heratheanon

[heratheanon]

🔊 for Derek and Ryne?

Ok. So I'm going to answer these separately, but if you want a couple-song with the same kind of breakdown, just shoot me another ask.

The good news is that there's not a lot of memorable songs in Bad Samaritan. The less good news is that this was a challenge because using Carlito's own songs felt like cheating.

Derek: Turning My Life Around from Anna and The Apocalypse

I’m going to try to stick to actual canon and extrapolations from that, not any expansion I did while writing Derek, but the line might blur a bit.

Forget your troubles Let go your woes Live for today 'cause You might be dead come tomorrow

Derek is the optimist. For both the small things like the camera possibly having having “titties” on it, and for big things like which customers might be great opportunities to steal. He sees Cale’s credit card as funding for a get rich quick scheme, he thinks whatever’s in the office might be worth enough that they’ll never have to steal again, which would literally turn their lives around. He doesn’t want to be parking cars and stealing “things people won’t miss” for the rest of his life. Nor does he want to be like his brothers (who we can assume from context are or were involved in gang activity, and may have turned state’s evidence and gotten themselves in a lot of hot water with the rest of their crews as a result, neither being a good position to be in). But underneath it all, the hope is a little hollow and is just repeating the same idea over and over that “today’s going to be the day, the change is coming, I’m ready for what’s next” and he kind of knows it, but he’s going to keep at it, and have fun until he gets that big break or dies trying. 

Really I could break this down line by line on where/how the song matches Derek, and especially how Derek and John are very similar, but I’ll spare everyone else the ramble and myself the tears, for now.

---

Ryne: Manipulated by Beth Crowley

When this song came out, I listened to it and didn't even make it through one time before I realized how perfectly it encapsulates Ryne's history with her ex and her slow growth into the girl Derek meets and even more with his help.

In particular, this set of lyrics

I was always quick to Defend you Inventing an excuse for every flaw 'Cause I thought that was love

really hit me for how perfectly they described her in that relationship, to the point of even telling Derek, years later, that it was something she had done, or not done, that was why the relationship soured, that it was her fault.

[heratheanon]

images[DOT]app[DOT]goo[DOT]gl/xgZPX93dVPRdMeBs7 Could you maybe write a drabble of Luba falling for the reader who was dragged by her friends to the bar or the parlor, they flirt a lot and then things get smutty?

Sheehanoween!

Your wish is my command! More about the event here. Send your gifs!

Ethereal Creatures

Luba x Fem!Reader Warnings: language. Kinky steam

Why is it a requirement for bachelorette parties to end up in places like this?

You hated clubs. You hated the noise, the crowds, the expense. You hated that the experience turned every one of your girlfriends into giggling, binge-drinking morons. Somewhere someone decided that this is what people were supposed to do for a bachelorette party, and you wished that you could punch whoever that was in the face. 

You sat huddled in the corner of your booth, your vodka tonic clutched in one hand as you watched your friends whoop it up. “We’re gonna go dance, c’mon!” one of them shouted to you as the four of them made their way down to the dance floor. “No thanks,” you replied, feigning cheerfulness. “I’ll stay here and watch our stuff.” She shrugged and stumbled off.

You watched the sweaty, writhing bodies dancing under the flashing lights and loud pumping base for a while, sipping your drink, when a lightly accented voice pulled you away from the scene before you. “Are you all set on dri-- oh, it’s just you.”  You turned your head and saw an otherworldly creature leaning up against the side of the nook in which you sat. They were mostly shirtless, dressed only in skin-tight leather pants and a small vest, and their lean, sculpted torso somehow appeared to shimmer, as if it was dusted with a luminous powder. Their platinum blond hair was pulled back into a plaited bun with a dramatic sweep of spiky bangs, and their elf-like features were accented by long silver false eyelashes. Your mouth quickly dropped open in surprise before you snapped it close again, quickly averting your gaze.

“Don’t worry,” they cooed, clearly noticing your surprise. “I don’t bite.”

You chuckled awkwardly and buried your face in your drink, draining the last few drops.

“Why are you all alone? Have your friends left you?”

“No,” you said, “I’m just watching their stuff. I’m not really into dancing and the whole club scene. No offence.”

“None taken,” they said. “I actually find the whole thing quite boring myself, but it pays the bills, so to speak.”

You smiled. “I’ll bet you get a lot of tips,” you said before cringing at yourself. Why did you say that out loud?

The elf smiled and tilted their head contemplatively. “Now why would you say that?” Their voice was playful; teasing.

“Well,” you said with a shrug. “Beautiful people always get the best tips.”

They huffed out a soft chuckle at that. “Well look at you getting right to the point. Isn’t that refreshing. Call me Luba. I’m about to go on my break. Care to join me?”

“What about my friends' things?” you asked.

“Fuck their things,” Luba replied. “You have better shit to do.”

You laughed. “Ok, sure. Let’s go.”

Luba took your hand as you stood, and they led you through the club and out the back door. They leaned casually against the side of the building and sparked up a cigarette. “Would you like one doll?” They tilted the pack in your direction.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke,” you said.

“Lucky you,” they replied, and fixed you with a particularly intense stare. You weren’t sure what to do next, and you awkwardly felt the need to fill the silence.

“So...have you worked here long?” you asked.

“Oh honey,” Luba said, sighing. “Don’t disappoint me by being boring. You seemed so different than the other bimbos and himbos that come here.”

You felt a stab of anger before Luba broke into a grin and laughed, easing your bruised ego.

“I’m just playing with you honey. Now come here.” They held out their arm. You took their hand and stepped closer.  Luba closed the remaining distance between you and stood over you, one of their legs pressed against your thigh. “You might hate the scene,” they purred. “But you do enjoy a little excitement, don’t you.” They spoke it as if it was a statement and not a question. “I can tell you’re a naughty girl.”

Your heart started to beat faster. “I do get into trouble from time to time,” you said, matching their tone.

“I wonder just what sort of trouble you could get into in an alley behind a nightclub,” they said, and pressed in closer to you. You didn’t respond, only breathed. You looked up at them with dark eyes, answering them with your look.  They bent their head until their lips barely brushed yours. “Are you wondering now,” they said, “what you are willing to get up to out here?”

You wrapped your arms around their shoulders and pressed your lips to theirs, relishing in the soft smoothness of them, and you teased their lips with your tongue. Suddenly Luba opened their mouth and slipped their tongue into yours, kissing you back with intensity. They cupped the back of your head roughly as they moaned softly into your mouth, your tongues warring with each other. They turned and  pushed you back against the side of the building and ground their pelvis into yours. You gasped as you felt their bulge press into your crotch, and you would have allowed them to take you right then and there, should they be so inclined.

Instead, they broke the kiss and stepped away from you, watching as your chest heaved, your eyes wild with desire. “Look at you,” they purred. “Look at you, you wild, naughty thing.”

“Stop teasing me,” you warned, your voice thick with lust. 

“Oh trust me,” Luba replied. “I’m not. But I am wondering what you will be doing after I get off work. I’d like to continue this little adventure of ours.”

“I’m at a bachelorette party with my friends,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s torture.”

“Ditch them,” Luba said simply. “It will be easy.”

“How?” you asked, puzzled.

“Oh their shit will definitely be stolen by the time you get back,” they said as your mouth fell open in dismay. “They will be furious with you.”

“No that’s awful!” you cried.

“Don’t worry,” Luba cooed. “I know where all the shit that is stolen here gets fenced. I can get it back, and then they will forgive you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re evil,” you said.

“Maybe,” Luba said, tossing their spent cigarette away and striding toward the back door to the club. “But something tells me you will enjoy that.”

You smiled wryly, following them to the door. Yes, you thought. Yes I do believe I will.

[heratheanon]

I've no idea if that works or not, but if it doesn't, it's one of the gifs in Mute where Luba meets Leo in the "red room" from Vousnavezrienvu. Could I please have an imagine where a fem! reader is sent by her friends to the parlor to Luba bc she needs to "loosen up" and she just wants to take it slow, but still wants sex. Hope you're having a good one.

Hopefully this gif does the trick as yours didn’t come through. Gif courtesy of @vousnavezrienvu

Sheehanoween!

Five Times

Luba x Fem!Reader Warnings: this is probably the smuttiest smut I have ever smutted. Just a lot of sex with a sex worker here. 

Your friends never let you live it down that you hadn’t had sex in almost a year. You were in postgraduate school studying for your Master’s degree in engineering, so you didn’t have time to date. They also never stopped teasing you over the fact that your last boyfriend was a boring bloke who only had sex in the missionary position with the lights off.

I really need to stop telling my friends about my sex life-- or lack thereof, you thought to yourself as your taxi zoomed through the dark and glittering streets. It was your birthday, and your friends had promised you quite a surprise.

You pulled up in front of a very nondescript building with no signage. You all climbed out of the taxi, and your friend Gerta hooked her arm through yours, leading you toward the building. “First stop, we’ve booked you a special massage.”

“A massage?” you said, eyeing the building dubiously. “This doesn’t look legit.”

“Oh, it’s something,” Greta replied with a chuckle. “Go on, your appointment is in just a few minutes. We’ll see you after!”

Your friends waved and called well wishes to you as you slowly entered the building. You walked into a dull reception area where a woman stood behind the counter. She looked up from her book with an inquisitive eyebrow cocked.

“Hello,” you said hesitantly. “I have an appointment?”

The woman nodded. “Down the hall, third door on the left.”

“Uh, okay,” you said, and headed down the hall. You entered the room and saw that it was clearly a boudoir, appointed with red furnishings and rather seductive decor. “Goddamn you Gerta,” you mumbled under your breath as you closed the door behind you.

“Who is Gerta?” said a smooth voice from the other side of the room. You jumped in surprise at the sound.

The owner of the voice materialized from the shadows, catlike in their movements, lean muscles poured into skin-tight leather pants. Your breath caught at the sight.

“Did I startle you? Forgive me,” the creature purred as they approached you.

“No, it’s...it’s alright,” you stammered.

“You seem frightened,” they said. “Relax. You can call me Luba.”

“Okay, Luba…” you said. “The thing is, that my friends did this and I’m not sure that this is what I want, and--”

Luba stopped you. “You didn’t know what you were walking into? Oh you have interesting friends. Nevertheless, you should give me a try. You might enjoy yourself. In fact,” Luba stepped up to you so they were looking down on you, close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from their bare chest, “if you stay, I will make you come five times.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Wha-- five times? I don’t...um…”

Luba stopped your stammering with their mouth, which they pressed to yours firmly, soft lips opening. They cupped the back of your head and leaned into the kiss, and your jaw opened widely to accommodate the deepness of it, and you couldn’t help but sigh into it. It really had been so long since you’d been with anyone.

Luba broke the kiss and looked down with heavy-lidded eyes. “Is that a yes then?”

You nodded, swallowing anxiously.

“Take off your clothes and lay back on the bed,” Luba commanded.

You hastily shed your clothes, feeling shy, and you attempted to cover your nakedness as you laid down on the bed, curling around yourself.

Luba sat next to you. “I won’t rush you,” they said softly. “But by the end you won’t be feeling shy anymore.”

You smiled in response, and then Luba kissed you again. Your tongues danced together as you began to relax, and you closed your eyes. You were beginning to melt into it when you felt Luba’s fingers on your sex, softly at first; teasing. The kiss became more passionate as their fingers found your clit, which they rubbed and circled and you moaned at the sensation. Luba stopped rubbing your clit to gently slide two fingers into you, and they slowly pumped them, gathering the slickness from your arousal, and then they began to pump faster. You broke the kiss to gasp, “fuck!” before Luba’s mouth crashed back onto yours, cutting off your moans as they began to finger fuck you roughly, and you could feel the pleasure building like a cresting wave. It built, and built, and built until it finally crashed down and over you, and you rode out your first orgasm on Luba’s fingers, your strangled squeals muffled by their lips.

Lube broke the kiss and smiled down to you. “That’s one. Are you loosening up now darling?”

“Yes,” you panted, and you noticed you no longer had the desire to curl around yourself to hide your nakedness.

“Good,” Luba said, and got up from the bed. They walked over to a dresser and rummaged in a drawer, pulling out a metal vibrator. They returned to the bed, and gently pulled you by the legs so you were laying at the edge of the mattress. Luba spread your legs, and knelt before you on the floor. They leaned forward and licked up the length of your slit, pausing to flick your clit with their tongue. They repeated this pattern for a little while before Luba closed their mouth over the bundle of nerves, alternately sucking and flicking with their tongue. You threw your head back and gasped, and Luba reached one long arm up to massage your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple with their fingers, and you felt your next climax approaching, stronger this time. You bucked your hips and dug your fingers into their silver blonde hair as you came, and your legs collapsed, shaking.

“That’s two,” Luba said as they licked your moisture off their lips. You were flat on your back and panting with your eyes closed when you heard a small click and the telltale whirring of the vibrator. You looked up to see Luba’s eyes fixed on yours as they slid the cold metal into you. Having already climaxed twice you were very sensitive, and the sensation made you cry out loudly. “Oh fuck! God!”

Luba again bent to suck on your clit as the vibrator sank into your depths, and you arched your back and cried out again and again as Luba worshiped your cunt. They held the vibrator steadfast so that it assaulted your inner g-spot, and it was in this manner that you came undone a third time, and each time was more powerful than the last.

“I believe that was three,” Luba smiled, and climbed onto the bed to kiss you. “Are you doing alright love?” They said gently.

“Oh yes,” you said, your voice hoarse. “Oh yeah, I’m doing just fine.”

Luba chuckled as they stood and peeled off their leather pants, stepping out of them, revealing the rest of their lean, toned form and impressive cock, which was standing at attention. They got a condom off the nightstand and tore the wrapper with their teeth, rolling on the rubber in a quick fluid motion. “I’m going to fuck you now,” they said, and you nodded wordlessly.

Luba climbed onto you and hoisted your legs over their shoulders, leaning forward and folding you against yourself tightly. They reached down to test your wetness with their fingers and, being satisfied, they grasped their cock and pushed into you fully, stretching you in a way you have never been stretched.  They hit depths that have never been reached, and they circled their hips in acclimation before beginning to thrust. The sensation was mind-blowing and you moaned as Luba began to fuck you roughly, their hips slamming into yours at a punishing pace. Your moans became full blown cries as you reached around to claw at Luba’s back, and they hissed and gasped at the combination of pleasure and pain. A ball of white-hot ecstasy was building in your core, and it wasn’t long before the most powerful orgasm you had ever had hit you, leaving you a sputtering mess shaking on the bed.

Luba slowed their pace, letting your legs slide off their shoulders and they fucked you slowly as they nuzzled your neck, nibbling and kissing gently. After a short while, they stopped.

“That’s four. Now roll over,” Luba said, pulling out of you, and you complied; rolling over onto your stomach before raising yourself up on all fours. You turned your head to watch Luba slide into you again, and the sight alone was so arousing that you moaned, and then you screamed as Luba began fucking you, the pair of you rutting like beasts. Their pelvis slapped your ass audibly, and you grunted and cried out repeatedly as Luba pumped into you.  You had never been stretched like that, never felt such pleasure, never felt so completely free.

As your next orgasm overtook you, tears spilled down your cheeks as you screamed. You thought you had just had your best orgasm, but this one took its place. Luba’s thrusts grew erratic as they arrived at their own climax, and the two of you collapsed on the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs, breathing heavily. 

Luba pulled off the condom and tossed it in the bin beside the bed, and then they rolled over to spoon you. “How was that, darling? Are you feeling better?”

“Luba, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” you sighed, and you meant it. “What do we do now? Should I go?”

“You have me for an hour, and I’ve just given you five orgasms in half that time,” they said, and chuckled softly. Luba turned your head with their fingers so they could plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We have a little while if you want to fool around some more, or we can just lay here and talk.”

“Let’s see what I have the strength for,” you replied, and the two of you laughed together as you snuggled closer.

******

Your friends were standing outside and sharing a smoke as you exited the building, walking a little unsteadily on your heels. 

“Well,” Gerta said when she spotted you. “How was it? Oh my god girl, you can’t walk straight.”

“Best. Birthday. Ever,” you said dreamily as your friends clapped and whooped. “And,” you continued, “I got a bonus.”

“Yeah? What?” Gerta asked.

You held up a little white card. “I got their number!”

Your friends gaped at you. “Look at you,” Gerta breathed. “Could our shy little gal actually be dating a professional?”

“Let’s just say I’m not very shy anymore,” you said, and you headed off into the night with your friends.

[heratheanon]

Please something smutty regarding Nathan young showing off his dominant side? I feel like he’s always the baby haha! Yet to find a saucy ‘daddy’ one for him😆😆😆

Your wish is my command! More about the event here. Send your gifs!

Sheehanoween!

Nathan Young x Fem!Reader

Warnings: filthy language, filthy smut, angst, they have quite the row, Nathan gets a slap. 

Author’s Note: this one is messy. In this fic, I imagine Nathan is around 28. A bit more mature in some ways but not really in others. Relationships are complicated, and I imagine being in one with Nathan would pose its own unique challenges. This one gets pretty intense and angsty, and of course, angry smut. I don’t do daddy kink, but hopefully this one pleases you.

Rend Me in Two

You loved Nathan, you truly did, but he could be difficult. It pained you to see him constantly throwing up walls, deflecting situations with inappropriate humour, and sabotaging relationships with his friends and family.

People had a history of not sticking around for Nathan, so he tried to keep everyone at arm's length. Unfortunately, this also meant that he could be sweet and affectionate with you one moment, and cold and distant the next. You joked with your friends that you had the patience of a saint, because you knew that eventually he would come around and apologize. However, there were certain situations that were harder to come back from, like the time that he bailed on you for turning down sex because you were sick, and other such crimes. One would think that these moments would make a relationship insufferable, and it could be. But then Nathan would come out of whatever funk he was in and be the kind and attentive man you loved again.

Tonight was the final straw. You were having dinner at a local pub; not exactly a posh do, just a place in town that served good burgers and fried food. Your server was just dropping off the check when Nathan grabbed her wrist and said, “Hey what are you doin’ later darlin’? After I ditch this one, wanna get together and see where the night takes us?” Then he laughed.

You knew he was joking, of course, but it was just so fucking inappropriate. Your attempts at looking nonplussed failed and the server fixed you with a look of such pity that suddenly you realized, this is it. This is the moment where I’ve had enough. It broke your heart. You loved him, and he had the potential to be truly great if he would just shut the fuck up and get out of his own way. But you had tried long enough.

You fumed silently on the way home until Nathan asked you why you were being so quiet.

Quite calmly, your voice monotone, you replied; “I’m done, Nathan.”

“Wha’?” he had the audacity to look genuinely confused, which only made your disgust grow.

“Oh come on Nathan, you can’t really be surprised,” you said simply.

“Wha’ the bit with the waitress? C’mon, you know I was only fuckin’ around,” he said, as if you were the unreasonable one.

You chuckled bitterly and turned your head to look out the window.

“Babe, don’t be ridiculous,” he said, and the fucker was starting to sound annoyed.

“The only thing that’s ridiculous here, is that fact that I’ve put up with your shit as long as I have. I’m done,” you said, and the final syllables were emphasized for extra potency.

Nathan scoffed, and the sound made your blood boil.  “Wha’, you on your period?” he said.

“Pull the fucking car over,” you said.

“Wha’? No!”

“Nathan, if you don’t pull over I’m getting out anyway. Pull. The fuck. Over.”

He complied, and you threw yourself out of the car, slamming the door behind you. You half-blindly stumbled down the gravel road in inadequate ballet flats, your eyes not acclimated to the dark.

You heard the other car door open, and you turned to see Nathan getting out of the car, dimly illuminated by the interior dome light.

“Babe, come back! Stop being ridiculous!”

“Fuck YOU,” you yelled, your voice breaking on the second word, as you had practically shrieked it. Don’t cry don’t cry dontyoufuckingcry...

You heard Nathan close the car door and weren’t sure whether he was coming after you or not. You were never sure with that man. But then you heard his shoes on the gravel and you sped up your pace to increase your distance from him.

“Babe,” Nathan called again. “You can’t walk all the way back home in the dark.”

I sure as fuck can, if it means staying away from you, you thought angrily, but you stayed silent.

“Oh stop alright? We’ll swing by the chemists on the way home and get ya some Midol,” he said with a chuckle.

You whirled on him, eyes blazing. He was standing there wearing that dumb fucking I’m Nathan Young aren’t I so funny grin, and you wanted to rake your nails down his face. You wanted to kick him in the balls and shove him to the ground. You wanted him to hurt because for some reason your words just did not touch him, so you wanted to hit him; to cause him the physical pain to match the hole in your heart.

When he saw the expression on your face, his grin faltered. “Say one more thing Nathan Young,” you said, voice thick with fury and grief. “Say one more thing to make this my fault instead of yours, and so help me god…”

“How is it my fault?” he yelled with incredulity, and you stepped forward and slapped his face as hard as you could. He covered the side of his face with his hand and he gaped at you, his wide eyes watering. You fought aside the feelings of shame and regret that threatened to take over. You could not be weak now. You couldn’t back down now.

You had hit him so hard that your palm was stinging, so it had to have hurt him even worse. He was still in shock; stunned that you would do that to him. “Nathan,” you said, more quietly, letting the pain you felt lace your voice. “I don’t know how else to express how badly you make me feel. The cruel jokes, the abandonment, the cold shoulder. Don’t tell me you don’t know you’re doing it. You know exactly what you’re doing.” A tear slid down your cheek. Your fury was giving way to a bone deep sadness that had been building for a long time.

Nathan had finally lowered his hand, but in the darkness you couldn’t see whether you had left a mark on his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said.

This was not what you expected to hear. “I’m sorry?” you repeated bitterly, obviously doubting his sincerity.

“Yeah,” he spat, matching your tone. “Yeah I’m fucking sorry. I didn’t realize I was making ya feel so bad, and I’m sorry for that. But what is it you want from me, exactly?”

You blinked in surprise. “Wow,” you said.

Nathan’s own anger was building. “You think I can just change who I am because the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen actually gives me the time of day and likes to sit on my cock? I’m a fuck up babe. A royal fuckup,” he jabbed a finger angrily in your direction. “And YOU knew what yeh were signin’ up for!”

Your eyes swam with tears and your fury was building anew. “I just want you to treat me like you really give a fuck!” you cried. “I want you to treat me like you don’t want anyone else! That you actually care how I’m feeling, that you love me…” your words devolved into sobs and your shoulders slumped in exhaustion. 

This brought Nathan up short. “You think I want anyone else? You actually think I would want anyone but you?” He seemed surprised that he had to explain it to you. “You think I don’t love ya?” For the first time since this blowout had started, he looked sad.

“It’s not like you’ve ever said it,” you said, dejectedly.

He closed the gap between you, gently laying his hand where your neck met your clavicle, his long fingers splayed wide. “I’m not good with the feelings and shit; never have been,” he said, and lifted his eyes to yours. “I will try to do better; be better. How do I show you how I feel?” he asked, and his hand squeezed your neck ever so slightly. He bent his head so you could feel his breath on your lips. “Do you want me to tell you I love you? Because I do, I do love you,” he said barely above a whisper, and while you were still angry with him, the anger now warred with something entirely new. Your breathing became more rapid, and your chest heaved; Nathan’s hand on your throat a solid reminder; oh yes, I am here.

Nathan licked his lips. “Do I need to show you, darlin’?” he said, and with his left hand he curled his fingers into your hair, his right still holding fast to your neck, his fingers beginning to dig in and mark you. He pulled your hair to gently to tilt your head back, and crashed his lips onto yours; your strangled cry swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you, slipping his tongue between your lips which you opened to him reflexively. The kiss was hard, deep, messy and wet, and then he stopped, pulling away from you. With his hand still on your neck and in your hair, he pushed you back against a tree, pressing the length of his body against you so hard that the air left your lungs, leaving you gasping. 

“I am a fuck up darlin,’ he cooed down to your panting form. “But my greatest fuck up will be letting you leave me. No darlin.’ You see, I do love ya; you’re the only fucking thing in this fucked up universe I care about, and I’m sorry if I haven’t shown ya that. But that ends now.”

With that he lifted you up enough to sling one of your legs around his hips. He removed his hand from your throat to reach down between your legs and under your skirt, and his fingers found your sex. He rubbed your clit with his thumb through your knickers, and with his other fingers he teased aside the fabric enough to push two into your depths. He still had you pinned against the tree which made moving quite difficult, but you squirmed and whimpered as your slit grew slick against his pumping fingers, your lust becoming your driving desire, and then his mouth was back on yours, wide open and wet. He practically shoved his tongue into your throat and your teeth clattered together as you devoured each other. 

He reached down to unbutton his jeans and shoved them down roughly, exposing his cock. He tried to move your knickers aside with his fingers but they tore in his haste, and you cried out when he slid into your aching cunt fully and to the hilt. He pulled out almost fully, then shoved himself back in, slowly at first, then he picked up speed. He removed his left hand from your hair in order to hoist your other leg around his hips, untethering you from the ground completely, and his thrusts hit you deeper. You were a mess of whimpers and cries, and your upper back scraped the bark of the tree roughly as Nathan slammed into you, but you didn’t care. Your shirt may be ruined and your back a mess of scratches when this was over but you wouldn’t change one goddamned thing.

Nathan was breathing roughly and grunting softly, throwing himself into this fuck like nothing you had ever experienced before. Your eyes met, both blazing with intensity and depth of feeling, and you thought you might weep. He’s so beautiful you thought, my broken angel, my beautiful, broken angel… and it was with that thought, eyes locked together, that you came undone pinned between your lover and a tree. It was a powerful orgasm, and tears streamed down your cheeks as your legs shook and you cried out; the sound of your screams swallowed by the darkness and the forest around you. 

Your climax triggered Nathan’s, and he moaned into your neck as his hips shuddered and bucked, and he sighed as he stilled post completion. He gently lowered your legs to the ground and cupped your face with his hands, peppering your face with the sweetest kisses. He brushed your streaming cheeks with his thumbs. “Please, stop cryin’ love,” he said softly, and there was so much emotion behind his words that your heart soared. He tenderly gathered you up into his arms, and he carried you back to the car with you curled up against his chest.  He brought you round to the passenger side and set you down. You stood by the car for a moment, fixing your skirt, laughing a little when you realized your appearance must be a mess. Nathan smiled at you before brushing your lips with a gentle kiss. 

“I really am sorry, you know,” he said solemnly, leaning over you. “I know this can’t...fix everything right away, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m such a useless twat.” He stopped speaking, looking unbelievably frustrated with himself.

You reached your hand up to caress his cheek. “At least now I know how you feel,” you said quietly as he sighed and melted into your palm. “Keep the mask off with me Nathan. I know it will be hard, but you can trust me.”

He nodded wordlessly, fighting off emotion. “I will,” he whispered. “I’ll try.” 

“That’s the best I can hope for,” you said, before kissing him, your bruised lips pressing to his and lingering before you pulled away and opened the car door.

“Take me home and put me in the bath,” you said. “I must look like a hot mess.”

“You’re stunning,” Nathan said before kissing the back of your hand and walking around to his side of the car. “I’m the luckiest idiot in the world.”

“Don’t you forget it,” you said, smiling. Lounging back in your seat, already picturing yourself sinking into the warm sudsy water of your bath, and pulling Nathan in there with you whether he cared to join you or not. The night was still young, after all.

[heratheanon]

Hey! Your writing is unreal! Since we’re getting closer to Halloween would u ever consider writing a Nathan - misfits imagine something Halloween themed a bit of smut because why the hell not!😭 maybe something with a bit more of a dominant side of Nathan?

Sheehanoween!

Your wish is my command! More about the event here. Send your gifs!

Fireball

Nathan Young x Fem!Reader Warnings: smutty smutty smut. Enjoy!

You tipped back another shot, feeling the warm cinnamon liquor tingle on your tongue. The dance music thumped and the lights strobed as the costumed revelers writhed on the dance floor. It was Halloween in east London, and the place knew how to party.

You were feeling rather mischievous yourself after a few of the Fireball whiskey shots, and you were beginning to look at Nathan in a different light. The guy was attractive enough normally, but tonight under the moody lighting (which would occasionally catch his eyes and make them gleam with an otherworldly shade of green) and the general electricity in the air, you were feeling particularly drawn to him. You scanned the club, hoping to catch sight of him, and you found him. He was looking at you.

When your eyes met, he stared for a moment, then got up and made his way through the masses toward you. The whole time, you never took your eyes off each other. You licked your lips as he came to stand beside you, which made him smirk.

“Got one o’ those shots for me?” he asked. You gestured to the bartender, who filled two shot glasses for you. You handed one to Nathan and picked up the other. “Cheers,” you said.

“ Sláinte,” he nodded, and you drank your shots together. 

“Do you like Halloween?” You asked him.

“I like it well enough,” he replied. “If it gets the ladies feeling loose in their smutty outfits, who am I to complain?” 

You laughed and punched him lightly on the arm. “You’re a prat, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he said, smiling.

“Look,” you said. “I was thinking a change of venue might be fun. Something spooky, perhaps? Someplace...secluded. You game to join me?”

“I think I could be enticed away for some secluded spooky seduction, if that’s what you had in mind.”

You answered only with a sly smile, and upon noticing the bartender’s back was turned, you grabbed the still mostly-full bottle of Fireball from behind the bar.  The two of you hurried away.  “Oooh you little criminal,” Nathan teased. “My mum said I shouldn’t hang around girls like you,” which made you laugh in earnest.

Once outside, you led Nathan down a couple of roads and into the dark Lesnes Abbey Woods. During the day the forest was lovely, but now on Halloween night, the trees cast spooky shadows that confused the eye and disoriented the senses. After a while Nathan stopped you. “Give us a swig o’ that,” he said and gestured to the bottle, which you passed over to him. He took a deep drink, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. Then, with no word nor warning he stepped closer to you and firmly pushed you back until you were pressed against a tree. He bent his head to kiss you, and you kissed him back, opening your mouth; tongues dancing. The kiss and the liquor had you feeling quite excited, and you sighed and moaned lightly as Nathan continued to kiss you.

He stopped suddenly, and pulled away. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”

You smiled. “I thought we could go someplace befitting the occasion,” and you took his hand, continuing down the forest path.

For about ten more minutes you walked in silence through the woods, absorbing the sights and sounds of the night. When you arrived at the end at the side of a road, your destination was just ahead.

“The cemetery?” Nathan laughed. “Well it is Halloween.”

“Do you find them scary, cemeteries?” you asked.

Nathan shrugged. “Being immortal and communing with the recently deceased does take some of the mystique out of it, but they’re cool, yeah. Wha’ about you?”

“I’m not so much scared as...excited.”

“Excited eh? Well I guess we’d better get you over there.” Nathan led the way across the road and into the cemetery. The headstones stood starkly in shadows and silhouette, and a crumbling old chapel helped set the mood, looming silently as if it was standing sentry for all these centuries.

You explored a bit and came upon a grave with an above-ground tomb just large enough for a coffin to fit inside. The stone was weathered by age and you couldn’t make out the inscription on top in the darkness. “This seems like a good place to stop,” you said, and drank more of the whiskey, passing it to Nathan when you were finished. You sat down in the grass, propped up by the small tomb at your back. Nathan sat beside you.

The moonlight was just bright enough for Nathan’s features to be visible at close range, and close he was. He leaned over to kiss your neck, reaching up a hand to grasp your breast. He kissed and nibbled your neck as he squeezed and stroked you, his ministrations growing more forceful with his arousal. His left hand held the back of your neck as his right hand left your breast to further explore your body, moving southward. You groaned and spread your legs as he slipped a hand under your skirt and into your knickers, and his fingers brushed your clit as you squealed. “Shhh,” Nathan said, and with the hand that wasn’t on your clit he gently pushed you against the tomb on which you were leaning, holding you firmly in place. “Shh,” he repeated. “Be quiet now. We wouldn’t want to wake the dead.”

With that, he slipped two fingers into your sex, and then his mouth was back on yours, harder this time, snogging you deeply. You opened your mouth to him so widely you felt your jaw crack, and he finger fucked you while aggressively kissing you harder than you had ever been kissed. You tried to be quiet but it was impossible, and you writhed and whimpered as Nathan pleasured you; the dual sensation of the deep kisses and the fingers sliding in and out of you nearly sending you over the edge.

Suddenly he stopped and he stood up, pulling you up with him. He leaned you against the tomb. “Sit up here,” he commanded. You complied, hopping up and sitting on the edge of the smooth stone. Nathan stood before you and grabbed the bottle of Fireball.

“Is this, uh...entirely respectful?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Trust me,” Nathan said, “Nobody here gives a fuck.”  He pulled your knickers off and tossed them aside, and took a swig of the cinnamon liquor before kneeling in front of you. He swiped his tongue up the length of your slit and ended with your clit, circling a few times before closing his mouth over it and sucking, letting the remnants of the cinnamon booze wash over you. It set your mound on fire. It didn’t hurt, mind; it was warm and tingly and it intensified every sensation. You cried out, silence be damned, and your fingernails scratched at the surface of the tomb as you squirmed. Nathan alternated between licking and sucking, pausing periodically to take more swigs of the liquor. A ball of white hot pleasure was slowly growing in your core, and you panted and moaned and squirmed while he relentlessly pleasured you. The ball grew until it exploded outward in the form of an intense orgasm, causing your hips to buck and your legs to tremble. You cried out loudly, the sound echoing through the tombstones and trees of the cemetery.

Nathan stood and smiled as you attempted to put yourself back together with some form of dignity. “I believe these are yours,” he said, as he passed your knickers to you.

“Thanks,” you said with a breathy chuckle as you bent to step into them. You took the bottle of liquor and drained the last of it. “That was a clever trick. What made you think of that?”

“Well I thought if it worked with Fisherman’s Friend cough lozenges, this could have a similar effect. Looks like it worked; job done.”

You laughed. “I’ll say. Let’s get out of here. I think we’ve annoyed the dead enough.”

“I’m sure this is the most entertainment they’ve had in ages,” Nathan countered. “But yeah, let’s go back to yours, and see what other fun things we can come up with.”

You giggled as he made a playful grab for you and you trotted ahead, forcing him to chase you. It was a very lovely Halloween indeed.

[heratheanon]

Exchanges: Babysitting (The Song of Sway Lake Story)

A/N: A young Irina helps her aunt and uncle come to a realization about the future.

Word Count: 734

Rating: G - no warnings? Implied smut, I suppose. 

Keep reading

[heratheanon]

Am I the only one who doesn't like Eddie?

[heratheanon]

How about “Ghosts and demons and witches, oh my!” + Trick or Treat with Alfie/Reader?

A/N: So this ended up more of the whole Jones family with a background of Alfie x Reader, but it was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you like it anyway. Thanks for an excellent prompt to start my Halloween event off with 💙🎃

Word Count: 1924

Rating: T - minor language, reference to drinking

“Muuum,” Alfie whined, and you smothered a giggle into his shoulder that you were sitting tucked against. “That's so not fair!”

“I don't care Alfie,” Gemma snapped in reply. “Your sisters want to go, and I haven't got time to take them. So I'm asking you to help me out, since you're still living in my house.”

“But Mum! Y/N have a date. We're supposed to go to a party at the pub!”

The word 'date' still made your face flush, the heat a mixture of excitement that you and him were finally together and embarrassment, remembering how his mother had found out about the two of you. 

“Go after. You spend too much time there anyway.”

“I think it'll be fun,” you chimed in before he could dig himself any deeper into the hole he was building. “I'd love to take Jess and Charlotte trick-or-treating with you."

“Thank you, Y/N. You're such an angel,” Gemma said with a parental smile. “See Alfie?”

"We can wear a cute couple's costume and everything." 

Still grumbling, but at least smart enough to admit he'd lost, he reluctantly agreed, on the condition that the girls pay him for his time in chocolates. 

“The gross ones we don't like, maybe,” Charlotte replied, leading to a war of increasingly weird faces between brother and sister until they both collapsed into laughter.

You smiled to yourself as you watched the showdown, already looking forward to the holiday shenanigans. 

~

Of course, Alfie being Alfie, things couldn't be that simple. When you arrived at the Joneses, it was to find a pair of morose and uncostumed teenagers, their very frazzled mother and an...Inca. But no Alfie in sight. 

“Hi Gemma,” you said greeting her with a smile. “What can I do to help?”

“Oh, hello Y/N. I don't have time to chat. I have to call Tom and cancel, and then get ready so I can go with the girls, and I was so looking forward to a nice night with people my own age…” she sighed, brushing her blonde locks out of her face. “But when I told the girls no, they were heartbroken. And they only have a few years left to enjoy the holiday.”

“I told Gemma that as their stepmother, I could take them. But we cannot go trick-or-treating with the tacky costumes and the processed sugar. It is bad for the skin you know. And makes you fat.”

You nodded absently at Inca, barely registering in the Swedish woman's eccentricities or 'health' rants anymore. 

“Where's Alfie?” You asked, immediately regretting it from the frustrated growl that escaped his mother.

“As usual he can't manage the one thing I asked of him and abandoned me to go to the pub already. If we're lucky Billy's putting him to work decorating but he's probably just lazing about.”

“Oh.” You tried not to let your own dejection show.

Gemma was perceptive enough to hear it anyway.

“I'm sorry dear,” she tutted.

Fighting down a sharp wave of annoyance at your boyfriend, you smiled brightly at her.

“Don't worry about it. And don't cancel your date. I'll go get changed and I'll take the girls trick-or-treating. Just tell me how late they're allowed to be out.”

“Oh I couldn't ask you to do that Y/N,” she said, a strain in her voice making it clear she was refusing solely to be polite. 

At the same time, the girls brightened up from their pouts and started cheering, begging their mother with overlapping overjoyed voices to let them go with you. You waved aside her half-hearted refusal. 

“I said don't worry about it. I love Jess and Charlotte as if they were my own sisters. Besides, if Alfie wants to blow me off, I'll do the same right back. Who needs him?”

Inca nodded, saying something about being independent like a praying mantis, and not needing to ruin your makeup over him unless he was dead, and you forced your smile to not turn into a grimace as you thanked her for the sentiment. 

“Thank you dear,” Gemma finally relented. “You have no idea how much this means to the girls. I mean it. I owe you.”

~

The next morning, Jess and Charlotte practically tripped over each other in their pre-breakfast candy-fueled dash to the kitchen, eager to tell their mother all about the night. When they spotted Alfie, asleep on the couch instead of in his bed, Charlotte grinned, shooting her sister a smirk before throwing herself bodily onto her brother.

“Alfie!” She shrieked as she tackled him, causing him to jolt awake with a high scream of his own.

“Good morning to you too,” he wheezed, shoving her off so he could sit up and look blearily around. 

“We missed you Alfie!”

“You should have been there! It was so fun! And spooky!” Jess chimed with a grin, flopping down on his other side so he couldn't just go back to sleep.

“Oh yeah?” He asked teasingly, “What made it so spooky?”

“Everyone's costumes duh!”

Charlotte nodded in agreement. “Some of them were really good. Like the ghost that you could almost really see through.”

“I bet it was lights of some kind. I want to do that next year.” Jess said confidently.

“And then a bunch of demons all together with the creepy all black eyes! Or the witch with all the runes and stuff on her dress.”

“Ghosts and demons and witches?” He paused dramatically to let his sisters nod before finishing in his best Dorothy impression. “Oh my!”

All three of them collapsed into giggles until he remembered their mother's late night and shushed the girls. 

“And,” Charlotte smirked in her best bragging way, “we got so much candy we had to drag our bags home.”

“Oh excellent, then you won't mind sharing with your best big brother!”

“No way! Only people that go trick-or-treating get candy!”

He stuck his tongue out at her. She stuck her tongue out at him. They held their positions for as long as they could, complete with an obnoxious hum. 

“I just wish Y/N wasn’t so sad...” Jess sighed eventually, casually, while she unwrapped another chocolate

“Yeah, they didn’t seem like they were having as much fun as they always do.” Charlotte added, nodding. 

“What?” Alfie felt his heart leap into his throat at the idea that his girlfriend, and best friend, was upset. “What happened? Why were they sad?”

Jess fixed him with a disappointed look that was scarily similar to their mother’s. Charlotte rolled her eyes dramatically.

“You’re why Alfie,” Charlotte said, dragging his name out so it was somehow also the ‘duh’ she didn’t say.

“You promised we’d all go together and then you went to the party early instead,” Jess added.

“They were really disappointed you weren’t here.”

“And then angry.” 

“And then sad.”

Each word his sisters spoke seemed to drive a knife further into his chest. He felt so stupid. He hadn't even thought about it, other than very briefly when they hadn't turned up. But they were always a little funny about that sort of thing, introverted and hard to predict. Of course it wasn't just that though. 

He had disappointed and hurt the person that he cared most about because, as usual, he was a hopeless idiot.

“Fuck,” he muttered, feeling panicked. “I have to go.”

He tossed aside the blanket on his lap and stood up, not caring that he smacked Jess in the face with it.

“You can't Alfie!” She called as he headed for the front door. 

“Why not?”

“You're in your pants!” 

They giggled as he glanced down and saw that they were right. And while Y/N might not mind the view, their folks and the neighbors and possibly the neighborhood cops wouldn't be so appreciative. 

“Bollocks!” He shouted, scowling and changing directions to his room to get dressed. 

~

There was a knock on your door, startling you and nearly making you spill the kettle, continuing and its speed picking up the longer it took you to answer. Thankfully, at least the volume remained consistent, loud enough to be heard but not so much as to disturb the whole house. Cradling your newly poured tea in one hand, you padded over and threw the deadbolt, cracking the door open to peek around it at who might be there so early in the morning. 

“Y/N! Thank god!” Alfie cried when you opened the door.

“Keep your voice down, my father’s still asleep,” you hissed. “What do you want?”

“I came to see you.”

“Well I’m not exactly sure I want to see you right now.”

“I know. And you have every right to be mad. I screwed up so badly last night it can’t be put into words.”

“Oh no, I can definitely think of some words to describe it.”

“Can’t be put into words,” he repeated pointedly and it was all you could do to fight back the smile that leapt naturally to your face at his dramatics. “I didn’t think. I was stupid. I stood you up and that makes me basically the worst boyfriend ever.”

You tilted your head to one side, acknowledging his point without words. 

“And then it took my sisters saying something for me to realize it.”

You raised an eyebrow, questioning why he’d mention that when you didn’t necessarily know it, and it was digging himself a deeper hole. 

“But it’s not because I don’t care. I swear,” he held his hands up as he rushed to assure you. “It’s just that...I’m not used to having anyone around. This whole serious relationship thing is new. For me. And sometimes I forget, because you’ve always been here, putting up with my crap. But it’s different now, yeah?”

You sighed. “Alfie…”

“No, don't say anything. You know if I get interrupted I’ll lose my thoughts.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s thought, singular, Scarecrow.”

He laughed, before his face fell with a groan. “Y/N, please. There you already go doing it. I’ve forgotten what I’m saying.”

“Something about things being different now that we’re dating. Which you’re right, they are, a little. But I’d have been mad about you blowing me off even if we weren’t.”

“Mad, yes, but not hurt. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know you didn’t. But--”

“Things are different because there’s a thing and feelings between us now. And if I’m going to date someone and be serious for once in my life, I’m glad it’s you. And I want to be the kind of cool, serious boyfriend you deserve. I was a dick. And I’ll do anything to fix it.”

“You don’t have to grovel, you know. I know  you, so I should have expected there was a chance of it happening. And I forgive you.”

“You do?”

You nodded, letting yourself smile now. It was impossible to stay mad at him on the worst of days, and here he was being so sweet and contrite, what else could you do?

“Great. That’s amazing. I won’t let it ever ever happen again.”

“I’m not going to hold you to that, because you won’t keep it, but it’s the thought that counts.”

He grinned back at you, leaning in on the doorway as if to kiss you. Then suddenly he pulled back. “I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“Trick or treat?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head wryly, laughing at him as he leaned in to steal the kiss for real.

--------

Taglist: @firstpersonnarrator (feel free to send me a message if you want to be added)

[heratheanon]

He Could Be That Boy ~ Alfie Jones x Reader (Me and Mrs. Jones) - 3

A/N: Alright, so this is the next and final chapter of this little Alfie mini-series I’ve been writing. I don’t know if I’m going to write more for him, but it was a lot of fun, and I hope you have a good time with this last chapter. Word Count: 2481 Rating: E - language, unprotected sex, oral sex (f! receiving), awkwardness, multiple orgasms Full fic now on AO3 if you prefer that format for reading.

Keep reading

[heratheanon]

He Could Be That Boy ~ Alfie Jones x Reader (Me and Mrs. Jones) - 2

A/N: Alright, folks. The freeloader in my brain is getting another chapter. Haven’t decided if there will be more from here… Word Count: 1405 Rating: T - partial nudity, implied sexual content, language

Keep reading

[heratheanon]

He Could Be That Boy ~ Alfie Jones x Reader (Me and Mrs. Jones) - 1

A/N: I decided to just go with it. And then it turned into at least a 2 part thing. Maybe 3? Is it a series now? I don’t know, we’ll see what happens at this point. Stupid boy-creature.

Word Count: 1075

Rating: T - heavy alcohol consumption, jealousy, language

Keep reading

[heratheanon]

Tupelo Honey

Word count- 2200

Warnings- language, a hint of spice, grifting and scams, mention of drug use and alcohol, some spoilers for the movie "Moonwalkers"

A/N- Leon and Honey find themselves really good at con artistry. A government agent from Honey's past catches up to them all just as a grift lands Leon in over his head.

Chapter 5- Bad Moon Rising

July, 1969

Honey could hardly believe half the shit that poured out of Jonny’s mouth. His face matched his hair each time she called him a silver tongue devil. The promises he made Glen and his awful The Who knock-off band. Gigs all over London that happened to fall through at the last minute. A recording session in a studio run by Sir George Martin. Except he was King of The Automats, and not The Beatles.

Yet he was often flush with cash that turned into posh suits and dolls and nose candy. There were late night phone calls promising someone on the other end the band was on “the verge!” Honey and Leon had shacked up for nearly two years, she had a stomach that protruded with child to show for it, and this rock group had never leapt into wherever this verge may be.

There wasn't room these days for the 3.5 of them in the sparse flat above the pub. Toula and Nick had tossed them from the place above their restaurant months ago. They warned Leon that his mate would land him in trouble, so it was best he found out on his own without being attached to them. So Leon and Honey worked honest jobs like the punters near King’s Cross.

Sometimes Honey spun tales about a violent husband who gave her that black eye and the one on the way and now she had nowhere to go. She just needed a bit of dosh to get out of London proper. It often worked, with Honey dipping a little extra as she hugged them and cried.

Other times, Leon would rage after her and make a scene on the street. Most times he talked his way outta being punched. Sometimes he took a hit and twenty quid. The best was Honey’s false labor and pained sobs.

This one posh couple only had diamond earrings and platinum watch they offered Leon in exchange for them taking his wife. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Hours later when Honey had slipped away (after an amazing dinner she was certain Sugar Baby appreciated too), she came home to her fiancé kissing a stack of cash. Honey stashed it away behind a Janis Joplin poster, and Leon fucked her proper doggy style. Both impervious to the baby inside of her.

This was their favorite con

----

Honey had gone on holiday with Leon’s parents in her eighth month of pregnancy. He had kissed her goodbye and made her, quite literally, pinky swear to call as soon as they got to Brighton. He wanted to join but had rehearsals for a new musical coming over over the next few weeks.

“You absolute cunt!” Honey cried into the phone after she had walked (waddled really) with Nick and Toula down to the beach. There, around a table by the sea were Honey’s own parents and sister Julia. It had been almost three years.

“Whot?” Leon panicked, but a hit off his fresh joint calmed him. He scratched at the hair he wasn't used to now “growing” from his face. Figured he would have a bit of a stag while she was gone.

“I said you absolute cunt! I love you.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. You love it?”

“Are you kidding me? Leon, it's my family. Of course I love it. Ok, I'll pop round the hotel shop and call again before we leave. Are you alright?”

“Peachy!”

“Are you stoned?”

“A bit. Having some stress while you're gone. I'll be copesetic when you get back, I promise.” His girlfriend, against her better judgment, took Leon at his word.

----

Honey came home a few days later. She was unpacking when Leon stumbled into the room all pinks and green vest. Her leopard coat tossed haphazardly on the dirty floor.

Was this place that big of a mess when she left? There's no way she had been living in a disaster during the last stages of her pregnancy. She was also curious about the strange child-like drawing of Jonny on the wall in the living.. space. How it was weirdly threatening in its innocence; though she assumed that was the idea.

"Hey there midnight cowboy," she giggled as Leon swayed a bit while emptying his pockets of cash and his zippo.

"Whot?" he turned towards Honey, eyes half shut.

To her shock, a beard covered his cheeks and chin as well as the fullest mustache she had ever seen on him. "What the fuck is on your face?!" she grimaced a bit.

"Whot?" he slurred for the second time since walking through the bedroom door. His arms snaked around Honey and invaded her space by bending her awkwardly backwards and showering kisses on her neck and chin.

"Leon! Stop! I can't bend this way right now. The beard and mustache," Honey pushed him off of her but twisted her fingers through the green vest he wore over a pink dress shirt she had never seen before. "You look like Tevye in Fiddler on The Roof. Are we Russian Jews now?"

"Is Kubrick a Russian Jew?" Leon wavered a bit on his feet while his fiancee absently stroked her hands over his chest. "You like? Jonny said I looked like a bit of a poofter, but I said 'Nah. Pink is masculine on the right setting. You think my body's the right setting, innit?" His eyes were half closed.

"Did you say Stanley Kubrick? The foot fetish pedophile? He's a Polish Jew. Why? You're not in Lolita on the West End are you?"

"Nahhhh. Kiss me, I missed you. And you poppet," Leon rubbed Honey's stomach a bit too enthusiastically as he planted a sloppy whiskey kiss on her mouth. He hunched down to nuzzle his cheek into it. "You like Papa's beard, right? If Mummy is good she might like it better on her inner thighs."

Honey grimaced while briefly lacing her fingers in his curls. She held him to her pregnant belly before turning away.

He slapped her on the ass as she did. "Pressie in our little hidey hole for you, Gracie. Nicked a few thousand pounds in case." He lit a joint without thought, took a hit and proffered it to Honey. She flicked it out the open window. "CIA punter," he lowered and exaggerated his voice sat down on the bed. "Go on look. After this I'm giving my loves a proper life. No grifts," Leon flailed his arms outstretched and back. "No uncertain acting gigs." repeated gesture. "I'm going to the bloody moon and back for my girls."

Honey turned her back to him and opened their hiding spot. Inside were stacks of cash she had never seen before. She grabbed handfuls of it and faced Leon who had somehow staggered out of his clothing, completely nude.

“Leon!” Honey giggled. She held the cash to her chest and changed the tone of her voice. “Leon,” she sang to herself mostly out of disbelief.

He flopped on the bed propped on his side, “Go on give under the bed a look. Then take off your dress and let's have sex.”

Honey rolled her eyes and took the money out of the spot and stuffed it in their overnight bags. “You're in no state to wank let alone shag. We're taking this tomorrow and leaving. It's too much we can't stay here. Not with Jonny.”

She labored to get down on her knees bedside, and reached for the silver briefcase hiding there. She set it on the bed and easily popped the latch and the air rushed out of her lungs. “Leon, who did you steal this from?”

“No. He gave it to us. A real nutter too. He was in Vietnam a few years, he told me. It says it all in those documents Jonny told me to fuck off reading, but I did. CIA fellow trying to con us into thinking he was an American film producer. Kid something.” Leon scratched his head and sneered in thought, his mouth hung open.

Honey held up a business card as she tried to scramble to her feet, “Tom Kidman?”

Leon sat up to seize his fiancee by the waist. He undid the string that barely held the bodice of Honey's dress together. A satisfied grin spread across his lips when he caught sight of her naked, swollen breasts. He didn't care if it was because of the baby. He happily buried his face in her cleavage.

“I don't wanna talk about it anymore, love.”

His voice was muffled by her skin. Leon lifted her dress up over her body; she let him take it completely off followed by her panties. His large hands covered her ass as he massaged it while his bearded face rubbed all over her collarbone and neck. He left kisses in its wake.

Honey wrapped her arms around Leon's shoulders and sighed. She let the new sensation wash over her, forgetting briefly what was even going on. “We can't stay in London, Leon.” A moan escaped her lips as he captured one of her nipples in his mouth.

“Tomorrow, Honey. Please let's have sex?” He looked up at her with large, green puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“Give us a tug then?” He gestured towards his swollen cock.

“No! Go to bed! You're like a horny teenager, and it's weird.”

“Is not! Look at you, fucking gorgeous like that.” Leon leaned back on the bed to gawk at Honey. Her cheeks flared red, and she covered her stomach protectively. “Right stunner my girl is, carrying our baby.”

Honey softened while Leon got properly in bed and patted the space beside him. She laid down to settle into his arms and thought about that sentiment. Our baby. Leon never called her his, always ours. Even that, he would say, wasn't necessarily true.

His fingertips traced an invisible line over Honey’s shoulder and arm draped across his chest. “I guess.. Selina doesn’t belong to us, does she? We just sort of mind her and help her along.”

“Leon, I really fucking love you.”

“Blimey, I would hope so after all this time!” he teased her. “I really fucking love you too. Let’s see if she still loves us after next week.”

“What does THAT mean?”

“Just a vision of chaos is all. You know, like how I get sometimes.”

Leon was right. Sometimes he did seem intuitive about what was coming, as if he had a way of pulling it from the future and making it his own in the present.

Honey thought about this as she drifted off to sleep. A thought that turned into a tiny annoyance in her chest when she saw the business card in the briefcase. An annoyance that only grew as she and Leon went to the last appointment with the obstetrician. An annoyance that fanned the flame of anger when they got home and Jonny rambled through her cooking about the Iron Monger coming ‘round for his debt. It was an anger that sang her to sleep for a mid-morning nap. And it was anger that turned to panic and fear when Leon and Johnny burst through the bedroom door in a whirlwind of arms and legs and red hair and packing.

“Are you two schmucks insane?! What the fuck is happening?! I can’t move this fast!” Honey thanked her stars she had stashed away the cash in Leon’s overnight bag. She thanked Artemis she had the intelligence to already pack a suitcase for when the baby came as she hastily pulled a dress over her head.

“I told you something was coming.” Leon stumbled around putting his boots on and several other layers of clothes remembering his vest from Honey first. “You said he was a stupid American TWAT!” he yelled at Johnny while he and Honey rushed through the bedroom door.

They comically came to a halt. Honey slammed into Leon’s back and swore softly under her breath. It was drowned out by Leon’s “Oh fuck!” as he pulled her close to his side protectively. Honey was in full view of the man in their miniscule kitchen. He was livid, visibly trembling with anger in the same way Leon did.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Kubrick.” The disgruntled lion of a man noticed Honey for the first time in her crocheted mini dress and bare feet. A grin like no other crept along his face, and she could tell he was struggling just to do it.

Honey crossed her arms to try and hide her heart, surely beating wildly right out of her chest. Her countenance was purely vexed. “We didn't have bacon on the menu for today. Lovely of you to abandon the G-Men for a gig that allows you to frame and murder innocent women legally though.”

Leon and Johnny stared at her, mouths hanging open in shock. Then back at the CIA agent. “Missed you too, Dollface. Sorry about Lenny, I really liked the bastard.”

“Well you know, heroin and cunt FBI agents with a black list and a hard on for some upper crust bitch with a vendetta against you know, immigrants and Jews.”

“Come on, that's no way to treat Uncle Tom! Give me a kiss and I'll forget about it.”

“You will?” Johnny stammered.

“No you dumb sonofabitch, she’s outta my jurisdiction. It’s you two fucking morons I'm gonna kill.”

Tag: @neuroticpuppy @forenschik @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @nightmonsters @frogs--are--bitches @magic-multicolored-miracle @maerenee930 @bisexualnathanyoung @ghouls-buddy @rob-private @firstpersonnarrator @vonkimmeren @messengeronthemoon @a-ghoulish-tale @inspiremeandsetmefree

[heratheanon]

After six long months, I present to you:

Tupelo Honey

Word Count- 3k

Warnings- language, angst, discussion of abortion

A/N- With help from familiar strangers, Honey makes a choice that will change Leon's life and hers forever.

Chapter 4: Angel of The Morning

Late fall of 1968, Morning:

Honey clutched at the pillow as her hips flew towards the ceiling. Her back arched before she bent forward and twisted her free hand in Leon's thick hair. His name echoed off the bedroom walls as she came without caring if they woke Johnny this early.

Honey’s chest heaved as her body attempted to regulate her breath. Leon threw the sheets back and looked up at her. His hand absently ran up and down her stomach to her breasts and back.

“What?” Honey’s voice was sleepy as she met a green-eyed gaze. She propped up on her elbows when his brows knit together. “What's wrong?”

“Not much, love. It's just, your..” Leon's cheeks turned kinda pink, “stuff tastes different. You been eating anything new?”

“No? You mean it tastes different when I cum?”

“Just this time. You gonna start your thing?” He pointed towards Honey’s sex. “Period.”

“I don't think so. Should be around any day now though.”

Leon crawled up towards the pillows and laid down beside his girlfriend. His arm draped across her collarbone as he snuggled up to her shoulder. He nipped at the skin before kissing it. Then pressed his forehead into her neck.

Honey caught a scent of herself on him. “It even kinda smells different. I better get to the clinic just in case. I've not felt that weird other than that stomach bug.” Her nails lightly scratched Leon's forearm as she spoke. “I can't have an STI, since you went all mad and demanded my undying monogamy.”

Leon ignored her. “Maybe,” he yawned and stretched his impossibly long arms and legs straight out, “you caught a case of the pregnancy.” He sat up and leaned down to kiss her stomach.

“Don't say that!” Leon's familiar whine filled Honey’s own voice. “I won't keep it. That's legal here now.”

Leon stared back at her, “Just like that.”

“It's my body, Leonidas. Look at how short I am. Imagine this knocked up,” Honey waved a hand down the length of her naked self.

“I do.” It came out a whisper. Honey glowered. “Don't pull that face on me, Gracie. I know it's your body. We just ain't exactly safe with our shaggin’ are we? Leavin’ it up to chance. Then you get angry if there's one on the way. Keep it. End it. Give it up for adoption. I know it's YOUR choice. You tell me all the bloody time about it being your body. I respect that because I love you. Before you give me cheek, I think about having a baby with you loads.”

“Leon that's not what we want.” Honey sat up on her haunches beside him. “Look at us. We share a one bedroom flat with a ginger con man that we don't even sleep in half the time based on whether he wants to fuck someone or not. Our loo is literally a closet, and we have to shower at your parents’. There's one dresser and half a wardrobe for both of us. Where the hell would we even PUT a baby let alone afford to have one.”

“We've saved money! My parents would help us get a proper house or flat. Or stay with them until we could.”

“Oh sure. Us, your parents, your Yia Yia, one uncle and a baby. Sounds cozy.”

“I grew up in a place with more living there than that. We could get a loan.”

“What will we put down for occupations, Leon?!” Honey was losing her cool. A wave of nausea hit her, but she choked it back. “Occasional actor, waiter, and FBI fugitive?! I can't out myself like that.”

“We lie. I'm an actor. I'm sure you know loads of people who could fake it. Look respectable. I'll cut my hair and clean up my face.” Leon was equally annoyed, hands fidgeting in his lap. His legs started to bounce up and down as he reached, but fumbled with the nightstand drawer.

“Don't you fucking dare cut that hair. Who will we even pretend to be? Patti Boyd and fucking George Harrison? I'm an awful blonde and your hair would take hours to straighten. Leon we would have to fake marriage certificates. That's fraud. Real and proper, honest prison time fraud.”

Leon ignored her and finally yanked the drawer practically in half. The handle came off in his hands causing him to mumble under his breath and drop it to the ground. In a fury he tossed the contents aside in a search for something Honey wasn't sure of.

“If you're about to get high, I'll fucking leave you right now.” Honey got up and snapped her fingers in Leon's face. “We're not done talking about this.”

He looked up at her, his green eyes ablaze for the first time in their relationship. “I'm not GETTING high! Will you quit talking to me like I'm a bloody fucking child? You and Johnny always like I'm mad or deficient. I have a university degree from Cambridge, and I speak three languages. I'm observant not stupid.”

“That's.. That's not what I meant,” Honey bit her lip. “You are one of the smartest guys I've ever met. I just.. Worry about the amount of opium you started sneaking into your pot. You're working less and letting Johnny call the shots.”

Leon was lost in his search, “You’re just jealous of someone else pushing me around?” He waved his hand dismissively before Honey could answer. “I’m fine, love. I'm just a bit stressed is all. It helps me relax.”

“Leon, it's heroin. You know what happened to my uncle.”

He ignored her, “I’ll be swell. Promise. Plus I think this idea Johnny has finally.. DAMMIT WHERE'S THAT TOSSER OF A RING?!”

Something fell off the bed onto the wooden floor with a PING! Leon got down on all fours, stark naked and put his eye to the wood. His arm outstretched and came back to him with an object between his long fingers. He held it aloft towards Honey and took her tiny hand inside of his large one. Honey stopped breathing.

“It's not exactly proper, but you aren't exactly a girl into convention, are ya?” Leon smiled up at his girlfriend. He kissed the back of Honey’s hand. “You think better of me than I think of myself. I want to make you happy, and I want to be a good husband and daddy. If this meeting tonight doesn't go well, I'll stop acting. No more pot or opium or acid or coke right bloody now. I'll get a proper job and we can get a proper house and when the time comes, you choose whatever you want. Stay home. Go to work, I'll stay home. So you aren't loaded down by the patriarchy or whatever.”

“Leon,” Honey’s face was pale and she started to swoon. She saw the way his hand swallowed hers, and panicked. Her fucked up brain saw herself lost in Leon the same way.

“Even if we go to the court, just us. Even if we have to leave London because you're worried. I'll go with you. To India like you sorted out before we met. I don't want you to give up on any dream because of this baby. Or me.”

Before she could get any answer out, Leon slid the ring on Honey’s finger. It was stunning, carved marble and amethyst. She knew it was old, Grecian.

“It's purple because Dionysus cried and spilled his wine onto a maiden he offended by his drunkenness. Artemis protected her, turned her to crystal and she absorbed his wine. It sobered him. Your love, when I'm not foolish, will sober me.”

“Leon,” Honey said again, unable to say anything else.

“Will you please marry me, Gracie?”

The question was so pure. His eyes were so green and hopeful. Honey couldn't think or speak around the lump in her throat. But then..

“I can't,” she whispered. “I have to go to the clinic. You've got an early shift at the restaurant.”

Honey was numb as she pulled on some clothes and her coat. She left the flat and Leon naked on his knees in the bedroom.

----

Later that afternoon:

Honey stared straight passed the nurse as she explained exactly what would happen if she decided to not keep the baby. How they suggest she not be alone and to have someone willing to care for her. To make sure there's no infection.

“Ultimately, dove, it's your decision. Unless you're cold-hearted, it might do your head in. It's not as easy as you modern girls think. You might not regret it, but you might. You prepared? Is your husband keen on this idea too?” The nurse nodded at the ring.

“Oh.. we aren't.. I didn't really give him a choice?”

“Well let's see if you're even pregnant first. Then I want you to go back to your partner and have a good talk. Promise me you'll do that?”

The young woman smiled. It was tentative and nervous. “Yeah. Ok. But it won't change my mind.” She held out her arm for the blood draw and took a cup and left for the loo.

Honey sat on the stairs of the clinic and bent down in a wave of nausea. It was amazing that now she knew she was knocked up the symptoms seemed to worsen. Like how noticing a paper cut makes it suddenly sting.

Her breasts were swollen and a fire built in her chest and stomach every time she laid down. What was the absolute worst, she came to realize, how mean she had been to Leon. A total uncool bitch. Honey looked down at the amethyst on her ring finger and began to cry.

“Hey man, you ok?” a voice asked. American.

“Jesus, don't call her man! What is wrong with you?” a female American voice.

“Leave me alone! Last time I was here, I was in Vietnam. I'm freaking the fuck out, Sel.”

“weren't you a cu-”

“Uh!! This is about them, not me.”

One of them sat down next to Honey. “My brother is right, are you ok? Honey, right?”

Honey looked up to meet eyes that almost took her breath away. A young woman around her age smiled and it reminded her of Leon. Her shoulder length hair had soft waves and curls, but her eyes. Her eyes somehow looked like Honey’s.

“Do I know you?” she squinted her eyes and tilted her head.

“Not yet,” the woman’s cheeks pinked a little. “We're.. Leon's..”

“Cousins!” a male voice interjected.

“I didn't know Leon had cousins from- Fuck me on the tube.”

“Tempting, but I don't think Leon would be down for that.” The inflection of his voice, despite being yank, was so much like his.. cousin’s. “My sister and I have been looking all over this stupid city for you the last few days. To meet you before we left. Leon told my sister you were here. He seemed pretty pissed. This is an uh,” he gestured at the building.

“Abortion clinic?”

“You sure that's how you want to handle it?” the young woman questioned softly.

“Well I don't think Leon has the balls to push me down the stairs,” Honey shrugged.

Leon’s cousin, if that's who she was heaved a sigh. “I like to think I have a sharp tongue and a bit of a shrewd mind. I get it from MY mom. Can I be straight with you?”

“I mean I guess it's easier from a stranger?”

“I know for a FACT you won't be giving up on anything. You are already more involved in changing the world than most people your age. And that doesn't have to stop because you're pregnant. Activists can have children or partners. Take her with you! Take Leon! You come from a long line of shit kickers, right?”

Honey narrowed her eyes. She studied this woman’s face again. Her eyes. HER eyes somehow. But Leon’s features. If she had a daughter, this is who she would want her to be. Sharp, like herself, but optimistic like her daddy.

Daddy.. “Did you say her? How do you know any of this? I swear Leon’s family is here or in Greece. You've got to be close, this one is like fucking Patty Duke. Identical cousins. Man you sure you're cool?”

He scratched his body and Honey heard a tinkling. Then she saw the dog tags. “Yeah I'm gravy.” He looked the way Leon had when she rejected him earlier. It broke Honey’s heart all over.

“Drafted?”

He held out his tags and had this longing in his eyes, “Love.”

“You went to Vietnam for love?”

“I stayed for it. Hardest thing I've ever done besides sobriety. Having a kid and an old man is a fucking piece of cake. If you were gonna go through with.. Termination, I think you would've done it right?”

“I just don't know if I have good enough of a reason besides maybe it'll be fine. I don't know what is freaking me the hell out! We both have happily married parents!! And grandparents. But I've put so much on hold for men. I've let them.”

“Yeah but Leon’s not like that.”

“No. He's not. But the drugs and the hare brained schemes terrify me. My uncle, Lenny Bruce? He ran cons with his wife that he knocked up and they were just. Tumultuous. He loved heroin almost more than Honey and Kitty. It killed him in the end. I don't want Leon and I to be the fluke too.”

“If I tell you to say the FIRST thing that comes to your mind about Leon. No thinking, open your mouth and speak. What is the first part of him you think of.”

“His kind eyes. Your eyes,” she gestured towards the man. “Yours are a bit lost, but they're still just as gentle.”

He bit his lip. Honey noticed it trembled just a tad. “Same thing,” his voice hoarse. “What's the first thing that you would DO for him?”

“Be with him in every life we've ever lived and ever will.”

The woman beside her took Honey’s hand in both of hers. Her annoying familiarity forced Honey to listen to everything she was about to say.

“My parents came from a similar taboo situation. They were immigrants (my dad twice), during the worst war. Activists who got in a bit of a mess. They were separated for a while when my mom was pregnant with me. She had me alone. Yet they have been together for OVER 25 years.”

“I cannot imagine two people better suited for each other than my parents. They trust one another IMPLICITLY and are both still very attracted to one another. Trust me. It's gross.!

“Now they have a successful business. My younger brother and I have our own jobs to pay for ourselves, but our parents are paying for us to go to school. Marriage or partnerships are work, but I have seen that it's worth it. I hope I can be as fearless as they are one day.”

Honey took her hand back and rubbed her face. “Why are you two so hell bent on me staying knocked up? Like there’s something real heavy you're not telling me.”

“We're just like, REALLY invested in Leon’s happiness!” the woman exclaimed.

“Or we could just tell her? I saved Dave that way.”

Honey narrowed her eyes, “Convincing.”

“You and Leon and this baby are going to literally save the world?”

“Alright,” Leon's doppelganger decided to take a turn. “Someone took me away from our mom when I was just a baby. I was raised pretty abusively. But I found my parents, OUR parents,” he gestured at his sister. “They just.. welcomed me in, AND my other adopted siblings.”

“You are so, so much like her. You and Leon are like BOTH of our parents. Really we Kostases.. Kosti? We leap without looking. If we fly, we fly. So I know what Leon's decision is. You said it yourself, he's worth being with in every life you live. Isn't that your answer?”

Honey sighed again and stood up. She looked back and forth between the man and woman claiming to have her best interest at heart. The siblings with her eyes and Leon’s. “I can't just rush into this.”

“Says the woman who fell in love on the set of a porno film.”

Honey ignored him. Ignored how he knew that. She put her hand on her stomach tenderly. “I have to say, if we have this kid, I'm not sure why, but I hope it.. she's like you. What's your name?”

“Selina. After the moon.”

Honey smiled in a knowing way. “Stick around, I'm sure Leon would love to see you.”

“We can't, but you'll understand all of this one day.”

“I'll see you again?”

“I promise.”

Then Honey and the cousins parted ways. She and Leon had a lot to discuss.

Tag: @neuroticpuppy @elliethesuperfruitlover @messengeronthemoon @super-unpredictable98 @bisexualnathanyoung @forenschik @nightmonsters @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private @frogs--are--bitches @ghouls-buddy @a-ghoulish-tale @bwritesstuff @icecoffeegirl @070188

[heratheanon]

Tupelo Honey

Word Count: 2.5k

Film: Moonwalkers

Warnings:  explicit and consensual drug use and fluffy smut and language

A/N: None of us know anything about the affable, simple-minded, downright hysterical stoner Leon from Moonwalkers. It’s fun to have a tabula rasa with such a great character.

Chapter 2 - Raspberry Swirl

Chapter 3 - Hooked On A Feeling

Summer to Fall of 1967

Sometimes pieces fall into place when you didn’t realize a puzzle was being assembled. Honey didn’t mean to get involved with anyone especially when she was used to picking up and taking off after a few weeks. She had friends, connections really, in several countries thanks to her Godfather. But Leon was the first stranger, so to speak, who offered her an entire flat. No questions.

“I got that part,” he had said to her excitedly over the phone a few weeks later after their uh, film debut.

“What? Leon that’s brilliant!” She had adopted an accent to blend in better. Everyone teased that she was more suited for cockney than proper, but her frame of reference was Julie Andrews.

Honey had made a habit of calling him from phone booths around England and France. She had never met someone so genuinely concerned about her safety that wasn’t her parents or siblings. It also took her aback that he started to read more avidly about what was happening in not just her country but his own.

“Yeah. I leave this week, so the flats open if ya want.” Honey could hear the shrug in his voice.

“I don’t have money to pay the rent. But I appreciate it, Leon. I’m at the hostel anyways.”

“Honey, you can’t stay there!” that familiar whine. “All kinds of nutters. You don’t have to worry about money. My parents own it.”

“Look who’s a posh boy,” she teased.

“I work for my dad, you know, when I’m not on a job. They own a restaurant downstairs. Just say yes, and the gaff’s yours. I don’t like you doing runners all the time “

“Leon that’s the point. When you’re.. Just that’s the point.”

“C'mon. You’ll have a bed and a shower and food and you won’t have to worry about where to go next. And if you get paranoid, just come stay with me in Greece, yeah?” He slipped that in so casually.

“Leon, what are we doing here?” Honey softened her tone and nervously glanced at the Londoners passing by. Afraid they could see the flush come to her face.

“Nothing. I know most of who you’re living with are good people. Don’t you just want to stand still for a minute?”

It did sound lovely.

“Greece? I thought it was Paris?”

“Nah, just the audition. We’re filming in Greece for 7 weeks. I get to go home to Mykonos when they don’t need me.”

“Greek? But you’re British.”

“Don’t let Dad hear you say that. We are Greek to the end. I’m an immigrant too, so you know.”

“It’s not exactly come up, has it? So your name isn’t really Leon.”

“It’s not NOT Leon,” he laughed. “Oi fine! It’s Leonidas. Ya happy now, Grazia? Yeah I’m gonna get to see my Yia-Yia, Theios and cousins.”

“Huh,” Honey got lost in thought, “We call them Tio in Italian. I wish I could see my family. I’ve never met them.” Her voice trailed off.

“Then come with me. We could go see them.” Leon wasn’t asking anymore and Honey wasn’t resisting either.

There were three major fundamentals Honey learned about Leon in the four months they spent together in the Aegean Sea.

Keep reading

[heratheanon]

Tupelo Honey

Word Count: 2k

Film: Moonwalkers

Warnings:  explicit and consensual drug use and smut

A/N: None of us know anything about the affable, simple-minded, downright hysterical stoner Leon from Moonwalkers. It’s fun to have a tabula rasa with such a great character.

Chapter 1: The Kult of Dionysus

Chapter 2 - Raspberry Swirl

Leon fidgeted nervously after having been instructed to “fluff” himself.  What some saw as a blank expression on his face aimed towards the “crew,” (if they could be called that)  but Honey saw confusion as he pulled his shirt over his head and nervously fumbled with his jeans.  

“They want you to get hard.  Masturbate or whatever you can to get it up,” her tone was frank while she slid out of her clothes.  

Keep reading

[heratheanon]

Tupelo Honey

Word Count: 1082

Film: Moonwalkers

Warnings: Swearing and minor drug use, sexual references

a/n: None of us know anything about the affable, simple-minded, downright hysterical stoner Leon from Moonwalkers. It’s fun to have a tabula rasa with such a great character.

Chapter One: Kult of Dionysus

Leon wasn’t always a junkie. Until he started orbiting inside Renatis’s gravitational pull, he was a rather promising young actor. There’s always that centuries old cliche of doing what you can to get ahead. An upper to get you through. Downers to finally sleep after rehearsals and auditions and shifts at the day job. Sleep with someone’s wife, never the daughter. But a foreign film, even if it sounds a bit dubious, would definitely benefit someone trying to leap from the stage to the screen.

Honey wasn’t always called Honey, but she was destined to be a radical. She, her siblings and parents were smuggled out of Florence before Mussolini was taken out. Papa was on Gestapo radar for anti-fascist teachings. So owning an underground comedy club in Manhattan made sense. Lenny Bruce was Honey’s godfather, and she knew Jack Kerouac and Alan Ginsburg before she knew Cinderella and Snow White. It was Uncle Lenny who told her she needed to be a bit more bitter and not so sweet. Honey caught the flies. That sweetness is how she ended up on the run. Now strapped for cash, Honey figured a bit part in some weird foreign film would get her to India.

Keep reading

[heratheanon]

This was so good!

And the ending, I gasped!

I'm sad it's "the end" though.

Tupelo Honey

Word count- 3400

Warnings- slightly graphic description of childbirth, mentions gun violence, m!f oral sex

A/N- After a year and a half, the origin of Honey and Leon comes to an end with a death, a dramatic birth and the emergence of a villain who would haunt the Kostas family for the next fifty years.

Special Note- To @bisexualnathanyoung @magic-multicolored-miracle @robertsheehanownsmyass @elliethesuperfruitlover and @messengeronthemoon (wherever you may be) thank you from the bottom of my heart. Leon and Honey would've been nothing but three chapters without you.

Chapter 6- Dream A Little Dream of Me

How did they get here? Leon thought. Racing through the French countryside towards God knows where. His gut told him no one was following. No one was left to come for them.

Ella was doing her level best to ignore what was taking place besides her. The window rolled down and she smoked casually with one hand out of it. She tried to stroke Honey's hair while the pregnant woman cried out every so often. The anguish happened faster as Tom sped along.

“Mate, I think you best stop. She's doing my head in.” Jonny announced from the passenger seat.

“Oh it wasn't from where the fucking SHOT GUN HIT YOU IN THE FACE AFTER SHOOTING BLINDLY IN A GUN FIGHT YOU POMPOUS, BRITISH HOWDY DOODIE?!” Honey screamed from the backseat. She clawed at his face while scrambling for his collar to yank him back in between the seats. “YOU SHOT ME YOU CUNT!”

Honey laughed. She had no choice. A piercing, maddening sound escaped her in the midst of contractions. “It was under control. I had him. I had that ratty little bastard. You fucked up so bad Thorpe. We killed Leon.” Her laughter turned to hysterical tears.

However many hours ago, the quickening happened in the chaos. Watching it turned to shit, Selina wanted to make her debut. Two weeks early. Then she was out of her body in the middle of a slaughter. There was Kidman and Jonny and the cold steel in her hands. Kickback that drove a gun back into her stomach and Jonny’s into his own face. In the center with a look of shock was Leon.

“You died,” she screamed around her most painful contraction yet.

“Did I?” Leon hid panic behind amusement. “But I'm here.”

“Don't fuck with me, Kostas. I held you in my arms while you bled to death!!” Honey sat up and tore at Leon's shirt. “Jonny said it's happened before! What does that even mean, Leon?!”

“I think Jonathan’s right, Tom. She's gonna have this baby soon. He ignored her pawing at his skin and begging him to tell her where they were. Where had his wounds gone.

The car came to a stop. A sign for Spanish towns loomed in front of the car. Shotgun pellets poured out of Leon's chest onto the back seat. He winced and smiled with a shrug. She slapped him. Tom lit a cigar.

----

Honey couldn't fathom allowing her daughter, their daughter to be born like this. With her mother cramped in the backseat of a stolen muscle car on the side of some foreign road in the middle of the night. Ella yelled in French as Honey propped against her. Jonny outside the car pacing back and forth with cocaine and a cigarette. At least he was trying to flag down passersby.

Leon between her legs, Honey giggled amidst the searing pain that coursed through her body. That was how she got in this mess. Those curls and wide panicked eyes like the Aegean sea, his mouth agape like usual. She could tell, as she screamed through a contraction, that he was thinking. Processing the situation as she braced a foot on his chest.

Then Leon opened his hand and stared at his palm. He held it up, "Is my hand too big?"

"ARE YOU STILL TRIPPING?!" Honey screamed. Then pain tore through her and she screamed for that. She felt pressure, her body said push. She refused.

"No! I read about.. Nevermind." Without asking Leon took the palm of his hand and pressed it to Honey's vagina. A look of concentration quickly turned to awe. "It's her head. I feel her head. You best push, Gracie."

"Not in this nasty Chevy I won't. I'll stand in that field and let it all come out of my snatch in the dirt before I do it here." She cried and struggled and crawled out of the car.

Honey stumbled and each footstep felt like knives. Her body was wrenching apart as she hurried past Kidman. He had fallen silent save for inhales of his cigar. He grabbed her by the waist and she cried out in frustration and kicked out to get away, but Tom was so much stronger.

"Dollface You ain't birthing your daughter in the dirt. Stand above this." He took his suit jacket and laid it on the ground at her feet. "Now fucking stand here for Leon. Let him take care of you."

"Why do you care?" Honey grunted as she pitched forward into Kidman's chest.

"Against my better fucking judgment, I like the skinny bastard. Now stop being such a bitch and let us help."

So Honey did. She stood with her back to the man who resembled a disgruntled lion and reached for Leon. They tangled their arms together and she steadied herself.

A primal scream escaped from Honey's mouth as she listened to her body. Her baby. Leon's mindless comforting babble drowned out by it as she looked up at the sky and understood everything.

Those creation myths where some god split in two and his children tumbled out of him. Honey did that, cleaved in two. Except it wasn't children that sprang from her body as Leon got down on his knees to pull a living being from her. Her body had torn in half and she had given birth to the moon.

I'm delirious, she thought as Leon cried and Tom laughed. A strange sound drowned out by the screams coming from Leon's arms. She sank to the grass and Kidman followed hoping to soften the blow. Leon joined in the slowest of motions beside her.

"Here she is, love," Leon whispered and handed Honey their daughter.

As Honey laid in the grass with Selina cradled in her arms, her umbilical cord still connected mother to daughter, she thought back to the start. How there was a future where this baby was a beautiful grown woman. That she would have Leon's nose and untamed hair and stillness. But there would be a fire under her skin, a tilt to her chin and Honey's dark eyes full of defiance.

"She told me I was going to go away. That we would get separated." Honey traced along the baby's lips which also belonged to Leon.

Honey realized Leon was yelling at Jonny to give him his shoelaces. Jonny was bitching that they were Ferragamo. Kidman was handing Leon a switchblade and walking him through the next steps he had seen at a war hospital in Saigon. Leon stopped to jab the tip of the blade in Jonny's shin.

"Give me the cunting shoelace, Thorpe. Or I'll do what The Iron Monger never could, cut your willy off."

Honey laughed maniacally as Jonny obliged. Her head swam from blood loss and pain and hunger. The baby wailed, and in her daze the new mother instinctively pulled her breast free from her shirt and held it to the newborn's mouth. Selina took it easier than Honey ever anticipated.

"C'est une petite fille heureuse. Le miel est déjà une bonne mère," Ella called from her position by the car. A tinge of green to her porcelain skin could be seen in the moonlight. She looked disgusted from the sight of the birth.

"As for the woman you met, Gracie?" Leon spoke gently as he tied off the cord. "Her past didn't have to be our future. This you stayed. I'm sure there's even a version of us who haven't quite met yet."

Honey was overcome by delirium. She knew she should be happy, and she was. Somewhere. But something was taking her over. It was the sense of fight. She held Selina tight to her body and finally remembered why they were even on the run. The dead bodies scattered and pooled with blood in the hallways. The shock that Leon was in after seeing a man with an axe in his back. Jonny equally terrified from the carnage.

Leon wiped the blade on his jeans and held the cord in his hand. He stared at the ropey organ in his grasp, his free hand clamored at the beard on his face. He tore it off, careful to hide his wincing. The pain was temporary compared to his partner’s. He tossed the umbilical cord into the night along with the fake beard.

Under the moonlight, it was evident to Honey how young he was. They were. Not 20 like Nick and Toula when Leon was born. Or even 23 like Giacomo and Theresa when she was born. How had Theresa spent SIX YEARS consecutively of her life pregnant.

Was it cyclical? Honey thought as she reached between her legs and felt something else protruding from her body. Was that beautiful girl from the future in love with a beautiful boy she met one night? A boy with indescribable eyes and personality? Would their child do the same?

A strange sensation washed over Honey. Like it was true as it settled in her skin and heart. It was a premonition. A circle of lust and love and Honey and Leon. It stretched across time.

She giggled at the notion of endless versions of her and Leon just hooking up and falling in love for eternity. God she fucking loved him, and wanted every woman who came from her to love and be loved by Leon. And she tried to articulate this but instead:

“Leon.. The bag,” Honey attempted to say. The desire to push again overwhelmed her. “The papers and the cash..” she groaned and anchored a foot in the grass. Her other one propped up on his shoulder .

Without really thinking, he held her ankle and kissed it. Honey growled in frustration and pain, “NOT NOW, LEON! Ohhhh, the afterbirth!” A sound like a banshee came from somewhere inside of the small woman.

“Whot?!” Leon panicked, but it was too late. What remained of Honey’s pregnancy has been delivered into his lap. He and Jonny both vomited into the grass together.

Tom stood and lit his cigar again, "This is great and all but kid we gotta move. "I'm not dying on the side of the road in pussy France"

“Silly Tom, they invented the revolution!” Honey giggled drunkenly.

"Yeah, in 1760 something. The Russians did it better. We have to keep moving. At least get you to a hospital."

“Oh. Ok. That's a good idea. My twat hurts really bad."

"No shit?"

"I can't walk."

Tom turned to Leon and barked an order "Kid, you carry Dollface here. I'll take the baby."

"Not if you want me to kill you,” Honey said plain as day and deadly serious.

"There's our girl. Just do it.”

“You called me a bitch."

“Sure did. Give me the baby just till we get going, ok? I'll wrap her up in Leon's cardigan since you ruined my jacket.”

Tom didn't wait for her to hand him the baby, but Honey didn't fight him either. She let him carefully wrap Selina up in that brown monstrosity she begged Leon to ditch. Now it would keep their daughter safe and warm until they could really stop.

Honey trusted Kidman with her life and Selina’s. The ex-fed who chased her out of America was in the running to be Selina’s Godfather. This little family coaxed the good out of everyone.

No matter how many times he had carried her these last two years, Leon’s strength amazed Honey. Not that she was very big at 5’2 and probably 120 pounds due to the baby. He was raised on hard work and fishing boats.

Was that late summer early fall in Mykonos really only two years ago?

Honey’s thoughts were once again nostalgic and intrusive as she stared up at the night sky as it whizzed by overhead. The stars like comets as her fiancé moved with speed, a hint of fear just below the surface. No one had followed them though because Tom left them all dead. Like an old-fashioned cowboy shootout.

She felt her giggles grow into full on laughter with a snort as she pointed heavenwards, "There's very tiny humans in space, you know. It really was a giant leap for small men floating about in all that.. space. Oh.. space!” Then Honey caressed her lover’s cheek and grew serious, “Leon.. you bastards really did fuck all to make it realistic, didn't you?”

His response was one of frustration and dare anyone say anger, "Spot on, poppet. Didn't wanna be there and I was trippin my balls off. Almost literally"

"Buzz buzz!! Let's never get pregnant ever again."

"Is this what I'm like when I'm high? Fuck me, no wonder you get livid. As for the pregnant part, that requires me to wear condoms or you to go on that birth control.”

"We can take our chances,” Honey sounded quite content with her change of mind.

"Wasn't there a boy too, you said?" Leon asked almost as if he had always just been playing along.

Ella had opened the door so that he could lay the new mother down gently in the back seat again. She would slide into the front between Kidman and Jonny who struggled with not smoking around the newborn. Instead he did several bumps of coke from a bag in his coat pocket.

Honey sat up so Leon could sit, and she laid down with her head in his lap. Tom handed the baby off to the new father who placed her on the seat beside Honey’s curled body. His fingers combed through her hair as the car took off to God knows where. They were both drifting weightless to sleep.

"Apollo follows close behind his sister doesn't he?” Honey yawned. She cradled the brown cardigan that swaddled Selina in her arms and kissed the baby’s head. “Remember that olive grove in Greece where we were watched by Artemis? Don't you think she blessed us? Our daughter is the living moon. And our future boy will be.. our sunshine.”

Jonny grimaced from the front seat, "If my parents said that hippie, spiritual shit about me, I’d be LOADS better at being human. Leon she’s fucking mental that. Barmy from blood loss. I think Kidman's right, she needs the hospital."

It was the first time Jonny had spoken besides two words since they left London. He went to continue but the couple in the back were asleep; besides the radio cut them off in Spanish.

“Los estadounidenses han aterrizado en la luna!!” It repeated. The Americans have landed on the moon!

They had done it. They had really fucking done it!

“They sure did.” Kidman was the only one who dared to speak as dawn began to break over the Spanish countryside. He and Jonny stared at each other. “Didn't they?”

--- Six Months Later, Kalafati Greece ---

“No! THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED THE NIGHT I GOT KNOCKED UP WITH SELINA!” she whispers loudly.

Leon threw Honey over his shoulder then slapped her on the ass. “It isn’t like you’re any less portable.”

He raced into the bedroom. Haphazardly tossing Honey onto the bed they both giggle. Giddy with the prospect of being together for the first time in ages. Touching, kissing, manipulating every blessed inch of sun-darkened skin.

Leon stood at the foot of the bed before grabbing Honey by the calves and roughly tugging so that her thighs enveloped him. He tore at the fabric covering her breasts until they were free. She clamored for his hips, his back. She clawed at him until he bent over and captured a nipple in his mouth.

He coaxed it pert while being acutely aware what the motion may do to a nursing mother. He teased the bud and switched to the other. His favor changed between the both of them rapidly.

Honey arched her back into him. Her hands lost in that wild hair as he blazed over skin. The air hummed and crackled while she moaned. She broke free to twist her grip in the sheets. The other urged him downward.

Leon undid the row of buttons without lifting his head. He bit at her stomach then dipped his tongue inside of her navel. A strangled squeal mixed with a moan escaped Honey. He loved how ticklish she could be.

“Are you alright with me going down on you, love?” The words muddled by Honey's thighs (which he kissed) and the downy hair inside of them. He flicked the tip of his tongue around the entrance.

“Leon,” she called his name. “Please?” That one word was full of want as much as he was hungry for her.

Honey couldn't even be cheeky, making a retort about her parts and the baby like he had anticipated. He dove into her with the desire she could see in him while he gazed up at her face. Watching while he made a lazy circle around her clit for the first time since July.

She undulated. His mouth followed when she started an up and downward motion with her hips. He dragged his tongue along her sex when she came to rest back on the bed. Then the opposite direction when Honey lifted herself. That laziness turned to a speed that made her drunk on Leon.

The sound of someone clearing their throat from the balcony elicited a scream from Honey. Leon scrambled up onto the bed with his arms around her in a protective circle.

“Sorry to interrupt your.. Oral copulation. I do find sexual behavior vulgar, yet fascinating between two people such as yourselves.”

A man who stood a little less or more the same height as Leon stepped out from the shadow of the Bougainvillea that covered the doorframe. Impeccably dressed, a piece of glass covering his left eye caught the moonlight.

Honey could feel Leon's heart beating wildly in his chest, but his body was rigid. Stiff with fight. His biceps and stomach flexed. His grip molded into fists. Her skin pimpled with goose flesh; the hair on her arms and neck stood on end. Like this stranger rode in on a cloud of static electricity

The man stepped forward all the while stroking a groomed mustache and goatee. The mustache curled at the edges that gave him the effect of a Dickensian villain. He used a walking stick with a carved ivory elephant, that Honey knew he certainly did NOT need.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Sir-”

“You're the bloody Monocle,” Leon said in disbelief.

“The what?” Honey never took her eyes off the man. “That filthy rich bastard who somehow made a fucking fortune on umbrellas?”

The stranger winced at her coarse language. “Sir Reginald Hargreeves. Mr. Kidman told me you were here after that appalling debacle in London. I believe my colleagues and myself have some things to discuss with you.”

“Uh go fuck yourself, Uncle Pennybags. Isn't there a Monopoly game you escaped from somewhere?”

“Oh yes, he told me you were the.. Spirited, Miss Bartucci. Trust me. You'll want to come with us back to Washington.”

“It's Kostas. We got married. Leon and I aren't fucking going anywhere with a James Bond villain.”

“FASCINATING!! Your spunk is both frustrating and wonderful. Would you like to meet my companion, Pogo?”

Reginald clapped his hands and a chimpanzee appeared from the other room. He too was remarkably dressed, and in his arms he held a bundle rather gently. The bundle suddenly babbled and clutched at the ape’s fur. He cooed and rocked it very much like a human would.

“SELINA!!” Both Leon and Honey screamed. Each launched forward in a singular, synchronized motion.

They reached for the baby, but Pogo hurried away and up over the side of the balcony in a fluid motion. Selina clutched tight to his chest.

A sob racked Honey’s body, but a fire lit under her. She lunged for the billionaire with fingers curled like claws. “GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER!”

Reginald swatted her wrist with the handle of his cane. Pain shot through Honey; she kept coming until Leon grabbed her by the waist. Instinct told him The Monocle was dangerous. Inhuman.

An emotionless smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “I believe now you'll come willingly?”

So (without much of a choice), they did.

- The End -

@forenschik @firstpersonnarrator @a-ghoulish-tale @holidayspirits @rob-private @love-is-dirty-baby @sylvertyger @khronoswheel @frogs--are--bitches @heratheanon @vonkimmeren @falloutby

And to @super-unpredictable98 (even though we aren't on speaking terms anymore) you were there once too.