Red alert | Part 24 >

Disclaimer: A little naughty (maybe not entirely PG13? What do you kids watch these days anyways?) and a bit of travel sickness 

Author’s note: 🔥(That’s all I have to say) 

Word count: 1.919

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

I never thought I would come to say this, but I think I’ve learned to appreciate the cold. I’m still not a great fan of it, let that be clear. But there’s something quite funny about the routine you build around such extreme temperatures. Digging yourself out of your trailer? Check. Doing jumping jacks while letting your dog pee in the snow? Check. Ice fishing and making Maple Syrup Taffy (which I adore by now)? Check.  

Today is our last day here in Canada and I’ll miss the polite fun folk we have met, the film crew whom are absolute rockstars no matter how extreme the cold got and I’ll most definitely NOT miss the trailer we lived in. Three broken heaters. A leaking shower. A bed that was barely large enough for me to stretch my legs (poor chocolate cake had to almost sleep folded in half) and no place to properly dry your clothes meant it smelt like old fart if you didn’t light some scented candles.

But no more old farts! We are going home!

See you soon dear parents, friends and other good acquaintances. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you in person!

Ali

‘Oophh..I’m not feeling so well Hen.’ I croaked, gripping the arm rest of the airplane seat tightly. I felt about as green as the puking bag I held in my other hand, ready in case my body would no longer hold in the two puny sandwiches I had for breakfast.

Henry rubbed a strong hand over the nape of my neck, cooing some comforting words in my ear over the loud noise of the plane engines and storm outside.

And…DROP…there went the plane again, my bowels drifting for a few milliseconds too long, making the bile rise in the back of my throat. Shaking my head in terror I opened the bag, trying my utter best to breath in deeply through my nose.

Somewhere in the racket of the aerial doom I could hear the quiet whining of Kal, the poor dog folded in between Henry’s legs.

Quite a pair we were, hmm? Scared Kal, sick Alice.

Slowly I felt my breathing calm, the bile sinking back where it belonged, the cold sweat on my skin drying somewhat.

‘Please tell me it..’

DROP. The plane made another dive through the air, my previous green hue right back where it was just moments ago. My face got sweaty again and my breath choked as I kept my mouth clenched tight to prevent any bile from exiting any orifices. 

Usually I was pretty okay with flying. But this? This?! Oh my word. This was something else! I wasn’t even sure if Henry was an actual human, his body calm and relaxed, voice soothing. Like nothing was the matter and we weren’t right now looking right in the gaping mouth of a hell storm, ready to be devoured.

‘I can’t do.. This.’ I gulped, sitting back up and looking white as a sheet, my eyes trying to focus on the chair before me.

‘You’re doing real well.’ Henry praised, his warm hand pushing some sticky strands of hair away from my face. ‘Deep breath in and puff puff puff out.’ He puffed along with me and the very act made me somewhat forget about our predicament. I swallowed back another bit of bile and quickly looked over at him, his mouth still shaped in a little “o” as he helped me puff. ‘I’m not having a baby over here Hen.’ I sniffled, then felt my body protest again, the bile jumping back up in my throat.

Henry laughed. ‘If it works, it works. Besides, a little practise is always good.’ I could clearly distinguish the humour in his voice but feeling sick as a dog I first needed another one of those long inhales followed by a series of puffs before I could look back at him. With an exasperated look I puffed into his face, making him laugh even harder. ‘You’re nearly there baby!’ He cheered, taking the piss with me a bit. I growled and shook my head in annoyance. ‘You…’

‘Just another..four more hours.’ He winked, pointing at the screens that showed the flight time.

‘I hate you right now..*breath in* Cavill *ppfffff pfff pfff*’

‘Just wait until I put an actual baby in you.’ He whiskered huskily in my ear.

Oh how glad I was that nobody could hear us over the loud racket. That nobody could hear my stomach make an actual somersault - both in a good and bad way at the same time. And oh how glad I was I wasn’t physically able to launch myself at him right now, because truly..this man? This man was the greatest of teasers and right now he could most definitely need some..well..let’s say “putting in place”?

—

‘Home sweet home!!’ Henry turned the key of the blue slated house, the hour late and Kal lagging behind us as he was making a reintroduction with the front yard. Tail wagging, nose sniffing, he was acquainting himself with his new home. Our home. Our very own home. A very empty home, too.

We had not really had any time to move and buy furniture, so right now the large house only had a few basic pieces; a bed, a small couch, a kitchen table with two chairs and a few lights. Henry flicked his hand over the light switch to turn it on, but darkness did not evaporate with the burst of yellowish light. It remained dark instead. Grumbling Henry took his phone from his back pocket and used it to shine some light on the light switch.

‘Strange.’ He grumbled, looking over at me as I was calling Kal inside. Stepping in behind him I noticed that something was amiss. ‘Missing a spark there, sir?’ I winked and just like that his annoyance was forgotten, his face breaking into a smile. ‘Looks like it’s going to be a romantic night in the dark ages, my fair lady.’ - ‘Mmm…sounds terribly romantic.’

Closing the door behind us and following Henry’s flashlight into the kitchen, our feet echoing loudly in the empty hallway, we found some groceries his parents had done for us earlier that day. We filled Kal’s bowl, opened the bottle of red wine we found and decided to drink our first celebratory glass of alcohol in bed, the house being a bit chilly as the heating also seemed to have died along with the electricity.

‘I think the dead heater has cursed us.’ I mumbled, trembling under the sheets, body propped up against the headboard and Henry pouring us two glasses. He chuckled. ‘We’ll make sure to sacrifice a virgin later. But first things first; a toast!’

I laughed and clinked glasses with him, the mattress shifting as he moved in close beside me, his lips quite instantaneously finding mine before I could even take a sip. ‘Mmmm..it may have taken me a good 37-ish years to woo you, dear Alice, but please let me tell you that I am the happiest man in the world right now.’ He kissed me again, more passionately.

I chuckled into his kiss, pulling back slightly. ‘I am glad about that too. Even as I lay here in all my clothes, shivering under a blanket, stinking of airplane and probably tasting of bile, too.’ I winked at Henry, his features half-lit by the light of his phone’s flashlight that he had now placed on the foot end of the bed. He laughed and pressed another kiss on my lips. ‘Oh no. Nothing can quite stop me from loving you, I’m sure. Absolutely..’ He pressed a kiss lower on my neck, his teeth gripping onto the neck of my comfy, but totally un-sexy turtleneck sweater. ‘Nothing.’ He growled, tugging at it playfully, making me laugh even harder.

We had taken only two more sips of our wines before we busied ourselves with reacquainting with another piece we had missed very much; his bed. Now, our bed. Limbs tangling together, lips locking, there were a few things that simply didn’t change. Henry was a bear in every..sense..of the word. Big, bulky, sweet, hairy bear hugs. 

And apparently next to family planning, long airplane flights ALSO got him terribly horny.

—

Squinting my eyes I looked to my side, finding a still asleep Henry entangled with my arms and legs. Which, in and of its own was quite unique as Henry was usually up way before I even managed to blink open a heavy eyelid. Grumbling I shifted my hip and felt something weird on my leg.

Was that a …SNAIL?

Squirming and huffing in disgust I quickly shot out of bed, only realising a moment too late what it actually was. Not a snail or anything of an animalistic nature. A condom. Gasping quietly I saw Henry wake up as well, his blue eyes immediately searching for me and finding me next to the bed. Quizzically frowning at me he grumbled. ‘Mmwhat is it?’ He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then saw what I was pointing at. The condom.

‘Oh..’ He blinked, picking it up with deft fingers, then blinked a few times more when he realised that it was not just a condom. It was a..broken..condom. We both held our breath, the last remains of sleep immediately lifted.

‘Holy crap.’ I gasped, our eyes meeting in a moment of silent understanding. Henry sat up and swallowe harshly. ‘I’m SO sorry. Oh..’ He quickly tossed the condom aside and pulled the sheets away, large crusty stains everywhere. ‘Oh god I’m so sorry Ali. I didn’t know..I…’ He gave me a pleading look, large hairy chest heaving with terror.

And yet, despite the fact this was not truly a funny thing, I laughed. ‘Oh my..’ I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. ‘Well that was an adventurous night, for sure.’ I said, slowly crawling back on the bed, evading the large crusty stain in the middle. Henry sighed and rubbed his face again. ‘Damn. Do you want to go to the pharma..-’

‘No.’ I cut him short. Our eyes met again and just like that another silent agreement was made, Henry’s pleading eyes melting into ones of tender love. ‘Really?’

I giggled and crawled into his lap, nuzzling his nose and enjoying the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around me. ‘Really Ali?’

‘Henry! Please do not make me regret a thing that feels good.’

Henry’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. ‘So.. it’s okay?’

I nodded and looked deep into his ocean blue eyes. ‘To me it’s okay. Is it for you?’ I asked with honest curiosity, but I couldn’t keep a serious face for long when I saw Henry’s over enthused face. ‘Alice..Alice Alice Alice..is this what I think it is?’ He whispered, eyes large and expecting, his hands rubbing slow circles over my lower back. I grinned and nodded, shrugging ever so slightly. ‘It’s not like we aren’t on the same page. No matter what happens. We want this, right?’ - ‘Right.’ - ‘Then let this happy little accident make it so.’ - ‘Okay.’ Henry said, still coming up to speed with what we had just decided upon.

‘AAAHH!!’ He exclaimed rolling us over, the dirty sheets sticking to our bodies, making me laugh with joy. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you!’ He whispered with great contentment, his lips travelling down my jawline, pressing sweet kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

‘I love you too Henry. Now better warm me up before we’re going to probably have our coldest shower EVER.’

‘With pleasure.’  

--

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#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x author #romcom #the marriage pact #travel #travel sickness #turbulence #kal #henry bear #red alert

[selfships-in-spanish]

THE FILTH ANON 🍆 HAS RETURNED BITCHES Fuuuuck that filth was beautiful I loved it 👏 Speaking of filth, I propose more filth. Ona walking around without panties for the day and our favorite twins take advantage bc it’s Easy Access yo!

Filth anon I missed the 🍆 in my ask box

Infinite thanks to @tinmiss1939 for helping me with mistakes and wording things better and giving the best ideas. What would I do without you

Enjoy!!

It was a picture. Just a picture taken with a phone, but that picture showed Detective Boix with that tight pencil skirt she bought the other day, pulled up just enough to show how there was nothing underneath it. Just smooth honey skin, that tiny freckle on her buttock that drove him crazy, absolutely nothing but her full, meaty bu–

“Connor, for fuck’s sake!” Connor stared dumbfoundedly at Hank, while the lieutenant snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. The lieutenant had an annoyed frown and Connor knew it had been there for a while, judging by the scowl he was sporting too. “Did something snap or fry inside that brain of yours? That,” Hank pointed at Connor’s LED ”has been lighting up like a disco ball.” 

“My apologies, Lieutenant.” Hank’s deepening scowl made him stutter. “H-Hank. Everything is fine.”

“Yeah? Well, Mr. Victim here isn’t, so let’s get back to it.” Hank stepped away from Connor and the car parked just outside of the crime scene. The other officers already restricted the area to keep away civilians and nosey neighbours.

Connor nodded and followed the lieutenant inside the house, sending Ona a text back.

“Naughty minx.” 

Ona replied with a smiley face with its tongue out, followed by another message.

“This is payback for the other day.”

Ben was already there and briefed them both about what they found out for now. 

“Which day?”

Hank began looking around, inspecting the rooms to get a general idea about what happened. Connor followed him, using his enhanced features to find the hidden clues and marks not visible to the simple eye.

“Don’t play dumb, you know which one.”

Connor felt a smile tug at his lips. He perfectly knew what day she was talking about. He pulled up the video footage stored in his memory of Ona stuttering and blushing on seeing both him and Richard with the collar of their shirts open and first buttons undone, giving her a perfect view of their collarbones and a bit of their chests. The little shits even put on a bit of that cologne that Ona loved for their little date night. They always did their homework when it came to Ona.

“You are a vengeful one, teacup.”

Connor chuckled at Richard’s message. He was sure Richard had a small smile on his own lips too. 

“Fear the wrath of a horny girlfriend.”

“And what will this wrath do?” Both Ona and Connor could see Richard raising a precisely designed eyebrow as he always did when he teased her. 

“She will execute her vengeance through tight mini skirts and garter belts.”

Connor inhaled sharply, needing to cool down his quickly burning fans.

“That wasn’t in the picture you sent.”  He interjected quickly, needing to know. 

“Oh, wasn’t it?”

Connor followed the almost faded fingerprints on a suspicious surface, searching through the DPD database for a match. He left the scan running in the background, his attention focusing on the conversation between him, Richard and Ona.

“Terribly vengeful.” Richard tutted, probably shaking his head with a smile. 

“This isn’t fair and you know it.” Connor looked around, as if afraid of someone peeking inside his mind for a moment or that he was broadcasting his thoughts. He decided he was safe.  “Do you have them on?”

“You will have to come and see for yourself if I do.”

“You are cruel.”

“>;)”

The fingerprint results came in. A match was found. Connor informed Hank and began the paperwork for warrants to search the suspect’s home. Meanwhile they kept searching every room for more clues and evidence that helped support the suspicions of the possible perp. Hank’s eyes wandered to Connor more than once, and the android noticed it but refused to meet his stare or ask about it. But, Hank was nothing if persistent, and he always went after the truth behind things. And right now, that truth was Connor. 

“You okay there, Connor?” Hank pointed to his own temple, the same side where Connor’s LED was. 

“Yes Hank, everything is under control.” Connor didn’t have to look into a mirror to know his LED was firing up. Hank decided that Connor at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed of his blatant lie.

“Huh. Well, you sure?” Hank turned around, scratching his beard. “If something isn’t, uh, you know you can tell me, right Connor?”

Connor couldn’t help but to smile.

“I know, Hank. Thank you.”

Hank nodded, taking his cue to leave the room. Connor knew Hank still had his problems in showing affection and care for anyone again, so it was awkward for him to voice it out and show it at all. Connor was a patient android, though, and he would keep trying to chase the bad thoughts away.

Connor watched Hank leave muttering something, probably something to do with secretive androids, but Connor decided to not mention it. It was better not to remind Hank that androids had very acute hearing.

After giving the room another quick sweep just in case he missed anything, Connor got out of the crime scene to let the officers and forensics finish their jobs while he and Hank continued the investigation. Hank was already waiting for him in the car, fumbling with the old music panel controls until he found a song he wanted to hear. Connor opened the passengers door, neatly sitting down and putting on the seat belt.

Hank’s Oldsmobile roared to life and Hank set course for the DPD, but not without thinking about getting some food when they were near it. Maybe Connor would indulge him today, he had been good the whole week and ate all the healthy food Connor shoved in his face. Connor didn’t have to know about the midnight snacks. Although Connor probably already knew. Sneaky little shit.

But his good mood about grabbing something to eat on the go, and Connor not pulling a displeased frown, went away when Reed’s sneer faced him. Apparently he and Richard came back from another case they were dealing with, and was in a terrible mood because with Gavin, God knows why. Maybe the coffee machine broke again and the technician didn’t come yet, or maybe it was the vending machine, or someone decided to take a shit in the men’s restroom and he came right after, or…

Or maybe because Detective Boix was on desk duty and decided to be every straight man's fantasy in an office job.

Ona was walking back from the copy machine, heels clicking on the tile floor and hips swaying from one side to the other while she inspected the printed documents. Hank recognised that movement, the most hypnotising motion a woman can do in a wiggle dress, and she played the whole ‘Marilyn Monroe’ to utter perfection with that pencil skirt and tight sweater.

One look at Connor and Hank swore she was going to send him into early retirement; he looked like a moth hypnotized by a flame.

Connor’s LED was spinning bright red, eyes glued to the hourglass shape the skirt made her seem to have, narrowing her waist to accentuate her full hips. And Ona changing her tattered sneakers for high heels only helped to heighten her butt and legs. And of course her tattoo. Connor always liked to trace it with his fingers, admiring the marvelous job the tattoo artist did on her skin.

Connor decided that a pencil skirt and tight sweater were both a blessing and a nightmare.

Richard appeared from the break room, a cup to go of coffee in his hand with its lid on and steam coming off the tiny drinking aperture. He walked to Detective Boix’s desk, where she was tidying her belongings and making sure she had everything she needed for the court hearing. Richard called her name, softly so only she could hear it, and stopping close to her. Ona turned around just when she was grabbing her coat from the chair with a surprised expression on her face.

“Oh!”

“You will need it. Judge Bridges has a long history of lulling people to sleep with his monotone speeches, and I would hate for you to become another victim of his charming voice.” Richard setted the cup of coffee on the desk, taking Ona’s coat from her hands and holding it open for her put it on.

Ona laughed at Richard’s sense of humour, knowing he was right, and couldn’t help but to blush slightly at Richard’s attentive details, letting him put her coat on.

“Thank you, my Knight in Shining Armour, to help this Damsel in Distress about to face the Dragon of Absolute Boredom.” Ona turned around to face Richard, smirking as she righted her coat and grabbed her hand bag with the documents in it.

Richard smiled, handing her the cup of coffee. Ona took it, smiling back, but with a glint in her eyes that Richard knew it screamed mischief. And he wasn’t wrong. Ona made like he had something on his Cyberlife issued jacket (he was slowly getting rid of his android clothes), brushing her fingers on the fabric and then using him as support when she leaned in, red lips close to his ear that his sensors could pick up her warm breath.

“I’m still not wearing anything under my skirt.” 

Connor knew Ona said something, because Richard suddenly stood straighter, if that was even possible with his successor model, and the way Ona looked over at him with a smirk on her lips… 

Richard’s hands twitched at his sides, making an unconscious attempt to lift themselves to most probably grip her waist, but he stopped himself in time. They were in public, right in the middle of the DPD bullpen with curious eyes, and she was playing so dirty–

“What a pity neither of you won’t be able to check if I’m lying, right?” 

Richard knew Ona liked to tease them both, to test where their precious self-control would snap in half, and right now Richard was this close to haul her up and go to the unoccupied interrogation room and, and–

“See you later, Rich.” Ona kissed his cheek, so sweetly in contrast with the saucy information she just supplied. He knew Ona’s red lipstick left a tiny smudge on his synthskin. 

Richard stood there, LED spinning violently red, as she patted his chest and went to the door where Connor and Hank waited. Hank didn’t want anything to do with whatever game these  three were playing.  He rolled his eyes and he shook his head in disbelief when Ona let out a tiny giggle at his “I’m tired of your bullshit” face. That, and Richard rendered to a Windows’ blue screen of death.

“Nope, gonna stay out of this.” Hank raised his hands and went to the break room to grab more napkins for his lunch. He left Connor alone to deal with her and their stupid game.

Connor knew Ona’s sweet smile, and he knew this time it was only a mask to cover the mischief she was carrying out, because Connor knew Ona, knew when she was teasing them both into oblivion, and as Richard said earlier, Ona was a vengeful one when it came to horniness.

“You are putting all the succubuses of Hell to shame.” Connor’s fingers found the opened hem of her coat, lightly grasping it to ground himself and not let his wandering hands go too far. They were in public.

“I am?” Ona feigned an innocent and surprised face. Connor’s raised brows made her laugh. “Well, maybe I’m a very hungry one. Who knows?”

“You play dirty.” Connor ventured his fingers inside the coat with the security of being hidden by the warm and heavy coat. He brushed his fingers along her waist, touching the top edge of the skirt where the zipper was.

“You are one to talk, Mr. ‘I know your weaknesses and I will exploit them’.” Ona’s smirk made him snicker. He leaned in closer, his eyes shifting from her olive ones to her red lips.

“Guilty.” Connor whispered, his lips about to brush hers. But Ona moved at the last inch and kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving too a slightly red mark on his synthskin. Connor’s artificial breathing stuttered, the air going hard through his nose, frustrated.

“Sorry love, I gotta go.” Ona bit her lower lip, enjoying the teasing. She almost felt sorry for Connor. Almost. “But you still have one mystery to solve, Mr.Detective.” Ona leaned into his ear, like she did with Richard just a few moments ago. “I am or I am not wearing them right now?” 

Ona walked past him, winking at him when he turned around to watch her go.

Connor stood still, mind racing and staring at the busy reception where she just disappeared to get in the cab that was waiting for her outside.

Chris whistled, tablet and coffee in his hands, and broke the spell that held him there glued on the spot.

“Damn, she knows how to pull that off, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Connor.

Chris laughed at Connor’s attempts to reply, and went to his desk where Tina was already waiting with a shit-eating grin and arms folded over her chest. Connor knew she wasn’t going to let this whole scene live down. Probably for life.

Gavin’s sputtered curse made him snap out of it, walking straight to his desk to try to concentrate on his actual job. Richard was back at his desk in front of Detective Reed, face unreadable and completely ignoring Gavin’s jabs. One cold and menacing look from Richard made Gavin shut up and stare at his own computer screen.

Richard was scary. Scary and very sexually frustrated.

Time passed, everything and everyone quieted down (Chris and Tina stopped waggling their eyebrows everytime Connor crossed their stares with his). But Connor had a hunch. It was too quiet. He ventured a look at Richard and frowned. He was concentrating on his screen, but his LED was a rapid-blinking yellow that gave away he was either multitasking like crazy or something was up in his mind. Connor decided to ask about it, since he wasn’t able to concentrate as much as he wanted on the task at hand– wiggling hips and high heels were a good enough distraction, and he couldn’t help but to replay Ona coming to him.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, RK800.” Connor frowned, knowing Richard only retreated to call him that when he was angry or when they tried that thing Ona told them, rolepla– “My apologies. That was uncalled for.”

“Are you sure you are alright?” Connor kept staring at his screen, filling out reports as if he wasn’t having a conversation at the same time. 

“Yes, I am. I’m only checking a few things. I think Miss Boix has the wrong documents.” Connor’s eyes snapped to Richard’s, open wide as the RK900 unit ignored his counterpart’s stare.

“What? But we checked it. Those were correct!”

“It seems there has been a mistake in a section.”

“It cannot be. We checked and double checked, Richard. She cannot have the wrong ones.”

“Maybe you checked it wrong. Are you malfunctioning, Connor?” Connor could feel the cocky tone in Richard’s voice, and for once he was tempted to slap him.

“You checked them with us, RK900. Are you malfunctioning too?” Double slap. Richard went silent and Connor counted it as a win.

“...There is still a mistake. I have to go to where Miss Boix is.”

At that Connor got suspicious. Richard never made a mistake and was proud of being more efficient, better… all the line the marketing team ingrained in his code. But his silence after Connor’s reply, sending back his jab, set up alarms for the RK800. Connor stood up and nonchalantly walked to Richard with some random printed files that were on his desk. Once there, Connor ignored Gavin’s yapping about why did he have two tin cans on his desk, and with the excuse of the files, Connor distracted Richard momentarily from the computer screen.

When Richard turned around and lifted his hand to take the files to check for any mistakes, Connor took his opportunity and forced an interface with the RK900 unit. He was both surprised and scandalised at what he saw.

“That’s against the law, Richard!” he whispered so anyone but them could hear it. 

Gavin shut up and pretended like he was working so he could eavesdrop. He never missed an opportunity to see the two RK models fight. Connor noticed Gavin’s attention and urged the RK900 to stand up and follow him. Gavin clicked his tongue, displeased.

Once free of snooping ears, Connor confronted his successor model.

“What are you thinking, Richard? You cannot hack into the the warrant system and change very sensitive information! Do you have any idea of how many laws are you breaking?

“Quit your whining, Connor. There’s nothing to worry about. No traces, no potential sensitive information leaks, nothing. Just little typos. Honest human mistakes.”

“Quit my–! Little mistakes–!” Connor’s LED was spinning violently yellow, outraged at the way RK900 was totally okay with hacking into the system. For a skirt. He tried a different approach. “You could get her in trouble, Richard. Do you want that?”

At that, Richard frowned. Another win for Connor.

“She is in no danger or trouble, Connor. Do you think I would put her in danger?”

“You hacked into the warrant systems.” Connor deadpanned, raising an eyebrow very much like Richard did. The RK900 unit had the decency to look away.

“Richard, I know that you are as frustrated as I am, but–” Connor never got to finish his sentence. 

Both androids received a message from Ona, followed by a picture.

“Something to keep you guys focused.” 

The picture was another bathroom photo, but this time taken from above. Her sweater had been discarded and the blouse was open, revealing a pretty and lacy white bra Richard had gotten her a week ago. It contrasted beautifully with her honey skin, making both her and the bra stand out. The skirt was pulled up, revealing smooth legs and the strap of a garter belt. So she did wear some after all. The way Ona was biting her bottom lip, playful, coy, and smiling while doing so, made both androids LED spin red.

“The files are being printed.”

“There’s a cab ready waiting outside.”

Ona was in the cafeteria, waiting for the whole court to gather and begin the session. She was studying the papers in hand, sipping her glass of Coke. Two figures appeared in front of her, pulling two chairs to sit, and putting a folder right before her. Ona looked up, frowning at the intrusion.

“Oh! Hello, boys.” Her smile dissolved into another confused frown. “Wait. What the heck are you doing here?”

“I checked the documents you needed for today and there were some problems with them.” Richard explained, as if he wasn’t the cause of those problems. “And we brought the correct ones to you.”

“Wrong? But, we checked. We double and triple checked, in fact.” Connor quickly looked away, finding her can of Coke more interesting. Ona narrowed her eyes, suspicious.

“Nothing to worry about. Everything is in order, Detective.”

“Not to be ungrateful or impertinent, but how come we didn’t notice the mistakes before I left? Imagine I go into court and these documents lose are credibility. Humiliation is not the worst thing that could have happened, you know. This is serious.” Something fishy was happening here so she kept pressing. Guilt was something both androids couldn’t resist, and Connor always broke first. Richard was still too proud and new to deviancy. “Boys?”

Connor looked like he was about to say something, but Richard cut him by speaking first.

“Nothing to worry about, as I said. Just minor typos, but the content is still the same.” Richard finished with a small smile, trying to reassure her. He hoped it worked, Connor was better at human relations and interactions.

“Huh. Who would have guessed that androids could have dyslexia too!” She laughed it off, taking her glass again to take a sip. “Thank you, boys.”

“How long do you have until you have to go in court?” Richard asked, his eyes having an intensity they didn’t have before.

“Uhh… 45 minutes, more or less. Maybe more. The jury is stuck in traffic. Why?”

Richard looked at Connor, and Connor at Richard, having a conversation between them. Ona looked at the two androids before her, confusion growing more and more. 

“Uh, guys?”

Richard stood up.

“Finish your drink and come with us.”

Richard’s tone of voice didn’t leave room for questioning, so she obediently did as told and gathered her papers to put them in her hand bag. She grabbed her coat and folded her in her arm, following them. In the elevator they positioned themselves behind her, looking like two bodyguards. Ona smiled at the people coming into the elevator, saying goodbye as they left. They were alone.

“Be a good girl and follow our orders.” Richard bent over, whispering in her ear. Ona shivered.

They passed a series of corridors and went to one the upper floors, more deserted and less busy than the others. Turning right and then right again, they arrived at the bathrooms. Oh.

Connor pushed open the door, quickly inspecting in case there was someone, but they were alone. Connor nodded at Richard, who nodded in response.

Richard turned her around and pulled her to him, crushing his lips against hers. Ona let out a moan, feeling Richard’s hand squeeze her buttock like he wanted to do for so long, and pulling her even more flush against his body with it. Without freeing her lips, and slipping his tongue inside, Richard walked them both towards Connor, who closed and locked the door behind them. He took her coat and hung it on one of the bathroom hooks, as well as her hand bag, freeing Ona’s hands. She took that opportunity to wrap her arms around Richard’s neck, gripping his cyberlife jacket roughly as the other hand racked through his hair before pulling it. Richard let out a curse as his head followed Ona’s pull, looking with lidded eyes how she was licking her bottom lip and corner of her mouth with a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“You naughty, naughty boys.” she looked at Connor, who hung his own jacket in another empty wall hanger and was hastily popping out the first buttons of his shirt, and bit her lip in anticipation. “All this for a skirt?”

“We had a case to solve, didn’t we?” Connor walked behind her, nuzzling her neck softly, almost innocent, if it weren’t for his wandering hands on her thighs.  “The Case of the Missing Panties. ”

Ona’s breath stuttered when he reached the hem of the skirt, teasing the edge of it. Ona’s hand let go of Richard’s shoulders to hold herself on his chest, being sandwiched as she was right now by the two androids. Richard’s other hand joined the first, but this time, coordinated with Connor, he put them inside the skirt and squeezed her ass, rucking the skirt up on her hips and leaving her skin bare sans for the garter holding the silky thigh-high stockings.

Connor’s fingertips brushed against her exposed hip, smooth and warm skin under his touch. The fabric of the garter was soft and he playfully pulled at the string before letting it go, earning a gasp.

“Naughty, naughty girl.” Richard purred into her ear, nipping the earlobe right after. 

Ona mewled, arching her back as she felt Connor’s fingers tease the outside of her folds. Just on the edge, soaking up his fingers. Richard let go of her earlobe to brush his lips against her neck. Her white curls were tickling his nose, and he smiled at the perfume his olfactory sensors picked up; it was the one he gifted her. But as he went down, he came in contact with the blouse and sweater. Richard grunted, displeased, and let go of her buttocks to tug the offending sweater off. Ona let herself fall on Connor’s chest, his lips kissing her jaw and then her neck. He held her as Ona lifted her arms and Richard pulled off the sweater, leaving it on top of the unused sink.

Immediately, Richard undid the buttons of her blouse until he found the skirt, and he was almost tempted to rip it open, but Richard knew where they were and how Ona had to be presentable later. That tantalizing white lace bra came into view, and Richard let out a soft growl, wetting his lips after. It was a very human action, but since his deviation he found out he had more human quirks than he thought.

“Italian lace, French construction—I knew this piece would look beautiful on you.” His hands cupped her breasts gently, pushing and squeezing the fabric and flesh. Her necklace glued itself to the skin, following the curves of her breasts and up her collarbones. His tongue followed the same path, making her let out a harsh breath.

A quick look into Connor’s eyes and Richard nodded in response.

Richard took her into his arms again, taking a few steps back until she was slightly bent over. Looking over her shoulder, Ona saw Connor sinking to his knees and she couldn’t help but to let out a soft moan. Connor grabbed her buttocks and squeezed them like Richard did first, and then he decided to play with the garter strap again, holding it between his teeth and letting go. The snap and the sound it made was met with a stuttered moan. Connor spread her out, looking directly at how utterly soaked her folds were. He licked his lips in anticipation.

“Were you this wet all this time?” Connor’s voice dropped, arousal coating every syllable. “Thinking about us having our way with you when we couldn’t hold ourselves anymore?” His eyes stared directly into hers, their intensity making her unconsciously clench around nothing.

“Yes. Oh God, yes.” Ona breathed out, biting her lip hard.

“Naughty, dirty tease.” 

Connor bit a round buttock before pulling them apart once more, licking a wide stripe from her clitoris to her entrance. Ona keened, tightening her grip on Richard’s jacket. Connor rubbed his tongue around her soaked entrance, teasing her folds and lightly brushing the tip of his tongue on her clit. Her moans and mewls fueled Connor’s eagerness. He decided to teaser her more, and freed a hand from her ass to tease the sensitive nub while his tongue delved into her. Ona pushed her hips back, trying to get that devilish tongue deeper. She needed more and she needed it now. Connor leaned slightly back, licking his lips and enjoying his mouth and chin being completely soaked in her juices. His fingers teased her outer folds again, running up and down and making her more desperate to have them inside.

“So desperate already?”  With his sleeve, he wiped his chin clean of what slick his tongue couldn’t clean, never looking away from her glazed eyes. Ignoring her pleas, Connor turned his eyes at the RK900 model staring them down. “Do you think she deserves it?”

Ona lifted her eyes to look at Richard, who at first glance looked as if he was unaffected by it.  Judging by the sizeable tent in his trousers, however, he was more than happy with this whole situation. Although, sometimes he liked to be a little bit cruel, and he always liked Ona begging. But the internal countdown reminded him they didn’t have as much time as he wanted, so it would be sufficient for now. They still had the night for themselves.

“Only if she asks nicely for it.” 

Ona groaned loudly at that, closing her eyes to gather her wits. Connor didn’t stop moving his fingers, and even withdrew a little to tease her entrance with them, not letting more than his finger tips for her to squeeze. It was maddening, even more when Connor’s tongue returned with it’s relentless rhythm.  Ona tried so hard to sputter out a reply, but it was hard with all the moans and groans that passed through her lips.

Connor gave her a breather and she seized that opportunity.

“Please, please Richard, Connor.” She pressed her breasts against Richard’s chest, the rough fabric of the jacket and his black shirt rubbing against her bare skin and lace. It felt arousing, to be almost naked and both androids still dressed, but she had to play her cards well. She knew Richard liked the powerplay. But Connor also couldn’t resist her begging, even less her pouty lips and imploring eyes. So she looked back at him. “Connor please. I will be good, I need you. I need you both.”

Ona arched her back, knowing that the view Connor was gifted with was her most convincing argument. She saw him look at her dripping entrance, licking his lips in anticipation. 

“Well?” With a last swipe of his fingers, he left her fate for Richard to decide while he licked his fingers clean.

“I think she does.” Ona exhaled, pleased that her efforts paid off. “Do the honors, Connor.”

“Gladly.”

Connor stood up, quickly undoing his belt and trousers. Ona wiggled her hips, her ass moving side to side to urge Connor to go faster. She could feel her slick dripping down her inner thigh. Connor grabbed Ona’s hip to make her be still, taking his cock in the other. Ona’s breath hitched in anticipation, but her disappointed groan made Connor chuckle. He teased her entrance with the head, rubbing up and down and letting his length be covered in her juices. Ona pushed back, trying to impale herself on him, but Connor held her still. Richard tutted.

“Is this how good girls behave?” Ona’s whole body quivered, resting her forehead on him. She was dizzy with want, she needed Connor inside her and Richard to fill her up too. She wanted so much and they were doing absolutely nothing.

“Please.” 

Connor decided it was good enough, and he positioned himself on her entrance. But for her cheekiness, he buried himself to the hilt. Ona moaned out loud, her knees buckling. Connor let out a soft groan too, bottoming out. Richard held her, watching Connor’s cock buried deeply in her. It made him twitch, knowing he wouldn’t last long without doing so himself.

They couldn’t waste more time, so Connor got to it. He began a fast pace, pounding into her with the efficiency and power only an android could achieve, and Ona couldn’t help but to hold onto Richard for dear life, short and breathy whimpers coming out of her mouth. The squelching sounds only aroused the three of them further, its filthiness fueling Connor’s lust. Then, when Ona was a moaning mess, mewling and clenching down on him, they executed Richard’s plan. Connor abruptly changed his pace, slowing down to grind down on her, making her gasp and slap a hand on Connor’s arm to try to gather her wits. It was a maddening sensation, to feel him so deep.

Connor made her stand straight again, her back on his chest and her ass grinding down on him. They were tiny movements, only to keep her on edge, and Connor took that opportunity to turn her head to the mirror on their side. Ona whimpered at the sight of her with Connor’s cock buried in her, skirt hiked high and the way her breasts bounced to Connor’s small thrusts. She was the picture of debauchery. Even Connor looked like he was out of breath and he was a goddamn android.

“You like what you see?” Connor purred in her ear, tugging at her lobe. His hand wandered down, teasing her soaked clit. “You do, judging by how wet you are.”

“Don’t let her come yet.” Richard was mimicking Connor, unfastening his belt and trousers. At the sound of the zipper, Ona looked his way, watching Richard pull himself free from his underwear. 

Cyberlife made sure the RK900 unit was bigger, and it seemed they stood by that fact in every aspect of the word. Ona swallowed down the spit in her mouth, eager to have it stuffed full. Richard stroked himself lightly, only to make it easier for her, and motioned Connor to let her bend over again, further down this time. Connor stopped his thrusts, grabbing her hips with both his hands and let her fall down back on Richard. His hand threaded through her hair, grabbing a fist of it but without pulling it, just to be here. He knew Ona liked it.

“Be a good girl and open wide.” She did so obediently, looking up to see his pupils blown wide. Ona counted it as a win of her own; Richard so out of control was a feat and also a huge turn-on.

The taste was different from a human, she thought, but not bad different. Ona liked the taste, the feel of her tongue dragging against it, the texture. But what she loved most was how well it filled her, be it her mouth or any of her holes. Richard didn’t let her tease him like she always does, and with Connor’s firm grip, her own on his jacket, and himself on her jaw and hair, he let himself sink down into her, groaning at the feel of her tongue under his cock. Connor resumed his pistoning, slowly at first but quickening his pace as Ona took Richard’s cock easier and deeper. He felt Ona get wetter, and the filthy noises and the slapping of skin against skin made him groan, moving one of his hands to hold her by her shoulder. He wouldn’t last long, engulfed in such a tight and wet heat.

Ona felt herself close. Connor was hitting all the right spots, and Richard fucking her mouth earnestly made her moan around his girth. She flushed at the thought of being used to satiate two very lusty androids, but she knew her plan worked well by the way they were jack-rabbiting into her, Connor grunting and letting out more breathy noises, and Richard whispering all kinds of filth.

She let go one of her hands on Richard’s jacket to bury it between her legs, needing to touch herself. She rubbed her clit, trying to follow their frenzied pace and send herself into a spiral of pleasure, but she was not quite there yet. She needed a final push, a little something. She was so close, fuck!

“You look so good like this, sucking my cock.” Richard kept talking filth, watching how Ona hollowed her cheeks to add more pressure to his cock. This was a dead give away that Ona needed to come, and Gods, it felt divine. “You always take us both so well, so good. Such a good girl.”

Richard received a message from Connor. He agreed with his predecessor, he was close too. But also, their time was almost up. Such a pity.

“Good girls deserve rewards.” It was Connor this time, taking in the sight of her ass hitting against him at every thrust, the crumpled skirt pulled up to her hips revealing the garter belt and the straps pulled taut against her skin.

“You need to come, don’t you, teacup? Will you come for me? For us?” Richard pulled slightly at her hair, making her take a sharp inhale and moan around him, almost gagging when she lost her concentration. She frantically rubbed her clit, feeling the fire on her loins about to spread all over her body, like a spring about to be released. 

“That’s it, fuck. I’m so close, darling. I want to feel you come over me.” Connor’s heated words and a last pull of her hair made her moan out loud, as she felt herself surrender to the maddening sensation of euphoria that was about to happen.

She came clenching down on Connor’s cock, letting out a loud and drawn moan around Richard’s cock, making the RK900 unit groan in turn. Ona felt Connor go still, buried deep in her as she felt him release inside her, twitching. Her name moaned in such a breathy way made her whimper. She would never tire of hearing it. 

Richard came last, emptying his load on her mouth. Making sure every last drop was on her tongue, he pulled out, watching her lips close around his head to give him a small kiss before pulling completely off. Connor brought her up again, hugging her from behind as he sweetly kissed her exposed neck. Ona swallowed Richard’s come, winking as she did so. Richard’s cock twitched in a valiant effort, knowing he could cancel the refractory period at any moment.

They only had ten minutes left. Maybe another day. Or tonight. They were not done yet.

Connor walked them back to the wall, grabbing tissues to clean her up the moment he pulled out of her well-filled hole. He efficiently wiped her clean, making sure there was none left on her tights. Richard tucked himself back into his trousers and walked towards them, taking over Connor’s duty to right her clothes while he cleaned and tucked himself back into his trousers too. Richard smiled at her, one of his tiny and reserved smiles, as he cupped her face and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Ona smiled back, knowing what it meant.

Connor handed her the discarded sweater, helping her put it back on and sneaking a squeeze that earned him a giggle.

“Behave, you oaf.”

“Says the one who has been teasing us and sending pictures.”

“Shh, payback.” Ona went to inspect herself in the mirror. Her hair wasn’t that bad, it could pass as her messy curls being just that, messy. But her lipstick smudged, dang it.

Ona grabbed paper towels and cleaned her face, reapplying her lipstick after. When she finished, she looked at Richard and grabbed more paper towels.

“Maybe I should invest in a long-lasting lipstick when I’m with you both.”

“Where’s the fun in leaving lipstick kiss marks, then?” Connor held her coat and handbag, smiling. “You still have five minutes left. We have to hurry.” Ona thanked him and rummaged through her handbag. She frowned.

“Where are the…” Ona turned around to see Connor with the matching white lace panties in his hand. Both RK units sported smirks on their lips and a mischievous glint in their eyes. “Oh no. Don’t you dare.”

“Oh yes, teacup.”

“Payback.” Connor winked at her, putting the panties in his inner jacket pocket.

#dbh #detroit become human #rk800 #rk900 #rk800 x oc #rk900 x oc #rk800 x oc x rk900 #filth #pure filth #smut #filth anon #I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT BECAUSE WHEW #Anonymous #ask

[luna-almighty-god]

Guardian Angel N°10 [The culmination of your mistakes. The mistake of your life]

This is chapter ten !

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

Have a good read!

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

The living room was poorly furnished, with only the most important pieces of furniture such as a sofa and a shelf full of books. The rest was empty and dusty, as if the place was not even worth maintaining. This was probably the case. After all, it was only a makeshift shelter, a place they would soon leave and flee to a safer place, before danger caught up with them again and forced them to do the same thing again.

Dream weighed down gently, gazing at the pages of his novel without being able to concentrate. Another night he didn't sleep, another night of biting anxiety, of detestable anguish.

“Worrying won't get you anywhere.” he heard abruptly.

He barely jumped, grumbling with discontent at this unwelcome coming. Though the term was a bit strong... he simply did not wish to see Cross at this moment.

“Go to bed.” the guardian told with exasperation.

But the monochrome ignored him to come and sit beside him, leaning nonchalantly against the backrest while darting his one valid eye on the prince of dreams.

“What's bothering you? he asked, although he already knew the answer.

- Nyx is long gone, but nothing has changed. How can you expect me not to worry about that?”

The swordsman looked up at the ceiling:

“Who knows?

- Don't be so phlegmatic! He's still your pupil, and my nephew! Shit, what if something had happened to him? What if the portal had been unstable? What if... What if he was erased from this reality? Oh my God, what if... God...”

He took his head in his hands, and took a sigh from Cross:

“Dream, I was there. I saw what was on the other side of the gate. Don't worry, he got to the other side safely.

- You can't go safely through the past, damn it Cross!”

And as each time the guard got up sharply, starting to walk a hundred paces, waving his arms excessively, his eyes dark, his teeth clenched:

“If something happened to him, I won't get over it! I promised myself that I would support him, that I would relieve him of a burden!

- Maybe he succeeded, but it just created another timeline, without touching ours.

- Maybe it did! But how do we know that? Damn it, you should have gone with him! You should have!!”

Cross looked up at the sky:

“Don't scream, you'll wake Lux. And then he...”

He got up, approached the guard gently to make him stop moving:

“...do you really think I could have left you when you were facing Dust and Killer? Dream ... the multiverse is completely corrupted ... ...you and I have lost our families, our friends... I've... I've already lost Epic. It's just you and Lux and Nyx. We're alone, completely alone... and if I hope Nyx is happy in another timeline, I can never bring myself to abandon my husband and daughter.”

He took him in his arms, hugging him gently:

“... Even if it means going down with our multiverse ... I want to be with my family to the end.”

Dream responded feverishly to his embrace, his soul clenched.

If only... If only he could have stopped Nightmare in time... if only he could have prevented all this... there wouldn't have been so much loss, so much suffering, so much regret. The multiverse had already begun its downfall the moment Ink had let himself be corrupted by the black apples, but now that Error was dead in turn...

There was only a storm of miscodes left. Codes that were nibbling away at the last remnants of their world. The question was whether they, or the bad guys, would finish them off first...

*** ***

Horror frowned, perplexed, as he let go of the meat that was grilling in the pan. He wanted to believe that Nyx was bad at cooking, but not knowing how to hold a knife ...

“Nyx, are you all right?”

His doubt was confirmed when he saw his comrade stretching slightly, but as always, he took back his impenetrable mask and that false smile that was beginning to unbear the cannibal:

“Yes, I'm all right! I'm just having a little trouble with the vegetables.

- If you held your knife differently too...”

Horror approached him and stole the kitchen tool to better position it in his palm:

“You see, it's like this...”

He paused, perceiving from the corner of his eye the slight grimace of his apprentice. This worried him even more as he began to guess what was going on. Increasingly annoyed, he released the knife and grabbed Nyx's hand frankly, wrenching a cry of surprise and pain from him. Before the drawer could free himself, Horror rolled up his sleeve, revealing a wrist in poor condition, wrapped in a half-untied bandage as if it had been done in haste.

“Wh- I'm dreaming! What the hell happened to you?”

Nyx came out quickly, too abruptly as he grimaced again, aggravating the pain in his wrist. He brought his hand against him and looked away, suddenly feverish. Too feverish.

“N-Nothing...”

His stuttering, weak voice set Horror on fire, and he had to take a deep breath to avoid anger and to stay in control of his actions. He didn't insist, at least not verbally, as he came and grabbed Nyx by the arm - the one that wasn't attached to the broken wrist - and suddenly teleported him to the bathroom.

If Nyx gave him a confused look, Horror didn't explain himself and simply forced him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. Then he turned to the cupboards and searched them thoroughly, only to come out of the bandages a few minutes later.

“You're out of luck ... the cannibal growled as he walked back to Nyx. You've stumbled upon the only castle where no inhabitant is gifted with healing magic.”

The drawer remained silent, simply watching him take his wrist more delicately to remove the half-open bandage.

“Did you put that bandage on yourself?" asked the cook.

- ... Yes, I did.

- ... Damn it. . . You're as bad at cooking as you are at caring. Worse than Killer.”

Nyx laughed, which made Horror smile. Finally, the black-boned skeleton regained some of his good humour, even if it wasn't that yet.

“What's up? Are you going to tell me how you got hurt?”

The cartoonist massaged the nape of his neck:

“You might laugh...

- Eh, why? I promise, I'm not laughing!

- Mm... I was on my bed and I wanted to draw. I leaned over to the bedside table to grab my notebook, but I slipped and smashed on the floor.”

There was a great silence before Horror, looking hallucinated, burst out laughing:

“Oh shit, are you serious? You're even more clumsy than I thought! You'd never think of breaking your wrist like that!”

Nyx had an embarrassed smile. Embarrassment that passed for shame to the cannibal, when in truth the one with the black bones felt guilty for lying like that. But he could never have confessed the truth to anyone...

*** ***

Nightmare stayed for a long time watching the files on his desk, but he left them there phlegmatically, realizing that he could not concentrate. How could he? Nyx's case preoccupied him, preoccupied him too much.

It was hard to admit, and to tell the truth he would probably never admit it to anyone, but the master of woes had become gently attached to the damned cartoonist. And yet, the Creator alone knew how much Nyx could bear it! Seriously ... he came out of nowhere, was not known to anyone, but seemed to know everything about everything, as if he had studied every monster on the multiverse! Well, Nightmare was probably exaggerating a bit, but to see that Nyx knew him - a bit too much - well when he knew nothing about himself was ... terribly frustrating.

Not to mention this barrier around Nyx, a kind of mask, a role that the artist was giving himself. As if he was hiding his true thoughts, his true purpose, behind all sorts of tricks, spells ...

Yes, there was magic. Nightmare wasn't stupid: by noticing that he didn't feel Nyx's emotions, he understood that Nyx was using a spell, a terribly powerful spell that exceeded the power of the nightmare master.

One more mystery about the skeleton with the grey scarf.

And if that's all it was... Nightmare was willing to believe that Nyx was more powerful than he let on. But... from there to blocking his mind?

For no matter how hard Nightmare tried, he had to face the fact that Nyx did not dream. Every living being had a dream bubble at bedtime. A bubble that Nightmare could see and control, a bubble in which a dream, a nightmare, or simply nothing was diffused.

But the Nyx bubble didn't exist. Nightmare searched for it every night, waiting for Nyx to go to sleep, but it was nowhere to be found.

As if Nyx did not sleep.

But it was impossible. Everyone was asleep, skeletons included.

But then... (Sighs) Didn't Nyx look exhausted all the time?

It was true that his black bones perfectly concealed his dark circles.

But ...

Nightmare growled.

He had to get to the bottom of it.

*** ***

[Looks at me]

Shut him up...

[I love you, my angel]

Shut him up!

[I'll always be here]

Wha....

[I'll always be there for y...]

SHUT UP! SHUT HIM UP!

Nyx opened his eyes, too quickly to relate to reality, too quickly for his vision to get used to the darkness.

[It was dark. All dark]

Terror made him speechless, he got up hastily, took his legs in the blanket, fell backwards and felt his shoulder crack against the ground.

[Black, still black]

He ignored the pain, ignored the burning, the inferno of his soul, to rise up with uncontrollable trembling, erratic breathing, white dots dancing before his eyes, a sign of his confused spirit being tormented again by darkness.

He threw himself on the bedside table, had great difficulty in lighting the lamp as his hands trembled.

He was suffocating.

[He needed it]

The sob escaped him in spite of himself.

[WHERE WAS HIS FUCKING BAG?!]

He turned his head towards the office, beamed there instantly.

Using his magic made him twist, made him even more unstable than he already was.

[An apple]

He felt more than he saw the crack on his soul, the crack that spread a little more over his poor inverted heart.

[WHERE WERE HIS APPLES?]

His fingers couldn't find anything. The pain grew stronger, as did the white flashes that kept dazzling him.

He spilled his bag on the ground, in a din that seemed far away, too far away.

Stormy flashes, flashes of memories.

[His birth, a mistake]

He threw himself to the ground, nervously rummaging among the spilled objects.

[Desperate Ink, to the point of accepting a black apple]

Lack of sleep is fatal to health. The mind starts playing with us, deluding us. What is the dream, what is the reality?

Nyx didn't know. He never knew.

[The years of torture and rejection]

[Fighting Continues]

[Plum]

[His Plum]

[His parents]

[ERROR!]

New Flash

And Ink, whose wards had now disappeared, reaped the joy of his son's distress:

“Ah... ahah ... Pathetic and miserable... so this is what you have inherited from me... ?”

The fracture sounded like a mirage, a distant sound. A distant sound but yet so close, too close, too violent.

Plum's neck had just been broken.

Then there was nothing but dust, and the frightened look of Nyx. His gaze turned grey, empty of all emotion.

If he had not been born, the conflict between Ink and Error would not have become so serious. Killer would not have left Nightmare for Color.

If he hadn't been born, his parents wouldn't have continued their unhealthy relationship thinking that they only had this left.

If he hadn't been born, Nightmare wouldn't have been desperate, not so desperate as to upset the already fragile balance of the multiverse by corrupting the majority of universes. He wouldn't have taken possession of Underlust, he wouldn't have killed all its inhabitants except Plum.

If he hadn't been born... Plum wouldn't have joined the Badlands by force. He wouldn't have gotten dragged into this, attached himself to it, died.

And the best irony in all this?

Plum didn't even love him. Never had. But then again... Nyx was the only form of tenderness in the castle. So Lust had fallen back on him.

But Nyx had never needed to read his feelings to know how much Plum disliked him.

For ... Nyx was the son of Nightmare, the master of nightmares. As well as Ink's son, the former guardian, the traitor.

Nyx was the mistake of a lifetime.

But if Plum didn't love him... Nyx had sincerely loved him. From the depths of his soul.

“You...” he stammered, still on the ground, watching unbelievingly as Plum's clothes fell to the ground.

Ink looked at him, leaned his foot a little harder against his skull:

“What, are you going to cry now? Do it Nyx, cry! That's all you're good for anyway. You're only good at sobbing on your own s...”

The Creator stepped back sharply, dodging in extremis the tentacle that had just sprung from the ground, which had failed to perforate his body. He shuddered at the sudden drop in temperature, took another step backwards, lowering his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed.

The magical concentration around Nyx made him yelp. An unhealthy, feverish, trembling magic that accompanied the bitter tears that rolled down the young skeleton's cheeks, his bitter tears that blurred his vision but did not hide his blinking pupils.

Red, grey, red, blue, red, grey, red, blue, red, red, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED.

BLACK.

Nyx exploded:

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Ink petrified, his brush exploded against the ground. He screamed as his patella shattered, shattered cleanly by another tentacle. Falling one knee to the ground, the painter was suddenly propelled to the ceiling, spat out a sheaf of blood before being smashed against the floor.

Nyx was no longer in control, cowering over himself as he continued to scream, the negativity escaping him far too quickly to contain it.

His eyes turned red again. He looked at Ink with his red pupils, dangerous, threatening.

Another tentacle sprang up, grabbed the painter by the neck. But this time Ink had the presence of mind to teleport despite his weakness.

Nyx turned sharply, intercepted the punch with his arms. Ink, who thought he had him on his backside, growled loudly before he teleported his brush in his hand, spraying paint on his son.

The younger one hiccupped, suddenly finding his hands bound by chains, before Ink hit him with his handle, sending him crashing into the wall behind.

He was in the castle room, in another timeline, in another TIMELINE!

Nyx knew he was going to die.

He was out of apples, he was out of apples!

Ink was going to finish him off.

WHERE WERE HIS APPLES?!

But through his blurry vision, Nyx perceived this intrusive blue thread. This wire that he had never seen before, but whose owner he knew.

He found one. An apple. His last apple.

Error immobilized Ink, his livid face, as if he couldn't believe the spectacle he was watching, which he couldn't grasp as his little artist had turned in such a way.

He stuck his fangs in the black pulpit, sweeping away his last glimmers of lucidity, his mind finishing to twist when he felt the oppressive and foul embrace of anger, of resentment, materialize around his soul to tear it apart.

A cold sweat covered him, gravity grabbed him from all sides. He felt his body fall heavily, his skull hit the ground.

“Who are you, kid?”

Nyx didn't answer. Ink did it for him:

“A HORROR, A MISTAKE, THAT'S WHAT HE IS! THIS IS WHAT HE WILL BE FOREVER!”

Nyx groaned piteously, trying to regain his senses, to return to the present moment. But the memories were still playing out, Error's eyes were resting on him.

“I am Error, the Destroyer of UA.”

Nyx looked at him, half-conscious.

“I'm gonna get you out of this hellhole.”

Nyx blinked.

He looked up at the ceiling.

The silence was soft, terribly soft, after the inner screams of his subconscious.

He blew, clutched his tunic to the place of his soul.

His seizure was over... but for how much longer?

His energy completely drained, he turned his head softly, his pupils lingering on his things strewn about the floor.

Tears came, less painful than the previous ones. A form of fatality, of sinister acceptance.

[He ran out of apples.]

We knocked on his door with strength, drive, will. A noise that sounded like a terrible death knell for Nyx, who got up painfully and eagerly, hiding his objects under his bed with a clever turn of his foot. He dragged himself to the door, dressed in his impenetrable mask, with a smile that he knew to be increasingly false.

"Good evening, Nightmare," he greeted his host with a casual greeting.

The master of the house was not at all reluctant and entered the room without the slightest hesitation, sweeping it with his gaze before returning to Nyx:

“You're not asleep.”

An observation, not a question. The cartoonist laughed:

“That's right. But I was planning to go to bed soon.

- I'm not talking about now.”

The guest swallowed, didn't have the opportunity to answer that Nightmare's aura was more worrying, intimidating. For Nightmare was like that: he hated not understanding, that one thing escaped him:

“You're not sleeping. You don't sleep. Otherwise I would have seen it.”

Nyx tilted his head to the side, mimicking astonishment, then forced a laugh:

“It's true I don't sleep much, but when l-“

Nightmare's gaze grew harder and colder as he snapped his tongue:

“Don't take me for a stupid Nyx. I'm not able to feel your emotions, but I can still read people's eyes. And you lie like a little cheeky.”

Nyx felt faint. But he was lucky, this young skeleton. As lucky as a kid in a situation could be. Lucky that Nightmare showed up after his seizure. Lucky that he ate a black apple before confronting the master of misfortune. Lucky to be emotionally stable again, enough not to break down, not to reveal his weakness as he did in front of Horror.

His quiet smile of each day returned.

Nyx looked as confident as ever:

“Nightmare, I'm sorry if I'm upsetting you so much. But are you sure you're all right? Wouldn't your power fail when the baby comes?

- Wha...?

- Insomnia is adorable... but what energy he has! You and Killer must be exhausted, right? If you need help, I'm here, you know? I love the kid, I'm willing to babysit him for you once in a while!”

Nightmare blinked, not understanding how the discussion could have turned out this way. He was about to go back to the initial subject but Nyx cut him off again, leaving to retrieve his abandoned notebook on the bedside table:

“I could teach him to draw, he has a lot of potential! Look!”

The master of the house was slightly startled, surprised that the paper was put in front of his eyes. In spite of himself, he found himself looking at his son's scribbles. And even though it wasn't high art, he was quickly moved without even realizing it.

Nyx had a sweet laugh:

“Killer was talking about a new restaurant the other day... Why don't you go there tomorrow? I'll keep Insomnia with Dust!

- ... I'll ... Suppose we could do that, yes.”

Nyx walked him to the door with a smile:

"It'll be great! You're a couple, but you can't let up! Isn't there anything more beautiful than two lovers seducing each other every day? »

Nightmare got a little worse, not even realizing that he had reached the corridor. Nyx waved to him:

“We'll confirm all this tomorrow! Good night!”

He closed the door ... and Nightmare opened his eyes.

Seriously, though... Nyx managed to get him out?

Again?

He grunted, massaging the bridge of his nose, before turning his attention to the drawings he'd kept in his hand. Was Nyx right? Was he simply too exhausted after all? As much by his couple as by his child?

He grumbled. Nyx had turned the tables a little too easily... but it was true that Nightmare needed a break.

He turned around and went to his room, where Killer must have been waiting for him, sleeping soundly.

Yeah, well... tomorrow he was going out with his husband. Then he'd confront Nyx.

Anyway, there was no rush...

...isn't it?

===

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Dreamtale ->  Joku

Dust -> Ask DustTale

Error -> LoverOfPiggies

Ink -> Myebi

Killer -> Rahafwabas

Cross and Lux -> Jakei

Insomnia -> EnaPouyou

#vantablack child #bad sanses #fanfiction #Guardian Angel #dream #cross #nightmare #undertale #sans #errink #nightkiller #inkmare #vantablack #nyx

[ijustwant2write]

A Learning Curve-Halfdan The Black x Reader

(GIF credit to @ithappensoffstage​)

Masterlist

Prompt List

Requested by @charming-merlin: ‘*shy waving* hello :3 as you may know I'm a mess for Halfdan and I was wondering if you could write something. I thought about Halfdan fell in love with Y/N but she's very shy and don't know how to act bc she doesn't has any experience with man. He shows her how it all works but needs to remind himself again and again to slow things down and don't be too fast and harsh as usual. Doesn't know if you could do it, anything Halfdan related would make me so happy 🥺💞 Hope you're having a good day!’

Characters: Halfdan The Black x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Slight swearing, smut, fluff

                                         *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Where’s your cloak?!” my grandmother shrieked as I opened the door.

Sighing, I turned to look at her sat at the table, her angry eyes glaring at me.“We’ve spoken of this grandmother, I am not betrothed anymore, remember? I don’t need to hide myself from other men until I’m married.”

She thought about it, grumbling,“Still, you shouldn’t be flaunting yourself about.”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to retaliate.“I don’t think I get that much attention on me anyway. I must say, I haven’t noticed any men falling at my feet.”

“Well, they should be. You know you’re a beautiful woman.”

Her kind words stumped me. My grandmother wasn’t cruel, she was very loving, but I hadn’t expected this exchange to turn into something sweet. 

“Oh, thank you grandmother. I won’t be long, I’m just getting the final ingredients for mother tonight.”

She lazily waved at me before I shut the door behind me, passing by some neighbours that were chatting outside. We briefly greeted each other, smiling politely. It was a lot quieter as the evening grew closer. The market would soon be closing for the night, but it was always a good time to go if you were needing a few items. I had never been fond of being swept up in the crowds, people always pushed in front of me, but I never spoke up. I didn’t want the confrontation, I would only lose anyway. Relief flooded through me seeing how there were little to no people around, immediately heading to the stalls I needed to buy from. However, the time to myself was short lived; after buying some ingredients, I noticed the stall holder’s expression change to that of nervousness. Glancing behind me, I saw a man standing there. I quickly realised that it was Halfdan, King Harald’s brother.

My head whipped back around, clutching my basket closer to me. Hopefully he had just been staring, hanging around for no reason. Moving to the next stall, I tried to stop my hand from shaking as I paid again, still feeling his eyes on me. I told myself I was being stupid, that he would have no interest in someone like myself. But I was wrong, flinching when I saw how close he had got to me. Instead of acknowledging him, I carried on walking, my stomach twisting when I realised he was now following me.

“How come I haven’t seen you here before?” he started, showing up beside me.

“Uh, I-I d-don’t come here m-much.” I stuttered, avoiding eye contact.

“That is a shame.”

For some reason I stopped walking. I know I didn’t want to leave the market place, as there were still people around, it felt slightly safer than returning home; the paths could be empty, and he could do anything to me.

“Why are you s-sp-speaking to me?”

He looked confused.“Because you are beautiful.”

“I’m not a whore!” I exclaimed, scared that he was thinking that way.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Were...were you not thinking that?”

“No, you hold yourself too well.”

“So, what do you want?”

He shrugged his shoulders.“To speak with you.”

“That is it?”

“If that’s all you should allow me to do.” he smirked, and I involuntarily scoffed, fear rising in me as it slipped out of my mouth.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that-”

“Why are you apologising?” 

“I was rude to you.”

“And I was not to you?” there was a hint of humour in his voice.

I stepped around him.“I must be getting back, my family will wonder where I am.”

“Will you be back?” he called after me.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe. I...I am not sure.” 

“Can I at least have a name?”

I didn’t respond, my heart was racing so fast that it was thumping in my ears. My feet swiftly walked me back home, I must have been going faster than I thought because I found myself at my house in no time. Glancing around, I checked that Halfdan hadn’t followed me. But why would he? If he wanted a woman, he could easily go get one somewhere else. I wasn’t going to be used for such activities and talked about the next day whilst people turned their noses up at me. My mother thanked me as I handed her the ingredients, before I gave my father any remaining money. My grandmother was still sat at the table, eyeing me up and down not so subtly.

“(Y/N), you seem very red in the face. Are you feeling well?” she asked.

“Yes, there is just a slight chill outside.” I lied.

“I told you to take your cloak.”

“Mother,” my own mother interrupted,“she is her own woman. We are no longer connected to that...man that thought he had a hold over my daughter.”

“Please can we not talk about him?” I rushed. 

“Sorry,” mother brushed my hair back, kissing my head as she sympathetically smiled at me,“there is no more talk of him.”

“You’ve met someone!” grandmother gasped, pointing a finger at me.

“Mother, what are you talking about?”

“There’s that same look in her eyes, the look she had for...well, him.”

I sighed.“I didn’t meet anyone.”

“You did!” mother gasped.“You always itch behind her ear when you lie, have done since you were a child.”

I knew there was no point lying anymore, I had always been terrible at it.“I-I did meet someone, technically, but we talked for a brief moment. It doesn’t mean anything!”

“You never know, the Gods have mysterious ways to bring people together.”

“Down by the market? Oh yes, very mysterious.” grandmother mocked.

“It...it was no one.”

Mother placed her hands on her hips.“Who is he?”

I took a deep breath, not prepared for their reactions.“It’s Halfdan. As in, King Harald’s brother Halfdan.”

Silence.

No one even moved. I felt like I should have repeated myself, until I saw eyes flickering. Daring to turn around, I cringed at the sight of my father. He was hard to read in this moment, it looked like a mixture of shock, anger and confusion.

“The dowry will have to be a much higher price.” grandmother broke the silence.

My parents tried to contain their laughter, failing in that and giving in to grandmother’s joke (though I’m sure she was being ultimately serious). I cracked a smile, glad that the tension had relaxed, hopefully the topic would change. Much to my dismay, the focus remained on me. They bombarded me with questions; what did he ask me, where did we meet, what mood did he seem to be in, was his brother there? I answered truthfully, thinking that they would grow bored, but it had the total opposite effect. They said (more like demanded) that if he approached me again, I was to put aside my foolish shyness and see if he was truly interested in me, and not just, in my own father’s words, what was between my legs.

They knew I wouldn’t leave the house and miraculously bump into him unless I was headed somewhere where Halfdan would likely be. I grew very annoyed at the amount of times my family told me to go out, using excuses like the market again, or going to a neighbour to give/ask for something. However, I was going to be seeing him a lot sooner than I thought.

"My beautiful woman has returned." I jumped as Halfdan said behind me.

"Halfdan." I mumbled, nodding my head at him.

It was obvious that the people passing by were staring, wanting to see if there was a story here for them to gossip about later. I kept my head down, hoping no one I knew had seen me. Continuing to walk, I diverted us down a smaller path, one that wasn't so busy.

"Trying to sneak off somewhere?" he teased.

"I did not want prying eyes on us." I stated.

"You are ashamed to be seen with me?"

"No, that is the wrong word."

"Then why have you been avoiding me? You have not come out of hiding for days."

Standing behind a pen, we were now away from everyone, no one should come back here. I sighed, pushing my hair behind my ear, still too scared to look at him.

"Don't you know how much attention I gain if I am seen with you? My family would be the talk of Kattegat."

"So reputation is more important?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"It sounds like it."

My lips were twitching into a smile at his stubbornness. It wasn't arrogant, it was somehow humorous to me. He smiled when I did, taking in a sharp breath before speaking again.

"Please, just give me a chance. I will show you that there is nothing to be worried about."

And I actually agreed.

Well, my family had been over the moon at the proposition. The first time, Halfdan had invited me to where he was staying, he had somehow received his own place (I thought he would be with his brother), and I was shocked at the effort he had put in, or rather, his thralls. In front of the fire, multiple furs were laid on the floor, an array of foods spread out around it. It was adorable how Halfdan thought it was too much from my reaction, though I quickly changed his mind when I gushed over it. We had talked about our lives, laughed, flirted; but when it came to getting intimate, I was stumped.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" he whispered, his breath fanning over my lips.

I held eye contact with him."I've... I've never kissed anyone before."

His eyebrows furrowed."How has no one kissed those lips?"

I was blushing, deciding to shrug as a response.

His hand cradled my cheek."Don’t worry, I can show you."

We had kissed for a majority of that night, and I became more and more confident, until he started to lay me down. I went with it, wondering if I could really go this far. He started to grind on me, and I did so back, not minding this so much, it was simple to do. But as soon as his hand started to travel down my leg, I froze, accidentally yelping out. That's when I reiterated that this was the first time I had kissed a man, and he finally understood. This was where things would end, surely?

It did not.

Halfdan took me riding through the forests, we went drinking together in and out of public, I had dinner with him multiple times. Never did he once pressure me into anything, just asking for kisses to bide his time. I had been surprised by this too, especially after the stories I heard about him. He was a warrior, a savage, he took what he wanted whenever he wanted it. Women had spoken of his rendezvous, how animal-like he was. And that scared me.

Once again, we were relaxing at his, ending up lying down on the bed. We were facing each other, hands intertwined. I had been quiet all night, and I knew this, Halfdan had noticed too. There was doubt on my mind, doubt about the decision I was about to make.

"What is wrong? You have hardly spoken tonight." Halfdan asked.

I hesitated."Halfdan, you've been so patient with me. After all I heard of you, before I knew the real you, I did not expect such a romantic side to come out."

He smiled."What are you saying?"

Not knowing how to put it into words, I simply leaned forwards, initiating a passionate kiss. Halfdan instantly wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him. I responded by rolling on top of him, hands holding my up slightly on his chest. My friends had exchanged stories about their sex lives, and I was trying to remember all the details, though I had trouble concentrating on anything other than nerves. Before I could even attempt to do anything, Halfdan strongly pushed me onto my back, shocking me; he didn’t seem to notice, tucking his head into my neck as he began kissing and sucking at it. I writhed beneath him, unsure what to do with my body, just knowing I was enjoying the sensations pulsing through me. One hand gripped onto his shoulder, the other on the back of his head, moans loudly escaping my mouth. I almost relaxed more into it when his hands started wandering. He was quick to start ruffling up my skirts, exposing my legs (and almost more of me) when I sprung up into a sitting position, Halfdan shuffling back.

“What? What is it?” Halfdan stressed, worried about me.

“S-sorry, I-”

“(Y/N), if you don’t want to do this-”

“No! I do! It’s just...you know I’ve never experienced anything like this. Could we take it slower maybe?”

He quietly sighed, reaching for my hand.“I am sorry (Y/N). I have not been...slow with a woman in a long time. But if this makes you more comfortable, then this is how we will do it. Also,” he gently pecked me on the lips,“if that means savouring every moment with you and your body, I am more than happy to abide.”

My cheeks were definitely flushed at this point, from the heat we made and from his comment. Feeling safer, I boldly crawled forward, slowly straddling him. Pulling up my skirt so that from the thigh down I was exposed, I relished the look in Halfdan’s eyes, loving the way his hands caressed my skin. As we kissed again, he circled his hands around, moving further and further up; it was teasingly slow when he started to touch me, rubbing his fingers back and forth. My head tilted back in pleasure, gasping again when he eased in one finger. It was a strange feeling, so foreign at first, but as he slid it in and out, soon adding another inside me, I realised how much I had been missing out on.

Still wanting to go slow, I let him continue, eyes shooting down at him in a glare as he removed his fingers. He chuckled, laying me on my back and pushing my skirts even further up. I crossed my legs, not used to someone seeing so much of me, which Halfdan tutted at. Sliding his hands back up my legs, I enjoyed spreading them for him, wondering what he was doing as his head disappeared from my view. Until his tongue ran through me, and I instinctively bucked my hips up. Continuing to lick me, his arm pinned me down, causing my back to arch, and I gripped onto the pillows around me. I moaned over and over, louder and louder, calling out his name when he hit a specific spot. That wonderful feeling in the pit of my stomach was building again, and just as I thought it would all come crashing down on me, he stopped. 

My protests flew out of the window as he sat back and removed his shirt, leaving me no time to admire him as he tugged at my own dress. The coldness made my skin break out into goosebumps, and before I could even think about covering my breasts, Halfdan already had his own hands on them. 

“Halfdan...” I breathed out, knowing that if we carried on, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with his pace. 

“Too fast?” he halted.

I melted at that.“Just a little.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s not to say I’m not enjoying it.”

He let out a breathy laugh.“Good. This part will feel uncomfortable at first, alright?”

I meekly nodded, already knowing what he was referring to. He sweetly kissed my forehead, travelling down my nose, then to my lips before leaning back to take his trousers off. Keeping eye contact with me, he hovered over me again, his strong arms holding him up either side of my head. Glancing down, I gulped when I saw...him. Obviously I had never seen one before, but even with nothing to compare it to, I was still impressed. Dragging my legs up to spread them again, Halfdan interlocked one of our hands, giving me a reassuring kiss before I felt it against me.

He slid himself against me, checking once more that I was ready. Gripping onto his hand, I nodded, now desperate to know what it would be like to have him inside of me. My breath caught in my throat as he entered, eyes squeezing shut. It was a familiar yet altogether different feeling to that of his fingers. The stories of pain were true, though it was bearable. I saw him hesitate, and I urged him to go on. Once he was fully in, I opened my eyes to see Halfdan’s eyes closed, mouth agape as his breathing became heavier. He built up a pace, a smooth rhythm happening between our bodies. When he opened his eyes, we looked at each other, an unknown emotion being exchanged. He was going slightly quicker now, grunting as he thrusted. When I whimpered, he instantly stopped, slowly down rapidly. 

“No, no, go a bit faster. Please.” I whined, moving my hips upwards.

He smirked.“You said to go slow.”

Halfdan (the little shit) pulled out almost completely, sliding in ever so slowly. Although it was nice, I needed more friction. Pouting, I cried out his name, hoping it would turn him on more where he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He knew what he was doing, but I could see he was also impatient. I could tell that even when he was going fast for me, this wasn’t him to his full extent. We were being extremely loud, not caring if anyone heard us, we wanted the noise complaints. My legs were shaking, I wanted this feeling to last forever, crying out when a sudden wave of calmness washed over me. Halfdan thrusted a few more times before he too came down. Both breathless, our gaze was held, sloppily kissing each other as he removed himself.

With my legs throbbing, I laid there trying to regain my breathing. Halfdan carefully covered me with a fur, shuffling closer to hold me in his arms. We were hot and sweaty, but that didn’t matter.

“Thank you.” I breathed out. 

“I have been thanked many times before,” he cheekily said,“but it has only meant something coming from you.”

I scoffed a laugh, rolling my eyes.“Other men may have not been so kind. Some would have even thrown me to the side. But you were good to me Halfdan, if that doesn’t make you a man, I don’t know what does.”

“The Gods drew us together for some reason. I am glad that they did. I have my beautiful woman now.”

“And I my handsome man. Though I am tired.”

“Sleep my love.” he kissed the top of my head.“You will need plenty of rest for what I have planned for us in the future.”

#Halfdan the Black #halfdan the black imagine #halfdan the black imagines #halfdan the black x reader #halfdan the black one shot #halfdan #halfdan imagine #halfdan imagines #halfdan one shot #halfdan x reader #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings imagines #vikings one shot #vikings x reader #vikings fan fic #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #vikings fan fiction

[not-close-to-straight]

Wedding Night (SWS #73)

This is frankly ridiculous, just Horny Boys trying to keep it together long enough to get married, hilariously terrible smexy times whilst destroying a honeymoon suite, sass and snark and random sweetness and obligatory Spideypool bullshit.... all that good stuff. 

Enjoy!

SUNDAYS WITH SPIDEYPOOL MASTERLIST HERE

**********************

It had been Peter’s idea. 

“I dunno.” he said with that sheepish sort of shrug that told Wade he’d actually put a lot of thought into the idea. “I just think since nothing else about our relationship was done the traditional way--” 

“--What, swapping blow jobs for the first time while you were hanging upside down isn’t traditional??”

“--not even a little bit. Anyway, since nothing else has been done the traditional way, maybe we could do this the traditional way.” he raised his eyebrows hopefully. “Not sleeping together till the wedding night could make it really special. We could both wear white and do the rose petal and candle thing-- it could be really sweet.” 

“We did the rose petal thing literally last week.” 

“Babe.” Peter barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “You crashed through the window of a flower shop while chasing a bad guy and then we had highly illegal sex on the ruined flowers while waiting for the cops. That doesn’t count.”

“Okay fine.” Wade leaned in and smecked a kiss to his cheek. “Fine, if that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.” 

“Are you sure?” Peter looked wonderfully shy and Wade kissed him again just because he was fucking cute. “I promise I’ll make it up to you on our wedding night.” 

“Baby boy.” Wade managed to be serious for a minute. “In thirty days, I get to officially, legally promise to love you for the rest of my life. You won’t have to make anything up to me that night, just knowing you’re mine is going to be more than enough.” 

“I love you.” Peter tackled him into a long kiss. “You’re amazing. I know this is a stupid request, but you’re amazing for saying yes. Thank you.” 

“Ain’t no thang, sweet cheeks.” Wade assured him, hugging him tight. “I’m an adult and I have buckets of self control. I can definitely last a month without sex to make sure our first night as husbands is special.” 

“You have the self control of a two year old.” Peter informed him drily and Wade scoffed in mock outrage. “I bet you’ll be so horny by wedding day, you’ll be humping my leg as the pastor’s talking.” 

“Bold of you to assume I’d stop at just humping your leg.” 

“WADE!” 

******************

It had been Peter’s idea and Wade had happily agreed, but thirty days later standing on the stage in front of their friends and family and listening to the preacher say something smarmy and stupid about love--

“Your ass looks so good in that suit, I’m gonna pulverise it when we get out of here.” Wade promised under his breath and Peter tugged at his own bow tie and wet his lips and whispered back, “Not if I get you up against the wall and fuck the shit outta you in that dress first. Who gave you the right to wear something that gorgeous? You look incredible.” 

“Oh god, not as incredible as you do.” Wade muttered. “Did you buy the suit? Cos you’re not gonna get your money back on the rental. I’m gonna fuckin’ wreck that thing.” 

“Are you wearing underwear?” Peter’s eyes dropped to the waist line of Wade’s rather slinky dress, searching for the tell tale line of a thong or maybe even the texture of some lace. “Hm?” 

“Spanx shapewear.” Wade admitted in a hushed voice. “Had to get some compression for the lil merc since boners aren’t exactly church material. What about you? Underwear?” 

“Nope.” Peter shifted anxiously on his feet, glancing at his watch. “Want you so bad I’m about two seconds from making a mess in my pants.” 

“Hnnngh.” Wade bit at his palm to keep from groaning and the preacher stopped and sent him a concerned look. 

“Mr. Wilson? Everything alright?” 

“Mind your business preacher!” Wade snapped, and then when more than a few people in the congregation gasped-- “I mean, please continue? I uh--boy howdy, just excited to be married. Bound in holy matrimony and all that. Yay for marriage.” 

Someone in the audience-- probably Gwen because she’d been drinking with Peter before the ceremony-- did one of those ugly snort laughs that set off quite a few titters and the preacher cleared his throat and went back to speaking. 

“The bonds of holy matrimony are not to be taken lightly, not to be forgotten in times of strife, not to be-” 

“M’not gonna take you lightly.” Peter whispered and Wade cast his eyes towards heaven and muttered, “If there is a god, let’s work on speeding things up, huh? Not gonna make it through the rest of this ceremony. Why the hell did we decide on a church wedding?” 

“Traditional and decent.” Peter was starting to look flushed. “Remember? Wearing white and waiting till our wedding day, getting blessed by a preacher man? You thought it was a good idea.” 

“Yeah, but that was thirty days ago after I’d recently had sex! I would agree to anything after an orgasm, you knew that and took advantage! It’s practically a crime!” 

“A crime huh?” Peter glanced at his watch again. “You gonna make sure I pay for that tonight? Only seems fair.”

“You bad boy, we are in a church!” Wade checked that the preacher was still lost in some Bible verse about love being patient--which seemed fairly hilarious considering their current conversation- and leaned in closer, “But I am definitely tying you on the bed and spanking you until your ass is--” 

“Wade.” Peter muffled a strangled sound with his hand. “Gonna come in my pants. I swear.”

“Jesus--” Wade swore and the pastor stopped mid sentence, mouth falling open. 

“Sorry about that.” Wade apologized. “But you have got to hurry up. Vows. Now. Say the thing. Now.” 

“Uhhh...alright. The um-- Peter and Wade have prepared their own vows and would apparently like to recite them now?” The preacher stepped back a few steps and motioned for them to continue. 

“Pete.” Wade pulled the ring from a pocket he’d had sewn into the bust of his dress and in the audience, Gwen snort laughed again. “Pete, I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you power squat on the roof of a building and I fell in love with you approximately 3.7 seconds later. You put up with my terrible jokes and honestly horrifying sense of humour and my wonderful fashion choices and even though it took us a whole year to actually start dating, the first time you really saw me, you smiled and kissed me and I--” 

Wade’s voice caught and Peter’s eyes went very very soft. 

“I promise to always be around.” Wade cleared his throat and slid the ring onto Peter’s finger. “I promise to remember your favorite foods and be there to bandage you up when you get hurt and to always have extra blankets because somehow you’re always cold. I’m gonna love you forever Pete, way past what’s considered normal and probably in some very weird ways and I can’t promise we won’t fight but I can promise to never walk away ever.” 

Peter was starting to tear up now and with the rampant horniness forgotten for at least a minute, Wade leaned down and pushed their foreheads together to finish, “You love me on days I don’t even love myself and that’s more than I ever even hoped for and for that-- for that you get all of me, Pete. Heart and soul and my past and my present and all my futures and every second of every day for the next thousand years because I didn’t know I wanted any of that until I met you.” 

“Oh.” Peter closed his eyes and squeezed at Wade’s hand. “Oh my god, babe--” 

“Your turn.” Wade looked close to tears too, but he still cracked a smile. “Say the thing, do the vows. Let’s get this show on the road.” 

“Alright well.” Peter got Wade’s ring from his pocket and fit it onto Wade’s finger, brushing gently over the scarred skin as he went. “My vows aren’t that long or that pretty but here goes.” 

He took a deep breath and said simply, “I didn’t understand soulmates until I met you, Wade. You’re all the things I didn’t know were missing from my life and from my heart and now that I know what it’s like to be whole, I’ll never be able to take it back. I’ll never want to take it back. You’re my everything and you say you want me for every second of every day for the next thousand years, but I’ve got news for you, Merc.” he bent and kissed Wade’s palm and then his knuckles, lingering over the shine of the ring. “A thousand years isn’t long enough. Forever isn’t long enough for how long I want to love you.”

“Well shit.” A hankie from the bosom of Wade’s dress and this time not even Gwen laughed. She was too busy wiping away sudden tears with everyone else in the room. “How’d you upstage me using less words? That ain’t right, you’re not supposed to upstage the bride on his wedding day! I didn’t wear a neckline this low to be shown up by a brat in a suit.” 

“My bad.” Peter grinned and pressed another kiss to Wade’s palm, this one decidedly less chaste than the first. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Add it to the list of things I have to make up to you tonight.” 

“It’s a long list, baby boy.” Wade’s eyes sparked in a challenge. “You up for it?” 

“You have no idea the things I’m up for.” Peter retorted, and just that fast the ceremony was derailing spectacularly and the preacher had to scramble to get it back on track. . 

“Well then.” Determined to at least finish the wedding on a positive, appropriate note, the preacher cleared his throat and stepped in between the couple before they did something awful like start stripping right then and there. “Now that Peter and Wade have exchanged vows and rings, witnessed by friends and family and in the presence of the Holy Spirit--” 

“Have you seen our honeymoon suite?” Wade whispered, completely ignoring whatever else the preacher said. “Is it big?” 

“It’s huge.” Peter confirmed in a matching whisper. “I’ve already got it all set up for us. Rose petals, candles, champagne. I can’t wait to get you up there.” 

“You gonna carry me across the thresh hold like a blushing bride?” Wade waggled his non existent eyebrows. “I get all sorts of wet for those muscles, who knows what I might do to show my appreciation.” 

“Oh god.” Peter was starting to look distinctly uncomfortable again. “Wade, I--” 

“--for the first time, Mr. and Mr. Parker-Wilson! Peter, please kiss your--”

The preacher had to backpedal out of the way, most likely fearing for his very life when Peter yanked Wade close for a bruising kiss, bending the merc back until the mid thigh high slit of the gown fell open and exposed a whole lotta leg.

“WHOOOOOO!!!” Gwen jumped from her chair and hollered, “GET SOME PETE! YEAH!” 

“Gwen, for the love of--” MJ yanked the blonde down into the pew and hissed at her to behave, but in a room full of assorted super heros and friends of Wade, Gwen’s behavior wasn’t really even the most shocking and after a moment, MJ relented and started cat calling too. 

“We have better things to do than hang out and eat cake.” Peter breathed against Wade’s mouth and his husband nodded quickly. “What say I get us out of here?” 

“Either you do it or I’m gonna throw some dynamite at the wall and create a door that way.” Wade suggested. “And I feel like the preacher will send us straight to hell for that sorta thing so---” 

No one at all was surprised when Wade and Peter didn’t show up for the reception. 

******************

******************

“Oh so hey this is nice.” Wade had barely got the door to their suite closed before Peter was shoving him up against it, crushing their mouths together and hitching Wade’s leg up around his waist. “Mmmph, yep, nice suite, you did a good job picking out--” 

Rrrrrrrrrrip! The material of his gown ripped clear to Wade’s waist and Peter wasted no time getting his hands beneath the dress to find the line of-- “Wait, seriously, you’re wearing Spanx?” 

“Hey.” Wade batted his eyelashes teasingly. “A guys gotta look his best, right? This dress was so tight you could see the dimples on my ass, shapewear was a must.” 

“You look gorgeous.” Peter murmured over another kiss. “M’sorry if I didn’t tell you before but you look gorgeous, babe. I’m so glad you decided to wear a dress, so glad you knew I’d love it. I about lost my mind when I saw you coming down the aisle in this thing.” 

“Well that’s nice and all, but you should be doing something more interesting than complimenting me right now.” Wade informed him and Peter grinned, curling his hands in the shapewear and shredding it apart. “Oh fuck me, why is it so hot when you tear things?” 

“It’s the size kink thing.” Peter was laughing as he finally got the underwear off of Wade, smoothing his hands over the lean hips and eyeing the near obscene bulge beneath the white fabric greedily. “You like that I look like a twink but am still stronger than you.” 

“Yep. I heard no lies there.” Wade’s head thunked back against the door when Peter stroked him through the dress, coaxing more and more wet from the tip to stain the silky material. “Oh fuck-fuck-fuck Pete, don’t make me wait any longer, my balls are so blue they’re gonna fall off. I swear to god, just gonna fall right off, hurry up.” 

“Are they your something blue?” Peter snarked and Wade retorted, “If I wasn’t so hard up right now, I’d bite you for that.” 

“Babe, I’m so hard up right now, you biting me might actually get me off.” Peter laughed, and then, “You haven’t even been jerking off? Promise? Thirty days?” 

“I’ve been wearing underwear in the shower so I wouldn’t be tempted!” Wade blurted. “But if you don’t do something quick I’m just gonna blow my load right here and collapse into an orgasm coma so maybe you should--” 

“Jesus Christ, are you wearing a plug?” Peter almost choked when he reached low and felt the silicone base of one of their wider plugs. “Oh my god Wade.” 

“Oh yeah, the Spanx was also to keep that in place.” Wade panted through the sentence as Peter started to wriggle the plug out. “I didn’t want you to waste time by being all sweet and careful opening me up--” 

“--oh yeah, god forbid I take my time with you so you don’t tear.” Peter snorted. “What was I thinking?” 

“-- I figured this way you could just fuck me--” 

“--holy shit babe, it’s so big! You’ve been wearing this all day--?!” 

“--Pete! Hurry up and get it OWWWWWT!” Wade shrieked when the plug came all the way free. “Alright, well now there’s room for you in there so why don’t you hop to it and--” 

“Wade.” It was unreal how sexy it was for Peter to lift Wade so easily, holding him against the door with just one hand while the other fingers fit deep inside him to be sure he really was ready, Peter never willing to rush this sort of thing even if he was practically desperate. “Wade, I love you. I do. My husband. I love you so much.” 

“That’s very sweet.” Wade leaned in and kissed him. “And I love you too and later we can talk about how much I love being called husband. But if you don’t do something with that dick of yours right now, I’m going to cut it off and take it with me for alimony when I divorce your ass for failure to perform, you understand?” 

“That was the least sexy thing I’ve ever heard.” Peter was laughing out loud as he undid the zipper of his suit pants, pushing them down only far enough to get his cock out. “Take my dick for alimony? What the fuck, babe?” 

“It’s the only part of you I’d need.” Wade said blandly and Peter was still laughing when he thrust in hard. “Oh fuck--oh--oh--oh yes.” Wade actually went limp for a minute in Peter’s arms, the itch of being empty soothed for just a minute by having Peter inside him. “Baby boy, not to sound all cutesy and romantic or anything, but I fucking missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” Peter was breathing hard, pushing their foreheads together and holding onto Wade tight enough to leave bruises. “Holy fuck I missed you babe. How did I go thirty days without this?” 

“I dunno, it was a terrible idea on your part but hey, you know what would be really hot?” 

“What’s that?” Peter withdrew a little and rocked back in, almost biting his tongue off when Wade clenched around him. “Shit, easy does it babe. I know for a fact you’ll never let me live it down if I only last ten seconds.” 

“Superhero refractory periods are a beautiful blessed thing.” Wade teased, and then, “We should break a table, right? If we break this door we’re gonna end up bare assed and floppy dicked out in the hall but a table...?” 

“Want me to fuck you through a table?” Peter latched onto Wade’s neck and worried a deep bruise onto the rough skin, groaning when Wade’s cock jumped against his stomach, leaking milky white between their bodies. “Yeah? I thought wedding night sex was supposed to be tender and slow.” 

Wade outright cackled over the thought of anything tonight being ‘tender and slow’ and he was still cackling when Peter carried him over to the table and laid him down hard enough to crack one of the legs. 

“Like this?” Peter swept the length of the dress aside so it didn’t get caught on anything and pulled away just to snap his hips forward and bury himself as deep as he could in Wade. “Want me to fuck you like this? Right here in your pretty dress?” 

“Pete!” Wade made a high pitched, hilarious noise and came hard enough to make his back arch, apparently needing nothing more than a dick in him and a tiny amount of dirty talk to push him through a mind blanking orgasm. 

“Oh my god.” Peter bent nearly double to get his mouth around Wade’s cock in time to catch the last few spurts, moaning at the taste of his husband on his tongue. “Babe what the hell, I didn’t even get a chance to fuck you yet!” 

“Okay but in my defense--” Wade threw an arm over his eyes and gasped through the words as Peter kept licking at him, fucking him in slow, leisurely strokes. “In my defense? Thirty days for you is like...is like thirty months in Deadpool years. I’ve been as celibate as a month for like, a millennium. Don’t act like you’re surprised. I needed you, Pete. Needed you and needed you inside me, you probably could have just kissed me for a while and I would have come. I love you and you have no idea what you do to me--”

“Oh oh oh shitshitshit--” Peter was suddenly shouting, hips jerking and eyes rolling back and Wade’s mouth fell open at the unmistakable feeling of Peter coming inside him. 

“Pete.” 

“Sorry sorry sorry.” Peter collapsed boneless against him. “Sorry, I-I--” 

“I was literally mid sentence.” 

“I’m sorry! You aren’t the only one that’s been celibate as a monk!” 

“I wasn’t even dirty talking! At least I came cos you were being sexy! I was trying to be sweet and tell you I loved you and--” Wade stopped when Peter whined a little and thrust again weakly. “--whoa-ho-ho is that a sweet talk kink I’m seeing right now? Couldn’t handle me talking soft to you, hubby?” 

“We’re the worst at this.” Peter moaned and Wade cracked up all over again. “We’ve been in the honeymoon suite for seven minutes! It cost me fifteen hundred dollars and we’re already done in seven minutes!” 

“Aw baby boy.” Wade combed his fingers through Peter’s hair. “It’s okay. Super dick, remember? We’ll be up and at ‘em again in like five minutes tops.” 

“Okay, but if anyone asks?” Peter raised his eyebrows. “I ravished you for hours.” 

“Of course you did.” Wade soothed. “And if anyone asks you, remember I played hard to get and blushed when you tenderly undressed me and exposed my innocence.” 

“Your innocence.” Peter’s shoulders shook through a chuckle. “Oh my god.” 

“Oh hey, you really did the rose petal and candle thing, huh?” Wade propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the suite. “It’s pretty Pete, thank you.” 

“I had every intention of cherishing the hell out of you on that big bed.” Peter informed him. “The candles are scented and I misted the sheets with like, glitter spray so we’ll be all reflecty and shiny in the low lights. There’s a box of chocolates in the bathroom cos I thought we could get all sexy in the bathtub...” he trailed off with a wistful smile. “Sorry.” 

“Hey hey hey.” Wade cupped Peter’s jaw and lay a very sweet kiss on his lips. “Baby we got all night for this sort of thing. We got the first one out of the way so now we’ll be able to take our time. Don’t worry about it, we’ll get to the bed and your scented candles, definitely sexy times in the bathtub. I’ve got a dozen ways I wanna be with you tonight, alright?” 

“Alright.” Peter kissed him back and then eased out from between his knees with a grimace. “I should’ve worn a condom. “

“Why, so you would have lasted a whole minute instead of forty nine seconds?” Wade challenged, making a show of crossing one leg over the other and adjusting his dress. “I doubt the eleven seconds would have made a difference.” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Peter didn’t even have the decency to blush, only blew Wade a kiss and started yanking off the rest of his clothes. “Good thing I bought this suit, huh? No way we’re gonna get the deposit back on--” 

“What in the fucknuckles is that?” Wade jumped off the table and gasped out loud when he saw what Peter was wearing high on his thigh. “Is that-- is that a garter belt?” 

“Oh.” Peter snapped the elastic band at his leg teasingly. “You like it?” 

“Is that-- how did you find a Deadpool themed garter belt?” Wade hitched his dress up to his knees and knelt down to get a closer look. “Oh my god, it’s a mix of Spidey and Deadpool masks? PETE!” 

“I had it specially made.” Peter’s eyes widened when Wade leaned in and mouthed a wet kiss onto the satin. “Figured it could be our--our-- um figured it could be our something...new....”

“Baby boy.” Wade wrenched his husband around so his face was level with Peter’s cock, smiling over the noise Peter made before hooking his fingers in the garter belt and using it to yank them closer together. “It’s gorgeous. Want you wearing this and your wedding ring and nothing else, you got it?” 

“Yep yep yep.” the suit jacket and shirt split apart in one quick yank and Peter kicked out of his pants too. “How’s this?” 

“Almost perfect.” Wade got back to his feet and sauntered over towards the end table, retrieving a bottle of champagne and holding it up suggestively. “I’d really really like to lick some of this off you, husband.”

“Oh.” Peter’s knees went weak. “Oh yes.”  

“You ready for another round?” 

“Always.” 

“Holla for some super dick. Assume the position baby boy, face down and ass up cos that’s the way I like to--” 

“Wade.” Peter put his hand up to stop him. “I can’t tell you how badly I want you to lick champagne off literally every inch of me right now, but if you say ‘face down, ass up, cos that’s the I like to--’ and then make that stupid Goofy laugh noise you did last time you said that? I will tell everyone you weren’t a virgin on our wedding night. That’s not how the line from the song goes and you know it.” 

“No!” Wade’s eyes went very wide. “You wouldn’t dare sully my reputation like that just cos I said ‘hyuck’.”

“I swear.” 

“Fine.” Wade stared down at his white dress mournfully, then ripped it right off and chucked it aside. “Eh you know what, no one thinks I’m a virgin. Face down, ass up baby boy. That’s the way I like to--” 

“Wade---” 

“HYUCK!”

“WADE!” 

********************

********************

The next morning Wade and Peter stood waiting by reception while the front desk attendant read through the list of damages in their room. 

“A broken table?” she asked and Peter grimaced. “Bed frame cracked and champagne bottle spilled on floor?” 

“The hyucking got a little out of control.” Wade offered and Peter hissed, “I will kill you, I swear.” 

“Bathroom flooded--” 

“We forgot about the bath and left it running while eating cake.” 

“--and body shaped frosting smears on the couch?” 

“....it was good cake.” 

“Oh my.” she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Well obviously the five hundred dollar security deposit won’t cover these damages--” 

“Here.” Wade handed her over a credit card. “Just put it on that and don’t worry about it. We got a little carried away but it was a really good night.” He hooked his arm around Peter and kissed him sweetly. “Only gonna get married once, you know?”

“I love you, husband.” Peter stood on his toes and kissed him back. “So much.” 

“I love you too.” Wade turned back to the attendant. “Extend our apologies to the hotel manager but tell him we couldn’t really help ourselves.” 

“You couldn’t really help yourselves?” 

“Oh come on.” Wade winked at her. “You know virgins are on their wedding night, right?” 

“Wade, for the love of--” 

**********************

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#ncts fics #spideypool #sundays with spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson

[useless12sstuff]

Short stories #3

. 3 Above and Beyond

Trudging through the woods, I try to place the majority of my weight on my makeshift cane. Squinting my eyes, I try to keep sight of my path. The moon is of barely any help. If I had known it would be dark I would've snuck out a torch. Pulling my coat tighter around myself and wishing, not for the first time, that I should've worn something warmer above my hospital gown. I buried my nose in my scarf and yet, the crisp air still burned down my lungs. If my cigarettes don't kill me first, the cold certainly will. 'You shouldn't be here', the guilty part of my brain whispered. I squashed that thought down just like the leaves under my feet. Silly Linda, I scoff. She thought she could keep me in the ward by locking the door. Well look now, I jumped out the window. Well the pangs in my leg are almost making me regret. Almost. Oh whatever. To hell with Linda and her false pretenses. She can act sweet and coy all she likes but I know she wants me dead. Not more than I do but it is a mutual sentiment that is reciprocated. She's far too young anyway. A bit naive and very gullible. Very overconfident too but she is under the assumption that she's being 'smart' and 'sharp' and that an old, miserable midget like me won't be able to see right through her. An absolute fool. I despise it here.

I hobble my way to my usual spot, a clearing somewhere in the middle of the woods. The crescent moon stares down at me, as if judging. Sitting down on a tree stump while catching my breath, I pull out a pack of cigarettes that Linda missed and a lighter from my coat pocket. A cold draft rushed and rustled the trees and I held my coat tighter, shivering badly. With numb hands I light a cigarette and hold the lighter close, the tiny flame giving me a semblance of warmth. Sigh. I wouldn't want the fluid to run out. I pocketed it, closed my eyes and enjoyed my cigarette. Deep inhale and then exhale. Inhale and exhale. Finally, some peace and quiet….

…. Which did not last longer than twenty minutes. A sharp, whip like crack sobered me up and I opened my eyes to a terrifying sight. A creature with four faces, more than a hundred wings, taller than the trees, so huge that I can't distinguish the sky from its body. The moon is nowhere in sight. His whole body consists of uncountable eyes and tongues. What on God's green earth is this!? I can't move. Why am I not moving? Its hellish eyes stared me down. The cigarette I was holding had long fallen. I am a stone, glued to one place. I can't tear my eyes off this- this creature. All too soon, it descends and shifts into a shape more recognizable. A man. Dressed in a pure white robe, inky hair curled in every direction, skin the color of rich soil and piercing charcoal eyes, this man would stand out among any crowd. I must be hallucinating. Are cigarettes supposed to make you hallucinate?

"What kind of alien are you?" I asked in a quivering voice.

The man blinked. Then blinked again. Then stared at me long enough to make me wish I hadn't spoken.

"What kind do you think I am?" he smoothly replies, evading my question.

"A shape-shifting one."

He folds his hands neatly behind his back and doesn't reply.

"And who would you introduce yourself as?" he asks. I have a distinct feeling that he's humouring me. Like a cat who caught a canary.

"I, well, I-uhm-I fancy myself a student." I stuttered out. He doesn't need to know where I am from.

"A student of?"

"Life."

The alien smirked. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us, uncomfortable for me atleast. I feel weaker. Sweat beads at my eyebrows. This alien's presence has a weight that is taking a toll on me.

With nothing to do, I whip out another cigarette. I finished smoking it. Then I pull out a second, then a third, then a fourth.

"How long have you been smoking?" the alien asks suddenly.

"A few decades." I say, lighting another cigarette. A hush falls again.

"How do you speak our language?" I inquired, anything to keep the oppressive silence at bay.

"I've been here before."

"Oh?" I ask, hoping for an elaboration.

"Yes."

None came.

"What is it like?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your planet. What is it like?"

"It is a human's dream come true. You can have whatever your heart desires. Food, clothing, land, companions. It is eternal peace-"

"Sounds like heaven." I interrupted.

The alien's lips quirked.

"Something of that sort. It can be very beautiful or very terrible depending on the person."

"Why so?"

"Would you wish for good things to happen to evil people?"

"No. Not at all."

"My point exactly."

"What is evil anyway? Is evil caused by a difficult life?You know, I've always wondered."

The alien calmly looks back at me.

"Have you had a sorrowful life?" he asks, a curious gleam in his eyes.

"Sorrowful?" I scoff. "I can barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. A saying goes 'Let a man walk the halls of sorrow. Whatever comes out, can it be called a man anymore?' " I asked.

"Sorrow is either growth or wasted potential if you have not learned. Power on the other hand, man cannot be trusted with power. It is too corrupting." the alien argues.

"I'll have to politely disagree. Power in itself is not corrupt. Power attracts those who are corruptible. Those who took the wrong lessons from their sorrows."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You have become a cynic only because you felt your life was difficult. Your cigarette is proof enough. It kills you, yet, you stick to it. Doesn't that make you just like them?"

"You are not a human. You don't, and maybe, will never, understand the delicate intricacy of addiction. I am not defending myself. I am ashamed but leaving it is no easy task."

The alien hummed," If you believe so. You are quite a melancholic person." he says, matter of fact.

"So I've been told." I smiled self deprecatingly, "Look at me, debating about ideologies with an alien."

The alien smirked, as if he was in on a joke I wasn't. Strange.

I cleared my throat. It felt itchy. Must've been the cigarettes.

"Anyway,how does your planet deal with 'evil' people."

"You need not worry your head over it. Our, ah, justice system is very fair."

"Oh. Where is it located? Your planet that is."

"Not here. It is somewhere above all the galaxies."

That most certainly piqued my interest. I have wished for death on my worst days but on my best days, I've always been a curious bug, too curious for my own good. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Why are you here?" I finally cave in to my curiosity.

The alien side eyes me and replies, "I'm here to take one person home with me. Forever."

A thrill raced up my spine and anticipation settled in my bones. I licked my frozen, chapped lips. Perhaps I am being selfish. I spent my entire life looking for an escape, an escape from everything, my depression, my poverty, my disease, that hospital and its disinfectant smelling wards, Linda, this wretched world. That is an artist's curse. Escapism, they say, is an art too and I am anything but unacquainted to art. I always wondered about what was beyond, a place where no man had stepped. The golden threads of time, weaved into the fine fabric of the universe, permitted this opportunity to occur in front of me. I will take it even if my hands bleed.

I have no family that left, nobody who loves me. I'm bitter and alone. I deserve to be selfish for once in my life. To take a big leap, a risk. Yes, I will.

"Take me with you." I begged. "Please."

"Why should I?" the alien replied, staring right in my soul.

"You came for me. I know. If you didn't you wouldn't have landed here." I say, hopefully.

"And if I say that is false? What else would you offer?“

"I can offer you beauty and art. I can create for you."

"We have many of those."

"There will ever only be one like me. Just like there is only one artist like them. Themselves only."

Silence enveloped us again while rejection stung my chest again.

"Allow me to prove myself." I plead.

The alien looked at me, questioning.

"Look in my mind, see all that there is." I say determinedly. And I let him in my mind, let him see the world through my eyes and feel what I felt. I let him see my arts, my music, my poetry, my paintings that I crafted lovingly with my aged hands. I let him see what a human sees, something I know that he had never witnessed. Then I revealed my sorrows. Hopefully humanity would appeal to it.

With a pull he left my head. My eyes burned and I felt a blood vessel burst. I dry heaved on the dead ground but the nausea still lingered. I am glad I was seated or my knees would've buckled and I would've been an undignified heap on the floor. All the while the alien just stared and stared. I am getting sick of his staring too.

Once again, I broke the silence.

"I will paint your skies," I continue, hesitantly, "and your buildings and walls. I will write for the children and even for the old. Just please, take me. I'm exhausted ."

My eyes burned again, unshed tears waiting for release. I avert my eyes and let out a sigh. I feel heavy and my shoulders slump. Unexplainable exhaustion overcomes me and my temperature keeps rising, beads of sweat rolling down my face.

"If," he began,then stopped. It was the first time in our entire conversation that I saw him hesitate.

"If," he continued, "if I were to ask you to scream your wish at me, what would you fear more; your echo or my answer? “

"My echo", I reply instantaneously.

"Why?"

"Because it would mean you have declined."

"Hmm. Recite a poem for me."

I gave a shaky, hopeful smiled and offered him my words:

My river by the oak tree

has turned molten gold again,

as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.

The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles

While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,

When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,

Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,

While I sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,

Under the wrinkled, silver moon.

Silence hugged us again while the impact of my weakened voice lingered in the air.

"Do you believe in other lives? Aliens and such?" he questioned.

"Yes I do, I mean you are here so that confirms it too."

"You are a funny one. No one has ever mistaken me for an alien." it grinned, crooked, as if a gesture it wasn't familiar with.

My body went cold and tremors shook it to its feeble core, my breath coming out in shallow pants. My eyes shut down of their own accord. The entity then spoke with a voice that might have held the weight of a thousand suns,

"Beyond the stars we go."

#writeaway #writeblr #writers #free write #art #dark academia #light academia #artistic #writing #poetic #original art #original peoms #orginal story #short story #storytelling #deep state #stars #sad #depression #dark acadamia aesthetic #light academic aesthetic #writers on tumblr #sad writing #life and death #spilled pages #spilled poetry #spilled words #spilled everything #spilled thoughts #spiritualjourney

[01010010-posts]

— our love is a starred staircase; i jump two steps at time but you can only go one by one.

i. → becoming human. “and this is hen.” “mhh, very interesting.” “.... i hate you.” he unwillingly cracks up, slightly turning to the other side because, honestly, he’s not that bastard (maybe) “sorry–” he bites his lips, not wanting to be exposed, gosh, he really is such a bastard “it’s just that– well, how do i put it.... learning a new language from scratch, without any download, it actually is difficult.” there is it again, that devilish sneer “i swear to god, love” “okay, okay. i’ll say it. but please don’t be mad. it’s your handwriting. it’s hard to read. it’s so ugly you could be a doctor.” he’s doing his best, he vows, but since being deviant his sense of humour has highly been affected. you lose no time in emerging onto his jolly demeanor and begin smacking him “you’re not being fair! ouch– please! you promised to not get angry!” he refuges his hair behind his knuckles, while still enjoying taunting you “i’ve spent the past hour memorizing things with you and that’s how you repay me! and i didn’t promise that!” he lets you tease him for too little, and without even realizing it you’re in his grasp, frozen, sweetly pouting, a mouth that he kisses “you’re right, here’s your reward, teacher.” “did you at least learn something?” “ohh, yes, a wonderful lot. i learnt how to kiss you here, here, and here.” and saying that he follows his preaching, teaching you where he adores to leave lovebites. ii. → pieces of you between the pages. it’s not his fault. sometimes night shifts happen. but he hates them abysmally. why? because, as much as he gets bored when you’re sleeping, he can’t help but worship those endless hours he has available, basking in the lone presence of your body, recording each minute thing, with such limited time on this earth, then, he.... but tonight is a little different. he phoned you for a while (you had to force him to hang up), assured that you finished eating at a normal pace, didn’t steal too many snacks from the cupboard, watched something nice and got to bed at a reasonable hour. yes. he’s not your mom but he likes to remind you that his way of loving is varied. of course, soft words and i love yous and invisible smooching were not absent at the roll-call. he’s not only your mom after all. ahh, almost forgot. this is just routine. the deviant thing tonight is: a book. your book. your favourite book. you probably forgot it in his bag. but it’s not very important right now. he picks it up, the spine slightly visible from the black fabric incorporating it. it’s an ordinary book. he sits, and since he’s kinda alone, nobody prevents him from propping his long legs on his desk, relaxing in his leather ergonomic chair. reading a bit won’t hurt. the content, the plot, it’s not really important. what he’s actually reading is: your underlined parts. you normally don’t do that, you said one time. it ruins the paper, you said. yet in this one, this one, so important to you, you used graphite pencil to emphasize. mostly, about love. iii. → doing nothing. “i won’t stand for this!” he huffs in a bit of what appears to be the middle of an angry and annoyed tone. his arms hurriedly coming into a fold around his chest, he doesn’t really know how to react. you try to hide your benevolent smirk, an android this cute shouldn’t exist “why? you’re already doing it.” “that’s– that’s because it was your turn to choose what we should be doing this evening.” “so you’re peacefully protesting?” you urge him, now holding back snorting is almost impossible “.... kinda.” and at this point you’re nearly choking on your own laugh “you’re making fun of me?!” he finishes his retort and darts, indignant, sitting upright on the couch. so so so sorry but you have to cover your face with your digits and turn towards the other side because, honestly, you’re not that bastard as to burst into laughter in front of him (maybe) “gosh– it’s– it’s– pfft– i apologize i’m– ahahAHAHA NO PLEASE NO!” while you were, indeed, mocking him you lowered your guard and him, a weapon, took that as his advantage “PLEASE BABY” “ohh, we’re begging before i even get serious? my my, you’re quite weak.” his fingers carefully threading between your ribs, stroking your skin in a delicate manoeuvring until he’s satisfied with his revenge “you’re terrible.” he grins, both short of breath from being such imbeciles “i am.” he gently lowers down your crouched shape, half on the sofa the rest on the floor, and kisses your reluctant cheek “what’s the plan, then?” “don’t think i’ve changed my mind. i don’t want to do anything. i want to continue until i reach absolute zero.” iv. → your things // your place. he doesn’t need to shower, nor to bathe, and if he indulges in those activities it’s just to bond, he assures you. but suddenly it’s not so credible when you, wanting to surprise him, come back to your place without telling, sneakily unlock the threshold and tiptoe to search for him to no avail. you’re about to open your mouth and shout, to see some sort of shocked reaction, maybe a jump from the scare, but he’s not in the living room. and not in the compact kitchen. and not in the bedroom either. then, where could he be? you silently ponder, a tap of your shoe asking if he left to go shopping. but you know, the fridge is not that empty. could he be....? without letting out a sound you enter the bathroom, certainly not expecting the sight that presents to you. a single curtain separating you from his shadow. of course, you can’t resist the call. with a swift movement you pull the nylon and expose him, who can’t help but nervously shriek in distress “ah! what the fuck!” you cackle “surprise!” he sighs, exasperated by your childish behaviour, and turns off the water “is that my.... body wash?” your attention shifts rapidly, taking in the image of his fully naked anatomy but pointing an index at his palms “what–” he halts mid-sentence, his cyan eyes darting to his fingers “oh, well, huh–” “you’re using my body wash.” “i can explain.” “you always say you’re too upgraded for bubbles.” “.... my phrasing is not exactly that however i was just– curious.” “to try my body wash.” “yes. to try your pink velvet sunflower body wash.” “wait. how do you know the exact name. suspicious.” if his forehead wasn’t already shimmering from the droplets of your interruption he would be drenched in cold sweat “.... i analyzed it.” “you fucking ate shower gel.” “in my defense–” v. → what do you do when you’re happy. he longs for moments like these. for when you both come home, him entangling his arms around your waist as soon as the door closes, leaving a trail of tiny pecks from your shoulder to your lobe, slow as a snail, savouring each millimeter of skin, each little relaxed spasm your muscles have, each complaint you attempt to address to his figure, each tender giggle escapes your mouth. he longs for moments like these. the same as when your shared friends send a text at the last minute, asking if it’s okay to come over and then maybe go somewhere, drinking or eating doesn’t really matter, it’s just to be together. and you sweetly smile, a bit tired after work, but still willing to say ‘yes’, serene in the comfort of not even having the need to change into fancy clothes, only bustling with secret excitement, waiting to be in stitches in the back of a non-automatic car. he longs for moments like these. as that time you both got a couple days off and decided to spend them in a countryside house, clutched by vines of different species: virginia creeper, common ivy and climbing magenta roses. and as soon as the door closed you rushed, gliding on the worn burnt sienna cotto tiles, up the old rusty stone stairs, reached the top and opened the small cabin, only occupied by a toilet and a small painting (‘in bed’ by federico zandomeneghi. a girl with long auburn hair, facing a floral wallpaper, resting in a tranquil atmosphere while stretched out in her bed under light blue covers.). you promptly proceeded to push the wood window frame, letting light invade the whole space. he was right beside you as your head stuck out, inhaling the fresh air and remaining speechless in front of the sun, the sky, the clouds, the as much red roofs interspersed with yellow lichens and green moss, the rest of the panorama composed by infinite sweeps of earthy fields. he longs for moments like these. vi. → our things // our place. “don’t forget to brush your teeth.” he whispers from behind you, his face reflected on the mirror in which you’re admiring yourself in search of some imperfections. you absentmindedly chuckle “i know” your eyes fixated low, watching the drain of the pale china sink. logically, the most convenient way of getting the toothpaste to exit the tube, is to squeeze from the end and let it come out on its own. of course, he noticed, you don’t do that. you, as if reading his mind while he’s standing close, watching and mimicking a human nightly routine, do the complete opposite of what he’s thinking, pressing your thumb at the very start of the mixed aluminium-and-plastic bottle you’re holding. a tiny bubble forms where the cap should be and you hint a smile. infos bothering his vision at the corner of his irises: it’s some internet articles about teeth blackening, mostly persistent in asia. it’s somewhat fascinating to him, or at least, it’s different from the constant obsession with lightening. he wonders what you would think about it. he wonders if you even know about it. white gel slowly fills your tongue and coats the ends of your lips. you’re kinda messy, he admits, but finds it utterly adorable nevertheless. vii. → dying human. your hand. your hand is what kept him alive for so long. because, despite his appearance, he’s as old as an adult can be at this time of your life. your life. two parallels tracks that never meet, going their way, wanting to touch but never able to. you, growing old. him, growing and nothing more. because he can’t be old, can’t he. he will never be old. he must be about.... no, that’s stupid. no hypothesis could change anything. it doesn’t matter which numbers he should have in his ID – not that androids have any in the first place –, what matters is the inequity of your age “you’re always beautiful” you murmur “mh? look who’s talking” the end of your mouth curls up in a childish smile, wrinkles adorning all of your features “flatterer. i could be one of your grandparents for all you know” he gives you a lazy expression, lids half closed, nevertheless content, a bittersweet happiness. he takes your right hand in his and draws it near his cheek “it’s rough, c’mon” you’re a bit ashamed but he lets the warm rays of sunshine glimmer onto him, eyes slowly leaving space to complete relaxation “no, it’s tender, don’t worry, just as you.”

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