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callboxkat · 4 years ago

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Infinitesimal (part 57)

Author’s note: Happy Monday! Sorry for the delay on this. I was trying to decide which direction I wanted to take one of the scenes.

Warnings: arguing, fear, sleep deprivation, illness and injury mention, hospital mention, food mention, nsfw mention, crude humor, stalking mention, Remus, Logan is Stressed

Word count: 4300

Infinitesimal Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

...

“Are… you okay?” Virgil asked warily. Logan was acting very strangely.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if the human had even heard. He just lay there on the floor, unmoving. Then, finally, he responded, his voice an indistinct mumble.

“Mmm. Tired.”

Virgil glanced at his companions. Emile and Patton both looked much more concerned than afraid at this point, although it was clear that they were far from relaxed.

He frowned, turning back as the human’s breathing deepened, and a quiet snore came from his direction. Had he actually just fallen asleep on the living room floor, in the middle of their conversation?

“Logan?” Emile asked hesitantly.

The human didn’t respond.

“Great,” Virgil muttered, eyeing him.

Patton sat up a bit, releasing one of Virgil’s hands to rub at his own shadowed eyes. “Is he okay?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“He’s just sleeping,” Virgil said.

“No… no, I know. I meant… Roman. Is Roman okay?”

“Logan said he’d be home in a day or two,” Emile said. “It sounds like he’ll be fine.”

Patton sniffled. “Just… Logan seemed….”

Virgil glanced at the human again, then gave Patton a reassuring look. Leave it to Patton to care about a human, of all things. “Let’s focus on you. We can’t do anything about Roman. Are you feeling better?”

Patton took a second, then hesitantly nodded. He took a shuddering breath and let it out. “It’s gone,” he said, glancing towards where Emile lay. Virgil realized he must have been talking about the box.

“It is. And I won’t let him, or anyone else, put it back. I swear.” The promise felt bitter on his tongue—he’d made it before, and hadn’t been able to keep it when it mattered. At least he’d gotten Patton out as fast as he could; and his friend was, at least physically, okay; but that didn’t change the fact that he never should have been put in the box in the first place

Patton, the sweet guy he was, didn’t bring up Virgil’s failure, and instead only nodded again. Maybe he just needed to believe that Virgil could protect him.

“Do you think you can sleep?” Virgil asked. Patton looked exhausted, between the stress of everything and his lack of rest the night before. “We can go back over to Em, and you can lie down.”

“…You?”

Virgil closed his eyes momentarily, sighing. “I don’t think I can sleep with Logan here, to be honest, even if I tried. I’ll sleep later, though, I promise.”

Patton nodded absently, and Virgil grabbed his crutch. He led his friend back to their bed at Emile’s side, and Patton lay down. Virgil waited for him to get comfortable, then went to grab some food from the supplies the humans had provided. Judging by the fact that Logan had just passed out on the floor, they probably weren’t getting lunch for a while; and they hadn’t had breakfast, either.

When he returned, he handed some of the dried fruit he’d grabbed to his brother, keeping the rest for himself. Patton was either already asleep or close to it, so Virgil decided to wait on giving him his share.

“Thanks,” Emile murmured.

Virgil gave him an acknowledging glance, then moved to sit on Patton’s other side.

Logan hadn’t moved.

Virgil sat back and took a bite of dried mango, his eyes on the still form on the floor.

…

Logan woke to the sound of knocking. He turned his head to the side, scrunching his eyes shut, then opened them, confused. Something was wrong. He wasn’t in his bed: the surface he lay on was far too hard. As if that wasn’t confusing enough, the ceiling above him lacked its usual star stickers. He wasn’t even in his bedroom.

“Am I on the floor?” he asked himself.

“Yes,” a voice informed him.

He looked up. Two small figures watched him from the table opposite him. Virgil and Emile.

“Are you going to get the door?” Virgil asked. “They’re going to wake up Patton.”

Logan blinked, then pushed himself up into a sitting position. He glanced at the clock, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He must have been out for nearly two hours, although he didn’t actually remember falling asleep. Clearly, he hadn’t made it to his bed. That fact, even as tired as he was, surprised him. Normally, he had a very difficult time sleeping anywhere other than his own bed. The fact that he had managed to do so in the middle of the floor was… telling.

He turned back to Virgil, and started to get to his feet. “Um… yes, of course I’ll get it.”

“Don’t let them in here,” Virgil said, as if that needed stating.

Logan simply nodded absently, straightened his clothes—he desperately needed to change into something other than pajamas—and walked to the door of the apartment. He smoothed down his hair, adjusted his glasses, and opened it.

His landlord, Joan, stood there, wearing an evergreen-colored beanie that almost but didn’t quite match their sweater. Their eyes flicked to Logan’s own atypical outfit before resting on his face.

“Hey, Logan. Merry Christmas,” they said, holding out a pair of candy canes with a slightly awkward smile. “I’m a day early, but I figured nobody would want to be bothered tomorrow. Plus, it’s never a bad time for candy canes.”

“Thanks,” Logan said, accepting the presents. Each candy cane had a curly green ribbon tied around it. They tickled where they brushed against his hand.

Joan shifted, watching as Logan briefly stepped away to set the candy on the counter. “Uh, while I’m here… I guess there’s not point pretending I’m not… well, curious isn’t exactly the right word. Worried, I guess. Can I ask what happened last night? I saw an ambulance, or something, I think; and I thought I saw you outside with them. Is everything okay?” They glanced around the kitchen, and Logan was silently glad that it was impossible to see into the living room from this angle.

Logan folded his arms, glancing down. He’d expected the question. “Roman had an asthma attack last night, and I had to call the paramedics. He’s in the hospital now. I came home to get some of his belongings for him. I’m sorry if the ambulance disturbed you.”

Joan looked shocked, their eyebrows nearly disappearing under their beanie. “Oh, f—my gosh; that’s terrible!”

Logan gestured around the kitchen. “They didn’t damage anything, I assure you.” He paused, then, remembering the box of polished rocks that Roman had knocked down, and the fact that he had slipped and fallen on some of them. “There might be some scratches on the floor of one of the bedrooms, but that’s it.”

“Logan—no, that’s not why I’m here. I don’t care if they punched a hole in the wall. Is Roman okay?”

Logan took a deep breath, steadying himself. “He should be. They got him stabilized. He’s going to spend the next day or two in the hospital, though, just to be safe.”

Joan grimaced. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Agreed. I’m sure he’d rather be home.”

“I’d hate to spend Christmas in the hospital. Please give him my best, will you?”

Logan glanced away. He didn’t care much about Christmas, personally; but he knew that Roman was fond of the holiday. “Of course.”

“At least it sounds like he’ll be okay. That’s good news. Is there anything I can do for you guys?”

Logan paused. “I don’t believe so.”

“Okay. Well, I’m here for you. If you think of anything, just let me know.”

“Thank you, Joan.”

Joan lingered for a moment, nodded to themself, and stepped back. “Have a good day,” they offered, smiling sympathetically before walking away, presumably to deliver more candy canes.

…

After Joan left, Logan wandered back towards the middle of the kitchen, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He took a second to reset, let out a long sigh, and strode over to the cabinets. He put together a quick lunch for himself and the “mouse-men”—just toast with jam, nothing fancy—since they hadn’t gotten to eat earlier.

He carried the “mouse-men” their portions of the meal, and set the dishes down as quietly as he could. Still, Patton stirred, earning him an unhappy look from Virgil.

“Sorry,” Logan mouthed. It seemed he couldn’t do anything right.

Emile looked at him with what seemed to be a sympathetic expression, although it was entirely possible that he imagined it. Logan simply straightened back up and crept out of the room, hopefully without disturbing them any further.

Alone again, Logan took the chance to hop in the shower, get dressed, and brush his teeth. By the time he was ready to gather the supplies he’d promised Roman, he felt much more like himself.

Roman’s backpack was perfect for the job, after Logan had removed its usual contents and stacked them neatly on the desk. He put in Roman’s favorite blanket first, folded and rolled up at the bottom, followed by his wallet, which he zipped up in the front pouch. He grabbed one of his pillows next, which he left to the side of the backpack, and then moved to Roman’s dresser for his hairbrush, eye mask, toothbrush and toothpaste, and a pair of fluffy socks, among other items. He left Roman’s phone on the charger for the moment, but he snatched the earbuds that had been knocked to the floor.

Logan was still figuring out how best to fit everything in the backpack when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He frowned, setting down the hairbrush he was holding. Had Joan returned for some reason?

He walked down the hall and into the kitchen, pausing by the doorway into the living room to offer a placating gesture to the “mouse-men”. Then, he strode to the door, straightened his glasses, and opened it.

The grinning young man who stood there was decidedly not Joan.

“Finally!” he said. “This’s gotta be like the tenth time I’ve stopped by! I was starting to think you’d never answer!”

The man at the door had familiar, curly dark hair, freckled brown skin, and rich brown eyes. He looked practically just like Roman, except with double-pierced ears, crooked front teeth, and the beginnings of a mustache and beard. He also had a patch of hair just above his forehead which grew white, in stark contrast to the rest of his nearly-black hair. Poliosis, Logan absently registered, or possibly vitiligo. Bleach didn’t seem likely, given the asymmetrical shape and precise edges.

Logan stared at the man for a second, processing, then said, “…You must be Remus.”

The young man—Remus—quirked an eyebrow teasingly. “Oh, you’ve heard of me?” His voice was also very similar to Roman’s; but it was slightly more nasal, a difference which Logan suspected was purposeful. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see Logan at the door, so he must have known that Roman had a roommate.

“I know of you,” Logan confirmed. He looked the visitor up and down. “Why are you here?”

“Can’t a guy come see his brother for Christmas?”

“Well… of course; but why come here, rather than see your parents? I thought…” Logan trailed off, unsure how much Roman would want him to say here. He really didn’t know much about the animosity in Roman’s family. Was it one-sided? How much did it involve Remus, if at all? Would Roman want his brother here? He didn’t know much about his roommate’s twin, other than the fact that he existed, of course. And that he had apparently decided to show up on their doorstep, unannounced, for Christmas.

“Ah, they suck,” Remus was saying. “I mean, Roman’s pretty lame, but he’s not like that.”

Logan was unsure how to respond to that, so he didn’t.

“Anyway, where is that dork?” He giggled, seemingly unable to contain himself. “You know, dork, like a whale—”

“He’s not here,” Logan interrupted, before Remus could finish that sentence.

Remus tilted his head comically far, like a dog listening. “Why not?”

“He’s… preoccupied,” Logan settled on.

Remus squinted, straightening up, and bobbed forward onto his tiptoes before settling back on his heels. “You’re lying,” he declared. “Is he here? Tell him the attractive brother is here!” He tried to look around Logan, without much success. “Rooooman! Stop making your roomie lie for you! That’s not nice! Come out, come out, come out!”

Logan sighed, adjusting his grip on the door. “Please lower your volume. Roman is not present to hear you, but you will disturb the neighbors.” And the “mouse-men”, but even stressed and sleep deprived, Logan knew better than to mention them.

Remus pouted; but he did stop shouting, which was appreciated.

“How did you even find this apartment?” Logan asked. “I was under the impression that Roman hadn’t shared its location with his family.”

Remus waggled his eyebrows, his slightly off-kilter grin returning. “You’d be surprised what a little internet stalking can turn up.”

Logan frowned. “…Ah.”

“What’s your name, by the way? Kinda unfair that you know mine and I don’t know yours.”

“It’s Logan.”

“Ooh, like a nerdy Wolverine.”

“…I suppose.”

“So, are you going to drag Roman out here for me, Nerdy Wolverine? I came all the way out here to see him!”

Logan hovered uncertainly, trying to decide what to do. “Remus… would you mind waiting here for a moment? I’d like to call your brother.”

“Can’t I wait inside?” he asked, pouting. “It’s boring out here, and I really have to pee. I promise I won’t break anything, no matter how fun it looks to smash.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you, and I’d like to speak with Roman first.”

Remus sighed, tugging on one of his earlobes. “Fine, go ahead.”

Logan closed the door, locked it just in case (Remus seemed… rather odd), then went to Roman’s room, where his roommate’s phone sat on the nightstand. He typed in the passcode, which Roman had given him at the hospital, and dialed his own number.

It rang a few times.

“Hmm?” a sleepy, breathy voice answered. “Lo?”

“Hi, Roman. Sorry if I woke you. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he responded. Logan heard him shift, and the beeping of the heart monitor in the background. “You… coming back… soon?”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’ll be back in a little while, I’m just getting the stuff you asked for together. But Roman, I wanted to ask you…” He sighed. “Well, Remus is here.”

“…Remus?”

“Yes. He showed up at our apartment, looking for you. I’m not sure what to tell him.”

Roman was silent for a moment.

Logan tapped his fingers on his leg. “Also, I just wanted to check—he’s not… violent, is he? His behavior so far is somewhat concerning.”

“No,” Roman said quickly, clearing his throat. “No, he’s not… he’s just… weird, like that…. He doesn’t… have much… of a filter.”

That was reassuring, but Roman still hadn’t said what he actually wanted Logan to do about his brother’s presence.

“Should I ask him to leave?”

“Um… wh… why’s he there?”

“He said he wanted to see you for Christmas.”

“Why?”

“Because he is your brother, I would assume, and it’s common for families to want to get together to celebrate holidays such as this one. Do you have a preference for what I should tell him? I understand if you don’t wish to see him, and I will follow whatever your decision is.”

Roman coughed away from the phone, then returned. “Did he… did he say… why he’s… not….?” He trailed off

“Why he’s here, and not with your parents?” Logan suggested, not wanting Roman to overexert himself.

Roman made an affirmative noise.

“He, ah, he claimed that your parents quote, ‘suck’.” Logan glanced towards the open bedroom door. “In the interest of honesty I should tell you he also said that you were ‘lame’, but, quote, ‘not like that’. He did not explain what he meant by ‘like that’.”

Roman didn’t respond, although Logan could still hear his breathing. There was a quiet thump.

“Roman?” Logan asked, raising his voice slightly.

There was a shuffling noise. “Mm, sorry,” he mumbled.

“What would you like me to do about Remus?”

There was another long silence, and Logan was about to ask if Roman was still there, when he finally responded, “Later.”

“You’ll tell me your answer later, or you’ll see him later? I apologize, but I really do need an answer now; he’s waiting at the door as we speak.”

“See ’im.”

Logan looked down at the floor, where several members of Roman’s rock collection still lay scattered. “I’ll have to tell him about your asthma attack, in that case—is that alright? I’m unsure of any course of action to avoid that. Unless you want me to keep him away until you come home.”

“Mm… ’kay.”

“Okay. I’ll ask for his contact information so we can tell him when you’re ready to see him. I’m on my way with your things.”

“S’you,” Roman mumbled.

“I’ll be seeing you, too. Get some sleep.” Logan ended the call, slipped the phone in his pocket, put the charger in Roman’s backpack, and brought that and the pillow back to the kitchen.

He set the items on the counter, then reluctantly turned to the apartment door. He was sure an uncomfortable conversation waited just beyond it. Not wanting to put it off longer than necessary, Logan strode over to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.

Remus was sitting on the hallway floor, his legs spread out, on his phone. He looked up as the door opened.

“Specs, you came back for me!”

“I did.”

“So? What’s the scoop? Can I come see Mr. Too-Cool-to-Answer-the-Door?”

Logan sighed. There was no good way to have this conversation, he supposed. He might as well just get on with it. “Remus… there’s something you need to know.”

Remus’s manic grin slipped. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

“No, it’s not that,” Logan said. “It’s… well, Roman really isn’t here. He’s in the hospital.”

Remus’s eyes widened, and he got to his feet. “He’s what?”

“He had an asthma attack last night. He should be fine, but he’s in the hospital now, and he’ll stay there at least until tomorrow, possibly the day after.”

Remus’s mouth was agape.

“I didn’t mean to spring this on you—I didn’t have Roman’s permission to tell you before.”

Remus’s expression hardened. “I want to see him.”

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to until later—"

“No, no, no, no. I want to see him now. Take me to see him. He’s my brother; you don’t get to tell me I can’t see him!”

“Remus, he’s asleep right now. He didn’t get any rest last night, and he’s quite exhausted with everything going on. I doubt he’s up to having visitors.”

Remus glared for a moment, then deflated. “You’re going to see him,” he pointed out, folding his arms. His eyes flicked to the counter behind Logan, where Roman’s backpack sat.

“…I am,” he confirmed. “To drop off some things he requested, no more.”

Remus was tugging at some loose threads in his jacket sleeve, still clearly agitated.

“I told Roman I’d collect your contact information. That way I can text you when he’s ready to see you.”

Remus had already created a new hole in his jacket, although the jacket had quite a few others to match. “Fine,” he said. He tapped a few things on his phone and thrusted it at Logan, who fumbled to take it. The screen was cracked in several places, a few bits of glass missing from one side. The page to create a new contact was pulled up. Logan silently typed in his information and handed the phone back, then passed over Roman’s as well, for Remus to put in his own information.

“I’ve got Roman’s cell at the moment,” Logan informed him, as Remus turned it over to inspect the Aladdin phone case, “but I’ll text you from mine later.”

Remus frowned. “Why’ve you got his phone?”

“He has mine. Our departure from the apartment was rather… hurried, this morning, and his phone was left behind.”

“Hm.” Remus typed in his info. “Well, as long as somebody texts me. Or I’m coming back here and breaking the door down.”

Logan took the phone back. “I don’t doubt it.”

“…You did say he’s okay, right?”

Logan slipped the phone in his pocket. “Yes. They got him stabilized. They simply want to keep him overnight to monitor him. He’s on oxygen, and he’s in no state to be running any marathons, but he will be fine.”

Remus let out a long breath. “Good.”

“Has he had attacks like this before?” Logan asked. “That put him in the hospital?”

“Hmph. Well, there was one when we were like ten or eleven. His face turned purple.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Wow… that’s… unideal.”

“I called him Grape for like two years after that,” Remus shared matter-of-factly. “He called me Stinkbug for revenge.”

“Oh.” Logan glanced at the time on Roman’s phone. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, but I really should be going. Roman will be expecting me.”

Remus shifted where he stood. “Sure, yeah, overstaying welcomes and stuff, but can I come in first? I still really, really have to pee, and I feel like my d*ck’s going to explode, or just pop off or something, and that would be tragic, really, because then what are my boyfriends and I supposed to do?”

Logan blinked, unimpressed.

“…Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“I really do have to pee though. Please? It’ll take like two minutes, tops. Pinkie promise.”

He offered his pinkie finger, which Logan didn’t take. He debated for a long moment, thinking of the “mouse-men”, then reluctantly gestured him in. “Fine, come with me. The bathroom’s this way.” He stepped back, allowing Remus into the apartment and hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake.

Remus bounced in, glancing around. He whistled. “Ooh, nice digs!”

“The bathroom’s just this way.” Logan led him down the hall, more or less shuttling him along so that he didn’t get a chance to look too closely at anything—or rather, at one room in particular.

“Ooh, I get an escort? What are you hiding in here, a meth lab or something? A sex dungeon?” He squinted. “Or is it a mad scientist lair? You look like a mad scientist.”

Logan made an effort not to look towards the living room. “I simply don’t make a habit of letting near strangers wander about my apartment, whether or not they be related to my roommate. I don’t mean any offense.” He stopped outside the bathroom door and gestured for Remus to go inside.

Remus hopped in, turning around to grin at Logan. “Hope you hid the sex toys!”

Logan frowned as the door thudded shut in his face.

…

Logan slipped Roman’s backpack over his shoulders, and picked up the pillow. He was almost ready to leave, although there was one more thing he needed to do first.

Still carrying Roman’s things, Logan stepped into the living room. All three “mouse-men” were awake now, and they watched him as he approached. Patton leaned on Virgil’s shoulder, who sat beside his brother’s bed.

“So… who was that?” Virgil asked, his tone pointed. He was clearly angry but trying to hide it, although Logan doubted it was for his sake.

“Roman’s brother,” Logan said. “Remus.”

“Since when does he have a brother?”

“I’ve never met him before,” Logan explained. “It didn’t seem relevant to mention someone who I didn’t personally know or expect to meet.”

“So you just let someone you’ve never even met wander around in here, where they could have seen us? Even after last night?”

Logan winced. “I was with him the entire time. I wouldn’t have let him come in here.”

“What, were you going to body-slam him if he tried? Drag him out and hope he didn’t wonder what was in here you were so desperate to keep him from seeing?” He glanced at Patton as he finished, and let out a frustrated breath, forcing himself to relax.

Logan sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

“Virgil,” Emile murmured.

“What? You were just as scared as I was.”

“Maybe, but….” His next words were too quiet for Logan to make out. Logan just stood there as they whispered to each other, hugging Roman’s pillow to his chest and looking vaguely towards the window. Finally, Virgil shook his head, looking away, apparently persuaded to stop arguing for the moment.

Meanwhile, Patton yawned. “You—you brought a p-pillow this time,” he said hesitantly.

Logan blinked, and then realized that Patton was trying to make a joke. He forced a small smile to his lips as he turned back to the “mouse-man”. “I did,” he confirmed. The smile faded. “It’s for Roman; I’m just about to bring him some of his belongings, to hopefully make his stay in the hospital more comfortable.”

“Are you okay?” Patton asked.

Logan swallowed. “Yes, I’m quite alright. I apologize for earlier. That was….” He shook his head, looking down at the pillow in his arms. “I’m sorry if I made any of you uncomfortable. It was unintentional.”

A few seconds passed.

“Th… thank you for not letting them see us.”

Logan glanced up, surprised. It was Emile who had spoken, seeming nervous, but determined. “What?”

“The people last night, and… and Remus, was his name? Thank you for not letting them see us.”

“Of course. I know that you three have a vested interest in being secretive.”

“Still, I…” Emile glanced at Virgil, then back at Logan. “I know you didn’t have to do, um, any of this for us. So thank you.”

Logan could only nod.

“…Say hi to Roman for me?” Emile asked.

“Me too,” Patton murmured from where he sat against Virgil.

It was probably a testament to how tired and stressed he still felt, with the weight of everything going on, that Logan could have sworn he felt tears pricking at his eyes.

“I will.”

77 notes · View notes

yikesharringrove · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! I was just curious about Nancy and Jonathan’s relationship in your mango series! I was wondering if Nancy was an alpha? If she is, does that mean that Jonathan is a Beta or an Omega? Kids??? I have so many questions and am way too invested in this tiny part of this universe lol Please feel free to make this into a part with Steve and Billy talking to them about pups and bonding if you would like.

Masterlist

Part 29

I realized I literally haven’t mentioned the Wheelers this entire time rip to them I guess

Also I’m using this part as background to everything esp how Billy and Steve got together. Also no monster au I guess? tbh this part just made me realize NONE of this series is thought out

I literally never established a timeline, so I’ve decided it makes more sense for Billy to come to Hawkins earlier. You’ll see lmao. (this started as a little nonsense thing so the timeline of the whole Mango series is so whack pls no one try and do the math)

+I had traumatic emergency surgery on my uterus several years ago, so I’ve based all of Steve’s stuff on that

Steve dated Nancy Wheeler for about a month.

He was always drawn to fiery alphas, liked when they had sharp tongues, weren’t afraid to speak their mind. He liked ‘em smart.

Nancy seemed perfect to him, but Nancy didn’t like how much work omegas were. They needed constant reassurance of love, so much touching and cuddling, and that’s just not how she operates.

They had been casually dating for about a month early in her sophomore year when he asked her to spend his heat with him. She knew that meant he was serious about her, and let him down as gently as she could.

He didn’t take it too hard, and even invited her to a party he was throwing at his big empty house.

That was the first night she really talked to Jonathan Byers.

Their families had always been close, and they had been uncomfortable acquaintances for a long time, but she found him making a pip out of an apple, sat in the kitchen with him and got stoned for the very first time.

They were sitting close to one another, leaning closer, about to kiss when there was a splash outside, there was screaming.

They rushed out to see Steve Harrington, wet and shaking in the cold November night air, doing CPR on, on Barb.

He yelled at Tommy H., told him to call an ambulance.

Barb looked bad. Her lips were tinged blue, her skin pale.

She sank down next to her. Jonathan gently touching her back.

Most of the kids ran when they heard authorities were coming.

She held Barb’s freezing hand until the paramedics arrived.

Steve hadn’t stopped doing CPR the entire time had heard Barb’s ribs crack and splinter from the force.

The paramedics called it.

Steve was never really the same after that. He had become more withdrawn, had quit the swim team and stopped throwing big parties, he started babysitting Dustin Henderson, ended up babysitting most of the party soon enough.

He was still nice to Nancy, would ask her and Jonathan to hang out sometimes. She always thought he was sweet that he was a big heart. Hell, she sat there while he did CPR on her best friend for twenty minutes, but it was easier with Jon. As a beta, she didn’t have to be someone she wasn’t just to keep him from emotional breakdown.

But then Billy Hargrove rolled into town in the beginning of the summer, was all California golden, a big imposing alpha, and she began seeing less and less of Steve.

She thought it was just a summer fling, Billy didn’t seem like the type to stick around for very long, didn’t seem like the monogamous type.

Steve had a bad habit of trusting alphas too quickly, had been with alphas that just wanted to be able to say they’d fucked a male omega.

They were so uncommon, and usually these alphas were just curious, knew male omegas were the only presentation identifiable at birth due to their genitals, had wanted to see for themselves.

But Billy stuck around, starting hanging around Steve wherever he was, joining him when he spent time with the party, or with Jonathan and Nancy.

Billy was starting to grow on her more, as she watched and realized he loved Steve, that he wanted to be as clingy as Steve needed.

They would go on double dates sometimes, and Billy would pull Steve to sit on his lap just as often as Steve would plop himself on Billy’s lap. So she guesses they’re kind of a match made in heaven.

And then Steve got pregnant.

And she expected Billy to run for the hills, but he didn’t. Got kicked out of his house for Steve, changed his whole world for Steve and their pup, and at this point, they were four years in, had two happy pups and we in the process of moving into their first house.

She and Jon hadn’t even talked marriage yet, let alone bonding, were focusing on getting through school.

They had both gone to New York without even consulting one another, decided they didn’t want each other’s college choices to affect the other, that they should pick the best school for themselves.

When they revealed to one another, Jon showed her his acceptance to NYU, his dream school, while Nancy had handed him her Columbia letter.

She got regular updates from Steve, letters stuffed full with photographs and weekly reports. She contacted a bakery local to him to send him a cake when he called and excitedly told her that he had finally gotten his GED, had dropped out of high school in the February of his senior year when he got kicked out of his house, when he was the talk of the whole damn town.

“Letter from Steve.” Jonathan placed the rest of the mail on the counter, ripping open the envelope. “He put in updated pictures of the girls, look.” Nancy cooed over the photos. There was a gorgeous one of all four of them at the beach, Steve had infant Zara strapped to his chest, Billy was holding Mina. It was so cute. “He said they finished painting the house and should be moving in this week.”

“He mention how he was doing?”

“Of course not, have you met him? The only reason we actually knew he almost fucking died was because Billy called us.”

“I guess you’re right.” She was still flipping through photos. “Oh look at this one!” It was Steve caught mid laugh while Mina was doing him hair behind him. “We should go out to California soon to see them. Especially once they’re in their house.

“I’m gonna write Steve back, maybe we could go for New Year’s, or something.” She smiled up at him, stretching on her toes to kiss his jaw.

“I think that sounds nice.”

Mina was currently in the process of showing Jonathan every single toy she owned.

His lap was full of plastic food, blocks, dolls, stuffed animals, books, everything. She was talking excitedly about her little toy Camaro, the one that looked just like Daddy’s!

Nancy was just laughing as Jonathan nodded along patiently. He talked to her like she was an adult, asking her details about each toy in a very serious voice.

Steve slowly set himself on the couch. His abdomen still sore from surgery a few months ago. He was holding Zara, all dressed up in a little onesie that looked hand-knitted.

“How are you doing?” Steve rolled his eyes. Jon and Nancy kept asking.

“Nance, I’m fine. Just sore is all.” He kept dodging her real questions. She knew that the doctor had told Steve there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to be pregnant again, knew it was probably weighing on him. She just looked back and Jon.

“How is Mina doing with Zara? I remember when Mike was born I wanted nothing to do with him.” Steve laughed, bouncing Zara a little.

“She loves her. I swear if she could get me and Billy outta the picture, she would rather raise Zara on her own.” Zara gave a little choked off wail. “Sweet Pea, you are fine.” He put her on his chest, patting her back. “How’s school and everything?”

“It’s good! Jon’s going to end up graduating a semester early, so he’ll be finished by this time next year.”

“Oh, wow. Good for him!”

“I hear you left work, how’s that going?” Steve shrugged.

“They could only offer me one month of leave, and with the surgery and everything, I needed much longer. But you know I don’t mind staying home with these two. I mean, Mina’s in full day preschool now, just Monday to Thursday, but Zara is pretty fussy, so it’s okay. Once she’s not breastfeeding anymore, I’ll probably find a new job.”

“And Billy’s school is going okay?”

“Oh you know him, just overachieving at every stage. He had to cut back on his hours at the garage, he got a really nice internship at a law firm in town, and he’s actually getting paid for it.” Billy had been studying pre-law at UCSD, wanted to go into some kind of prosecution, possibly specialize in domestic cases. His internship was more personal assistant work to one of the partners of the firm, but it was better money than the garage, and something to beef up his resume a bit more.

Steve could hear the garage door beginning to rumble and whine as it slid up.

“Speak of the devil.” He smiled at Billy as he came in, kicking off his shoes. Mina sprinted up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, standing on his feet as he walked over to everyone.

“You talkin’ ‘bout me, Pretty Boy?” He picked up Mina so he could perch on the armrest next to Steve, giving him a kiss.

“All good things. Kind of.” Nancy doesn’t think she’s ever seen Billy Hargrove in a suit. He loosened his tie, had take off his jacket to place into the coats closet, was currently rolling up his crisp sleeves. She could see edges of a few tattoos. She knew he and Steve had each gotten each others initials on their shoulder blades, adding the pups initials underneath them both. Apparently Billy was beginning to work on sleeves. “How was work?”

“Eh. Same old.” He shrugged, putting Mina down to go back to “playing” with Jonathan. He lifted Zara from Steve. “How are you doin’, Nancy? How’s the Big Apple?”

She waved a hand non-noncommittally. “Oh, it’s good. Jon’s working for some underground paper, shooting for punk shows.” Billy grinned.

“Well done, Byers. I’m sure your kid brother’s plenty jealous.” Jonathan laughed.

“He’s come up for a few of the shows he’s really wanted to see. Which is to say most of them.” The timer went off from the kitchen. Steve went to stand, only to have Billy push him back down, handing Zara back to him.

“Sit tight, Pretty Boy. I got it.” Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled softly at Billy all the same.

“He was a nightmare when we were moving in, wouldn’t let me lift anything over ten pounds.”

After dinner, Steve and Billy tag teamed putting the girls to bed.

It was kind of amazing to watch. Billy got Mina dressed for bed as Steve fed Zara, then they swapped, Steve made sure Mina brushed her teeth while Billy changed Zara, swapping again so that Billy could read a book to Mina and Steve rocked Zara to sleep.

They were so practiced and efficient, both girls were asleep with half an hour.

“You get a lot of practice with the bedtime thing. I mean, it’s every night.” They were sitting on the back porch, on patio furniture that had apparently been a gift from Claudia Henderson.

It was a perfect night, the Southern California air was just chilly enough to warrant a sweater, but perfect for just being in.

“There’s a park a few blocks that way that’s doing fireworks, we should be able to see them from here.” Steve had poured them each some champagne. Steve and Billy were sitting one the chairs across the little coffee table between them.

They chattered through as the clock ticked down, getting closer and closer to 1989.

Ten seconds to midnight, Billy helped Steve stand up. Five seconds to midnight, Jonathan was digging in his pocket.

The fireworks began as Steve pressed his lips to Billy’s. Nancy turned to do the same, choking on a gasp as she saw Jon down on one knee. Steve shrieked, scrambling for a camera.

“I wanted this to be the first thing I did this year.” Billy was grinning like an idiot, Steve was taking picture after picture, his big eyes full of tears. “I know you want to establish our lives before bonding or having pups, and that’s okay, we can just be engaged for a couple years, whatever you want.” Nancy had one hand in front of her mouth, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Whatdya say?”

“Oh my god, absolutely yes!” Billy and Steve cheered as Jon stood up, kissing Nancy before sliding the ring on her finger.

#yikes writes #mango #me before this part: I have never heard of the Wheeler family ever in my life #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove abo #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #omega steve harrington #alpha billy hargrove #mpreg

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Text

Taste of Home (Indruck)

Prompt for the 13th was: strange harvest

Most days, Duck isn’t too worried about the dirt on his hands or the bits of leaves that stick to his clothes. Most days, he’s not about to meet with a reclusive, wealthy donor to the Kepler Botanical Gardens who has specifically requested Duck be present.

When he enters the meeting room, Thacker is waiting for him along with a tall, pale-haired man sporting red glasses.

“Ah, here’s Duck now.” Thacker smiles.

“Sorry, uh, thought we weren’t meeting until-”

“-One. You’re correct, I have a habit of getting a bit, ah, ahead of things t times.” The man offers a wide smile that’s polite but also gives Duck the heebie-jeebies.

“Duck, this here is Mr. Cold. He’s one of the garden’s longest standin supporters. He’s got a project for us, and asked that you be the one in charge of it.”

“I was quite impressed with your work on the native plant section, and I’m told you headed the transplant and maintenance of the tree specimens in the New Zealand section, which is no mean feat.”

“Thanks, I’m real proud of both. What do you have in mind? Is it an exhibit?”

“A private collection. Come, let me show you.” Mr. Cold unrolls a set of plans as Duck shoots a glance at Thacker.

“Didn’t know we did that sort thing.”

“We do for Mr.Cold. Whelp, I gotta go lead a tour. Mr. Cold, I leave you in Duck’s capable hands.”

He joins the taller man in front of the plans; they’re for a garden within a greenhouse, the structure as angular and distinct as the man requesting it. He knows the greenhouse hs Cold’s name above it, is usually used as a teaching space

“I imagine you think me rather selfish for requesting to use your space in such a way.” Mr. Cold doesn’t look up from where he’s making final notes on the paper, as if the answer is a foregone conclusion.

“Think it’s kinda strange, but I ain’t about to rule on it bein selfish until you tell me what I’m actually doin.”

“I have several species of trees, flowers, and shrubs that I need grown. They are, ah, rather difficult to cultivate anywhere other than their native home, and I am not a skilled gardener at the best of times. Hence my seeking out someone who, I presume, has not killed multiple succulents in the last two months.” The man looks a little ashamed, then clears his throat, “the plants I am asking you to grow are the only specimens of their kind on earth.”

“How’d you get them, then?” Duck tries to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but this feels more and more like some rich guy made an impulse purchase of something that should be in a seed bank or species ark somewhere.

“I brought small specimens over from my home, which is where they grow. But I couldn’t keep them alive, and they were already rare. Last I heard they were all wiped out by an, ah, an illness. I stored seeds from my specimens in hopes of one day regrowing them.”

Duck looks at the diagram closely; the plant’s are actually sketched in, not just noted by name and the number of eraser marks suggest Mr. Cold spent a long time planning out exactly where each one went.

“You’re askin us to do all this because you’re homesick?”

“Yes. I have been away from home for a long, long time. The Kepler gardens have been a refuge for me. Lately I’ve been drawn to the woodland and prairie type sections.”

“I helped with a lot of those.”

Mr. Cold turns to him with a smile, “I know. That is another reason I requested you. But, before we go any further, I must make something clear; these specimens they mean...they are so, so precious to me. And secrecy is a must, for reasons I can only half explain. They would be solely under your care and protection. If that is not a responsibility you wish to take, I understand entirely.”

Behind the red glasses, Duck can just see a glint of hope.

“Think I’m up to the challenge.”

“Wonderful” Mr. Cold claps his hands together, “in that case, there is not a moment to lose. Here, this is everything you need.” He produces a briefcase, inside which sits ten packets of seeds and three pits, bout the size of an avocado pit.”

“All the information I have on ideal growing conditions is in the attached notebook, and the seeds are labeled. If you have any questions, ny at all, my phone number is in there s well.”

He pauses, smiles, and murmurs to himself, “it's been awhile since I gave anyone my phone number.”

Duck opts to ignore the stealthy glance at his arms and carefully takes the case, “Thanks, this’ll all be real helpful.

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

He doesn’t see his new patron (as Juno calls Mr. Cold) for a week. When he does, he’s on his belly, checking for any sign of sprouts in the greenhouse.

“How goes the growing?” Mr. Cold asks from the direction of Duck’s feet.

The gardener rolls over and sits up, “Not much to report, just trying to keep an eye on ‘em so I don’t miss anythin important.”

Mr. Cold offers his hand, helping Duck up, “I appreciate the care you’re taking, Duck. I hope it isn’t cutting into your other work too badly.”

“Had to move somethings around, but that's just the nature of this kind of work.”

Mr. Cold chuckles, “Pun intended?”

“Uh, I guess.”

“Oh. Your, h, your lunch time is coming up right? I was wondering if you would let me take you to lunch as an, ah, extra thank you?” He’s spinning a small ring on his finger, the shyness almost charming, and Duck felt neutral at best about the sandwich he brought today.

“Sure, thanks.”

Mr. Cold grins, “Oh good. Where would you like to go? I hear the crystal palace has a lovely lunch.”

“The fancy Japanese place? Pretty sure they got a dress code.”

“Brush off the dirt and you look completely respectable.”

Duck raises an eyebrow, “I was talkin about you.”

They both stare down at the classy but still very clear pajama pants Mr. Cold is wearing.

“Fair point. How do you feel about Indian food?”

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

Duck’s stepped into some sort of painting. And here he thought he was just wandering into the birch grove.

Indrid (“”I really prefer that name”) is laying on his back on a bench. Sun streams between the branches, falling across his face, making it all angle and shadow in ways Duck wants to sit and study. His silver hair is ruffling in the breeze, and his glasses are pushed up his forehead. Eyes shut and hands folded on his stomach, he reminds Duck of the paintings in fairytales of someone waiting for true loves kiss.

He’s worried he might be the one to give it.

They’re having lunch once a week at least now, the awkwardness of the first time melting away as Duck got going on a tangent about dandelions only to find Indrid, elbows on the table and chin in his hands, listening to him so intently he blushed on reflex. Then he was giggling as Indrid pulled a custom-made curly straw out of a small tin in order to drink his Mango lassi. And then Indrid had laughed at his laugh and it all fell into place, the conversation so easy it’s as if they’d know each other for years.

Then there were the frequent visits by Indrid to the greenhouse to check on the progress. Which, if Duck does say so himself, if pretty fucking good. The plants are thriving, reaching for the light, and the trees are already flowering in deep blue stars, the speed with which they reached adulthood fascinating to him. Sometimes Indrid just comes to see the gardens, but always seeks Duck out to say hello and smile that increasingly charming smile at him.

But the biggest change has come with Indrid asking if Duck would be interested in designing a small garden for him

“Something very simple and manageable. Hardy too.”

“Any plant preferences?”

“No, I trust your judgement entirely, though you may have to help me with their maintenance the first few weeks, if that is alright.”

Duck would have done it even if Indrid wasn't paying him. He liked sitting in the living room, surrounded by strange art and crumpled papers, showing Indrid how to tend houseplants. And when they sit on the back porch, each dirt-smudged and grass stained, Indrid sipping soda while Duck nursed a single beer, the other man kept beaming at the new, small patch of garden, Duck’s heart wanted to burst from his chest and flutter around.

Last night, he stayed late for dinner, and as he was checking over the houseplants…

“I’m fond of this one. It’s sturdy and makes me smile, much like you.” Indrid murmurs as he steps beside him.

Duck slides a smile his way “Dunno, partial to this snake plant we chose; unique and kinda tall, just like you.”

It’s the worlds weakest flirtation, but as Indrid steps away his fingers tease Duck’s lower back, “I wonder if they can cross-pollinate.”

All of this is why Duck decides to leave Indrid be. Because playing prince charming to one of the gardens donors could backfire and shatter his whole career if he reads things wrong.

The path takes him past Indrid, and he steps lightly. But just as he passes Indrid's head, cool fingers find his own.

“How is my favorite flora expert today?” Indrid purrs, eyes still shut.

“Good. Uh. Yeah, good. How’d you know-”

“It was you? I have my ways.” Indrid grins, squeezing his hand once before letting go, “are we still on for lunch tomorrow? I can bring you that soup you like.”

“That’d be great.” Duck hesitates, reaches down and ruffles Indrid’s hair. The other man sighs, rubs his face against Ducks palm.

“I can't wait.”

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

It takes him until ten pm to remember he left his phone in the greenhouse. Which would not be a problem, except he’s supposed to take a call early tomorrow from Jane, the first time in months they’ve been able to talk.

Plus, he’s been having an excellent text conversation with Indrid until his last rounds, sending him pictures of the plants in the greenhouse, which all look ready to bloom in the next day, and the strange fruit on the trees; speckled gold and white, and smelling faintly of marshmallow. Indrid’s reply texts were filled with excitement (and a great deal of praise, which Duck is thoroughly enjoying). He wants to keep that going as soon as he can.

He finds his phone on the workbench, looks up just in time to see glowing red eyes reflected in the glass.

Something’s in the greenhouse with him. Which should be impossible, because only two people have the keys.

Turning, he scans the plants and spots a large, dark shape holding very still behind the trees. Which would work better if said trees were not so thin.

“I am aware this is not a good hiding place.”

Duck gasps, not expecting it to talk, then steps back when the creature emerges. It towers over him, antennae twitching and wings rustling slightly. His mind puts all the pieces together, and he understands only half of them.

“Why the fuck is the mothman breakin into my greenhouse.”

The antenna flatten slightly, “I am not breaking in. Do you see any broken glass?”

“No, but I got one key, and the only other person with one ain’t here. And put those down, they ain’t yours.” Duck reaches for the two fruits, each clasped between a pair of clawed hands, only for Mothman to raise his arms.

“They are, in fact, mine. If you would stop trying to knock me over I can explain.”

“Uh uh, first you gotta put down Indrid’s things, then you can explain.”

The creature chirrs, annoyed, and points at its neck, “His things? Such as this key perhaps?”

Duck stops moving, staring at the key before rising his gaze to the mothmans face and meeting his eyes for the first time.

“What the fuck? Indrid, what the fuck?”

A sheepish chirp, “There was not a good way to tell you I am a famous cryptid. At least, I did not feel there was one. I was worried you would be afraid of me if you knew.”

“Feelin a little too confused to be afraid. Did, did I just grow a mothman garden instead of a butterfly garden?”

The laugh is unmistakably Indrid, “In a way. I was telling the truth when I said these were from my home, but my need for them went beyond homesickness. Every twenty five years, my kind are compelled to eat these. It is not fatal if we don’t, but we suffer a very unpleasant illness for several weeks if we do not. I resigned myself to that sickness until I began visiting these gardens, and saw there were people who might be able to help me. My own powers, including foresight, cannot replace a green thumb. Your green thumb went beyond anything I could ever have hoped for. This” he gestures to the trees with their glittering fruit, the flowers blooming in a rainbow of glowing star-shapes, “Duck I, I haven't seen a sight like this in close to a hundred years.”

Duck holds his breath as Indrid steps towards him, bending to rest his downy forehead against Ducks.

“Thank you, Duck Newton. Thank you for giving me a taste of home.”

The human reaches up to touch a black, fuzzy cheek, “Does this mean you gotta leave or somethin, now that I know your secret identity?”

“Not unless you are planning to tell everyone you’ve been acting as the Mothman’s personal gardener.”

“Nah, rather tell ‘em about the cute fella I’m takin to dinner tomorrow.”

Indrid blinks, “You...you do not find this alarming?”

“I mean, you’re big and a little terrifyin, but you’re still Indrid. And it means a lot that you actually stayed and told me who you were, instead of just flyin off.”

There’s a deep purr as Indrid says, “In that case, may I invite you to dinner at my house, Duck Newton? I can even share some of this strange harvest with you.”

Duck grins, drawing his fingers long Indrids arm, “That your way of tellin me they’re an aphrodisiac?”

Indrid nuzzles his cheek and pulls him close, “I guess we’ll find out.”

#indruck #promptober #indrid cold/duck newton #awkward flirting

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musicnoots · 5 years ago

Text

Another Cinderella Story

Babe Heffron/Reader

Prompt “Oh my God, I'm in love with an adult man-child” requested by anon

A/N: 🌼BABE CUTENESS🌼

Synopsis: The quest for a missing shoe at one in the morning.

Tags: @gottapenny @dustyjjumpwings @wexhappyxfew @medievalfangirl @bandofmarvels @those-dusty-jump-wings @curraheev @junojelli @majwinters @david-weepster @evelyn-shelby @those-dusty-jump-wings @floydtab @rayleighshughes @alienoresimagines @yeahcurrahee @not-john-watsons-blog @inglourious-imagines @meteora-fc

“Psst, Y/N,” he whisper-yells. He’s trying his very best not to rudely wake you up, rather, politely wake you up in the middle of the night. “Y/N?”

Babe can’t find the pair of his shoes. His favorite pair of shoes. The ones his Ma gave him for his eighteenth birthday—the brown oxfords that he’d been laying his eyes on at the store weeks before all those years ago.

He’s all but turned the entire house upside down looking for them.

The shoe rack is in disarray, your shared closet that was once neat and tidy is now messy and won’t close shut thanks to your boyfriend and his midnight antics. Babe had also gone rummaging through the kitchen cabinet, as if the missing shoe would magically appear in between the bread and jam.

“Hello?” he shakes your shoulder this time, and that’s enough to wake you up from your deep sleep, dazed and confused as to who’s talking to you right now. “Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

“Babe?”

You yawn, your hand drifts to touch his cheek—truth be told, you hadn’t noticed that he’d slipped out of bed.

You swear your person was in bed snuggling with you ten seconds ago! His head tucked under your armpit, his lips attached to the underside of your breast, and his hand resting on the curve of your waist all while hogging all the blankets from you (he doesn’t mean it, though), you hadn’t noticed until he wakes you up while on a scavenger hunt for God knows what at this hour.

“Baby, have you seen the other pair of my shoes?” He holds the shoe up. “My favorite ones. I’ve been lookin’ all ova’ the goddamn place for ‘em!”

You almost let it slide past you. Luckily, you’d recovered from your muddled state to snag a peak at the clock on the nightstand. It’s well past midnight. “W—“

“Looked in the closet, looked in the living room, I even looked in the damn cabinet! S’like it just grew legs of its own and walked straight out the door! What do I gotta do to find the missing pair?”

“Why are you looking for your shoe in the middle of the night?”

He sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m goin’ to Bill’s place! Now, Y/N, can you please help me find my goddamn shoe?”

You blink. Bill’s place? You know the two are the bestest of friends, but you’re not too sure if that includes Babe randomly waking up at half past one to hang out. “Why are you going to Bill’s? It’s one in the morning?”

“I want ‘im to make a grilled cheese for me,” he says, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

Really? Grilled cheese? At one in the morning?

“You want to go to Bill’s house...because you want him to make you...a grilled cheese…”

Part of you knows not to question why your favorite gentle ginger woke up in the middle of the night suddenly wanting a grilled cheese sandwich—a few months ago, he woke you up at 4 in the morning asking for you to bake him a few cupcakes that he ended up helping decorate with vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles.

But Babe thinks, as if you didn’t already love him, that he shouldn’t bother you again at this ungodly hour.

“Yes! But my shoe, Y/N!” he whines. “I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for it! Looked in the closet, looked in the pantry, looked in the fridge—I swear if I lost it for good, I’m gonna be so fuckin’ sad. My Ma gave it to me for my birthday a couple years ago!” He sighs and buries his face into his hands. “Goddamnit, I just wanted a grilled cheese and now I’m pissed off because I can’t find the other pair of my favorite shoes!”

“Babe—”you sit up in bed and put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, “if you wanted a grilled cheese this bad, then you could have made one yourself, we have the things to make it.”

“No…”

“No?”

He pouts. “It’s not as good as yours.”

Him saying that automatically warms up your heart.

You love him, damnit. You didn’t say no then, so there’s no way you wouldn’t get up and make your wonderful boyfriend the greatest grilled cheese to have ever graced this Earth. “Alright,” you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand up, “let’s go make you that grilled cheese. C’mon, baby.”

His eyes light up in joy. “Really?” he says as you tug on his hand to follow. “But can we still look for my shoe? After I eat the grilled cheese, I mean. I’m gonna be so sad if I never find ‘em! My Ma would never forgive me!”

“Babe, you’re alright, and besides, I think Mango probably hid it somewhere to sit in it without having to deal with you trying to cuddle with her.”

He nods. Mango is a pretty smart cat, and judging from the countless times she’s stolen both of your shoes to sit in, it’s more than likely that she’s abducted Babe’s favorite shoe. “I can’t help it! Mango’s just so squishy, and she’s an awesome cuddle buddy whenever you’re not home to give me the lovin’ I deserve.”

“I’m starting to think you love Mango more than me.”

“No!” Babe wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder as the both of you waddle out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, ready to make that wretched grilled cheese he made all the ruckus about this morning. “I love you,” he peppers your neck with kisses, “from my butt to the top of my head. I love Mango, too, but she probably took my shoe so I’m kind of eh about her now. And I know you’re gonna love the way I decorated the kitchen...”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, coming to see how much of a mess he actually made. It’s nice to see that he tried to clean up for your sake, but the open cookie jar sitting on the counter is enough to make you realize how Babe has cemented his presence into your everyday life. “I’m in love with an adult man-child.”

He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. “Yeah, but I’m your adult man-child.”

#babe loves u and mango #and grilled cheese #babe heffron #band of brothers #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers fanfic #hbo war #easy company #babe heffron x reader #edward heffron

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queenbirbs · 4 years ago

Text

the way home | Ch. 6 | Edward x MC

Pairing: Edward Mortemer x MC

Word count: 4,175

Warnings: language, N*FW

Read from the beginning or continue on

Read on AO3

Tag list: @writinghereandthere | @not-sewell

------

Two days later, the brigantine they found passage on arrives in Santo Domingo’s port.

In the grand scheme of things -- that being the two years she spent hunting down a permanent trip back to the past, and the several weeks she’s spent since then hunting down Edward himself-- it isn’t that much time. Elena’s heart still races, though, when she sees the familiar form of Salacia’s Fortune in the harbor.

“I’ll collect yer bag and bring it aboard before I leave,” Robert tells her as they make their way down the port where Edward’s ship awaits. “We can say our farewells then, and you can thank me for saving yer sorry arse again and again.”

Elena snorts, prompting a chuckle out of him.

“Please, as if.”

“I may not have always shown it, but I did come to value yer friendship.”

“Even when I kicked your ass and stole your sword?”

“Ah, but we weren’t friends then, were we?” he points out. “Besides, we both know now that I was just going easy on ye.”

“Oh, were you?”

The gangplank jostles under their weight; Elena ignores Robert’s warning to be careful as she races up to the ship’s deck. It’s nearly empty, save for three pirates who turn to frighten off the unwelcome strangers on their boat.

“Oi, who in the devil’s blaze--” one of them starts to shout before they’re silenced by a squeal.

“Elena!” Ginny shrieks, racing across the deck and plowing into her. Elena wraps her arms around the girl and hugs her tight. “We missed you so, so much.”

“I missed you, too.” Elena pulls back to study the girl. “Oh my god, Ginny, you’re so tall. How did you get so tall?”

“Being sixteen helps, I guess,” she grins.

Elena’s thoughts screech to a halt. “Sixteen? But -- wait, how long was I gone?”

“It’ll be six years next month. But we never gave up on you! Captain always told us to keep believing that you would come back.” Ginny looks up at her with those bright brown eyes of hers. “And you did, see?”

“Yeah,” Elena agrees, her voice breaking upon the word. “I did.”

Time worked differently in the future, that she always knew. But the last time she’d come back, she never learned what year it was before being dragged back to the future. Knowing that almost six years had passed since Edward last saw her made his reaction in the governor’s mansion a little more understandable.

“Captain’s out looking for you right now, actually, but he should be back soon. I told him to stay on the ship, that you would head here first obviously,” Ginny stresses the word and rolls her eyes, “but you know how he is.”

Robert sighs from beside them. “Aye, we know. I’ve business to attend to in town, but if I see him, I’ll herd him yer way, Elena.”

“Thank you,” she tells him, trying to convey as much of her gratitude into the two words as she can. “And good luck with your own search.”

The beginnings of a genuine smile flicker onto Robert’s face before he clears his throat, nodding at her once before disappearing back down the gangplank. Ginny wraps her hand around her arm and tugs.

“C’mon. You can meet the rest of the crew while we wait for the others to return.”

As much as she wants to run into town and hunt him down herself, Elena realizes that staying in one place in a town this large makes the most sense. She lets Ginny lead her over to the other two pirates, one of whom introduces herself as Ginny’s girlfriend, Lottie. They barrage her with questions about the future, most of which she skirts around answering -- she’s already caused enough trouble with the space-time continuum as it is. By the time the rest of the crew arrive, the sun has begun its descent. They take turns sweeping Elena into their sweaty, rum-scented hugs and their good-natured bickering.

“The Cap’n’ll be sorry that we beat him to ye,” Maggie says.

“Glad to have ye back, Elena.” Henry claps a hand on her shoulder and squeezes tight. “None of these swabs give my cookin’ a fair chance.”

“He once scraped barnacles off the hull and fried ‘em!” Kendrick exclaims.

From her perch atop the railing, Ginny gags. “He called them a ‘Caribbean delicacy’.”

“The only thing delicate ‘round here is yer stomachs.”

“They don’t have the experienced palette that I do,” Elena points out.

“I dunno, I don’t think even you could’ve--” Ginny pauses, her long braids swinging as she jerks back around to scan below. “Oi! Captain’s back!”

Elena races to the railing and grips it tight, nearly throwing herself overboard in her attempt to catch sight of him. Even in the dimming light, she picks Edward out of the crowd with ease. He’s distracted, moving steadily along the wharf and scouring the throngs of people. Too busy looking for her that he doesn’t see her aboard his ship. She calls his name, once, then again, before his head finally snaps up.

He stumbles to a halt in the middle of the market. A woman runs into him, chastising him in a rapid burst of Spanish. He ignores the woman, sheer elation spreading across his face. His grin is almost blinding in the low light.

“Elena!”

Shouting her name seems to kickstart him. The sack of food in his hand drops to the ground, forgotten; mangoes and bread loaves scatter across the planks. He darts through the crowd, dodging shoppers and vendors with ease before leaping up onto the gangplank. He reaches the top just as Elena does and swings her up into his arms, crushing her against him.

“You’re here,” he exhales.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I would be gone for so--”

He silences her with a kiss, and then with another when she tries again to apologize.

“Time matters not. If it had been a hundred more days or a hundred more years, I would have waited,” he assures her. “You’re here. That’s all that matters. You’re here.”

“You keep saying that.”

His breath escapes him in a soft chuckle, leaning into her touch as she cups his cheek. “I may keep doing so for the rest of my life.”

“Then I’ll be here to hear you.” At the naked hope in his gaze, she can’t help but tell him now. “We found a permanent way back. It’s what took me so long, searching for a way to stay.”

“Forever?” he repeats, the word tasting like ambrosia upon his lips.

“Yeah,” she chokes out. His thumb makes gentle sweeps along her forehead, brushing back the stray hairs there. “Forever.”

“Alright, you lovebirds.” Charlie climbs up onto the deck with a crate and sets it down with a rattle. “I say we all have a drink--”

“--or five!” Kendrick adds.

“--to celebrate our lass’s long-awaited return. What say you lot?”

The chorus of ayes echoes across the wharf. Edward drops his hold from her waist and reaches down for her hand, nodding his head towards the crew.

“Shall we?”

“Sure, why not.” She bumps their linked hands against him. “I’ve got time.”

The party continues long after the sun slinks away. Unmoored from its daytime hideaway, the moon drifts high into the sky, casting a brilliant glow across the ship as the crew celebrates. Elena’s feet hurt from taking a turn across the makeshift dance floor with each crew member. Some of the shanties she knows and some she doesn’t -- though, in her defense, they don’t seem to know them all that well, either, especially by the sixth bottle of rum.

“Ye’ve got to show us some future dances one of these days, ‘lena.”

She shakes her head at Henry’s request, side-stepping to avoid her feet being crushed again and giggling at the idea. “I’m not sure you guys would be able to handle my twenty-first century dancing.”

As if he can sense that she’s had her fill of Henry’s clumsy footwork, Edward appears beside her with an open palm.

“May I step in, Miss McTavish?”

Elena eagerly takes his hand. Henry does something resembling a curtsy and moves off to snatch up another partner. Stepping into the circle of his arms, she rests her head on Edward’s chest and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thanks for the rescue.”

Edward brushes his lips against her hair and hums. “I suppose I should be the one thanking you for rescuing us. Even if you sent me into a panic, retreating back into enemy territory like that.”

She wants to laugh at his worries, but the heartache in his tone tells her to recount her harrowing adventures another time. Instead, she gives a reassuring squeeze to their linked hands.

“I knew that you had the opportunity to escape,” she explains. “Even if it meant leaving me behind.”

His chest tightens underneath her.

“‘Tis not fair to use my own words against me like that.”

“Not fair to guilt me for saving your asses.”

“Hmm. Touché.” There is nothing but the drunken crooning of the crew and the distant lapping of waves for a moment, then: “It’s getting rather late. Should I show you to our cabin?”

“I’d like that.”

The interior is just as she remembers.

The same Persian rug, the same tidy stacks of books and papers atop the desk, the same pile of pillows that Edward insists on having but never bothers to put back on the bed. Returned to her by Robert during the party, her duffel bag sits on top of her trunk, still in her favorite spot under the window. Her pillow, embroidered with a rose when Kendrick wanted to show off his sewing skills, lays propped against the headboard. A small jar of seashells she collected from their previous travels is tucked away safely in the bookcase. A spare coat of hers hangs from the chair; she runs her fingers over it, tears springing to her eyes at the sight.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of stowing it away,” Edward says, closing the cabin door behind them.

“You kept it this way? For six years?”

“For five years, eleven months, and two days.” Elena covers her mouth and drags in an unsteady breath. He crosses the room and guides her into his arms. “I wasn’t lying, Elena, when I told you that I would wait for you. We weren’t sitting idle, of course. We sailed across the Atlantic, o’er to Portugal and made a few trips around the Mediterranean, but there was always a… pull to return here.”

“To home,” she finishes for him.

“Aye. I even sought the help of a mystic in Constantinople to try and reach you, but I was only able to catch a glimpse. You were surrounded by other pirates, on a half-formed ship. And there were all these strange lights.”

Elena squints at the necklace he wears in concentration, scanning through her memories, when the realization hits her.

“That’s… you were there. On the set, just before the compass took me here the first time.”

“Madam Fatima did say time was tricky,” he says, to which Elena acknowledges with a humorless chuckle. “Were you… earlier, were you speaking the truth? That you found a way to stay? I have always hoped to hear you say those words, but even… even if you cannot stay forever, I would never turn my back on this strange arrangement that time has gifted us. But I would like to prepare my heart, if I could.”

Taking his face between her hands, she tilts his head down so she can meet his gaze directly.

“This isn’t some temporary fix. I spent two years searching the world over for a permanent way back to you. And sure, I don’t have faith with most things in life. The one thing I do have faith in, though, is us.”

Edward lays his hand over hers and turns to press a kiss against her palm. Under the heavy lids of his eyes, she can see the faint glittering of tears. “In fact,” she continues, “I got you something from the future to prove it to you.”

“I don’t require any further proof than you here beside me.”

“Hush and let me give you my souvenir.” Elena crosses over to the duffel bag and unzips the interior pocket. She pulls a small leather box out and hands it to him. “Open it,” she prompts when he merely stares at the object.

The golden ring sits on a velvet perch, outshone only by the deep blue stone that rests in the center. “It’s lapis lazuli. It reminded me of our first time up in the crow’s nest together, on Poseidon’s Revenge. Standing up there with you, with that endless stretch of sea and sky. That was our first moment, and I wanted the ring I chose for you to embody that.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a secretive sort of smile. Before she can ask, though, he steps over to his desk. From the drawer, he pulls a wooden box out and hands it to her.

“I believe that we are bound by the tides of fate, for I purchased this for you, as well.”

“Okay, see, that’s not fair. I made a cheesy joke about souvenirs, and you come in with your Lord Byron line.”

His brow wrinkles in confusion. “Who?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says with a flap of her hand and opens the box. Nestled on a bed of silk, a ring gleams in the candlelight. Thin vines of gold twist up along the band to frame an opalescent stone. The multicolored flecks inside the stone glimmer as Edward plucks the ring from the box and reaches for her trembling hand.

“It is a moonstone. The merchant I bought it from said that it was to symbolize protection and to bring estranged lovers together.”

“It’s beautiful,” she tells him as he slides it onto her finger.

“Aye, almost as lovely as its wearer.”

“See, that’s the cheesy line I was waiting for,” Elena tells him with a soft giggle. He smiles and holds out his hand. The ring is a near-perfect size, she marvels as it works easily down his finger. “Pretty damn good for being several lifetimes away.”

“Five years, eleven months, and two days,” he repeats, his voice thick with the myriad of emotions that play across his face.

“I’m here.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him even closer and sets her lips on his once, then again, reassuring him each kiss. “You can stop counting.”

Her words strike a chord deep within; the taut lines of him seem to snap, his body colliding with hers as he backs her up against the wall. His touch is everywhere at once, clenching desperately around handfuls of her clothing and coaxing her free of the garments. Their kisses are frantic, heady things, deepening with the soft slide of his tongue against hers. Elena shoves off his coat and strips him of his belts, letting his sword clatter to the floor. The rest of his clothes join the pile at their feet. Edward wraps an arm around her back and hauls her even closer, grinning at her soft moan when her naked skin touches his.

“I have dreamt of this moment for many a night,” he admits, his stubble tickling as he nips along her bare shoulder, grasping and tugging her hair back when it blocks his path. “I had… had hoped to go slow with ye, lass.”

Elena hums at the hot feel of his hand skimming down her stomach and dragging across the soaked skin between her legs. Her head lolls back against the cabin wall. Not one to be idle, she glides her palm across the warm planes of his chest, leaving trails of heat in her wake. His hand becomes more determined, seeking out and rubbing the spot that makes her breath hitch in anticipation.

“That’s really sweet of you and all,” she chuckles. “But my dreams of this moment mostly included you fucking my brains out.”

A strangled laugh escapes him, his head shaking as he leans down for another kiss.

“Good to see that you haven’t lost that assertiveness.”

As if to prove it, Elena dances him backwards in a lazy sort of two-step until his knees hit the mattress. He loops an arm around her hips and tumbles down with her, smirking when she emits a little yelp of surprise. There, the warm length of his body slides along hers and a delicious wave of sensation follows. Her back arches towards the soft, wet heat of his lips as he worships the swell of her breasts. He traces the golden necklace she wears, curiosity lighting his dark eyes when he glances up at her. Elena gathers her hair and dips her head forward, letting him remove the whistle from around her neck. With great care, she takes it from him and lays it on the floor beside the bed. His mouth travels lower, lower, until her hands are scrambling across the blankets, her head twisting to the side as she gasps for him to keep going, for him to send her over the edge. Pleasure soaks into her like a warm bath, seeps deep into her skin and down into the marrow of her bones.

“Edward,” she murmurs, then repeats, as if seeking repentance for the sinful sensation of his mouth on her. “Please, I…” her begging is lost under a ragged whine as her release washes over her.

As her heartbeat settles, Edward returns to the circle of her embrace. He hums with content as she strokes the bare skin of his back. A rumble works through his chest at the sight of her beneath him.

“I have traveled the world over and have never found anything so exquisite as the taste of you.”

Elena settles back against the pillows and quirks her lips into a grin. “That’s high praise coming from someone who has Henry for a cook.” A giggle escapes her at his scoff.

“You just wait,” he taunts, “you’ll be crowned taste-tester again.”

“I lived off of gas station food for a long while there,” she shrugs. “I think I can handle it.”

Before he can ask about the foreign terminology -- she loves him, she really does, but that eager part of him to learn new things has to take a backseat to other enjoyment sometimes -- she winds both hands through his hair and hauls him down for a kiss. Hint taken, Edward’s lips return to hers with a fervor. She loses herself to his touch once more, answering in kind with her own when she reaches down to stroke him. With a growl, he pulls back to position himself between her legs. His fingers clamp around her hips as she makes aborted little thrusts against him, spurring him on.

“Elena,” he gasps as he sinks into her. He takes his sweet time letting her adjust to the feel of him, nibbling at the flushed skin of her throat and up to her earlobe. “Elena.”

“Yes,” she answers, cinching her legs tight around his waist. The sinful drag of him inside her is almost enough to throw her over the edge again. “Yes, god, Edward, I-- please, don’t--”

His lips crash down onto hers. His tongue swipes at her heavy bottom lip, lapping each praise from her mouth as he drives into her. Every sense is invaded by him -- his scent and his taste and his touch, until arousal clogs every synapse and every pore and the concept of spontaneous combustion tips closer to a theory for her.

One of his hands slips down to stroke her to the rhythm of his thrusts. She moans, her nails digging into the solid muscle along his arms.

“Elena, love,” he growls, his teeth scraping along her jaw as he speaks, “come for me.”

The first wave drags her under, a breaking wave of sensation cresting right on top of the last. She’s vaguely aware of her body going taut under his, of her toes curling against the slick skin of his thighs, of the beautiful sight of Edward tumbling over the edge with her. He pulls out and collapses next to her on the bed, holding her close as she settles against his chest. Elena stretches with a long groan, uncaring of the stupid, sated smile on her face.

“Did you put in a skylight?” she murmurs.

The hand tracing nonsensical patterns across her shoulder slows. “What?”

“I was… making a joke. About seeing stars.”

“Oh.” Elena looks up to meet his confused gaze, prompting them both to chuckle at the poor joke. “I have missed this,” he says. “Not just the sex, but this -- you, here by my side. Poseidon himself could promise me a better sight, and I would not believe him.”

A hum leaves her as she nestles closer into his warmth, her throat tightening around the thousand things she wants to tell him.

“Do you remember what you said to me, that first night?”

“Aye, I do.”

Elena presses a kiss to his chest, just above his heart.

“I think I’m ready for the rest of our story.”

------

Soft slivers of fuschia and lilac seep through the salt-streaked window. Fissures of vivid orange follow after as sunlight spills over the long line of the horizon. Elena watches the play of colors across Edward’s face, lax with sleep. Of the past two times she’d returned to his side, she’d been flung back to her century before the next dawn came. It’s no wonder, then, that his arm has stayed firmly wrapped around her throughout the night.

Gradually, he awakens; his arm flexes and his fingers clench and his eyes flutter open to search for her.

“Good morning,” he rumbles, his voice rough with sleep.

“Hi.” She leans up on her elbow and captures his lips with a kiss. “I’m glad you’re awake. I want to do something with you.”

“Really?” A lascivious grin spreads across his face. “Do tell.”

With a sigh, Elena swats at his chest and sits up. “C’mon, you rapscallion.”

They locate their clothes and get dressed. After several more kisses, she leads him out onto the deck. The endless expanse of the ocean greets them, her water almost as blue as the morning sky. Santo Domingo is but a faint scratch of land behind them. With most of the crew still sleeping in their quarters, the shadowed corner of the stern is all theirs. Stepping up to the railing, she pulls the necklace from her pocket.

“I noticed that last night. What is it?” he asks.

“It’s what I spent two years searching for.” She traces the initials on the whistle and looks up at him. “It’s my way back to my time. Before we found it, I’d almost given up. I was desperate enough to come back by another anomaly, just to have the chance to see you one last time.”

“One last…?” he trails off, reaching for her hand and taking it between both of his. “Elena?”

“You didn’t deserve to live like this, to wait on me to find my way back, to waste your time sailing the--”

“Listen good and well,” he demands, anger darkening his features just before he crushes her against him in a tight embrace. “Searching for you, waiting on you ‘twas never a waste. I love you, and I would’ve never given up on you. But I am damned glad that you’re here to stay now.” He pulls back enough to glance between the necklace and her. “What do you intend to do with it?”

“I’m returning it.”

Leaning up on her toes, she plants a quick kiss to his cheek before she stretches her arm out over the railing and lets go. The necklace shimmers as it falls, plummeting straight into the water below. A shuddering breath escapes them both as the whistle disappears beneath the waves.

“By the way,” Elena says after a quiet moment, “I love you, too.”

“Oh. Good.” With a smirk, he pulls her closer. “It would be rather awkward if you didn’t.” He leans down and captures the laughter from her lips.

“Oi!” Henry shouts from behind them. “Breakfast is ready!”

They pull away from each other, sharing a wordless conversation as he draws closer.

“We’ll be down in a moment, Henry!” Edward calls across the deck. “Captain McTavish and I will take watch and let the rest of the crew eat first.”

“Nay, it may’ve been a long while, but I’m not fallin’ for that one again! C’mon and get it while it’s hot.”

“He’ll just keep at it if we don’t come,” she mutters.

“Aye, lass, he will.”

“Alright.” A smile follows her long-suffering sigh. “Let’s go.”

Reaching down for her hand, Edward leads her across the deck and out into the morning sun.

#distant shores #edward x mc #edward mortemer #distant shores fic #f: the way home #Kaila writes things #this is the last official chapter and next is the epilogue and then it's done!

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cozywritings · 4 years ago

Text

Stitches ch8: To The Man Who Let Her Go

You were woken up by the sound of your door opening, someone was obviously trying to be quiet. Obviously it was Shawn, he’s the only one with a a spare key card. When you rolled over you heard a soft “shit”, as he feared being caught. You wanted to just sit up and have him cuddle into you, you could smell his cologne across the room, but you kept your eyes closed, letting him do whatever he was planning.

He rustled around for a few minutes, and you heard the sound of paper, you wanted so badly to see what he was doing but he was obviously trying to do something special. Finally you heard him move closer to you, his hands resting by your head while he sat next to you on the bed.

He pressed a soft kiss to your head before rubbing your side softly. “Hey there princess. Wanna wake up for me? I’ve got a surprise for you.” Opening your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile. There was your adorable boy, smiling down at you with a terrible case of bed head.

“I heard there was a surprise waiting for me.” You giggled, getting louder when he looked offended.

“You wouldn’t wake up for kisses but you’ll get up for gifts. I see how it is.” He crossed his arms and pouted as you laughed.

You sat up, pressing your lips to his shoulder. “You don’t wanna kiss me before I brush my teeth, that would be gross.” you mumbled against his skin.

He looked at you with the most fake serious face he could muster, “Of course I would. Come give your man some love.” You pulled back, watching him move to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his lap.

With your legs straddling his thighs, he hummed into the kiss, fingers tangling in the bottom of your hair. “Mhm good morning princess.” He hummed, lips kissing around your face.

“Good morning bub. You seem happy today.”

He nodded against your hair. “Gonna get to show off my girl tonight. I’ll have the most beautiful date with me. Of course I’m happy.”

A blush found its way across your face as he spoke. “So I thought that you could go shopping today and get a gorgeous dress for tonight. And then if you have time when you get done, we can lay out by the pool.”

You nodded, “That sounds amazing.” Already, you were mentally counting how much you could spend on a dress, and possibly new shoes with the savings from nannying over the summer.

“Perfect. Well you can’t go shopping without some reinforcements.” He smiled, motioning to your desk that had a large caramel macciato with what looked like extra caramel, some fruit, and what looked like an envelope. “I made sure the coffee was decaf because I know that caffeinated coffee makes you spaz out.” You got up quickly, padding over to take a giant sip.

“God I love you. What’s in here?” You asked, reaching for the envelope. He looked bright red, biting his lip as you opened it. Your eyes widened as you saw the money. “Sh- Shawn. There’s a lot of money in here. What…. what are you doing?”

He just blushed and smiled at you. “I wanted you to go get a dress for tonight, and whatever else you want. Think of it as a birthday gift.” He stood up and walked over to you.

“Shawn, my birthday was last month. You got me a bracelet and took me to dinner.” you looked at him in shock.

He smiled down at you and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Also, I know you are ready, and so I wanted it to be perfect. I’ve got us a room in the hotel that the dinner is held at, and there’s a bottle of champagne on ice that’ll be waiting for us.”

You just stared at him, unable to properly think. “Shawn that. Wow. I- I’m gonna go get Emily. We’ve gotta shop!” He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Can you have breakfast with your boyfriend first?” He asked, popping open the lid on the fruit container and you nodded, popping a strawberry into your mouth.

---

“Oh my god you two are finally ready!?” Emily squealed as you pulled into the outlet parking lot. “Yeah. I think I’ve been ready for a few weeks now, and Shawn’s got a whole evening planned and everything. So we have a….” you paused, finally actually counting the money in the envelope and choking on your strawberry mango smoothie. “A thousand dollar… um, budget for today. Good god Shawn.”

Emily coughed next to you “He works where, again? Where the fuck did he get that kind of money?” You just shrugged, not having an answer yourself.

“He didn’t say. Just told me to “go wild with my outfit and then some.” Stuffing the money back in your purse, the two of you hopped out of your little Versa, making your way to the first store.

“So what color dress are you thinking?? Or do you know?” She asked, tossing her empty smoothie cup into the trash before walking into the first shop.

Looking at a pale pink dress, you shrugged, “Maybe blue. But I’ll probably go with a black dress, unless something really speaks to me.” She nodded, flipping through dresses on a rack.“Now why would they use such an older dress in the window?” You mumbled to yourself as you noticed a dress that was at least two years old in the mannequin in the storefront.

“What was that?” An elderly lady in a navy suit asked.

She was obviously the manager, and you bit your lip, embarrassed she heard you. “I was just saying that you should change out the dress in the front, it’s an older style. Not many girls are wearing two piece dresses anymore. It’s all about the cutouts, deep V’s and thigh slits right now. Plus, it’s a pastel blue. You should really have a jewel toned dress up there.” She looked at you, both irritated and shocked at your brutally honest input.

“I- and how would you know that?” Her voice higher now that she was irritated at your call out.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s my job to know that.” You stated, looking over at Emily who was eyeing a dark green velvet dress. The woman just looked at you, then over at the window and grabbed a new dress off the rack and made her way over to the display.

“What about this one?” Emily asked, showing you a black dress that looked more like a bodysuit with a tulle skirt.

You absoltely loved it, “It’s gorgeous, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for the Med Department.” You laughed, taking note of how revealing the dress truely was. She nodded, placing it back on the rack and moving around the store.

It was just after noon when you stopped for lunch at a small shop, only ordering a small salad knowing you’d have a big dinner, you were getting a massage soon, and also, you still haven’t found a dress and didn’t want to be bloated. “There’s still one more dress shop I wanna try before I just go back for that blue one.” You said, tossing your salad container into the trash can.

Walking into the shop, you could just feel that you were going to find the dress. It just had to be in there. “Oh my god. Look at this!” Emily squealed, pulling out a black dress with a semi-deep V neck. “That’s… fucking perfect for you Oh my god.” You reached for the dress, running towards the dressing room.

“This is absolutely beautiful. I love this so much!” You smiled, looking on the mirror, you hadn’t shawn Emily yet. When you walked out, she had to cover her mouth to conceal her scream. “You have to get that one.” Was all she could say. That’s when you knew, you had to have it.

---

Now completely relaxed, and all the tension was out of your body, you and Emily made your way back to the dorm. “He’s going to completely lose his shit when he sees you in that dress. I wish I could see it.”

You looked over at her and smiled. “Thanks for coming with me today. It really means a lot, everything you’re doing for me. I really appreciate it Em.” She reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it as a silent acceptance. “So, anything new with the cute guy in your bio class?”

She shook her head. “While I’m bi. He’s fully gay. So there’s not a lot going on there.” You both laughed at the irony. “But that girl you mentioned to me, she’s really sweet and we are going to get some milkshakes tonight as a casual date!” You were glad to see her happy. Emily had basically become your best friend since that first day.

---

You checked your phone: 6:25. Shawn should be there to get you any minute, and you were practically shaking. You looked yourself over in the mirror one last time before putting on the dress. Your body was clad in a navy blue lace set, it was the last purchase of the day.

You smiled as you stepped into the dress, zipping up the side and slipping on your new heels. One last fluff of your hair, and there was a knock on the door. “Darling, are you ready? I’m too excited to see you.” You could hear the smile and nerves in his voice.

Without saying anything, you swung open the door. Shawn was standing there in a navy suit with black shoes, but when he saw you he practically fell to his knees. “Oh fuck. You… you’re so beautiful. I can’t even believe it.” Both of your cheeks turned a rosy pink at the statement. “Are you ready to go, my love? You don’t have a bag packed.” His eyebrows pulling together.

“Don’t need one.” You smiled, pecking his cheek as they turned a deeper pink. He blinked quickly before ushering you out to the car, taking a second to steal a few kisses before pulling out of the parking lot.

“Damn Mendes, when you said you were going to have the best date, you weren’t kidding!” Some guy with curly blonde hair announced, clapping Shawn on the back.

“I told you guys. My girl is better than your lack of dates or the fact that half of you brought friends.” You just watched as he shot a wink over at you. “Honey, this is Trevor. He was my roommate last year.” He smiled, placing a hand on your lower back.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Your voice loud due to the music playing.

Trevor smiled at you, “Glad to see you came. Curly boy over here was nervous after he forgot to tell you this was even happening.” You all laughed before taking seats at the table, looking around and trading glasses of wine to fit your preferences.

Dinner was absolutely amazing. You honestly could’ve eaten another plate if it wasn’t for your nerves. Dessert was a choice of chocolate cake and cheesecake, so you each got one and shared half. “You two are horribly cute.” Someone mumbled as you took the bite of cheesecake Shawn was holding out for you.

“Just in Love.” Shawn answered quietly and you scrunched your nose at him. The smile on his face was perfect.

You all talked for a while before they cleared out a few tables for some dancing room. The dance floor was mainly taken up by the professors and their spouses, but without fail, like the last banquet, Shawn held his hand out to you. “Would to care to dance with me, my love?” You ended your conversation about the latest season of Nailed It with Marie, Trevor’s sister, and stood up to join Shawn.

“You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, I can’t get over it. But don’t forget that when you’re ready, we’ve got a room waiting for us upstairs.” He reminded you as you walked onto the dance floor, surprising a few of the other couples with the fact that you two were going to dance.

“Bring her flowers on a weekday, run a bath just to let her know; just to let her know she means the world to me…”

The song hummed softly, it wasn’t much of a dancing song, but god was it perfect. Swaying softly to the beat, Shawn leaned down “... so tell me, how did I ever get so lucky…” he sang softly, making you blush. Be he kept humming into your ear “...your loss is mine to hold, so to the man who let her go, I’m thanking you the most..” his lips brushing below your ear.

It was a very romantic and intimate moment for the both of you.

You closed your eyes, feeling the way his lips lingered on your skin far too long for the public eye. “I love you.”

He smiled against your neck. “I love you too baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to go. This is all at your pace.” With that, he stood up straight again, blushing when you rested your head on his chest as the song changed to some country love ballad.

It was some hours later when you decided you were ready. Your feet were aching, and so was another body part of yours. “Hey there handsome.” You hummed, coming up next to Shawn who was having a drink at the bar, talking to some friends. “You wanna get out of here?” His eyes widened for a moment before he nodded, setting the half drank glass of whisky on the counter.

“Okay guys, I’ll talk to you later. We’re gonna head up to the room.” You watched as he waved goodbye to everyone, promising to catch up after Christmas break.

“I forgot Christmas break was next week. I didn’t make any plans because I’m not able to fly home.” You thought out loud.

“Don’t worry baby. We can figure something out.” He whispered, kissing the side on your head and walking you towards the doors of the ballroom.

As the two of you stepped into the elevator, Shawn’s lips were on your neck, sucking softly and mouthing the words “I love you” and “beautiful” against your skin until the elevator made a ding.

The two of you almost tripped over your own feet as you made your way to the room, Shawn fumbling for the key in his breast pocket. You had your arms wrapped around his waist as he pushed open the door, only to turn around and pick you up. You let out a giggle as he shut the door and placed you down onto the bed gently.

You couldn’t help the gasp that you let out when you looked around the room to see rose petals everywhere, some candles littering the vanity and the countertop in the bathroom. “Shawn this is-“ you looked up to see him grinning like an excited kid.

“I did good??” His cheeks a soft pink.

“You did amazing.” He relaxed, leaning down for a kiss.

He pulled back and looked at you, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed. “Would you like to join me in a bath?” You nodded, smiling up at this perfect man. Shawn reached behind you and unzipped your dress, eyes widening at the lingerie adorning your body when it slid to the ground. “Oh baby.” He whined, watching you bend to step out of the dress. “God you’re so perfect. I can’t even-“

Without warning you leaned up and pressed a wet kiss to his neck. “Shawn. Can the bath wait??” He nodded, fingers digging into your hips.

“If at any time you want me to stop, just tell me okay??” You mumbled an “okay” into his skin before you were laid down on the bed. Your mind already fixated on the heat between your thighs as Shawn slowly unbuttoned his shirt and let it slip to the floor. He was so perfect and you honestly didn’t know how you got him, but your thoughts were cut short when he undid his belt and slid the bottom half of his clothing onto the floor.

You giggled as he peeled off his socks, tripping over his own two feet and almost falling on top of you. “You’re still 100% sure??” He asked again.

You looked up at him with a sincere gaze, “I am. Shawn I love you and I trust you. Please.” He smiled, leaning down for a kiss that had you closing your eyes and moaning.

“I love you too.” He breathed out, fingers inching towards your panties. You nodded, wordlessly begging for him to take them off, and with one swift movement, they joined his clothes on the floor, the matching bra following quickly after.

Sure you’d seen each other naked before, but this was different. This meant more. This was a very different situation. Your back arched when he wrapped his lips around your nipple, his tongue rolling the bud around before switching to the other one. His hands were rubbing along your sides in a calming manner, slowly moving closer to your thighs. “Shawn. Please touch me.” He let out a low moan, pulling off your chest to lick a single stripe up your core.

You instantly arched off the mattress, your fingers gripping the sheets. Shawn smiled against your inner thigh before going back in, making sure to get you ready for the next action. “Shawn, baby I’m ready. Please.” It was a soft whimper, and he reached into the pocket of his slacks on the floor to pull out a condom. You watched through hooded eyes as he rolled it on, hissing at the friction.

Shawn smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before moving to hover over your body. “Are- are you sure you want to do this?” He asked again, fingers brushing your cheek gently. “More ready than I’ll ever be.” You nodded, closing your eyes when he leaned in for a kiss. “Here” He whispered, threading your fingers together and softly kissing you as he started to push into you.

You let out a soft whimper, the burn a little more than you were expecting. “You okay?” He asked softly, feeling you squeeze his hands.

“Mhm. Just hurts a little. It’s been a while since I’ve been intimate.” He captured your lips again, pushing more of himself into you and letting out a soft moan. You took a deep breath, looking up at Shawn, his head lowered and curls dangling in your face. “Shawn?” His head snapped up. “You can umm… you can keep going. I’ll be alright.”

His lip caught between his teeth, he bottomed out, a low mewl escaping his throat. “Oh fuck. You okay honey??” His eyes looking over your face for a sign.

“I’m okay. You can move. I promise I’m okay. Please move Shawn.” He smiled at you, a sweet, loving smile, before pulling out and snapping his hips forward gently. He started at a gentle pace, allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside you.

Eventually, you let go of his hands and rested your hands on his shoulders, clawing gently when he picked up the movements of his hips. You let out a loud moan, throwing your head back, asking for him to leave his mark. He caught on, sucking on your tender neck, and moaning against your skin when you moved your hips with his. “Shawn. Pl- please.” You whimpered, grabbing his hand and leading it to your clit.

He nodded, rubbing tight circles and sucking a nipple into his mouth. “Baby, I’m about to-“ you nodded, tugging on his curls and whimpering out a “me too”. His thrusts became erratic, your moans bouncing off the hotel walls as your stomach burned

“Shawn, I can’t- I’m gonna-“ but you didn’t get a chance to finish your warning. Your orgasm crashing down on you, you let out a small scream. Shawn letting go at the same time. A string of “I love you”s being mumbled between the two of you.

He rested his head on your chest, his curls a little damp, “You okay love? Did I hurt you? Are you alright?” His protectiveness coming out as he rubbed along your side, his head still resting on your chest.

You smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m perfect. You were perfect. I’ve never felt this safe in my life.” You felt him smile against your skin before he sat up.

“Are you too tired for that bath I promised you?” You shook your head and he laughed, helping you up.

Now sitting in a tub of bubbles, a glass of champagne on the tray, you closed your eyes. Shawn sat behind you, his thumbs rubbing along your neck to soothe you. “I love you so much.” He smiled, leaning forward to kiss the back of your neck. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t even care if I fail this Med program. As long as I have you.”

You let out a giggle as he spoke, “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know. It’s like- I don’t know. Like you complete me. But you’re definitely not going to fail out of this program” You laughed, curling back into him and letting him wrap his arms around you.

“You’re so perfect.” He whispered into your ear.

---

You woke up to someone knocking on the door, a muffled “room service” being said before Shawn moved from the bed to open the door. “You just stay here. Rest.” He smiled, dragging the cart into the room and tipping the boy at the door.

“I got you an omelette with lots of cheese and butter, like you like it, and some fruit.” He smiled, handing you your plate before grabbing his own plate of waffles and bacon. “Oh and there’s mimosas too.” He spoke over a mouth full of bacon. You giggled, handing him a glass and relaxing back into the pillows to eat. “How are you feeling today?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Sore, really tired. But I’m okay. Last night was, perfect, thank you.” Shawn placed his already empty plate on the cart and fed you a piece of fruit.

“I should be the one thanking you. You were the perfect date, and the best girlfriend anyone could’ve ever asked for.” You blushed, taking another sip before placing it all on the cart and settling back into bed, too full to eat anymore. Shawn yawned, nuzzling into your stomach that was covered in his button down from last night. “Wanna go back to sleep, but also wanna love on you.” He whined, kissing your belly button.

Playing with his hair, you smiled “How about you love on me until you fall asleep?” He looked at you like you had just given him the answer to life.

“That’s fucking perfect!”

---

Now back on campus, you felt almost sad. You wanted to spend the rest of eternity in that hotel room with Shawn, tangled in the sheets and stealing kisses.

There was a knock on your door before Emily walked in, a huge grin on her face. “Tell. Me. Everything.” She demanded, plopping down on your bed. So you did, you told her everything. From the reaction he gave when he saw you, to the sex, to the drive back that ended with a makeout session in his room before you made it back to your own. “That sounds so perfect! I’m so happy for you and he’s such a gentleman I fucking can’t handle it.” She squealed, hugging your fuzzy pink pillow. “But anyways. I came to ask what your plans for winter break were.” Her smile growing.

“Actually I don’t have any. I forgot it was even on Monday. So I’ll probably just stay here and binge watch Queer Eye or something. I was going to fly home and surprise my family but after the incident with my dumbass backing into that light post, my savings went towards that instead. Why?”

She have you a terrifying smirk. “Because I’m going to my parent’s cabin up north for Christmas and they said that I could bring anyone that wasn’t able to go home for the holidays. Woould you like to come?”

The idea was actually perfect. You could relax without having to spend a stupid amount of time on an empty campus watching Hallmark movies alone. “I’d love to go, actually. That sounds like the perfect Christmas break! Thank you so such Em.” You smiled, hugging her tightly.

Suddenly, the door opened. “Hey ladies, what’s so exciting?” Shawn asked, setting a large milkshake on your desk and placing a kiss to your temple.

Emily gave you a devious smile before looking up at Shawn. “I was just inviting your girlfriend and you on a couples trip to my ski cabin for Christmas.”

“Couples trip?” You both asked in unison.

“Yeah. So Shawn, you down for some snow action?” She asked, proud that her plan had worked and she’d conned the two of you into going.

He smiled, hugging you into his chest. “Fuck yeah I am!” He smiled, nuzzling into your hair. “Perfect! We leave tomorrow morning. So start packing.”

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes au #shawn smut #shawn au #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes fluff #college shawn #med student shawn #shawn writing #shawn fanfic #my fic #stitches

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

Text

FIC: A Pressing Engagement ch1 (Not baon AU)

Summary: Labeling things can be difficult, for everyone involved

Notes: Oh, I don't know, this sort of popped into my brain today and sometimes, I like to see the maybes and might haves.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Fluff and Angst, Dating, Developing Relationship, Humor

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It wasn’t a date, really. More like a standing lunch appointment where they met up wherever the local food trucks were congregating that day. Edge was a fussy bitch when it came to food, but what kind of monster (heh) would turn down fresh seafood po’ boys with truffle Parmesan fries? Not one that Stretch wanted to hang out with, for sure.

The trucks were always busy, Humans and Monsters lining up for tasty treats. Using Edge’s strategy of divide and conquer, they queued in separate lines, gathering up a collection of paper trays lined with greasy waxed paper and holding heavenly balls of deep-fried goodness, along with the less heavenly but still delicious vegan junk that Edge always wanted, under the theory that unhealthy plus good for you would sort of cancel each other out into balanced nutrition.

Look, if it got him food, Stretch was willing to bend science a little.

The park was crowded, any tables were already claimed, if not by people than by their possessions. By the time Stretch was juggling their po’ boys and fries, Edge was through the vegan line and sitting under a tree in the grass, their Buddha bowls and moussaka artfully arranged around him. The pastoral serenity of the scene contrasted in interesting ways to the leather-clad skeleton in the middle of it all and if Stretch didn’t know that Edge would object, loudly and strenuously, he would’ve taken a picture. Called it modern art, skeleton on a theme of lunch.

“hope you grabbed napkins,” Stretch said cheerfully, plopping down in the grass to lay out his own spread.

“I did not. I brought my own,” Edge said, because of course he did, every week. Linen napkins that they both spread over their laps as they shared out the goods and dug in. Strange how growing up in murder world made a guy into a terminal recycler, but Edge was a guy who understood living under strict limitations.

The first bite of his po’ boy made Stretch groan aloud, greedily chewing fried blobs of briny shrimp and oysters couched in a bed of crisp lettuce and tomato. Waterfall aside, there wasn’t much seafood in the Underground and Stretch got a serious appreciation for it once they hit the Aboveground. Edge liked surfing on the ocean more than eating what was swimming in it and even he was eating appreciatively.

It was all good, tasty food, sunny day, perfectly awesome even if it wasn’t actually a date, and if it ended with them heading back to one of their places for some rough and rowdy bootknockin’, eh, well, that was kinda how Stretch liked it. They didn’t need it to be an official date, seriously, that was for people who just started going out, not for guys who’d been together for a few years. Once you’d shared a toothbrush, you didn’t need that kind of shit, right, and Stretch was pretty sure Edge’d forgiven him for that, he’d only done it the once and only because he couldn’t get the taste of garlic off his teeth. That was the last time he tried aioli on their not-dates.

Dessert was rice pudding with fresh mango and around a spoonful of creamy deliciousness Stretch mumbled out, “so, how about undyne and alphys finally tying the knot, huh?”

“Ridiculous,” Edge scoffed.

“right? i always figured them for getting married two weeks after their first date, took ‘em long enough—” Stretch trailed off as Edge scoffed again, louder and with some dangerous spoon waving to go with it.

“Marriage is a ridiculous institution,” Edge said irritably. “If you need to be married in order to feel as though you’re committed to one another, then the relationship is already doomed to failure. But then, most supposedly committed relationships are.” He took a fierce bite of his pudding, teeth closing dangerously around the poor, abused spoon. “That’s why I prefer what we have. No ties, no strings, you live in your apartment and I share my house with my brother. It works for both of us and we don’t need any absurd social constructs to determine what we are for each other.”

It took a minute for Stretch to realize Edge was looking at him expectantly, “yeah,” he said belatedly, rolling his shoulders laconically before leaning against the rough trunk of the tree shading them, “yeah, no strings, no ties, free as birds, tweet tweet.”

That earned him a chuckle, “Tweet tweet?”

“you prefer caw caw?” Stretch teased and his voice was normal, easy. Good. “grackle? i’d give you a kookaburra cackle but last time i tried it i couldn’t talk for two days.”

“Better not,” Edge’s voice was anything but normal, low and smoky, inviting the sorts of things that usually stirred up plenty of different emotions in Stretch’s rib cage, all the way down to his pelvis, and wasn’t it a damn shame his soul was all full up right now. Edge went on, as thick and sweet as the honey Stretch tended to crave. “you’ll want to save your voice for something better.”

“yeah, about that,” Stretch poked at his empty pudding cup, his spoon rattling, “actually, i think i’m gonna head home.”

Edge frowned. Rightfully so, Stretch didn’t usually turn down sex, it was a better dessert than any at the trucks, even the lava chocolate cakes that always sold out. “Are you all right?”

“just a little tired,” Stretch shrugged. “think i’ll turn in early.” He didn’t mention low HP and neither did Edge, who only nodded.

“Then let me drop you off,” Edge started gathering up their trash, separating it out and bagging it up to dump in his home recycling. “You’ll be on the bus for an hour.”

There wasn’t a good reason for Stretch to refuse, so he didn’t. He sat on the passenger side and closed his sockets, let the motion of the car and the shitty crooner music that Edge listened to lull him into a near-sleep. The ride was too short for him to zonk out entirely, but he was still drowsy when Edge nudged him, let him steal a brief, easy kiss before he slid out the door into the parking lot of his apartment building.

Stretch waved as Edge drove away, then bypassed the front door entirely and instead took a shortcut upstairs. Not inside his apartment, but to the fire escape that everyone in the building used instead as a sort of rattling balcony. There was a ratty deckchair in the corner, shoved in tight to keep from impeding the steps, and that was where Stretch sat as he dug out his cigarettes.

He was halfway through the first, basking in the nicotine rush, when he heard the window opening above him then boots on metal steps. He sank deeper into the creaky chair, bracing himself.

“Papy!” Blue called happily as he descended the stairs. His apartment was directly above Stretch’s, their version of a compromise when Stretch gently told his bro that he wanted his own place. The Fell brothers could live together if they wanted and did, and Stretch didn’t judge them for it. But Stretch had let his life revolve around his brother for a long damn time and once they were on the surface, facing the sunshine and an entire change of life, Stretch decided he wanted that change to go a little further and told Blue with as much blunt kindness as he could that he wanted his own place.

Blue got over it and in Stretch’s opinion, their relationship was better for having a little necessary space. Now his little bro leaned over the last metal rail, his starry eye lights bright as he beamed at Stretch and asked, "Well? How did it go??”

Stretch looked away, blowing out a long stream of silent smoke.

That eagerness softened, wilted. “Ah. It went like that.”

“yeah,” Stretch stubbed out his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray tucked underneath his chair, lit another. “guess it’s a good thing i dipped a toe into the river first, bringing up undyne and al’s wedding. didn’t know it was the rubicon i was trying to cross.”

Better than bringing out that little velvet box still tucked away in his hoodie pocket, it seemed. Not like he’d been planning a big production or anything, fuck no, Edge would’ve hated that, already hated it when Humans gave them side-eyes and stares. Nah, the plan was to bring it up casual-like over dessert and now he was pretty fucking glad he hadn’t. The ache in his chest was one he’d get over, give him a few days and a few smokes and he’d be right as rain, left as lightning, all that shit. Having to deal with that hurt on top of Edge turning him down, (rudely, coldly, highly possible, gently, awkwardly, so much worse) wasn’t something he wanted to give a try.

Blue came down the rest of the stairs at a more sedate pace, wrapping both arms around Stretch into a painfully tight hug, “I’m so sorry, brother.”

“eh, probably just as well,” Stretch tossed his second butt into the ashtray and resisted the urge to light another. He’d smoke his way through the pack once Blue went back upstairs, no reason for both of them to be miserable. “he’s working his way up at the embassy, he doesn’t need a lazy shit like me holding him back.”

He could feel Blue struggling not to argue and damn well appreciated it. He wanted to bask in his pain for right now, fucking savor it, his own soul served up as another casualty of the food trucks. Save the rah rah cheerleading for when he was more equipped to hear it.

“guess i better find out if the jewelry shop take returns or something,” Stretch sighed, “having a wedding ring laying around the house feels a lot like having a loaded gun, you don’t want anyone to find it unexpectedly.”

He fumbled for the little box, absently thinking of what would be a good day to head in to the shop, he was pretty sure he still had the receipt and—

In his hoodie pocket was his lighter, his smokes, a little baggie of dog treats, a handful of change since Stretch was physically incapable of walking past a vending machine, something his collection of small toys and weird condoms would attest to. No black velvet box that would never be opened in offering, showing off a simple pair of bands that he’d spent an hour agonizing over with an exceptionally patient salesperson, cause hell, they’d been not-dating for years now, maybe it was time to toss a label on all this. Except it wasn’t and neither was that little box.

“it’s not here.” No box. No rings, what the fuck. Horrified realization hit with the force of a two-ton slap. “it must’ve fallen out!”

“Oh, dear,” Blue tutted, “if it was at the park, someone likely took it.”

“i’d rather they did than him find it! edge gave me a ride home!” Stretch hissed. Panic was tight in his chest, fuck, fuck, “what if it’s in his car? i gotta get it back, i gotta!"

"Brother, calm down,” Blue tried, unconvincingly, “it might not even be in his car.”

“i have to check!” Stretch moaned. He couldn’t let Edge find it first, fuck, somehow he’d stepped out of the path of a speeding car straight into an oncoming semi-truck. “i can't let him find it! fuck!” He latched onto his brother’s shoulders, clutching desperately, “bro, you gotta help me!”

Blue still looked pretty doubtful but this was his brother, his little bro, and for years it’d only been the two of them there for each other, years and tears and love, was there anything they wouldn’t do for each other, even participate in an impromptu jewelry heist?

So it wasn’t a surprise when Blue nodded, finally, sighing out, “All right, brother, what did you have in mind?”

~~*~~

Read Chapter 2

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus

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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years ago

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apple, auburn, burgundy, jam, scarlet, vermillion

hell yea thank you for t-pose throwing this dagger at me lmao

apple: favourite fruit?

i think mangos are Objectively the best fruit but in terms of what i have more often....raspberries and blackberries are good......oranges are pretty solid and it’s like, great, vitamin c.......can’t get that enthused about bananas coz they’re just kinda like, Shrug, but it’s like okay great i appreciate this opportunity to eat a Staple......strawberries / cherries are pretty good when they’re good, right, brilliant concept there lol but you know. applesauce is good but i’m not usually that hyped about apples lol like if they’re at all on the [soft / grainy] area of the spectrum it’s kind of a chore.

auburn: favourite animal?

i like both cats and birds a lot.......i guess Domesticated Cats is a solid answer but i like many animals

burgundy: are you punny?

yeah lol mostly in person, would break it out with (or at) my siblings a decent amount......and i guess also always enjoy Wordplay beyond puns and like, am gonna point it out if i notice it / will probably break it out if i think of it. i also have Never experienced the idea of like, puns being Bad or lowkey frustrating or whatever. i think they’re either Neutral or genuinely funny in part Because you gotta reach for it / really make it obvious you’re Goofing Around and lean into it, and i always think that’s truly Humorous. i like when ppl make it obvious they’re Doing A Bit and commit to it a nonzero amount. and i like puns and will think them up myself yeah

jam: favourite flavour of jam/jelly?

raspberry jam

scarlet: space or ocean?

we love the respective winston / tayston associations w/ both these symbolic-ass concepts lmao......and it’s fun coz i’ve Had specific interest in both, not to say i’m Uninterested now, but it’s like, all us out here going “i should be a marine biologist or smthing” back in the day, i def considered “should do space something or other someday?” at some point, and enjoyed learning shit about both topics a fair amount.......and again i’m not now Uninterested or whatever, it’s just like, less [cool aesthetic, cool shit involved] and more like well they’re also both just kind of Big Soup Of Bullshit ft. a lot of space that’s occupied by Nothing except plankton or radiation or crap, and i hate a lot of the shit that lives in the ocean like look i respect what it is and that its not the ocean / the ocean biology’s fault that it’s nasty and heinous and stupid, same @ space and all the bullshit flying around there, but it’s like, okay you all stay over there and i’ll stay over here. and i can’t say that i’m like “boy i absolutely Should have been some kind of ocean biologist type person whatever / astrophysicist or whatever crap” like, not that into it. i’m following the twitter account for the webb telescope coz that’s the one project i give a crap about, we don’t need to be going to the moon or to mars but at the same time everyone stop going “we can shoot ppl into space but” or “we know more about the Moon than what’s in the ocean,” like, great. the more i know what’s in the ocean the more i resent it. gross ass bullshit........when it comes to more Superficial stuff like [looking at the night sky] or [being at the beach] both are fine. i’m always like trying to remember constellations and stars, but not That hard, b/c i know like half a dozen. the beach is kinda Overrated as like, the pinnacle of ~vacationing~ like, it’s fine, but w/e. i don’t love walking along and having to instinctively fling my leg out b/c a crab tried to grab on and im hurling it away, or wading into the water and hoping nothing touches me. not horrified by everything though, b/c a few times it’s been like “lets feel around for those sea slugs guys in shells” and once or twice a lil shark has visibly swum by and i’m sagely like “ah that’s fine. sharks were not really a concern until jaws freaked everyone out about it,” congratulations to me. also i once was like “should i look into taking up surfing” but didn’t and it probably wasn’t feasible and Whatever @ that. so right lmao i’m supposed to be choosing.......i guess Aesthetically i choose space because the night sky is always cool, just last night i was like “hey epic Phase Of The Moon (just barely Waning Crescent)” whereas like yeah really clear tropical shallows are neat to look at or wyland murals or w/e but nowadays i just think of the fact it’s nasty shit living in there and mostly like, the Dark Depths where i don’t care to be or think much about. giant isopods are pretty funny but everything else down there......christ. then i was gonna be like Ecosystem-wise gotta go with the ocean like s/o to its contributions to the global ecology but then i remembered that space has The Sun and everything so.....guess that wins as well. lots of fucked up shit in space like quasars and the high energy cosmic rays we don’t know the source/s of but at least that shit tends to be Definitely Not Around Here whereas everything in the ocean is too close for comfort and a lot of it is stuff we have real Visuals of and i'm not a fan. i also wouldn’t care too much to Visit either like, No Thanks to being an astronaut or doing any ocean exploration. but yeah still space kind of wins. not w/ much of my enthusiasm. i say all that but i’d probably get somewhat Emotional at the cosmos vangelis theme from having seen cosmos like 17 yrs ago and remembering v little or october sky just shooting some bottle rockets and crap........what would make me Em-ocean-al though......idk. space winning again, halfheartedly :/

vermillion: tell us a random fact about yourself

oh my god lmfao the difficulty of remembering Facts About Myself.........we’ll be here all day if i try to think of an answer but let’s just go with i’m either like 5′11″ or 6′0″ and just tall enough that when people encounter me they’re like “hey you’re tall” woohoo

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mrneighbourlove · 5 years ago

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Serious Gal and Her Hot Night Out: Burnt Heart Spin off.

Grievous had stayed in the kingdom of Hyrule for a month now since her initial arrival. To be honest, she was feeling paradise here. No more drills, no more academic military studies, and no more being stuck on a hot island. Currently, she was learning how to paint her nails with her older half-sibling.

"I believe you're getting pretty good there," Urboro inspected Grievous' handiwork as she painted her own nails. Even though she was a Zemlja, she had the hotheaded nature of a Vatra. After a long day out on the fields, Urboro was ready for the nightly entertainment. "Next, I'll show you how to do some sexy eyeliner."

“Ok. If you think it’ll make me pretty.” Grievous was anxious, a brand-new way of life ahead of her.

"You're already pretty, this will make you hot." Urboro instructed. "Okay, now close your eyes and don't move. It will feel wet at first, that's normal. Then it will dry."

Grievous did as she was told, her tail wagging from the sensation. “You told me that there were young men with six packs in town? I researched there a lot of farmers in Hyrule.”

"Yes, there are, but I suppose it depends on your preference." Urboro carefully applied the liquid black eyeliner to accent Urboro's eyes. "If you like men, if you like women, or both. Personally, I like my men like I like my rocks. Hard." She snickered at the implication. "Though I think you will like Muso when you meet him. He's a gentle giant of sorts and very talented with his work in the forge. He helped Aunt Zarazu's friend, Asakonigei, in the forge when she had a lot of orders. He's no Kovina, but still knows how to..." She purred. "Pound and pound and pound..."

Grievous wasn’t at all feeling second hand embarrassment due to Urboro fantasizing sex. In fact, the Dal had been thinking about the possibilities for herself. “Is Muso your boyfriend?”

"Yes, we've been dating for two years." Urboro told Grievous. "It was sort of an accident, how we met. Some pervert in the bar slapped my ass, and I turned around to punch said pervert. Well, I thought the pervert was Muso. I was wrong. It was one of his buddy. Muso then knocked out his asshole of a friend, and apologized to me. Needless to say, I was mortified for punching the wrong man and offered to buy him a drink."

“That’s a nice story. I’d have broken their arms.” Grievous laughed at the thought. “I imagine this ‘pounding’ is nice. You said I’d be exotic to these men?”

"Yes, because you're new. Someone they're never seen before." Urboro then held up a mirror. "All done! You can open your eyes now."

Grievous did so, and she let out an audible gasp. Her new make up looked wonderful with her wild, exotic hair. Happy, her tail wagged back and forth. “I look so different!”

"Heh, not too different." Urboro then took a seat behind Grievous to do her hair. "Listen, you don't have to wear makeup unless you want to. A lot of people say that women wear makeup to impress men. I say bullshit. Wear it for yourself just to feel awesome if you want." She started combing through Grievous' hair. "I'll teach you how to do eyeliner next. Though for now, how do you want your hair? Up? Down? Braids? ... pigtails?"

“My hair? Isn’t it pretty as it is? It goes naturally down does it not?” Grievous was confused, and it showed. “It’s a little thick and spiky to be braided, no?”

"Totally pretty as is, but it's fun to try something different here and there." Urboro used her own hair as an example. "I don't have dreads like my mother, I inherited my father's jet black, straight hair. If I left it down all the time, it'd get boring. So, I put it in braids, or sometimes a tail, or curl it sometimes. You get my point, right?"

"I suppose." Grievous ran her hands through her hair. It was thick, lush, and, most importantly, smooth after a shower. "But if I'm really exotic, shouldn't I keep it the way it is at least the first night? Besides, I believe you mentioned something about men being driven wild by brushing hair with their fingers?"

"True... though a little mousse wouldn't hurt to help show it off. Give it a little more volume." Urboro ran her hands through Grivy's hair. "Now all that is left is T&A and you're good to go."

"T&A?"

"Tits and ass." Urboro finished Grivy's hair and then proceeded to look through her closet. "Hrm... I've got a bigger bust than you, but I think this will do. It's a little small on me, but probably would be perfect on you." She handed Grivy a deep, silky, v-cut crop top and then a pair of tight leather pants. "But we both got a booty. So this outfit should work for you."

"Oh. Thanks." Grievous did her best not to overly smile and let Urboro be let on she was incredibly flattered. No one had really seen her physicality as beautiful or gave it any thought until she came to Hyrule. She loved every bit of care she was being given by her sister and excited for others to see her the same way. "I just have to make one little adjustment." Bringing her finger to the back of the leather pants, she burned a perfect hole in the back. Taking her clothing off, she slipped on only the new clothes as replacements. The crop top went on smoothly, but the pants were a tight fit. From the hole she burned, her tail sprouted outwards. She gave her ass a pat, rubbing the leather. "That's a nice fabric."

"Hey! What are.... oh. I forgot about your tail." Urboro rubbed her chin. "We'll have to make some alterations to the clothes around here, but that would be an easy fix." She then looked at Grivy's backside and thought for a moment. "Hrm... missing something... wait! I got it!" She dove back into her closet and then pulled out a belt, full of jingling accessories. "Here we go... something to announce your arrival and to draw even more attention to your butt. Just clip it on the sides."

"Oh. If you think it will make an appearance." Without looking at her, Grievous used her tail to grab the belt as she was busy with her hands ruffling her hair with a brush in all the right spots she wanted it to be.

"Now, just a few tips," Urboro told Grivy. "There are going to be some guys who want to buy you a drink, or offer to show you a good time, or even ask you to dance. If you like them, then you can say yes. If not, there's nothing wrong with saying no. If you say no and a man doesn't understand that, then that's when you kick him in the crotch and say 'no' really firm, one more time. Give him a hint." She then added, "Or like my Muso, he'll be charming and walk you home, ask to see you again, and then go from there. I lucked out with him."

"Alright. If they try to hurt me, can I burn them or snap their bones?" Grievous buckled the belt, making a twirl to Urboro.

"I would... go with a typical sucker punch." Urboro thought about the inquiry for a moment. "Only really hurt them if it's a life or death situation. I usually just let the ground swallow them up to their neck and leave them that way until they apologize for being a dick."

"Could threaten to have Sylvain to sick em.” Grievous’ energy to get out and explore new aspects of life was rocking her body up and down, even if she kept a rather calm voice. “Let's go! I'm excited to go. I want to met this man of yours."

"Let's just stick to the sucker punch." Urboro assured Grivy. "And one more thing; never ever leave your drink alone. Don't want to get drugged. We'll look after each other, all right?"

"Ok. No looking away from drinks."

There were several bars in the kingdom, but Urboro's favorite was called the Tickle My Citrus. It was a horrible pun about a clitoris, but it did have the best lime margaritas on this side of town. Once inside the building, Urboro ordered herself and Grievous a drink and sat at a small table.

At the table, Grievous took a sip of her drink, squinting a little at the taste. "You know, I'm not a complete stranger to liquor. The Dal grow a selection of wine vines, using the berries for multiple flavours. This is far more bitter than that though."

Her tail was playfully whipping around, making wavy motions with every swallow.

"Tequila is my go-to alcohol. I like the bitter, but if you don't like this one, I could get you a sweet flavored margarita. Let's see," Urboro opened the menu. "They have strawberry, mango, and peach flavors besides lime. Or I could request a mixture of---"

"Ladies..." One of the more forward Hylian guards approached the table. He was halfway to tipsy already. "Which one of you ladies would like to accompany me back to my home tonight?"

Grievous studied him, her eyes examining his movements. He moved like a fish trying to swim on land. As excited as she was for adventure, she knew she could do better. "She's taken. And I'm not looking yet."

"But sweetcheeks, I could show you a really good time..." The guard grinned at her. "Why don't you both come home with me? You and that big ass." With that, he reached out to pinch her backside, but before he could, Urboro had punched him straight in the nose, knocking him backwards.

Shaking her hand, she then scoffed, "You asshole! I just did my nails and you made me break one!" She then called to the bouncer, "Yisi, will you please drag his ass out of here?"

"Sure thing, Ur."

Grievous' tail froze upwards, her eyes narrowing at the man. "I could have done that."

"You can next time, ugh, now I'm going to have to do my nails again." Urboro grumbled, "But that's how you do it. I didn't kill him, but he certainly got the hint. Now, the other guys in here will take you more seriously instead of judging that you're a piece of meat."

"But didn't that mean they only take you seriously? I didn't do anything? You protected me instead of letting me defend myself." Her tail drooped with her thoughts. Once more, Grievous' place on the pecking order with her siblings placed her lower.

"No one messes with my sisters or my brothers. We protect each other. That's how it's done." Urboro explained to Grivy. "If someone tried to touch my ass and I didn't see it, you'd sock him right?"

"Yes. But I saw him coming. Shouldn't I be justified first before breaking him apart?"

"... you want me to go get him and let him try again?" Urboro asked dryly. "I won't apologize for reacting to protect my baby sis."

"No. I'm sorry. Part of me is still seeing this as a competition of you one upping me and not being genuinely caring." Grievous took another swig of her drink. "I'll try not to see it that way anymore."

"Remember, sis, there's no competition here. If you really want a match, you can always sign up for some sparring sessions." Urboro patted her on the shoulder. "Don't think of it of me trying to one up you, just think of it as me trying to look out for you cause you'd do the same for me. We good?"

"Yeah." Grievous finish her beer bottle. Although it was a good first drink, the more she thought about someone trying to make the moves on her, the more her blood boiled. A few people watching the sisters saw Grievous pick up the beer bottle with her tail. With excellent precision, she threw the bottle across the bar, smashing the glass into the guard’s head, knocking him onto his knees just as he was thrown out. Hearing years of practice pay off, she smiled sinisterly. "I'm more than good. Let’s have this fruity drink you were speaking of."

"Hrm... you'd be great at the dart competitions here." Urboro remarked with a snicker. "If you win, you get free drinks for the night. Matter of fact," She looked at the time. "If you hurry, you can sign up for the first game."

"Darts?"

Three drinks in. Urboro must have been amazed, because Grievous finally lost almost all tension in her body. Her shoulders were relaxed, she didn't scowl or have resting bitch face, and she was even laughing. The Dal wasn't swaying back and forth or going to far as of yet, but a change was noticeable. Currently, she was kicking her sister's, and anyone bold enough to face her, ass at darts. Throwing three darts, one in each hand and one with her tail, she yelled with victory as she sunk a bullseye first and the two others to get her exact numbers, "Game two! I win again!"

Each time Grievous scored, the men had made a game to take a drink. There was cheering when the darts hit the scoreboard and the downing of shots. Everyone was having a grand time. The patrons in the bar was getting tipsy, but not yet close to drunk.

"Damn, you're good a darts." Urboro admitted defeat. "All right, sis, you've beat me, best two out of three. How about we order some food now? They got great fish and chips---"

"Sugarpie!" Muso made his way through the crowd with a huge basket of fish and chips for his girlfriend. "I thought I heard my woman say she was hungry."

"Hungry for you." Urboro literally latched onto Muso, her hands on his shoulders and legs around his torso. "Where have you been? I wanted to introduce you to Grivy."

"Sorry, sugar, they kept me late at the forge, but I got here as soon as I could, and to make up for it," Muso whispered in her ear. "I'll do that thing with my tongue you like tonight."

"Oh hi!" Grievous smiled, collecting rupees from men she made bets with. She was confident enough to make flirty wagers with her skills for money. Finally meeting Muso, her tail wagged back and forth. "Ah, you must be Muso. Urboro spoke a great deal about you."

"So you're little Grivy," Muso gently set Urboro back on her feet and pulled a chair up to the table. Taking one of the chips to munch on, he then said, "It's nice to finally meet you. Odd family dynamic you got going on there, but no judgement from me, I got two half-brothers and a half-sister due to mom having three different husbands. Divorced my dad, her second husband died, and her third husband is still living."

"Babe, didn't you say you were going to bring Stigr here too?"

"Oh, he's here, he's just ordering a round of drinks for everyone." Muso pointed out his friend by the bar. "Tall guy with white streaks in his hair? That's him."

Grievous wasn't listening to much, digging into the fish and chips set in front of her. "I have hundreds of half-siblings, but a number is number I guess. It's about who you form bonds with."

"I think you'll like Stigr though, Grivy." Urboro pulled the food away from her sister long enough to get her attention. "He's from Uskar and a warrior just like you."

"Oh yeah, he's a great sparring partner." Muso told the Dal. "Matter of fact, he's got this really unique style. He likes to use the trees to do his scouting."

"Uskar? The Empire taught us about them in great detail. Where is he?" Grievous looked around, and the moment she did, she came face to face with who she was looking for.

"I didn't know if the ladies wanted another round of margaritas or a beer so I got both." Stigr set the tray of drinks down on the table and then looked at Grievous with a wide grin. "So you're the new addition to the family that Urboro was telling me about at work." He was not as large as Muso, but he was still a burly man and had heterochromia; one blue eye and one brown. "I noticed you were kicking ass at darts. Where did you get so good?" And oddities upon oddities... he had a long, white tail.

Grievous was looking down at his long appendage, fascinated by it. Her own brown tail wagged herself, catching Stigr's gaze. "Wow, I didn't know you were like me."

"...? Like you?" Stigr looked confused. "I'm not Dal. I'm Uskarian."

"I think she means the tail, dude." Muso gestured to the friend's extra appendage.

"Oh! Oh yeah, I got a tail too. Lots of Uskarians do." Stigr took a sip of his drink. "Wolves, leopards, and even snow monkeys like me.”

Grievous watched as he sat down, taking an offered margarita. An audible 'ooo' left her as she took a taste. "It's so sweet."

"That's the peach flavor." Stigr shrugged. "Figured you'd like the more fruity flavors than the citrus, no offense, Ur."

"Citrus is not the only thing that tastes a little... bitter." Urboro winked at Muso who promptly turned red in the face.

"You have no filter."

"And you love me for it."

Grievous looked at Stigr with intrigued interest. "It's really nice to meet you Stigr. I'm Grievous. People seem to be calling me Grivy for short. You live in Hyrule for long?"

"Grievous is badass, but Grivy... I like that, it's cute. Both badass and cute." Stigr laughed. "I've been here for about five years now. I came to actually study the plants. I scout back in Uskar, but here, I study herbs that can be used for medicine so when I go back to Uskar one day, I can help plant the fields and grow them. So far, I've taken three trips with new plants."

"Everyone usually has a dual job in Uskar," Muso told Grivy. "Scout, farmer, blacksmith, fishermen, take your pick. Everyone has to learn a trade, but also how to survive."

"I was trained by the Kikai Empire to be a solider. Not good with melee weaponry, but I excelled in my studies of martial arts, ranged weaponry and tactics. They wanted me to become a General for a new generation. But I liked my freedom too much to be tied down. That's the badass part of me." For the briefest of moments, she looked at Stigr with the light glow of a beautiful fairy with the smile she flashed him. "You think I'm cute though?"

"Well, you got to do something that makes you happy, otherwise, you're going to be miserable. That's no way to go through life." Stigr then laughed and asked, "Is that a trick question? Of course you're cute."

"Flirt alert." Urboro coughed under her breath.

"Oh, shut up."

Under the table, he felt his tail be stroked by hers. It was hard to tell by her face if she did it on purpose. "You know, I'm going to be staying in Hyrule more permanently, so I'm not leaving any time soon."

"Should we get you two a room?" Muso asked his friend.

"Well, she's currently sharing my elder sister's bedroom, so yes, they should get a room," Urboro hinted to Grivy. "Because if she brought him back, Dad would blow a fuse. Literally. You should have seen him when I brought Muso home."

"That bad?" Stigr asked with a snicker.

"Let's just say I was worried my ass was going to have third degree burns."

"Let's leave the two flirty-birdies to themselves for a bit." Urboro leaned over to whisper to Grivy. "He's a good one, don't worry. And I slipped a condom in your back pocket, for the love of the spirits, use it cause you don't need a mini-monkey right now."

The hell was a condom? Grievous didn't give it much thought. The Dal waved goodbye to her sister. "You two have fun."

Now more alone with Stigr, she leaned a little more over the table. "I don't have experience with this sort of thing, but I like to follow my instincts. What do you want to do now? This is a real sweet drink by the way."

"Experience with darts and drinking or with flirting?" Stigr inquired, using his tail to brush up and down Grivy's own. "Look, I usually don't do the whole bar and one-night stand thing, but a good time I'd never turn down as long as you're up to continuing a relationship. My mother will give me hell if I don't settle down at some point. Want to get out of here and walk and talk?"

"Flirting. And yes. I think a walk is a good start." As they got up, she took his hand. He was nice and sturdy to lean against. What felt far nicer was when she wrapped his tail around his. God, her tail rubbing against his thicker fur was incredible to her nerves. "You got a lot of family back home?"

"... three, incredibly annoying, baby sisters." Stigr nearly purred when her tail ran over his. It had been a long while since he had a female in his bed. Though, he was attempting to be a gentleman. Only if she showed interest, then he'd go forth with it. And thus far, she was showing quite a bit of interest... in his tail. His weak spot. He led her along the path, leading by the beautiful flowers illuminated by moonlight. "My parents actually talked about never having kids but look what happened. Ironic, isn't it?"

“You want irony? Thanks to my father, I’m one of over six-hundred half children of his. Urboro and my half siblings on her side are new additions to me I only discovered last month when my curiosity led me to track down the old man. Before you ask, it’s very complicated, but I don’t think when he met Zizi he planned on having so many kids too.” Grievous did indeed notice the flowers. The tail rubbing started to get her heated, but she kept it to herself rather well. She certainly picked up his purring though.

"By Rotar, I'd hate to be at that family reunion. Could you imagine trying to know all the names?" Stigr jested in good humor. "Though, from what Ur says, you're happier here. You're even trying to learn a trade, and helping out on the plantations when you can." He decided to test the waters, per se, and ran his hand down her back, settling at the base of her tail. "And that you're good with your... hands..."

Grievous paused, her trademark serious coming through. If they wanted to continue, she had to know how willing he’d be to commitment. “Are you willing to be committed to be in a serious relationship?”

"...? Yes?" Stigr thought she was trying to once again, ask him a trick question. "I don't know much about Dal culture to be honest. Though in Uskarian culture, there is a time of courtship, the presentation of a ceremonial cloak, and then eventually marriage. Although, Vidar and Princess Kanisa sort of did things... well, backwards."

“You take me too seriously. My fault I suppose. To be simpler, you looking for a girlfriend you’d treat fairly?”

"Heh, nothing wrong with being serious. Be serious, get a serious answer." Stigr replied with a bit of cheek to his tone, grinning from ear to ear. "Treat fairly, with respect, seen as equals... except just one thing."

“What would that be?” Grievous pulled herself closer.

"I get to do the ass slapping." With a hard smack, Stigr gave Grivy's backside a smack and then hopped into the nearest tree with a smirk. With snow monkeys, this was a game of tag. Yet, it was definitely used to spice up the mood. Not only tag, but a game of prey and predator. "Catch me if you can, Grivy." Then he bounded through the trees.

Grievous was so ready to pounce him on the spot had he not bounded off. Now, being offered a challenge, she suddenly became less horny and more competitive. Did dates in Hyrule or Uskar turn into hunts? So be it. She’d catch him no matter what. “You’re mine.”

She sprinted up the tree best she could. These tight clothes made her ass shine like a beacon in the night as she limberly chased after him. Her own tail helped her grip branches as she sought him, leaping from tree to tree under the moonlight. Working up a bit of sweat, she gave it all to catch him with one last pounce. “Got ya!”

When Grivy pounced on him, Stigr turned to catch her. Rookie mistake, he anticipated that. He grabbed her by the hips, spun her around, and pinned her against the tree with a loud purr, flicking his tail.

"Now who has who?"

With her arms pinned, a flash of attraction flashed in her eyes. Using her tail, she pulled him close, and leaned up to kiss him with a deep purr. “I got you.”

"Sneaky one, aren't you?" Stigr chuckled and then returned the kiss with enthusiasm. He then started a trail of kisses down her throat, before nibbling over her jugular vein. His tail ran curled between her legs, rubbing against her womanhood.

With no panties, and the tight silk pants offering little room between her womanhood and tail, Grievous started to pant. Her tail whipped around erotically, anticipating more. “Do Direnor or people of Hyrule tend to go to those lengths outside? I’m not saying to stop, but...”

"Hylians? Nah. Direnors? We fuck outside when mating season roles around or even for fun." Stigr told Grivy with a low growl, smelling her arousal. "Even got a Pleasure House where you can choose your partner or partners for the night."

“Oh. Good. Us Dal love to make love be it in the trees, by the beach, or mountain top.” Her hands grasped his shoulders, her tail pulling his own. “Do you want to fuck me? I’m ok with it Stigr.”

"I'd like to... but only if you're sure." Stigr reminded Grivy. "Direnors can be... a little rough. Don't want to spook you or scare you off."

“I don’t see anything to be scared of.” She leaned up to kiss him again. Be confident, just like Urboro said. That saying no at anytime was allowed. “I’d like to too.”

"Then how would you like to begin?" Stigr asked Grivy as he ran his hands down her sides. "You're beautiful, you got a sexy body, and seems like you got a sweet personality... even if you did brutally beat those guys in darts without a sense of remorse. That was hot."

“I also threw a beer bottle without looking from across the room at some sleezeballs head with my tail.” Her hand went to his bulge, grasping it with a firm grip. Was big. Urboro said it might be. “How’s that for a start?”

"Would be impressive if next time you just caught his ass on fire with a wink." Stigr jolted when she grabbed his crotch, but her touch was not unwelcome. "I guess you know how excited you make me. It's not everyday that you see a female that's so sure of herself. And that's why," His fingers slipped into her tight leather pants, pulling them down to her ankles. "I think you need a bit of a... skilled touch to please." Nudging her legs apart, he had her standing, leaning against the tree, while he proceeded to lap at her folds.

Grievous raised her hands above her head, trembling as Stigr started to lick at her bright pinkness. She felt so loved. This was attention she never dared to dream was possible. “Oh, oh wow.”

She approved of his oral technique. So, Stigr decided to take it a step further. While his tongue was occupied with her folds, his tail teasingly rubbed over her clit. His fingers then gently teased her opening, inserting one, then another, doing a scissor-like motion inside of her.

Grievous in turn gripped his skull, tightly holding on for support. Her body was so hot, that she felt bolts of pleasure rush to her head. “Oh Stigr. That’s amazing~”

The small bit of pressure to his skull only turned his on further. Stigr did not mind a bit of roughness. Though, would she like it? Just to test the waters, he gave a hard slap on her ass, at the same time he flicked her clit.

“Oh GOD!” She crushed a little harder, her hips bulking towards him to stuff him further.

"Hrmmm, I'll take that as a compliment," Stigr said cheekily as he gave a long, slow, teasing lick to her clit, just to see her shiver. "But I'm no deity.

The girl took a few moments to breath and calm her nerves. Was hard when her stomach felt so tight from pleasure. “What next? Do I pleasure you?”

"I honestly don't think I'd last overly long if you did." Stigr chuckled, being honest. "I was already turned on while watching you do your thing."

“I want to try.” Grievous got on her knees, kissing down his chest per instruction from her sister. Grabbing his pants and underwear, she pulled them both down. Her eyes were suddenly glued by his appendage.

The longer Grievous stared, the more Stigr wondered if something was wrong. She was looking at his erection like it was something... new. Wait a minute...

"... Grivy, you have seen one of these before, right?"

“Yes. I just... never this close to me.” Her hands steadily grasped his erection. Without giving into any more hesitation, her lips clomped down around his tip. It was a little salty, but she started to lick and suckle it. Show no fear in the face of the unknown her instructors echoed in her mind. They probably didn’t plan for her to use their advice for this scenario though.

"Wait, are you a---fuuuuccck..." Stigr took a sharp inhale when Grievous was suddenly so eager to please, but he had to know. "Wait, wait, wait, fuck, that feels great, but there is a concern," He gently pushed her shoulders back. "You haven't had sex before, have you?"

“No. You’re my first.”

"That's what I thought... not that it's a problem!" Stigr quickly said. "Everyone always has a first, I just... well... I don't want to cause you anymore discomfort than necessary. Maybe you should let me make you cum first a couple of times. Get you more relaxed."

“I thought that’s what I was doing.” Grievous leaned in again. This time, when she sucked him off again, not only did she dare to go deeper with him down her throat, she pulled and massaged his tail with a sneaky hand. Her lips sucked down tightly over the pull of his dick.

"SHIT!" Stigr was not expecting the sudden grope of his tail, the pleasure going straight up his spine and to his head. He climaxed suddenly, shaking from head to toe. "Sorry, I... good Rotar, you have a tongue, but my tail is sensitive. I should have warned you."

Grievous wasn’t quick enough, or really knowing what to expect. She chocked a little as he pulled out, her face becoming drenched in cum. Swallowing what she could, the Waku gave him a smile as she stood up. “It’s ok. Little startling, but I’m fine.”

Carefully, she took off her top, leaving her pants hanging far down low so she could stretch her legs. The spring night of Hyrule was warm, but even if it wasn’t her naturally hot body kept her warm. Turning, she leaned against the tree, sticking her thick ass at him. With a turn of her head, she still had some cum on her face she was licking and swallowing. Her instincts told her this would drive him wild. The art of the tease could undermine your opponent to falling right into one’s hands. “It’s ok to be sensitive. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

"Nope... not at all..."

Her licking the cum was hot. Her suddenly undressing was like a strip tease. But the presenting of her ass? Now, that he was not expecting. Stigr felt his member twitch back to life again, just seeing her round, supple backside, waving at him. A primal sort of need started stirring within him. His animalistic side was starting to show a bit, more fur sprouting on his body in places. Though, he did want to savor this moment, just for a little bit.

Stigr ran his hands over her ass, cupping the thick cheeks there. He loved how aroused she smelled, loved the scent of his cum on her, and loved how forward she was being. A female who definitely knew what she wanted and how to get it... that, he adored.

Purring, Stigr placed kisses along her spine before giving her backside a little nip. Then, he lined up his cock between her legs, rubbing his length back and forth across her folds. Teasing.

Grievous growled, her hands clawing the tree for support. Her tail couldn’t stop whipping around, every once in a while, hitting his chest lightly as a signal to stop messing around.

"Impatient, are we?" Stigr wrapped his tail around hers. While he was eager, and so was she, it was best to take things slow the first time. Lining up his member with her entrance, Stigr pushed inside, reveling how hot she was, how her inner walls were gripping him. To distract her from any pain, he made sure one hand cupped her breast while the other was busy with her clit.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh goodness.” Grievous gripped the tree with her arms, holding on tightly as Stigr broke her virginity. Everything felt tight, like her body was breaking open. When he tugged at her tail, her walls only closed tighter. “I’m sensitive at my tail.”

"Good." Stigr whispered huskily into her ear, giving a hard thrust inside and at the same time, giving her backside another harsh slap. His tail rubbed against hers, curling. He recalled how she reacted when he gave her a spanking. Maybe there was a fetish there to explore later. Though, for now, Stigr wanted Grivy to feel something new... something blissful with this experience. He kept a steady pace, trying to listen to her body for what she liked.

Grievous was panting badly every time her tail was tugged or her ass was slapped. Soon enough into the experience, her body was molded around the shape of his dick, and she started to push back into him. “M-more. It feels like nothing I’ve felt before.”

"I'll make you feel even better." Stigr could sense her was getting close by the way she was trembling. Her body was not used to the sensations. While Grivy was panting hard, she was enjoying the stimulation. He could feel her pressing back into him, even demanding more. In sync with his thrusts, Grivy used one finger to flick her clit, sending a jolt throughout her body. "Don't hold back... just let go."

Grievous screamed loudly, a primal sense of freedom roaring, demanding to be let out. Her inexperienced body gave into Stigr’s command, and clamping hard with her pussy, she had her first orgasm. “Stigr! Yes! Oh god!” Her tail wrapped around his arm, tightening to find a sense of grounded reality.

Gripping her hips tightly, Stigr gave one thrust, then two, and climaxed, hard. His tail curled around her leg. He was breathing hard, having to hold onto Grivy's hips to make sure he did not crumple. This woman was definitely something else.

"You are divine..."

Grievous moaned loudly as he climaxed in her. As cum pumped into her, her hands made burns on the tree she held, black charcoal signifying her loss of virginity. “Stigr... you... that was amazing. Are all dates this amazing?”

"All dates can be this amazing." Stigr gave her a playful nip on the ear. Carefully, he removed his cock and fixed his pants. Then he helped Grivy with her pants and her top. "Heh, and I'd like to think I'm amazing, but you're probably just going to inflate my ego more. You're the one that wowed me."

“Does this mean you want to be my boyfriend?” Grievous blushed at the feeling of his cum staining her sisters clothing. Surely Urboro wouldn’t mind.

"Only if you want me to be. I mean... it's hard to find someone who is willing to date me." Stigr admitted to Grivy honestly. "I had to go back and forth a lot for my job. Sometimes for a month or two at a time. It's not ideal, I know, but I understand if you say no."

“That wasn’t what I asked you.” Grievous suddenly had a very commanding tone. “I like you. I feel a connection, and not just because you were a good fuck. I asked you a question I want you to answer. Do you want to be my boyfriend? Because I want to be your girlfriend. Unless you think that a one night stand was all you can handle.” Her tail smacked the tree, breaking a splinter off.

"... demanding, are you? How's this for an answer?" Stigr quirked an eyebrow at Grievous, tilting her chin up to look at him. "I would like to be your boyfriend as you put it. You're an interesting female, Grivy, just like your sister said. I'm glad she had the ideal to set us up."

“I’m glad to have met you.” Grievous wrapped her arms around him, giving him a warm hug. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

"I... don't have a place of my own yet." Stigr admitted with a frustrated groan, "I'm bunking with Muso and a few of his friends. We wouldn't be alone." He tried to think of what Urboro said about her family. "Wait... does your mom---I mean, your stepmom still have that treehouse?"

“Yes. We can stay there. I’ll keep you warm.”

The next morning, Grievous woke up laying on top of Stigr. She lulled him to sleep with one more session of sex. This time, she did something he referred to as ‘cowgirl’ position. Was very fun, if a little physically demanding. When he started to stir, Grievous moved her thick hair out of her face. Her bed hair was wicked crazy. “Morning there.”

"Hmm, hmm..." Stigr was not a morning person and groggily looked at his surroundings. "... either I'm still dreaming or I got a hot babe on top of me."

“It’s the latter.” She kissed his forehead, letting him get one last look at her bare body before bending over to get changed. “I have to go back home, but you’ll come by my house soon for another date? I’ll play darts with you.”

"Sure, I promised Muso I'd help him with some new orders today, but... oh fuck." Stigr then realized it was indeed morning and jumped to his feet, fixing his pants and hopping around. "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, he's going to kick my ass, I promised I'd be there." He nearly tripped over his own tail trying to hurry. "I had the best time, you're great, the sex was great, I swear to Rotar I'll come by tonight and take you out for this new dish called Piz-Zah, you're amazing, I got to go!" He gave her a kiss on the cheek before hopping out of the treehouse, calling after her. "See you later, Grivy!"

Grievous smiled softly, waving him goodbye. A hand to her cheek, she sighed dreamingly. The Dal didn’t want this floaty feeling in her chest to go away. Making sure she was cleaned up, Grievous went back to her residence. Soon enough after having shower, getting changed, and cooking herself toast, Urboro came through the door. All Grievous had to do was give her a mischievous grin.

Urboro stopped. She stared. She sniffed. Then she gasped with a high squeal of delight.

"You... got... laid!!!!" She did a little happy dance in place. "Hell yeah! My matchmaking worked!" She then pulled Grivy over to the dining table. "You got to tell me all the details, was he good? Did he treat you nicely?"

“He did. He treated me so well.” Grievous set her dish down, ready to get into all the details. “First, we went on a romantic walk together. Afterwards, he swatted my ass and we chased each other through the trees until he caught me as I lunged at him. With that he pinned me against a tree and we kissed deeply. Afterwards, I went with my feelings and made all the motions like you said I should to get him riled up. Along with some of my own moves. After that...” Grievous paused, giddy at the memory. These girly emotions were so new to her. “He went low and licked me deeply. Then I went down on him orally in return!”

"Damn, you move fast." Urboro's eyes were literally sparkling as Grivy relayed the intimate details. "I'm glad Stigr was good to you and it seemed like you got a good dose of pleasure. Though, the most important question remains!" She took a sharp inhale and then blurted out. "Did he have a big dick?"

“He had a dick this big.” Grievous stretched her hands from one another to emphasize size. “I got him to blow his sticky load into my mouth by pulling his tail. Seems we’re both sensitive with them. Afterwards, I turned my ass for him, and holding onto a tree, he fucked me. He fucked me so hard.”

"I caught him staring at your ass, I'm surprised he didn't try to mark his territory by leaving a bite mark on it." Urboro giggled and then added, "And are you going to see him again? Not too bad for your sister setting you up with one of her man's friends, hrm?"

“Oh yes. I got him to become my boyfriend. Oh Urboro, it was so magical. Thank you so much for your part. The feeling of him pounding into me, his sticky load filling me up, his kisses and bites on my back.” Grievous took the condom out of her pocket, handing it back. “Your good luck charm worked it’s magic. After making love at outside, we went another at the tree house and slept together. I never felt so alive and happy being so close with another.”

"....?!?!" Urboro looked at the 'good luck charm' and then seemed a little pale in the face. Wait, she should not rush to assumptions. Maybe Stigr used one. Or maybe he smelled that she was not in heat, couldn't get pregnant. She knew Direnors could do that. "Uh... why didn't you use this?"

“Use what?” Grievous looked at her older sister with growing curiosity. “You look like you just threw up. Did the alcohol get to you last night?”

"This is to... like go over the dick. To prevent uh... pregnancy." Urboro felt her mouth go a little dry. "Didn't your people use these?"

Once more, Grievous shook her head. She’d never seen that rubber object before. “No. Everyone knows that you can only get pregnant with an injection. It was how I was born.”

"... you can get pregnant by sex too." Urboro swallowed. Hard. "Grivy, forgive this stupid question, but you do know that sex is for reproducing right?"

Grievous blinked. Hard. Grabbing some water, she sat in stunned silence as she took a drink. “This means that I... oh no.”

"Let's not jump to conclusions!" Urboro said quickly, trying to reassure her sister. "Stigr probably wouldn't have had sex with you if he could smell that you were in heat. I mean, Direnors have very sensitive noises that way. And just for good measure, take this," She went over to her bag and pulled out a small bag of leaves. "Eat this. It prevents pregnancy. I take it everyday. Never know when the urge for a good dicking will hit you."

“He promised to come by again tonight.” Grievous quickly devoured a leaf as fast as was allowed.

"Okay, well, until then, let's just go over some basic sex education that I had no idea that you lacked." Urboro flopped down on her chair and groaned. "Sorry, Grivy, I'm such an idiot. I thought you knew since you knew what sex was. I shouldn't have assumed like that."

“It was still a fun night regardless.”

"Well... I guess as long as you're happy, that's what is most important." Urboro gave Grivy a small smile. "Just wait until you see his other form. He's white as snow with a little brown stripe down his back, and brown on his belly."

“Other form? Does it make for a better lover?”

"That I don't know. But his other form is a giant monkey. He's so poofy." Urboro snickered. "Looks like a Munja had a field day with his fur."

“Poofy like me?” Grievous pointed at her hair. “I’d like to see that. Hey Urboro?”

"Heh, maybe if you ask nicely enough, he'll do so." Urboro looked up at Grivy. "Yeah, sis?"

“I don’t think I’d have any luck on my own without you. Never imagined I was pretty enough to find a companion. Thank you for being a spectacular sister.”

"You had all the right pieces, Grivy, you just needed someone to help you put them together." Urboro grinned. "And anything for family."

#Eighteen Plus Content #Crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Grievous #Stigr #Urboro #Zizi family #Birds and the Bees

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youreallyshouldtalkmore · 6 years ago

Text

50 Ways to Stress_ Part 4

This takes place after Book 2: The Lion and His Lamb though you don’t necessarily have to read that story to understand this on. Though there are references to things that have happened previously in this series.

Summary: One of Shuri experiments goes horribly wrong and chaos ensues. And Prince N’Jadaka is right in the center of it….

As usual you can see all the parts listed for this series, along with other fanfics in my Black Panther Masterlist.

Disclaimer: Nothing really, Erik will be Erik so use of the N-word. And I wouldn’t read this at work, as I find it funny and you probably don’t want to burst into laughter and have everyone looking at you like you done lost it. lol

Already established Erik/Reader with T’Challa/Nakia

Part 4:

You had gotten through One Punch Man, pretty quickly and you thought it wasn’t bad. The android blond haired was cute which set off another round of arguments with Erik. Then you stared a DBZ marathon. This lasted for two days until Erik was becoming bored again, especially since he was relegated to that room.

In an effort to keep them calm, you managed to convince a few Dora to accompany a group of him at a time to walk around and exercise their legs. Group 1 and 2 went pretty smoothly.

However Group 3 were walking around until all of a sudden they exchanged mischievous smirks and all darted away scattering in different directions. The Dora Milaje had to split up to chase them.

This was why T’Challa was in the middle of a sentence when the doors to the throne room opened with a bang shifting the room into high alert.

Okoye jumped in front of T’challa, Nakia and Queen Mother. The Dora Miljae who was supposed to be guarding the door were nowhere to be found.

Three Erik’s stood and the one in the middle came marching into the room.

“Yo! I heard a meeting was going on! And no one invited me?” He cried.

T’Challa blinked. Even almost a week later, he never could get used to the high pitch voice coming from his cousin. Okoye stood tense next to him, eyes trained on the princes. She nodded subtly at the Dora Miljae around the room. Even if he was of royal blood, she would still be careful.

They tensed as suddenly a few more Erik’s came running into the room skidding to a stop with the Dora behind them. Barely a second went by before another few more Eriks came running it also with guards and Dora behind them.

“Good work, boys!” The lead Erik grinned.

The Erik’s saluted saucily. “Good idea, boss.” one said.

T’Challa realized this was the one of the rare times that even the Dora Milaje looked stressed. He held up his hand signalling them to fall back.

“Prince N’Jadaka, is there something wrong?” T’Challa asked.

“Aside from being on lockdown you mean?” Erik asked.

“Forgive me, I know it’s been trying. Shuri assures me it will be any day now.” the King replied.

“That don’t mean I gotta live in one room. Do you know what I have to put up with?” Erik jerked his thumb backwards. The other Erik’s began walking around touching and poking things.

“Please be patience….”

“About all out. Now, what we talking about and what is this meeting about and why ya’ll didn’t invite me?” Erik snapped.

T’Challa kept his voice calm as he answered, “It’s not a meeting that you would find interesting, N’Jadaka.”

Erik crossed his arms much like a child, even if he was one at the moment. “And how’d you know? Huh? Did you ask me?”

“You wish to talk about fruit distribution?” T’Challa asked lightly. It took everything in him to keep the laughter at bay.

Erik stilled and the other Erik’s did as well. “You mean were the mangos are going?”

T’Challa nodded, “Among other things, yes.”

“What?! You don’t think I can figure out how to get mangos from point A to point B?” Erik sniffed.

“I like mangos!” a voice piped up.

“Shut up!” snapped Erik.

“I once had to move a shipment around Iraq and you don’t think I can manage some mangos?” Erik asked glowering.

“We know of your capabilities, cousin.” T’Challa said softly trying to soothe potential ruffled feathers.

It had the opposite effect.

“Are you patronizing me, cuz?” He shook his fist, “You better watch yourself because I won’t be this size forever!”

“Forgive me that is not my intent. You seem to indicate quite strongly that you didn't want to be involved unless it was more of a military nature.”

“Oh, so now you calling me stupid.” Erik growled.

T’Challa was fast losing his diplomacy. How was it that little Killmonger and company was worse than one Killmonger? He was going to need some help at this rate and the only person who ever seemed to have an handle on him was you.

He glanced at Okoye, hoping she would get the message in his eyes. This was not going very well. Okoye caught the eye of Ayo and nodded her head. Ayo inclined her head before darting out of the room.

Entering the assigned room she saw many Erik milling about, some playing games, others crowd around the TV watching DBZ, others wrestling and so forth. She spotted you on curled on a duvet seemingly asleep. How managed to fall asleep with the noise was beyond her. She could hear them as she turned into the hallway the room was in.

She stood over you. She hated to wake you as you seemed to be asleep but she reached down and shook your shoulder, “My Princess…..”

You sleepily batted it away, mumbling.

Ayo shook you again and called out louder.

You grumbled and hit the hand again. Eventually Ayo had to practically yell and she step back as you woke up sitting straight up.

“What?” you barked unnecessarily but not at anyone in particular.

Your hair was all out of sorts and the stress of the past week was fast wearing on you. Your almost crazed eyes took a look around and finding nothing out of place except the Dora next to you.

“Oh, Ayo…..can I help you?” you asked lowering your voice.

Ayo nodded, “The King requests your presence.”

You nodded and stood up.

“Stay here, N’Jadakas.” You said looking around the room.

“We’re getting bored!” one whined.

“I’ll think of something okay.” You coached.

Passing two Dora you murmured, “Watch em.”

You followed Ayo out of the room and down the hallway, “May I know what this is about?”

“It seem that some of the Princes are in the throne room.” she relayed.

“What how?” You asked stopping in your tracks, “Wait that group didn’t come back from their walk?”

“No, it seems they managed to split up and give us a good chase.”

You groaned and the two of you picked up your pace, finally entering the throne room to see what you believed was absolutely chaos. The lead Erik was currently yelling at T’Challa bout mangos, some of the Erik’s were fighting each other, while others were currently bothering the Elders in various ways.

One was trying to get Ramonda’s attention who was trying to ignore him. “Hey, Auntie!! Ant.Tie! I know you ain’t deaf up there!”

The King looked pinched like the limit of his diplomacy was being tested while Okoye gripped her spear tighter than normal. Nakia just looked overwhelmed for once.

It took you a moment to process all of this before walking further into the throne room.

“N’Jadaka..ss….what are you doing?” you asked lightly.

Amidst the chaos, the lead one turns to you. He points at T’Challa and you purse your lips. He looked just like a child throwing a temper tantrum. “He don’t think I can move mangos!!”

You would have busted out laughing except you had experience a growing headache in the last day.

You only asked lightly, “Mangos?” You held up your hand, “Never mind. Why don’t we leave and let the council do….council things…..?”

You rarely had to sit in a council meeting so you weren’t as privy to the things that are usually discussed.

“They are mangos, baby girl. Mangos.” Erik snapped, “This guy don’t think I can handle it.”

You gave a bright smile, “Why don’t we go eat, huh? I’m sure I can find a hamhock somewhere, some greens. Oooh, would you like me to bake you a cake?”

You swore there was a snort somewhere but you only continued to smile.

“I am not 5 years old!” Erik snapped.

Even Erik winced at his own statement as you just gave him a meaningful look. He snapped, “Don’t think I don’t know what you are doing? You just substituted ice cream for a hamhock!”

“I like both!”

Erik whirled around and socked the nearest one of him. Never mind that that Erik wasn’t the Erik that said it. Fights broke out among the Eriks and the room rose to a deafening noise. The Dora Miljae were tense as they watched.

You however, managed to breath your eyes fluttering. You raised and hand to your temples and started massaging it. T’Challa watched you in concern. He hadn’t seen you in a few days but in the space of those days you looked worse than he ever saw you.

You on the other hand, had your eyes closed and was trying to find your center calm. Bu the hammer in your head wasn’t letting up and the noise was not helping. Suddenly something in you snapped and you lost it completely.

“I need some instant shut up!!” You screamed your eyes snapping open.

Everything in the room froze, including all the Erik in their fighting positions. The King himself froze on his throne, his eyes wide as he gazed at you. Nakia and Ramonda blinked. Even the Elders were staring at you. It was an absolute shock for those in the room to hear you scream. Since knowing you, no one had had heard your voice reach that decibel before. All eyes were on you but you didn’t feel it.

You were glaring at your husbands, your dark eyes were blazing as you snapped, “I want all of you to single file out of here before I really lose my temper! Step too, one two three...”

“Who the heck you think you yelling at?” Erik growled.

“Ahh-ahh…” you snapped glaring down at him, “Until you can get some bass in your voice, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Erik took a step forward but the effect was lost as he had to almost lean back to glare up at you. “Just wait until I get back to my normal size!”

“What? Whatchu gonna do, huh? Nothin. Nut.Thin.” You enunciated, “Matta fact the carnival is closed until further notice. Check it!”

T’Challa blinked. What carnival were you talking about? The two of you didn’t have any plans to go anywhere that he knew of. He risked a glance at Nakia and Queen Mother, both of which looked a bit confused. If Shuri was here, she’d probably know. That might have been another slang that was lost on him. Glancing at the council members their expressions had returned to their normal shield as they watched the drama unfold.

“Baby girl….” Erik growled, “I know you ain’t crazy. This ain’t my fault.”

“I don’t give a dang!” You snapped.

T’Challa eyebrow shot up of its own accord.

Erik shifted, “Y/N…”

“I ain’t finna hear it!. How’z gonna help ya case, eh?” You placed your hands a few inches above your head, “You can’t even ride the rides unless you this tall.”

T’Challa couldn’t help but to look at your hand. That was about the height of his cousin….

Suddenly the light bulb clicked in T’Challa head and he struggled not to cough or make a sound. He glanced at Nakia who seemed to have caught on. However, his mother still looked like she was confused.

“I know you just didn’t put me on lockdown” Erik cried.

“Locked down, locked up, locked sideways….whatevas….” you snorted before snapping “Just get your butt...butts outta here.”

Erik glared up at you and you glared down at him. “You know I ain’t gonna be this size forever.”

You purposely leaned forward, “Your point? I don’t mind going to the carnival next year this time. I’m patient, I can wait...how about you?”

T’Challa saw his cousin twitched before suddenly he leaned over and the crowd of himself in the room all seemed to converse with each other. Finally they stopped and glared at you.

“Aight fine! Be that way!” the lead Erik snapped before spinning on his heel and walking towards the door. The others followed suit all of them glowering and muttering at they walked out.

“I wanna see how long you even last!” Erik hollered.

“Longer than you, that’s for sure!” You yelled back.

Once the last Erik disappeared through the door, silence stretched a long moment.

Finally you turned around your face composed as if what happened didn’t happen at all.

Holding out both hands palms up you spoke your voice level as it always is, “My King, My Queen, Queen Mother, Elders….forgive the intrusion. I will endeavor to make sure this doesn’t happen a second time.”

“What carnival where you talking about going to, my dear?” Ramonda asked.

You purse your lips and blinked rapidly. “Uhhh……”

“Mother….I think that the Princess should be allowed to go and make sure the Prince..ss….don’t get into further trouble.” T’Challa interjected smoothly.

Taking that as your cue you bowed to them once more after Ramonda nodded. As you turned you swore you heard a snicker from Nakia as you walked out the room.

T’Challa caught Ayo’s eye and nodded to the door. Taking the hint, Ayo dipped her head before following you out. When she exited the room, she could see you leaning on the wall with your forehead at the end of the hallway.

“Princess, are you okay?” she asked as she came to your side.

“Yeah, I’m fine…..” You sighed.

Ayo wasn’t sure what to make of your stance. She cocked her head, “Are you certain you don’t require assistance?” she asked.

“Can you commit a murder for me?” you asked.

Ayo raised an eyebrow, “Are you threatened in any way?”

You shook your head.

“Then may I inquire as the nature of this kill?”

“What is the legal term for killing one’s husband?”

“ Mariticide.....”

You blinked and slowly turned your head, so it was still on wall to look at her. “I’m slightly disturbed you know that.” You gaze at her another moment before turning your head so you were looking down at your feet.

The two of you stood for a long moment. Ayo was still confused as to whether you were alright or not.

“Are you looking for something?” she finally questioned.

You turned your head at her. She noticed your crazed wide-eyed look, “I’m trying to find the pieces of my dignity!”

Pushing off the wall you cried, “I'm so bloody embarrassed!! This boy got me all stressed.” You started gesturing wildly and being quite dramatic, “I don’t like to get stressed. You see what happens when I get stressed. I lose my bloody mind!!”

With that said you turned the corner and began walking down the hall without waiting to see if she was following.

A small smile quirked on Ayo’s lips.

Ahh, so that’s what it was.

Everyone knew that you were easily embarrassed and very shy. The fact that you raised your voice would become topic of conversation for while.

The calm, introverted but slight quirky Princess of Wakanda yelling?

Ahh, yes...that would be cannon fodder.

#black panther #black panther fanfiction #killmonger x reader

18 notes · View notes

jerseydeanne · 6 years ago

Link

Gossip site for both celebs/pseudo-celebs arrests, divorces, breakups and hookups, new deals and cancellations, A-D listers and everything in between.

Read the comments, presumed to be you-know-who!

I kicked a hornet's nest last night. I posted the entire thread, I’ll let you guys be the judge. Thank you anon 🌺🌺🌺🌺

FRIDAY, JULY 20, 2018

Blind Item #13

Apparently when our favorite former actress was back in the States a few months ago, she slipped her drug of choice past her protection via a friend. This time around, she is going to have to find a new way to get herself supplied. Oh, I have no doubts she will. It is one of the main reasons she is visiting. She misses that kind of partying and she knows no one will dare arrest her if she is busted. It is partying without having to worry about any legal consequences at all.

POSTED BY ENT LAWYER AT 11:45 AM

1 – 74 of 74

Boldblonde

said...

Guess she didn’t lose him!

9:59 AM

Just Paige

said...

We will know this is true if she ends up dead. If it is there will be proof and the Monarchy won't allow that.

10:00 AM

Do Tell

said...

Is this saying that Meghan yachted WHILE she was dating Harry?

10:03 AM

sandybrook

said...

I'm sure she needed the additional income a yachting excursion provided her. Entern has always said she just an opportunist looking out for herself.

10:03 AM

Sd Auntie

said...

She must be a firecracker in the sack. Harry does not care and probably used escorts his whole frickin life.

10:04 AM

Sunspirit

said...

So was she with Harry when she was yachting?

10:04 AM

Sunspirit

said...

With him as in relationship wise

10:05 AM

Ash X

said...

Is yachting like prostitution? What is yachting?

10:06 AM

Damiana

said...

Sounds like it was before...then XX introduced her to Harry thinking in terms of Harry hiring Me-Again and either she spun it into a "blind date" (as reported for their meeting), or he didn't understand the setup and assumed it was a blind date. Question is, who's the fixer? Guy Pelly or Markus Anderson? And has HRH twigged yet? If not, who's going to tell him?

10:07 AM

Don Kieballs

said...

I can't see Harry marrying a yacht girl. Reformed yachter possibly, but not one who was doing it while they were dating. He may be a ginger, but he's a Power Ginger.

10:08 AM

Appalachian Mothersauce

said...

I think they're truly smitten, and that longevity will only be tested by time.... But Harry is no saint, and if he judges her on her past, he's scumA++.

10:12 AM

Shakira Eakins

said...

I agree. It seems fitting he find a party girl that understands his past and won't treat him like crap for it.

10:15 AM

Don Kieballs

said...

If you go by this blind. Megan was a yacht girl and Harry was one to use the services of yacht girls (why else would the friend make the assumption?) If they both participated in yacht activities, then neither is morally superior. Harry would have no standing to criticize her - not that he has or would.

10:17 AM

Do Tell

said...

It's not 100% up to Harry. If the Palace finds out that she was doing this, he will face a lot of pressure to dump her or renounce it all to marry her.

10:19 AM

Observant One

said...

When I hear the story about how PH and MM met, I immediately thought of Bani and the Celebrity Sex Broker blinds.

10:44 AM

Comment deleted

This comment has been removed by the author.

10:48 AM

Just Paige

said...

@Observant - when I watched the engagement video of them tellling the story I immediately thought of this blind. She is a terrible actress and it was so rehearsed: she touches his arm - reminds him to seem off the cufff...

10:50 AM

Rafael

said...

It´s a LARP. Enty is a cuckservative 4chan larper and is angry because Obama did an interview with Harry and now is visiting William. While the dumb Trump is hated by everyone. lol

10:50 AM

Mango

said...

Not a fan of the royals but I can't believe that the palace hasn't thoroughly investigated Markle, so she must have passed muster. The palace staff are more class conscious and snooty than the royals. I googled, "who introduced Harry and Meghan" and the name "designer Misha Nonoo" kept coming up. I'd never heard of her so I looked up her website and her designs are meager, repetitive and forgettable, however Nonoo is a tall attractive blonde, so I totally believe that she could be a yacht girl who does the part time work to finance her design house.

10:58 AM

John Doe

said...

Who is Harry's friend that she was yachting with? We all know she has a history but I doubt that Harry cares much because his whole life has been about hookers and weed.

10:59 AM

Cheez Whiz

said...

WTF is a LARP? Live Action Role Play? @Rafael, your comment makes absolutely no sense at all. Too much DemocraticUnderground before the morning coffee?

11:01 AM

Beth

said...

Nonoo was married to a friend of the royals. That's how she comes to Harry. The other person who may be the matchmaker is Violet von Westenholz.

11:03 AM

Observant One

said...

@Just Paige - That's exactly what I was watching. I agree with your assessment of her behavior during that video.

11:10 AM

texasrose

said...

I think this blind implies she yachted before Harry and that is when one of Harry's buddies used her. Later when he saw them together he just assumed that Harry was using her services also. Doesn't necessarily mean she was yachting when dating Harry. Ash X - just google yacht girls. The term started when beautiful girls hung out at Cannes Film festival and then just with rich guys on their yachts in the med. It has evolved into just high high priced escorts to rich guys and not necessarily on yachts and generally referring to celeb or semi celeb women doing it. It is apparently a real thing. A lot of blinds here about actresses you would never guess that have been 'yacht' girls or still do $$$$ escorting.

11:17 AM

Crazycatlady

said...

Lol at “power ginger” thank-you @Don... you’re on fire today 🤓

11:30 AM

Nutty_Flavor

said...

Unpopular opinion, but the Queen saw her sister, who was also the "spare", destroyed by being unable to marry the man she wanted. Harry is 6th in line to the throne, or will be by the time he marries, so I don't think the vetting is as extreme for Meghan as it would have been for anyone William dated.

11:30 AM

Daily Union

said...

Factor this into the equation. Meghan Markle is paid to perform. (In all kinds of situations). She has now lucked into the gig of a lifetime, playing the role of Prince Harry's loving wife. The Princess role- with the being American,divorced,multi-cultural thrown in for distraction and media-adoration bonus points. The reason for this performance is simple, Prince Harry is a closeted Gay Man, who wishes to pursue his lifestyle behind closed doors. Ignore the manufactured P.R. around his bachelor lifestyle, and examine his past "romances". Think "straight" about this, no man in his position, or a Joe on the Street would ever consider marring Meghan Markle , with the slightest knowledge of her past. This is just a "Hollywood type" arranged marriage to give the Stars cover.

11:35 AM

Gordon Scott

said...

Agree, Nutty_Flavor; it's a lot lower standard for Harry than Billy, as Harry will never inherit. And the standards for Billy are lower than they were for Chuck. Still, I'm sure that Betty and Phil Battenberg think that Uncle Eddie's spouse was enough yachting for the family. The question is: do they care enough at their ages to push back? Certainly there is no cattier bunch than the palace staff, and if there's a rumour, they either know about it or they started it. Perhaps Meggie has a unique ability to charm them. Stranger things, what? Meanwhile, Sarah and Andy grind their teeth....

11:46 AM

Gordon Scott

said...

@Daily Union: well, that would explain a lot, now, wouldn't it? Uncle Eddie is said to have been fond of playing the whistle, with Wally cheering him on. Perhaps grandma Betty should create him Duke of Windsor.

11:53 AM

Lisa

said...

Clearly Me-again (good one) got herself knocked up. It’s the only way the Windsor’s would agree to this ridiculous marriage. A black prostitute marrying a royal. Only in Hollywood. What a dumb skank.

11:55 AM

VRWC

said...

+1 That made me spit out my drink.

12:10 PM

Andi F

said...

She's the usual actress, a user and social climber, who believes her own hype. I sometimes watched Suits and didn't know her real name until she got with Harry, B grade is being generous.

12:25 PM

drerocks79

said...

SdAuntie A LOT of rich men end up marrying their favorite escort. The upper east side is filled with 'em

12:28 PM

Unknown

said...

👍

12:34 PM

Normal. Yes indeed.

said...

Really rich people own yachts. Yacht girls are hookers that charge prices only rich guys can afford. Hence the term yacht girl. Go spend a weekend in the yacht...

12:39 PM

os75

said...

She must be good

1:16 PM

Glitter

said...

Remember: Long ago, a blind here revealed that Grace Kelly was a yacht girl.

1:26 PM

Nutty_Flavor

said...

Grace Kelly had a healthy sexual appetite. I’m not sure she would have required payment for a weekend on a yacht.

1:36 PM

Lindy

said...

I assume yachting means more than yachting.

1:57 PM

Lindy

said...

But don’t you think - to use the water metaphor - that that ship has sailed. I think it’s too late to back out even if he or his family are having doubts.

2:00 PM

Mango

said...

@ Nutty_Flavor - excellent point about the queen seeing her beloved sister destroyed by not being about to marry her divorced lover. Maybe the Q has accepted that her heirs will marry who they want? Her (alleged) favorite son married and survived Fergie, so maybe Markle will be a walk in the park. (Or a flash in the pan??) @ Observant one - When H and M were doing their interview, the thing that caught my attention/bugged me was their talk about roasting a chicken. "Look! We were cooking our simple dinner! Just like you regular folk!"

2:20 PM

Andi F

said...

Grace was supposedly sexually abused by her dad growing up, and used the casting couch in HW for acting roles and yachting in Europe for the income.

2:22 PM

Randaleese

said...

OH BS!! Trust! The Queen knows everything..,and apparently, it’s either NOT TRUE or Queen realizes times, they are a-changing and DGAFF!

2:27 PM

fairylights

said...

I'm pretty sure that Harry had to ask the Queen's permission before he could get engaged to M.M., I don't think he's far enough down the list to be able to avoid that. I'm also pretty sure that the gossipy Buck palace people made sure her majesty heard about all the info about her, not to mention any information their version of secret service dug up. My guess is that it's a combo of Harry being down the list of succession and the example of all four of her children being divorced were enough for her to decide it wasn't that important....as long as she doesn't continue on like Fergie did. @ Don, 'Power Ginger': Love it!!!

2:44 PM

emeraldcity

said...

Grace wasn't abused, no sexually anyway, her father pretty much ignored her, the boys were everything to him, not to mention that stories abound that he believed she was not actually his daughter. She spent her whole life trying to win his praise and affection which resulted in a father figure complex,and affairs with much older men (Bing, Gary Cooper, Gary Grant) as a dark spin off from this. She was no angel and actually very catty to other women, Ava Gardner called her out in public on her hypocrisy, Liz Taylor and Joan Collins were in the room at the time. As for this blind, I take it with a pinch of salt , MI6 would have everything on this woman and the Queen would be told as she seems quite taken with Meg, it probably came from one of Harry's friends who isn't happy about him marrying Meg so is sticking the knife in. Enty is safe from litigation because the royals never sue about gossip , too many other things might come out in court.

2:46 PM

Do Tell

said...

She is the new Koo Stark. I guess time will tell if things play out the way they did with Andrew and Koo.

2:49 PM

346NYC

said...

I see ZERO chemistry between Harry and MM. Is this like a George Clooney/Amal Beard situation? Also, I've seen some reports that Harry is not Charles son. Some have reported he looks like one of Diana's lovers. Any truth to this? If there is any truth to the former, why should the Queen care who Harry marries if he's not related to the Queen anyway?

2:53 PM

Observant One

said...

@Mango - The roasting a chicken bit made me wonder if it was a code phrase....they said it multiple times. I know I'm cynical as hell, and maybe I have read too many of Enty's blinds over the years, but I thought it was way too contrived. I am trying to figure out why she ALWAYS has her hand on his arm, or his back. So far, my reasoning has led me to think she knows he misses his mother desperately, so she has determined that he needs constant touching and reassurance. I don't like being catty, and I am certainly not racist, but this relationship seems too contrived, like the roast chicken.

3:27 PM

Comment deleted

This comment has been removed by the author.

3:27 PM

Dallas Alice

said...

Or, maybe they were just roasting a damn chicken and he proposed. I certainly have no means of comparison, but I’d imagine cooking your own dinner is quite a lark when you have to make an appointment to see your own Grandmother. She’s definitely grabby, but Americans tend to be more like that. Perhaps they’re actually in love. I’ll choose to think they are.

3:39 PM

Donna Marie

said...

346NYC, apparently Diana did have an affair with a ginger. However, Google Lady Sarah McCorquodale and Baroness Fellowes. Those are Diana's older sisters, they are both gingers, and Harry strongly resembles them. I've also noticed that as Harry gets older, he begins to look more and more like a Windsor male in all but coloring. (though the height comes from his mother's side) All in all, I believe he's a genetic Windsor.

4:14 PM

Hortensia

said...

No one ever says what the past allegations are about Markle. Just this yacht story. Harry has definitely changed his demeanor/appearance since the engagement announcement. A couple of psychics have said it won't last more than five years. Markle was supposedly up for the next Bond movie as a Bond girl. That would have sent her career into the stratosphere. Hmmmm.

4:22 PM

Lisa

said...

She is pregnant.

4:37 PM

BCC

said...

Only Markle says she was supposed to be a Bond girl. Nobody else - certainly not the Bond film people.

4:39 PM

just sayin'

said...

What I find interesting is the theory that Diana's biological father is James Goldsmith. She looked so much more like Jemima Kahn then the Spencer sisters. If true, it would make Harry's children with Meghan 1/4 Jewish and 1/4 Black.

4:41 PM

Gordon Scott

said...

Meggie a Bond girl? Not the lead, certainly. She's not that hot. As for Harry being one of mom's lovers' sons? The timing is wrong for that. Also, there's a pic of grandpa Phil at about Harry's current age, with beard. They look like brothers. He's got the Battenberg Y chromos. The word among those who served with Harry is that he's a good chap. Passing on the family tradition of the holiday hunt because Meggie doesn't like it--plus his body language around her--well, that doesn't bode so well for the future. But his gonads are surplus to requirements now, thus he can just be gossip fodder. It's a shame, as he was thought to be the one to bring back some rascally masculinity in house Battenberg.

4:49 PM

Elamina

said...

It was interesting to me that the last (and only other) blind by Enty that 'revealed' Markle as a yacht girl disappeared from this site overnight. It said like more and more people were coming forward about it and named other women from MMs Deal or No Deal days that did the same to supplement their income. They commanded higher rates because of being on a tv show.

5:06 PM

Scandi Sanskrit

said...

I saw "Diana: In Her Own Words" on NatGeo channel. It was originally first aired during a lunar eclipse (well, that was my memory of it). She said she used to hear voices. Like Prince Charles proposed to her and said something along the lines of, "you realise that means you might become queen someday?" And the voice said, "you won't Ben queen but you'll have an important role." And it came true... 🌙

5:51 PM

Scandi Sanskrit

said...

⚡️GO GO POWER GINGER! ⚡️ (He'd be the Orange Ranger)

6:02 PM

theassangefiles

said...

Longtime reader here, first comment - Had to ask if anyone remembers that Jimmy Saville, underage rapist and sex purveyer extrodanaire was also intimately connected with Prince Charles and considered his "mentor", and was allowed to come and go in Buckingham Palace as he pleased. The Queen knows how to handle little Miss Markle, and it will be to appear to be kind and accepting but make no mistake, Markle will be lucky to last through the next five years, and the tabloid thrashing that is going to hound both her and Harry will "teach" him to fall in line next time around, no doubt about it.

7:54 PM

Scooterchick

said...

My take: Meghan is approved because with all her diversity (American, actress, biracial, divorced) and the distraction it has created, she makes Camilla look less awful, and a bit less controversial. It's pretty clear that the Queen plans on Charles taking the reins, and whatever Camilla will be (Consort? Surely not Queen, one hopes!), she will be in a position that has not occurred in the British Royal family in centuries, as a divorced publicly acknowledged adultress & cuckolder (or is it cuckoldress hahah?). Royal PR are very savvy & trying to spin Chas. & Camilla as less unsavoury than they have been viewed in the past. BTW, has anyone seen Tracy Ullman's take-off on Csmilla? Very spots on Youtubr: it's a scream.

7:58 PM

McJ 2051

said...

So PH has a Pretty Woman fetish I guess?

8:32 PM

boredatwork boredatwork

said...

I agree with the commenters saying that Harry has hit a new low. Everything about those 2 seems too fake and contrived - at least on her side. She's really a mediocre C list actress, with mediocre looks. A trip to Top Shop on Oxford Circus, and one can spot 100 Markles, much better looking than this one. He could do so much better, but prefers to settle for average, in every way.

9:43 PM

Mrs Meat

said...

I know someone who moved in Royal circles who says it's openly acknowledged within the fam that Harry is James Hewitt's son. But personally I can see Prince Charles in his looks.

12:41 AM

Media Viewer

said...

I heard it was the other way round. Awkward when a mutual acquaintance turned out to be a girl from Harry's past. At 1st, Meghan Markle repeatedly turned down Harry's invitations because she had a boyfriend. I remember reading about that back in 2015 when Harry 1st spotted her as an exercise guru on Canadian TV. Finally she agreed to go on a date with him and it was arranged through a friend. Could it be that not every human with a vagina is a whore for fame, money and power? Could it be that those at the British tabloids are just bitter? They hated Frank Sinatra too. That's why they called them rats. Could it be they buried the truth about Harry trolling for chicks on TV programs because it's unseemly?

12:43 AM

Nonya Bidness

said...

A new low? I tend to think his low was the Nazi costume. So you think he only consorted with pedigreed virgins before? Curious what bothers you most about MM, her sexual history or her race.

6:37 AM

Nutty_Flavor

said...

@Media Viewer, not sure where you got the idea that the British tabloids were "bitter" about Markle. Both the Daily Mail and the Sun have been outdoing themselves to sell her to the British public. The last 3 Markle headlines in The Sun: "Get that Markle Sparkle: Meghan Markle's Skincare guru on the perfect prep for your big day." "One is Amused: Meghan Markle's Xmas gift to the Queen caused Her Maj to burst out laughing." "Royal Knees Up: Pubs to open until 1am for 2 nights to celebrate Harry and Meghan's wedding." The tabloids are there to get clicks - and have a healthy side business being paid for placement, which is why you see so many articles about Emily Ratajkowski in them. Whether the positive Meghan articles are paid-for-placement or just a way to stay in good graces with the Firm is unknown. The fact is, though, that the British tabloids are not tearing Meghan down at this point in time.

8:39 AM

Em Lew

said...

It can't be anything worse than what Prince Andrew got up to with his friend Epstein. Then there's Charlie's friendship with serial abuser Savile. The Royals can cover up scandal no problem, as they have the security services doing it for them.

2:06 PM

Count Jerkula

said...

I hope one of Markle's tricks had his cabin wired for video and sound, and the tape finds its way to a foreign file locker or tube site.

3:58 PM

Enny

said...

He looks so much like a young Prince Philip it’s ridiculous. How can people ignore such a strong resemblance to his father and paternal grandfather? It makes no sense. Yes, Diana had affairs. No, she did not father Harry with one of them.

6:03 PM

boredatwork boredatwork

said...

None - you must be one of those ppl who judges ppl by the colour of their skin, and not the content of their character. To you, MM, who is average in every way, is special, because of her race, while I don't give a shit about her race, and I dislike her purely for what sort of person she appears to be. Reverse racism it's called.

12:48 AM

Gail Banks

said...

Fairylights - only three of Queen Elizabeth's children are divorced, not four. Prince Edward is still married to Sophie Rhys-Jones.

4:56 AM

La-Juice

said...

as much as I dislike him, remember, Charles too knows what its like to be forbidden to marry who he loved- and look at the lengths he ultimately went ot and the disaster that ensued. Maybe Harry really loves her- given his past, I have to believe he knows all about her. I bet the castle/crown staff just keeps all of Meghan's indiscretions/past secreted from the very old Queen, whose husband is failing... can't be too hard.

12:52 PM

Sharon Betz

said...

Does anyone have info on Joe Guiliano Meghan Markle first husband? Joseph J. Goldman-Guiliano, Northwestern grad, criminal defense attorney in MA?

8:01 AM

#Meghan Markle #CDAN #new Blind #submission

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immortallaughter · 6 years ago

Text

@rooibosfie

(Uri x Eamon) Mango

So...my hand slipped. A lot. (I have no self control!) Uri and Zethys belong to the talented @rooibosfie go check them out!

A smile.

They smiled at each other! That was progress, but didn’t do anything but make her friend act on his pining heart. Beatrice rolled her eyes in annoyance, as she noticed yet another flustered encounter with the fiery red haired man in the market.

Eamon, for a few weeks had noticed someone every afternoon, who made him get butterflies in his stomach. While Beatrice would simply tell her scholarly friend to digest the damned bugs and go talk to the person like an adult, she knew he was a much more gentle soul and would most likely feel bad for hurting the metaphorical insects.

Nudging him in the shoulder, the mage motioned her head in the direction of the good looking crush.

“Go talk to them!” She grumbled. Eamon shook his head so hard, Beatrice was surprised he didn’t have whiplash. “N-no. I can’t!”

Frowning, she lifted her scarred eyebrow defiantly. Weeks of this charade, had tested her nonexistent patience for social protocol and today she felt like putting an end to it. “Why, pray tell, can you not talk to a stranger?”

Eamon gaped his mouth open like a fish out of water for a few moments, before muttering incoherently into the page’s of his book. The scholar only became flustered around anyone he found extremely attractive, but he never knew what to say.

Almost as though she was the one with mind powers, Beatrice piped up again. “You could say anything at all, right now your nerves are talking for ya! Show em who’s boss by talking to that hunk, yeah?” Although Beatrice prodded in encouragement, Eamon tapped his fingers in his book nervously.

“But what do I do, in theory, if I do talk to that man? What if he actually wants to talk?” Beatrice grinned with a waggle of her brows. “Then you flirt a little, get to know em!” The scholar looked at her as though she’d lost her wits. “This is me we are discussing here. I could tell you every fact about the human skull, in depth, but not even something basic on flirting!” Eamon whined, running a freckled hand through his ash brown curls.

“Oh come on! Flirting is basically arithmetic, pff. Why are you making me give you advice?! I was a memoryless mercenary my whole life, and I’ve got more confidence around potential mates than you. Just go try talking to them!”

Now she’d done it.

Eamon’s cheeks turned a shade of scarlet at the word “mates”, that probably matched his crush’s hair.

“C-can’t!” He whimpered, hiding his face in his book again. Beatrice turned to watch the red-haired stranger disappearing in the midday crowds.

“Suit yourself then. You might miss your chance to speak to em, ya know?” She simply wanted to see her friend happy with someone else besides a good book for once.

“What? Why would you say that?” Eamon pouted, his hazel eyes zooming to meet the disapproving copper pools drilling into him.

“He’s not from around here, judging by his Aurean looking uniform. Probably a traveler on business. Today could be the last time you see him in the crowd, why not say a simple hello?” She slumped her shoulders in annoyance, as he huffed out a deep breath stubbornly.

“Thank you for the pep talk, Trice. I know you mean well...but if he’s a traveler I don’t want to bother them with-with minute infatuations.”

Her eye twitched, patience completely gone. At the sound of her exiting the tent they’d stopped under for shade, Eamon’s eyes widened. “Oh no, no, no, no! TRICE, you get back here right now! Trice? Trice!”

His pleas fell on deaf ears, as he dashed after Beatrice. Chasing an ex mercenary wasn’t an easy thing to do, even for a strategic mind like Eamon’s. Spotting her, not too hard. Keeping up with her stamina, however, was another story. Beatrice was excellent at climbing. So his eyes turned upwards and like he suspected there she was. Eamon spotted her half copper hair billowing behind her, as she ran on a rooftop ahead, jumping almost effortlessly from one structure to the next. There was no doubt she was searching for the man they’d been discussing.

“Oh, this can’t end well!”

Eamon grumbled, pushing through the crowd as politely as he could. When he caught up to where he’d seen her jump down from a street pole, he was winded. Eamon felt as though he might faint , however, when he saw Beatrice striking up a conversation with the two travelers. The shorter of the two had white hair with matching eyes, appearing either slightly guarded with their new company, or annoyed at the brightness of the sun in his eyes. He tugged at the lapels on his navy blue suit jacket, as the mage introduced herself.

Then there was his crush. Standing tall, this man had a commanding authority to them. Gold jewelry embellished the handsome features of his tan face. The fire curls at the top of his head demanded attention, much like the golden orbs peering down at all the world below them, although Beatrice stood almost equal in height to him surprisingly. She was able to look both men straight in the eyes, which Eamon would have to be standing on a small stool to do. This fellow, was by no means short up close. “Perks of being a tall woman, Trice!” The scholar thought absentmindedly with a tinge of jealously.

Gulping nervously, Eamon stepped towards them. The mage turned slightly, greeting him with a friendly grin. The coy wink she gave him, so their new company couldn’t see, wasn’t helping this Vesuvian’s internal screaming at all.

“Oh! This is my associate, Eamon! Eamon, this is Uri and Zethys.” She gestured to an individual as she was addressing them, before stepping back to let the scholar flounder.

“Uri. What a perfect name for a person so intriguing,”

Eamon thought to himself, until he realized he was starring like a deer in headlights at the two before himself. It took every ounce of control Eamon had not to bound away like a scared rabbit, but he planted his feet firmly on the stone path beneath his leather boots. This was it. He needed to say something. Sticking out his hand with a straightened posture, he astutely inclined his head.

“Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

Uri shuffled on his feet momentarily, with a grin that matched Eamon’s own. Wait-was his crush blushing too? No, no that would be silly, Eamon theorized. Perhaps the two had been out in the sun too long, yeah that was plausible. Maybe it was just the reflection of Uri’s lively hair reflecting off his skin. Whatever it was, it was mesmerizing. The scholar blinked a couple of times before smiling wide. A smile that could make even angels fawn over him. Uri looked almost startled, but reached out and grabbed Eamon’s hand regardless.

“Pleasure is mine.”

The Aurean beamed, as his golden eyes almost disappeared in an equally tempting smile, making Eamon melt where he stood. That time, he knew it wasn’t the sun. Zethys nodded towards the scholar, but continued to say nothing, while his cloudy eyes squinted at the other member of their unexpected company.

Then came an uncomfortable pause. Silent, except for the bustling crowd around them. The smells of spices and freshly baked bread made for a good distraction, but it wasn’t enough to hide the lack of conversation happening. Beatrice let her face drop when Uri coughed, in an attempt to get the conversation going, after they had let go of each other’s hands. Eamon looked at Beatrice with a shy shrug of his shoulder, a furious blush crossing his freckled cheeks. Turns out, her friend wasn’t lying when he mentioned not being able to flirt. So, being blatant, the mage worked her magic into the “tender” moment.

“Eamon thinks you’re cute.”

Both Uri and Eamon looked as though she’d just struck them in the back of the head with a brick, as they sputtered unintelligibly at the same time. The mage watched Uri turn his head away to collect himself, an obvious tinge of color on his cheeks. She caught the ends of a muttered comment of his. Something along the lines of “I’m flattered!” perhaps.

Her eyes then raced to Eamon, who almost fell over after holding his breath too long in an attempt to not scream. The scholar’s comment was much more coherent, since he spoke right into her ear. “Trice, you are so dead!” Eamon threatened quietly, his voice wavering slightly.

Zethys slid his eyes up to Beatrice’s, lifting a brow in apparent confusion, as she bust into a spurt of obnoxious laughter. Threats never worked on the mage. Never.

“You two, are too precious!”

“Please stop talking!” Eamon groaned, as she smacked her hand on his back playfully. This embarrassment had him wanting to die, but also interested to see what Uri thought of this news.

The redhead let out a short laugh, giving a perfect grin as he looked at his not so secret admirer. “Care to join me for a bite to eat, Eamon? Rumor has it, that there is a stall around here that sells the best mangoes.”

Eamon’s eyes lit up at the sound of Uri’s invitation and the mention of his favorite fruit. “Mangoes? I know just where that stall is! I-I would be delighted to accompany you! Do you like mangoes, Uri?”

Uri matched his pace with the shorter man as Eamon started walking with a skip in his step, before responding resolutely. “Oh, I love mangoes!”

Eamon swooned, and Beatrice bit her lip fighting back a grin. “Oh, what have I done?” She thought to herself smugly.

Beatrice and Zethys stood as the two left together, the white haired man again turning his head to his new company. “What....exactly just happened?” The mage turned her head to the man and shrugged coolly. Apparently everyone was mistaking her for an all knowing gypsy today.

“I have absolutely no idea, but I like it.”

#rooibosfie #I could not help myself #mango is the shipname #mango buddies #oc uri #oc zethys #oc beatrice #oc eamon #uri has no idea how much eamon loves him or mangoes and he just stole my poor bois heart #AAAAAHHHHHHH I had fun writing this #i have no self control #I hope you liked it

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