#the almighty johnsons fanfic

[laurfilijames]

Words Unspoken

Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Anders Johnson x female reader

Words: 5,888

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Unprotected intercourse. Swearing. Feeeeeeelingssssss.

Summary: You return from your work trip in Dunedin, going to Anders' apartment to find him questioning your relationship, and true feelings are revealed.

A/N: I can't believe this chapter is finally finished! Apparently the last time I had touched it was June 😅 but better late than never!! It's full of feelings and I have always wanted to get this part of their story out for you to read, so without further adieu!

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Anders sat balanced on the edge of his couch staring out the large window that covered almost the entire outer wall of his living room, the view of downtown Auckland allowing him to be lost in thought.

He hadn’t been able to get his mind off of what Mike said to him the other day, the words echoing in his tortured mind with a cruel determination to be believed; Anders isn't capable of loving anyone other than himself.

“Fucking bastard,” he muttered aloud to his empty apartment, swallowing thickly as that constricted feeling in his throat began to choke him again. The view of the Sky Tower was now blurry, and he blinked a few times as he brought the glass he held to his lips with a hand that shook, his knuckles white from gripping it so tight. The scotch was warm as it slid down, but did nothing to dull the possibility that Mike could be right. He puffed out his cheeks and closed his eyes, his breath expelling forcefully, but rickety out of his lungs, and his head tipped up to the ceiling as he was hounded once again with the reminder of his shortcomings.

For most of the time you had been away, Anders had convinced himself that he might have been falling in love with you, but after seeing Mike, the whole notion seemed ludicrous. He had always been so careful never to bring feelings into any of his relationships.

Until you.

No, he reminded himself again. His hands fidgeted nervously against his glass and his leg bounced up and down, unable to keep himself still. The amount of times he switched back and forth in his mind was turning him insane.

He didn’t know what love really was, that if any of the things he felt for you were in fact the one thing that plagued so many people in a painfully beautiful and risky way. How was he to know? No one had ever declared the terrifying phrase to him before, nor had he ever uttered the words, and he assured himself for what had to be the millionth time this week that being with you was no different. What you had together was fun; perfect as it was, and the sex was the best he could recall in the very long line up of his history. Why chance losing all of that over something that he'd gone his whole life thinking didn't really exist with the exception of a few lucky people?

Still, he couldn’t deny that he found himself longing to hear the words slip from your lips; to have you tell him how you felt, to know how it would feel to have someone genuinely hold that kind of unconditional and shamelessly pure affection toward him.

So many times he thought you would say it, lost in intense moments of passion that had you on the brink, almost confessing it within your moans of rapture, and he knew it would be the sweetest sound he ever heard.

And then you left.

Heat crept up through him, his hurt fueling his anger, and he clenched his teeth together hard as his nostrils flared out in an effort to steady his breathing. His head hung low and he ran his hand up the back of it, reminding himself that whatever you felt for him he didn't deserve, and that he would always be the type of man who refused to succumb to something as frivolous as love.

He sat up straight and drained what was left in his glass, his resolve restored, vowing to never let anyone make him doubt his character again.

Anders didn’t want to lose you but—

The sound of the door opening brought him out of his thoughts, his head whipping around to watch you walk in through his kitchen, a mix of bitterness and relief filling him at the sight of you.

Standing from his perch, he set his empty glass down on the table and made his way over to you, your bright, although hesitant smile matching his own.

“Welcome home,” he said with a hint of sarcasm through a grin that didn't reach his eyes, his dimples barely hidden beneath his stubble. Anders stopped before he completely closed the distance between you, tucking his hands in his pockets as he looked at you suspiciously.

Every muscle in his body tensed as you gingerly took a step toward him, the feel of your hands on his chest causing even more confliction. He could see the pain reflected in your eyes as they danced across where your fingertips lingered, the anguish he knew you would be feeling as clear as the day was, making him want to let you in again as if nothing had happened.

"How was Dunedin?" he asked in a low tone, the roughness of his voice a result of his struggle to stay distant.

You looked up at him quizzically, like you couldn't believe that was the question he was asking out of all the other possible ones, and your head shook slightly when you answered.

"Fine. It was fine. Cold…" you said absently as your fingers moved across his chest that poured heat, like you were contrasting the iciness of his current demeanor to the temperature that radiated from him rather than the difference of weather between Dunedin and Auckland. The sensation of your skin gently touching his was like torture, and it took everything in him not to rip your hands off of him.

Anders sighed through his nose and nodded his head slowly. "Good."

He felt like each time he opened his mouth, everything he had felt through the week would come spewing out, and he was determined not to disclose those flaws to you.

"How are you?" you dared ask, and all Anders could do was laugh in disbelief and shake his head. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye, his gaze instead focused on your hands that remained timidly on his chest.

"Absolutely perfect."

"Anders…" you pleaded, moving your head to try to meet his eyes, obviously seeing through the bullshit of his words.

"What?" he snapped, finally looking at you, his veil quick to fall and reveal the fury he wasn't very good at concealing.

"I'm sorry."

Your apology hit him like that arrow did Axl, piercing through the wall he built back up only to have it crumble down so easily, exposing his pain piece by piece. He huffed out another small laugh, his eyes darting to the side in fear that if he continued to look at you he would simply forgive you without hesitation.

He wanted to stay mad. He was furious.

His hands moved to cover his face and he swore through them, feeling so torn and deranged. He felt your hands drop from his body, and the loss of contact suddenly stung more than anything else had. His hands automatically reached for yours again, pulling you back toward him, and his eyes flickered back and forth between yours and your lips. Before he could think about what he was doing, Anders covered your mouth with his, demanding your next apology in the form of a kiss.

He was weak, Anders thought, his hands roaming your form that was ingrained in his memory and to his touch, the feel of you against him imprinted on him for eternity and quick to distract him from his earlier decision. With each pass of your tongue over his, he became more and more lured in, wanting to abolish his pain and focus on how good you made him feel and how much he knew he needed you. It was moments like this he could swear you were a goddess, the power you held outweighing the influence his own could ever have.

You hummed against him, bringing him out of his haze, his body betraying the very thing his mind was trying to prevent from happening.

Eventually you parted, both of you needing to resurface for air, drowning in each other but so desperately not wanting to stop.

Be mad, he reminded himself, but it was no use.

He had felt like a house of cards all week; the threat of toppling down from a simple pass of air looming dangerously, leaving him vulnerable and unsteady on his own. Being in your presence again reinforced him and gave him strength, the taste of your lips lingering on his awakening all the reasons why his mind could never win against his heart.

You stood staring at Anders for a moment, sharing panting breaths, your lips already feeling raw from his kiss. Was it possible his eyes had turned even bluer since the last time you saw him?

"I missed you,” he said in a hoarse whisper, the words sounding strangled, almost as if he was scared of telling you something as meaningful as that.

“I missed you, too,” you told him, observing the sincere, but struggling look on his face. Taking more of him in this time and no longer feeling as afraid to let your gaze linger on him, you noticed how tired he looked; the lines around his eyes more prominent, the blue of his irises barely disguising the dull gray that hinted at pain; all of those little details ones you could never forget regardless if after a week or a lifetime.

His proximity was enough to make you say everything that was in your heart, the words bursting to get out, his scent and radiating warmth a lethal combination without him trying, and you scolded yourself for how easy he made it to get you to talk even without the use of his powers.

Your mind pleaded for you not to say it, but as your heart hammered in your chest you could feel the words clawing their way up your throat at record speed. Swallowing thickly, your hand moved so you could trail your fingers up his cheek and across his brow and you noticed even more now the wearied, doleful presence that dulled his eyes. It seemed that each caress brought forward stifled feelings in Anders, the sadness in him switching to anger again.

"Why did you leave like that?" he demanded, his tone making your unsaid words form into a lump in your throat.

You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to find a way to help him understand exactly how he made you feel. It was always a myriad of things with him; excited, happy, whole, loved, scared. How could you begin to explain that he made you feel so good it terrified you?

When you didn't answer right away he backed away from you, a waft of cool air instantly replacing the warmth where his body had been.

Your mouth opened and then closed, and each time you parted your lips those three condemning words threatened to tumble out involuntarily, your heart and soul needing to free itself of the restraints you tried so hard to keep bound and safe.

"Because I-"

His eyebrows flew high on his head and he shrugged, his gestures exaggerated, prompting you to give him something. Your eyes followed him as he turned and walked further away from you, and as much as you wanted to follow him, your feet were rooted where you stood. When he turned back to glare at you impatiently, you finally managed to find your voice.

"I was scared, Anders!" you admitted, cowardly. How long would you be able to keep denying this for, you wondered, watching as Anders moved to lean against the back of the couch, his arms folding across his chest protectively.

"Scared of what?"

His voice was quieter than you expected it to be, and you wondered if he would coax the truth out of you whether you permitted it or not.

You sighed and dropped your head to look at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact in case the bastard did pull his powers out on you.

"You make me feel things that I have tried to avoid this whole time."

"Like what?"

You shook your head as tears stung your eyes, your tongue suddenly too big for your mouth as it desperately tried to block what you knew you wanted to say.

"What are you afraid of?" Anders asked again, this time louder, his frustration no longer disguised.

"Everything…"

You glanced up to see him push off the back of the couch to begin pacing back and forth, one of his hands covering his face as he tried to summon patience to deal with you.

"For fuck's sake," he mumbled to himself. "I thought what we had was good, effortless," he spat, stopping to look at you with honesty in his cerulean eyes, his hand motioning in the air between you. "Special…"

The last word trailed off but held so much honesty in it that your heart split open again, knowing how much damage you caused, and bile rose in your throat at the thought of it being irreparable.

"It is, Anders!"

"Then why the fuck did you leave?!"

His voice boomed through the apartment, the force behind his words triggering your own.

"Because I love you!"

A loud ringing resounded in your ears, and you felt all the blood that was in your face drain out of it only to be pumped forcefully through you again as your heart pounded ruthlessly, its beating deafening. The sound of your laboured breaths made you focus again, drowning out the blaring nothingness, a slight sense of alleviation beginning to take over your panic.

You could physically feel the binds breaking apart in your chest, your heart freed from its confines, and now that it was said, you stood waiting for the aftermath.

Anders faltered, sighed and put his hands on his hips. His expression was full of disbelief, like he didn't hear you or as if you had said something in a language he didn't understand. He looked down at the ground and pulled his bottom lip in his teeth, shifting his weight on his feet to take a step forward, but moved back again.

You kept quiet, and when he finally looked you in the eyes you could see how much emotion your confession brought out in him. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words didn't come.

Anders rubbed a hand over his face, the room so silent you could hear his palm scratch against his stubble. His mouth parted again, and this time he chuckled, but not out of humour or anger.

"Anders-" you started, but stopped when he walked toward you and cupped your cheeks, pulling you so close your lips grazed against each other.

"Please don't take it back," he pleaded, his hands holding your face so tight it was like he was making sure you wouldn't vanish along with your words.

"Never," you vowed, and his mouth connected to yours like he needed the air that was being held in your lungs.

His lips quivered ever so slightly, the smallest tremble of uncertainty and vulnerability that coursed through him unable to hide itself as it transferred onto you. You pressed against him harder, deepening your kiss to give him the surety he searched for, that you meant what you said and would never use it to trick or hurt him. He matched you with equal intensity, his tongue driving into your mouth that still tasted of your declaration, and in turn you relished in the taste and smell of him, the spiced aftertaste of scotch welcoming and familiar.

His hands moved up to cradle the back of your head, supporting you as you felt you were about to melt away under his touch, his body pressing into yours the longer you kissed as if you would simply fuse into one.

Anders moved away from your mouth, and your breathy gasp shuddered in the air as you drew a sharp inhale, the sensation of his wet lips traveling down your jawline to your neck eliciting needy moans from you. One hand returned to rest against your cheek, preventing you from pulling away as he licked at your throat, his tongue marking you with clear streaks, his lips sucking at your flesh that throbbed to the beat of your pulse. You could be lost here forever, drunk and satisfied from this alone, his tongue sending shivers through your whole body as it slowly trailed over your sensitive skin.

You clawed at his back, your nails attempting to tear through the dress shirt that covered him, feeling more desperate than ever to feel his skin on yours. He gripped under your thighs and pulled your legs up to wrap around his waist, your silent prayer being answered by him for yet another time, making you wonder if Bragi was able to read minds as well as make people obey his word.

His lips clashed with yours, sealing them together as he carried you to his room to set you down carefully on the bed. His chest heaved as he undid his buttons in a hurry, tossing the shirt somewhere in the room, and once his upper body was bare, he leaned forward and kissed you again. Your hands carded up his chest, catching in the soft, amber coils that your fingertips had longed for since you saw him last, and it seemed your touch sparked a similar impatience in him. He abruptly stood and pulled at the hem of your shirt, flicking it up and over your head only to meet you in a desperate kiss once it was discarded. His thumbs grazed across each of your cheeks in a sweeping motion that made your head spin, but not enough to stop you from working at freeing him of his pants.

Even though you were the one to do it, your heart rate sped up and arousal flooded through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling, becoming ever closer to reuniting your bodies and displaying what you felt for each other in the best way you knew how.

Anders hissed and nipped at your lower lip when you tugged his boxers down to expose his leaking cock to the cool air of his room, and he knelt between your legs and guided you to lay on the mattress, his lips still locked with yours as you slowly stroked his length.

"Fuck, why aren't you naked yet?" he growled, his cheeks red with frustration and lust when he pulled away from you to look you over. You swallowed thickly at his impatience and released his cock from your hand to shimmy out of your pants, your panties that were soiled by your slick going with them.

Anders slid his hand beneath your back and expertly unclasped your bra, roughly pulling it from you, battling with himself between wanting to take you hard to help carry out his pain, or continue with the terrifying reality of giving in to the tenderness he secretly ached for. As soon as he pressed his mouth on yours again, his decision was made, set in stone and written in the stars, his heart plunging further and further into the trap he vowed it would never get caught in. He could feel the strangled emotion bubbling up his airway - everything he fought for so long to suffocate boiling to the surface - the things he always believed he was unworthy of in front of him for the taking.

Your hips lifted and rolled, teasing the tip of his cock with your soaked core, your hands roaming across every part of his torso like you were trying to make purchase on his heart and soul, coaxing him to no longer fear bearing this part of himself to you. He felt the words choking him, and he swallowed hard and kissed your collarbone, a sound that resembled a cry he didn't recognize from himself sounding out against your skin when he opened his mouth.

Your soft whimpers brought him the focus he needed, drawing his attention back to worshiping your body, his confidence growing as he put his intentions back to the physical kind he knew he had every control over.

His tongue swiped across the curves of your breasts, making your nipples harden into pebbles, swirling his tongue and sucking until every nerve in your body was awakened with jolts of pleasure shooting through you.

Continuing to explore the body he could never get enough of, his hand slowly trailed down your waist, and lifting his hips away from you slightly, he allowed room to slip his hand between your bodies where his fingers delved in your wet folds. Slowly, he fingered you, his need for you increasing with each stroke on you; your walls clenching around him only to have him pull out to leave you vacant and eager for more.

Streetnoise crept in through the walls and window of his bedroom, and for the first time ever it felt distracting to him. Anders sat back on his knees and pulled at the sheets that lay crumpled behind him at the foot of the bed, dragging them up and over your heads as he returned to settle between your legs. You smiled at him as the sheets billowed with air around you, making his heart ache at the sight of you, knowing you were the very reason he was meant to exist in this world; as a mortal or a god, on Earth or in Asgard.

The sheets landed softly on top of him, and a comforting feeling draped over him like the high-end thread count itself, knowing that he was hidden away from everything and everyone else with you. He kissed you slowly, relishing in the fact that no one could reach either of you to judge or criticize, sheltered from denouncement and the need to defend what you had.

His cock lingered at your entrance, nestled comfortably in your folds without pushing through completely, your bodies in agreement to take their time. Anders softly broke your kiss and gazed at you, finally feeling unashamed to let his emotions show. He could feel moisture pooling at the corners of his eyes, his eyelashes damp when he blinked, and with a sigh he brought his forehead down to rest on yours.

A long moan sang out of you when he pushed inside your heat, his mouth returning to cover yours as if capturing the sound would allow him to hear it on repeat in his mind whenever he pleased. He wanted to pull these noises from you any time he was able to, wanted to wake up beside you every day and hear the words you confessed only moments ago. Being away from you only made him realize how undeniably hard he had fallen for you, and he wasn't going to let anyone convince him otherwise again.

He knew he needed you like a heart needed a beat, but even as he thrust deeper inside you, he continued to fight with himself to actually say it.

He pulled his face away from yours again, but still the words wouldn't come.

Frustration quickly began to take over, and as he pressed forcefully into you to push you to the brink, his doubts settled in around outside the sheets that shielded you.

Did you love him? Did he imagine you saying it? Was he so desperate to hear it from someone, anyone, that his mind created an illusion just so it could mock him later?

Another cry of pleasure escaped your mouth and you clenched around his cock, drawing him back. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he increased his pace, determined to prove what he couldn't speak.

How ironic, he thought, that the God of Poetry couldn't muster the courage to answer you with those three words, even when he knew he believed them.

"Oh my god," you called out softly, swimming in pure, wanton need, his name falling from your parted lips adding to his dizziness. Your praise echoed in his ears, and while he normally basked in it, knowing you worshiped him and his divinity, he questioned if even with the use of his talent he could be convinced that all of this was real.

You couldn't even manage to make her stay using your powers, could you?

Mike's indictment hovered over him like it was floating around just outside the covers - tormenting him - making the thought of speaking seem impossible.

Were you here because you wanted to be, or did you just fall for the shit-talking god whose only appeal was the charm dripping from his lips?

Anders let out a growl that resulted from the mix of pleasure and resentment, and as if you could sense his turmoil and blatant uncertainty, you cupped his face and kissed him with purpose, allowing him to find reprieve in being with you.

He carded his hands through your hair and looked at you with a penetrating stare, his voice dropping and words sounding far-off when he spoke.

"I need you to tell me-"

He stopped, the heightened control and slight tingling sensation in his veins vanishing as quickly as it came. He blinked and when he made eye contact with you again, it felt raw, like you were looking at the most exposed version of him.

"Tell me again," he requested, his voice honest and no longer laced with anything that would sway your response.

That dream-like mist lifted in an instant, the world coming back around you rather than falling away, your body still cradled by the mattress rather than feeling like you were floating as Anders' weight pinned you against it.

You knew right away what he needed to hear, and with or without him drawing it out of you using his gift, you would say it over and over until he knew it was true.

"I love you."

It was like you had stolen his powers, for when you said it this time you could tell he believed it. His eyes danced with a light that was so full of emotion, and you found it funny how you had thought earlier that they looked the most vibrant shade of blue you had seen them yet.

Anders crashed his lips against yours again, his kiss full of fervor and meaning, pressing into you so much that you could feel your body sink into the bed even more.

He gripped one of your legs to pull it up around his waist, grinding against you harder and deeper, his determination to say to you what he couldn't with words clear in his movements. You held each other tight, your bodies seemingly closer than they ever were before, both of you lost in the best way you knew how to express your love. Your hips rolled together in a synchronized motion, repeating the same routine you'd come to know and craved so much, your whimpering increasing as Anders pawed at your flesh.

He could feel his whole body tingling with his power; his magic lingering just below the surface of his skin, latent and pulsing through him in a way he'd rarely experienced.

Wanting to write poems on your skin with his lips, he dipped his face in the hollow of your neck, allowing you to moan softly beside his ear while he attacked you with kisses and gentle nips. Unable to catch his breath with how intense of a pace he was keeping, Anders tore his lips from you, focusing on sending you both through to your end, allowing you to return the favour by lifting your head slightly off the pillow to reach his neck.

It intoxicated you further; his hot, thick skin smelling of him adding to your frenzy and catapulting you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Come with me," you pleaded, your voice strained and needy, squeezing his back to aid in your request.

Anders gave a curt nod, angling his hips in a way he knew would take you both to the sought after high, and dipped his head back down again to slot his mouth over yours, his deep moans of pleasure muffled as he worked with unbridled passion.

With your bodies once more tuned in to each other, you let go of the strings that were barely keeping you together, your core tightening around his cock that pulsed into your depths as blinding pleasure took over, his mouth pressing onto yours harshly as he rode out your climaxes.

Slowly rocking until the rippling heat dispersed from every limb, your kisses turned softer, focusing now on the smoothness of your tongues and recognizing just how much you had missed this.

Anders gradually stopped the entanglement of your lips, pressing a final, gentle peck on yours as he pulled back enough to allow you to see his face. You reached your hand up, using your finger to brush away a drop from his cheek you were unsure was sweat or a tear, watching as he didn't attempt to hide whatever he was feeling from you.

"I love you, Anders," you repeated, seeing the relief at being reassured in his eyes. He flashed a faint smile, enough to pull out his dimples, and as he softened and began slipping from you, he rolled off of you onto his back, pulling you into his embrace.

Anders made love to you two more times through the night, hearing you recite the poem he wrote for you out loud countless times before you were taken by sleep, his limerick bestowed into your body and given a voice to be heard only by him.

Despite his own fatigue, his addled mind betrayed him and prevented him from finding rest; the words you spoke etched into him where they burned his skin, knowing he wouldn't find sleep until he let his heart say what it needed to.

You laid tucked up against him, your head on his chest with an arm and leg draped across his body, sleeping peacefully with your mind clearly at ease. His body begged him to close his eyes, but his mind continued to spin. Happiness filled him in knowing that you did love him, but anger mixed in with it at not being able to say it back to you, leading to a level of frustration he had a hard time imagining existed; that even the god of poetry couldn't get the words to fall from his lips, words that held more power than any others he had spoken from his silver tongue.

His hand slowly trailed up and down your arm in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay, but all he really wanted to do was scream from his irritation or wake you up so he could finally tell you.

His heart hammered in his chest and he was convinced that alone would wake you, yet he still feared that even if you were to wake that very second, he wouldn't be able to get it out anyway.

Anders clenched his teeth, desperate to say it and needing you to know, the fear he felt making his cheeks flinch as he fought himself over what to do. He never wanted you to regret saying it, to be embarrassed by your admission or worried he didn't reciprocate your love, and even still his cowardice won.

Exhaling deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves, he rubbed your arm with his thumb, and shifting enough to see if you were still sleeping, he peered down at your beautiful face. You stirred slightly, but your evenly tempoed breaths continued, the only change being that you gripped your arm tighter on his waist and sighed as you nuzzled into his chest more.

“I love you,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead.

His whole body coursed with adrenaline, knowing there was no hope of sleep for him now, and he smiled to himself that somehow the words didn't feel foreign on his tongue.

Anders woke with a start, realizing you were no longer beside him, your side of the bed cold. His stomach dropped and he felt panic rise in him until he heard the familiar sounds of you knocking about in the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling his nostrils as he drew a deep inhale.

A moment later you waltzed into the bedroom, a sweet smile adorning your face, wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts with the buttons unfastened to reveal your perfect form to him. You looked like the goddess you never had been but always were to him, holding two steaming mugs of coffee in your hands as you walked toward the bed.

"Morning," he said, his voice thick and raspy from the short but heavy sleep he had eventually succumbed to. He sat up against the headboard and shifted over a bit to make room for you to sit beside him, watching as you blew on your coffee before taking a careful sip.

"Morning, Anders," you purred, a playful glint sparkling in your eyes as you watched him over the rim of your mug before placing it down. "I figured you could use some coffee, I could tell you didn't sleep very much."

"Mm, yeah," he confirmed, absently. "Hey, come here a sec."

A very serious expression dressed his face, his eyebrows knitted closely together, and reaching for your hands that were warm from the cups, he pulled you to straddle his lap. His hands found your waist beneath his shirt, gripping you with a pressure that was gentle enough but showed his surety.

Opening his mouth to speak, he closed it again, rethinking his words, the power of Bragi seeming to fail him again. Instead, he kissed you, reaching up to cradle your face in his hands, the fervor in his kiss making you reciprocate eagerly and readjust your naked core on his lap.

Finding his courage in your touch, he broke away, his thumb landing on your lower lip to press on it gently before looking into your eyes.

Your name slipped off the curve of his lips, instantly spreading a dream-like warmth over you, your eyes locked on his as he began to speak in his soft, languid voice.

"I love you."

Feeling Bragi flit away, you blinked a couple of times, your heart racing, and your breath hitched in your throat as you did your best to comprehend what Anders said to you in your stunned state.

"I love you," he repeated, in his own voice this time, the help of Bragi missing from his words. "I love you as Bragi, and I love you as just me."

Tears stung your eyes, and as you grinned a beaming smile, a few fell on your cheeks. Cupping his scruffy cheeks in your hands, you kissed him, trying to buy yourself a moment of composure before trying to speak.

"You’re never just you. You’re everything. My god. My Bragi. My Anders."

He chuckled, the sound making your heart swell as much as the happiness on his face did, and tipping your head slightly, you said five words you never thought you would have the chance to utter.

"I love you, too, Anders."

---

Taglist:

@guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @sketch-and-write-lover @jotink78 @medusas-hairband @feeweeeee @missihart23 @fortheloveofdurin @i-am-still-bb @roobear68 @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @legolasbadass @spngingerbread21 @faeriefics

#anders johnson #the almighty johnsons #anders johnson x female reader #anders johnson smut #the almighty johnsons fanfic #dean o'gorman #anders johnson fluff

[blairsanne]

Do You Miss Me?

For the Deano Bingo 2022 event!

Prompts: Anders Johnson - "Admit it, you missed me." - Phone sex. The Almighty Johnsons - Anders & female Reader 1732 words

Summary: You go to Wellington for a few days and Anders doesn't think he can be patient anymore. CW: 18+, NSFW, smut, masturbation, phone sex.

“So, do you miss me?”

You shut your eyes as you leaned your head back against the plush headrest on the bed you were sitting in. It was your second night in a luxury hotel, hours away from Auckland on business. 

Hours away from Anders, whose purring voice through the phone only made you wish even more that he’d been able to join you. The swanky digs were exactly the sort of place he’d have loved, and you knew he’d have come up with some way to pass the nights after your work was over with.

“Hm, no,” you lied in a teasing tone. “It’s been nice having a couple quiet, restful nights.”

You heard him laugh on the other end of the line, knowing you were referring to his insatiable libido and the many long nights you’d spent at his flat only to wake up still tired the next morning.

“Oh good, then. Maybe you should stay in Wellington since you’re so much happier.”

You hummed, pulling your legs up against your chest as you glanced toward the tall window, the final rays of sunset fading to a cool blue din.

“Do you miss me?” you finally asked in reply, your voice no longer holding the same playful tone it had moments earlier.

“Every minute.”

You felt a flutter in your chest at his assertion, the low rumble of his response catching you off-guard. You wished you could see his face then, kiss the frown from it that you’d heard in this voice.

“Two more sleeps,” you assured him, feeling guilty now for having joked about it earlier. You heard him huff a bit, and you licked your lips.

“Not sure I can wait that long.”

You felt a chill, anxiety bubbling up in your gut. “What are you saying?” Was he going to break up with you? Go find some other company for the night?

“Are you alone right now?”

You frowned. “Of course I’m-”

“Humor me a little, hm?” he purred, and you shut your eyes as you recognized the low, echoing tones of his Bragi voice.

You sucked in a slow breath, simultaneously annoyed that he was using that voice on you when he knew it turned you on, and happy that he still wanted to.

“You are the god here,” you replied tensely, rolling your eyes.

He laughed again, under his breath. “Mm, that I am.” He waited a beat. “First I want you to start by turning off all the lights in your room.”

You chewed your lip, having a sneaking suspicion of where he was going with this.

“Can you do that, gorgeous?”

You reached over and flicked off the one lamp that you still had on, casting the room into a general darkness.

“It’s done.” “Can you describe the room for me? Where are you? What can you see right now?” “Mm…” 

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the low light, the only illumination provided by the street below but obscured by the sheer curtains. 

“I’m sitting in a king-sized bed, all by myself… It’s sort of dark now, but there’s a television on the wall, and a desk…”

“Is it warm or cold?” “It’s comfortable. The duvet cover is so silky it almost feels cool, but it warmed up where I’m sitting.” “Hm. And can you smell anything?”

You took a few deep breaths. “Like… someone else’s laundry soap. Clean, but strange.”

You heard him laugh through his nose, trying to keep it in. “Is there a window?” “Yeah, it’s tall and the sheers are letting in some light, even though it’s night now. It’s like a spotlight on the chaise lounge thing over there.”

“Hm. That sounds like a fun place to lay.” You snickered. “If you were here, definitely.” “I’m here with you.”

You sat up a bit straighter. “What? You came to Wellington?” “Here on the line. It’s just like if we were together.”

When you hummed in disappointed disagreement, his tone turned sultry again. “Close your eyes,” he purred, and so you complied as his voice echoed low and potent in your ears. “I’m right there, gorgeous, moving up your body. Can’t you smell my cologne? Can’t you feel my breath on your neck as I try to decide where to kiss you?”

You shivered, a tingling sensation moving up your spine. You opened your eyes, wondering if he truly understood the power he had over you.

“Anders?” “Mm?” “Where are you right now?” You heard the cocky grin in his voice. “I’m at home. All the lights are off, and I’m in my bed, wishing you were here instead of this pillow that smells like that shampoo of yours.”

You were touched by his admission, warmth spreading through your chest and over your cheeks at the sweet comment. “Two sleeps,” you repeated.

“What are you wearing?” “My silk pajamas.” “Ah, the little shorts and tank set?” “Yeah.”

He let out an appreciative hum. “I like those on you.” “I know.” He laughed. “What are you wearing?” “Just my watch.”

You squirmed a bit imagining that, wishing he was there with you and not back in Auckland. You let out a small groan. “You’re just teasing me now.”

He snorted. “Let’s tease each other, eh? If I was there with you right now, what would we be doing?” You took a shaky breath. “I suppose…” You shut your eyes and pictured him sitting in the bed beside you. “I’d sit on your lap, and press against you while you kissed me?” “Mm, yeah.” His heavy breath caused a static sound on the call. “I like it when you grind on me like that. I’d slip that silky top off. Worship those perfect tits of yours.”

You ran your hand over your own breasts, feeling your nipples bead up as you wished it was his hands and mouth instead. “Mm, and when you were done I’d lick your hot neck, and kiss you… lower… and lower… until-” You stopped short when you hear a hitch in his breathing. “Are you touching yourself, Anders?” “Aren’t you?” he asked in return just a little too innocently.

“Er- not just yet.” “Not yet?” He let out a small laugh, bedroom activities always seeming to fill him with joy.

You pulled your knees against your chest and ran your hand down the back of your thigh.

“Remember the other day?” he purred. “When you sucked on my fingers? God, that was so  hot.” He sighed happily. “Put your fingers in your mouth, gorgeous.”

You lifted your free hand to your lips, two fingers resting lightly on your bottom lip as you hesitated. You slipped them over your tongue, closing your eyes as you remembered the slightly salty taste of his skin that night.

“Suck on them like a good girl,” he continued, “and remember how good it felt when I fucked you. You made me so hard… and I couldn’t help myself… and you took me so well, baby.” You let out a small whine, remembering the night quite well as you squeezed your thighs together. You wanted him between them again as you pictured the hungry look in his eyes as he’d pressed his thick fingers against your tongue. He’d pushed one of your legs up as he’d filled you, his thrusts pushing him to your deepest points inside, and you’d gotten overstimulated by the time he’d had his fill.

“Good,” he praised, his voice dark with lust. “Now put those wet fingers to use where my tongue should be right now.”

You let your fingertips collect saliva as you dragged them out of your mouth, then did as you were told. You slipped your hand between yourself and your panties, wet fingers meeting wet folds that ached for your lover.

You breathed heavily against the phone, need flooding your senses.

“That’s my girl,” Anders praised. “Talk to me.” “It’s not fair,” you whined slightly. “Getting me so worked up when I’m so far away.” “Can’t help it, I’m afraid. I’m a bit of a bastard, so I’m told.” You laughed, and heard him join you. “It’s just… your mouth would feel so much better than my hand, you know?” He gave a low hum through the line, and you knew you’d affected him.

You put on a breathier voice, trying to work him up as much as he’d done to you. “You’re so good at making me come, so having to do it myself just feels mean now.” “Mm, when you get back to Auckland, I’ll make you come as much as you want.” You let out a quiet moan, knowing he was good on his word; at least when it came to sexual promises. There had never been a time with Anders where he didn’t satisfy you completely.

You slowly slid down until you were laying flat on the bed, your hand doing its best to stimulate your clit the way he did.

“What are you picturing right now?” he asked, voice ragged.

“You over me in your bed, pinning me down and being rough like the night we went to that movie last week.” “Oh yeah,” he enthused. “You begged for more, so I had to oblige.” “Such a thoughtful man,” you breathed, feeling yourself getting close.

“I can’t help it when you say my name like that.” You knew exactly what he meant, and did so then, your voice full of praise and wanton pleading. “Anders…”

The mental image of him fucking you hard and deep like he had that night soon pushed you over the edge, and you moaned as your orgasm washed over you, finally granting you relief.

“Fuck, you sound so hot right now.”

Catching your breath as your body calmed down, you didn’t reply, instead listening intently to him. You heard him mutter a bit more and then let out a groan that you knew meant he’d gotten off listening to you.

You slowly sat up, still holding the phone to your ear as you leaned against the headrest again. “Well, that was… unexpected.”

You both let out small laughs, and you could hear his grin.

“Admit it, you missed me.”

You chewed your lower lip, picturing him laying in his bed, naked and panting. Whether you’d admit it outright or not, you looked forward to being there with him in person next time.

---

A/N: I have to admit I'm pretty unsure about this whole thing, I hope it was alright. I had intentionally not put things from Anders's perspective because phone sex is sort of like that, but I think that's why I'm struggling with this fic in particular. I hope it was okay despite that, but if not, I'm sorry, haha.

Tags: Everything: @the-poldarkian @i-did-not-mean-to @the-butterfly-blues Almighty Johnsons: @midearthwritings @laurfilijames Deano: @feeweeeee Because we talked about it: @i-am-still-bb

If you'd like to be added or removed from any taglists please just let me know at any time! ♥

#deanobingo2022 #anders johnson smut #anders johnson #anders johnson x female reader #anders johnson x reader #the almighty johnsons fanfic

[silvermoon-scrolls]

No improving on perfection

Anders is in a bad mood, but Mitchell knows exactly how to cheer him up.

Content: Playing hard to get (not really), pre show(s) Pairing: Anders Johnson/John Mitchell Rating: Teen Words: 1200

Read on AO3

-

Anders kicked his apartment door closed behind him, dropped his keys on the coffee table, and threw himself down on the couch. His head draped over the armrest and his legs dropped nonchalantly in the lap of a slightly amused Mitchell – all in all, his form was doing a great impression of a wrung out cloth.

“Finally. It’s over,” he declared exhausted with all the bearings of someone who had vanquished the ultimate evil and saved the world with the smallest possible margin. In reality, the ‘beast’ that had been slain was ‘Christmas dinner with the Johnson family’. 

“Oh c’mon,” Mitchell said with a smile while putting away the book he had been reading. “It can’t have been that bad.”

“Trust me. I did you a huge favor not dragging you along.” Anders said, addressing the ceiling from his prone position.

“If you say so.” 

Anders frowned. It had sounded like a lighthearted comment, but Anders didn’t like the feeling of being questioned. He hadn’t even wanted to go. He might have been expected to show up, but he knew he wasn’t really wanted. The only reason he went was because Mitchell – stressing the importance of family – had insisted he’d go. Of course, Mitchell had also insinuated that he could come along, if Anders wanted to; but that was a firm ‘no’.

They had only known each other for about 3 months! They weren’t even really a couple. Were they? Surely, it was more of a long-distance, booty call sort of thing?

Annoyed by his own thoughts, Anders raised his resting head off the armrest – ready to defend himself. “Even if Mikkel likes to pretend he is a ‘regular, innocuous human’,” he said letting his disdain shine through, “he is still Ullr whether he wants to or not. I don't know if ‘vampire hunting’ is included in the Norse God of Hunting’s sets of skills, but personally I wouldn't be surprised if he could ping you as non-human right away.”

Mitchell looked like he was about to interject, but Anders had managed to work himself up into a temper and so he plowed on with a little more bite than he had intended. “And if you think that ‘surely he wouldn’t turn on his own brother’s guest without provocation’, then you should know that being my guest is likely all the provocation Mike needs. ‘Cause in his mind, the only reason I would show up to Christmas dinner with a vampire on my arm would be to purposefully stir up trouble. While I don't think he would stake you right then and there – with oblivious humans like Val and Axl present – I wasn’t keen to risk it.”

A lot of different emotions had played over Mitchell’s features during Anders’ heated monologue, but by the end a small smile appeared on his lips. “Careful there. It almost started to sound like you worry about me.” His teasing words were accompanied by a hand that playfully caressed the inside of one of Anders’ conveniently placed legs.

A grin spread across Anders’ face – his bad mood gone in an instant. But when he sat up, Mitchell withdrew his hand with a smug smile. Playing hard to get, eh? Anders thought, not at all discouraged.

“Forget about Christmas and my Anders-prejudice family.” He used a one-hand grip to loosen his tie – signaling that he was more than ready to take on Mitchell's offered challenge. “New Year’s is coming up. Now that’s a holiday much more in my speed.” He swung his legs down from his companion’s lap and with a grin seated himself next to Mitchell. “Booze. Partying. Girls in skimpy outfits.” He placed a hand on the other man’s thigh and squeezed while humming in his most seductive voice: “What more can you ask for?”

“How about some snow?” Mitchell said with a soft laugh pretending to ignore Anders’ advances by turning his head to look outside at the summer twilight. “Celebrating the new year during a heat wave seems wrong somehow. Does it even get dark enough for fireworks here?” The words might sound nonchalant, but the way the turn of the head exposed Mitchell’s neck was anything but. It was all part of the game. Anders should know; it was a move he had used numerous times to incite his guest’s vampiric cravings. And Anders had to admit it was doing a wonderful job on him too.

“Of course it gets dark enough.” Anders leaned in, placing several light kisses on Mitchell’s exposed neck. “But I’m usually busy creating sparkling fireworks of my own.”

Mitchell’s breath hitched pleasantly in response to the attention, but otherwise played successfully at being unaffected. “Have you planned any New Year’s resolutions?” he asked, still looking out the window as if he was determined to try to catch a glimpse of a small speck of frost in the New Zealand summer.

“No,” Anders snorted with a huff. “Why?” He was too busy nibbling on Mitchell’s earlobe to make any lengthy comments.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve got –ah– a change you want to make? To try to improve yourself?”

Anders congratulated himself on the wobble in Mitchell’s voice but decided that was enough subtleties. He grabbed hold of the other man’s shoulders and pulled himself on top of his lap, straddling him. “There’s hardly a need for improvements when you’re already perfect.” He smiled smugly from his new, superior position. “Or do you think I’m lacking?” His smile widened into a grin, and in case there was any doubt as to what his innuendo was referring to he slyly rubbed himself against Mitchell’s lap, making sure that all of him could be felt.

Mitchell laughed appreciatively. “Definitely not lacking.” He wrapped his fingers around Anders’ tie and pulled him in for a deep kiss before lightly shoving him back again. “And what about me?” he asked with a devilish grin, still with a tight grip around the tie.

The kiss left Anders hungry for more, but Mitchell’s sparkling eyes told him that they still weren’t finished with their little game. He angled his head and with a self-satisfied smile pretended to inspect the tantalizing body in front of him carefully before giving his verdict. “ You might be close to perfect,” he agreed, but then he scrunched up his face and pinched the sleeve of Mitchell’s washed out t-shirt. “But your clothing is anything but. If you really want a New Year's resolution you should let me take you shopping, get you some nice, tailored outfits to really show off your–” his eyes dipped low before coming back up again, “assets.”

“Since when do you care what I wear?” Mitchell laughed. “You're just gonna strip it off me anyway.”

“Can't argue with that.” Anders grinned, sensing that his persistent pursuit was about to be rewarded. “But think how stylish the pile next to my bed would look.” He hooked his index fingers in Mitchell’s belt loops, slid off his lap, and prepared to coax his willing prey with him to the bedroom when he was unexpectedly trapped by a long leg that wrapped behind him, pressing him forward.

Mitchell’s eager grin filled his vision. “How about a pile right next to this couch?”

~

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️

#britchellcontributionfest2024 #fanfic #the almighty johnsons #being human uk #anders johnson/john mitchell #britchell #mitchers #anders johnson #john mitchell #silvermoon writes

[ally-holmes]

Bamboozle

Day 14 of the 30-day short story challenge

Today's topic was provided by @silvermoon-scrolls and it happens to be an Anders Johnson fanfic. Sort of. It's Anders' birthday and he's lonely.

CW: it may seem hurt/comfort but it's more comfort than anything else

Words: 971

Also availabe on AO3

Here it goes:

Anders Johnson had never been easily bamboozled. From an early age, he learned to fend for himself.

On one hand, he was the second son of four siblings so his parents didn't have much time for him. Evidently, Mike and Axl were the ones who received more attention and love as the former was the firstborn whilst the latter was the youngest. Anders and Ty ought to keep up with the middle-child syndrome; however, Ty betrayed Anders by being highly temperamental and extremely needy.

On the other hand, Johan Johnson wasn't the best father of them all. He wasn't even mediocre. As the male god he was, Johan drank too much, hurt his wife, and ignored his children until he decided to leave them. Elizabeth Johnson, Johan's wife, took care of the children as a slave unintentionally halfheartedly. She loved them, Anders had no doubt about that, yet the idea of raising four gods that might end up just as disturbing as Johan was too much for her.

She abandoned them after Mike's 21st birthday.

At the time, Mike had lied to his brothers explaining that their mother had died. It seems obvious that one cannot just gather one's brothers to tell them that their mother, the goddess Freyja, had decided she rather turn herself into a tree than stay with her sons.

Anders was the first one to know the truth, as he was the next one on turning 21 and finding out he was the vessel of the poetry Norse god Bragi. The notion that he had been abandoned by his mother instead of orphaned struck him harder than it did the other two, yet he showed no emotions about it.

He bottled up his emotions, his feelings, his thoughts… Nobody cared. His brothers' behavior toward him had always been lacking one way or another but after the whole Val and Gaia issue, and then figuring out that by "the gods going to Asgard" the prophecy meant the part of them that wasn't human… Let's just say it wasn't ideal. Or pretty. Or nice.

Building up their human lives again when mortals had no memory of them was hard on everyone, sure, but none of them had relied on their powers to do their jobs as much as Anders had. Without Bragi's loquacity, Anders' world was doomed.

Or so he had thought.

Dawn, although without remembering much, was still an important piece of his PR business. She became so important to him that he had no choice but to make her his partner. That, of course, meant that he couldn't pile up his work on her desk anymore.

All in all, Anders had a regular life. Even without Bragi's powers, he was still cute enough to get as many girls as he wanted, the business was recovering thanks to Dawn, and his brothers seemed to be living their happiest lives. If only all that hadn't left him feeling left behind…

Everything was nice and good and fine. Sure, fine. He bottled up his feelings. Who cared? He hid his thoughts under the carpet. So what? Everything was marvelous. Splendid. Fantabulous!!

Then his birthday rolled by and for the first time, he had no strength to call his brothers annoyingly demanding for them to congratulate him. Anders sat on his sofa with a family-size bag of Doritos and watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy in their extended versions. His phone did not buzz a single time. Not even spam calls!!

Anders Johnson had never been easily bamboozled. He had always been able to catch people's ticks and pauses to know when he was being played. His deplorable situation explains why Anders didn't catch something amiss when Axl called him claiming an emergency with Zeb at their place. Axl had sounded so distressed that Anders had left the apartment without being a dick to his younger brother for not having congratulated him on his birthday.

Again, please take into account that Anders Johnson had never, ever, been easily bamboozled.

That night was different.

Closing his car door with a loud noise, Anders jumped the stars in twos to reach the main door sooner. He knocked at the wood with a steady rhythm. After receiving no answer, he tried the doorknob and pushed it open.

With strides as long as his legs allowed him he found himself quickly enough in the living room with a bunch of confetti being ejaculated into his face.

He blinked.

"What the fuck is going on?" He asked completely, utterly, and profoundly bamboozled.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" The room roared at him with laughter.

He blinked, again.

Ty was the first one to close the distance embracing him crushingly. Anders felt his eyes stung and he'd be dammed if he let himself go at a time like this in front of everyone. Before he was able to reorient himself, Axl was hugging him. Axl, the egg!! Mocking Anders' height, Axl in his giantness put his cheek on top of Anders' head. Mike's turn was somewhat awkward. Their history had not been even from the start, but their fraternal love was there as it has always been. Mike grabbed him by the shoulder, squeezed it as if trying to convince himself, and then he pulled Anders into a bear hug.

Having waited patiently while the brothers shared the birthday boy, Olaff, their granddad, forced the four men into a collective hug with him.

"Sorry about the call," Axl had the nerve to look apologetic. "We wanted to be a proper surprise this time."

"We totally bamboozled you this time, did we not?" Ty gave him a bear with a smug smile.

Anders, who had always been unable to keep his mouth shut, found himself at a loss for words. His bottled emotions, feelings, and thoughts were overflowing with affection. 

The end.

#30 days short stories #30 days #writing challenge #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #the almighty johnsons fanfiction #anders johnson #dean o'gorman #ao3

[jplupine]

Name: Harper Jensen

Birthday: July 16 | Age: Late 20s

Gender: Woman | Orientation: Heterosexual

Species: Human/Reborn God | God: Glod

Info: Harper was a cheerful young woman until she turned 21 and her godly powers became active. Being the reborn goddess Glod and having no clue how to control her powers, the flames became too much to manage. Harper recluded and ran away to stop hurting the ones she loved and grew to fear herself. With her sister, the two kept moving around from town to town as Harper slowly gained a grasp on her powers until one town they moved to turned out to have other gods. Harper finds solace in the unlikeliest of people- the god of things dark and cold. His patience and care help Harper to learn to control her powers, but not without turmoil and strife.

Love Interest: Ty

Fic: Embers | Theme: Deep Water by American Authors

#Embers #Harper Jensen #the almighty johnsons #the almighty johnsons oc #oc info #mood board #fanfic mood board #orange

[princessfbi]

Fanfic Origin Story

I was tagged by @bigfootsmom and @prettyboybuckley

What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

Charmed!

What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

For fanfic? Oh gosh I can't remember the first one. I know like writing in general I once wrote a story about saving a turtle that was a prince.

What’s a piece of advice you would give to your younger fic-writing self?

Don't be so hard on yourself. Rules are dumb. One day you'll get old and over caffeinated and realize that writing is your own mental exercise.

What’s an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback etc.)?

I don't think I ever did anything fandom wise until I got to 911. I lived in a pretty isolated fandom world until the pandemic hit and I got bored and wanted people to interact with Prince Buck AU some more. From this though three things come to mind:

@buddie-buddie and I freaking out about ankles

@lovebuck leaving a comment on one of my fics. NO! Wait even a kudos I believe. I remember calling my friend to tell them.

@like-the-rest-of-la drawing the picture of the upside down kiss for Spider-man Eddie and Hawkeye Buck after @mellaithwen and @mandzuking17 and @mistmarauder heckled me into writing it. You can see the mayhem here!

Post a sentence or two from one of your older fics, and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

I think a lot of my older fics are gone because I made the move to Ao3. But here's one from an Almighty Johnsons fic that made the transfer.

Anders was the mortals' songbird. They wanted to hear his voice, wanted him to talk to them.

Here's a couple of sentences for the upcoming part three of kink club au!

A single point of contact and it was like summer against him, warm and all encompassing. All of Buck’s marks, all of the spots Eddie had touched him, lit up like a Christmas tree until he was tingling all over.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #writing talk #alrighty johnsons #911 fanfic #my fic writing #tag game #Charmed

[lakritzwolf]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ♥️

You know how hard it was choosing only five? But hell yeah, these are definitely highest up the list! Thank you!

Until the sun will cease her sway Fandom: The Hobbit Pairing: Fili/Kili Words: 69,344 Chapters: 23/23

Unintended Consequences Fandom: The almighty Johnsons Gen Words: 86,088 Chapters: 36/36

Do not go where I can’t follow Fandom: Spartacus Paring: Agron/Nasir Words: 58,191 Chapters: 19/19

Sometimes there is no choice Fandom: Shadowhunters Pairing: Lorenzo Rey/Andrew Underhill Words: 25,636 Chapters: 9/9

It’s not the End Fandom: Deus Ex Human Revolution Pairing: Adam Jensen/Frank Pritchard Words: 91,287 Chapters: 26/26

Honourable mention:

I have never had so much fun writing as I did with this one. It’s a fanfic of a fanfic from my dear friend @linane-art, in which the question arose if shells had superheroes. And thus, Captain Shelley was born. He has a secret identity, his superpower is the sonic snap, and supported by his trusted sidekick Shelldon, he fights a bunch of nazi crabs.

The incredible adventures of Captain Shelley

Oh, and the pipefish are the maritime equivalent of twitter.

#Lakritzwolf's writing

[onlydemonz]

Welcome.

Thank You 4 Choosing OnlyDemonz.

...

Speak with TheDevil?

Yes~ No

Wise. You shall be connected now.

...

Logged in

...

...

TheDevil? R u here?

...

...

DON'T talk like that.

S--Sorry, I-

Read This. No, chatter from you, yeah?

BEWARE! This is a HUGE WARNING TO THOSE WHO DON'T LIKE CRAZY, AND WE ARE TALKIN' CRAZY, SHIT!

For this account is full of gorey, gnarly, sexually intensified, explicit, kinky, crazy, mature, can be very fucked up at times, smutty SHIT!

Shit that might make some of your guts feel a little...twisted.

There will RARELY be times fluff will be involved.

These smut-the-fuck-up fanfics are to be enjoyed. Not punished. DO NOT want to come on Tumblr to find the account suspended or something! WANNA FREE WRITE PLEASE! But also share with those who can appreciate a little hardcore. Tumblr seems to have liked-minds, so this felt like the place.

About the reader.

The reader will always go by [F/n],[L/n], Dr.[L/n], etc. You can insert any name you would like to. The fanfics are made to be as immersive as possible. Want you to feel like you are actually there in your mind. So, many physical attributes of the reader will be decided upon you.

However, the fanfics will always be [F/M]. Meaning, the reader will always be a biological woman with a biological male character. Does not matter how many men are in it. Love triangles, love hexagons, whatever. Reader will stay a biological woman and male characters will stay biological men.

The reader might be a pyshcopath or a murder spirit. Perhaps she is a pervert. In this account, the reader in these fanfics is not always gushy. She can be ruthless. Egotistical. Homicidal. Volatile. Sick and depraved in the head.

Not only can the reader be scary, but the characters of the fanfics can be as well. They can be written to be just as heartless and sexually sick as the reader, but they can also be submissive.

Remember, these fanfics are not to make your heart flutter. Well, only occasionally. It is mostly to get your heart pumping. Show you another side to fanfics that some of us are not afraid of reaching. A dark one.

If you do not like what you have read so far, please exit this page. Thank you.

...

For those willing to stick your hand into dark side, it shall continue.

Fandoms

Fandoms can vary. Currently stuck on FULL Rick Grimes mode [from The Walking Dead] right now. So, most of what is written in the start of this account will either be about him or he will be a side character in the fanfic regardless.

There are a few fandoms that are dabbled in. For suggestions on fanfics to write, are all the fandoms that can be or evenually will be written about.

ZNation.

Fear The Walking Dead.

Breaking Bad.

Sons of Anarchy.

Altered Carbon.

The Almighty Johnsons.

Trailer Park Boys.

American Horror Story.

Warm Bodies.

Horns.

Her.

The Office.

More will be added. Do not care if it is movies or tvshows. Whatever has the hotties in it and that has been seen. Can not make a sincere fanfic about a show/movie never watched. However, video games are different. Will write about video game male characters from games like, Life is Strange, The Last of Us, Final Fantasy, etc.

However, please do not shy away from recommending tvshows/movies/videogames to write about. Willing and open to write about pretty much any male character.

The Hardcore Stuff

Will say right now that topics in these fanfics can be very graphic. Not being sensitive to your feelings nor any beings. If you are reading these fanfics, you have accepted these terms above and below this pinned post.

Please do not report this account, fanfics, artwork, post, etc. It is quite unfair to see all the hard work put into this account be in vein.

There are kinks, fetishes, shameful acts, etc, that can and could take place in a fanfic. Some kinks and fetishes will not be as extreme as others. There is a boundary. A limit. The list of kinks and fetishes will include..

BDSM (Gagging, Bondage, Dominance, Submission, Blindfolds, Choking, Humiliation)

Voyeurism

Cockold

Exhibitionist

Masochism

Sadism

Blood Play

Abrasion Play

Impact Play

Nylons

Smoking

Roleplay

Underwear

Wax Play

Spit Play

Consensual-None Consensual

Somes (Threesomes, Foursomes, etc)

So far, that is about it for the kinks and shit. There is no vomit play, pee play, scat play, or underage/minors. Keep those recommendations away!

This is not really part of the hardcore section, but drugs and alcohol will most definitely be present in these fanfics. Whether it be Marijuana or a shot from Jim Dean, it will be hinted in the fanfic one way or another.

Next, we have the gnarly crap. Blood, gore, abuse, and non-consensual are most commonly and/or heavily present in these fanfics. Adds more realism to the fanfic depending on what it is about.

The least present of the gnarly stuff is self-harming, ending ones life.

Conclusion

If you read this far, then you are done. Everything has been put on the table. Boundaries have been set, and no one who does not want to be here or read these fanfics, will not be apart. Just block and move on if the account really bothers you.

This account is only for those who truly want to step into the dark side. Let us delve in the fucked side of life together but now, you are the one in control. Most of the time. Enjoy your stay here. Hope you come by often.

...

Well, there you have it. Any questions?

Yes, I-

Don't care. Write them in the comments or whatever. Will be answered evenually. Thank you, bye!

W-wait-

Logs off

...

...

Thank you very much for reading and visiting the OnlyDemonz page.

We hope your chat with TheDevil was full of advice.

Please enjoy your stay here in our lovely abode.

...

Goodbye? or See You Again Soon?

[ao3feed-thehobbit]

I know things

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/SxLf5si

by Metztlilua

Essentially, Anders gives Mitchell a blow job but my righteous ass couldn’t write it without some stuff at the beginning (so mild porn and boring stuff at the beginning) Written for Gathering fiki’s 12 days of Christmas event and first (second?) public smut I think

Words: 1974, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of 12 days of christmas 2022 (GF)

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Almighty Johnsons, Being Human (UK)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Underage

Categories: M/M

Characters: Anders Johnson, John Mitchell (Being Human UK)

Relationships: Anders Johnson & John Mitchell (Being Human UK)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Being Human (UK) Fusion, underage Anders, Consensual Underage Sex, Underage - Freeform, Blow Jobs, Public Blow Jobs, Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Why Did I Write This?, terribly written fanfic, fanfic of some sorts, school au, mitchell is a good teacher, something about candy

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/SxLf5si

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #the hobbit

[sunnys-day]

🌹🌹🌹

"How you can speak so confidently while being so wrong is impressive."

-Dis to Thorin for my WIP Thorin's Daughter

**

**

They all watched as she made a water bubble and picked the fish up, holding it in front of her as it happily swam in the miniature stream she’d created.

“Oh look, a wee little trout.” The smile she gave read as shocked innocence, causing the dwarves to let out the laughter they'd been trying to hold in. “I’ll just…” she placed it in the fountain that sat in the center of the room and turned back to the Lord of Rivendell, switching tactics when he was still not amused. Manipulating the water so it floated above them. “Or not… you know, I’ll just take it back to the river.”

She went to leave when he called to her once more. He treasured their elemental and all she could do and did for their people but flooding the city was something he didn’t have time for.

“Taika”

“Yeah?”

“No more magic my little fae"

-The elemental

**

**

“Anders, I am at work”

“So am I.”

“Yeah but when I say it, it means I’m actually doing something.”

-The Healer and The Poet WIP (the almighty johnsons)

Thank you so much for this!! I've never gotten an ask before and was really excited for this. I have entirely too many WIP so it was hard to pick which ones.

#the hobbit #the almighty johnsons fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #thorin #dis parity #anders johnson #wip #ask me questions #answered ask #thank you #the almighty johnsons

[laurfilijames]

All To Himself

Pairing: Anders Johnson x female reader

Words: 2,334

Warnings: rated E, 18+. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Anders’ birthday plans for you get spoiled when you end up sick on your big day, but he finds a way to make it even more perfect than imagined.

A/N: wishing my dear @blairsanne the happiest of days, despite being sick. You deserve all the good in this world, and I hope you’ve managed to find the best in your special day even with a rotten cold 💗💗love you heaps!!

———

Dinner reservation; check.

Flowers ordered; check.

Gift; check.

Anders ticked all the boxes on his mental list of the things he needed to prepare for your birthday celebrations tonight; keen on making it the best one you'd ever had, an excited smile already tugging at the corner of his lips that pulled out his dimples.

It was all a surprise, and knowing how you always seemed to figure things out whenever anybody tried, he was hell-bent on making it a success. Now that he had everything organized, and had even recruited Ty and sent him on his way to deliver the flowers to your office, he sat back in his chair and began to focus on work, knowing Dawn would be nagging him if he didn't accomplish a single bit of work in addition to sneaking out early- which come to think of it, had neglected to tell her.

"Oh, Dawn?" he called out across the room.

"Yes, Anders?" she asked, not looking up from her computer with a hint of annoyance laced in her voice.

"I may or may not be leaving early today."

She looked up, her expression letting him know she definitely was annoyed and questioned him in that same tone she'd done so many times before. "Which one is it then?"

"Which one is what?" Anders scrunched his face, confused at what she meant, his mind already gone to being with you later.

"Are you leaving early or not?"

"Yessss…" He drew out his response, lingering on the 's' in hesitation as he watched her reaction, his lips pursed. Her eyes rolled and her bob swayed with the shake of her head, but she remained silent. Relieved it wasn't as terrifying as he expected it to be, he opened his laptop and made another attempt at starting his work. "Thanks Dawnsie, you're the best!"

"Well, even if I said 'no', it wouldn't matter would it?"

He chuckled, chewing on the end of his pen. "No."

She smiled at him, her head tipping to the side in that sweet way she did when she was genuinely happy about something. "Plus, it helps to know that your playing hooky is all being done in the name of love."

"Yeah, yeah. Back to work," he pretend-scowled, choosing to ignore her little remark even though it left him smiling to himself behind his screen.

His cell phone rang a short while later, your name coming across the screen making him quickly drop the call with a client he was on the work phone with to answer you instead.

"And how is my birthday girl?" he purred, leaning back comfortably in his chair.

"Sick." Hearing your voice come across congested followed by a small sniffle made him sit forward again; worry instantly filling his gut.

"Shit, really? Are you okay? What do you need?"

"I don't know," you whined. "Sleep? A cuddle? I just want this day to be over." He could hear your distress through the phone, and his heart sank, knowing you were trapped at work and would be overworking yourself right until the day was done, and that there was no way he'd be taking you out tonight.

"I'm so sorry. This truly isn't fair," he sighed, pinching the skin between his eyes with his forefinger and thumb.

"Ah, it's just as well," you said dismissively, like your special day suddenly meant nothing important.

"Is there anything I can do?" Anders asked, his heart sinking further into his stomach by the second.

"Nah, I'll be fine, thanks. I suppose I shouldn't be seeing you later then, I don't want you to get sick too." Your voice sounded so defeated and deflated, and he hated the thought of you being alone on your birthday, having been excited to celebrate in some way despite you saying the opposite now.

"I'll be fine, I want to see you. Just… call me later when you're home, alright?"

"I will."

He waited for you to hang up first, certain that you wouldn't call him later, and already he was trying to think of ways to rectify his plans and manage to give you a happy birthday anyway.

Anders stood in your bedroom, his jacket and dress shirt removed and placed on the end of your bed, turning his wrist to check that there was only another thirty minutes left before you were set to arrive home. He shimmied out of his dress pants and reached for the bag he had brought, grabbing his track pants and a t-shirt out of it and actually feeling slightly relieved he no longer had a reason to be stuck in his stuffy suit for the rest of the day.

As he walked through your apartment, he double checked that everything was as he wanted it after changing plans, lighting candles as he went. He managed to get Ty to deliver the flowers to JPR instead with only a small argument from his brother who shouted at Anders that he had already made it to your office and was about to walk in through the door; thinking it would be better to give them to you privately now, aware your coworkers would make a big fuss and pester you when you were barely managing to survive the day as it was. But that was easy compared to what he had to do to get dinner here; having to use Bragi to convince the chef to make your favourite dish to go despite the restaurant not offering take-away of any kind. It smelled perfect, staying warm in your oven, almost as good as the single cupcake that sat on a plate on your countertop; the rich chocolate frosting making his mouth water as he pressed a candle down through its center.

Your door opened and he listened to you kick off your shoes and shuffle through to the kitchen, your face lighting up in surprise as your eyes landed on him.

"Happy Birthday, gorgeous," he said softly, stepping toward you to take your bag off your arm and set it on the floor beside you before taking you in his arms, feeling your whole body relax into his hug.

"Anders-"

"Ah, before you start: I wanted to, and yes you deserve it." He smiled and you couldn't help but join him, suddenly feeling the best you had all day.

"You're the best," you sighed, going in for another hug, smiling into his shoulder as you felt his hands run up and down your back.

"I know," he chuckled, making his belly press out against you as he held you even closer. "Now, go get something comfy on and come join me for dinner."

"You brought dinner?" you asked, turning to go toward your bedroom.

"Yes, from your favourite spot to boot!"

You poked your head around the door frame in shock, knowing that the restaurant didn't offer take-out. "How?!"

Anders gave you a pointed look, his eyebrows raising high on his forehead, one hand lifting to gesture what should have been obvious.

"Oh, of course. Many thanks to Bragi, then!"

You came out minutes later, dressed in your softest lounge pants and a tank top, partly wishing you were well enough to be dolled up and out on the town, but the way Anders looked at you now like he would devour you on the spot had a warm flush rising up your chest.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, making your head feel dizzier from that more than your cold.

"So much better, actually. I'm really happy you're here." You walked toward him and slid your hands up his chest and around the back of his neck; his flesh thick and warm on the palms of your hands as you scratched his hair at the base of it.

"Good." His eyes were steely, and you would've been completely lost in them if he hadn't leaned in and pressed his lips against yours; softly first, and then eagerly.

Breaking your kiss, Anders pulled away from you, looking at your swollen lips as he tried to steady his breathing. "Are you hungry?"

Your tongue darted out of your mouth, savouring the taste of him as you licked your lips, the sight making his cock ache and resolve begin to fade.

"Not really…" you lied, the smell of the food making your stomach growl in protest, but right now your focus was on a different kind of hunger that demanded attention. "Are you?"

His eyes narrowed and a wicked grin stretched out his lips, making your mouth feel dry as you swallowed thickly.

"Very."

You don't know how it happened, but soon you were out of the clothes you had just put on and laying in your bed with Anders covering you with his own naked body, his ardent kisses leaving you breathless as he traveled down your neck to your chest, his lips and tongue replacing his hands on your breasts to make your nipples harden even more. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure taking control as his nimble fingers dragged up and down through your slit, and you watched his cock twitch in anticipation before your eyes fell shut as he dove them inside your core. He fingered you until even he couldn't take it anymore, shifting to line his weeping tip to your entrance and press inside your tight walls, his moan of satisfaction quieted by yours. His hips rolled against you slowly, but in deep, coaxing motions, reaching the sweetest parts of you with each plunge in, the hairs above his cock rubbing expertly on your clit. He smiled into the hollow of your neck as your nails dug into his shoulders and back, your legs lifting higher on his hips to allow him to fuck you deeper while spreading them apart further; your body giving clear instruction to what you wanted as your mind was lost in ecstasy. He smoothed his hand up the back of your thigh, giving reassuring squeezes as he picked up his pace, feeling his own demise creeping in quickly.

"Good girl," he panted in your ear, his voice rough as he succumbed to his lust, aware of the effect those two words would have on landing home your climax. The bed shook and banged lightly against the wall in time with his thrusts, his pace and efforts reddening his skin and forming a layer of sweat that helped him glide against you even more.

"Anders!" you cried, signaling your descent into euphoria, and with that he hammered into you, pounding the spot that made you sing his name in repetition and clench his already leaking cock tightly. You shook beneath him as your orgasm tumbled through you; the feel of his hot spend wetting you more as it spilled from you as he continued to pump in and out, extending your climax to a point it felt like it would never end. Your chest heaved but before you could try to catch your breath, Anders captured your parted lips in a forceful kiss, his tongue trying to claim you as if his body hadn't already. Slipping from you with a low growl, Anders shifted to lay beside you, his arm resting heavily on the pillow above his head as he fought for air.

"Are you alright?" he asked, peering over at you with a serious expression; hoping he didn't provoke anything that ailed you.

"That was just what I needed," you hummed, taking his hand that rested between your sated bodies with yours and intertwining your fingers.

"Hmm, and what else do you need?" he asked through a smile, pleased with himself that he had satisfied you so well.

"That delicious meal that's in the oven."

A hum of pride passed through his lips as he sat up and turned onto his side, pressing a haste kiss to your lips before springing out of bed. "That I can do!"

He pulled his pants on without any boxers underneath, and shirtless, he trudged through to your kitchen. The sound of plates and cutlery being set out echoed through as you redressed yourself, and it wasn't until you joined him in the kitchen that you noticed the beautiful bouquet of flowers and the cupcake sitting in wait on the counter.

"You really outdid yourself, Mr. Johnson," you drawled in your sick voice, leaning in to smell the fragrant blooms that graced you even with your cold.

"I had something else planned," he started to explain, walking toward you. "But if you ask me, I prefer this better." His hands found your cheeks and cupped them as he pressed a slow kiss to your lips, making you melt to his touch once more and for what you had a feeling wouldn't be the last time either.

It was hard to believe it could be possible, but somehow your favourite meal tasted even better in your own home, eaten from your own inexpensive plates, across from a shirtless Anders who seemed to be enjoying this far more than he would have at the restaurant.

After it was cleaned up, you laid on the couch together watching one of your most cherished films that you'd seen a million times, the remnants of the shared cupcake on the coffee table in front of you.

Your fingers languidly stroked the fuzzy hairs on Anders' arms while a sleepy and completely content feeling washed over you, making the symptoms of your pesky cold diminish to almost nothing.

As Anders held you close to his chest, feeling the rise and fall of your breaths against him through your back and inhaling the perfect scent of you as his face rested on the top of your head, he couldn't think of a time he felt happier to have had his plans foiled. He smiled again - so many times now today he wouldn't be able to count - elated to be at home with you; the birthday girl all to himself.

———

Taglist:

Everything: @guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @sketch-and-write-lover @jotink78 @medusas-hairband @feeweeeee @missihart23 @fortheloveofdurin

#happy birthday blairsanne 🥳💗 #anders johnson #anders johnson x female reader #anders johnson smut #anders johnson comfort fic #the almighty johnsons #dean o'gorman #the almighty johnsons fanfic

[silvermoon-scrolls]

Bed Tied

Anders has agreed to let Mitchell tie him to the bed for the evening, even though the idea of it makes him a bit uncharacteristically uneasy. And turned on. And uneasy about being turned on.

Content: Intense foreplay, including: light bondage, dom/sub, praise kink Pairing: Anders Johnson/John Mitchell Rating: Explicit Words: 3k

Read on AO3

Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated ❤️

#fanfic #the almighty johnsons #being human uk #anders johnson/john mitchell #britchell #mitchers #anders johnson #john mitchell #silvermoon writes

[ally-holmes]

Crown

Day 20 of the 30-day short story challenge

Today's prompt was crown and for that, I rescued my fic "A Deal with Hades" and added a little extra. Fandom: The Almighty Johnsons. Pairing: Anders Johnson x Fem!Hades. Words: 912. CW: natural death/afterlife

Here it goes:

Deep inside Anders would've liked there was rain. Something to accompany his own gloomy mood.

The graveyard was quiet and sunny. Anders hated it.

He tore his eyes from the closed coffin and glanced at the crowd. That was quite a gathering. In the end, his younger brother lived a long, fulfilling life next to Gaia and was always accompanied by his best friend Zeb. Anders was certain there had always been some sarcastic joke around Axl's titanic height compared with his three brothers, but at that moment he was unable to catch it.

Axl's large frame was resting inside the coffin. His children and grandchildren were there to say his last goodbyes. Gaia cried silently in Zeb's embrace. Friends and colleagues also came to pay their respects. As well as Mike's and Ty's children and grandchildren. Odin gracious, Ty and Dawn brought into this world no less than six children!!

Ander's eyes abandoned the wrinkled faces of those adults who were once small helpless babies crying in his arms and diverted his attention to the gravestones next to Axl's. Olaf, Mike, and Ty were already three feet under. Hanna and Dawn as well. Time had passed way too violently for his taste.

A warm soft hand slipped under his and the intrusion was welcomed. He had always felt calm and loved with Aïdi's attentions.

Due to his new status as the god of Persuasion, guaranteed by Hades after their deal, Anders was immortal, and as such he'd been fake-aging next to his wife not wanting to awaken suspicions over their nature. Anders had awaited for the precise moment to leave the mortal realm and move to the Netherworld with Aïdi… with Hades.

Now was the time.

No matter how much he loved his brothers' children and grandchildren, they were not his brothers. Only in his hands was the possibility of spending time with them now that they had passed away, and he was not going to accomplish it on Earth.

"I'm ready." Hades kissed him on the shoulder to his statement.

The first thing Anders did after seeing Hades' palace for the first time was to steady himself seeing as his knees became weak. The palace was stunning and luxurious, filled with the blue aura provided by the fire of life. Aïdi was in full Hades mode, and that turned him on to no end. As a god, she was taller than as a human, her skin was bluish and her hair floated over her head in blue flames. Those intense white eyes were Anders' perdition.

Evidently, they Christianized the palace in a sexy way; although Anders found it difficult to voice that term out loud. He would never forget that he was married to a fucking god whose job was to care for the dead and the Netherworld.

Time there passed differently than on Earth and before he knew it, Hades informed him that Gaia and Zeb had also passed away. Suddenly it was time to do the coronation ceremony. He'd married Hades in the mortal realm on mortal terms, but also signed one of Hades' famous contracts that trespassed spheres. The only detail to tie it down was his position in the netherworld.

The likeness in terms of title between both planes was uncanny. Hades was king, lord, and maximized authority in the Netherworld. Nowadays not even Zeus can depose Hades from her realm. One might think that terms such as king, lord, or god are male ones for someone using feminine pronouns, but let us remember that Hades existed before humanity, before language itself. Hence the improbability of finding a proper term to name someone like her. Thus, as Hades was king, Anders was bound to be the king's consort.

Such a ceremony had never been performed in the netherworld, but it was huge for being labeled as an intimate one. None of Hades' family crawled down from Mount Olympus to take a peak of the human she had transformed into a god. Anubis did come, however, and it was the first time Anders' had felt true honest fear. That jackal head!!! Those fangs!!!

On the other hand, Anders' granddad and brothers were there hand in hand with their wives (plus Zeb). It had been the first time they had traveled from the Kiwi death realm to this one and they did it with the same appearance as when they were still gods. Axl, who had suffered from chronic pain in his last years, was the one enjoying the arrangement the most.

The ceremony went smoothly and by the end of it, he was dressed in a tailored black suit with a navy blue tie, a blue-flame lapel pin, and a silver crown. It wasn't as gorgeous as Hades' but it was still encouraging.

Hades had always been fond of guests and so she prolonged the Johnsons' stay in her palace for Anders' peace of mind.

Ty mocked him about his crown. Dawn wanted to try it out whilst Anubis' cats surrounded her mewing for pets. Mike looked at him proud-like, which was unnerving. Olaf never gave up his mystic quotes and high poetry as he intended to give Anders some advice. Axl just hugged him multiple times as if wanting to remind Anders that he was loved and missed.

The crown was supposed to be heavy with the weight of responsibility, yet it felt light as if he could finally breathe and be himself for all eternity. 

The end.

#fanfic #fanfiction #dean o'gorman #anders johnson #the almighty johnsons fanfiction #fem hades #hades #30 days short stories #30 days #crown #short stories #writing challenge #writing prompt

[jplupine]

Don't look at me- I swear I'm making these while also writing!

For the fic Embers and made using Canva

#Embers #ty johnson #the almighty johnsons #harper jensen #nordic gods #oc x canon #fanfic mood board #mood board #orange

[bisexualmultifandommess]

Finding content about The Almighty Johnsons that isn’t centred on Anders or paints his brothers in a bad light is so difficult lmao

My favourite character is Axl but the ao3 and fanfiction.net tags are filled with mostly Anders centric fics and some make him out to be a saint when he can be a dick sometimes (I love him but it frustrates me) so I can’t really find good Axl centric fics

I swear there’s more crossover fics centered around Mitchell from being Human then any of the actual characters in the show 😂

#the almighty johnsons #fanfiction #fanfic #axl johnson #I do like anders but the way almost every fic is about him drives me insane #I just want axl content lmaoo

[ladyburuma]

Mitchers/Britchell WIP snippet

Anders stood outside the tattoo parlor, staring nervously at the sign over the door.

Mitchell Tattoo and Piercings, it read.

He took a deep breath for courage, and pushed the door to the parlor open. Once inside, Anders had a look around. The sitting area was made up of ugly yet comfortable looking couches and chairs with colorful cushions. Directly across from that was the actual tattoo parlor, with three different work stations on one wall and desks by the windows across the way. The wall in the back held an alcove where a chair sat surrounded by shelves holding items for piercings.

At the front desk was a pretty woman who appeared to be in her late forties, with long light brown hair and light green eyes. She looked up from whatever she was doing and smiled at Anders.

“Hello,” she said, her Irish brogue was thick and melodic.

“Um, hi,” Anders replied, walking up to the woman. “I have a terrible tattoo that I need covered.”

“Oh, you’ve come to the right place, my dear!”

At that moment a door adjacent to the waiting area opened and out walked three men, all nearly identical to each other. One was obviously older than his two counterparts; a father and his sons, perhaps. All three men were tall, at least six feet, and had dark curly hair. The father’s also had streaks of grey and the stubble on his handsome face was thicker.

“Hello, darlings! We have a client here for a coverup! Who wants this one?”

One of the sons walked towards Anders and the woman. He wore jeans with tears at the knees, black Vans, and a fitted black tee. He had an errant curl that fell in front of his very handsome face and Anders just knew that he was staring. The blond averted his eyes to the sleeve on the man’s right arm: a Lord of the Rings piece, Anders noted.

“I’ll get this one, ma,” the man said to the woman. He then walked up to Anders and stuck out his hand. “I’m Johnny.”

Anders shook his hand. “Anders,” he replied, doing his best not to be hypnotized by Johnny’s hazel eyes. Johnny smiled at him (a fucking gorgeous smile) and gestured for him to follow to one of the work areas behind them.

John lead Anders to the first work station and waved at a chair, indicating for the blond to take a seat.

#britchers #mitchers #fanfic #work in progress #AU #anders johnson #john mitchell #the almighty johnsons #being human uk